《Built Different [Cyborg Superhero ProgFant]》


 1 - Working Hard

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    I had always been a ¡®shoot first, ask questions later¡¯ kind of guy.


    Of course, having a cybernetic re-breather that replaced most of my throat left me with no vocal chords. With my right arm being a synapse-controlled pump-action shotgun, it helped hammer home the ease at which I stuck to the aforementioned mantra. In my line of work, anything wasteful like ¡®conversation¡¯ just impeded the violence necessary to get the job done.


    Contract killer.


    Some might view me as a vigilante or anti-hero, but I didn¡¯t care to paint myself with any labels. My existence was solely to fulfill the terms given to me by the Boss. No questions or qualms about it. Over the years, it had become apparent that to have such a contract over your head that required a visit by yours truly; you were probably a little below the gray line when it came to moral standing.


    It wasn¡¯t my place to be judge or jury¡­ only executioner. Boss had never handed me a job with innocents on the line. If that ever changed, then I¡¯d need to muddy my employment contract and make sure he hadn¡¯t been compromised. Rude to drop in on him unannounced when he liked his privacy, but he didn¡¯t pay me to have manners.


    And speaking of pay, I¡¯d earned a sizable amount of credits tonight.


    Now heading home in the early morning, the vibrations of my motorized death trap were causing havoc with the knife wounds in my chest. Another hour and the stims should have them healed up. Or at least scabbed over. I¡¯d need to spend some of the morning stitching up the holes in the layers of dull green cloth my upper body was swathed in. As thick as they were layered, sometimes a knife just knew the way to a man¡¯s heart. Or at least into some of the surrounding muscles.


    The lenses of the goggles that I always wore filtered the darkened scenery with a pale green light. They weren¡¯t a medical necessity, but I had grown tired of the color of blood and the vibrancy of daylight. Still, it was nice to be on the road this early in the morning, as there was no other traffic about. This was important, as I wasn¡¯t legally allowed to drive.


    Only partially because one of my arms was an unregistered lethal weapon, in every literal sense.


    The city not only expected me to pass ¡®tests¡¯ but also my vehicle must be ¡®roadworthy¡¯ and not a ¡®danger to the public¡¯. Requiring me to disclose my profession was another sticking point, as then my gas-guzzling contraption would be the least of their worries.


    I kept out of the way of law enforcement, the League of Heroes, and whatever other do-good organizations populated the city. In return, they kept out of my iron sights. To assist this peace, my humble abode was even on the outskirts of the city limits, in a place too derelict to hoist up some proper architecture.


    Much like my vehicle, my house was ramshackle, covered with grime and sharp edges. A solitary mattress on the floor, because sometimes cliches had an unhealthy glob of truth to them. Speaking of unhealthy globs, I needed to replenish my hydration cannister after my clothing was repaired.


    The new nutritional paste that was meant to dissolve in it hadn¡¯t been too successful at just that. Boss had a team of bio-engineers or perhaps just sticky fingers and the know-how of where to look for this sort of thing. Sure, I couldn¡¯t eat, drink, or speak - but Boss had saved me from death and got me the tech to keep on going. Working for him was just paying off the blood debt, even if he had never put it that way.


    A dirty job, but one I did with ruthless efficiency. I couldn¡¯t be bargained with, or distracted by monologues. Resistant to most airborne maladies and a high pain tolerance. Reasonably numb to violence, I tried to keep things as black and white as possible. Simple plans were the ones least likely to blow up in your face.


    Locate target, turn up when they weren¡¯t expecting me, fill them full of slugs, and leave.


    Today¡¯s job was some rich snobs running a death pool. Two of the participants figured out a third had poisoned off a couple of others involved in the scheme. Gave Boss enough coin to make me worth hiring. Head of Security was in on it and received the same punishment. Rest of the goons were hapless pawns, and I incapacitated or left them with recoverable injuries. Aforementioned snob tried to buy me off with triple what they had paid Boss.


    To repeat; I could not be bargained with.


    The Head of Security was a tougher bastard than he looked. Possibly ex-special forces. Tore my chest up something fierce with a concealed blade after I disabled his firearm. As I had some ammunition left over from my mission budget, I gifted it to him in return for the noble attempt. Trying to allot two shells per combatant was unnecessary, but I hated wastage.


    As my vehicle trundled along, the cityscape fell away behind me. Long past the warehouses and construction yards, onto the empty plains before the Wasteland itself. I approached the lot where my excuse for a home stood proud despite its misgivings. With a whine and splutter, the engine of my vehicle gave out just as I rolled down the driveway. I¡¯d need to sleep at some point, but with no contract on the near horizon, I¡¯d leave car repairs to later.


    I stepped out, my thick black boots digging into the loose gravel with a crunch. With the door flung shut, I stretched out, shuddering slightly as the pain of my partially healed wounds flared up. Tilting my head, I clocked the tape surrounding the empty plot beside mine. Some kind of warning not to enter. Perhaps they had found some irradiated waste or decided it would be the next area for the city¡¯s garbage dump to spill over into.


    Nothing important that I cared for, as long as they didn¡¯t bother me directly. At least, I''d bring up some concern once I was recovered.


    With a grunt, I took myself to the front door of the house. Not locked, but my left hand went up to the hidden compartment to flip a switch. A click and a hum, and the traps were now inert. Something else the city would turn their nose up at, but people who wandered out this far were already up to no good. The door swung open with a groan. It vibrated and threatened to jettison itself off of the aged hinges. It wouldn¡¯t dare.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    A light flickered on, illuminating the drab internals with a pale glow. Aforementioned mattress. Two workbenches with one chair. A few crates stacked against one wall, full of parts and ammunition. I stepped over to the nearest flat surface and ejected the drum mag out of my arm. From within the various tubes and filters of my re-breather, something akin to a sigh of relief escaped.


    I lived in my battle gear. All the blood, sweat, and other people¡¯s tears became part of my armor. An aura of decay and inevitability. Looming death. Removing the drum from my gun-arm was the closest thing I had to disrobing after a long day, and was remarkably freeing. I had smaller magazines, of course. Some were for specific ammunition types. Slug, buckshot, elemental casings, and even some more exotic things that I rarely got to use.


    A few steps over to the workbench and I pulled forward the case that held the sewing materials. Boss had given me a little machine that I could use one-handed to punch holes together. Even worked on flesh, although he didn¡¯t appear to approve of that usage. It was rough, and I was a shoddy craftsman, but it did the job.


    It was odd to question if Boss cared for me, faced with his protestations. I was an asset that required maintenance, and that¡¯s about as far as he saw it. Despite years working for him, we had little rapport. Hadn¡¯t even met face-to-face, but that was part of the work. Anonymity. He ensured I had the tools to do my job and any amenities that could make my life more bearable. My house, my vehicle, and my appearance were all my own choice. I could have better.


    I just didn¡¯t deserve anything more than this. Nothing but a killer.


    In silence, I sat and cleared my mind of such thoughts. The whirring of the sewing device followed by the clunk of it stapling my clothing were the only things filling my single room abode. Five stab wounds - quite impressive given the short time we had clashed. My many layers were slightly more patchwork, but at least I wasn¡¯t falling apart now. One of the crates had spare fabric, but I didn¡¯t have the heart to replace it all wholesale.


    I placed the small machine away, closed the case, and buckled the clasps. Slid it back to its rightful place on my workbench. Despite the decay and detritus that smothered most of my existence, the bench was near flawless. Organized and clear. If I couldn¡¯t function, then I couldn¡¯t work¡­ I¡¯d be failing Boss.


    Left hand drew another case toward me and I popped the lid open. Fresh hydration cylinders, with added nutrients and healing nanites. Possibly some of that was bullshit, but it kept me alive, and I knew not to bite the hand that fed. I pulled down the scarf obscuring most of my neck to reveal the current one. Flip of a small clasp and with a hiss the current cannister popped out of its mooring.


    About an inch thick and four long. A test tube, almost. Most of the liquid had been drained from it, but there was a thick sludge near the exit port where the supposed nutrients hadn¡¯t dissolved properly and turned into sediment. I placed it gently on the bench and withdrew a fresh one from the case. Out of the soft foam that kept them safe, I held it up to the light. One of the older gens.


    Not as potent, but better than slop I couldn¡¯t absorb. Tilting my head to the side, I placed it in the metallic gap in the side of my neck. Pushed it with a little force until the seal popped and it clicked into place. Clasp down and scarf back up. I shuddered with a slight chill as the fresh hydration ran down into my system. A momentary bliss. Case closed and back in its place.


    I still need to do some gun-arm maintenance, and berate my car into living a little longer. Switching cans always made me that little more lethargic, and I had been up all night tenderizing the rich, ready to be consumed. Still, the thought of sleep seemed unpalatable. A waste of waking hours.


    As if my wandering thoughts had been read, my left wrist vibrated. I held it up and pulled back my sleeve to reveal the implanted device. A button in the shape of a star glowed bright white. Boss had sent me a message. I pressed it and watched the text fill up the deep blue screen.


    Agent W, it said. Congratulations on your last mission. Funds will be distributed shortly, kindly provide debriefing report when able. Stand by for new mission brief. Boss.


    My real name had been long forgotten, alongside whatever life I had lived before Boss had put me back together again. I assumed every contracted body under the Boss had a single letter assigned to them, but I had never met or heard of any others. Maybe I was the only one, as unlikely as that felt.


    I¡¯d hit up the debriefing after my eventual sleep. It was done through this STAR device in my wrist, which was awkward given that I couldn¡¯t reach it with my one actual hand. Despite their best attempts to make my life easier, these little things could be forgotten. Thankfully, they kept it brief. How many corpses. Did I fuck anything up. What do I need in my next delivery package.


    I was more interested in the new contract. Usually he¡¯d allow me a short downtime. A day or two to manage my personal demons or patch myself back together. This must be time sensitive. Through my re-breather, I exhaled and waited for his message to vanish so that I could jab the STAR with the barrel end of my arm again to load up the mission.


    My eyes narrowed behind my goggles. This was taking longer than usual. Maybe there wouldn¡¯t be time for sleep and maintenance if it was important.


    While I waited, a noise caught my unaugmented ears. A low drone that I dismissed at first, but then began to rise in volume. Odd to hear anything of note out this way. My brow furrowed against my goggles. Closer now, and louder still.


    Helicopters. More than one, by the thrumming vibration that now reverberated around my house. Police after someone? Media event? The military finally here to take me out?


    I stepped up from my creaking chair and palmed up my drum mag from the top of the crate. Into the magwell, and the first round pumped in using my mind to work the mechanism. I hadn¡¯t even had time to reload it back to full.


    Exhaling through the filters, I paused briefly at the door. Definitely close - either above or beside my house now. They weren¡¯t circling, so maybe dropping out little soldiers on ropes. I never imagined this was how I¡¯d be going out. My house was barely airtight, let alone fortified enough for a siege.


    Muscles tense, I swung the door open and took a few steps out into the dusty ground currently being buffeted by the set of four propellers. Not military, police, or media. The large vehicles hovered over the vacant space that was cordoned off, slowly lowering their payload.


    A house. White wood freshly painted, potted plants already affixed beneath an awning. Two floors with a red tile roof up the top. Picture perfect, in a way, and wholly unappealing to my eyes. The biggest question on my mind was - why?


    As the building gently made landfall and the large straps became slack before unclipping themselves, I lowered my weapon. Probably not something I needed to shoot just yet, as tempting as it was. Another noise then pierced the air, rising above that of the drone of the flying vehicles, and I looked up to see a dark shape cratering like a bomb from the morning sky.


    Before I had the chance to act, it slammed down into the freshly deployed lawn of the new house, sending a shockwave of power through the area and shaking my comparatively more modest living space. As the cloud of dust blew away from the retreating helicopters, the shape of the projectile unfurled, and I realized that it was actually a person.


    Standing at least six feet tall, with short red hair and a bright blazing smile, was perhaps the most muscled woman I had ever seen. Dressed in an armless bodysuit of reflective silver and deep red, she put her hands on her hips, gazing at the unexpected delivery - seemingly satisfied with proceedings.


    Turning her head, she caught sight of me and raised up a thick arm to wave her hand.


    ¡°Howdy, neighbor!¡±

 2 - Maintenance Required

    Boss had warned me not to get involved with superheroes. Not just because we carried out extrajudicial murder contracts, but they were often just bad news. Always in the limelight. Somewhere between narcissism and overwhelming insecurity. Occasionally too violent to control. Up until this point in my life, I had not had to interact with one aside from rolling my eyes at the occasional billboard. At least, not in the five years since my cybernetic resurrection.


    Now there was one striding across my property line towards me. Given that she had just dropped from the sky without shattering her legs into a pulp, I didn¡¯t rate the chances of my shotgun doing much to dissuade her from getting any closer.


    ¡°I actually didn¡¯t think I¡¯d have a neighbor out this way.¡± Despite her constant smile, her eyes went past me to my shack, her confidence slightly wavering at the sight of my abode. ¡°They said it was an abandoned area.¡±


    I stared at her blankly, willing her to disappear. It wasn¡¯t working.


    ¡°Say¡­ you¡¯re not a villain, are you?¡± Her eyes ran me up and down. ¡°Dick move for me to ask that off the bat, I know. I shouldn¡¯t judge based on appearances, huh?¡±


    My head shook slowly.


    ¡°Not sure I wholly believe you. Fuckin¡¯ sweet tech, though.¡± Her brow furrowed, and she ducked into a squat to give my arm a once-over. ¡°That¡¯s not a mundane gun either¡­ V-Force, right? Bet you can shoot all sorts of mad shit out of that. Must be C-Class?¡±


    I¡¯d give her that - she had an astute eye. While my drum was loaded with gunpowder based cartridges, the weapon itself was powered by something called V-Force. Which was some kind of tech magic that I didn¡¯t care to learn about as long as it continued to work in my favor. Allowed a multitude of different payloads, as long as they were the right spec.


    She stood back up and sighed. ¡°Normally guys would gush over their little toys, but you¡¯re the strong silent type, it seems.¡±


    There was no need to give her a similar dress down with my eyes. She looked as though she could crack my head like a walnut with any one of her limbs, so I wondered what she thought ¡®strong¡¯ truly was. I certainly cut a large silhouette, a good half-foot taller than her and broader with my many layers of wrapped clothing.


    Quite likely she was a strength-type super, given her apparel and overt physique. With the red hair and skintight suit, her brash and forward personality lent to the cliche as much as it wore on my patience. She was clearly the powerful and noisy type.


    I pointed my left hand up to my scarf-covered neck and shook my head.


    ¡°Ah, shit. You¡¯re mute?¡± Her waning smile turned into a grimace. ¡°Usually when I meet people, I warn them I¡¯m a bit of an asshole. I guess now you know firsthand - before I even had the chance to tell you.¡± She smiled again, but some of the glamor was missing.


    I remained statuesque and stared blankly at her.


    ¡°Oh. Rockslide, although you can call me Roxy. If¡­ you could.¡±


    It was interesting watching the soul leave her body as she continued to dig a bigger hole unassisted. She waited in awkward silence as if I were about to give her a name.


    ¡°No vocalizer chip, despite your tech level? Do you sign? Or have pen and paper handy? It¡¯s difficult to read you beneath the goggles and gasmask.¡±


    I shook my head again. While it brought me no pleasure to see her squirm, I felt that if I didn¡¯t give her anything, then she might talk me to death. An unfitting end, especially when Boss had a new contract for me to complete. Against better judgement, my left hand came up, and I drew a W in the air.


    ¡°Starts with W? What¡¯s after that?¡± She tilted her head.


    In addition to the bright red bodysuit matching her hair, I noted her eyes were an odd amber color. At least, as far as I could imagine behind the green tint of my own eyewear. Perhaps she had fire abilities too? To her question, I gave another shrug.


    ¡°Just W, huh? Well, Dubs, I have no more room in my mouth for my own feet, so I¡¯ll head on over to the house.¡± She turned and took a step before looking back. ¡°Now that we¡¯re friends, I hope you don¡¯t mind some tough love? Only, you kinda reek a bit, my guy.¡±


    She didn¡¯t care to hang about and see which of the three body motions I had so far offered her would be the one I responded with. I watched her leave towards her idyllic house and wondered two things. The first was why supers wore skin tight clothing all the time. It seemed inefficient and geared towards titillating rather than being combat-functional. Probably a public relations thing - I was thankful I didn¡¯t need to impress anyone. Just doing an efficient job for Boss to work off my debt was enough.


    The second thought on my mind was wondering what I could possibly do to get rid of her. This close to the Wastelands wasn¡¯t exactly a prime vacation location, much less a pleasant place to live. There was a good reason I was out here roughing it. Solitude.


    Not five minutes had passed, and I¡¯d already had the longest conversation for years. It had been exhausting. Perhaps that sleep could be had now. I turned and trudged my way back into my own place of safety. Door closed, and I felt a lot better about things with me being hidden away. The empty canister still lay on the workbench, so after ejecting my drum once more, I went over and removed that. Into the disposal pile in the corner of the room.


    I considered whether giving her my name was a mistake. Wasn¡¯t much you could do with a single letter, and perhaps now she¡¯d avoid me out of awkwardness. Part of me hated that she had been right - I probably could gush about my gun, if given the right audience and the capacity to do more than grunt. It was one of the reasons I was so good at my job, after all. Couldn¡¯t put a price on that sort of satisfaction. My eyes went over to the piles of wooden boxes against the wall.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    One of the crates at the bottom was stacked with speciality mags. All sorts of oddities that Boss allowed me - either for testing, for a specific mission, or my own amusement. One of my favorites was the Sanguine ammo. Small rods of reinforced steel with pointed ends like stakes. Just a solid chunk of sharp metal the V-Force could put through walls. Only had four of those left. Two fewer neo-vampires in the city, though.


    I sat on the chair and basked in the clarity of my empty workbench. Brow furrowed against my goggles, I brought up my the screen on my wrist. New contract dossier was being downloaded. An off-grid system that was slower than turtle balls, but was as secure as it got.


    Now that I knew it was on the way, I couldn¡¯t sleep. I had gotten four hours the night before, so I should be able to go a while longer. I¡¯d have to let Boss know about my neighbor and I might get relocated. Having the overly forthright woman breathing down my neck would make my work difficult. Only took a few probing questions or seeing me turning up covered in blood before things got complicated.


    Any further reasons to doubt me not being a villain and she might just crack me in half just in case. There was no telling how much control her emotions had over her power. A super with lightning powers had lost it in a coffee shop a few months back. Something wrong with his order. Two dozen casualties. The League seemed to have enough rugs to sweep things under, however, as I didn''t see the story grace the local news.


    No points for guessing if both organizations were in bed together.


    I stretched out the fingers on my hand and deflated. The city had fucked me over by selling that plot of land, but even if it went cheap, I wasn¡¯t sure why a superhero of all people would relocate to the outskirts. If there was one thing a super liked, it was fame and adoration. Plenty of kiss-asses in the city willing to inflate their egos and tell them their shit didn¡¯t stink. Any further than my backyard, and it was just sun-bleached rock and the occasional band of mutants.


    The spaces between cities were a deserted no-man''s-land. Other than the guarded highways or transport routes, it was a lawless place, mostly untouched by the various governments or organizations that ran the bubbles of civilization. I''d heard the wastelands used to be full of towns and smaller communities, but that seemed like a far cry from reality. Goldarch was one of the more metropolitan cities, and I''d been posted here since I left wherever Boss had put me back together. There was a Mayor, and a Council, but it didn''t take a sceptical mind to see that they were just in the pocket of the League of Heroes.


    My STAR beeped and took my thoughts away from the problem next door. Fully downloaded and ready for my perusal. I blinked my tired eyes a few times before allowing the mission details to filter onto the screen.


    Some kind of middling mob boss. Took out a huge loan, then when time came to pay, he gathered up all his goons and killed off those he had borrowed from. Now the guy higher up in the chain wants an eye for an eye, and the only payment required is blood. Boss had marked it with the word ¡®EAT¡¯ which meant Erase All Targets. No need to incapacitate henchmen or avoid innocents. All were guilty.


    According to the ones paying Boss, anyway.


    A dozen or so targets, including the prime catch himself. Small firearms expected. Based in the backrooms of some casino, of all places. Close range, so I''d expect melee as well. Enough ambient noise to drown out the roll of my dice, but they also have a couple squads that roved around the front of house and main street, so I¡¯d need to keep things short and sweet.


    I looked over at the drum mag. Thirty shells was usually enough, but this had the capacity to turn into a bloodbath. Enough to budget for two shots per target with a couple spare, assuming I didn¡¯t get any of the additional groups. No, that wouldn¡¯t do. With the hiss of a sigh, I stood and went over to find one of my ten-cartridge magazines. I''d lead with that and switch to the drum once I had breached the building proper.


    Best that I get some sleep. Would be a crime to go fight the mob at a casino during daytime.


    With little ceremony, I took my allegedly malodorous body over to the mattress and laid down. Pressed the STAR to let Boss know the contract was received and accepted. Hopefully, by dusk, the hero would be busy and I¡¯d not be bothered further. Still some repairs to do on the car before I set off. Gun maintenance would wait till after the contract - it would forgive me.


    Darkness took hold of my whirring brain as the lights in my home flickered off. A dreamless sleep filtered through my muddied memory, that I soon awoke from.


    A longer sleep than usual, but I clearly needed it. Perhaps it had been all that socializing that wore me out. Waning sunlight from the barely transparent coverings over the windows signaled that I had time to replace my hydration cannister and scowl at the vehicle before setting off. I roused from the mattress and did just that. Spent can in the pile, fresh one giving me a chill as it was inserted. Magazine on my belt filled with incendiary shot. Drum hanging from a quick-release clip beside it.


    I rolled out my shoulders and tapped at my stim dispenser on the right side of my neck. Good to go. The tubes of my re-breather hissed as I exhaled. Went and left from the front door, shutting it and enabling the traps with the click of the switch. A humming started within. Not much to protect, but if I came back and my cannisters and ammo had been sacked, both the Boss and I would be fuming.


    Boots crunching over the light dust and gravel, I approached my transportation and popped the hood. Everything in there looked pretty fucked, and I wasn¡¯t much of a mechanic. I settled for prodding about aimlessly, making sure that everything was at least secure and in place. Perhaps I should ask Boss for something that needed less work, or I could just learn to¡­


    I tilted my head to see a figure approaching from the side. The hero, looking a little sheepish. Apart from now wearing an oversized black hoody, she appeared no different. As if a camera crew could be waiting around the corner and she¡¯d need to spout off some cheesy lines while giving the biggest faux smile possible. Picture perfect. To whatever standard the League of Heroes required of her, anyway.


    ¡°Heyyyy, Dubs. Ah, I just wanted to apologize for earlier, mostly.¡± She waited a few seconds to see if I¡¯d do anything other than stare at her, before giving up that fading hope. ¡°I¡¯m a bit full-on and that¡¯s clearly a clash with your personality.¡±


    I didn¡¯t budge.


    ¡°Sooo. I hope we can at least be cordial if not friends.¡± She grinned and looked between me and the open guts of my car. ¡°I honestly thought this was just an abandoned wreck in your front yard, but it¡¯s good to see you¡¯re great with your hands.¡±


    My eyes went down to the large shotgun that was currently prodding at the large metal part of the car''s internal organs that got too warm when I drove it. One of at least three such parts, anyway.


    Roxy blinked slowly. ¡°Hand... Fuck! Anyway, just remember the first part where I didn¡¯t sound like too much of a cock. I¡¯m working tonight, but I¡¯ll try not to shake the ground too much when I get back.¡± She clicked her fingers and winked, before spinning 180 degrees and stomping off.


    She was a bizarre individual. I¡¯d never known someone so aggressively awkward. That said, aside from Boss, the only people I knew were shortly dead after I met them. Maybe the League stuck her out here to pasture where she could gnaw on her own feet in peace. If she put half as much gusto in fighting criminals as she did trying to get on my good side, then¡­ well, the city wouldn¡¯t need people like me. More ear plugs, maybe.


    Hoping that my car was now magically repaired through the power of not wanting to be near the super any more than I did, I closed the hood and looked up at the sky. An hour or so until dusk would start to shade the city and all the fanciful lights of the gambling district would come into bloom. It was about an hour¡¯s drive as well. Planned. I tried to be punctual on all occasions.


    I decided I would at least escape to the edge of the outskirts - so that I was far enough away from home to not be bothered - and then wait out nightfall in relative peace.


    Something I¡¯d soon shatter.

 3 - Chips Down

    It would be a little cliche to say I had an affinity for the night. Only natural for someone in my line of work to want to blend in - and what better time when the world itself was awash in darkness? One uneventful drive over and I was near the location. Now crouched two dozen feet deep in an unlit alleyway, the shadows just made the sight before me stick out like a sore thumb by comparison.


    The casino itself. A bright spark of garish lights and tipsy gamblers pissing away their credits on games of chance or deception. Thankfully, I wasn¡¯t near the front of the business and could avoid winning myself a migraine. Earbuds were already in so my shotgun didn¡¯t give me tinnitus. An obscured door near the back of the complex looked barred up and disused, but the shady-looking pair who I had recently observed open it to exchange a bag of something told me differently.


    That just left the red hot poker of a question - when do I make my move? Over the years, it had become something of an innate skill. A feeling that it was time for the show to begin, a melody you just aligned yourself with so the song didn¡¯t sound like hot garbage. Occasionally you¡¯d get it wrong. Too early or too late and you¡¯d miss an opportunity, or get yourself in more trouble than intended.


    In saying that, tonight I expected nothing but trouble. It wasn¡¯t often I had a contract that was solely to eradicate everyone in a certain area. People usually had other ways of getting such a thing done without so much mess. The intention here was to make it look like gang on gang violence. Some just-desserts for the massacre they had committed themselves.


    While we all danced in the shadows, the light of day scoured away at least some of the sordid puzzle come morning. Not that I intended to still be here come dawn.


    Bodies would be buried, and the building closed and swabbed for evidence. Maybe the cops were paid off too, and would turn a blind eye to a group of criminals being wiped from the city. Beyond the scope of my position. Despite the lack of care I took in covering my tracks, I was still an unknown. Part of my tech came with the ability to jam security cameras and leave cellphones without signal.


    I wasn¡¯t entirely sure if that was something purpose built, or a side-effect of the other things keeping me alive. The exact horror-show of how much of me had changed was something I didn¡¯t dwell on. My hand clenched into a fist.


    It was time.


    Air buzzed out through my re-breather as I stood and made my way out of the alley. Across the cluttered courtyard, I was barely illuminated by the crescent moon. Shotgun almost humming with the imminent violence. Ten-mag with incendiary shells loaded, one ready and raring to go as soon as I mentally clicked the trigger. I pulled the dark green hood of my overcoat up over my head.


    Stim pack registered the spike of adrenaline and gave me the pre-show package. A little dose of painkillers and strength boosting nanites so I didn¡¯t fluff the entrance and fold immediately. I didn¡¯t usually work thematic puns into my inner monologue, but something about my new neighbor had me a little off-kilter.


    Thoughts for after my contract was complete.


    I introduced the locked door to the muzzle end of my shotgun and rang the bell with a trigger pull. Amber sparks blazed across the surface, briefly illuminating the surrounding area. With the hefty swing of my boot, I invited myself in.


    Drab lighting and a darkened corridor, brighter illumination filtering from an open doorway to the right. Already, as the ruined door bounced on its hinges, there were the sounds of chairs scraping against tile and panic voices calling to grab for their weapons. Dulled by my ear protection, the telltale signs of conflict still pattered around the inside of my skull impatiently.


    With a thought, the pump on my arm slid back and forth. Well oiled and maintained, a smooth ride that ejected the spent orange cartridge to clatter amongst the filth behind me. But my focus was purely on the filth ahead of me.


    Part of their downfall was their emotional response.


    As my figure eclipsed the doorway, panic and confusion covered their faces. I was something against the normal. Had broken the usual flow of the expected. It just went to show how green this gang must be. Probably only enacted their own ambushes or fought where they had control and advantage. A smart way of staying alive, until you came up against someone like me.


    In the center of the room, a rounded table with a gathering of four chairs. Cards and chips on the table. Half-empty bottles of alcohol. A fluorescent white light above that annoyed my senses. Four men in suits with loosened ties and collars. It was like a snapshot where I could see things in slow motion. The sweat on their shirts, the loose cigarette in the mouth of the closest letting off wisps of smoke, and the gradual realization that I was a threat to them.


    Boosted by whatever bullshit they put in my stims, it was already over for them. The quickest to draw a pistol was my prime target as soon as I stepped into their den of prior peace. A click and the blast shredded his arm to the bone, his weapon dropping to the floor as his cheap suit lit up from the incendiary shrapnel.


    A pump and the next cartridge was chambered by the time my arm rose up toward the one smoking. Painted the back wall with his brains as my shots scorched lines of deep gray throughout the room. The next one had no gun, but had drawn a knife. While I ejected the spent shell and turned to him, he had leaped out at me.


    Pretty smart, if taken in a vacuum. While my system flooded with whatever bullshit chemicals made this all feel like it was being played out at half-speed, it was an opportune attack by him to strike me while my muzzle was hovering closer to the other side of the room.


    My left hand went up, and the knife plunged through my palm and out the back. No real elation on his face as the part of him that could think quicker than he could act realized he had just made himself a sitting duck. The shotgun pressed against his thigh was the other prompt giving him second thoughts. First blast, and he dropped to his knee, releasing the grip on his blade.


    Shotgun up to his clavicle. Second blast. Last man in the room was a miserable mess of sweat and expletives. Small cuts and burns from the shrapnel that had been bouncing throughout their little outpost. Instead of drawing a weapon, he had pulled out a phone to call for backup.


    A radio might have been more successful, but those who stood proud atop high technology often fell before thinking of building safeguards.


    I erased him with little thought, stepping over to put another blast in the first gangster I had maimed. Using an overhang on my gun, I leveraged the knife out of the wound in my hand. Didn¡¯t destroy tendon or bone, so should be fine. With a thought, I ejected the mag into my hand and clipped it back onto my belt. Brought the drum forward instead.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Racked the first cartridge and stepped away from the room. Seven shots for four goons was acceptable - the door having taken one of my allotment. I paused briefly to shut the back door and move a convenient metal bar in the way. Didn¡¯t want any distractions or collateral damage. Turning back to the darkened hallway, I passed the room now smoldering and sprayed with blood. Further in, the rhythmic pulse of heavy bass vibrated even through my earplugs.


    Loud music meant they didn¡¯t hear my warm up. More effective than any silencer, they seemed to have some manner of party in full swing. How fortuitous. Approaching the end of the hall where a neater door was set, I could smell the musk of such frivolity. Sweat, alcohol, smoke machines, and other, worse things. Although my nose wasn¡¯t augmented, the stims heightened what sense I had to a degree, and experience got you used to picking up on certain things.


    I worked out my shoulders ready, hearing the music rise in a crescendo. Their cheers and whoops within waiting for it. An opportunity too good even for such a sourpuss as myself to pass up.


    Just as the bass dropped, my boot struck the door, shattering the weak lock from the wood, spraying splinters into the room beyond. Flashing neon lights waved about darkened walls and spread across every surface in an odd, almost alluring pattern - in time with the thrumming music pitched forth by a handful of speakers at one end.


    Several rounded booths dotted around the room, circular with deep red couches and reflective black tables each. Fourteen men in various stages of inebriety. Glass bottles and shot glasses, cigarettes and cigars¡­ possibly some illegal narcotics, too. Some gormless looking DJ up the front who didn¡¯t even notice me enter. Many of them did. Their sheen shirts dazzling in the ever-changing lights. Mouths opened and closed in surprised yells or warnings, but I heard none of it.


    Most of them were unarmed or the thought of violence had been far beyond their active thoughts for the evening. While it was in character for me to double down on being such a party-pooper, the fact that they weren¡¯t all packing and prepared was doing some heavy lifting for the wet blanket about to drop back down.


    In a way, I found it rather rude. Maybe it was my privilege talking, but if you wanted to be ruthless killers, it seemed ill-conceived to get wasted and be without your weapons. Especially after making plenty of enemies among the corpses of those you betrayed. They couldn¡¯t be that shortsighted, surely?


    Nevertheless, my work didn¡¯t really involve my judgement or considerations on such matters. More opponents than I had anticipated, so I¡¯d have to be conservative with my ammunition. Especially as there was another room to the left. White door, well kept and shut. Probably where the boss was about to make his final stand.


    A click of the trigger followed my entrance, the muzzle flash adding to the light show. Their yells and scrambling weren¡¯t on the beat of the constant music, but it was all rather numb and beneath me now. Part of my brain ignored it all, sifting through all the distractions to just see figures and threats. Second shell into someone trying to draw a pistol, and I kept on walking toward the nearest group.


    Boss had often requested I find something useful to do with my left hand in combat. Told me that he hadn¡¯t put the synapse tech in so that I could load and fire my weapon through thought just so that I could just flip off my enemies as I blew them away.


    Had only done that once... everybody had bad days. Much like these gangsters at present.


    My gun lashed forward, and I struck the closest by his shoulder, fracturing his collarbone and sending him clattering backwards. I followed up by swinging it in a wide arc, to which the next in line ducked. Fine, as that let me fire into someone at the back with a firearm drawn. So eager were they to overpower me that the ones with knives and clubs were in the way of those few with guns. Sloppy work.


    I kicked out at the avoidant man, catching him in the stomach with my heavy boot as he rose back up. A step toward him as he reeled, and I brought my metal elbow down on the back of his head. He dropped to the floor, dazed, as the shell ejected from the shotgun. A shot rang out over the music and a warm feeling surged through my left shoulder. I twisted to see a pair over by the white door, one with a small gun, the other with a revolver.


    Perhaps I should request Boss turn my left arm into a gun as well. Although¡­ that would make certain things more difficult. Most things, really. Perhaps a shield? I fired into the gut of the one who shot me. A cruelty, but I never said I was a nice guy. Fresh stims washed through me to stifle the pain away and jump-start the healing process. Back to someone trying to stab me. I blocked the slash with my weapon, sparks dancing along the smooth metal of my arm.


    Truly within the melee now, I spun away from him, grabbing at his silk shirt to bring him in for a headbutt. A dense thud that clearly hurt his drunken head more than mine. I continued rotating with him still in my hand, my shotgun finishing off the dazed man on the floor. My human shield blocked the shot from the handgun by the door. His body twitching as his shirt soaked through with blood. Reloaded and then I finished both assailants off, a blast at the one at range before grabbing and twisting the neck of my protector.


    Received a blow to the back of my head, but by now I was full to the gills with adrenaline. Felt the warm blood in my hair. Turned and thrust my weapon straight into his face, breaking his nose before I clicked the trigger anyway.


    Their morale was broken. Two went to run toward the open door. Too slow. A few quick steps toward them and I caught them out, slamming the first into the brick wall and winding him. Second took a shot to the leg and flopped over to the floor, now slick with lashings of blood. Another loud pop and the DJ had taken aim. Grazed the side of my head. Not a bad attempt.


    I strode towards him as I did a one-two on a couple of the maimed figures. The room had cleared relatively fast, and the brazen tune-spinner didn¡¯t have quite the confidence that the first squeeze granted him. He fumbled, unable to work the mechanisms of a weapon he wasn¡¯t used to. Too late. I grabbed him by the hooded top and pulled his head down to crack onto his table, interrupting the music. A second, and then a third impact before I released him and ended his life with my gun.


    Now the silence was deafening. A hiss of disconnected audio filled the space, even as the disco lights tried to convince itself that everything was okay by continuing its job. In some ways, it was like me. I stepped past the rivers of crimson amongst the darkness of the shadowed flooring, ensuring that all were at peace. A juxtaposition given our current location, but¡­ they were.


    Trusty boot ejected the troublesome white door that was preventing my contract completion, and I stepped into a smaller room illuminated by soft blue and green lights. A hefty wooden desk at the other end occupied by a very worried-looking man in a white suit, accompanied by a second bulkier figure with a gun. The trigger of which pulled as soon as I entered, another flash of warm pain across my chest, and then a second through my leg, before I returned the favor and blew a chunk out of his ribcage.


    I stepped over awkwardly now, as my shot leg started to seize up. Didn¡¯t feel much in it and didn¡¯t care to look at it right now.


    The supposed kingpin stepped out from behind his desk with hands up, showing me he was no threat. Greased back hair and a snide coldness in his eyes that he couldn¡¯t hide even when his life was in danger.


    ¡°Stop - don¡¯t kill me¡­ and I¡¯ll double what they¡¯re paying you.¡±


    Another couple of steps toward him.


    ¡°Triple! Please!¡±


    Didn¡¯t care much for begging, nor money. These kinds of people didn¡¯t understand that this was my livelihood. If I allowed people to bribe or pay me off, then I¡¯d stop getting jobs. I had an amount of professional pride somewhere within me that wasn¡¯t currently peppered with lead.


    Kicked out his leg and he dropped to his knees. Eyes full of shock, he looked up at me to plead further, but I prevented any more slimy words from exiting his mouth by inserting the end of my gun into it. A shell ejected the side of the weapon as I mentally pumped a fresh shot into the chamber.


    Before sealing the deal, I furrowed my brow. Something was¡­ my head tilted to the side, looking back at the door I had kicked in. There was a blast and clatter of metal, dulled by distance. Then a second one, much closer.


    A couple seconds of silence, and then a woman dressed in bright red and silver stepped in through the opening.


    She furrowed her brow, confusion across her face. ¡°Dubs?¡±

 4 - Indecision

    Silence filled the office... aside from the man¡¯s teary-eyed gagging on my shotgun barrel and the electrical sparking of a light fitting that had taken damage in the fight.


    As confusion and disbelief slowly faded from the hero¡¯s face, she held up a hand to freeze me in place - figuratively. I hadn¡¯t budged, and had no intention of being anywhere else.


    ¡°Woah, woah, woah.¡± She shook her head. ¡°You did this? What the fuck, Dubs?¡±


    I shrugged. She was a superhero. It was quite likely she would either kill me outright for the murders or try to arrest me. Neither option would work out well for the both of us. Well, both options ended with me dead, if I were to be honest with myself. Still, she hadn¡¯t worked out which side that chip was going to fall.


    Likewise, I seemed to be willing to see what she had decided on before I completed my contract. Perhaps it was the injuries slowing my mind slightly. With the adrenaline fading away, a burning ache had started to grow up most of my left side. Lost a modest amount of blood, but was it enough to prevent me from being as sharp as usual?


    All it would take was a thought, and the man would be no more. Contract complete, even if Rockslide took my head off a split second after.


    ¡°What are the chances? Shit.¡± Her brow furrowed, and she ran her hand through her short red hair. ¡°League sent me over here on a mission to bust the leader. The guy currently fellating your arm was in charge of a bunch of gang murders the other day.¡±


    That was quite the coincidence. Usually, my work would never take me on the same path as a hero. Boss made sure of it, I was certain. That my new neighbor had turned up to the scene of the massacre was either dumb luck or someone was having a good laugh at my expense.


    Still, I had a job to do.


    The gangster squealed and choked as I pressed my gun slightly further into his mouth. I was trying to prompt her to make a decision, even if mine was the same either way. Probably he¡¯d be requesting the hero to take him in, if he could get any words out. Arrest might be preferable to the alternative.


    ¡°Stop!¡±


    I turned a glare toward her. Had she decided?


    She sighed. ¡°Look. I¡¯m kinda on the League¡¯s shitlist at the moment. I could really use a win. You¡¯ve¡­ what are you really doing here? Vigilante anti-hero? Are you part of this criminal underworld? Just a crazy psychopath?¡±


    Nothing legal, that was for sure. From what I knew, the League of Heroes kept a tight leash on their assets. It didn¡¯t surprise me that the brash woman was probably one of their problem children. I gave her a shrug, much to the detriment of the man with my weapon tickling his tonsils - as well as the burning pain in my left arm.


    ¡°Look how fucking bust up you are. You need to get to a hospital or something.¡±


    I shook my head.


    ¡°You¡¯re not making this easy on me, Dubs.¡± The conflict was easy to read in her eyes. I was too jaded to assume she was actually one of the good heroes. ¡°Just¡­ let me take in the leader and I¡¯ll forget about all the rest. But you need help, and I need this bust.¡±


    She must really be in the shit to let me go with not as much as a slap on the wrist. I didn¡¯t trust that. Few well-adjusted people could let something like this go. She saw all the bodies, knew that my arm wasn¡¯t just for show. That this wasn¡¯t a one-off event.


    What she was asking was impossible. No chance I¡¯d fail my contract, even If I died right after.


    I shook my head.


    ¡°Fuck. Please, Dubs.¡± She pulled a face. ¡°How¡¯s this? We¡¯ll flip for it?¡± From somewhere, she took out a coin and held it in her hand. ¡°You can call it okay? Or¡­ sorry, no - I¡¯ll have to.¡±


    Something cliche about leaving the fate of the man to chance, seeing as we were in the backrooms of a casino. Probably would have rubbed at my humors if I weren¡¯t lethargic from the growing pain in my side, and the annoyance at myself for allowing Roxy to talk at me for this long when I was on the clock.


    Her hand extended, the coin balanced on her thumb. ¡°Heads, I get the con, tails, he is all yours.¡±


    My head was starting to feel fluffy. Slowing down. I maintained a neutral glare at her.


    With a sharp ping, she flipped the coin into the air.


    I pulled the trigger before it even hit its apex.


    <hr>


    My car screamed into life as I hit the pedals. A second wave of reserve stims would keep me lucid enough to survive the ride home. Good thing there was little in terms of traffic, and it was mostly a straight line out of the city.


    Ending up wrapped around a pylon or civilian vehicle would be rather anticlimactic after the standoff with the super.


    Roxy hadn¡¯t killed me outright, which I felt was a mistake on her part. I had certainly learned a few new swear words as she constantly berated me from the office and all the way to the exit. Ear plugs, surprisingly, didn¡¯t help that much. She had to stay put - wasn¡¯t allowed to leave the crime scene and would have to report that someone had done the job for her.


    She might turn me in, and that would be the second smartest thing she could do. I needed to update Boss on this new turn of events¡­ he would advise me to go on the run, perhaps. Starting over wasn¡¯t ideal, but dying was worse. In my current state, I would die before hitting the next city. I¡¯d take the chance of stopping for rest and maintenance first.


    The super seemed to think I owed her favors, just because she was constantly trying to make friends with me. It wasn¡¯t something I needed or cared for. I completed my contract; I waited for the next contract. Repeat until I received the death that was long overdue.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    A real ''friend'' would understand that my work came above all, I assumed.


    Streetlights washed over my struggling vehicle in pulses. I had long figured I was living on borrowed time. Ever since I woke up with these augments five years ago. Didn¡¯t even remember my life before whatever accident had ruined my body. I owed Boss for saving me and would do his will until I couldn¡¯t. Only when I met my second end would the debt be paid off.


    Wasn¡¯t like I could filter back into normal society looking like this. Even less so after the years of training to be a hitman. Difficult to put warmth back in the furnace once it had frosted over.


    Events of the day had me more morose than usual, but I couldn¡¯t pin down why exactly. Roxy had brought complication into my normally simple life. And now this angry hero with godly strength lived next door to me. She had the power to stop me, but tried to appeal to my emotions. It was unfair. Underhanded in a way that I didn¡¯t understand.


    Better to not dwell on it right now.


    The lights of Goldarch faded as I exited toward the outskirts. High-rise buildings fell away to factories and warehouses, then storage yards, before finally dust and rocks. My car eventually slid into the patch of ground some might call a driveway. Yet, I felt no comfort in being home.


    I stumbled from the vehicle. The left side of my body was stiff and unresponsive. A glance towards my neighbor and one light was on at the top of her house - bedroom most likely. Stood to reason she might have made it home before me if she could fly or leap great distances. I was half expecting her to be waiting, either to twist my head off or to give me more of her ire.


    Didn¡¯t care. Contract complete.


    Shuffled myself up to the door, dragging my left foot through the loose gravel. Switched the traps off. Inside and the light came on. Mag and drum unclipped and placed upon the crate before I lugged my body towards the workbench. Another switch and an adjustable spotlight burst into life. I drew out a box that had the medical supplies in.


    First up was my hand. The knife wound had mostly closed up already, thanks to the stims. Probably wouldn¡¯t need stitches, so a bandage would do. I pressed a vice onto the edge of the workbench. Bandage dispenser slotted into the top and then I could wrap it around my normal hand. Not as tight as I would have liked, but it would do for what I was able.


    I shuffled my chair backward and adjusted the light to look at my leg properly for the first time.


    The bodyguard must have had some manner of shotgun too. A flechette launcher, perhaps? Something exotic. Nearly two dozen wound markers still filled with shrapnel. Adjusting the light, it looked as though the same had happened to my chest and left shoulder. Fewer wounds, however, as my many layers of thick clothing had absorbed half the intended projectiles.


    From within my medical box, I withdrew a small device. Pale white with stripes of yellow on one side. A handy piece of tech that could remove shrapnel from wounds. It wasn¡¯t exactly surgical in nature, but thankfully I didn¡¯t have the capacity to yell out in pain. Some mixture of special magnet, alongside a high-powered laser. Zap the site of the injury to burst and cauterize the flesh around the shrapnel so the magnet could pull it out. Maybe ¡®magnet¡¯ was the wrong term, as it worked on some non-metallic foreign objects.


    Something V-Force related, but Boss didn¡¯t exactly give me the instruction manual. Nor would I have read it.


    I set to work, my eyes clenched shut every time there was a pop, follow by the clink of the ejected material dropping to the floor. The smell of burned skin filled my nose and my re-breather whirred as I let out a long sigh. I might need to use the vice to repeat the same process on the wounds in my shoulder if my arm couldn¡¯t reach.


    After all this, I would need to set about stapling shut the holes in my clothes. Maybe bring out some spare fabric to cover the area. Despite my complaining arm, I tapped at the side of my hydration cannister. Would need to replace that too - combat often drained it quicker than sitting idle.


    I placed the shrapnel-remover down on the workbench while the battery recharged. Instead, I brought up my wrist to check the screen. Slowly, I pressed the button with the end of my gun and confirmed that my contract had been completed.


    Still hadn¡¯t let Boss know about my new neighbor. It wasn¡¯t even that I didn¡¯t want to - but typing out long messages with a shotgun tired my brain out like nothing else. There was sure to be a back and forth with him asking for more details or giving me a plan of action. I didn¡¯t have the stomach for it.


    Especially not with being lightheaded from the contract. I¡¯d wait to see if I died in the night first.


    Clean wounds. Replace can. Repair clothing. Maintain arm.


    It would be a long night, but once done, I¡¯d be able to sleep for as long as I wanted to. Boss wouldn¡¯t give me anything new tomorrow. I could even put off all the maintenance until the morning if I wanted¡­ but no, I had to do it now.


    Perhaps it was just to distract me from the uncomfortable feeling that I had gotten into something that would cause me grief in the near future. There was still a chance that Roxy could flatten my house in the night and take me out that way. A mercy I was unlikely to receive, as she seemed to see me as an ¡®innocent¡¯ still.


    Did I feel guilty? No. It was difficult to pair my work with such emotions. Apathetic and dissociative was the only way you could kill so much and not break. The super didn¡¯t have the strength to kill so easily, and for that it was a shame she couldn¡¯t get what she needed. I didn¡¯t wish her any hardship. If she would shut the fuck up and leave me alone, she¡¯d be much more palatable.


    Perhaps if she was one of the bad heroes, then¡­ no, there was no point rolling my tired brain over such abrasive thoughts.


    I replaced my hydration cannister while the tech was still charging up. This near-empty one didn¡¯t have the sediment at the bottom, but I also felt less satiated. For all the things that I could no longer do, enjoying food was probably the one I missed the most.


    Syrup-laden pancakes. Steak and veg. Fuck, even a basic toasted cheese sandwich. It was uncomfortable to reminisce over these things - not only because I no longer had the capacity to taste, but everything I had ever eaten was in my before-life. Perhaps the only thing that kept me from losing my sanity over it.


    Why I could remember these brief snapshots of food, but little else was neither here nor there. I still had the maturity and knowledge base of an adult rather than a five-year-old. It was just the memories of who I was that stood out of reach.


    A sharp hiss as the new cannister clipped in, and I shivered as the first burst of whatever was in them seeped into my system. I risked falling asleep once my body started to process it¡­ but I was pretty sure I¡¯d be alert once I started blasting the shrapnel from my body again.


    I paused. A noise from outside. Beneath my goggles, I glowered and turned my head toward the door. Footsteps grinding against loose dust and gravel. Slow and slightly aimless.


    Now I felt awake.


    Standing from the chair, I took two quiet steps over to my crates. Drum up and clicked into my arm. Racked a shell. Heartbeat was pounding in my chest, expecting that I was about to have a fight against a superhero. A few more steps took me to the door.


    One last whirr of a sigh through my re-breather filters, and I flung the door open - gun-arm up and ready.


    Pitch darkness returned my glare. I scoured the area for signs of anything¡­ but there was nobody there. The light in Roxy¡¯s house was now off. I waited a few heartbeats, unfocused but alert for the slightest movement or shadowed edge out in the open. Nothing. One last glance around and then I went back in. Closed the door, but kept my brow furrowed.


    Clearly, I had started losing it. Rough night. I exhaled, not realizing that I had been holding a breath.


    As I stepped back over the other side of the room and unloaded my arm, I heard the footsteps again.


    This time at a quicker pace and fading further away from my house, in the direction of where my neighbor lived.


    My hand remained gripped to my drum mag for a few minutes as I waited for something to happen. Eventually, the aching wounds in my leg won out, and I relented to resuming my maintenance duties.


    Boss wasn¡¯t likely to give me any work tomorrow, but I was certain there would be conflict of some kind.

 5 - Butt Heads

    After doing what I could to finish up my repairs in the tense silence of my singular room house, it didn¡¯t take long for sleep to take me.


    I found myself in a dream, which was unusual. Didn''t dream most nights. I stood beside a lake, or no - some kind of pleasant river. Two normal hands, but I couldn¡¯t speak. Behind me, a fire ravaged through the surrounding woodland. Despite the stifling smoke and gradual heat warming me, I couldn¡¯t stop staring at the flowing water. It was calming despite the danger.


    Any further details or insights into some hidden metaphor were slowly lost as I woke. Daytime once more, if the faint light breaching the covered windows were any sign. I turned and sat up on my mattress. Rubbed at my head. Even now, any vibrancy of my sleeping thoughts had faded. A waning mist turning into gray, shapeless mush.


    Wounds were pretty healed, but some ache remained on the fresh skin. Shrapnel removal device was rather traumatizing for the lower layers, so took an extra day or two to fix up even with the stims. Not that I had anything important planned for the day. Maybe spend the agonising time necessary to type out a status update for Boss.


    Two debriefing reports to send off, too. I¡¯d really dug myself some fresh hell this morning. Or afternoon. Wasn¡¯t too sure how long I slept in, and didn¡¯t care to check. The lack of routine on my off days was something to allow my brain to unwind and not weave itself tight enough to burst.


    Wasn¡¯t murdered in my sleep, which was¡­ nice? It was hard to paint it with anything more negative, otherwise I¡¯d sound more miserable than necessary.


    I sat on the edge of the mattress for a few minutes, with my eyes closed. Just¡­ existing and listening for any odd noises. Nothing out of the ordinary. Even though my house looked like it was built from the wreckage left in the wake of a hurricane, it was reasonably good at dampening the ambient noise of the wasteland further beyond where I slept.


    Far enough from the city to be away from prying eyes, but still close enough that I avoided roving mutant packs.


    That just drove my thoughts back to the possibility that Boss would relocate me to the next city over. Neo-Tully. They had tighter security, however. Would be difficult for me to even get in past their checkpoints. Then again, I shouldn¡¯t make plans for the unknown just yet. Still plenty of contracts here, no doubt.


    I wondered if the superhero had been coming over to kill me last night, but didn¡¯t have the courage to. It was also possible that she recalled a few additional insults to levy my way, but decided leaving it to the morning to berate me was sufficient punishment enough. There was plenty of boring crime in the city. She should focus on fighting that rather than tripping over my feet and being mad at me for the injustice. That or just kill me.


    With a sigh, I couldn¡¯t hold off on letting Boss know any longer. Mostly, I didn¡¯t want to move anywhere. There was some comfort in the known, and I had enjoyed my simple life of work and nothing else whatsoever. A voice at the back of my mind decried disagreement with such a statement, but it was soon silenced as I brought my STAR device up.


    I cursed my stubbornness at denying the vocalizer chip. At least I could now fully admit that I had taken things a little too far in trying to distance myself from a normal existence.


    So, I tapped slowly at the device with the muzzle of my gun-arm.


    Boss. Super moved in next door. Friendly but soft. Suspicious? Advise.


    Left out the part about her being annoying as shit and also that she had witnessed me off my target the night before. I normally went for full disclosure, but not only was typing agony, but¡­ part of me didn¡¯t want to get admonished from Boss as well. Didn''t need the only two living people I knew chewing me out.


    A tap on the side of my hydration cannister and it felt like it was near empty again. Recovery always drained them quicker... seemed like everything did these days. Needed to report that the newer ones had the sediment problem¡­ but that just added to my typing requirement. I sighed and accepted my fate.


    With no violence to mete out today, I might as well spend my time getting caught up on the rest of the ¡®paperwork¡¯. Perhaps if I had any sanity or energy left afterwards, I¡¯d sort through my ammunition crate and do some stocktaking. See if there was anything I¡¯d need to ask Boss to deliver.


    An errant thought danced through my mind. A question of whether there was any such ammunition that could disable the powers of a super. Small mag of those, and I¡¯d not be so worried about Roxy. Not that I was worried. But if there was going to be an eventual fight, I¡¯d like to be prepared to give it my all.


    With a sigh, I got up to my feet. She wasn¡¯t on my contract list, so I doubted I¡¯d really care to kill her even if she started something. Being irritating wasn''t a crime, certainly not one worthy of whatever I cost to hire.


    I walked over to the workbench to dig out a fresh can. Sat down and tried to recall the details of my contract against the snob with the death pool. Was it¡­ eight incapacitated, two dead? Had used almost a full ten-mag of the taser shells. I tapped the muzzle of my arm-gun on the edge of the bench as my mind played through that evening as if it was a movie.


    Nine and two. Seven tasered, two blunt force trauma, then killed two with normal cartridges. Nothing else really to report. Still had half a box of the incapacitating ammo, so didn¡¯t need to request more just yet. Didn¡¯t have the heart to add a smiley face at the end to provide feedback on how satisfied I was with the mission completion.


    Sent that one off as I slowly jabbed at the screen. Would have been nice if they affixed it to the side of my gun rather than my inner arm, but Boss didn¡¯t want it getting damaged or something. Complication with the V-Force powering my weapon. Said that it could be voice activated¡­ if I ever cared to have that part of me fixed. So far, I had refused. Life was easier without expelling my dour thoughts into the world. Up until the super had shown up, things were just peachy with me being inside my head all the time.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    I stretched out my arm before continuing to last night¡¯s contract report. Twenty dead¡­ no complications. A sigh as I paused on this note. It was true in that nothing interrupted my completion of the mission, nor prevented me from returning home safe. Was she a witness? Sure, but not exactly something easily explained.


    Problem was, I couldn¡¯t lie to Boss. Even bending the truth gave me an ick. This whole setup was built on trust. Full and correct information. But in saying that, I didn¡¯t know how things were going to pan out. If Roxy had reported me to the League or law enforcement, then that was a more dire position than if she would leave me be, but still live next door.


    Still, there wasn¡¯t exactly a way I could force a decisive answer out of her to let Boss know. At least, not with my lack of social skills.


    Just before I was about to start jabbing at my STAR once again, there was a knock at the door.


    My eyes went over to the drum mag. Now fully loaded and sitting expectantly at the top of the crate nearby. There was really only one person that would actually have the patience to knock and wait for me, and I didn¡¯t fancy the chances of my normal cartridges being any use.


    Against better judgement, I avoided loading up as I stepped towards the front of the house.


    The whirr of a sigh, before I readied myself and pulled open the door.


    It was her.


    Baggy gray tracksuit and navy baseball cap. Eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed. Must be her day off, and she was using her idle time to come and annoy me further. The hobbies some people had. Didn¡¯t look dressed to break my neck, but then again, it was more of a low profile outfit than her overt hero costume if she wanted to do it on the sly.


    ¡°W,¡± she began, as if spelling the letter out fully was my formal name. ¡°I feel like we need to clear the air about what happened last night.¡±


    A statement rather than a request. I felt like she needed to clear my doorstep of her presence, but didn¡¯t have a pleasant way of communicating that. She hadn¡¯t pulped my head in yet, so perhaps I¡¯d give her some allowance to speak what she needed. I gave her a slow shrug in response.


    ¡°I just need to know¡­ what you... are?¡± Her face wrinkled up. ¡°Some kind of mercenary?¡±


    I gave her a brief nod. Close enough to the truth.


    ¡°Do you kill good people? Bad guys? Innocents? Employed by someone, or solo?¡±


    Behind my green tinted goggles, I narrowed my eyes. Gestured with my hand that she was making this complicated. She understood the body language, at least.


    ¡°Sorry. I guess the important one is¡­ do you only kill criminals?¡±


    The truth had some nuance to it. While none of the people on my contracts were good, the morality of whether they should receive a death penalty without trial wasn¡¯t something I cared to deliberate over. Some things just didn¡¯t graze the behemoth that was law enough to become criminal, even if the act was reprehensible if gazed upon by wider society.


    I couldn¡¯t give her a clear yes or no answer, so I just maintained my blank stare.


    She worked her jaw, hoping that I would answer. ¡°Fucking¡­ you¡¯re an asshole. I feel like I¡¯m putting in all the effort here¡­ and you¡¯re just a wall. Mute or not, you¡¯re being a prick.¡±


    Still standing in my doorway, I glanced over to her house, before back at the fiery woman. For the most part, I just didn¡¯t understand why she was making the effort to be friendly and accepting. It wasn¡¯t just unnecessary, but also against what I thought the principles of a superhero should be. I¡¯d murdered a guy she was trying to arrest right in front of her, and she was acting as if I had just eaten the last¡­ whatever people ate. Pancakes.


    Any anger seemed to simmer and cool, as she came to the conclusion that I wasn¡¯t going to meet her halfway. The annoyance switched to disdain.


    ¡°Well. Fuck you then, Dubs.¡± Her crossed arms dropped, and she shrugged. ¡°I did my best, but this¡­ let¡¯s just stay out of each other¡¯s way? Okay?¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll be requesting a change of location. Until then, well¡­ don¡¯t get in my way again.¡± She turned and took a couple of steps away before stopping. Her head turned back to me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about getting reported or anything. Think of it as my goodbye gift.¡±


    She continued back to her house, flipping me off along the way.


    I closed the door, another sigh vibrating through my re-breather filters. Well, that was two matters settled. One less meddling superhero, and I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about the military knocking my door in at night. Relief would probably be the normal thing to feel at this stage¡­ but I just felt detached.


    Depending on how long she held up her side of the bargain, I might not need to relocate. The likelihood that I¡¯d get a contract where I¡¯d butt heads with the woman again was slim to none. Other than hearing her land in her front yard, it would be like she wasn¡¯t there.


    Sitting down in my chair, I didn¡¯t feel like doing much now. Even with the future reports to Boss clearer in my mind, thanks to Roxy¡¯s need to bully me with her affability... I couldn¡¯t stomach typing it all out again. My fingers drummed on my desk. Listless. Instead, I went and laid down on my mattress on the floor. Stared at the plain ceiling that had started to grow some manner of mildew or something. I wasn¡¯t even tired¡­ just taking an extended break. Yeah, that was it.


    Maybe I¡¯d get around to completing a full inventory check. Pretty sure there were some plastic explosives in one of the crates collecting dust. Last time I had needed one was¡­


    Oh, yeah. An odd contract in that it was in the wastelands themselves. Gang of mutants who had taken over an abandoned underground vault. Whoever had inherited it from their grandparents wanted it cleared out so they could strip it for anything useful. Nobody wanted to live in the wastelands - bunker or not.


    Usually the type of thing a Monster Hunter would deal with, but the profession had fallen out of fashion. Most people with natural abilities went the superhero route and dealt with crime in the city. Safer, and more fame and wealth to be gained. The Hunters that remained to date were the grisled and outlandish few. A possible plan B for me if things ever went sour with Boss. Head north, away from the city clusters and to the Deadzone.


    Find my death amongst the horrors there and hopefully make the world a marginally better place. I rolled my eyes at the notion. The only thing that I¡­


    I raised my left hand up to look at my wrist. A message, my STAR flashing light silver.


    Understood. Business as usual, but keep me updated. Boss.


    Hmm. Probably best to keep updates to the important things only, rather than every sour word the super leveled at me. I¡¯d give it a couple of days to see if she stuck to her word and kept out of my way, then I¡¯d tell Boss. If she got relocated, then this was just an odd blip in my life that I could simply move past.


    I would perhaps smile at this thought if I had any of the necessary physical parts. But something in the back of my mind told me it wouldn¡¯t be that easy to shake her.


    Not wanting the lady in red to totally eclipse my day, I begrudgingly accepted that a stock take might be a good use of my downtime. Yet, before I could even take a step towards the crates, my STAR illuminated again, another message received.


    Great work on both contracts, Agent W. Take a day to rest, and then I have something important for you. Busy season, rewards will increase. Boss.

 6 - Encryption

    At first, I spent some of my day of rest just staring at the wall opposite my mattress. Taking stock took a backseat to my navel-gazing. By the fifth time my eyes scoured the wall, I had memorized all the small oddities in grooves and discoloration amongst the metal plates¡­ but had also come to a realization.


    My life was due to become more complicated in short order. Unavoidable.


    The cryptic message from Boss had me eager for more details - up until the point that he delivered them. Now I wasn¡¯t sure what to think - which was unlike me. I twirled the empty nutrition cannister between my fingers and I ran my brain over the contract once more.


    Simple on the face of it. Someone with sticky fingers had taken something he shouldn¡¯t have. Said victim was paying handsomely for the recovery and implied eradication of the thief. Even before I hit the end of the message, I was wondering why they didn¡¯t involve law enforcement or the League if they knew the location of the target.


    Devil was in the details. The item that had been stolen was some kind of encrypted drive with League of Heroes information on it. Didn¡¯t specify what kind of data, or that the ones footing the bill was the League¡­ but even a casual connection was enough to have me on the back foot.


    Best not to think about the bigger picture. I was paid for the simple process of completing the contract as asked. With a sigh, I shook my head out. Fair to say that I was still reeling from the woman next door. Had me second-guessing my work. But no. This would be something simple for me to dart in and out, get a decent pay and continue on.


    Location was a good distance counter-clockwise around the city, in one of the warehouse districts. I¡¯d need to wait until dusk tomorrow to set off and get there by nightfall. Or¡­


    I flexed out my hand and observed it. Did I need the extra rest? Muscles were still stiff and aching as I recovered from the flechette injuries. Boss might cut me off if I turned up to the target on a day they weren¡¯t there. Shouldn¡¯t bite the hand that¡­ provides the necessary tech for me to live. Not that I could bite.


    A whirr from my filters as I sighed. I would be patient. It was best to take a calm approach. My eyes went over to the stacked crates. Might be time to see what fun I could have.


    <hr>


    My decrepit excuse for a car slowly ground to a halt. Lights went off, and I stepped out. The air was cool tonight and there was the occasional breeze that rustled through the sparse trees dotted every twenty-five feet along the sidewalk. Made the Warehouse District 4 look like less of an industrial hellscape.


    That was the intention, anyway.


    Waiting the whole day and a half to get started on this mission had been almost torture, but I couldn¡¯t allow boredom to dictate how I approached my work. Roxy had kept to her word, and we hadn¡¯t crossed paths. Not that such a thing was likely when I spent all my time inside my house rearranging my ammunition storage and repairing my clothing.


    Rushing into things was dangerous, so I had chosen to stay the course and work things out as designed. Over-thought about what I might need for the venture, but had decided to travel light.


    Only one target, after all. As much as the drum mag was a mainstay of my twilight activities, any solo job like this that needed even half that capacity would be a losing battle from the outset. I left it in the car, just in case Boss came in with an updated itinerary at the last minute. Better it here than back at home.


    Instead, two ten-mags. One with High Explosive Slugs. The other with Tazer shells. Not only would they be useful if there were any unexpected non-targets on location, but there may be robotics or electronics that needed disabling.


    I avoided the street lights as I skirted around the next building to find the one I would find my target in. Pretty nondescript, even if seen during the light of the day. In the darkness, it looked abandoned. Around the side and I found that the bottom of the fire escape stairway had been obscured by a dumpster and discarded boxes.


    The second step gave a warning of a creak before I paused. Would have to take this slower than anticipated. While my boots were designed to be as silent as possible, I was a substantial amount of weight - both due to my height, plus my augments.


    Nevertheless, I ascended. Gradually, ensuring not to let the metal beams give away my presence. Three doors at various points up the gray brick wall. Different workshop or office layers, I assumed. I ignored them and rose to the pinnacle. The roof.


    Up here, the breeze was a lot cooler, unrestrained by most of the other buildings in the area. I turned my eyes further toward the outskirts of the city, the wasteland barely visible under the light of the greater moon. Behind me, the city grew large and expansive. Tall buildings dotted with the lights of illuminated windows. Billboards and signs in their neon glow. Never cared for it. Still, it was a better place for a normal person to live than the border to the wastes.


    I furrowed my brow and shook the thoughts of the insufferable hero from my head. It had no bearing on tonight. The data drive I was recovering might as well be from somewhere else for as good as speculating on the contents would take me. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t the League plying Boss with the cash for the job. Could be someone else who wants the data for themselves.


    My eyes went over to the rooftop doorway that led back inside the top of the warehouse. Target was staying in the top floor offices. Armed, and there would most likely be some security measures. Brought my small toolkit for this one, taking up the space on my belt where my drum would usually sit.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Nothing too fancy. Something for cutting wires, drilling locks, and different forms of adhesive. Useful for when I couldn¡¯t kick my way through every door, in case I blew myself up, or I let the target know I was on my way.


    In saying that¡­


    I stopped before the metal door. The small awning over it did little to protect it from the elements, and the meager fluorescent light was barely clinging on to life. Still, it did help me with one thing. I kneeled down to observe the tripwire running just before the door. Ran through a small hole in the wall to whatever mechanism that it was ready and willing to set off.


    Couldn¡¯t risk finding out if releasing the tension would be safe or not. Already my toolkit was in hand. Drill-pins out, one near each side of the wire. Clamps at their heads containing the wire. Not exactly silent, as the pins screwed down into the stone tiles of the roof - but once in they held the tension in place, they allowed me to snip the middle of the wire. It dropped slack. The pins held. I was safe to proceed.


    The handle moved silently in the grip of my left hand, and the door opened inward. There wasn¡¯t a second trap or device, so I was probably dealing with an amateur. Of course, few would expect someone half proficient to waltz into a random warehouse at night. A glance at the tripwire¡¯s connection told me that releasing the tension would have set it off, just the same as increasing the tension. Whether it was an alarm or something worse wasn¡¯t really here or there - I didn¡¯t have X-ray vision.


    Down the set of stairs, and then I was on the upper floor of the warehouse. Not much different from what you¡¯d expect from an office-block, really. Prefab looking walls in a drab off-white. A deep blue edging to the panels. Gray speckled carpet. Depressing in a way I didn¡¯t quite understand. Something from my past? Or was I just empathetic to the plight of those who toiled away their life for the crumbs of the fat cats who¡­


    I stretched out my neck. Probably the latter. The disadvantage I had here was in not knowing the layout that well. If I made him jumpy before I could introduce him to my shotgun, then he might have an easy escape. Didn¡¯t have the resources to block off the known exits - not without alerting him. Usually not a problem, but I felt a little on edge. Something I couldn''t place, still.


    A doorway at this side of the corridor, and then one further down near the metal staircase that descended to the floor below. I decided against the closest doorway. I¡¯d much rather chase the rat up to the roof than further into the bowels of the warehouse. Kept my eyes along the floor and wall surfaces in case there were any other traps.


    Gave the door a once-over, and that seemed clear too. Shotgun already primed with a Tazer, which would be enough to do the job without needing to switch to the HE Slugs. A shame to bring them along for the ride to sit idle, but sometimes that was just how it went.


    I pushed the door open, a soft click sent out into whatever dull hell lay before me. Chest high walls separating desks with computers. Cubicles for the office workers. More interesting than this drab maze of corporate imprisonment was the glow of light from further down. An office, properly walled off from the rest of the worker spaces. That door was slightly ajar, and there was the murmur of a voice coming from within.


    Regulating my breathing, I moved against the wall and walked carefully toward the room. Another tripwire. Easily stepped over, but I probably wouldn¡¯t have seen it if my goggles weren¡¯t tinted an odd hue. My footwork became even more cautious as I reached the outer wall of this side office. The sound was clearly my target talking¡­ so I paused.


    ¡°¡­how it is. Second buyer dipped. Can¡¯t trust goblinoids for shit¡­ no, that¡¯s not racist that¡¯s¡­ fine¡­ alright, alright, send over the details.¡±


    The gaps in the conversation signaled he was on a call with someone, rather than there being more people in the room with him. I kept silent - no use letting the other person know what happened to him by being over-eager to share my ammunition.


    ¡°¡­yeah, I got it. Fifth on Heron¡­ that¡¯s what I said. Yeah¡­ okay, well, I gotta check out my cameras - they¡¯re having trouble. Of course I¡¯m safe¡­ alright, talk soon.¡±


    A few moments of silence other than the target murmuring a few choice curse words, and he didn¡¯t then start yapping to someone in the room. Instead, muffled clicks and the shuffle of a mouse. It wasn¡¯t the first time I had been thankful I had a camera jammer built into me. Technology these days allowed recording devices to be small enough to be almost invisible to the distracted eye.


    Target distracted and calm. I was satisfied enough. It was time.


    Three short steps, and the doorway was mine. Arm led me in as he swiveled on the office chair. Fumbled for something, but it was too late.


    With a blast, his body lit up with arcing blue energy. He convulsed and slipped to the floor, dropping the hastily grabbed pistol. Something energy based rather than conventional. Shoddily made, as well. I stepped over and crushed it beneath my boot. Did the same to the squirming man, the crack of his neck drawing a silent curtain over the room. Save for the hum of his computer, at least.


    I wasn¡¯t a detective, so the normal questions didn¡¯t really matter. Who he was, what he was up to, where he intended to sell the drive of whatever information. Asset retrieval wasn¡¯t really one of my specialities, but once the empty shell had hit the floor, it was only a matter of looking around.


    Empty drawers. Shelves of mundane folders and ornaments were on the walls. Whatever the usual occupant had left around or needed for their work. Around the back of the computer - an external drive that had been plugged in. He was accessing the info already. Perhaps perusing what he was intending to sell off.


    I wasn¡¯t paid to read it, so I didn¡¯t. Putting your nose in places it didn¡¯t belong just meant more shit to wade through. I¡¯d had enough of that as of late.


    Ejected it safely to maintain data integrity. Rather nondescript. Could be for anything - there wasn¡¯t a League of Heroes logo embossed on it, or anything so cliche. Even the small panel that probably held manufacturer specs or a serial number had been scrubbed blank. An oddity, but something I knew little enough about to ponder over further. It went into a side satchel on my belt.


    And then I left.


    Part of me expected Rockslide to show up, or even a different super who had some skin in the game. Boss tended to vet the contracts pretty well and he wouldn¡¯t allow me to be set up as a scapegoat. Although, I supposed I didn¡¯t know that for sure - but didn¡¯t see what was in it for him.


    All things told, I assumed I was a good money-maker.


    Now that it had been acquired, it was a simple matter of dropping the drive off in a designated mailbox, letting Boss know, and then I could drive home. Job done. Simple. Straightforward.


    But if that was the case¡­ why did I have a bad feeling in the back of my mind? More than a feeling, the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. Some manner of sense long developed during my work. Not so straightforward, after all.


    I stopped in the middle of the offices. Slowly removed the Tazer mag to replace it with the HE Slug one. My eyes went over to the side as I racked the shotgun mentally, placing the new type of shell in the chamber as the unused Tazer cartridge bounced across the thin carpet.


    A pair of glowing yellow eyes sunk back behind one of the divider walls at the far end of the room.

 7 - Hard Data

    My eyes gradually scanned across the dimly lit cubicles. I remained all but frozen in place, my gun-arm raising, ready to combat whatever was hiding amongst the waist-high walls and computer equipment. With eyes like that, it could be only one of a handful of things. Given that they were currently scurrying about out of sight, that narrowed it down further.


    A Ghoul was my educated guess.


    An odd choice for security measures, and uncommon in most of the city. Cheap, but unreliable. They hadn¡¯t done a decent job of protecting my target¡­ but I couldn¡¯t be lax and assume it was no threat. If anything, the job was more dangerous now by the process of adding more of the unknown to my contract.


    They were often employed to protect inanimate things rather than soft targets¡­ due to the cannibalism. Mutant-adjacent, a Ghoul was a human turned to a zombie by a mixture of different drugs. Cybernetics kept them together and energetic. Able to focus on simple tasks. Not especially intelligent, but cunning and ruthless.


    Just the one shouldn¡¯t be too much trouble. Contract was half complete, I just needed to get back to the car. There was enough space between me and the closest cover where, even if they remained hidden until the last moment, I¡¯d still have the time to pull the trigger. HE Shell against whatever sharp melee tools they carried. A done deal.


    That¡¯s if there was just the one.


    My right boot slid to the side, before my left mirrored the action, drawing me a step closer to the exit. Stepped over the trip-wire from before. Re-breather hummed as I took long, cautious breaths. The scratch of movement pricked my ears, but it wasn¡¯t coming from the wide room I was in. Out of the door to the corridor. The pads of footing against the metal staircase from the below floor. With my exits blocked, combat was now inevitable.


    The question of how well I¡¯d fare would be how many there really were. Ten shots in this mag and they didn¡¯t go down too easily. Anti-pain meds that put even my stims to shame. They came at a steeper cost, however. Heard a few tales about Ghouls dying with their victims still in their mouths, after sustaining terrible damage but still functioning enough to get the kill anyway.


    We¡¯d just have to see who could outlast who.


    I made to run toward the door, but twisted and slid backward across the carpet. Baiting out the one in the wide office. It worked. Like a predatory animal seeing their prey run, the Ghoul leaped from his hiding position and moved to intercept me.


    Right into my waiting line of fire.


    A click and I bore a crater through his chest, painting the drab office walls behind him in a vibrant shade of red. True to nature, the fact that his insides were now shredded didn¡¯t dissuade him from barreling towards me. Black leather and pale, dried skin. His bright yellow eyes were a match to the twin cannisters embedded into his upper arms, pumping him with whatever drugs kept him functional and ravenous for violence.


    Any point of ironic reflection would have to wait until later.


    His mouth opened, but with his internal organs leaking onto the gray carpet at record speed, he didn¡¯t have the motor controls to bite at me. Doubly so as I lashed back at his face, the crunch of his jaw vibrating down the side of my gun-arm. Still, he persisted, arms coming around to cling to me.


    I turned with him in tow, bogging my left arm down. The open doorway had spawned its first Ghoul eager for a taste, while at least another two pairs of yellowed eyes loomed in the corridor impatiently.


    Minor chance we¡¯d all die here.


    Aiming for center of mass was the sensible option, but it didn¡¯t stop them quick enough. While the next one near galloped through the office, I took the risk. Trigger pull, and his head exploded, splattering the ceiling with his brain and skull fragments. His body twitched and took two more large steps before tipping over, muscles fully tensed up.


    The one on my arm pressed his open mouth against my thick overcoat, but did little except soak the fabric through with blood and spittle.


    Next two entered the room, the first coming straight for me, not learning the lesson his predecessor had. Second Ghoul went off to the side to hide amongst the low walls. Pack tactics were rudimentary, but effective - even more so if they had a few more to their number. My shot blew out the leg of the one approaching, causing them to drop and start to crawl after me. Unending desire to try to get something edible.


    Racked the empty cartridge away and used the brief space to wedge the barrel into the broken mouth of the one hanging from my coat. Now without a head, the rest of him gave up on the attempt, and he slunk to the floor. Now I had the upper hand, albeit with ringing ears.


    Stepped forward and brought a boot down on the outstretched hand of the prone Ghoul trying to reach me. Broken bones didn¡¯t move the needle, but now it was pinned. High Explosive Slug to the top of the head, blowing a hole straight through the carpet and into the lower floor. The cheap material charred around the edges, before soaking through with Ghoul gore, thick globs dripping down into the work space beneath us.


    Five shots down, five remaining. Enough, if there was only the one opponent remaining.


    My left hand went down to make sure the data drive was still safe and secure. More the fool me if their intention was just to pickpocket me. No, it was there.


    I swept around the office with my raised shotgun. Silence had filled the long room once more. Aside from my heart pounding in my head, and the dripping of blood from the surfaces coated in foolish Ghoul, I could be deceived into believing I had imagined the last one. Would be easier if I were hallucinating.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Still, this had been a lot more of an ordeal than previously thought. There was the chance that someone could have heard the HE Slugs making a mess of the otherwise very mundane office. As much as I wanted to get away from the smell of the corpses and fill my lungs with fresh air, an expedient escape would be a benefit for the contract as a whole.


    The thought of being found out and having either the law or a super sent over to see what was up distracted my mind as I moved toward the door. No doubt it would be Rockslide who they sent, if only because someone out there was clearly intending for me to suffer as of late.


    I twisted as I met the threshold, aiming back into the office and expecting to have baited this last enemy, just as I had the first. A mistake made, as a jagged blade found its way into my flank.


    Sparks across my gun arm as I turned to the Ghoul in the corridor. Sneaky bastard had circled back out of the other door while I was distracted and laid a trap for me. Usually unlike their kind, but I wasn¡¯t opposed to learning a lesson the hard way - as long as I lived to absorb the new information.


    While the others had been content to claw and bite at me, this one wore a black leather mask obscuring their lower face. No parallel whatsoever. A jagged blade was strapped to either arm, each a good nine-inches long. Both very painful looking. Ask my bleeding internals how I knew.


    Dexterous, too. From this short range, he kept close to my gun as I turned it around, avoiding the muzzle while being able to slash out with his blades. Frenzied, which meant sloppy.


    I feigned a grab out towards the Ghoul before leveling a kick into his leg. He stumbled backward but remained standing. Gave me enough range, though.


    Click.


    An inexpert shot that I¡¯d reflect on later. A spray of blood as one dismembered arm clattered down the hallway, leaving a streak of dark crimson. The bright yellow liquid hissed and smoldered against the fabric of the carpet where it had shattered. He hissed behind his mask, and I felt a small spark of empathy.


    I leaped towards him, knocking into him with my shoulder. Received a slash from his remaining arm, but it was mostly superficial thanks to my many layers of clothing. Somehow he kept his footing again, and as the empty shell ejected from my arm, he darted to the side around my left in the hopes of avoiding the barrel end of my pointed accusations.


    But I was growing tired of this.


    While he expected me to turn to my left to keep a bead on him, I instead flashed to my right, bringing the heft of my arm around in a quick arc. By the time he went to raise his blade to block, I connected with his head. A crack that reverberated through the corridor, and he tipped to then slam his skull against the wall, denting it.


    Still, he wouldn¡¯t stay down. Sluggish and limp, he moved away from the wall to glare death at me.


    It would take more than that.


    Muzzle pushed his chin up so that I could look him in the eyes. They were vacant despite their anger. No living soul truly remained within this shell that was fueled by addiction and rage. Ghoul was pretty fucked, too.


    I put to bed the last of the security. Spent shell bounced across the floor and I switched back to the Tazer mag. Better nine shots than three, although I hoped by now I was in the clear. My eyes went up to the stairs leading to the roof. Silence and the absence of Rockslide greeted me. Bliss.


    Pain in my side as I walked toward the way out. Stims were lagging, so I gave them a helpful tap with my finger. A rush of painkillers surged through me, making me momentarily lightheaded as my body caught up to the tardy mistake of the small device. Mostly minor injuries, so I wasn¡¯t too concerned - although the amount of blood soaking my right side wasn¡¯t optimal.


    My re-breather whirred in lieu of grunting as I made my way up the metal steps, a wave of relief washing over me just as the chill breeze cleared my lungs of the heated struggle. I paused and enjoyed the serenity of it, my body temperature cooling to a comfortable degree as I breathed easy. Gathered my wits, and then went over to the fire escape.


    Tapped the data drive to ensure it was still there. It was.


    Another couple of agonising and slow minutes passed as I descended the building. I kept my eyes peeled for any sign that my firefight had been noticed. It was still dark, and any roving security guard must not have come this way. Fortune favors the bold... and also the ones who had stolen and memorized the rotas last month.


    I stopped in front of my car, a frown pressing against the top of my goggles.


    A parking ticket.


    The whirr of a sigh escaped my re-breather, and I looked around the quiet streets. No sign of the attendant. It went without saying that I abhorred bureaucracy, being someone disjointed from normal society and laws.


    I tore it from my windshield, leaving a square of sticky residue. Stepped over to the bordering wall beside my vehicle and stuck it on the brickworks. Arm up, I placed a Tazer shot in it. There was a fizz of something electrical failing under the arcs of blue, before a powder of gray brick dropped to the ground. Even leaving the notice here, I wouldn¡¯t run the risk of anything tracking my actions.


    Breaking the law to save on a handful of credits was perhaps the smallest crime wrought this evening. Necessary, as I didn¡¯t need the law knowing where I lived¡­ although perhaps I could pass on the malady to my neighbor, given that my house looked more like a disused shed.


    No. Focus on the task at hand. I shook my head and got into the car, a weird mix of comfort from the seat, and pain from the way my damaged muscles had to bend. Although I gave the stim pack another tap, it didn¡¯t provide me with any more relief. They lasted a lot longer than my nutrition cannisters, but perhaps it was time for this one to be replaced.


    Vehicle shuddered into life with as much disdain for existing as it could muster. Drop-off was a good twenty minutes clockwise, slightly closer to the main city. A simple deposit, notification, and then ride home.


    So¡­ what was giving me pause?


    Despite the simple life that I tried to live, I wasn¡¯t just a blunt tool. I had some smarts. Too much convenience in a super appearing in my life, and then getting a contract that had something to do with the League of Heroes. But what option did I have? If I absconded with the drive myself, Boss would cut me off - and probably send someone after me.


    Wasn¡¯t worth me getting assassinated over.


    It might not even be something that important. Proof of adultery. Someone sequestering funds that they shouldn¡¯t. Chat logs where people were bad-mouthing their superiors.


    Anything more than that was baseless speculation on my part, and it would be a disservice to my exemplary record to go rogue over something so banal. Perhaps it was the small part of me that felt I owed Roxy a favor for beating her to the mob boss¡­ although I wasn¡¯t sure why I believed that.


    Before the car had the opportunity to die on the spot from my inaction, I hit the pedal and went forward to my destination. I¡¯d complete the contract - if I still wanted to do something for the annoying super once the drugs flooding my system faded away, then it could be something that wouldn¡¯t be career-ending.


    My fingers drummed on the steering wheel as I tried to make sense of why these were my current thoughts. I¡¯d need to do a toxicology test when I got back and make sure the Ghoul¡¯s blades weren¡¯t covered in anything potentially mind altering.


    I thundered on through the night, keeping my brain empty so that I didn¡¯t earn myself a headache. Out of all the shifting tides washing fresh debris up on my shore, one thing was for certain.


    Those extra rewards Boss had promised better be something good.

 8 - Care Package

    My vehicle slid to the stop on the dry dirt, barely out of the city limits. I popped the door open and stumbled out, hand and gun-arm rested against my thighs as I hunched over. Hot sweat dripped from my forehead onto the shadowed dust of the ground below me.


    I was burning up something fierce.


    Another tap at my stims and they were inert. Couldn¡¯t tell whether I¡¯d run them dry, or they were malfunctioning. A second tap at my nutrition cannister and it was empty. Dehydration gave a hint to why I had the heavy weight of a headache coming on. I stumbled back to sit on the edge of the front seat, and flipped my hand through the glove compartment.


    No gloves in sight, but there was a fresh cannister. It might seem like I took my safety for granted, but I did try to be prepared. No clean stim pack, however - those things were more unstable and had to be stored properly. This can was one of the newer ones with sediment problems, but for a man with no mouth I¡¯d take what I could get.


    Old can out and chucked in the passenger footwell - wouldn¡¯t be a good idea to litter and leave evidence lying about. Fresh one hissed as it popped in, my body convulsing as a needed chilling jolt ran through me. Almost broke the fever, but I needed some medical attention. Probably would have thrown up if I were capable. Small blessings.


    I sat there for a minute, just focusing on my breathing and ignoring the thick fog trying to cloud my mind.


    Eventually, a wave of whatever malady I had become cursed with started to seep away and give me a brief reprieve. Head was pounding now, despite the hydration working its way around my system.


    It was likely I had internal bleeding, possibly damage to some organs. Served me right for being distracted. Stims could usually patch that kind of thing up, but they had clearly been left reeling from my rough week. My mattress was beckoning, but a glow of silver from my left wrist told me that sleep wasn¡¯t on the cards for a while.


    Item has been retrieved. Credits transferred, and there¡¯s something waiting for you at Point C. Boss.


    I was mostly glad he said something instead of someone. We had five pickup points on this side of the city, as there was too much security risk in having anyone drop things off at my house directly. Boss would switch them up - I assumed so that likewise, I couldn¡¯t intercept the courier myself.


    Point C was¡­ back in the city by ten minutes. Clockwise again, near the north. Not too much of a detour, but it would extend the time shuffling about without pain relief. Worse to leave it idle to the next day, as I was sure I¡¯d pass out as soon as I got home.


    The door slapped shut, and the vehicle shuddered into doing my whim once more. Fresh beads of sweat ran down my head, my hair already drenched. All these layers weren¡¯t helping, but I wasn¡¯t about to strip down while driving. Partly because I was sure some of the fabric had fused to my slowly healing wound. The others reasons weren¡¯t important.


    With tired eyes, I made the necessary journey. The wave of streetlights pulsing over the vehicle, briefly illuminating the debris and decay within. Lulling me to sleep. I pushed my metal elbow into my wound, the brief spike of pain keeping me more alert. Uncomfortable.


    But I wasn¡¯t at risk of death, I was mostly sure.


    I¡¯d had a lot worse on a number of occasions. Boss had given up on trying to get me to wear something more practical. The nature of my work was turning up unexpectedly with gross firepower. Any situation where I was taking sustained damage was a failure on either the contract or my part to prepare for it. My track record spoke for itself. Currently alive.


    Not that it would make the rest of the evening much fun.


    The car slowed to a halt beside an alleyway. A quiet place behind some shuttered fast-food joints. As much as my eyes ached, I narrowed them down the road, and then behind me, before I opened up the door. Although the streets were usually empty at this time of the day, it paid to be cautious.


    Out across the sidewalk, my right side cramped up as I walked. Into the darkness of the alley. Halfway in, turned behind the dumpster to see a group of worn cardboard boxes. One of them had a W scrawled in red ink. My gift.


    Had some heft to it, but I was back in the car before I knew it. A deep breath that I had been holding whirring through my re-breather as I sunk into the seat. It could wait until I got home, but desperation for some relief had me running my thumb under the seal.


    Ignored most of the boxes and cases within to pluck my salvation.


    Three fresh stim packs.


    At first, knowing that I hadn¡¯t requested them could only mean that Boss expected me to need them soon. He did say things were about to pick up - but what could he know? Any further deliberation washed away as I awkwardly popped one of the fresh packs open.


    Questions could wait for me to feel better.


    Two short clips on my neck and I could remove the old stims - a prick of pain as I drew it away. Into the footwell on the other side of the car it went. I narrowed my eyes at the newer one in my hand. Unlike the cannisters, the stims were square shaped and aligned with eight pins that needed to poke into the right sockets. Getting the alignment wrong could fuck up the contacts and ruin the precious cargo.


    Deep breath. Double checked and placed it in place. Some slight resistance that had me second-guessing¡­ but then - there. A click and instant flooding of powerful nanites struck my system. Or whatever was in them. Right now, I was as far from caring as possible.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    I closed my eyes and sunk further into my seat, a warmth and calm radiating through my body. A slow exhale left my gas mask, and I felt¡­ happy.


    An irregular feeling shortly snapped away by the rapping of knuckles on my window.


    Eyes jolted open, and I turned to the shaded figure. He leaned down to get a good view of me. A city cop. K. Brosnan, Nightwatch Division Three, his badge told me.


    ¡°You alright there, sir?¡± His eyebrows raised, taking in everything happening within my vehicle. ¡°Not hooking up with anything illegal there, are you?¡±


    I shook my head slowly.


    He looked down, noticing the elephant in the room. A flashlight appeared in his hand to illuminate the large gun-arm. ¡°Got a license for that?¡±


    I nodded, equally as slowly.


    While he clearly saw me as suspicious, he was rather calm. A tiredness in his brown eyes, and a youth to his face that could mean he was reasonably new to the force, but overworked. Slim face and short brown hair that was mostly hidden by the peaked hat of his uniform. It didn¡¯t look as though he had spotted my injuries, but it was only a matter of time.


    ¡°No vocalizer, sir? I¡¯ll need to see your vehicle and weapon augment license. Could you roll down your window?¡±


    I stared at him blankly. While I felt elated that my pain was now nothing but a throbbing numbness, my brain tried to get me into gear. I needed a solution out of this.


    Still had a chambered Tazer shot even if I had removed the mag prior. I had reloaded by reflex after dismantling the parking ticket, even if my intention was to be done for the evening. Wouldn¡¯t have the force to pierce through the car door before electrifying the vehicle instead of the cop.


    Didn¡¯t care to murder him, even if it was the easiest solution. Not just because he was innocent, but also it would complicate my job exponentially. From what I knew, city cops had an alarm built into their uniform that put out an alert if they were sufficiently harmed.


    My hand pressed at the button that would lower the window. A squeal rang out, and the pane shuddered with resentment as it tried to slide down. The cop tensed up, as he could see more of me and the contents of the vehicle.


    ¡°Nice and slow, sir.¡± Something was in his hand now, unclipped from his belt. ¡°Licenses, please.¡±


    I gestured over to the debris all over the passenger¡¯s side, to indicate that they might be amongst all the trash. They definitely weren¡¯t, but with his allowance, I had a few more seconds to think about my fate.


    ¡°If you can¡¯t find them, we can run the digital tests. Might be quicker¡­ and it looks like you should be seeking medical attention.¡± There was a sharpness to his voice now that cut through the air much easier than the Ghoul who gave me the current wound that the cop was no doubt staring at.


    Leaning over had exposed the truth. If he was suspicious before, then by now he¡¯d be close to calling in for backup.


    My hand went into the new package from Boss. Other than the stims, there was the familiar case that had extra nutrition cannisters. Two smaller black cases that I daren¡¯t open right now¡­ and then, something familiar. Been a while, but the shape was unmistakable even if I couldn''t see it.


    Boss might be pissed that I¡¯d have wasted one almost immediately, but the small care package had been something of a savior, and I was keen to continue that trend. The alternative was¡­


    No, activating the EMP grenade would actually be a bigger headache than being caught. Still, my finger was already pressing the button, the catch released before the rest of my brain could fully understand the decision made.


    Short beep and then a wave of screaming energy burst around us. The shockwave knocking me back into a seated position as the cop collapsed to the floor holding his ears.


    Would have apologized if I could, but instead the ignition roared to life and I spun the vehicle away. This was one of the reasons I maintained the old guzzler rather than upgrading to a higher-tech mode of transport. It barely functioned on a good day, but didn¡¯t care much for what got thrown in its way otherwise.


    Despite the stims, I now had a throbbing headache again. Reasons were clear. EMP also shut off whatever parts of me used technology to function. Gun-arm hung limp on my lap as I drove, holding my breath until I could be sure that I had the strength to push it through the filters.


    Dark specks started to flicker in my vision, but a glance in my rearview had the cop still laying on the ground, still moving. He¡¯d be fine - discomfort for a day or two as whatever implants he had booted back up. My arm twitched as I started to regain control, and I took a deeply needed breath.


    Now fully awake, I took the scenic route around a couple of blocks, waiting to see if pursuit would come. It seemed not, so I barreled forth toward the wastelands. Eyes twitched every time a streetlight washed over me.


    Migraine cracking through my skull, and now even more exhausted. Into the darkness I rode, until muscle memory took my vehicle sliding into my drive. Box into my hands, I stepped out, aches vibrating through my chest. An eye over to Roxy, but all the lights were off. Figures, as it was still pretty late.


    From this point till I was prone on my mattress, everything was a brief blur. Pretty much just unloaded everything and sunk into the floor as the stims hit me with a refreshed wash of painkilling bullshit.


    Sleep then took me near instantly. No dreams. My body almost believed I could get some decent rest.


    Then, a noise that woke me scraped through the part of my brain still tender. Eyes burned as I scowled at the wall. Hadn¡¯t slept for long - I could feel my body crying out in exhaustion. The uncomfortable worm of adrenaline stopped me from grasping at what I desired.


    Was it the super returning? No, too constant. Distant still.


    My fist clenched closed as a vibration thrummed through my mattress. Something that reminded me of the helicopters from earlier this week. If I was about to get another unexpected neighbor, I might just load up and let them know in no uncertain terms that I wasn¡¯t keen on the prospect.


    Of course, where this differed was the noise was clearly ground-level.


    I sat up and stretched my neck from side to side. An awkward movement given how stacked with various tech that part of me was. The tempting thought that it might just be someone inadvertently passing by was doomed to fail from the outset. Still dark out. Dawn had yet to even think about gracing the world with light. Fate had determined I was to be ground into dust now, having committed enough sins, perhaps.


    My penance was to be dragged into continual migraine-inducing drama.


    I was about sick of it, and close to introducing a zero-tolerance policy.


    As the vibrations increased, I stood from the mattress and stepped over to my crates. With a deliberate methodology, I started to prepare in a manner that probably looked rather calm. Were I able to clench my jaw or seethe, then it¡¯d perhaps show how angered I truly was.


    Opened up the chamber and slid the solid metal bullet of a Sanguine stake inside. Then clipped in the drum full of mundane shot. I didn¡¯t know what I was about to get myself into, but I wanted the first person I could pin the blame on for my interrupted sleep to be as dead as possible.


    It was clearly motors now. Noisy ones, at that. A handful that I could make out from standing here inside my house. Closer and then¡­ yes, they stopped just outside. Around the front of my home. Murmured voices as two or three engines cut out while the others continued to splutter and scratch at the insides of my skull. Aggravating.


    I did not do well with migraines.


    A burst of pre-show stims flooded through my veins and warmed me.


    With a few short strides, I pushed open the door to see who was about to earn a tangible taste of my ire.

 9 - Bad Spell

    With my head still fragmented like a discarded eggshell, I had to pause once I saw what was actually waiting for me outside. There was a high chance I had become delirious or perhaps was still in a dream state. No, couldn¡¯t be that simple.


    My ears had been on the mark, as several motorbikes stood across the part of the arid land that I¡¯d class as my front yard. Seven of them, if my tired brain could count the number of bright beams illuminating the area via their headlights. To add to the pain currently flooding through my eyes, hovering orbs of light acted as spotlights, plunging the nearby into a faux daylight.


    Now even thinking the word light was giving my brain a sharp needling.


    A dozen figures either sitting atop their bikes or slowly walking over to the leader of this bunch. It took me a good second to clock that none of them were facing me. Some of the tension in my muscles softened out at not being immediately under siege. Definitely wasn¡¯t the cops having tracked me down, nor anything worse.


    The other oddity about this group, that had me more relaxed, was because they were all wearing robes rather than something more cliche. At the front, a red wizard¡¯s hat sat atop a flowing gray beard. The rest had more simple attire, but overall it looked more like they were on their way to something and had gotten lost.


    It took another couple of my lumbering steps toward them before one of the middling gang members caught sight of me - their attention otherwise too focused on Roxy''s house, it appeared. Once spotted, their murmured focus slowly turned to me like a creeping wave. I kept on going toward the head honcho, who turned with sparkles in his eyes - and slight surprise at the sight of me.


    "Heavens! I didn''t think we were far out enough for mutants." He cast an eye up and down me as a hand ran through his beard. It wasn''t one of his hands, so it added fuel to the possibility I was imagining all this. "Or have you come to challenge the foul Rockslide as well?"


    I took a glance over at her house, windows still pitch black despite the harsh light from those gathered. Either she was out, or slept like a rock. That put this picture more in the frame, however.


    This man was a villain.


    Despite the name, it didn''t necessarily mean he was a bad person. I, of all people, could understand that. A designation given to those with powers who shunned the League and actively worked against society. I didn''t kill innocents, and was currently running through my memory to try to remember if waking me up with a migraine was a crime.


    Jury was still out.


    I looked back at the head wizard, realizing that he was after some kind of response from me. I pointed to my neck and shrugged.


    "Mute, eh? I have a spell for that, but unfortunately I did not prepare it this morning." He ran his tongue around his lips. "Say, you look rather villainous - are you looking for a group to join?"


    I glanced at the gathered mages. They looked like acolytes, the hoods on their robes up and shadowing their faces. While they each had a book or wand to hand, most also had firearms and tactical gear on. An odd juxtaposition.


    Neither a very law-abiding look, nor anything close to helping with my sanity.


    I mimed rubbing my chin before gesturing at Roxy''s house. I''d need to hear a sales pitch before I signed off on anything. Not that I needed to buy any of the parties involved some extra time. Were the super here, I was sure I''d be complaining about the headache received as she pulped these costumed halfwits into the dirt instead of having to play pantomime with these weirdos myself.


    "That''s right! We''re here to kill the supposed hero! Foolishly, she has stepped outside of the jurisdiction of the League - so we shall grasp out at receiving the honor of being the ones to end her reign of tyranny."


    While I certainly didn''t agree with her social graces, I wasn¡¯t fully onboard with joining an attempted murder against her. I tried to signal that she wasn''t likely at home.


    "No? That is no matter, we will simply destroy her house so that it looks no better than the rusted¡ªand frankly appalling¡ªabandoned shed behind you."


    Whether it was the mania in his eyes or the terrible lighting of the area, he didn''t seem to be able to read my facial expression very well. Of what little amount of face I could use to express my thoughts, anyway.


    "So what say you, friend? Care to join an unstoppable force fighting for change? You might not have magical powers yet, and we''ll have to source some robes that are large enough, but I can see you going places in no time."


    I shrugged and gave him a brief nod. Didn''t have much else to be doing at present. Boss had been lukewarm with the super. Perhaps he''d be the same with a villain in my life? Wasn¡¯t like I had the opportunity to update him on proceedings. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.


    "Perfect! Grand Magus Barth¨¦lemy B¨¦raud." He held a hand out to be shaken. "Let''s fuck this bitch up."The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I placed the muzzle of my gun-arm in his hand, which briefly confused him. The expression deepened as a couple inches of reinforced steel gave parting regards to the insides of his heart before jettisoning out into the dark of night. He clutched at the near-perfect hole punctured through his robes as they darkened with crimson. Any spell failed to exit his mouth as the spark left his eyes.


    Was it because he interrupted my sleep and insulted my house? That he wanted to recruit me to kill someone who was potentially innocent? Or just because he called her a bitch? It didn¡¯t matter - could be one or all of the above. Short answer was he had outstayed his welcome, and now his body was slumping over, dead. Littering my yard.


    I turned to his shocked group and fired off a quickly racked shot from my drum, shredding through the leg of the first acolyte. Now that prompted them into action. Against the idling motors and the panicked yells as weapons and spells were being brought to bear, my pained mind screamed bloody murder.


    Hit the dusty ground into a roll, as a sharp prickle of lightning arced across the ground where I had been standing, drawing a line of charred stone. Muzzle went up, and I shot one of the vehicles. Headlight went out, dimming the area slightly. A hiss from the guts of the noisy machine that didn¡¯t give the two standing beside it much chance to move - before it exploded.


    A wave of heat washed over those left standing, but as I went to move, my feet stuck in place. Ice had appeared and froze me to the ground. I twisted to see the perpetrator. Looking rather pleased with themselves, they were charging up another ice-based attack. Unfortunately, I was terrible at one-liners, so I just put a shotgun blast through his face. Bang.


    Up ahead, another wizard with a chest rig had just finished loading up a submachine gun and was aiming it my way. Empty shell out the side of my arm as a fresh one entered the chamber. Almost felt sorry for them - that they came so under-prepared. They wanted to take down a strength based super with light ammunition and party tricks?


    A large ball of fire enveloped me from the side, just as the gunner opened fire - a spray of bullets entering the torrent of heat that surrounded me.


    Flames lapped at the outer layers of my clothing as I stepped out of the inferno, putting a shot in the gut of my first assailant. He dropped his gun to clutch at his wound, and I racked a second that went into his head.


    Had received five shots of my own in the process. The spray had swerved to the left, one stomach, one upper torso, and three in my arm. Stims were earning their first paycheck, not a day on the job and already on overtime.


    I dove to the floor behind one of the motorbikes to avoid a barrage of magic bolts; the attacks zipping overhead into the darkness like fireworks. A couple more dead and the rest should turn tail. At some point, self preservation won out over¡­


    Quickly, I spun and placed my feet against the bike just before it was struck by a heavy force. Gravel biting through my clothing, I slid on my back, propping the vehicle up as it pushed me along the yard. Back up to my feet, I saw that one of the mages now had large ethereal hands that were glowing a light green.


    Fighting out in the open was one of my least favorite things. I preferred my enemies to be compartmentalized, my success measured out room by room. No cover and little to use as impromptu weapons soured my mood even further. Even with all the bravado in the world, I wasn¡¯t confident I could win in a shoot-out against¡­ half a dozen or so wizard-bandits.


    I ducked back behind the bike as I heard my opponents getting ready. It must have belonged to the Grand Magus, as it was the larger and better equipped. Through the gaps in the bodywork, I caught a glimpse of my dejected looking car attempting to shy away from the bright lights.


    Perhaps it was time.


    A handful of loose dust clouded my movement as I threw it into the air, two bolts of sharp fire zipping past me into the night, while a third struck my gun-arm to no effect. Under partial obscurement, I straddled the bike and flipped the go switch.


    The beast roared into life as I became its new owner. A row of buttons just beneath the handlebars was eager for my attention. Blast from my muzzle flashed and burst the gun from the hand of one acolyte. One of the main lights overhead faded away. As I reloaded, my barrel came in and jabbed at the blue button.


    Back tyre spun in place as the bike turned ninety-degrees toward my assailants, kicking up further clouds of dirt. The bubble of a magic shield warped around my vehicle, deflecting the next couple of spells volleyed toward me.


    This was their turning point. With curses and yelps, the remaining few turned their attention to getting away from me. Too late. Their first mistake was waking me up. Everything else after was just a miserable narrative written in owed blood.


    A shot that shredded the nearest bike¡¯s back tyre, and then I surged forward. Slid across the loose gravel to slam into a panicked mage. Empty cartridge out, new one in. Center mass, before my bike bit into the terrain and lurched me forward again.


    One wizard had started their machine up and was in the process of turning it to escape back to the city. Muzzle pressed the red button. Arcs of static electrics burst out along the ground, rolling up the discarded vehicles and the mages unlucky enough to be in the way.


    The neck of the one about to escape twisted and snapped as I struck him with my arm in passing. With another power slide, I looked back at the carnage. All overhead lights had now faded away, and the hellish scene was only lit by a couple of headlights on inert vehicles.


    A few injured to take care of, but all threats had been subdued. Aside from my own brain trying to exit my skull, of course.


    I flipped my bike off and stepped down. Spatters of blood fell from my wounds as a dull ache radiated from my left arm. Stims could only do so much, and I¡¯d start hurting now that the combat had abated.


    Next part was the biggest downside of fighting right outside where I lived. Wouldn¡¯t be much of a secluded out-of-the way abode if vultures started circling the corpses strewn around the place.


    With a long exhale through my re-breather, I accepted that I needed to complete this self-imposed contract properly.


    Spent some time digging a hole. Between the sweat and growing pain, I didn¡¯t know how long it took. The sun started to peer over the horizon and I was keen for my sins to escape the judgement of the scouring daytime. Shallow grave, but I disabled all vehicles except for my claimed bike and piled them up over the turned earth. Swept under the rug.


    Barely any feeling in my left arm now, even if I could move it. Numb from the constant movement while still injured. Migraine had its sharp claws wrapped around my brain, digging in at any change of light or sudden movement.


    Stumbled into my house. Flipped off the light as it flickered on. Into my chair. Removed shrapnel. Fresh cannister. Back into bed, not realizing I hadn¡¯t even ejected my drum yet.


    Didn¡¯t matter, as now I was safe. Rest could be had amongst the swirling vortex of pain and exhaustion.


    How long until further annoyance darkened my doorstep? No doubt it would be in no time at all.

 10 - Verbal Agreement

    It was hard to tell if I had dreamed during my deep sleep, as there was no mental record of it. There was a feeling that I had felt something - more of a force, perhaps. A swirl of emotion as if I were an old pot of paint that someone was trying to bring back to life. A drab color, I was sure, but all things had a purpose.


    My eyes shot open at the sound of knocking at my door.


    I was starting to hate doors. As if it was their fault that they became something to be beat upon to get my attention. Seemed more reasonable than blaming the perpetrator, as it wasn¡¯t likely I could remove their hands. Not that it would stop them. I wondered if I wished for an un-knock-able door it would come true.


    Perhaps I could just pretend to be out. It was daytime now. My aching body was still stiff, and would prefer to remain in this position for a dozen or two more hours. A believable lie.


    ¡°Dubs? It¡¯s me. Don¡¯t want to come in just in case you are indecent.¡±


    Or rather, I should wish to be able to scream - that would be a true blessing.


    I had no way to tell her I¡¯d be a few minutes without putting a shot through the door - which, while tempting, would let in too much air when it got cold. Nutrition cannister was empty, a betrayal.


    ¡°I just want to say a few things about last night.¡±


    Either she could read the pile of bikes and spread of debris and blood like a clairvoyant, or she otherwise had eyes on my nighttime exercise. Latter seemed quite likely, even if the former was an overt clue.


    I exhaled in lieu of being able to grunt, and worked my way off of the mattress. To signal that I was alive, I tapped my gun on the wall three times.


    ¡°Is that a cry for help? Do you want me to come in?¡±


    Left hand clenched as I banged twice.


    ¡°Does¡­ two mean yes?¡±


    I paused, unsure as to what the best course of action would be. It felt as though she was looking for an excuse to come in, so I decided silence might win on this occasion.


    ¡°Shit, I¡¯m bad at this. I¡¯ll give you two minutes to put your panties on, otherwise I¡¯m kicking the door in - just in case you¡¯re hurt. Not because¡­ of the¡­ panties thing¡­¡±


    Her voice trailed off at the end there, so I decided that I hadn¡¯t heard anything past ¡®two minutes¡¯. My left side burned from the healing over wounds, and my stims granted me a small amount of relief. Still mad at me for how rough yesterday had been. I ejected the shell from the chamber and removed the drum.


    Only briefly considered sliding in a Sanguine stake. With the company I seemed to be keeping, it might be an idea to carry the rest on me at all times. Quickly switched over my cans, shaking my head out so the lethargy would go away. Over to the door, and I sighed deeply before opening up. The sun washed over me, only paling in brightness to the excessive smile on Roxy''s face.


    ¡°You¡¯re alive!¡± She beamed at me. Back in her hero outfit, hands holding something behind her back. ¡°Look like shit and smell twice as bad, though.¡±


    I returned a blank stare and considered going back to bed. I¡­ deserved better than this.


    ¡°League had me in for¡­ well, to give me a bit of a tongue lashing. It got late and they don¡¯t like me hopping across the city at night, so I stayed at a hotel.¡± She gestured over to her house. ¡°Have security cameras though, and was rather surprised when I checked them this morning.¡±


    I nodded, my own eyes going over to the pile of inert machinery covering seeds that would never bloom again.


    ¡°Honestly? Impressive as fuck.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°Like, you took down that mob group at the casino - but a villain and his gang out in the open¡­" She whistled. "Considering you¡¯re not a super yourself, that¡¯s pretty skillful. I watched the vids like¡­ three times over. They usually give medals for that kind of thing, but I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t care about that.¡±


    I gave her another nod - at least she read me correctly there.


    ¡°Sooo¡­ instead of that shit, and to thank you for saving my house, I got you a little something.¡± She brought the black box around from her back to present it. ¡°A bit of an olive branch too, since we¡¯re both shitheads, right?¡± Her grin was unflappable.


    To save me the awkwardness of trying to pry it open, she did the deed herself - it turned out she was capable of learning. Maybe unfair for me to think that. She was just earnestly thankful for my efforts last night.


    The reveal was presented before me, and I raised an eyebrow.


    A vocalizer, with the correct connectors to attach to me.


    I stood, frozen with indecision. As much as it would be a boon to my current existence, part of me wanted to shun it. Go without and stay detached from normal society as much as possible. Alone and efficient.


    ¡°Just think, you¡¯d finally be able to tell me to fuck off.¡± Her eyebrows bounced up and down.


    All things considered, I¡¯d just about reached the end of my patience with being talked at but being unable to respond. Everyone has their limits. It wasn¡¯t so that we could bond over coffee or I could breeze through my communication with Boss - I just needed to have the clarity of being understood fully.


    I had made the decision. With a sigh vibrating through my re-breather, I lifted up my hand to pull down my scarf.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve got quite a lot going on there.¡± Her playful grin turned to concentration. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m pretty bad at tech, and clumsy with my hands - but I¡¯ll give it a go.¡±


    Half of that was a lie, I was sure. She picked out exactly what my gun was previously, so she had some tech knowledge. This was also the right vocalizer for what I had in my neck - of which even I didn¡¯t know the version or parts numbers.


    I stood statuesque as she removed the slim device from the box and moved a little closer to reach. Tongue sticking out her mouth slightly, she affixed the pins into the port, and I tried not to look her directly in the face as she leaned into me to get a good view of what she was doing.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    With the connectors in, her fingers brushed against the back of my hair as her hand went around my neck. The main body of the vox clipped to my skin as if it were magnetized. Probably was. She took a step away from me and smiled, hands on hips, waiting in anticipation.


    After all this time, I could finally speak. My insides tensed up for what would be my first words in this life. I took one long breath before deciding what to say.


    [Fuck off.]


    Her eyes lit up. ¡°Nice! How does that feel?¡±


    [It feels like you are not fucking off.]


    ¡°Right? I¡¯m happy with the tone, though. I think it suits you.¡±


    Any disdain I had for the woman took a backseat to the fact that I could actually talk now. A gruff tone that had a slight robotic reverb at the end. It did, in fact, suit me. She seemed to ignore my spoken intention just as eagerly, even though I could put my thoughts into words now. Maybe just excited that I was no longer a wall for her to bounce her constant need for attention off of.


    Still, part of me was¡­ excited? Speaking was so alien to my current life, but seemed natural. It was an effort to remain calm and cordial and not spout off anything that came to mind.


    [You picked the voice yourself?]


    She nodded. ¡°They didn¡¯t exactly have an extensive catalogue, but¡­ yeah.¡±


    For as much as this gift felt more of a burden, or something mostly for her own benefit, I had to admit that I appreciated the thought put into it. If I were to have a voice, then this would be as close to what I imagined it to be. Might unplug it while working, though. I¡¯d hate to end up spouting one-liners and engaging in banter with¡­ well, I wasn¡¯t sure who.


    Everyone that would hear me, no doubt.


    During this time of contemplation, Roxy stood patiently, as if she was waiting for something. I gave her a nod, as that seemed enough to tie off whatever conversation we were having.


    ¡°Prick. This is the part where you say thanks. I assume you had a life with manners before you became¡­ this?¡± She crossed her arms, buckling herself in, ready to have a full-on conversation with me.


    [I do not remember any of my past.]


    She pulled a face. ¡°Oh. I¡¯m actually supposed to be on the clock, but how about in lieu of you showing some respect, we play a little game? Ask each other three questions?¡±


    I grunted. There were certain things I wanted to know about her, however shouting ¡®why¡¯ repeatedly probably wasn¡¯t how this sort of thing was played. As much as I wanted to go back to sleep and properly process the gift given to me, curiosity had me dancing to her tune.


    [You may ask, then. Ladies first.]


    A smirk came up at the side of her face and she crossed her arms. ¡°That¡¯s more like it. First question then¡­ you gave me a vague answer about being a mercenary - is that accurate?¡±


    [Hitman is perhaps closer to the actual reality of it, and to save you a further question - no, I do not target innocents.]


    She nodded slowly. ¡°Okay, your turn.¡±


    A remarkably good poker face, considering she usually had no filter. She¡¯d seen my handiwork, so there was no hiding that I was some manner of killer.


    [Why did you move your house next to mine?]


    Roxy rolled her eyes, as if that was such a banal question. ¡°Like I said before, I didn¡¯t know you were out here. That¡¯s kinda why you¡¯re out here, right? To be unknown. As to why¡­¡± She deflated slightly. ¡°League thinks I cause more trouble than I¡¯m worth. After almost landing on a school bus, this was the softer option compared to some of the others suggested.¡±


    Her eyes went over to linger on her house for a few seconds before returning to me. ¡°Freelance, or you work for someone? Organization or gang, etc?¡±


    [I am employed by an individual. That is the only detail I am able to give you.]


    ¡°That¡¯s fair. Those sorts of people like their privacy.¡±


    [My next question is¡­ why are you trying so hard to be a good neighbor to me?]


    Her mouth opened and closed before her face contorted into a grimace. ¡°I might look like a fiery tomboy who grew up on a farm and has more muscle than social graces, and that¡¯s because that''s exactly who I am.¡± She shrugged and looked out at the barren plains around us. ¡°Never been around much folk, but it¡¯s better to be tight with those closest, you know? Last night, for example.¡±


    I nodded slowly. It made some manner of sense, even if I didn¡¯t fully believe that was the true reason. There was a casual acceptance of what I was and had done that didn¡¯t sit comfortably, but I could trust her backstory for now.


    ¡°Last one for me. You know how to fight damn well. Did someone teach you?¡±


    [No. Surviving for five years doing my work was enough. Avoiding death is a constant lesson.]


    ¡°I¡¯ll say. It shocks me that you can bounce back from injuries so quickly.¡± She looked me up and down twice. ¡°Hit me with your last one then, big guy.¡±


    [Why was the wizard after you?]


    ¡°Comes with the territory.¡± She smiled. ¡°Bust enough criminals and villains start taking it personally. I¡¯m pretty sure I took down his business partner not long back. Absolute unit with one eye.¡± Her gaze drifted off as she recounted the details.


    I grunted. Something that had an actual audible tone to it now. Would definitely take some getting used to, although this short conversation had been rather draining already. Not as much as gesturing at her with hand signals, I supposed. I noticed that she was beaming at me again.


    ¡°I¡¯m real happy to finally hear you, Dubs. Somewhat relieved you¡¯re reasonably eloquent. I know a few other edgy lone wolf types who think monosyllabic responses are mysterious and powerful.¡±


    [Oh.]


    ¡°Ass! And I just used one of the few long words I knew.¡± She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn¡¯t falter. ¡°I¡¯ve really got to dash now, otherwise League will blow their top. I¡¯m¡­ this doesn¡¯t have to be a friendship, but I hope we can be cordial neighbors at least.¡±


    I looked down to see that she had a hand extended to be shaken. Her left one, even though I was reasonably sure her right was the dominant side. Either she had rustled up the effort to be more thoughtful over my gun-arm, or she had seen the trick I had pulled against the wizard and wasn¡¯t keen to be the repeat.


    ¡°Peace treaty?¡± she pestered.


    I returned the gesture, unsurprised that she had an incredibly firm handshake. The gleam in her eyes hinted that she was testing me, and that maybe I hadn¡¯t disappointed.


    [If we are to be assailed by your fan club, then it would be pragmatic to come to an agreement on shared defensive protocols. This must remain a place of safety and secrecy for us both together.]


    ¡°Easy, tiger.¡± She turned from me and started to walk away, keeping a side-eye on me. ¡°You¡¯ll make a girl blush.¡±


    I remained impassive, staring at her blankly.


    Once a good twenty feet away, she looked towards the city and crouched down. ¡°Oh,¡± she shot me a quick glance, ¡°I¡¯m for real about the bathing thing. It¡¯ll honestly change your life.¡±


    Before I had the wherewithal to give her a response, a blast of dust washed over me as a shockwave ran through my yard. The super launched into the air at an impossible height, arcing towards the built up area of Goldarch. Briefly, I imagined what I could do with such a leap. Would certainly make my entrances more dramatic.


    With a sigh, I returned to the safety of my home - and the inside of my head. Door shut and everything seemed so¡­ drab. The bright sunshine had clearly ruined my eyesight, so that the indoors maintained an odd hue to it. That was surely it.


    I stepped over and sat in the chair by my desk.


    Did nothing for possibly ten minutes as my brain sat idle, spooling back up. I had a voice now. Something I had been so keen to avoid for so long, but that now seemed so foolish. While the super was now slightly more tolerable, the more important use of such power was using my STAR.


    I prodded through to find the menu option to register voice commands. A few agonizing minutes of repeated presented phrases until it was satisfied it knew me. Considering it was embedded in my flesh, you¡¯d think it would be more cordial.


    [Send message to Boss.]


    The screen spooled up, bringing the waiting text field for me to fill. Where to begin?


    [Killed a villain who was attacking the super. She gifted me a vocalizer as thanks. Send.]


    That reminded me - between my exhaustion and the pestering hero, I had totally forgotten to check through the rest of what Boss had left for me at the drop-off.


    Hopefully nothing that I fucked with the EMP grenade.


    Two more stim packs, which I put away carefully. A case of eight nutrition cannisters¡­ these were a newer type. Be nice if they were better than the sediment ones. Two unused EMP grenades.


    Then finally, two unknown cases. I placed them side by side on my workbench.


    I didn¡¯t have the heart to think up a one-liner that I could now speak out loud.


    Instead, I popped the latches of both - and opened them at the same time.

 11 - Upgrade

    I sat at my workbench while the partially obscured sunlight streamed through the windows. Almost perfectly set to illuminate the two open cases in front of me. I wasn¡¯t sure what I had been expecting, really. Certainly not anything more than different ammo types. Perhaps I was being prepared for something.


    Left hand ached as it went forward to grasp at item number one. A reminder that I still had wounds to heal. From within soft casing, I plucked a small object. Circular, transparent, and thin. Just about the same size as the lenses in my goggles. Any patience already eroded before I¡¯d started the day proper - I moved the disc up to my eye without thought.


    Somewhat amused that it clicked into place over my right eye. Should have known that it was purpose-built. I frowned and looked around my house. A faint row of letters appeared at the bottom of my vision. No Threat, it assured me. I turned back to the case and raised an eyebrow. No message within, but I wondered if this had something to do with things heating up.


    If Boss was going to send me on contracts with variable stakes, I might need something to tell me how deep the shit was before I jumped in with both feet anyway.


    An upgrade that didn¡¯t need maintenance or filling with various vials - I welcomed it, but further testing would be necessary to see if it was useful or just a distraction to prickle me with future headaches. Generally when someone was a threat, I knew in short order.


    I went to examine what was behind door number two, before my STAR lit up with a message.


    Clearly I¡¯m not keeping you busy enough if you¡¯re getting into that much trouble. The super must be something special to have convinced you to speak. Don¡¯t lose sight of your role. Health report? Boss.


    Wasn¡¯t sure I was a fan of either of his insinuations. It wasn¡¯t like I asked to be invaded by a biker-wizard gang, and the reward was something pragmatic. I had gone silent for too long. I rolled my eyes. Just give me something to kill already.


    [Available for work tomorrow. Minor injuries. Send.]


    Rockslide had forced her way into my life, and although she didn¡¯t seem to be an immediate threat, I was cautious about her. Some things still weren¡¯t adding up - but my brain was still lagging and I shuffled any of those problems away. Worst she had threatened me with was a budding social life, something I paled at but wouldn¡¯t kill me. I hoped.


    Perfect. Another of my Agents has let me down. You were my first choice to pick up the pieces - message me when you¡¯re up for it. Boss.


    Hmm. The first confirmation of there being other Agents in all the time I''d known him. Or at least, there was one that was now dead. Things must be pretty dire if his lips loosened that much - but he couldn''t let his client down otherwise he''d lose face. I wasn¡¯t sure if he was trying to butter my wheels by saying I was next up to the chopping block¡­ but it worked.


    I was only human, after all. Took pride in completing my contracts and hadn''t done a disservice to Boss in these last five years. His flattery was almost enough to want me to say I was fine now, get the contract and start cracking skulls today.


    But rest was important. I pushed myself harder than I should already. There was no point dying just for extra credit.


    Plus, what I had said to the super was true. If she was going to continue living here, then we''d need some defenses against villains who wanted to take a shot at her. For my sanity''s sake, I required the vocalizer. Not that I had much in terms of functional assets to bring to the table - but perhaps the hoard of credits that had been accumulating dust could be of some use. Might have an alarm system in one of the crates...


    I shook the thoughts from my head.


    The second case had some kind of gadget that I couldn''t even guess at the function based on first appearance. A small chip with connecting wires affixed to a flat black plate of metal in a stubby L-shape. Could easily fit in the palm of my hand - so I lifted it up.


    Small spark of familiarity at the shape of the metal piece now that it was closer to me - my years of maintenance on my arm having me familiar with all the grooves and split sections. This would be to replace...


    Yes, here. I twisted my arm counter-clockwise to look at the right-hand side. The part of it that dealt with the V-Force power. Not something I often dug into other than to clean out the grime and ensure the connections were tight twice a year. I wondered what this could possibly be replacing.


    Placing it down on the workbench, I shook out the case to see if there was a note or anything else that might hint at the upgrades purpose. No. I flipped the switch on my spotlight and hovered it over the chip. Difficult to see with my tinted lenses, but there was something printed across it.


    VF_OVRCHG


    [Overcharge].


    I shuffled uncomfortably at hearing my voice bounce around the room. Although it felt like there was still something... disjointed about it. Only natural, I supposed, given that it wasn''t my actual vocal chords doing the talking.


    Wasn''t too sure what Overcharge meant, but I could fasten together enough of a guess to make it presentable. A controllable way of shuffling more V-Force than should be safe into a shot. What that actually meant in a tangible way would have to be something I''d test later.


    Case of tools slid out, and I dug out the necessary ones to unscrew and pop open the similarly shaped panel on my arm. New piece was a slightly darker shade of black, which might annoy me until it got worn in like the rest. The guts of the old part followed out, and I compared the wiring of the two before making any changes.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Same connectors, although one set of wires was thicker, and the chip was slightly longer. Switched the pins one at a time, and the deed was done. Plate back into place, clicked and screwed back in. Case back in place. Light off. Empty gift boxes in the corner of the room.


    Perhaps I should have a healthier attitude towards waste disposal.


    From my vocalizer, I let off an audible grunt. That was the problem with socialization. Now I had something poking at my brain, making me want to be more acceptable in the eyes of society. But could a killer like me ever be?


    I drummed my fingers on the edge of the workbench. Rest day. I needed to do maintenance on my arm. Reload my drum mag. Maybe give my bike a look over.


    Simple things to keep my mind at peace, so that I was focused once Boss sent me over the contract.


    And for as long as daylight let me, that''s what I did. Everything was well serviced and in good condition, fully stocked and prepared for my next contract. Outfit patched up. Wounds all but recovered. Dusk was settling over the world, and I was pretty ready for another long sleep. Hopefully, this one wouldn''t be interrupted by violence or the incessant pestering of the-


    A dull thud echoed around the room. She had returned. I waited at the edge of my mattress, ready to turn in, for the inevitable knock at my door.


    It didn''t come.


    So then I just felt rather silly for expecting it. An uncomfortable fuzz had started to form at the edges of my being, and I tried to brush it away mentally. Familiarity was a distraction and could lead to weakness. A cordial neighborship shouldn''t be deadly. I''d just have to be diligent about it.


    I laid down and settled in for an overdue and uninterrupted rest.


    Another dream... or rather, something close to one. As if emotive worms struggled to weave their ways through the thick mud inside my skull. Were these the fledgling feelings of my social life coming into bloom? Or perhaps aged memories of my prior life trying to find light or sustenance?


    Neither question found answer, as my eyes opened. Not to the sound of kicking at my door, or with criminals pestering my time of rest - but to the silence of a new day.


    Although, with the amber sunlight barely illuminating my palace, it seemed as though I must have been out for almost a full day.


    I rolled onto my back and groaned audibly, still slightly bemused that I could do that.


    [Message Boss. Recovered and ready for contract. Send.]


    As I deflated onto my mattress, I had to admit to myself that the vocalizer did make my life easier. Didn''t mean I was about to start spouting monologues wherever I went, but when necessary I''d make good use of the function. While I personally considered the eradication of the wizard to be a recompense for taking away the mob boss kill, I didn''t feel like I should be further indebted to the super just because the gift was especially well thought out.


    I stood from my place of slumber and started to prepare. Might have to go at a moment''s notice. Drum mag ready. Stims functional. I popped one of the newer nutritional cannisters in and was pleasantly surprised that it didn''t have the usual side effect of immediate lethargy.


    Sleeping like the dead had done wonders for my injuries, and there was barely a feeling at all where the skin had healed over. Hopefully I could make it out of my next contract with fewer wounds - but I doubted it. I wondered if the other Agents had it as difficult as I often did - or even if they worked solo. A small group of people like me would turn even the toughest contract into mincemeat.


    But the subtlety was important. Easier to dispose of one errant pawn than a group who could choose to stick together. My fingers ran idly down the length of my gun as I waited for a response.


    Oceanio Factory 3B. Assassinate target Dr. Ghalli. Recently signed off on restricted testing practices. Concerned party wants that stopped. Expect light firearms. Automated security bots are acceptable collateral. Target scheduled to be on site for next four hours. Don¡¯t let me down. Boss.


    Probably just took a long time to download the contract on this encrypted network - it wasn¡¯t like me to be so impatient. But now I knew the score. Not that I was anything close to the morality police, but generally restricted testing practices meant something inhumane. Oceanio Corp dealt with some cybernetics - but mostly medical or restorative things. Internal organs and disease immunity.


    At some point, I¡¯d sussed out that mine came from Brickwork, a company that mostly dealt in military contracts. Made sense on the surface of it. It was a gun-arm. How Boss got it and stuck it on my near-corpse five years ago wasn¡¯t something I questioned. Any guesswork had too many valid answers, and to dig into it further would put the trust Boss and I shared on thin ice.


    Some additions to my load out this evening.


    Drum mag with thirty standard shells. Two ten-mags with Tazer shells. Small pouch that held my three remaining Sanguine stakes. Medium pouch with the two EMP nades. Tool Kit. To finish off, I slipped a spare stim pack into a fold in the small pouch. I¡¯d keep two cans on the bike for after contract completion.


    The most prepared I¡¯d ever been - but I could feel that the stakes were higher. It wasn¡¯t just the fact that an Agent had already died on this contract and security was bound to be higher - there was something else in the air. A disturbance for my trajectory through life.


    I¡¯d save the poetry for later. Lights off, door open. Traps armed. A quick glance over at Roxy¡¯s house. Darkness. Perhaps she was working late again.


    I stepped over to where I left the bike, giving my dejected car a nod in passing. End of an era.


    Seeing as I didn''t have an audience - aside from the super''s security cameras - I leveled my gun-arm out to the endless plains of the wastes. Nothing in the chamber, my brain signaled to use Overcharge.


    A brief hum that vibrated through the barrel of my weapon, cresting in a brief second in a short blast. Muzzle flared with light blue as a near-invisible gust of pure force hummed out a good thirty or so feet before petering out. Around fist-sized, it looked perfect for punching people long distance even when I was changing mags. The slight hiss coming from the box of tech-magic on the side told me that there was a decent cooldown on it if I didn''t want to burst apart. Inert-metal-chunk-arm was much less impressive, especially if it took half of the rest of me with it.


    About time I received some accessories. And speaking of - it was time to get properly acquainted with my new mode of transport. The motorbike was a wide and heavy beast, something that the rather frail wizard would have looked comical riding. A deep, reflective black that had hints of purple to it. Four chrome exhausts shot up at the tail, the harsh shapes and sharp curves of the vehicle making it look like liquid violence given purpose. That''s how I liked my technology.


    I straddled my stolen steed. Ergonomically, it was a much better fit for me. Slightly awkward to ride with one hand, but perhaps I could alter it to fit my gun-arm when I next had the time.


    Flick of the switch and it roared into life. A noisy thing, fueled by the promise of the power it could grant me. A stark change to how the car answered my call.


    [Let¡¯s ride.]


    Oh, no. Ugh. Terrible. Intrusive thoughts had won out, and I regretted every syllable. Tempted right there to remove my vocalizer, but I wavered enough to forgive myself this once.


    I hit the pedal and rolled away, escaping the cloud of self-inflicted disappointment.


    Darkness would arrive soon, and death would sing a sorry tune that my shotgun was eager to make a duet.

 12 - Circuit Training

    Compared to the back alley establishments I¡¯d been kicking over, the Oceanio Group Factory was a veritable fortress. For good reason, too. The Othea World Government had a stake in their output, meaning I was potentially biting some rather important hands. Not that it should stop them feeding, though. Goldarch had a group of the factories, and their efforts spun across the continent, as far as I knew.


    The goal here was just to cut out a tumor that had the potential to poison the whole. There were clearly some with more level heads in the area if they wanted the man ousted for his potentially damaging or criminal practises. Level enough to hire a hitman, for whatever that was worth. Sometimes red tape just needed someone with a sharper pair of scissors to cut through.


    Under the cover of darkness, I flicked the engine off and rolled the bike into a side alley. Factory would be difficult enough to breach without sliding up to the front gates sounding like a dragon choking on a cluster bomb. If there was one nice thing I could say about my old beater, it was that it knew when to shut the hell up.


    On initial viewing, it didn''t seem to be that well guarded, considering one of my contemporaries had tried and failed to get at the target recently. Carpark was in front of the main factory building - an efficient if not imposing structure that was all sharp edges with no flourish. Their name across the front in neon green. Oceano Plus - the symbol affixed at the end to signify health and vitality. Well, for one person, it would be the opposite tonight.


    The large carpark had one entrance that was gated off - a single enclosed booth that held a human employee ready and willing to vet anyone going in or out. Bars that could be raised if necessary checks were met to allow vehicles in. Difficult to approach. Sometimes guards would be tired and bored at night, other times they''d be pumped with drugs or have some tech that kept them alert during working hours. Seemed cruel on the surface, but we each made credits the way that we were able.


    Not his fault he was the blockade to my entrance on this night, and I wasn''t about to put a slug through his head for the unlucky coincidence.


    The walls surrounding the factory were a good twenty feet tall and topped with both spikes and razor wire. Factories with connections to deep pockets like this one produced some expensive things, and the city had no lack of criminals or villains willing to risk it all to grab at something to give them an edge in life. Circling the compound led me to the back entrance, where the lorries or heavier transport would drop off or pick up materials. A thick metal gate barred this entryway, shuttered off even higher than the adjacent walls.


    Neither option seemed willing to allow me easy access. My aura that disabled cameras and phone signals was reasonably short range, so approaching the building from a distance would give them a heads up. Any loud noise would also draw attention in short order. I hadn''t been able to get a good angle to see how many cars remained in the carpark at this hour, but I assumed it would be a few working overtime and whatever security staff that had on tonight.


    It wasn¡¯t just warm bodies I¡¯d have to worry about, either. Part of the reason for the two mags of Tazer shells was for the likelihood of robotic opposition. Automatic sentries were common these days, and the Oceano Group wouldn¡¯t skimp on having some wherever they could. Especially with another Agent failing at some point. Target himself would have even more eyes on him.


    Quite the puzzle.


    Still, I had a reputation to uphold. Even if an edge lord with a shotgun-arm didn¡¯t seem like the best fit for such a covert operation. By instinct, I slunk into the shadow beside the building over as a vehicle approached. Crouched down and tried to blend in with the discarded boxes stacked up here to decay. Given my usual attire and apparent lack of hygiene, it wasn¡¯t too difficult to do.


    A large truck slowly hummed by. Something electric or otherwise powered, by the lack of overt noise it generated. Bright headlights scoured the street as it passed me.


    Goldarch City Waste Disposal.


    Wasn¡¯t like me to look a gift horse in the mouth. I skirted from my hiding place as it chugged slowly towards the corner of the factory wall. Given the speed, it looked to be automated rather than having an active driver. Pacing alongside to meet it, I tried to keep to the darker areas of the sidewalk. Most lights were dimmed at this point at night - at least in this district where business hours were long over.


    I looked around the corner, and the vehicle slowed to a stop beside a pair of dumpsters. Sensors scanned them and it began the process of extending prongs to fit the wide containers.


    It was time.


    My pace increased, and I withdrew an EMP grenade from my belt. After having some actual time to put my eyes over them, it turned out that they had a dial to determine how powerful the blast would be. Might have been nicer to know before I gave myself and the cop a headache, but we lived and learned. Twisted this one to the lowest setting.


    A quick flick of my wrist and it clattered across the ground and slid beneath the vehicle.


    Just as it burst, I was leaping atop the dumpsters. Turned and jumped towards the side of the vehicle. Gun-arm made climbing on top awkward, but thanks to a handy foothold on one of the sensors, I pushed myself up.


    Now for the less fun part.


    I tried not to think about it. A foolish action, in retrospect, most likely. Two steps back across the buckling metal plates of the top of the trash van, and then I hefted myself forward. The gap over the spikes and razor wire was trouble enough, but I had the confidence to clear it.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    It was the fall on the other side that had more risk to it. I hit the ground and rolled several times, pain flaring up my ankles. Continued the movement until I was up against the shadowed wall, flattening myself and holding my breath.


    The pain slowly abated as the stims gave me a hand. Nothing broken, but they¡¯d be complaining loudly tomorrow. Exhaled slowly, my re-breather rattling as one of the filters spun around. From back outside the compound, the hum of the vehicle started back up and it continued its movements as if nothing had happened.


    A short outage shouldn¡¯t worry their controllers back at base. They¡¯d blame it on finicky tech or, hells, perhaps they¡¯d even be sleeping through their watch.


    An alarm hadn¡¯t been raised at my current position, so I allowed myself to believe I was currently undetected. Congratulated myself for not verbalizing the pain of my landing even though I could do that now¡­ hmm. The thought of how often I got injured during a contract sloshed around in my mind. Hand went up, and I switched the vocalizer to the off position.


    Back up to my feet, I circled slowly to the back of the building, until I found it - a side door. Wouldn¡¯t do me very well to stroll through reception. Eyes darted to the side as movement flashed in my peripheral. Down near the corner, flashlights. Still quite far, but it put a timer on me gaining entry.


    I looked over the metal doorway that was preventing me access. Digital pad on the side that required a five-digit password and the swipe of a security card. I had neither. Back entrance to a factory, though¡­ I ran my finger down the seam on the hinge side. Not exactly well maintained. A quick scan of the floor and the amount of discarded smoking paraphernalia and slight discoloration of the tiles on the floor told me it saw a lot of use. Maybe even propped open during the day, especially in warmer weather.


    Hand to my toolkit, I brought out a small tube. Paste that I allowed it to excrete down on the hinges. Something akin to plastic explosives, but more like a decay accelerant. A quick spray to activate it from a similarly sized bottle and the soft fizzing noise was the only thing that matched the rising sound of my heart in my head.


    Glanced over to my peripheral and something had moved around the corner now. An automaton that was slowly making its way toward my direction. My new goggle lense switched from the pale No Threat to a solid number. Five. Not sure what that meant at present, and didn¡¯t care to find out.


    I pressed my weight into the door, not only to hide my silhouette, but to pry the door open. The magic stuff only worked if the metal had seen enough wear and tear already, otherwise I''d just be a sitting duck.


    As the stomping sound of robotic feet grew in volume, the door started to move. Sliding slowly away from the opposite side intended, I gradually bent it until I could squeeze through - the previous bindings keeping it in placed rusted and near melting away. Any alarm or lock remained in place, and I was careful not to break or trip them by being rough. Once in the darkness of the interior, I pressed the broken barricade back into place. A third tool - a welding device - quickly held the door in position visually, even if it would no longer be functional.


    Might need to escape this way.


    I held steady, frozen, as the footsteps of the robotic guard neared. Held my breath, gun-arm up just in case. A few seconds where it felt as though it was just stomping up and down in front of my position¡­ before the sound started to fade.


    Inside the perimeter, and now inside the factory itself. Too early for fireworks.


    I caught the normal shell as I ejected it, to replace back in the drum. Swapped to a Tazer mag. Good for innocents and automatons alike. Drum could come back out to play once I¡¯d screwed everything up and had to blast my way out.


    Seemed I was in a stairwell. The air here had an odd tinge to it. Like metal shavings, or the off-cuts of what was being processed down at this level. No lighting where I stood, but I could see the plain brickwork had its fair share of dust and grime that had been collected over years. A doorway slightly further past the stairs probably went out onto the factory floor.


    My target was a researcher, so would be in the higher floors. I took to the stairs, my ankles only protesting a little. Perhaps I should have given a little more thought about how I would also escape this place.


    Up to the next floor, and I was greeted by a dim light highlighting a handy board telling me what was on each level of the factory.


    Ground floor was the factory proper. Processing. The door to my side led to Finishing and Packaging. Next one up was Offices and Staff areas. Top floor was Research Department and Management Offices.


    Looked like I had a few more stairs to climb. I looked at the security camera that was giving me a blank stare. Automatons weren¡¯t great with steps, so I should be able to get to the top floor without issue. A glance at the stairs leading up and I was glad I had switched my vocalizer off.


    I wondered what Roxy would think of this contract, and then wondered why that thought had even entered my mind. While she didn¡¯t seem to be a paragon of virtue, with her so close at home, it felt as though I was under more scrutiny in my work. Yeah, that was probably it.


    Every two sets of stairs there was a door leading to the next floor. Small grated window in each, which I cautiously avoided. Started to question how my predecessor here had died. Probably a mistake to even think out into the world. Now I¡¯d find out.


    As I ascended to the top floor, I noted that it was better lit. Someone was home. I doubted they used this back entrance - it seemed to be something more like a fire exit than anything useful, especially for the suits up top.


    Research Department & Management.


    Top floor, but there was a further staircase that went up to the roof. Part of me pegged that as a potential avenue of retreat, although my ankles thought me foolhardy.


    Door ahead of me was almost a mirror of the one leading into the factory. Keypad and somewhere to swipe a card. No window, but a sign across it that said Employees Only.


    What had me frozen in place, however, was the fact that the door was already open slightly.


    Ajar barely an inch. Someone had¡­ been careless in closing it properly? As much as I knew how sloppy people could be, it irked me. Drew the hairs up on the back of my neck where my vocalizer was affixed.


    Luck was something to be wary of.


    I stepped forward up to it and listened.


    A slight hum that was possibly computers in the distance. Otherwise, nothing truly notable. No voices or the clanking of automatons. Suspicious.


    My left hand went up and rested against the handle, part of me expecting to get an electric shock or set an alarm of just with the brief contact.


    Nothing changed, other than my rising heartbeat and the rhythmic breathing through my filters. Stims allowed me a brief wash of nanites to calm me. There, I was ready now.


    It was time.


    I pushed the door forward, ready to bring my gun-arm up.


    There was an almost immediate clang, as the door moved two inches before striking something metallic. My right eye twitched.


    Red light bloomed and washed around the corridor beyond, as the automaton standing guard in front of the door woke up and turned to see what had jostled it.


    Threat Level 8, my lense told me.

 13 - Under Pressure

    I¡¯d always been more of a crowbar when it came to breaking and entering. Despite my aura disabling some electronics, I didn¡¯t have the finesse, technology, or patience for the more covert operations. Scanners, miniature cameras, drones¡­ all things possible, but not my style. Brute force with the element of surprise had been enough to tick every box on my violent to-do list up until this point.


    Of course, while the automaton turned to meet me, I started to reconsider my haphazard approach to these things. Not for long, though - as I had to act.


    No point retreating at this stage. I was all in. Gun barrel through the brief opening, I hit the machine with a pulse of electricity from the Tazer shot. It stumbled forward as it struggled to control its legs, allowing me to push the door open wide enough to gain entry.


    I knew the type of bot rather well. Not the cheapest, which explained why it hadn¡¯t collapsed into a pile of scrap. Safety mechanisms to defend against this very scenario. The nickname for these guys was ¡®Shredder¡¯, not just because of the high rate-of-fire machine gun on the left side of its torso. They weren¡¯t exactly built to be gentle with their right hand either - which, although set up to look humanoid, had a nasty habit of de-gloving those they tried to restrain.


    Any irony in it being almost a mirror of me was ignored.


    Shredders had a weakness, right in the kidney area. I stepped forward, an empty shell clattering the floor as the end of my arm prodded the bot in the lower back. A second shot that blew out ceramic plating and a handful of shattered circuitry. The red light that had originally tried to seek me out flickered before going inert, as the automaton deflated like a balloon.


    No rest for the wicked. I stepped past and into a darkened side room. Crouched down and pushed the door to.


    Another red light washed over the corridor from the other end soon after. Sound of footsteps, slow and methodical. Mechanical.


    ¡°Unit 9-B detected. Possible malfunction. Investigating.¡±


    The crimson beam changed to a light green and started to sweep vertically across the dead bot. Only a matter of time before they clocked the empty shotgun shells and raised the alarm. The more noise I made, the more attention I¡¯d get¡­ so I was just delaying the inevitable, anyway.


    Better to act now and try my luck. Up to my feet, I emerged from the shadows and into the corridor. This bot was only a couple of feet from the inert one, about to determine that foul play was afoot. Another Shredder. Another kidney shot with the Tazer breaking out their important parts.


    Even before it had the chance to clatter to the carpet, a hiss reverberated around a tannoy system.


    ¡°Floor lockdown in process. Please remain in place until security has given the all clear.¡±


    An automated system that must have kicked in when two of the bots went out of action. Pretty smart on the surface, but I wondered if that just meant everyone on this floor now had no escape.


    To further my line of thinking, the door I had entered from hummed with power as a metal shutter descended from the ceiling. Thick, segmented plates that would probably shrug off my normal shells like they were party poppers.


    I ran Overcharge down my arm and blasted the reinforced doorframe with the empty Tazer shell. A burst of powdered brickwork from the impact spun around in the air with the dissipating force. Whatever metal supports within the masonry were now bent and buckled. The lowering blockade stopped and squealed about halfway down, frustrated it couldn''t complete its job. A red light bloomed over the entrance to signal any passing engineer that more shit was fucked. Theme of the evening, no doubt.


    Not exactly much space for me to squeeze through, but complications opened other avenues of success.


    My eyes turned down to the corridor, where there were two darkened rooms on the right before it turned off to the left. A potted plant sat in the corner there, looking like it wanted no part of what I had planned. No Threat.


    Racked a new shell in and made my way forward. Seventeen Tazer shots left. Should be plenty enough before I''d have to be careful.


    My left hand idly tapped at the pouch containing the Sanguine ammo. Something about this place had me on edge, and it wasn''t just it being a higher stakes contract. A few Shredders were one thing, but there were a lot worse things out there.


    Feet took me to the corner, and I peered around. A wide room that looked partially like it was for recreation. Water cooler, vending machines powered down, an oval table in the center with a modest number of chairs surrounding it. Dimly lit and quiet except for the humming of idle technology.


    I stepped inside, immediately clocking the man on the right who had been keeping out of sight, trying to obscure the door out of here.


    "Hands-" he began, before I shot him in the shin. Threat Level 4.


    He shook and dropped whatever he was holding. I stepped forward to grab him by the shirt before he could crack his head open on whatever furniture was closest, and sat him down on a chair. He¡¯d stay dazed for five minutes or so before his senses would slowly return.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Repeated exposure wasn¡¯t good for the brain, but neither was me clocking him around the head with my arm to knock him out. The wooden door out of this room hadn¡¯t shuttered, so the metal panels must only be for exits and possibly the more important places - especially if the heads of the factory worked up here.


    I kneeled down to pluck up the guard¡¯s item. Screen was cracked now, but still readable. Gave a handy list of all the protection up on this floor - although not where they were located. Five humanoid guards. Four Shredders, two of which were now disabled. Two Sentries, two Pythons, and one unknown entity that had no designation.


    Sentries were simple enough. Less automaton-like and more of a static weapons platform powered by AI. Usually stuck in places with a lot of foot traffic, or in front of a security-sensitive location. They¡¯d be on alert now, and I¡¯d earn their full ire once spotted.


    Pythons were almost the opposite in design. A synthetic construct that was more of a living lasso or bola than anything else. All in all, a lot of defensive measures for some offices atop a factory. Now that they knew I was here, I needn¡¯t be too shy about my intentions.


    I paused at the doorway. Having a map or building layout would have been helpful. Perhaps I was outgrowing my do-or-die method of approaching contracts. I needed some way of regularly accessing tech upgrades and city information. Thoughts idly circled around my neighbor before I dismissed them. Two guards required my attention. Could hear them shifting into place uncomfortably beyond these thin walls.


    Heavy boot burst the simple wooden door outward, but I remained in place. A pair of pistols blew a couple of holes in the innocent barricade before I leveled my arm around the corner. One pop and I tilted my head briefly past the doorframe. The closest guard had dropped, some of the armor around his stomach shredded, but the one a little further down the corridor had taken cover.


    Shell ejected as he leaned back around and fired another salvo of three shots. The last bullet ricochet from my gun-arm, while the others made further viewing holes in the unlucky door behind me. Better not have made a dent. As he ducked behind his corner, I strode out. It was a basic pistol, standard issue for people in his line of work. Compact, with only six shots. He had wasted them and now had to reload.


    I could almost hear his panic, as he didn¡¯t seem to perform well under pressure. The scratches of mag not going into the grip. Slight clatter as his hands shook, hearing me approach. An audible gasp as he thought he had managed it just in time before I could reach him.


    My Tazer shot blew into the calf that was half hanging out from his cover. Sloppy work on his part. Hard to see how the other Agent died here. Of course, that was all on what Boss had told me - not that I doubted him. The guard didn¡¯t have much of use on him, but I propped him up in a sitting position so that he wouldn¡¯t choke on his own drool.


    Four shots left in this mag - I chambered a shell and then switched it for the full one. At least until I had met the other two humanoids, I¡¯d play it safe. After they were out of the picture, then I just had destruction on my mind. The unknown security force was playing on my nerves, but there wasn¡¯t much I could do right now.


    Two empty offices along this way, before it ended at two doorways. One to the right labeled ¡®Management¡¯, and then the one in front of me had been shuttered off with metal. Intuition told me that the protected direction was more likely to house my target. The sign above the door that said ¡®Research¡¯ helped as well.


    I went back to the last guard and dug around in his pockets. Keycard acquired. I pulled out a similar device as to what the first man had dropped. On the back was a sticky note with a five-digit number written down. No matter what you prepared, you could never count on the integrity of the human mind. Or the¡­ orcish mind, as the case might be in this circumstance.


    Probably would have thanked his unconscious body if I had my vocalizer in, so I was immediately glad that I had disconnected it. While stealth wasn¡¯t necessarily one of my strong suits, knowing when to shut up had done me well over the years.


    Back to the door and a swipe and mash of buttons later, and the slatted panels of the metal covering started to return to the ceiling. Despite my ability, I still felt as though I was being watched. Maybe it was just because I was waiting for the door to allow me entry, but I was on edge.


    My brow furrowed, and I spun around, dropping to one knee with my arm level. Decent reflexes, but slightly too slow.


    A Python, who had snuck out of one of the side rooms. Leaped through the air like a coiled spring as soon as I had clocked it. Semi-transparent, the rubbery tube was full of segmented metallic parts. The head end was already coiling around my extended gun-arm before I had the chance to fire. Too close now.


    Before it had the chance to snake down me to my torso, I launched from my position and slammed into the side of the corridor. The plasterboard and wood crumbled, leaving a long indent where I had attempted to crush the Python against the wall. It was a hardy construct, though, and it did little but briefly slow its movements.


    Enough for me. I twisted, dragging the loose end of its body away so that it couldn¡¯t push up onto me. As it went to relax back down, I brought my boot down on the end of the tail, pinning it to the floor.


    Gun-arm shook as the bot tightened up, constricting what it had been able to grasp before moving further. There was a strength to it that surprised me briefly. Shoulder joint started to ache as it was pulling my arm lower to the ground. Only a matter of time before it escaped the pressure of my boot. Terrible angle to get a shot at it as well. EMP grenade might help but would put me in too much danger.


    I made the mental note to invest in a knife.


    If it got around my neck, I¡¯d be done for. While choking was less of a threat compared to if I had the normal biological parts, having my stims and cannister shatter would be detrimental to my well being.


    Threat Level 12.


    Yeah, thanks. My knees started to buckle, unable to hold the pressure. Expressionless Python continued to wind together like a tightening spring. The whirr of the many motors and moving components strained against my reluctance to be constricted.


    Muzzle pressed against the carpet, giving me some leverage, but unable to use my built-in weapon. Perhaps I knew now how easily the other Agent might have died.


    Murmured voices sounded from the other side of the door. The two guards now wondering why it had been unlocked but nobody had come through. They might even have a notification on their device that told them the Python had something.


    My eyes went up to the wall fifteen feet back down the corridor. A small vent flap popped open, and the second Python stuck its head out. Called in by the struggles of its brethren.


    Stims washed through me, giving my muscles a needed second wind.


    Fighting against the grip of the synthetic snake, I gradually raised the muzzle of my gun-arm from the floor. Arm shook with every millimeter gradually gained. Second Python slithered from the crawl space. My left hand patted around my belt for the toolkit. The low voices were closer to the door now, arguing about whether they should open it or not.


    Muscles burned as I fought against the situation I was slowly sinking into.


    V-Force hummed and powered up in my arm. Now they''d made me angry.

 14 - Healthy Living

    This was quite the pickle. Gun-arm restrained to the floor while a second Python was on its way to get the rest of me. Two guards in the hallway that were only dazed for a couple more minutes. Another pair behind the door that my back was turned to, about ready to commit to opening up and seeing what was going on.


    All things told, it was probably one of the top five worst situations I¡¯d been in. This year, at least. Ignoring the two times that I had almost died and once where I¡¯d gotten knocked out but fallen somewhere that my targets couldn¡¯t find me. They¡¯d thought I had risen from the grave to get revenge. Amusing in retrospect.


    Still, I should probably focus on the task at hand. Or more accurately, on my gun-arm.


    Stims fueled my strength. I rose gradually, able to slightly maneuver my barrel over the length of the synthetic snake. Left hand brushed past my tool pouch to slide out a normal shell from the top of my drum. I stopped protesting so hard, and the muzzle sunk back down to jab into the body of the Python.


    Tazor shot powered through it. Didn¡¯t go loose, but stopped trying to wind me in and I could move my arm. My leg took some of the brunt of the electrical power and felt numb. Chamber open, I slotted the normal cartridge in as Overcharge powered up.


    Second Python coiled up, ready to leap. Click. The V-Force powered the blast straight through it and into the floor. Shredded skin and malfunctioning parts. Replaced the cartridge and hit it with a Tazer to be sure. Foot removed from the first, I grabbed it up off the carpet.


    Door opened with a hiss. My gun-arm still hummed from the ejected power, needing to cool off. The head of the held Python zipped forward as I used it as a whip, clocking the first guard in the head and knocking him out. Second guard opened fire as I stomped forward to barrel into him. Dropped him to the floor with the charge. Lashed into his arm with my gun, disarming the pistol that clattered to the floor.


    He tried to get back up, but I administered a swift kick to his head, putting him out. A little rougher than I had wanted to be, but I¡¯d made it through the situation without¡­


    I looked up to the end of the room, where a Shredder was now entering. I didn¡¯t get the chance to hide before the laser scan emitted from its singular red eye washed over me. A whirr as the machine-gun on its arm spun up.


    Cursing only in the safety of my own head, I dove to the side and rolled - awkwardly with how my leg was still reeling from the self-inflicted Tazer. Plasterboard from the drably painted wall burst out in a rough row as bullets struck it. I scrabbled behind a table, the computer monitor and tower sparking out as they were then fired upon.


    ¡°Armed intruder detected. All available security personnel to Office Suite C.¡±


    The tannoy hissed away as it relayed the message. Well, that was me cooked then. Beneath the table I fired off a Tazer shot, striking the Shredder in the lower legs. Enough to cause it to halt the hail of bullets, even if not stop it outright.


    A brief reprieve I took full advantage of. I leaped from my position and slid across the desk, knocking keyboards and files of paperwork to the floor alongside the Tazer mag bouncing across the carpet. Drum mag clicked into place and the first shell racked into the chamber.


    It left that place of snuggled safety almost immediately. Ceramic plates shattered and dropped to the floor as I repeated the action twice, and then a third time. Enough of the internal electronics were damaged to the point that the automaton just stood there in place, staring at the floor, looking lost.


    First, I strode over past the sleeping guards and used the keycard to shut the door behind me. Didn¡¯t want the Pythons after me anytime soon. Even if they still functioned, they¡¯d struggle to get through the small tunnels through the walls now. Next was retrieving my Tazer mag. Topped it up from the near-empty one before putting it back on my belt.


    One Shredder and two Sentries remained. Plus the mystery guest. Stims rushed back through me as I realized I had taken a couple of shots to the torso. Lower ribs that managed to miss my lungs, and up near my left shoulder. At least they were using conventional munitions. I briefly considered if bringing my shrapnel remover along on contracts might be worth the effort. If I could pop out the bullets now, then the stims wouldn¡¯t need to heal over and then be opened up again once I got home.


    I decided it would be a good idea to go over all of my operating procedures, assuming I survived this contract. Too long had I been working with bad habits and the bare minimum. If I was one of Boss¡¯ most dependable Agents, then imagine what I could be if I put more effort into the job.


    Not sure where this sudden change of heart came from.


    Two exits from this room and a side office that was dark. While my target could be easily hiding out in one of these smaller rooms of shadow, I highly doubted it. It just wasn''t the style - once you got to this level of ego and hubris, you started leaning heavily into clich¨¦s. He''d be in the most defended area, twirling a mustache as he felt his practices were beyond reproach, and it was just prudish society that needed to catch up.


    Would have to see if he changed his mind once I caught up to him. I stooped down by one of the guards to take his gun. Although I wasn''t ambidextrous - so left-hand aim was poor - it might still come in handy. Need to give my other hand something to do other than soak up bullets. I''d much rather steal the Shredder''s machine gun, but it was electronically controlled.


    That left little for me to do but choose a door. I chose the closed right side. Heavy boot conducted the opening ceremony, almost springing the unsuspecting barrier off its hinges. My choice was rewarded by a slim room that looked like it was used as a security checkpoint, before another shuttered exit was at the other end.


    Research - Restricted Area.


    I had a knack for turning up where I was least wanted, so the trail must be getting warmer. Roxy was similarly cursed, and I wondered if her opponents felt the same way when she turned up.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Speaking of supers... There was a non-zero chance that a hero or law enforcement would have been informed by now. Oceano Group had connections out of the ass, so even a rogue researcher might be able to call in the cavalry. Boss sure knew how to pick them - the rewards for this one better be worth it. I had gotten lucky with the wizard villain, and didn¡¯t fancy my chances up against anyone more competent.


    Over to the keypad and I swiped the card before inputting four of the five digits. Having one code for the whole floor wasn¡¯t too out of the ordinary¡­ but to not have disabled the code, or refreshed to a different one once lockdown had started... it seemed like a mistake on their part. Unless I was being allowed to go this far for a reason.


    I glanced back at the open doorway and dim office lights beyond. Didn¡¯t feel like I was being pursued or watched, but my nerves were still acting up. Unsurprising, really - when I had aching gunshot wounds and almost had my cyborg arm torn off by a faux snake. Deep within the bowels of an unknown place with no backup - not that I¡¯d ever had backup.


    Clearly I was a little out of sorts. Shook those thoughts away and hit the final button. Door started opening, and I brought out the stolen pistol once more. Asking for trouble, really, since I was sure the cops would have started putting together a collection of my fingers prints over the years. Boss had assured me my past life had been scrubbed from all records. I was a ghost in the system. Someone who didn¡¯t exist.


    But I¡¯d left my mark around the city. Maybe it was having a slight, tenuous connection to another soul that reminded me I was living on borrowed time.


    The metal door slid away, and I readied my boot for my next grand entrance. Definitely warmer now. I could tell when a target was just at the edges of my barrel.


    Kicked open the door and rolled into the room, both guns up as I righted into a crouch.


    A square room. Double-doors to the left and right, as well as straight ahead. Rather than simple wood, they were metal and looked more like an air-lock than something office adjacent. Clearly, the research labs. Good news being that this was the likely place for the target to be hiding out.


    Bad news was that I had also found the two Sentries. Standing guard at the sides of the door in front of me.


    They both turned to greet me, each having solitary red eyes like a cyclops. A scan that was done in a near instant. Their determination? I was a threat. They were correct.


    Threat Level 15. I¡¯m sure those in the know would argue the specs until your ears bled, but they were basically twice the firepower of a Shredder, despite their apparent threat levels being close.


    Normal shot struck the one on the right, an arc of electricity causing the glowing red light to blink on and off. I must have gotten lucky and struck a weak point.


    Left hand went up to take potshots at the second one, just as it spun up and opened fire. Sparks and clangs rang out as I turned to take the brunt of the volley with my gun-arm.


    It didn¡¯t make for a good shield. Stims flooded through me.


    Then there was a flash. Pistol lay on the ground amidst splatters of my own blood. Head rang like crazy, pain shuddering up and down my whole body. Gun-arm slunk lax from its raised position.


    I really needed to stop EMP-ing myself. With a sigh that rattled the filters in my re-breather, I rubbed at my head. Just managed to get that breath out despite my faltering tech. The brief massage did little to put the looming headache on hold, and only smeared blood across my forehead. Wasn''t often that I got to be under closer-range machine gun fire without cover. Didn¡¯t much care for it.


    Blood soaked through my many layers of green cloth and dripped to the floor. I shuffled my way up to the first Sentry. Would check injuries after I got out of here safely, but felt like at least half a dozen additional bullet wounds. If I was lucky, I wouldn¡¯t collapse from blood loss before getting back to my bike.


    Gun-arm pulled back, I then lashed it forward into the machine. Broken ceramic and metal plates, its guts now exposed. With my bloody left hand, I reached in and pulled at whatever I could grasp. The pulsing red light flickered off and the whirring hum it was generating silenced. Dropped the handful of wires and circuitry and shuffled over close to the second one to repeat the same actions.


    They needed to build them with thicker armor on the front - but then again, these didn¡¯t look to be military spec. Commercial grade. More of a deterrent than a machine built for prolonged conflict. There was still a living Shredder somewhere on this floor, but I didn¡¯t care to seek it out. It missed its chance to get blown to shreds.


    All things told, I didn¡¯t care for much other than completing my contract and getting some sleep, actually.


    A couple of clicks and a hum from the complaining V-force drive, and my tech was functional enough once more. Took a deep breath clear of any obstruction. Some fresh air would be nicer, but I wasn¡¯t in a position to complain. Checked the chamber to ensure it was loaded. Yep. Hand grabbed at the bar across the door, leaving a slick streak of crimson as I pushed it open.


    There was a hiss of controlled air as it split and opened up. Blue light washed over me, the lab inside barely lit by dimmed side lights and idle monitors and screens all in a similar hue. Five rows of dark tables with computers and other types of equipment I wasn¡¯t familiar with. At the end of the room was a raised area that led to a side office on the right.


    I wasn¡¯t a gambling man, but-


    ¡°Ah, you actually made it.¡±


    Muscles tensed up, which just caused a fresh wave of stims to flood me so I couldn¡¯t feel my complaining body scream out. Gun-arm up.


    ¡°Such a shame you were sent here on false pretenses.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes. The voice was roving, as if was filling and swirling the room. I waited, statuesque, for any sorts of movement.


    ¡°Do you care to know the truth? Of why you were sent here? Of¡­ who sent you here?¡±


    The door to the office clicked - unlocked.


    ¡°Things don¡¯t have to be this way. I can help you. All I ask is that you listen.¡±


    A figure stepped out onto the raised area. The good doctor himself, in a smart pastel-blue research uniform. Head high in the air, it wasn¡¯t hard to see that he was an elf based on his body language alone, regardless of the pointed ears or energetic eyes, despite being in his middle ages. Hands clasped behind his back, he turned to me and smiled.


    Click. Painted the back wall with the insides of his skull.


    Aching legs took me around the tables to get closer, and I racked another shell to put through his chest.


    Probably the fifth person in the last couple of years to promise me answers and an escape from this way of life. Words didn¡¯t matter to me, and I liked my job. Perhaps not the part where I turned into a target dummy and half died every few days¡­ but it was a busy season.


    Despite being against my usual protocol, I stepped past the dead doctor and entered his office. More soft browns than bright blues, as the furniture and upholstery determined this was probably his home away from home. Over to his desk where he¡¯d left his computer open.


    It was currently uploading several folders of data, using a slow, encrypted network like my own. I jostled the mouse, dripping blood across his desk, and opened up a couple of the folders.


    Closed them down.


    Tore the cables from the back of the computer, before putting a shot through the tower.


    Rolling my head around on my neck, I stepped back out into the lab. Needed to get out of here, before I passed out or was found by¡­


    The sound of clapping drew my eyes to the door.


    A man lowered his hands and drew a bright silver sword from his belt. Something strange enough at the outset. He wore a smirk across his face beneath an eye-mask of deep blue with white lines - something that matched his skin-tight spandex suit. Designed to resemble chain-mail, maybe.


    ¡°Looks like thanks are due, friend.¡± His shit-eating grin widened as he pushed himself away from the door frame, his empty hand running through messy brown hair. ¡°It''s not everyday someone comes along and does the job for you.¡±


    Threat Level 40, my eye interjected.

 15 - Survivorship Bias

    I froze in place, briefly confused at this person now standing before me. How high his threat level was. What a smug asshole he looked. Safe to say he had some powers, given his confidence and ridiculous attire. Jury was out on whose side he was on, and I was less keen on getting my head pulped in by accidentally attacking one of the League''s goons.


    It would be a reasonable assumption to pin him as the unknown security entity for the place, which led to an explosion of other questions. Why he hadn¡¯t stopped me, for one - he seemed to be insinuating that he intended to off the doctor himself, so was he double-crossing them?


    ¡°You seem confused.¡± He tilted his head as he idly twirled his glowing sword around. ¡°Cat got your tongue, big guy? Or are you succumbing to those nasty injuries?¡±


    I deflated and pointed at my neck.


    He returned a shrug. ¡°What does that mean? Guiding my blade already?¡±


    Actual threats of harm were something I didn¡¯t much care for. If he was with the League, I¡¯d have to subdue him and escape. Unfortunately, plenty of supers were assholes, so I couldn¡¯t paint him with a villainous label just because of his smarm and desire to kill a hitman. I was far from any exits, however, and if my eye tech was accurate, then getting the man to do anything but cut me in half with a smirk across his face seemed like an uphill battle.


    Especially with my reduced gear and current injuries. Perhaps I¡¯d allow my mind to turn into useless mulch and hope that he was going to let me go free.


    ¡°Just scared then? I get it. Probably wondering why the doctor hired someone like me to guard him¡­ and then I just sat on my hands and twiddled my thumbs until you came along.¡± He scoffed. ¡°Even got rid of the last automaton for you.¡±


    As much as I struggled to imagine what he was doing with his hands, it seemed as though he was the insufferable talkative type. Needing to fill the silence, I was sure if I gave him all the air in the room, he would use it to tell me how smart and savvy he was to get on top. It was pretty clear to me that he wanted to steal the doctor¡¯s research data for himself, but keep his own hands clean.


    Usually I¡¯d end a monologue prematurely by sticking enough lead through the offending mouth, but I was waiting for him to tell me his affiliation so that I might do the deed guilt free. Or at least die trying. I made the show of seeming confused and overwhelmed. Not a difficult task when I was getting close to passing out.


    ¡°Imagine this - the doctor coming to my organization and hiring me, only for me to take the money and use it to put out a contract on him. Then I could steal the data for myself. While most in Goldarch would pale at his ideas, down in J¡¯rool he¡¯d be hailed as a paragon.¡±


    Only now he was a pile of inert fleshy parts leaking his lost vitality around my boots. I wasn¡¯t even sure if Boss would be pissed at the set-up. Maybe for the loss of the other Agent - but otherwise he got paid, and the contract had been completed.


    Me, on the other hand, I was fucking furious.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame the first guy they sent me didn¡¯t make the cut. You could say he¡­ lost his head after a run in with a Python.¡± The man grinned. ¡°It was enough for the doc to green light a second one as well as the Shredders. Good thing too, as you were clearly tougher.¡±


    Perhaps I was. Or just lucky. I doubted that all other Agents were cyborgs like me, so my advantage in having the stims as a crutch might not be universal. I didn¡¯t really have any information to base that assumption on - the other Agents could all be gnomic bards for all I knew.


    ¡°But look at me standing here having a monologue. You¡¯re clearly tired and looking for a way out.¡± He stepped to the side and gestured for me to leave. ¡°That¡¯s the trouble with us villains, we-¡±


    I fired my shotgun. Question now answered, I threw nails across our coffins to see who had the most determined hammer to finalize this.


    He flashed with blue light as his sword flickered around to deflect most of my shot. I¡¯d already leaped from the raised platform and tried to lower myself behind the closest tables.


    ¡°Asshole. So eager to die.¡±


    The thrum of energy waved across the room and a bright light ran across the thick table to my side. With a burst, it split apart, his sword attack fracturing the furniture. Lab equipment dropped to the scorched floor alongside my empty shell. I sprung up and leveled my arm at him before he had a chance to- oh, he was quick.


    Sparks ran along my gun as it slashed across and caught my left arm. Already, he was turning to follow up with a spinning attack. With his eyes blazing blue energy, I was tired of this match-up already. Braced my shotgun with my lagging left arm and absorbed the strike, stumbling back into the raised platform. Let off my shot. Didn¡¯t hit him.


    The unnamed villain jumped into the air and darted down, pale blue streaking behind him. Narrowly missed my neck as it pierced me through near my collarbone and then dug into the scenery behind me. Another shot, and he moved away just in time.


    I was slowing - I couldn¡¯t deny that. Despite enduring all sorts of injuries as part of my job, I wasn¡¯t superhuman. Blood was running low. Pain edged at my senses where even my adrenaline couldn¡¯t hide it away. Even my gun-arm wasn¡¯t snapping at my target as quickly as it should. Losing battle? They all were, up to a point.


    Metal rang out as I tried to defend against another flurry of blows. His smarm and overconfidence had gone, and determined focus had taken control. Cold and capable killer - or perhaps the streaks of black across his suit where I had barely scratched him was an affront to his ego.


    A slash to my forehead made me thankful for my goggles, otherwise I¡¯d be blinded in short order from the running blood. A shot, and then a quick second. No damage to him. Left arm was really struggling to do much now.


    Now he grinned. ¡°To come so far, and you can¡¯t even hit me. Pitiful!¡± He jabbed forward and caught me through the stomach.


    Not too deep, but as the sharp shock of it fizzed away, an uncomfortable, dull sickness took hold. Almost made it a shame that I took out my vocalizer. Didn¡¯t have a good one liner for the next part, but a brief explanation before it was too late would have suited, too.


    I stepped into his strike, taking in more of the blade and grabbing out at him. Was able to grasp him into a rough bear-hug only thanks to his brief surprise - my gun-arm made the process awkward. Seeing the confusion on his face only made the self-inflicted damage worthwhile. Shortly followed by his eyes dropping to the floor and realizing what I had done.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Never intended to shoot him. Normal shot wouldn¡¯t hurt him, and he could deflect it, anyway. So I took my frustration out on the floor. Despite the efforts made to look like a high-tech lab, I had seen how thin and weak the walls in the offices had been. The flooring wasn¡¯t that much better - and hadn¡¯t enjoyed the repeated blasts from my shotgun.


    Using the last of my living energy, I pooled all my strength into this last ditch move. Would have been screaming and growling, if I could. Against his will, I leaned back and lifted the man into the air. Only a foot or so - and he used the excuse to move the blade up higher into my stomach.


    Dropping to my knees, I slammed him down on the weakened floor. A hideous groan was the response, before a crack and the peppered panels split, dropping us down into the level below.


    We twisted in the air, jettisoned by the lab awkwardly into another office. I struck something incredibly uncomfortable that broke under my weight. A cloud of debris and dust washed over the space, obscuring us both.


    Blue light bloomed through the air as the super rose to his feet.


    ¡°Nice try, asshole, but you¡¯ll have to do better than that to-¡°


    V-Force rocketed a Sanguine stake up at my assailant. Nice of him to keep fucking blabbing so that I knew where his face was. The power washed away the cloud of dust, sucking it into the space the metal ammunition had traveled. It brought the villain into view.


    His face was one of surprise. Impact point was under his jaw. Exit wound left a hole bubbling brains at the top of his skull. A trickle of powdered factory ran down from the puncture wound in the ceiling.


    With a shaky step backwards, his senses gave out, and he flopped over to the floor.


    Now I needed to make my escape.


    Muscles burned and shook as my attempt to stand felt like torture. Bloodied wounds were now caked in dust, but I could see that I didn¡¯t come out of that knife fight as well as I had thought. Woozy. Left arm had been cut to the bone in two places. Head was still bleeding. Stomach was pulsing with the stuff as my muscles cramped and protested against the puncture. Oh, and I¡¯d also either dislocated or broken my left knee in the fall.


    And this was with stims on the go.


    I blinked my exhausted eyes and looked around. A long, open plan office. I¡¯d lost my orientation at some point, but there were actual windows down at the far end. Falling to the lower floor had the side benefits of being away from the security measures and lockdown. Not that my current predicament made getting back home any easier.


    Couldn¡¯t even let Boss know the contract was complete. Left hand could barely raise above my waist, so no vocalizer or typing.


    I had one option, but I was going to fucking hate myself tomorrow. Still, better living than dead. My legs shuffled me to the closest wall, and I tried to get into a crouching position. Left hand needed to do one last task for me. It would hurt. I scrabbled into my tools for a particularly prong-shaped piece of metal.


    Cursed myself and people with super powers for ruining my evening.


    With what little energy I could muster, I flung my hand up to reach my neck briefly. My pained actions rewarded with a crack and a slow hiss. Stims were programmed to only release so much magical goodness every so often so you didn¡¯t get hooked or overdose. Something you could override if you broke it in just the right place.


    My whole body became numb and warm as the stim pack unloaded everything it had into my system. Briefly I felt elated - like I was dreaming. If only. A residual pain lingered everywhere, but it was just a brief discomfort. That amount of nanites would patch up the bleeding parts of me, but I¡¯d need a few days to actually heal up.


    Eyes went over to the window and I moved toward it. Awkward gait as I could somehow walk on my broken leg, despite the biology of it hating every step.


    Other downside of stim overdose was blacking out. As sweat ran against my drying blood, the next few stages of my evening played out like an old movie. The fading memories of a drunken night out.


    Smashed the window and flung myself out. Landed on an awning before bouncing off and landing atop a vehicle. Broke the windshield and a couple of ribs. Tazer mag in and sirens in the distance. Gave the guard-post and gates an electric handshake and worked my dizzy self over to my bike.


    The journey back¡­ I don¡¯t even remember. Darkness. Flashing streetlights. The roar of the engine. Pain that I had long dissociated from.


    And then I slid the mechanical beast across the loose gravel as the blurred shape of my house was in view.


    Somehow made it off the bike without falling. Started to drag myself towards salvation.


    ¡°Dubs? Out working late¡­ oh, what the fuck?¡±


    I turned my head and blinked slowly to see Roxy literally leap from her front yard to mine. Concern across her face. Dark baggy clothing, and a bottle of beer in her hand.


    ¡°Shitting hell, you look dead. You need a hospital right now.¡±


    Blood dripped to the ground as I attempted to shake my head.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re unclipped. Let me¡­¡± Her brow furrowed further as she reached around my neck to clip the vocalizer back in place.


    [Thank you. I will be fine.]


    ¡°Fuck off with that toxic masculinity shit.¡± She pressed a finger against my chest. ¡°Either you go to the hospital, or you tell me how to fix you up. Now.¡±


    I found myself unable to argue, only partly because I might literally die any second. This was going against standard protocol, but I was honestly too tired to care anymore.


    [Switch by front door to disable traps. You¡¯ll hear¡­ lack of hum. Workbench. Bring fresh cannister, stims, and the case with blue writing on it.]


    She nodded eagerly before vanishing for a moment, only to return with a thud. ¡°Here, sit on this deckchair. Good thing I had two out already, huh?¡±


    I grunted and did as I was told. Probably would have apologized for getting blood all over it if I hadn¡¯t used all my energy to tell her how not to die to my house traps. Maybe they wouldn¡¯t kill a strength super, anyway. I heard her leave, and then return almost immediately - my brain not bothering to remember the in-between.


    ¡°Damn, Dubs. Your house is¡­ well, it looks like a kill room. You kill people in there?¡±


    With nothing but exhaustion, I looked up at her.


    [Not yet.]


    ¡°Not my place to judge how you live, but you could do better.¡± She placed the gathered items at the foot of the deckchair. ¡°What do I need to do?¡±


    [First lower my scarf and replace cannister and stims. Clasps, align pins, clasps.]


    She nodded, an odd amount of apprehension on her face. I almost preferred it when she was obnoxiously overconfident. It would certainly make my current safety less stressful if the both of us could pretend it was no big deal.


    I was patient and didn¡¯t rush her. Better to do it right. Cannister went in and soft comfort ran through me. Stims were next, and she swore under her breath a couple of times trying to align the pins - but it went in and another pulse of the good stuff made me feel awake. An unhealthy amount of the nanites for one evening. The withdrawal the next two days would be¡­ challenging.


    ¡°What now?¡±


    [Tool in the case is for removing shrapnel. Click it against my wounds to remove bullets.]


    Roxy pulled a face as she withdrew it. ¡°This is barbaric. Isn¡¯t this for using on non-organic materials?¡±


    [Please. It will not be enjoyable for either of us, but it is necessary.]


    How right I was about that. By the time the last piece of my terrible evening had been ejected and she waved the smell of burned flesh away, she had paled and had her fill of playing nurse.


    I slunk back in the deckchair, barely surprised that she moved hers across to be almost beside mine.


    She sighed and picked up her half-full bottle once more. ¡°Was planning on getting you to come out and shoot the shit with me for a bit, but looks like your evening was a fucker. Want to talk about it?¡±


    [Not at present.]


    ¡°They had me do a presentation to kids today. It was awful.¡± She shuffled in her seating. ¡°I like kids, but I¡¯m the wrong fucking person to talk to them about bullshit. Not without swearing, anyway. Felt like punishment.¡±


    [I¡¯m sorry you had to deal with that.]


    Her fingertips drummed on the glass bottle. ¡°Asshole, I know you¡¯re hurting. Tracker picked up something in the Oceano Group factory district. I can put two and two together. A story for another day, I hope." She paused for a second, her tongue caught on a thought. "I actually wanted to ask you something¡­¡±


    [Oh.]


    An evening beneath the stars where she bitched about her day and we discussed anti-villain defensive measures sounded slightly better than getting chewed up on a stupid contract, but perhaps she had an ulterior motive. Catching me when I was weak and tired was a strong play on her end, if that was the case.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say no immediately¡­ hear me out first, okay?¡±


    [I¡¯m¡­ fine, go ahead.]


    The super turned to her side to face me, an awkward grin across her face.


    ¡°I have a housewarming party soon. I¡¯d like you to come.¡±

 16 - Half-Full

    Underneath the night sky, the pair of us were only illuminated by a couple of tall lamps in Roxy¡¯s garden. I stared at the super. Partly because I was just recovering from the brink of death, and was trying to determine if my internal organs had patched themselves up solely by judging the frequency of pulsing dull pains in my core¡­ but also because her asking me to a party was perhaps the worst thing that had happened to me all day.


    [Absolutely not.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a dick! I said hear me out first. You think I want to be there? Superheroes are fucking douchebags.¡± She crossed her arms and scowled at me - perhaps inviting me to weigh in on that. No, too easy.


    [Is it not your party?]


    ¡°Yeah, but¡­ League is forcing it.¡± The super deflated in her chair and turned her scowl to the equally unflinching sky. ¡°Mandatory team-building or some shit.¡±


    I stared at the woman for a handful of silent seconds. She was ever eager to push the boundaries of our cordial neighbor relationship. I was still yet to fully understand why she had moved here and felt the need to befriend me. Her prior answers ticked some boxes, but still left me unsatisfied. Like eating cardboard¡­ I assumed. She did not budge in her decision to treat me as if I were a regular person and not a dirty murder machine. It was uncomfortable for reasons I was too tired to ponder over.


    [Do they always treat you like a toddler?]


    She exhaled through her nose and thought about the response rather than blurting something out immediately. ¡°I¡¯m just chaotic and don¡¯t gel well with their culture of order. They are doing this for my benefit, I¡¯m just¡­ being thick headed about it.¡±


    I nodded along, which was more painful than it should be. My body had mostly frozen up, but the nanites had held my seams together well enough that I shouldn¡¯t bleed to death all over her lent deckchair. These new nutritional cannisters were something else - normally a fresh one would put me to sleep when I was injured.


    It was telling that she still danced to their tune despite the disdain for it. Sometimes a super that didn¡¯t fit the mold eventually broke free, and either became a villain or¡­ well, I¡¯m sure there was a nuanced third option - a little outside my purview, however. It seemed as though I was getting a crash course in the hero and villain dynamic within the city, where previously I avoided it like the plague.


    [Not seeing why I have to be dragged into this.]


    Roxy tilted her head back to me and grimaced - which could just be due to the state I was in. ¡°This is sad, but you¡¯re like my second closest friend in the city.¡±


    [That is very sad, I agree. I barely tolerate you and find you not only irritating but most likely a danger to my continued existence.]


    ¡°Right? So you¡¯ll come bail me out?¡±


    [No.]


    ¡°Please, Dubs? I¡¯ll make it worth your while~.¡± She wagged the bottle towards me.


    The sing-song voice didn¡¯t do much to sway me. There were very few things I wanted in life, and I wasn¡¯t sure any of them were worth sitting around trying to make small talk with a group of stuck up superheros. Even thinking that situation out in my head was sending alarm bells ringing. Still, she had the curiosity of my slurry-adjacent brain.


    [What could you possibly offer me?]


    She clucked her tongue and gave me a wide grin. ¡°See, you¡¯re a fool if you don¡¯t think I know exactly what revs your engine, Dubs. The one friend I have in this shithole is a gal named Clara. She works in the tech and robotics division of the League.¡± The super wagged her eyebrows. ¡°You know what that means? She¡¯ll give you a once-over and see if there are any upgrades we can get you on the sly.¡±


    Roxy then paused and waited for my reaction. I didn¡¯t really have the energy to give her anything more than a blank stare. I did need upgrades - that was the terrible thing. The tech that the League would have access to was a few stages better than whatever I''d be able to scavenge or get on the dubious marketplaces. Boss was hit or miss with plying me with what he could get, so I was starting to take this sort of thing into my own hands. Hand. I did need upgrades.


    But enough to go to a party?


    [She has experience with V-Force tech? And¡­ why is it that you want to help me in such a manner? I am a murderer.]


    ¡°Everything from E-Class up to A-Class at the moment.¡± She nodded. ¡°Perhaps I don¡¯t like my neighbor turning up looking like roadkill on the regular?¡± Her hand gestured up and down my mutilated form. ¡°Hopefully you don¡¯t run into any more villains, but until we get some defenses up out here, I don¡¯t want you getting fucked over because of your association with me. I''m sure your job is difficult enough without fucking villains turning up at your home.¡±


    Glossing over the fact I was only associated with her because she moved in next door and now was trying to involve me with more supers¡­ she had a point. A very small point, like the tip of a needle. Uncomfortable enough that I couldn¡¯t settle on the straightforward response I¡¯d normally care to give. How far would I go for upgrades? Devious.


    [Unfortunately I already ran into a villain today during work.]


    ¡°That¡¯s what happened to you? Fuck me, Dubs. But you escaped?¡±


    [Killed them.]


    She whistled. ¡°Shit. Wow. Your condition makes a lot of sense then. Killed a villain again, though? Once is like a fluke. You¡¯d get your dick sucked by the League and your fifteen minutes of fame¡­ two is the start of a dangerous habit.¡± Roxy shook her head, trying to get the disbelief away. ¡°You catch a name?¡±


    [No. Smarmy asshole with a white striped uniform that looked like chain-mail. Eye mask and blue sword.]


    Her face contorted its way through several emotions before she settled on putting her head in her free hand. ¡°You killed Skyblade. Fucking¡­ ugh. What am I going to do with you?¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    [Move far away and leave me in peace?]


    ¡°You wish, you asshole.¡± She raised her head back away from her hand to scowl at me. ¡°He is part of the Unwritten Tome criminal organization. If they find out that you did it¡­¡±


    [They won¡¯t. I left no evidence of me being there behind.]


    Quite possibly the boldest lie I ever told. Despite my award-winning poker face, the super just shook her head in response. If you ignored the blood, handprints, and shotgun shells - I had been a shadow in the night.


    ¡°This is what I mean - you could do with having some hero friends to bail you out of this kinda shit.¡± She sighed again. ¡°Do I have to use the shrapnel remover to scold you?¡±


    [I could take it.]


    My usual grip of what left my brain and went through my vocalizer has weakened due to my brush with death and the amount of drugs circling my system. She gave me a look that bordered on concern and confusion, while I recoiled away in embarrassment. Or would, if I were capable of moving at all. In some ways, I was a prisoner here. Hostage to socializing with her. A mistake that I had made to allow her to help me rather than doing it myself and collapsing onto my mattress for the rest of my life.


    ¡°Back to the task at hand,¡± she started, slowly, ¡°there¡¯s going to be three other supers there, plus Clara. They¡¯re all pretty mid tier like me, so you shouldn¡¯t be crushed under the weight of their egos¡­ but apparently they¡¯re the dipshit peers I¡¯m meant to be chummy with.¡±


    I managed a short nod. Part of me wondered if I¡¯d be doomed to talk to Roxy until the sun came up - strangely, I didn¡¯t feel like sleeping despite my body being unresponsive. Wasn¡¯t sure if it was a good or bad thing yet. Maybe this was something I couldn¡¯t recover from. Pushed my luck too far. Time to retire to my kill room forever.


    [Assuming the bribe of potential upgrades takes me away from most of the need to socialize, I still fail to see how you plan to explain my presence.]


    ¡°Damn. I was hoping to spring it on you on the day so that you couldn¡¯t escape it.¡± She grimaced and fiddled with her bottle. ¡°I was going to introduce you as¡­ my potential sidekick.¡±


    It was at this point I would have stood and stormed off. Instead, I remained laying half-propped up on the deckchair and my pained stomach convulsed with muscle spasms. Perfect. Instead, my silence spoke volumes - as I didn''t particularly care to use the number of swear words her idea warranted.


    ¡°Come on! It¡¯s just a little white lie¡­ a provisional sidekick doesn¡¯t need any paperwork, so the League won¡¯t even hear about it.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. As I was employed as a private assassin and hitman, being around superheroes and pretending to be the understudy of Rockslide was something beyond the pale. My eyes went back over to her and she just looked as though she was trying to convince herself that it was a good idea about as much as she was trying to convert me to the proposition.


    She hadn¡¯t touched her beer since I arrived back home. Most likely this was due to how important to her the conversation was. Jumping when the League said to was part of her job¡ªand thus way of life¡ªso I could understand her point of view. Not too dissimilar to my own situation, despite how often I tried to convince myself otherwise. She seemed earnest about being a hero, and although she was rough around the edges, she wasn¡¯t a bad person. Ignoring her acceptance and dismissal of my vocation, of course. A sigh escaped from my filters.


    [All I can promise is that I will think it over. Give me a day.]


    ¡°Acceptable. I mean, you¡¯re beat to shit right now. It¡¯s a miracle that you¡¯re alive, let alone lucid.¡±


    [I am ready and willing to believe that this has been nothing but a fever dream that will fade from my memory come morning.]


    She smiled and leaned back in her chair to look up at the few stars that could be made out between roving clouds. ¡°I sure hope not. Feel sorry for you, though. How long without being able to talk and now you have to put up with me all the time?¡±


    I did not reply, but managed to turn my head so that I could look at the same stars. An exhaustion finally swept over my body. One of the most tiring days of this life, all things told. Still no closer to understanding the woman only a few feet away from me. She had helped me in a time of need, and while that didn¡¯t pave the way for me to jump into the lion¡¯s den, I couldn¡¯t ignore the effort.


    [Roxy, I appreciate your assistance tonight. There is one last thing I would like to ask of you.]


    ¡°Of course, Dubs.¡± She glanced over and gave me a soft smile. ¡°Name it and I¡¯ll tell you the cost.¡±


    [I yearn to sleep, yet I cannot move.]


    ¡°You¡¯re really craving that grubby mattress on the floor?¡± She shook her head and sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll not nag your dumb ass because you are an adult. If you want to live that way, then whatever. Just because you¡¯re a heartless killer doesn¡¯t mean you have to scrape by with less than the minimum. Let me put your gadgets away, then I¡¯ll help, okay?¡±


    I went to thank her, but thoughts caught on my figurative tongue. Maybe the cost was the disdain shared over my home setup. Judgement wasn¡¯t something I often had to contend with - and as much as she was saying that she accepted my choices, there was clearly some contempt for the way that I existed during the time I was off the clock.


    Could I get a proper bed?


    Sure. But it would get dirty immediately every time I collapsed onto it, bloodied and beaten. Then I¡¯d have to get a washer and start changing my clothing regularly. Bathe. Before you knew it, I¡¯d be living a disgusting juxtaposition of a normal man by day and redeemless murderer at night.


    It felt wrong.


    I shook these thoughts away as she returned. Didn¡¯t take much for her to lift me up to her shoulder and assist me. She was a strength super, after all. Could probably princess carry me across the threshold, if I didn¡¯t mind breaking my head across the door frame. Sounded like I needed that. The cranial damage, I meant. Note to self: do not overdose on stims again. Thankful at least I had the wherewithal to keep these sloppy thoughts inside my head, I diverted to a different question that had a more acceptable form to it.


    [Are you stronger than Skyblade was?]


    ¡°Why do you ask?¡±


    My lense had been assuring me that Roxy was no threat, which made sense. It only cared to do the job when something was actively trying to harm me. Made it more comparative than a simple power level.


    [It will help me gauge how much in need of having powerful allies I am.]


    A small fib, but made it sound like the information would help me determine how much closer I was to accepting her party invitation. On a scale of zero. That''s it. The scale didn''t even have numbers.


    ¡°I could have taken him. He was on the lower rungs of the Tome bunch. Although I''m resilient, I can¡¯t absorb empowered cuts from a weapon like his - so he¡¯d hurt me - but I¡¯d look a lot better than you do, bud.¡±


    Any further desire to dig into the numbers fizzled away as she got me into my house and over to the bed. Familiar place of comfort had my muscle memory ready to pass out within seconds. She kneeled down and allowed my spent form to flop unceremoniously onto the decrepit mattress.


    [Thank you, I owe you one.]


    Regretted saying that immediately.


    ¡°You¡¯d do the same for me if I were hurt, right?¡± She lingered near the doorway, awaiting my answer.


    [It¡­ is likely.]


    ¡°Rest well, Dubs. I left my number on the floor there. About time we had contact details¡­ for emergencies, right?¡± She started to close the door. ¡°Message if you have any complications, otherwise I¡¯ll see you when you¡¯re recovered?¡±


    [You will.]


    The door clicked shut, and I listened to her walk away, only pausing to retrieve her deckchairs. I felt somewhat foolish in needing her help, but it wasn¡¯t exactly a normal evening. Even without her arriving here the other day, I would still have had the same contract and maybe have been even less prepared for going up against someone with super powers.


    The Sanguine ammunition had been a lifesaver in being able to pierce the usual defenses that they had. Down to two shots, I had a feeling I¡¯d need more soon enough if possible. Something to ask Boss when I had more senses put together in my jumbled mind. I should at least let him know I¡¯d done my job.


    [Message Boss. Contract complete. Send.]


    He could get the full debriefing tomorrow, or at least whenever I resumed existing in this reality. With awkward positioning, and a lot of pain, I managed to jostle the vocalizer out of position to pitch me back into a life of muteness.


    Withdrawal would hit in less than twelve hours, and I¡¯d be spending most of the day screaming or babbling hysterics. Didn¡¯t want to disturb the neighbor.

 17 - Added Weight

    Plain white walls surrounded me. A featureless room of nearly twenty feet square. Devoid of anything of note, aside from the modestly comfortable chair straight dab in the middle. I was sitting on this chair, drumming all ten fingers on my knees as I waited patiently.


    This place I called Tranquility.


    My body was acting in ways that I found distressing and unhelpful, so I now lived here for a while. A safe place I had envisioned back when I was under for my cybernetic surgeries. Didn¡¯t often have need of it, but with the amount of trauma I lived through, it was handy to have a dissociated headspace to cool off in.


    Of course, it didn¡¯t fully numb my senses to what was happening in reality. Like a bad wind buffeting the outside of this windowless chamber, the edges of pain waned and rustled through my ears. Occasionally there was the repeated tapping like hail was falling. I knew this to be my gun-arm racking and trigger clicking, as my synapses didn¡¯t have complete control.


    At some point, I had the wherewithal to remove my mags and made sure the chamber was empty before this became a thing. Some manner of luck - I didn¡¯t seem to be able to activate Overcharge in this state. Otherwise, I¡¯d still be convulsing under the shattered remains of my house.


    Too many healing nanites and the body got confused and saw them as a foreign influence. Tried to purge them at any cost, even as the minute tech attempted to put me back together again. The withdrawal from the other drugs in the stims had every fiber of my being feeling dry and restless. Muscles would tense and relax in spasms, while nerves danced around aflame.


    Still, I was alive. Would continue living. What good that did the world, I wasn¡¯t sure - but in sitting in my Tranquility; I found time to have a good think about things. Took my mind off the agony for a while.


    I decided that I would make the effort to be a better neighbor to Roxy.


    Although that seemed like a thought borne of my fevered mania, there was some pragmatic reasoning to it. Namely, I did need allies.


    It would be difficult to shake the sticky turd of the Unwritten Tome and other such poorly named villain or criminal organizations. Although I imagined Boss spent a considerable effort erasing any trace of my existence, now that I had fouled the carpet with my dirtied boots, it was only a matter of time before someone tracked me down with a hefty cleaning bill.


    To avoid getting pulped or exploded in my sleep, I¡¯d need upgrades and a few people that would go to bat for me.


    Did that mean I was ready and willing to attend this ¡®party¡¯ and rub elbows with the super¡¯s mandated buddy group? Not entirely. I didn¡¯t want to meet people, least of all other heroes - yet this was at the request of Roxy. She had annoyed her way into being a regular presence in my life and¡ªwhile I still suspected ulterior motives¡ªbeneath the layer of vulgarity and overconfidence, she did seem to care about me.


    Something odd and uncomfortable, but not unwelcome.


    The only problem was accepting her friendship made my life a lot more difficult. Not just for the occasionally awkward blood-soaked conversation, nor even the fact that I¡¯d be dragged into fights or social situations I didn¡¯t care for¡­ but that it also opened up some of the crates in the back of my mind. Things that held something more dangerous than ammunition and explosives.


    Questions.


    They had been easy to bury in my solitude. Work, rest, and repeat. No need to for it to be anything but that. But when you had people around you, it was easy to be needled by sharp-ended question marks. Why did I live this way? What was I before my cybernetic resurrection? Who was Boss really? How long could I survive like this?


    I¡¯m not sure I even had answers, or the desire to dig them up just yet. But the further I allowed myself to seep into a life that was more¡­ normal, the more they would wriggle around in my mind until I could crush them.


    I had a decision to make and I¡­ ah¡­ no, what was I thinking?


    My eyes blinked open. For some reason, my ears were ringing. Room was lit with a fading light. I took a sudden deep breath of stale mattress, as if I had been drowning and just surfaced. With shaking muscles, I pushed myself up to a sitting position.


    Drenched with sweat. Heartbeat throbbing in my fragile skull. Vertigo disliking my very being. My left hand went up, and I gingerly lifted my goggles further up my forehead. Skin was sore, and the straps stuck to me briefly before relenting. Had been a while since I had removed them, but my eyes needed a little room to breathe. Rubbed at them, which felt both amazing yet nauseating. Good thing I couldn¡¯t throw up.


    Wasn¡¯t a fan of the different hue reality now took, so closed my eyes while I sat and existed. Needed to change the cannister as soon as I had the courage to stand.


    As if prompted by destiny, a knocking came at my door. Although with how sensitive I felt, it might as well have been on the side of my head.


    ¡°Dubs? Sorry for disturbing - it¡¯s just been almost two days, and I wanted to make sure you hadn¡¯t died.¡±


    I lowered my goggles back in placed and sighed. Went to talk, but nothing came out. Of course - I was disconnected.


    ¡°Not that the smell would be any different, I guess.¡±


    My hand palmed around the back of my neck, trying to find the end of my vocalizer. Some brief panic as I thought I had fully disconnected it during my thrashing, but no - there it was. It clicked into place as the magnets took hold.


    [I am alive.]


    ¡°Thank fuck. You been sleeping this whole time?¡±


    [In a way, yes.]


    ¡°Cool. Well, I¡¯ll be hanging out front again this evening if you wanted company.¡±


    I kneaded a knuckle into my temple. Wasn¡¯t sure I was ready for such a commitment at this stage. There was the chance I would still lose control of my sensibilities or pass out from renewed pain. Before I could give her a response, she had already walked off - her footsteps against the loose grave fading away.


    Maybe some fresh air would do me some good.


    Eyes went over to my workbench, and I willed my body into action. Up onto shaking legs, I had at least managed that. Half the battle, I was sure. My left knee still ached where I had broken or dislocated it. Seemed functional, and with enough prompting, I was able to shuffle across the floor. Empty can out, new one in. Delightful.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I¡¯d have to go without stims for a bit. Just a day or two so my body could adjust. Wouldn¡¯t be fun, but at least a lot better than the two that had just passed. Perhaps I¡¯d gotten away with missing the social gathering. I dared to dream.


    Looking down at my wrist, I now noticed I had two messages.


    Great work, as always, Agent W. I knew my faith in you was not misplaced. Boss.


    Credits delivered. Additional package has been delayed, but will keep you updated. I will wait for your full debriefing before discussing anything further. Boss.


    Something more tangible sounded like it might be helpful - if it got here before I died. Credits were¡­ well, I hadn¡¯t checked my balance in years. Wasn¡¯t really anywhere I could spend them, and Boss delivered everything I needed for work. I didn¡¯t even know my cut when I accepted contracts¡­ which was maybe something I¡¯d need to change. Not because I cared for the money, but I should be smarter about these things.


    Or so my traumatized mind believed right now.


    Rather than stare blankly around my drab living space any longer, I decided to let the super annoy me. It might help block out some of the pain. Back off the chair, I went to the door at a snail¡¯s pace. It opened and¡­ I was right - the fresh air was wonderful, if not briefly dizzying.


    Shaking the spots away from my vision, I looked over to see Roxy near the edge of her grass garden in her deckchair again. Wearing¡­ a baggy white onesie that had rabbit ears on the hood. Perhaps I had gone insane. It was possible with the amount of damage and drugs I had become.


    Parallel from her seating arrangement, she had put the other deckchair on my part of the yard. Only a few feet away from hers, but clearly split between our two properties.


    As I dragged my complaining legs through the dust and stones of my front garden, she raised her eyes away from the horizon to look over at me.


    Roxy whistled, and her face scrunched up. ¡°Damn. Are you sure you didn¡¯t die?¡±


    [The jury is still out.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t you ever change clothes? How long have you been wearing¡­ no, don¡¯t tell me.¡± She shook her head. ¡°You just sew it up and cover the damage with a new layer of fabric.¡±


    [Smarter than you look.]


    My condition had my patience ground down to a nub, and my figurative tongue was looser than I¡¯d normally like. It wasn¡¯t my intent to insult her, and perhaps it would have been better if I had stayed indoors. Was I making a mistake?


    She smiled. ¡°That¡¯s doubtful, but it¡¯s no wonder you look like you¡¯re built like a garbage truck and smell twice as bad. You¡¯re probably nothing but a twig under all that.¡±


    I grunted as I lowered myself into the deckchair and leaned back. Whether I¡¯d regret engaging with the super or not, I had committed to walking across the yard and couldn¡¯t stomach the return journey just yet.


    ¡°You catch the news? Or have you literally been out for two days?¡±


    [No, I haven¡¯t seen anything.]


    She leaned down on the other side of her chair and produced a flat device. Passed it over to me with difficulty as we both had to lean further to get it safely into my left hand. A screen illuminated with white light, to show a page of text.


    Villain attacks Oceano Group lead researcher, League apprehends culprit.


    My eyebrows furrowed as I read through the rest of the article.


    [They are saying Skyblade did the hit, and that the League arrested him?]


    Roxy nodded slowly. ¡°Kinda fucky, huh?¡±


    I watched her face as I handed the screen back over. There was a clear cloud over her normal expression. Knowing what really happened, she didn¡¯t seem best pleased that the League of Heroes was both saving face and claiming credit for what went down at the factory.


    [Arrested too. I wonder why they went with that.]


    She worked her jaw. ¡°Sure you actually killed him? Not doubting you, Dubs, but superheros are resilient as fuck.¡±


    [I watched his brains leak out of two holes in his head. How many can come back from that?]


    ¡°None around our paygrade.¡± A deep sigh left her nose, and she turned to scowl at the sky.


    Something was going on unsaid - or at least there was some turmoil within her fiery head that had been stewing for a while. She wasn¡¯t spilling it out over me, so it must be something bad. I decided to change track and unhinge her from whatever thoughts clouded her usual self.


    [Did I miss the party?]


    ¡°Hmm?¡± She raised an eyebrow and her expression softened. ¡°You wish, asshole. It¡¯s in two days.¡±


    [Shame. I have not yet had a chance to consider your invitation, but would you like to tell me about your designated peers?]


    ¡°Sure!¡± Roxy turned in her chair to sit facing me. ¡°You remember the other evening, right? Don¡¯t need to tell you who Clara is again?¡±


    [Unfortunately, I remember it all.]


    An exceptional amount of clarity, considering how dosed up and near death I was. Could just be the drugs and nanites made gripping at the memory that much easier because I was so on edge.


    ¡°Great. So we have three douchebags joining us at the table.¡± Three fingers raised on her hand.


    I noted that she was talking as if I had already agreed and was on board with the plan, but didn¡¯t care to interrupt her at this stage. Talking was tiring.


    ¡°First up we have Captain Snaps. Yeah, I know. Ex-military scout who is now a speedster. Got a mouth like a motor and an ego to power it. Used to get in trouble for roughhousing but has cooled off. He¡¯ll want to be here even less than I do.¡±


    [I imagine he will want to rush off rather than sit around.]


    ¡°No, he is just a prick.¡± Roxy pulled a face that told me she didn¡¯t appreciate my weak hero-jokes. ¡°Second, we have Wren. She¡¯ll be the easiest to deal with, as she won¡¯t look up from her phone or care to engage you much. She¡¯s a bow user, and a stuck-up bitch, but she isn¡¯t aggressive. Elven and comes from old money.¡±


    [Sounds pleasant.]


    ¡°She¡¯s probably the most savvy out of our cluster when it comes to the business side of being a super, but she is a pain when it comes to public relations because she looks like a grumpy cow near constantly.¡±


    I nodded. As much as I knew the housewarming party would be a who¡¯s who of odd and problematic egos, I hadn¡¯t expected it to this degree. Before the third reprobate was revealed, I had to interject to clarify something.


    [A cluster?]


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s like a group of supers. For when shit is too dire for one alone. Most heroes will belong to at least one during their career. Some stick together, and others are just for convenience - or mandated. I wanted to be solo, but I¡¯m lumped together with these shits.¡±


    As much as it felt as though I was just prompting her for exposition dumps, it was important for me to understand the full picture. A group of supers would certainly be more well-equipped to deal with larger threats, especially if they were geared to cover each other''s weaknesses.


    ¡°Lastly, we have¡­ Belle. That¡¯s not her full title, but fuck trying to pronounce pretentious dead language shit.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Sorry, but this chick is my least favorite. Like the other two... I could have a beer with and have that bond that coworkers have to have. But Belle is¡­¡±


    [Further reason why me participating is a no go.]


    ¡°Whaaat?¡± Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°Now that I¡¯ve described them, you don¡¯t want to experience their disfunctions in real life? Belle is our support super. Shields and bullshit.¡±


    [Oh, sign me up then. I could use a healer.]


    She ignored me. ¡°Trouble is, she is aggressively nice. But it¡¯s not genuine, and she doesn¡¯t even try. First thing she¡¯ll do when she sees you is try to evangelize you into her cult. Will look down on you harder than the elf, but puts up a false act of being a nice brat.¡± Roxy then crossed her arms, something that I would take more seriously if not for the bunny onesie.


    So it looked as though they had a strength, speed, ranged, and support super. Someone at the League clearly had a vision, even if it wasn¡¯t taking into account their various personality disorders. Four was a decent number of heroes, but for some reason, I had expected five.


    [Clara is not part of the cluster?]


    ¡°No. She¡¯s just a researcher - doesn¡¯t have any powers. She¡¯s only coming because she¡¯s an actual friend.¡±


    I tried to ignore the dig, but the spoken shovel clanked against something hard in my head. Despite having voluntarily left my nest of despair to engage in what had been a very long and exhausting conversation¡ªsomething outside of my nature¡ªit didn¡¯t seem enough. Apparently, I had to commit wholesale to whatever she wanted from me.


    Before I worked up any further questions to ask, she stood up. With a quick flick, she pulled her hood up, causing the rabbit ears to flop over her face.


    ¡°Been real nice, Dubs. Thanks for the chat. I¡¯m working night shift tonight, so I¡¯ll have to hop, hah.¡± She clicked her fingers and turned from me. Her onesie had a large fluffy ball as a tail, which was pink for some reason. Didn¡¯t seem very realistic.


    [Be safe, Roxy.]


    She turned her head back and grinned. ¡°Don¡¯t forget to ask your Boss for permission to come and play, okay?¡±


    I furrowed my brow as I watched her disappear into her house, before I turned to look at the fading sunlight. A slow sigh left my lungs, vibrating one of my re-breather filters.


    It was about time I let Boss know about all the bullshit going on.

 18 - Vocation / Vacation

    Rest was something that I needed in abundance, even under normal work pressure. But for this last day, it didn¡¯t come easily. I awoke in the night several times, shuffling on my mattress in the dark. Only once or twice due to pain, the other times were¡­ just an overactive brain. Now it was midmorning and my desire to do something won out and I agreed to stay awake. The glow of my STAR device illuminated my aching eyes.


    Let the League take credit, but killing a villain might have brought more heat your way. Stay vigilant and I¡¯ll notify you if anything pings on my system. With that kind of effort, you definitely need a few extra days of holiday. Finally, Agent W, I am not your parent, so go to the party if you feel there is a valid reason to. Just don¡¯t lose sight of your role or compromise either of us. I trust you. Boss.


    Probably the longest missive I¡¯d received from Boss since that time that I derailed an emptied electro-tram off its rails and over the skyway to hit a target in a sixth-floor office building.


    Holiday was a misnomer. What that truly meant was that I wouldn¡¯t be getting any contracts until this all blew over. A punishment. I¡¯m sure my physical form would appreciate the added rest, but the part of me who wanted to strive to stay on course felt antsy about sitting idle. Self aware enough to know I was mostly used as a tool, I just wanted to fulfill my purpose. Otherwise, what was I?


    The barb about the party stung a little, too.


    Not to say I saw him as anything further than my employer, but given that I had taken to a life of misery and solitude for the job¡­ well, having him say in no uncertain terms that I had self-inflicted this unnecessary lifestyle was perhaps a wake-up call.


    So now the question was - what did I want?


    Could easily continue as I was. There was a peace to being alone and focused on my work that couldn¡¯t be denied. It was what made me the efficient agent that I was today. A life more well-rounded might soften my edges or allow weaknesses to develop. But, I didn¡¯t have to be only a tool.


    I shifted up to a sitting position and tried to shake the fog clouding my head. The feeling of being untethered from the norm was exhausting, and I¡¯d only just gotten up. Best to busy myself with things that didn¡¯t involve so much drab introspection. Boss had also sent the coordinates for my reward package pick up.


    Point F with keycode 392. I¡¯d go later in the evening when the city had cooled off and people who weren¡¯t looking for trouble were nestled away in their homes.


    For now, it was breakfast time.


    Muscles were sore but functional. Just felt like I¡¯d recovered from a jog I wasn¡¯t used to doing. I felt around my stomach as I stepped over to the workbench. Skin was fresh and sensitive, but my organs were on the inside still. A medical miracle, paid for with a few days of insanity.


    Fresh cannister in. I¡¯d have to tell Boss that these newer ones were the best so far. Actually gave me an energy boost rather than the brief lethargy. Replaced my stim pack too, and was glad that it didn¡¯t immediately flood me with the stuff my body was sick of.


    [Now, what should I put on the agenda for today?]


    I spoke out loud in hopes that I could avoid the elephant in the corner of the room. It worked, and my mind eagerly turned towards my crates. Lots of things I could busy myself with so that I could avoid making any sort of decisions.


    First up, gun-arm maintenance. It had taken a lot of hits during my factory contract. Small ammunitions fire and empowered sword strikes. The damage was¡­ surprisingly negligible. A few lighter lines along it as it bore its own scars from the battle with Skyblade, but functionally in one piece. If Boss had replaced my whole body with this material, my life would be a lot easier.


    Maybe I should look into body armor.


    I oiled the working parts and buffed out most of the scratches. Allowed my V-Force drive to charge back up and power down a few times. Cleaning rod down the barrel to ensure there was no debris or damage after cycling the working parts so much when I was out cold. Good as new.


    Flipped a blue Blank shell up into the air and caught it in the open chamber, closed it smoothly before popping it back open and catching the cartridge in my hand once more. A neat trick, but not something to do when my life was on the line. I didn¡¯t have the ego or safety that supers had to be flourishing my equipment or spouting one-liners.


    Next up was my outfit. Too many of my layers of drab green required patching, so I settled for just swaddling myself in a whole new layer of fabric. Perhaps I should be removing the old ones at some point¡­ but part of me was afraid to see what remained beneath.


    Why was it now I that had chosen to come to terms with the fact that I had been rejecting my humanity?


    I shook my head again and focused. Getting the fabric around me and fastened took a lot longer than it should due to my arm. Utilizing a few clamps affixed to the workbench, I performed the necessary movements to get it done. Some practiced precision, as this was far from the first time. It also gave my stiff muscles time to limber up.


    Far from peak, but if I landed in any hot water, I¡¯d at least be able to hold my own.


    Speaking of that¡­ next up was an alarm system. Something Boss gave to me a couple of years back, but I saw no need to install. Nobody came out this way. Until now, at least. Some digging through long forgotten tech in one of the back crates and I¡¯d found it. Enough connectors to put a perimeter around my house, and have a few left over for the road to the city.


    Rubbed the dirt from the screen and booted it up. A blinking green light thought about it for a few seconds before asking me to pair it with my STAR. Interestingly, it also knew I had the lense tech installed and requested to have access to that.


    I accepted.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Hoisted up the satchel of detecting sensors and sighed, before heading out the door. The day out here on the borders of the wastes was¡­ pleasant. Barely a breeze, and only a few clouds in an otherwise bright sky. I risked a look over to Roxy¡¯s house, but she wasn¡¯t out front. Might even be sleeping in if she had been working late.


    The sensors had some decent range on them, and with some quick head-math, I guessed I could circle our two houses at a distance of around 250 feet, while leaving a pair at 350 feet further down the road. Not the best early warning system, but it could make all the difference if we were sleeping or otherwise engaged. Roxy shouldn¡¯t trip it often as she leaped into the area.


    And so I spent the next few hours slowly walking around, occasionally placing down one of the small cubes of tech - pressing their spikes into the ground - and flicking their switch on. Only had to backtrack three times to get a switch I had somehow forgotten to activate.


    Tiring and sweaty work, but once it was done I told the main device to sync and connect the grid. A circle of light dotted around the screen as it processed my request, before green text replaced it. All done. First try, too - I¡¯d have to admit I felt a little pride for my efforts.


    Returned to my house and put the empty satchel back away, placing the main device for the active security system on the workbench. Now, if only I could have stolen away those Sentries from the factory offices. My fingers drummed on the workbench. Plus... why were they called Pythons and not Constrictors? Life certainly was perplexing sometimes...


    I should probably let the super know.


    Hadn¡¯t used my STAR to communicate with anyone who wasn¡¯t Boss before, so I had to dig around the menus to find the option. Grunting, I tried to get my head around the words.


    [Message Roxy. Have set up security sensors in a 250ft perimeter. Will send you a request so that you also receive notifications. W. Send.]


    That about covered it. I sat down and prodded at the security device until I could find where to add her number. Job done. Been a productive one so far¡­ and I still had plenty of daylight to burn before I could go get my package.


    A small envelope appeared at the top right corner of my lense. That was new. I brought up my left arm to see that the super had replied already.


    Amazing, thanks Dubs! X


    I hated it already. Was pretty sure a sole cross was a terrible way to shorthand her name for sign offs. Still, my fate was sealed, and I¡¯d started the neighborhood watch myself, so had nobody else to blame for my situation. I moved over to my ammo crate to ignore the swirling vortex of the decision that needed to be made.


    Filled up my drum but unloaded the ten-mags. Under half my stock for Tazer cartridges now.


    [Message Boss. Inventory request. Tazer shot. Sanguine stakes. Send.]


    As much as I had been wary of accepting the gift of a vocalizer, it had been such a benefit to my day-to-day life that I wasn¡¯t sure why I had chosen to suffer without it. Certainly, there were still times where going without was beneficial¡­ but at least now I had the choice.


    Roxy¡¯s tech knowledge could now be explained due to her having that friend in the League, but that wasn¡¯t entirely sufficient. It wasn¡¯t exactly knowledge you could just pick up with casual conversation or a glance. Maybe I was being too suspicious? It was likely Clara knew of me, so I assumed Roxy had been blabbing about my existence enough for them to choose the right vocalizer connections - or perhaps it had been a lucky guess.


    Either way, I was certain she was hiding a secret from me. Just because I¡¯d let my guard down and accepted that some change in my life wasn¡¯t as terrible as I thought, it didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t suss out a situation that didn¡¯t make sense. Sometimes, to dig deeper, you had to stand in the hole.


    My shovel was feeling a little blunt right now, however. My eyes looked around the room to see if there was much else I could busy myself with. Maybe I could just¡­ rest?


    The sight of my mattress wasn¡¯t really appealing, however. As I painfully slid from my shell, I had started to grow to realize that my house was perhaps in need of some better organization. Or¡­ just demolishing and starting anew.


    A curse that lingered in my head, as I realized that Roxy was right about it being a kill room. Only problem was the one that it was killing was me. Or... my human spirit?


    I rolled my eyes and left the sour thoughts behind in the room as I exited back into the fresh air. If I had to waste away for a few hours, then the outside world wasn¡¯t the worst. Especially since I had apparently been gifted a deckchair just for such a purpose. I placed myself on it and leaned back.


    Holiday, Boss had said. Maybe I did deserve something more.


    <hr>


    ¡°Evening, Dubs!¡±


    I opened my eyes, briefly confused to see the sun had suddenly moved quite a distance in the sky, as if it had been running away from me in secret. Clearly, a nap had been needed. My head turned to the side to see the super walking from her house. Suited up with a steaming cup of coffee in hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m about to head out again. It¡¯s good to see you in one piece for a change.¡±


    [Another night shift? More punishment, I assume.]


    ¡°Nah.¡± She stopped by her chair and grinned. ¡°Some top secret shit I can¡¯t talk to you about. They''re trusting me with something not entirely bullshit, so I¡¯m trying my best not to fuck it up.¡±


    [Verdict so far?]


    ¡°Touch and go.¡± She pulled a face and looked beyond me to the city. ¡°I¡¯m pulling my weight, but lots of cogs in the clock, or whatever the metaphor is.¡±


    I nodded. Found myself hoping that things did work out for her. Trying to will her to leave so that the imminent question wasn¡¯t asked. Her attention left to city and came back to me. I held my breath.


    ¡°Thanks again for setting up the security.¡± She leaned forward to place her mug on her chair, before righting herself and stretching her back out. I wondered if she had to work out a lot to maintain her muscle mass, or if she had it innately just from being a strength super. ¡°Will rest a lot easier tonight. You tested it?¡±


    [No, not yet.]


    ¡°I¡¯ll hop out that way then - just wave at me if it pings on your system, okay?¡±


    [Certainly. Good luck at work.]


    She paused, halfway in getting ready to leap out of her garden. ¡°Oh, thanks.¡± For whatever reason, my well-wishes seemed to either confuse or unsettle her. Not for long though, as she then leaped away through the air.


    Turned my head to watch her land a few hundred feet, and then she started walking.


    Detection.


    A quick notification popped into my vision before a faint overlay of the sensor layout appeared, a red dot over by the road area. I held my gun arm up and waved to her. She waved back. Joy. Envelope icon.


    I got a notification. Sensor 63 seems to be the road one. Cya! X


    The orange figure once again leaped an impossible distance into the air and was off toward the city.


    She clearly didn¡¯t have the same sort of tech to see the map layout, but it was handy to know that sensor number just in case I lost my eye or something.


    I sat in silence for a few minutes. Somewhat glad she didn¡¯t ask about the party tomorrow, but then again, also somewhat annoyed. She was acting under the assumption that I would agree to turn up, which was unfair¡­


    As she was right.


    But... not to fulfill my duty as a neighbor or start bonding as friends. Putting aside my disdain for both heroes and social situations, it would be beneficial for my work if I could make contact with Clara. There just weren¡¯t many other opportunities for me to network with people who could work with my cybernetics. Not anyone I could trust with my safety. League assholes might be jerks, but they were supposed to have morals at the least.


    The fight against Skyblade just hammered home that I was in an arms race to keep up with trouble that had now started circling me like hungry sharks. I had gotten off easy the last few years in being able to avoid them all¡­ but that ship had now sailed, and it was taking on water.


    I sighed and stood from the deckchair, my eyes going over to the large motorbike still where I had left it a few days back.


    It was time to go get my reward, and hope the city didn¡¯t try to grind me between its sharp teeth this time.

 19 - Show and Tell

    Three. Nine. Two.


    The digital locker accepted the given number with a beep and bloom of a green light. Small door popped open and I could retrieve the metal case from within. Much smaller than I had been expecting. In my eagerness to busy myself, I had gotten to the location a little earlier than planned.


    Sun hadn¡¯t quite set, but late dusk still had all the streetlights on. Dim blue light illuminated me, casting a wide shadow against the set of secure lockers.


    Trouble was, I also had some eyes focused on me.


    Clocked them as soon as I pulled up, but I wasn¡¯t about to turn tail from a group of thugs. Hidden ten-mag full of normal shot on the bike, but otherwise I was unarmed. Well, ignoring the two Sanguine stakes on my belt, but I wasn¡¯t about to murder anyone. For a change. I recognized the group based on the outfits they wore. Red hoodies and jackets with a white face mask that covered their mouths. Yellow lines drawn around their right eye.


    Sons of the Sun.


    Just an average lower-tier criminal group. Nothing to be too worried about - they were probably just staking out the lockers to see if there were any easy marks before the sun set. The fact that my appearance and mode of transport turned heads meant I had gained their undue attention, even despite not looking like I was easy to shake down.


    As I turned with case in hand, it appeared that they left their common sense back at home today.


    Three of them on the opposite side of my bike, checking it out. Two on this side, facing me. Another four off to the right waiting for their cue to step onto the main stage depending on how this played out.


    ¡°Got something nice there, big guy?¡± The closest one tilted his head and gestured toward my held case with a bar of metal in his mitts. Designated face of the group, at least while it remained unbroken. I had zero patience for these sorts of games.


    [Just photos of your mother engaging in dubious acts with farmyard animals. Step aside or I¡¯ll make you squeal just the same.]


    This vocalizer was a curse.


    Despite being the one partly made of mechanical parts, it seemed my outburst short-circuited the man. Verbal taunts were normally beneath me¡ªnot just because I wasn''t able to speak until recently¡ªbut I was keen to get to the end scene of this encounter. Thugs like this would either scurry away like rats at the first show of strength, or we would eventually wind up brawling.


    I called their bluff.


    ¡°What¡­ what the fuck did you just say? Sack of flaming¡­¡± His fists clenched around the rebar as his eyes narrowed.


    ¡°Not sure that¡¯s a good idea,¡± one behind my bike butted in. ¡°This is a Five Eyes bike.¡±


    A wave of murmurs went through the group of criminals.


    ¡°So what?¡± The apparent leader shot his accomplice a scowl before eyeing me up. ¡°Cyclops is behind bars, and the wizard hasn¡¯t been seen for a bit. This guy clearly isn¡¯t part of them.¡±


    ¡°That just means¡­ if he has the wizard¡¯s bike...¡±


    I took a step forward to my vehicle, causing them all to snap attention to me and tense up. At least one of them had a functional brain, although for how long that would last would be determined by the one with the big mouth.


    [You have one last opportunity to leave me be. There¡¯s plenty of room in the shallow grave next to his body if you are such big fans.]


    That was enough to get them to the point of wavering. Gave them an ultimatum. They¡¯d have to choose which path they wished to tread. I¡¯d much rather just go home, but after everything I¡¯d been through, I would not be bullied by petty criminals armed with melee weapons.


    With one look toward the fading sunlight, the leader made up their minds for them. My lense gave me the heads up even if I hadn¡¯t seen the mood change across his face.


    Threat Level 3.


    Made sense given that they were baseline humans waving sticks around.


    The leader burst towards me, eager to be the first one to make me pay for my terrible dialogue choices. His wide swing clanged off the side of my gun and I took a long step in toward him to clock the side of his face with my elbow. Spun in place to strike the next approaching goon with the held case. Hopefully the contents were less fragile than his head.


    Blocked a bat with my left forearm and lashed out with my foot. A jab of my muzzle and another was sent rolling across the sidewalk.


    Perhaps I¡¯d need to start packing my Smoke shots too. One of those and I could have made my escape - or something that could make a cloud of tear gas. I was running the risk of turning into a walking armory, but maybe that wasn¡¯t the worst thing. There were a couple of bandoliers in a crate, I was certain.


    An elbow joint bent back the wrong way, and then another was knocked out with a heavy thud from my weapon. The rest lost their nerve and ran for it, leaving a handful of wounded on the floor.


    I stepped over and lifted the groaning leader up by the scruff of his hoodie.


    [I¡¯m going to keep an eye on you and your gang. Turn a new leaf, otherwise I¡¯ll be turning you into pig feed. They have quite the appetite after they¡­]


    A long sigh escaped through my filters. This was wasting my time, and the rough language wasn¡¯t really my style. Dropped him to the floor and walked to my bike. Been given the gift of speech and this was how I used it? Shaking my head, I put my case away and straddled the seat.


    Gave a glance to the gang I had dismantled in short order. Just a bunch of young men falling into crime to escape bad circumstances. They were recovering and banding together to tend to each other. A little more compassion than you might expect from a gang, but it was likely they grew up in the same area.


    [Apologies. I am currently stressed out and should not have taken it out on you all. I¡¯ll send for help, but I mean what I said.]The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Rolled my head around on my neck and settled into a comfortable position - which wasn''t easy with a thought needling at my brain.


    [Message Roxy. Are there any rehabilitation groups for petty gangs? Send.]


    Hit the switch and the motorbike roared into life. Time to get out of the city. The sooner I could get home, the better.


    It wasn¡¯t three blocks before I got a response from the super.


    There¡¯s the Goldarch Golden Opportunity Project, but they¡¯re financially motivated. Wouldn¡¯t rate the charities well for actual results unfortunately. Why, what¡¯s up? X


    [Message Roxy. Send them and some medical personnel to the following coordinates. Forward me the bill. Send.]


    I only had to look in the mirror to know that the city had a problem with crime. My life revolved around taking out the trash in some way or another. The fact that there were a small army of supers under the League, alongside the cops and other private security forces - and there were still so many problems either spoke to one of three things - ineptitude, corruption, or ignorance of a greater issue.


    Would I feel better about what I did, knowing that I gave a handful of thugs another chance to live a life more productive and acceptable to wider society? Not really. I didn¡¯t do it for notoriety or in hopes of scrubbing away some of the sins my very being was soaked with.


    I just didn¡¯t want there to be more people like me roaming the streets.


    Less danger. Less violence. Less fuel for the fire constantly raging between heroes and villains.


    A drop in the ocean, but if I was about to hobnob with some supers, then perhaps having a smudge of a good deed at the top of my list might make me more palatable. Doubtful.


    Okay, done. Should I ask? Switching careers to Post-beatdown Philanthropist? (One of the few other long words that I know - lucky you). x


    I let the message sit there for a few minutes as I swerved between streets on a slightly more scenic route toward home. Some traffic, but by now I was near the edge of the outer rim where there wasn¡¯t anything residential and the commercial buildings had long closed. I sighed.


    [Message Roxy. I¡¯ll attend your housewarming, don¡¯t make me regret it. Send.]


    Pretty sure I already did. I needed that potential source of tech, however. If that meant biting my non-existent tongue while a group of heroes figuratively stroked themselves off over hotdogs and beer, then I could survive that. I wouldn¡¯t be physically harmed, so it¡¯d be a nice change from the usual hardship I put myself through.


    I still paled at the thought of being called a sidekick, but it was possible that it was the only cover that made sense for my presence. It¡¯s not like I really fit in anywhere. A pair of speed bumps jostled me, and I winced at the thought of having to actually make small talk. Where would I even begin? The hope was that Roxy had at least prepped them with some basic information about me.


    Not sure why I was putting so much faith in this woman that I barely knew. She¡¯d managed to flip my life upside down just by being relentlessly nice to me, even when I was rude and dismissive. Wasn¡¯t sure whether that said more about me or her.


    City streets fell away to dirt road and then finally gravel.


    A ping in my lense as I tripped the road sensor, and then a second for the perimeter surrounding our houses. I was content enough with the minimal delay between sensing and it telling me. Bike shuddered as it powered down and slid to a slow stop in the loose dust outside my¡­ current hovel.


    Withdrew my prize from the side compartment and turned to look at Roxy¡¯s house.


    She had hidden cameras set up. Too far a distance for my aura to take them offline, but something else clicked around in the rusty part of my brain. I had made the assumption that they were for her personal safety¡­ but what if the League had a connection? With my brow furrowed, I slowly walked to my house. Considered the implications.


    It would be a simple matter for them to erase me. Any one of the participants of the mandatory party wouldn¡¯t break a sweat in dealing with me. Still, even if it wasn¡¯t something worth me worrying about, I wasn¡¯t a fan of being spied on. If I managed to survive tomorrow, then perhaps I¡¯d start digging into what I believed was something the super had been hiding from me.


    If it was nothing, then we¡¯d just continue deckchair chats between my murder contracts. Exist an odd life with an odder¡­ friendship? No, wasn¡¯t that far along yet. Tomorrow I had to pretend to be her subordinate, but I couldn¡¯t imagine us fighting corruption side by side.


    Traps off. Into the room as the light clicked on. Maybe it needed replacing, as it looked dimmer than usual. Nevermind. Sat down at the workbench and turned the spotlight to the case that I set down. Had a slight line of either blood or gangster spittle, but the integrity of the box itself was fine.


    About 8 inches square. Metal and rather flat. Maybe a handful of Sanguine stakes? Didn¡¯t have any wine to bring to the party so¡­ No. Shouldn¡¯t go armed, unless I wanted to invite danger. Which, with a room full of supers more powerful than Skyblade, I did not - for a change.


    Clasps opened, I clicked the lock and opened it wide.


    Somewhat disappointing at first glance. A single chip. Flat and rectangular. Bright gold with the shape of a five-pointed star embossed on one side. An upgrade to my STAR device? Not really¡­ practical in a violent sense, but there might be some benefit.


    Pulled back my sleeve to fully expose the device embedded in my left arm. Along the top edge adjacent to my skin, I needed to peel back a rubber cover. The current chip sat within and I¡¯d have to press that too, to eject it.


    Two minutes were spent just staring at the situation. Not exactly a great position for me to make any changes. At this stage, I wasn¡¯t too prideful to ask for help, but Roxy was out working and would need her sleep when she returned¡­ for tomorrow.


    I turned my gaze over to the various clamps and tools I had tidied away on my workbench. Something could be done. I was too impatient to wait until morning to find out what Boss had blessed me with. And so, I set up a vise with a thin metal tool to pry the rubber grip away from the device. Pressed the protrusion of the old chip against something softer and it clicked out on a small spring. Ejected to the workbench and then I pressed the new one in, able to reverse proceedings with little more than some patience.


    Loading new System, it told me.


    A process it promised would take a handful of minutes - or an hour. The estimation jumped to thirty-eight days at one point, before going back to five minutes. Not an exact science.


    The last wave of lethargy from my recovery decided now was a good time to hit - which was acceptable. Better I get a good rest before the stress of the housewarming party. Part of me still hadn¡¯t come to terms with the fact I had agreed to it. I turned and replaced the cannister in my neck with a fresh one.


    Being unable to eat and drink made me an odd guest. Paired with my lack of social graces and¡­ well, it would be interesting.


    Went and sat on my mattress. Light in my kill room went off, leaving the underside of my re-breather and goggles illuminated by my STAR device. A minute of staring at the little moving bar and then it was done.


    Eyes scrolled through the new version text. Screens of digitized words came and went as new knowledge settled down in my mind. Terms accepted. Connectivity updated. Backups restored.


    I could now use my STAR device with the power of my mind, much the same as my gun-arm. There were other modules currently disabled, as I didn¡¯t have cybernetic eyes or ears¡­ but it located and interfaced with my lense, allowing me to read from a basic digitized display rather than having to look at the device itself.


    Encrypted messages were now arranged more like a chat function, allowing me to see a short history of prior conversation. I noted that Roxy had sent me a message while the update was pending, so this seemed like a good opportunity to test the new STAR System.


    W: I¡¯ll attend your housewarming, don¡¯t make me regret it.


    Roxy: Ah, if only you could see my face! x


    Roxy: You won¡¯t regret it, I promise x


    I wasn¡¯t actually sure what to say to that. Best I save any small amount of strength for the next day, and dealing with the aftermath. My hopes weren¡¯t high.


    Settling down into my bed, I closed my eyes and allowed peace to wash over me. A bland and boring darkness, not prodded at by errant thoughts or confusing dreams. Relaxing - a needed rest.


    Something that was popped like a bubble an unknown time later as my door slammed open, waking me with a jolt and surge of adrenaline.


    I rolled to the floor, gun-arm up as scathing daylight burned at my eyes from the opening. V-Force charging as I took in the figure standing silhouetted in the threshold. Roxy in her super suit. Stress and alarm had her brow furrowed.


    ¡°Come quick, Dubs - it¡¯s an emergency!¡±

 20 - Adventuring Party

    My head was still swirling around, my waking brain not quite ready to split the difference between my sleep and the surprise awakening of Roxy bursting through my door unannounced. Danger had loomed, and she required my assistance - but the sensors hadn¡¯t gone off. My eyes darted to my drum mag.


    [What is it?]


    ¡°They¡¯re going to be here in an hour and I am fucking up the cooking.¡± She grimaced, her face a shadowed painting of pure panic. ¡°I am freaking out.¡±


    I stood for a moment, briefly confused - and considered whether hitting her with an empty V-Force blast would even do anything to her. Couldn¡¯t even relax from my ready pose just in case this was some manner of ruse. It¡­ had to be.


    [You¡­ came to the wrong house for culinary advice.]


    She growled and stepped out of my doorway and into the sunshine, hand up to her face.


    My re-breather rattled out a sigh. Seemed it had started already. Finally able to allow my body some movement, I straightened up and lowered my gun-arm. Quickly grabbed a fresh cannister from my workbench before I followed her out.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Dubs.¡± She pulled a face before putting her hands on her hips. ¡°Hospitality is kind of a big deal in my family. Even if I¡¯m not a fan of our guests, I still don¡¯t want to mess it up.¡±


    Ignoring the fact that she referred to them as ¡®our¡¯ guests, I could understand her angle. She¡¯d proven her disposition since the day she had landed here, so the importance of this event was clear.


    Against better judgement, I put my hand on her shoulder.


    [You are a better host than they deserve, Roxy. I have full faith in you.]


    She pulled a face and tried to grab hold of a reply that I assumed was either going to be disgust or something sarcastically thankful for my overdone attempt at sympathy.


    ¡°Thanks¡­ that¡¯s actually really sweet coming from-¡±


    [But if you wake me up in such a manner again with such a weak excuse, I will find out how much punishment you can take.]


    Probably resist everything I had aside from the stakes, assuming she would stand around long enough for me to load a magazine, anyway. I was sure to get a good sleep after she mashed my brains through the back of my skull for the effort.


    Her mouth opened and closed, while her eyes narrowed as I moved my hand from her. ¡°I¡¯ve got too much going on to try to process that right now. Oh, that reminds me though¡­¡±


    She popped something into her hand from the side of her belt and pressed it against my chest. ¡°Prick! Oh.¡± She pulled another face. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t get that reference. It¡¯s what we used to say when we put a badge on someone. Now that I say that out loud, it just seems like a made up excuse.¡±


    Her hand withdrew, and I saw that there was a round ceramic disc now on the fold of my fabric.


    ¡°Maybe cover it if you can.¡± Roxy crossed her arms. ¡°There was no point asking you to bathe, so this is the next best thing. Neutralizes your stank aura of death, but the poor thing will only last two hours tops. That way, you can clear the room if this bullshit drags on for too long.¡±


    [Glad to be of service.]


    ¡°I¡¯m being a shit again, sorry. After you successfully reassured me, and then either promised me violence¡­ or a good time.¡± Her head tilted to the side.


    I looked out to the wastes, the gleaming pile of motorbike wreckage catching the morning sunlight. Not the most subtle of graveyards - the supers might catch who they used to belong to if they knew their gangs well enough. The intact bike was even more overt.


    [Often violence is too much of a good time.]


    My eyebrow raised as I looked back at her. She seemed confused, but I didn¡¯t think I had been speaking in riddles. Maybe my brain was still getting in proper order as much as hers was too flustered with the need to prepare for the party. I needed a new cannister.


    Roxy shook the thoughts from her head. ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to go back to fucking up the kitchen. At least I don¡¯t have to cater for you, huh? Ah, I need to shut my mouth.¡± She turned and deflated. ¡°Come on over whenever you¡¯re ready, Dubs.¡±


    I watched her leap away, expertly landing by her front door to rush to her cooking attempts. When I was ready? There was still part of me screaming at the prospect of this actually happening. Still dreaming? No. I looked down at my arm. Most of the time when I dreamed, I had both my arms again - odd, since I had no active memories of a time when that was the case.


    Shook my head and gave in to the inevitable. Popped out the empty canister and let it drop to the loose gravel. Crushed it beneath my boot as I clicked the new one in with a short hiss.


    I had little else to do to get ready. Arranged the folds of my green swaddling so that my anti-stink device was obscured. Now I just looked like a wasteland-freak. Still, wasn¡¯t here to make friends - just work with Clara and provide moral support for Roxy.


    Although, that second point hadn¡¯t crossed my mind until this morning. I narrowed my eyes, moving them between her house and mine. Even as we grew more cordial, I hadn¡¯t thought I¡¯d be someone she¡¯d turn to for reassurance. Wasn¡¯t even able to lend a hand with her preparations. Was there an ulterior motive? Perhaps. But then I might just be being over cautious again¡­ I was rarely wrong, however.


    Most likely, it was just to ensure I actually showed up. Waking up only an hour before the rest touched down might be rude to someone like her. I had been ready in less than five minutes, so seemed fine to me.


    I sighed and started to walk over to her house, making sure to close my kill room door and turn the traps on. No ammunition whatsoever. Would definitely be a faux pas to turn up to a party fully loaded. Not that I¡¯d be able to take on a group of supers.


    As I stepped over the grass, wondering how it stayed alive out here, I noted that I had been quite aggressive with my vocalizer use lately. First in making a rude comment to the gang, and then in threatening Roxy. It was something that seemed both unlike me, yet also summed up who I was to a fault.


    Less that I was naturally abrasive or threatening, but more that I was choosing to use words just as I would my different ammunition types. Any attempt to rein in my ego and remind myself that¡¯s how talking worked for everyone was quickly swept away as I reached the open doorway of the super¡¯s house.


    ¡°Make yourself at home. Just¡­ no killing people. No kill rooms!¡±


    I rolled my eyes and stepped into the shade of the interior, a turn to the left and there was a dining room set up. Plainly decorated, all things told. A white wooden table in the center with six chairs around it. Some wicker shelves and cupboards in an equally rustic tone. Framed painting across one wall - some manner of antiquated farming machine working its way through fields of grain.


    Well lit from two window-laden doors that led out onto a back patio. My expression dulled at this¡­ home. As if it could be blamed for being better at its role than my own shack. With my left hand I took one of the chairs from the table and moved it over to the wall to sit.


    No chance I was rubbing elbows with the supers. I¡¯d rather look like an out-of-place bouncer, or a punished child.


    Roxy poked her head around the door, some flour on her face. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s cute. If that makes you comfortable, that''s fine. No pressure, it means a lot that you¡¯re even here¡­ I know we aren¡¯t close, but it¡¯s nice to have a familiar face, you know?¡±


    [I don¡¯t have to do anything other than exist, correct?]


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She ducked back toward the kitchen, but her voice continued. ¡°It would be swell if you got on well with them, but I''m not expecting miracles. I might have to see them often, but you won¡¯t.¡±


    [And about this¡­ sidekick business?]


    ¡°Tell them¡­ oh shit, you probably want to think up a cooler name and backstory as well.¡±


    [Is ''Dubs'' not disparaging enough to be a codename?]


    ¡°Just tell them we met because of your knowledge of the wastes¡­ and we haven¡¯t done the trial yet, so you¡¯re provisional.¡±


    I grunted. Wasn¡¯t sure I liked any of that. If we were smarter, then we¡¯d have come up with something more concrete. As far as I understood it - I was a nobody until I completed the trial. That said, I had clocked that my new STAR System included some manner of search¡­ so it might clarify some of this.


    Using my mind, I typed out the message to send. It was an odd process that had the familiarity of working my gun-arm, but some more complexity. Needed to get the synapse-memory in place to make it comfortable, I guessed.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Search: What is the process to become a League approved sidekick?


    Result: Individual must complete a trial, where their intended hero takes them on a LoH designated mission. Should the individual survive and perform adequately, they may file to be officiated by the League of Heroes - which involves further tests and paperwork.


    Disgusting. Well, the ability to grab exposition from the void was actually very useful - although I wondered if it used the same encrypted network as my messages with Boss. Unlikely, but besides the point. Being a sidekick sounded terrible, and I¡¯d rather be bleeding out in a ditch from a failed hit than be beholden to the League and their rules.


    My thoughts were broken as a low droning noise started to grow in the background.


    ¡°Shit, so early!¡±


    A helicopter, it sounded like. I suddenly felt very antsy, as if this group of supers had been put together to kill me off. Trapped, without any useful weaponry. I knew this to be a useless line of thought as any one of them could take me out in most situations¡­ unless I was smart. Currently, I wasn''t feeling too on my game.


    [Is it Clara?]


    ¡°No. It¡¯ll be Wren.¡±


    There goes my hope of getting out early. Stressors were much easier to deal with when you could just fill them with the screaming dismay of an arm-mounted shotgun. I sat tense as the helicopter landed and powered down. Footsteps slowly came closer, before boots stepped on wooden floorboards.


    ¡°Hey Wren, go ahead and make yourself at home. Will come out soon!¡±


    Stomach muscles tensed up as the figure came into the living room.


    An elven woman with radiant blonde hair braided into a long ponytail stepped in, staring at a mobile device. Something on it was clearly annoying her, as her brow frowned over bright blue eyes. Athletic, and her super suit was in similar blue hues. On her back was a modern longbow in ivory and bright silver.


    Her eyes didn¡¯t leave the glow of her held device as she strode over to sit down. ¡°You must be the potential sidekick, huh?¡±


    [Dubs. Pleasure to meet you.]


    ¡°Neat robot voice.¡± She gave me a brief glance. ¡°Oh, a cyborg. Uncommon these days for our line of work. Hang on, just need to take a call.¡±


    I sat as patiently and politely as I was able. Given my appearance, I doubted I¡¯d win any awards for my hospitality, but anything that didn¡¯t involve immediate and overwhelming violence was rather alien to me. It was curious that she could still use the device while I sat here... but perhaps there was another network that I couldn''t block? League or something else encrypted?


    Wren held the device up to her ear and rubbed her eyes. ¡°Hun¡­ Flynn. I told you to sell the Gob-2 stock three days ago, you¡¯re shitting away money¡­ No, Gob-2¡­ What do you mean you thought I meant¡­ ugh? Just do it today, okay? I¡¯ll be watching.¡±


    With a sigh, she placed the device face down on the table and drummed her fingertips on the back while her glare turned toward me.


    ¡°Wren. Heiress to the Yewvale Corp fortune. Married to a living limp handshake, who is the heir of the Kinrail Corp fortune. Queen of resting bitch face and somehow I also have the time to be a superhero when I¡¯m not micromanaging two businesses.¡± Her spiel delivered, she flipped the device the right way up and started tapping at it once more.


    My eyes went over to the bow now resting against the wall. While it made sense for a hero to be fully equipped at all times, it still unnerved me. On the plus side, the elf seemed pretty straightforward and knew what she was doing - which was now mostly just ignoring me to focus on her flailing husband. Still, was it now my turn to talk about myself?


    [I shoot things with my arm.]


    She nodded, but didn¡¯t seem to be particularly listening. A relief, as that was possibly the stupidest thing I¡¯d ever said.


    The day was young.


    Roxy stuck her head around the door. ¡°Hey Wren. Can I get you a drink?¡±


    ¡°Just a water is fine.¡±


    Our host turned her overly energetic eyes over to me. ¡°Could you give me a hand, Dubs?¡±


    I nodded and vacated the room at a near sprint. Around the corner and into the kitchen¡­


    It looked as though a bomb had hit it, and there were no survivors. Roxy looked manic, as if she was about to tear the house in two and try to start over.


    ¡°Just need to vent a little,¡± she hissed. ¡°You¡¯re my lightning rod, okay?¡±


    [Okay.]


    Not that I was entirely sure what that meant. At this stage I had accepted I was mostly a prop for the event, so was likely to accept whatever anyone said as long as I could just nod along and survive the day.


    ¡°You¡¯re twice as nice to be around when you don¡¯t reek,¡± she said, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm. ¡°I swear I¡¯ll get you in a bath one of these days.¡±


    [As long as it is not today, then I might be swayed.]


    It was unlikely, but my white lie seemed to cheer her up and push some of her stress off of the overburdened shelf in her mind.


    ¡°Careful, otherwise you¡¯ll just distract me.¡± She grinned and turned to grab a glass to fill with water. ¡°Go pass this over for me - I¡¯m trying to finish up as quickly as possible, so you¡¯re not having to be my greeter.¡±


    [I haven¡¯t died yet.]


    ¡°You¡¯re a doll, I owe you big time.¡± She waved me away so that she could continue. ¡°As soon as Clara is here, you¡¯re dismissed.¡±


    Promised salvation. I could live with that. Leaving the warmth of the kitchen, I stepped back around into the living room to deliver the glass. Placed it gently on the table and then returned to my chair.


    ¡°Thanks, Roxy,¡± the elf murmured as she glared at her device.


    A sharp hiss came from outside, followed by the grinding of stone. Dust and debris washed into the doorway of the room, just before someone stepped into the house.


    ¡°Asshole!¡± Wren scowled out of the doorway at the figure I couldn¡¯t see from this angle. ¡°Don¡¯t make a mess.¡±


    ¡°Not my fault we¡¯re in the wastes,¡± a male voice came from the entrance. ¡°Hey, Rox. Smells great.¡±


    The man stepped through. Clearly the speedster, Captain Snaps. Short brown hair, stripes cut into the sides. Rough stubble and a goatee. Not the baby-face or clean cut look I had expected from a super. He looked like he just rolled out of an underground fight club, and had a few scars to prove it wasn''t his first time in the ring. Dark clothes in shades of gray with bright red highlights. He cocked his head in seeing me at the side of the room.


    ¡°Wow, a robot butler.¡± He winked. ¡°Rox sure is moving up in the world.¡±


    Wren exhaled through her nose. ¡°Keep your mouth in check, Roy. It''d be nice to just get this over with.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡± The man took a chair at the side of the table so he was directly looking across at me. ¡°In a rush to go home and peg your husband?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, you¡¯re talking too fast again. It¡¯s coming out as garbage.¡±


    Well, this was nice. Not that my expectations had been high at all, but twiddling my thumb while the supers slung mud at each other had me wishing I had packed more explosives. Or, any at all.


    Before the man had a chance to get his tongue in more trouble, there was a crack of thunder outside. It was at this point I had reached my limit, and whatever social battery I was pretending to possess died completely.


    ¡°Hi, Belle, go on through. Everyone¡¯s here.¡±


    ¡°The wasteland is an immoral place to reside. His blessings on you.¡±


    I was certain that if I asked the Captain nicely, then he¡¯d kill me and make it quick. Although, judging by his current expression, he wasn¡¯t too fond of the woman about to step through the doorway either.


    Flowing robes of soft pink and pearl whites, paired with an ornate hat of similar color. Bright pink hair, which seemed at odds with her more conservative flair. Gold bound book under one arm, and a scepter with a large pink stone at the top in her other. She paused one step into the dining room and turned to me immediately. Some fervor in bright green eyes.


    ¡°The sidekick. Things are worse than I had imagined. Tell me, you poor, lost soul¡­ have you heard the divine word of His grace?¡±


    ¡°Trick question,¡± Wren interjected. ¡°Any answer will just get you an earful. No evangelizing at the table, Belle.¡±


    The supportive super rolled her eyes and dismissed me with a shrug, moving to the table to give the distracted elf a scowl. ¡°No surprise a slave to the almighty credit has no soul left for salvation.¡±


    ¡°Nope, you¡¯re right there. Pretty sure you don¡¯t get paid in thought and prayers, though.¡±


    [Can I retrieve drinks for either of you?]


    I stood and interrupted their bickering, more because I wanted to escape the situation than anything. Even a brief reprieve would be nice, and I could count down another few minutes in hopes that Clara would arrive.


    ¡°Oh shit!¡± The speedster grinned at me. ¡°Pretty realistic movements. Any kind of alcohol would be fine, big guy.¡±


    Belle pulled a face as she looked up at me. ¡°How blessed is your water supply here?¡±


    [Probably to a standard you would find insufficient.]


    ¡°Thought as much. That¡¯s why I brought my own - but a glass would be nice, if you have any clean.¡±


    I nodded and excused myself. Paused at the open front door and considered making a bolt for it. The hushed cursing coming from the kitchen drew me back in, even if I had to let out a long sigh before my body moved in that direction.


    ¡°Dubs! I¡¯m almost done,¡± she whispered. ¡°You are a literal angel. Is everything okay?¡±


    A glance around the kitchen and it didn¡¯t look like anything had progressed since I was last in here, and I saw nothing overtly prepared and ready for consumption - but I wasn¡¯t an expert, so chose to not rock the boat. My brain was a few terrible conversations from slopping outside of my ears, and I wasn''t entirely sure I could survive that.


    [They bicker a lot. Captain wants alcohol, and Belle a glass.]


    Roxy pointed a finger towards a couple of cupboards. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re all assholes, but they won¡¯t go any further than talking shit. They giving you a hard time?¡±


    [Not yet.]


    Other than some jibes from the speedster, they seemed to be content with having me as a background character. Suited me just fine. I retrieved the requested items and returned to the dining room.


    ¡°Service with a smile.¡± Captain raised the beer bottle in a mock toast as I returned to my chair.


    ¡°Antagonizing a sidekick is a blight on your soul.¡± Belle shook her head as she withdrew an ornate flask. ¡°I will pray for you twice as hard tonight.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sure you will be ¡®praying¡¯ real hard over me. Provisional sidekick though, right?¡± He leaned back in his chair. ¡°Supes our level don¡¯t really have them, so you must have shown Rox something real special.¡±


    I returned a blank stare. He did a lot of talking with his eyes. Beyond the childish insinuations and wiggling eyebrows, his eyes were cold and dark. Used to violence. He was giving me a test to see how easy I was to wind up. His ego wanted to know how much stronger than me he was. If I realized how much stronger he was.


    ¡°Just saying,¡± he continued, undeterred by my silence. ¡°Strength supers don¡¯t often get lucky in that department, but you look like you could weather a pounding.¡±


    ¡°Roy,¡± Belle admonished, while the elf shot him a scowl.


    [I suggest you cease this line of conversation.]


    ¡°Oh? You suggest? Why, am I hurting your feelings Mr. Robot? Can you even feel, after what she does to you?¡±


    [Show more respect to our host. That is not a suggestion.]


    He wasn¡¯t too keen on my insistence. Dark eyes gleamed like those of a shark narrowing in on its prey. Tongue moved around his mouth, hungry for the taste of my mettle, adrenaline driving him toward an excitement he craved.


    And then he moved. A rush of air swirled around me as he stepped across the room in a second. Standing in front of me, he looked down and sneered. ¡°Or what? What will you do, fuckbot?¡±


    I stood from my chair, rising to my full height. He was around a head shorter than me, but that didn¡¯t seem to bother a man like him who was constantly looking for something to prove. I could see it in his body language. He was begging me to take a swing at him. A little pre-meal entertainment to work up his appetite.


    My first housewarming party. Didn¡¯t really know how these things were meant to play out, but becoming wallpaper paste probably wasn¡¯t the norm. Still, I did need to get some redecorating experience in for my eventual kill room glow up.


    I leaned forward so that my re-breather was closer to the side of his head.


    [Sit down and be a good guest, otherwise I¡¯ll shove my gun-arm so far up your ass the League will assign you as my ventriloquism sidekick.]

 21 - Tech Points

    I had long lived a life of silence. While I told myself that was something for efficiency when doing my work¡ªand a way in which to further distance myself from normal society¡ªit turned out that I just had a warped sense of what was appropriate to say in situations of stress.


    Even with that in mind, I didn¡¯t regret my comment.


    Captain ¡°Roy¡± Snaps hadn¡¯t expected it, that was for sure. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife - and while I was unarmed, I was pretty sure the speedster could retrieve one from the kitchen before I had the chance to think up a parting sentence for this world.


    Instead of immediate retaliation, a wild amusement had illuminated his eyes. A wide grin and subconscious nod, as if I had passed a test.


    ¡°Can talk shit just as good as you take it,¡± he said in a hushed tone. ¡°You might just survive out there.¡±


    I assumed ¡®out there¡¯ meant in the world of supers and villains, rather than the general outdoors - otherwise, I already had been, and currently very much desired to be ¡®out there¡¯.


    ¡°¡­but how well can you take a punch?¡± He continued, the spike of adrenaline almost tangibly visible on his face.


    Threat Level 63.


    ¡°Could you quiet down, please,¡± Wren interjected. ¡°I¡¯m trying to close a deal on 34th King Street.¡±


    Snaps furrowed his brow, blinking away the red rage that was about to have him punch holes in my torso. ¡°34th Kings?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Going to demolish it and rebuild. Contract dispute means we don¡¯t even have to pay the ousted residents that much.¡±


    He licked his lips, attention waning as he turned away to face the elf. ¡°My parents live on that street.¡±


    No Threat.


    The elf shrugged and gestured with her head. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯d best sit your ass down, then. Maybe this pleasant dinner party will satiate my hunger instead.¡±


    Captain worked his jaw, giving me one last glance like a scolded puppy, before turning and heading back to the table. No doubt in my mind that he now held a grudge toward me, for edging his need for violence. Peas in a pod. Belle had been quietly praying to herself, but I doubted it was for my safety. Before I had the chance to sit, my lense picked up something approaching on the road sensor.


    ¡°That¡¯ll be Clara, Dubs.¡±


    It would probably be bad form to sprint from the room, so instead, I turned to the table and gave them a brief bow.


    [You are all delightful, I am thankful to have had this opportunity to meet you all.]


    ¡°Sarcasm is a sin,¡± the pink-haired woman hissed, her eyes still closed as she clutched at her book. The elf just nodded, tapping at her phone, while the Captain gave me a shit-eating grin - still looking over me as if I was what was for dinner.


    I walked out of the house, the sound of hushed swearing still coming from the kitchen. What could she be making to have caused this much issue? No matter, for the stagnant outside air of the wastes was refreshing and I felt free. I turned my head to the road, as the second set of sensors pinged up. The speedster hadn¡¯t registered on them, which was something to remember for later.


    A boxy gray van rumbled across the gravel to come to a stop just outside the perimeter of Roxy¡¯s garden. Engine switched off, and the door opened. A petite woman dropped out the side, drab gray dress with black tights, but with a blue League of Heroes jacket on. As she closed the door to her vehicle, I could see that her outfit had a couple of belts filled with tools and gadgets. Dark skin and a muted, almost silver hue to her short hair.


    ¡°Hey Clara, that¡¯s Dubs - be nice!¡±


    I turned my head to see that the super had tried sticking her face out of the partially cracked kitchen window to deliver her message. When I looked back, I was caught off guard to see that the small woman was now standing a few feet away from me already.


    ¡°Huh,¡± she began, with a soft neutral tone. ¡°She warned me that you¡¯d be a lot smellier.¡±


    Ignoring that part of her statement, I was taken aback by her eyes. Synthetic or prosthetic eyes weren¡¯t that uncommon and were usually indistinguishable from natural eyes¡­ but there had been zero steps taken to hide or obscure the reality of hers.


    Deep gray metal orbs sat in place in her sockets, rings of bright green light looked me up and down in the place of any iris or pupil. A plain, expressionless look on the rest of her face.


    [Sorry to disappoint.]


    ¡°No need. It was inevitable.¡± She turned and gestured to the deckchairs.


    Not quite a doctor¡¯s checkup, but the closest to it in the life I now led. Contract killers didn¡¯t often brush up against normal society enough to have decent healthcare¡­ or maybe that was just me? I was starting to suspect I¡¯d been careless with the brush I painted all killers with, and now looked rather foolish in front of everyone as I was covered in excess paint.


    I sat on the side of the deckchair, unsure what to expect.


    ¡°Is it just your neck and arm, Mr Dubs?¡±


    [Correct.]


    She nodded and withdrew a slim tool from her belt. ¡°Do you consent to me observing your neck cybernetics first?¡±


    [Be my guest.]


    I pulled away the scarf that obscured most of it, revealing it to the open air more than I had in a long time. I wasn¡¯t ashamed of it¡­ the details of my cybernetics were just private. Excluding the overt gun-arm, of course.


    She didn¡¯t say another word, but stepped up closer to me. I noted that the glove on her right hand had some tech in it, as well as a multi-tool that currently extended a small magnifying lense.


    ¡°Hmm. Quite extensive.¡± She stepped around the deckchair to look at the back of my neck. ¡°Surprising, but this is actually custom work. Decent grade, but hard to draw a comparative.¡± I felt a finger prod around the affixed vocalizer. ¡°I¡¯m glad the vocalizer fit. Usually it would be built in to such a replacement already¡­ that said, this amount of work usually isn¡¯t worth the risk doing.¡±


    [Oh? High chance of death or complications?]


    ¡°That, plus the quality of life¡­¡± She leaned from side to side. ¡°Standard C-Class canister and stim ports. Those types of stims are not legal. Higher chance of psychosis and violent tendencies.¡±


    [Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve had those side effects.]


    Clara moved back around to the front and crossed her arms. ¡°Given the custom nature of the work, there isn¡¯t a lot I could do with the base tech there. Cybernetics going from your collarbone, full neck, and up through your mask to¡­?¡±


    [I believe I have my bio upper jaw and nose. Nothing below that.]


    She nodded. ¡°You¡¯d have to find the creator or person who installed it. The ports could be upgraded, but you¡¯d be paying above market rate due to the risk and specialities the technician would require to complete the job.¡±


    [Do you have those speciality skills?]


    ¡°If you have the credits, sure. Just because we are both friends with Rockslide, it doesn¡¯t mean I will devalue my worth. I hope you can appreciate that, Mr Dubs.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d lump Roxy in as a friend yet. Circumstances had pushed us towards that, but it didn¡¯t feel natural or earned. Maybe part of that was just my lack of desire to have any sort of social connections¡­ but I had managed not to get my head removed in the process of meeting people¡­ so far.


    [We¡¯ll talk invoicing once you¡¯ve given me a full once over. And just ¡®Dubs¡¯ is fine.]


    ¡°You¡¯re wearing a HUD lense, but it¡¯s only D-Class so I hope you didn¡¯t pay much for it.¡± She shook her head and sighed. ¡°Apologies, I am being rude. Someone in your position has little choice in what they can get.¡±


    Before I had a chance to grasp at a response that made any sort of sense without giving my lifestyle or employment choices away, Clara had taken a knee and grasped at my gun-arm.


    With little regard for where my head was at, she brought the end of the barrel up to her eye to peer down it.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    [Hey, that is inadvisable. It could be loaded.]


    ¡°No. There is no magazine and you seem too experienced to leave a round in the chamber.¡± She tilted her head to the side to stare past the gun at me. ¡°It is synapse controlled and you have no intention of hurting me, even if it was loaded. You wouldn¡¯t have survived this long doing what you do without fine control over it.¡±


    [How can you tell any of those things?]


    ¡°Rockslide trusts you, Mr Dubs, which is reason enough.¡± She stood and dusted off some mud off her tights. ¡°You take exceptional care of your weapon, which is something I appreciate. However, there is no hiding the amount of wear on some of the parts. Regular use over several years¡­ so I have reason to disbelieve you are just a wasteland guide intending to be Rockslide¡¯s sidekick.¡±


    [I see.]


    Perhaps meeting Clara was a mistake. She seemed to be able to see through my pitiful attempts to hide what I was - and talked more than the group of supers.


    She tilted her head, but her expression didn¡¯t change. ¡°Rockslide told me what you are and do. In exchange for my silence, I would like for you to become my pet project.¡±


    [Explain to me what that entails.]


    ¡°The League blue balls me on getting some actual inventive work done. Despite my aptitude, they say there is too much red tape for me to start working on living subjects. While you still live, I would like to learn from you. In exchange, you will receive updates and maintenance on your parts.¡±


    [At¡­ market rate?]


    ¡°Do not be dense, Mr Dubs.¡± She gestured for me to raise my arm, which I did. ¡°Anything off the shelf would have to be paid for in kind, however, the work I do for you personally¡­ anything bespoke would only incur parts and materials cost at most.¡±


    I watched as she then grasped around at my shotgun, as if part of her glove was measuring out all the dimensions. Perhaps it was. Or it was doing some manner of scanning. I was being offered exactly what I wanted, give or take a few credits¡­ yet I still felt on edge about all this.


    ¡°Overcharge V-Force drive in a C-Class shotgun arm. Acceptable, however - this is odd.¡± Her finger tapped at my elbow.


    [It is? How so?]


    She ran a finger from it, up the rest of my arm, to my shoulder. Fewer layers of fabric around there, but she could tell all of that was part of my cybernetics too.


    ¡°Normally, the elbow would have some manner of release. So that the forearm could be replaced. Either with a different weapon, or with a proper cybernetic hand. Yours is just one piece¡­ which is only really seen on short-life war robots.¡±


    [Are you saying that¡¯s where my arm might have come from?]


    ¡°No. Unless the rest of you is secretly robotic, Mr Dubs¡­ in which case remind me to leave you my number.¡± She exhaled through her nose. ¡°Otherwise, unlikely. Compatibility reasons, for one. The serial numbers are not present, so it¡¯s hard to say where it was procured or how they managed to get it on you. Most likely some ingenuity by the figure who did your custom neck work.¡±


    I nodded, but didn¡¯t have much to add. I¡¯d bled enough to know that I wasn¡¯t just a robot on the inside. Having her number might be useful for emergencies anyway, though - if she intended to be my doctor.


    ¡°Could you power up the drive for me?¡±


    The hum of it vibrated through my arm as I powered up Overcharge before allowing it to simmer back down.


    ¡°Hmm. Recently acquired.¡±


    [Correct.]


    ¡°Excellent.¡± She withdrew a notepad from her jacket pocket and came to sit beside me on the deckchair. ¡°We will start small, Mr Dubs. This kind of thing both requires trust¡­ and you living for an extended amount of time.¡±


    [Somehow I luck my way through both of those things. May I ask you a question, Clara?]


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    I looked back over at the house. There were several questions spinning around my head like a hurricane. Answers that I could loosely pair to them, but nothing that fit exactly to reveal a bigger picture. Where did I even begin?


    [You¡¯ve seen who I am¡­ know what I do¡­ why is it Roxy approaches me as if I were just¡­ Vince from Accounts Receivable?]


    Clara tapped her pen on the page as her cybernetic eyes followed my gaze to the house. ¡°Rockslide is very... you will find that it doesn¡¯t matter what you say to her, she will only judge you by your actions. I believe in part that is why we are her two friends, Mr Dubs. We are straightforward.¡±


    [That¡­ doesn¡¯t change my profession. The acts that I do commit aren¡¯t very commendable.]


    She sighed and shrugged. ¡°I trust that she is a good judge of character. Whether you trust her, or even me, is your own burden to bear.¡±


    I grunted and looked at the lush green grass. Compared to the rest of the wasteland surrounding us, it was overt and garish, much like the super herself. Still, it would be seen as something totally normal in any other place. In this way, it was like my trust.


    Part of me knew she was a decent person, even if rough around the edges. Did her best, even if it did all fall apart. I¡­ didn¡¯t believe she held any ill will toward me. But the whole situation had me on edge. Her moving in here. The need to join her party and seep into her normal life. Plucking from my safe life of solitude.


    Trouble was, on some level, I didn¡¯t hate it. Not entirely.


    [Will you be going in there to join them?]


    ¡°Not if I can help it.¡± Clara shook her head. ¡°Can¡¯t stand the assholes. Did you have to talk to them?¡±


    [Wren is the most palatable, mostly because she ignored me. Belle wanted to convert me to something. The living ego tried to goad me into a fight.]


    ¡°It is likely you will have to go against him eventually. His temper is¡­ well, he is called Captain Snaps.¡±


    [Here I was thinking it was a speed reference.]


    Clara finished writing something on her notepad. ¡°Speedsters are measured on a scale of how many times faster they are than a normal human. A disparaging term for a low-powered speedster is ¡®courier¡¯ due to the work they are likely to acquire when unable to reach the necessary level of a League super.¡±


    [Noted, thank you. More ammunition for my eventual downfall.]


    No doubt I¡¯d blurt it out at the wrong time and pay for my loose tongue with a few high-speed punches. If Clara thought it was inevitable, then I¡¯d have to come up with some manner of response beforehand.


    ¡°Speaking of¡­ you wouldn¡¯t happen to know about a case of missing V-Darts?¡±


    I gave her a shrug, knowing nothing with that name.


    ¡°A few months back. Short, solid metal, with a tech core?¡±


    [You mean¡­ Sanguine stakes? I was not aware they had a core.]


    ¡°Interesting name. I prefer that.¡± Her brow furrowed as she returned my blank stare. ¡°Ignoring for a moment the fact that they were stolen from a League lab, I will describe their function and purpose. Imagine an anti-tank caliber rifle bullet that could cut through any plate, tech, and some super powers like an ice pick, but had none of the explosive aftershock. Or¡­ perhaps you don¡¯t need to imagine, since you¡¯ve used one?¡±


    [We¡¯ll say we are well acquainted. Are you able to get me more?]


    In a rare show of expression, Clara screwed up her face and looked away. ¡°They¡¯re not exactly an over-the-counter prescription, Mr Dubs. Let us start with something simple to get our working relationship off the ground.¡± She tore the sheet of her notebook out and handed it over.


    [Sideloader pack, Maintenance node, Ongoing care? Twenty-five grand.]


    ¡°Any questions about anything on the invoice, or discrepancy over price?¡±


    I raised an eyebrow and looked down at the petite woman. Her impassive eyes bore into me. She seemed shrewd, but competent. Compared to hoping Boss drip-fed me scraps¡­ well, desperate was a long word, but this whole party attendance hinged on me getting new parts and upgrades. This was my ticket.


    [Give me the details and I will pay. What is the Sideloader?]


    Clara gave me a nod. ¡°Essentially a mod that will attach to the chamber side of your shotgun and allows you to side-load a different ammunition type apart from whatever magazine you are using. Best I can get you at present only has three shell capacity¡­ but when I¡¯m sure the League won¡¯t be looking over my shoulder, we¡¯ll talk upgrades.¡±


    Very handy. Would mean putting Tazers in the side when using normal ammo, or allow me to mix in some of my more exotic cartridge types for edge case scenarios.


    ¡°We can do a lot of amazing things together, Mr Dubs - I apologize for being overexcited at the prospect.¡± Her expression hadn¡¯t changed at all. ¡°That your bike back there? May I?¡±


    I nodded and stood to follow her over into my yard, and to the side of my shack where I had at least put the vehicle out of the line of sight of Roxy¡¯s house¡­ even if the supers would have seen it on the way in.


    Clara ran her gloved fingers along the side of the bike, before crouching down beside the guts of it. ¡°Imported RTJ-Mark 3. Mostly stock, although¡­¡± She grunted and shook her head. ¡°Posers, honestly. I assume you don¡¯t want this to be so noisy?¡±


    [The quieter the better.]


    Her hand went in between the bars and exhausts, and with a hiss, a long tube snapped out of place. She dropped it to the ground and narrowed her eyes again. ¡°Aftermarket parts to make it sound like retro-tech motorbikes, mostly for clout or intimidation. Waste of technology.¡± Clara stood back up and gave the central panel a quick once over.


    [Anything we can do to make it slightly easier to ride?]


    She held up her open palm. Unsure whether she was signaling that I needed to pay her or¡­ I slowly put the barrel of my arm in her hand. Small lights on her glove dotted into life as she measured the business end of my money-maker.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get a printed part that will make it easier to rest the end of your arm on the handlebar with more friction. Otherwise, any significant modifications aren¡¯t worth the time spent. In our lines of work, vehicles often bear the brunt of an attack sooner or later.¡±


    [Understood. What do I owe you for that?]


    She tilted her head from side to side. ¡°On the house. Transportation is important, and the city has been slacking in making it available to those in need. The west-end Tram line was canceled due to gang activity, but guess who¡­ no, I should say no more.¡±


    Seemed to me like she was about to implicate the city itself in either encouraging gang activity, or at least showing incompetence in ending it. Both things I could easily believe.


    ¡°You have a STAR System, right? Here¡¯s the digital invoice for everything.¡± She held out a small card of reflective silver. In return, I pulled back my sleeve to expose my device. A little contactless action, and the funds were transferred.


    [Can you do anything with my STAR?]


    ¡°No. Not my field, unfortunately. It would be like getting a chiropractor to do your dental work.¡±


    ¡°Clara? Dubs?¡±


    Any further deliberation was put on hold, as Roxy called us. We stepped back around my house and the super was standing in her front garden holding a plate of something. Looking less stressed, but plenty worn out despite the party still being in its infant stages.


    ¡°Got your fave, Clara. Toast sandwiches.¡± She gestured the plate forward, which the tech took, sitting back down on the side of the deckchair. ¡°Dubs, I got you¡­ some further embarrassment?¡±


    [Joy. Please go on.]


    ¡°Roy thinks you¡¯d be a real good sidekick.¡± She grinned, but her eyebrows were raised in bemusement.


    [The Captain thinks I would make a good bloody smear across the road. He really said that?]


    She nodded. ¡°Used some inventive phrasing to say it, sure - but he implied that you¡¯d put yourself in danger to protect me.¡±


    [Hmm. You were correct about the further embarrassment.]


    Her face was nothing but smiles now. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you two out here, unless you¡¯re desperate to listen to us assholes talk shop. Feel free to grab whatever from the kitchen though, I trust you¡­¡±


    Sentence trailed off as her eyes went up and she put two fingers up to her ear. Any joy and relief over the party drained away from her face, and I raised an eyebrow at Clara.


    ¡°League,¡± she said as monotone as she could, before taking a bite of her toast sandwich.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Roxy hissed. ¡°Why now? Fuck fuck fuck. Dubs, I¡¯m-¡±


    The rest of her words cut off as the Captain zipped out of the house and slid across the grass, soon followed by the other two supers at a more reasonable pace.


    ¡°Well, well, big balls,¡± he said, a twinkle in his eye to accompany the wide grin. ¡°Looks like you¡¯ll get your sidekick trial today. Lucky us, huh?¡±

 22 - Moonlighting

    Despite the swirling emotions inside my skull, I managed to keep a steady hand while I loaded shells into another magazine. I cast a raised eyebrow toward the doorway, where Clara was leaning with her arms crossed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that. I am just as annoyed as you are.¡±


    Her facial expression hadn¡¯t changed at all, so I wasn¡¯t sure how much I believed her.


    [This is something I am forced to do?]


    ¡°You could opt out, but then that would put your cover story into question. Potentials are supposed to be eager as sin to get their trial.¡±


    The panic that had been on Roxy¡¯s face lent credence to this way of thinking about it. If I declined and they didn¡¯t believe I had good reason to, it brought my actual life as a very illegal contract killer bubbling to the surface. Something that would lead to arrest¡­ or more likely the Captain would ¡®accidentally¡¯ end me all over the super''s lawn.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect this to be your house. It looks like¡­¡±


    [A kill room, yes.]


    ¡°No. A kill room should have disposable coverings over most surfaces. Drainage and somewhere to either hang or store bodies. You don¡¯t even have running water.¡± She must have been able to see the look in my eyes, as she gave me a dismissive shrug. ¡°I read a lot of true crime and murder mystery. Specifically, a series that follows a robotic detective where his intellect is only one of his many appreciable assets.¡±


    [I¡­ see.]


    ¡°I tend to over-share when I am nervous, my apologies.¡± She wrinkled up her nose and turned from me to look out of the not-a-kill-room and out to where the supers were preparing.


    As I continued to load my ammunition up, I tried to run my mind over the short briefing Roxy had blurted out for us all.


    Factory district just to the east. Some mad scientist type had been creating clones to build an army. League had finally got the intel and Roxy¡¯s fledgling group happened to be the closest to the scene to run the contract¡­ or whatever they called the missions heroes did. Clara didn¡¯t usually do fieldwork, but her presence meant she could assist with a miniature drone for keeping an eye on us, as well as other helpful logistics from her van.


    She seemed almost as displeased as me about being roped in to this excursion, and had assured me that coming to the party was predominantly for the selfish reason of getting to know me and my tech.


    I could almost believe it was all coincidence, but for as much as I was slowly growing to trust the two women¡­ in the back of my mind, I knew something was up. Too long had I spent in this life having dealt with death and bullshit to ignore when something smelled like bad news. I just hadn¡¯t found the angle yet.


    [There won¡¯t be media or recordings for this, will there?]


    ¡°As a provisional, you¡¯ll be scrubbed from any marketing materials.¡±


    Not entirely convincing. There was also a good reason I didn¡¯t want the League to know about me full-stop. Did I need to update Boss about this? I affixed the mag to my belt and gingerly tried to put one of my found bandoliers over my shoulder - only getting it tangled up around my gun-arm.


    [Ah. Sorry, Clara. Could you assist me?]


    She turned back to face me and gave me a short nod. ¡°I realize this is an uncomfortable situation for you, however your options seem to be playing along or to run for the hills. There is danger in both directions, but you will have Rockslide assisting you¡­ and the opportunity to shoot people guilt-free.¡±


    Not that I particularly enjoyed shooting people - that sort of emotional reaction to the act was a terrible road to tread. Practice was always important, and I wasn¡¯t in much mood for running.


    Clara moved my bandolier into position and tightened the strap before giving a glance over at my crate of ammunition. ¡°What are you taking?¡±


    [Drum full of normal shot. Ten-mag of Tazer. Ten-mag of High Explosive Slugs. Three each of Smoke, Rubber, and Liquid.]


    She bit her lip. ¡°No Shredder or Drill? Surely you have some Flash?¡±


    [I work with what I have.]


    With a glance toward the door, she exhaled through her nose again. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you a secret, Mr Dubs - I usually work with assault rifle or laser weapon variants¡­ but they design so much more interesting options for shotguns. I feel like we¡¯re going to have a very fun partnership.¡±


    ¡°You two ready?¡±


    [Duty calls, I suppose?]


    I grabbed a spare cannister and stim pack before following the tech out into the air. Wasn¡¯t as freeing as before, and I was half tempted to find out how my front door lock could hold up to a whole group of supers. Sanguine stakes on my belt pouch, but I had decided not to mention those.


    Roxy stood with hands on her hips, either practicing a pose for the eventual news clips, or trying to put on a brave face for what was about to be a whole bucketful of shit. "Right¡­ in the interest of all getting there at the same time, we have decided that I will hitch along with you two, and Roy and Belle will go with Wren to the nearest heli landing zone.¡±


    I gave a forlorn look back to where my bike was hidden. Probably would be too overt. I wanted to keep attention away from me as much as possible¡­ so the van was the best bet.


    ¡°We¡¯ll meet you at the corner of 74th,¡± Wren called, as she corralled her two problem children into her vehicle.


    ¡°Shotgun,¡± Roxy hissed, turning toward the van before realizing that might be an odd thing to call out in front of me.


    [Probably for the best. I assume my little device will run out soon enough.]


    ¡°Oh, fuck.¡± She turned an apologetic grimace toward Clara. ¡°We best step on it, hun. I knew I should have gotten more than one.¡±


    Doors opened. We got seated. Door slammed shut like a jail cell.


    I sat in the darkened back of the vehicle, wedged between computers and stacks of tech, as the van shuddered to life. There was an internal struggle where I wondered if perhaps I had died during one of my contracts¡­ the Python might have actually got me? Maybe Roxy had actually killed me in my sleep that night I heard her? It was the only way I could make sense of my current situation without feeling like this was a weird dream.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    The sensors ticked up as we moved away from my place of safety - which had both now been overrun with villains and heroes. I should have fled from the outset and got Boss to relocate me. Right now I could be in bed recovering from some near-death injuries after a contract completed, rather than¡­ heading to a villain¡¯s lair to defeat an army of clones alongside a group of asshole heroes.


    In the passenger seat, the prime antagonist leading me down this path turned her head. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Dubs. I honestly¡­ dragging you into League work was the last thing I intended.¡±


    [I would be screaming in terror but I don¡¯t think the vocalizer is picking up my intention very well.]


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t. I feel terrible. It¡¯s just shooting some people though - and I¡¯ll do most of the heavy lifting for you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Clara interjected. ¡°I am interested in seeing how Mr Dubs performs. My feeling is that he is even more proficient than you alluded to in our many discussions about him.¡±


    ¡°Clara,¡± the super responded through clenched teeth.


    As much as their current conversation was something to note for later, I found myself too preoccupied with the looming assault on the clone factory. Would have been nicer if this was nighttime, but I had waived my right to be choosey a long time ago.


    ¡°Just saying, Mr Dubs has a skill-set that will pair well with yours¡­ if he can keep up.¡±


    Roxy seemed content to grind her teeth at the woman rather than confirm or deny the statement, but I felt as though the tech might be right. Close range strength super with a mid-range support had composition benefits. Depending on how this army was equipped, she might even be able to punch through the whole thing herself.


    [On the contrary, I am keen to see what the great Rockslide is like in action.]


    She looked back at me again and pulled a face. ¡°I can¡¯t tell how genuine that statement is.¡±


    [I see.]


    Her eyes rolled, and she turned back in her seat to face forward. ¡°I sure know how to pick them, huh? I¡¯m glad you two knuckleheads get on at least.¡±


    ¡°Mr Dubs is surprisingly affable and has interesting cybernetics. By the way you described him, I was expecting someone¡­ less intellectual, and more... what word was it you used? Stacked?¡±


    ¡°Clara.¡± The super exhaled. ¡°Did you at least have time to get all the upgrades and shit sorted?¡±


    ¡°Indeed. I am practically giddy at the prospect of what we¡¯ll be able to do.¡±


    ¡°I can tell - it¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve seen you this animated.¡±


    A frown across my brow, I looked between the grinning super and impassive tech. Perhaps I now had a newfound understanding of how Roxy could read my emotion or intent behind some of the terrible things I¡¯d say - although there had been certain times where she had appeared confused.


    ¡°All you have to do is keep him alive for me.¡±


    ¡°Easy.¡± Roxy looked back at me. ¡°You trust me to keep you safe, Dubs?¡±


    An interesting question, and not something I could answer immediately. I looked at the woman, her amber eyes patiently awaiting a response. The edges of stress just peaking past the smile she was putting on.


    I knew for certain I did not trust the other supers in her group. The League, I did not trust. This opportune event where I could be mixed into their problems - also something I did not trust. Forced friendship? Untrustworthy. True intentions, unknown.


    Things had a way of floating to the surface in time. I just had to be patient and continue my existence long enough to find out.


    [I trust that you will not allow me to die.]


    She continued the smile and nodded. Turned back to view the road as we entered the city proper. I could tell that wasn¡¯t the exact answer she was digging for, though - but it was all I had to offer. If she had an ulterior motive for getting close to me, then I¡¯d need to be alive for that¡­ so even in the worst-case scenario, I still trusted her to keep me from meeting my end.


    It was enough of a wet blanket that we continued the rest of the journey in silence. I closed my eyes and tried to think of an excuse to get out of this¡­ but with my bike at home, I wasn¡¯t eager for a long walk.


    Eventually, I just accepted it. Arranged things so that they suited my tastes.


    I was going on a contract, that just happened to involve supers. First time for everything, and the sharp hue of my internal trickery made it hurt my mind¡¯s eye a little less to stare at. Just view it as a kill contract. Mad scientist needed erasing, and I¡¯d chew through the apparent army protecting him to achieve the goal. The reward could be the verbal contract with Clara for a prolonged dose of needed upgrades.


    Yes, that made this all almost acceptable.


    ¡°Mr Dubs, there are earpieces in the drawer with the red handle in front of you. Rockslide doesn¡¯t like it when I give constant directions, so you¡¯ll have to take on the burden.¡±


    [Understood. Am I correct in assuming some manner of plan has been decided already?]


    ¡°Correct. While the current group lacks experience together, the League has trained them in their intended roles quite well.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m sitting here, you know?¡± Roxy sighed and gave in, turning her head to me. ¡°Our job is to be the main meat-grinder. Start at the first instance of threat and kick the shit out of everything. Point A to B. Wren will be taking the outside and keeping an eye on the place to take out runners or watch for anything big picture we¡¯re missing.¡±


    ¡°That information is relayed to me, so I can tell the group.¡±


    ¡°Right. Roy will start by scouting and disabling traps or mechanisms that might slow our progress - but the excitable fucker will get into fighting, eventually. Belle will protect the back to ensure we don¡¯t get surrounded, and we can fall back to her if we need assistance.¡±


    [Remarkably reasonable. I will endeavor to fulfill my role as best I can.]


    ¡°No need to kiss my ass.¡± She gave me a glum smile before turning around. ¡°I got you into this shit, so no judgement on you for whatever happens.¡±


    Be that as it may, I was unlikely to sit idle while she did all the work. Professional integrity would have me doing my best - I couldn¡¯t help that. Another silence filled the van as I leaned over to withdraw the earpiece.


    ¡°Your¡­ Boss would probably be pissed about this, huh?¡±


    I looked over at the super, her tuft of bright red hair gently swaying as the van turned a corner. Did she feel some guilt over potentially souring my working life? It would explain the jilted weight she gave the question. In honesty, I wasn¡¯t sure Boss would like this or not. I¡¯d probably find time between surviving the event and having my face plastered over every magazine to let him know what I had gotten up to.


    [Perhaps only if I died.]


    The van rolled to a stop, and the engine switched off. My internal organs continued to swirl around for a few seconds after, clearly something on their mind.


    ¡°Get Dubs set up with the tech stuff. I¡¯ll go round up the assholes.¡± Roxy popped open the door and stepped out, some of her usual flair missing from her expression.


    Clara made the decision to turn in her seat and clamber over it to get into the back area, instead of going outside to the back doors. With a sigh, she rubbed at her forehead, before assisting me with the earpiece that I was struggling to get into the right place.


    ¡°You know, Mr Dubs. It¡¯s nice to have someone augmented to talk with. Usually people are eager to question me about my eyes, but I feel no such¡­ curiosity from you.¡±


    [Both you and Roxy have been very accepting of how I am, when I usually keep to the shadows to avoid judgement and hatred.]


    ¡°Hmm. Hatred?¡± She exhaled. ¡°Some people hate supers, Mr Dubs. Some people hate women. Some people hate certain clothing styles or individuals who follow specific sporting teams. If someone hates you just because you are built different¡­ well, that says more about them than you.¡±


    The earpiece clipped into place and Clara turned to start flicking switches, lights and screens blooming into life.


    Kind and respectful words, but it wasn¡¯t just my appearance that I thought the common citizen would find appalling. Killing my way through sections of the city¡¯s underbelly was unpalatable to most, even if you could smother it with the blanket of vigilantism. That was a point, though¡­


    [Will my aura have any negative effect on your drone or devices?]


    She paused, her hands hovering over a miniature keyboard, before she turned her head to me. In this darkened space, her green eyes bathed everything is a similar dull light. ¡°Aura, Mr Dubs?¡±


    [Correct. I have something that disables cameras and communication devices within close proximity.]


    Half expecting a continued blank stare, her eyes instead narrowed as she frowned. ¡°Half the van wouldn¡¯t be working if that was the case. Who told you that you had such a thing?¡±


    It was my turn to stare blankly at her. If I had a mouth, I imagined it would have opened and closed a few times, as I struggled to find some words that made sense. My brain worked overtime to try to find answers - going over my past for discrepancies.


    Before I could organize a succinct response, the back door of the van popped open, flooding the awkward cave of confused technology with daylight.


    ¡°Time to go, Dubs,¡± Roxy said. ¡°Let¡¯s see what you¡¯re made of.¡±

 23 - Dance of Death

    I stepped out of the van¡ªmy last place of salvation¡ªand onto the gray sidewalk. We stood in shadow, a little out of sight of our intended destination, all looking somewhere between stoic and apprehensive.


    With a last nod to Clara, I closed the back of the van, a drab signal flare to fully commit to the task at hand. I turned my gaze to see that Captain Snaps had moved up beside me.


    ¡°I should have known you¡¯d be best pals with the toaster fucker,¡± he said. ¡°Been discussing longer attachments?¡±


    [You clearly spend too much of your free time jacking off to old pictures of yourself from when you didn¡¯t look so strung out.]


    ¡°Nope.¡± Roxy stepped between us and put a hand on each of our backs. ¡°Dial it in or I¡¯ll punt both your balls to the moon. Am I understood?¡±


    [Understood.]


    ¡°Yes, Rox.¡± Captain rolled his eyes, but shot me a grin as he walked off to bother Wren.


    ¡°Seems you have a bit of a potty mouth, Dubs. I am surprised.¡± She tilted her head.


    [Still working on my impulse control and certain individuals bring out my worst. I apologize.]


    ¡°Eh.¡± Roxy looked back at the other supers before addressing me again. ¡°It¡¯s not advisable against certain individuals, but I understand you wanting to stick up for Clara. In fact, it¡¯s kinda¡­¡± She paused, the rest of the sentence not forming, before she shook the fragment away. ¡°We¡¯d best focus on the job, okay? Just follow my lead.¡±


    I nodded and allowed her a couple steps head start before I followed along. Perhaps normally she could just leap into these situations, and I¡¯d be slowing her down by having to go on foot. While the idea of her jumping about princess carrying me felt amusing to my frazzled mind, it probably wouldn¡¯t go well for her public image.


    Which was another ice-cube in what was fast becoming a tall glass full of them.


    The League of Heroes would know of me. Have some record of me being here and doing the sidekick act, even if I was scrubbed from public records. It screamed danger, and I¡¯d need to get Boss to advise me as soon as this was all over.


    That thought allowed my mind to jump from that realization to the next - Clara didn¡¯t think I had a supposed aura that could disable cameras and phone signal. There was too much currently going on for me to grasp at some answers that didn¡¯t feel as though they were just based in paranoia or dismissive convenience.


    Had Boss been lying to me? Seemed unrealistic given what I had been through. There would be no benefit to that. So how had I gotten away with so much over the years? The questions popped like swamp bubbles as we stopped with the rest of the group.


    Clara: Connection test. All respond.


    Rockslide: Confirmed.


    PHG-Belle: Confirmed.


    Little-Wren: Confirmed.


    Captain-Snaps: Confirmed.


    Mr-Dubs: Confirmed.


    My eyes dulled at seeing the formal and full names of everyone - especially my own. Clara seemed to use their hero titles - even in private with Roxy. The check-in came as both text in my lense, as well as a robotic voice in the new earpiece I had borrowed.


    While Wren and Belle bickered about something, another message came through.


    //Clara: When you see a message like this, Mr Dubs.


    //Clara: It means it is encrypted - even the League can¡¯t see it.


    //W: Thanks, Clara. Understood.


    ¡°You catch that, Dubs?¡± Roxy stood with a raised eyebrow, seeing that my attention had not been on whatever she had been telling the others.


    //Clara: She said straight through the walls, east side.


    [East side, straight through the walls. I¡¯ll follow your lead.]


    The super smiled and gave me a nod. I wondered how much I¡¯d have to pay to have Clara connect in to my normal contracts. Probably not worth the risk to moonlight when it was the League paying her bills. Still, the worst she could say was no - but a yes would make my life so much easier, and we¡¯d only just begun.


    I watched as Belle recited a short hymn and a burst of energy flooded through the supers. Seems I was unworthy of receiving it, for whatever reason. Wren dropped her bow horizontally - which then hovered in the air. She hopped atop it, a scowl still across her face, and rode it through the air. I assumed then that the helicopter was just for convenience, but my active brain had long packed its suitcase and left the flap on the back of my skull to go on holiday.


    ¡°Ready, Dubs?¡± Roxy¡¯s expression was all business.


    I nodded, and we ran. Now, I wasn¡¯t much for cardio, but I managed to keep a respectable distance behind her as we powered around the corner of the large building shading us. As sunlight washed over us, our target came into view. Not too dissimilar from the Oceano Group building I had fought my way through - it seemed many of the factories were designed or built by the same people.


    Nothing overt that screamed villain¡¯s lair, but that was the point. Tall outer wall that protected the large blocky building inside. Couldn¡¯t quite read the sign out front, but it was powered down as if the factory was giving off the vibe that it was shut. Well, we were about to invite ourselves in and check.


    A rush of air blew past us both as the speedster went around and around the far side of the building along the road, while Roxy was taking us directly toward the nearest wall.


    Her fist wound back just before we reached it, and with a quick punch, the concrete burst away as if it were made of plaster. I followed her through the cloud of dust and falling debris, my boots crunching over shattered defenses, to find her already powering up to do the same to the factory itself. We had approached the long side of the building shaded away from the sun - I assumed just taking a guess that we¡¯d enter some place where shit was happening.


    //Clara: All clear from Wren. Captain and Belle are getting the actual gate open.


    //W: Noted.


    Roxy broke through the wall, and we stumbled into the interior.


    Harsh metal lines and fluorescent lighting within. Medium-sized rectangular room with a large central table. Counters around the left side with a door on the right. Windows covered by dusty horizontal blinds on the wall opposite us.


    Four figures sitting at the table in the midst of eating. Two on the left by a sink and kettle. All wearing a similar blue jumpsuit. Each identical in facial appearance - harsh brown eyes with a heavy brow, pale skin, head shaved down to dark stubble. Across each of their foreheads was a written number.


    One of the few benevolent things Goldarch had passed in law - clones were highly illegal. Although the corpos wanted to push for an ever-expanding workforce, there were just too many downsides to it being widespread that the city didn¡¯t want to deal with. Increases in crime across the board, identity theft, and tax issues - not to mention the actual ethical concerns.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Although I had seen no hard evidence, I was willing to believe these gentlemen weren¡¯t sextuplets.


    Roxy had stepped forward before they had a chance to act, grabbing hold of the table and flipping it against the back wall - crushing and knocking the seated ones out against the stone, shattering some of the covered windows.


    For my efforts, I blew the brains out of the one by the sink, racking a second shell and bursting the second clone¡¯s chest into red ribbons. As the second empty cartridge bounced across the bloodied carpet, the super turned to me with a grimace on her face.


    ¡°You might be surprised to learn that League doesn¡¯t often allow us to kill people. It¡¯s usually subdue and arrest, if it¡¯s not a monster or some weird shit.¡±


    [I have no such reservation in my work.]


    ¡°Clearly.¡± She looked at the two clones leaking their internals about the place. ¡°Not that I¡¯m squeamish, but it¡¯s just a lot more¡­ visceral?¡±


    I found that hard to believe. If I had super strength, then I¡¯d be running up to people with a metal pole and shattering their skulls like glass. Perhaps there was a good reason I had tried to stay clear of the League. I didn¡¯t do well with rules.


    My attention went to the hole we had made through the wall, while I tried to dissociate from the situation I found myself in. A small dragonfly-like drone buzzed in and hovered behind us.


    Clara: Rockslide is in the factory.


    Clara: Captain has disabled the outside security, now moving in.


    A red light bloomed into life just over the door out of here. A digital crackle moved through the air as a voice hissed into our ears.


    ¡°We are under attack, children! To arms! Repel the false heroes!¡±


    Clara: Unable to triangulate the signal source.


    Roxy gave me a shrug and then rolled out her shoulders. ¡°Ready to get this party started then, Dubs?¡±


    [I am sure it will be the least painful of the two endured today.]


    ¡°Ah, you jest.¡± She pulled a face, knowing that I wasn¡¯t. With a sigh, she stepped over to the door and went for the handle.


    A blast of shrapnel blew through it, and she slid back away with her arms crossed in front of her. Despite her bare arms blocking the shot, she had little more than some dark lines across the impact points. Her teeth clenched, still some pain behind the weathered attack. I interrupted her next action by ejecting my unspent shell and replacing it with one drawn from my bandolier.


    She paused as I fired it through the hole wrought in the metal door, empty cartridge popping out as a burst of thick smoke filled the corridor beyond.


    ¡°Thanks, Dubs.¡± With a grin, she grabbed up one of the discarded chairs and dragged it to the exit. She took a quick step and then kicked out at the ruined door - breaking it completely from the wall and sending it off into the obscured beyond.


    A sharp clang as it clearly struck something straight ahead that didn¡¯t appreciate the act. She then stepped out and flung the chair down the right-hand passageway. I slid out beside her, placing two sequential shots down the left corridor. A hand placed on my shoulder told me we were going to head the direction that I had fired, before the smoke cleared and we could admire our destruction.


    Pragmatic to keep moving, I supposed. Normally, I¡¯d stick around to finish the job. The sounds of groaning and one person coughing up some liquid weren¡¯t convincing enough for me - I required silence from my enemies. But I was playing by the League rules, and was here to assist Roxy in doing things her way.


    I led the charge through the smoke. Out into the longer hallway where one clone lay, shredded by my shots. Much further down, another three had gathered, and were arranging themselves into a firing formation with their guns. I fired and slid across the carpet.


    Not enough to do anything but minor damage at this range - but it caused them to flinch and cover their faces. As Roxy then leaped over me, I flung a Rubber shot into the air from my bandolier.


    She caught it from the air with no issue, landing just past me and spinning on her heel. Whipping her hand around, she pitched it like a baseball. The rocketing chunk of thickened rubber struck a clone in the face, completely rupturing their eye socket and pasting their brain matter with shards of bone.


    Before I had a chance to get to my feet, her hand was down to help me.


    I took it, and she yanked me forward, almost tearing my left arm from the socket. Rush of air and I was now sliding across the carpet on my boots. The friction was probably terrible for the wear on the soles, but besides the point. Now I was in better range of the clones.


    First shot took the one standing out, his body convulsing and collapsing against the back wall splattered with blood. Despite tearing grooves through the carpet, my arrival put me close enough to take a couple of steps forward to melee the last of the trio, who looked rather panicked to be dappled with the insides of their equals.


    Barrel struck him in the collarbone with a crack, sending him stepping backward. I followed with an elbow to the side of his head. Grabbed his overalls while he was dazed, and brought him in for a headbutt. Dropped his limp body to the ground and put a shot through his head. Oops, force of habit.


    I turned to the super, to see her eyes figuratively aflame - her usual positive attitude back to illuminate her face.


    ¡°Sure you don¡¯t want a sidekick gig? I could get used to this.¡±


    With a gesture to the next doorway, I shook my head. While I couldn¡¯t deny we were effective together, the gnawing thoughts of those questions that I didn¡¯t want to let out of their locked boxes were playing on my mood. I didn¡¯t care for mystery, and now found myself steeped in it.


    She gave me a nod, perhaps reading my neutral front as a business-only sign, and her smile wavered. As she stepped past over the dead bodies, I looked back down the corridor. Smoke was starting to clear, and the clones who had only gotten away with a light beating would be up to surround us. I glanced at the dragonfly.


    //Clara: Captain and Belle are going to follow your route and will clear.


    At least I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about being surrounded then. My gaze went back to Roxy as she wound up her kicking-foot once more. Well, not surrounded by clones, at least.


    Drum mag ejected at the same time as the doorway jettisoned from the wall. Switched out for the HE Slugs. Not really necessary, given our opponents only registered between 8 and 10 on the Threat scale¡­ but I needed the stress relief.


    Maybe the violence would distract me from the fact that all of this felt wrong.


    Roxy stepped into the room and I followed suit, before putting my hand on her shoulder. A large room full of nothing. Maybe a couple of tool boxes or cabinets around the edges, and cables running here or there - but otherwise devoid of anything but a promising doorway on the other side.


    ¡°Everything okay?¡±


    [Trap.]


    Relatively well concealed. The ceiling painted the area in dim light that didn¡¯t do me any favors, but if there was something I had learned about factories, it was this amount of space was never left empty. Did that mean they expected to be attacked? A knot in my stomach was trying to tell me something, but I had too much on my mind to pin it down.


    ¡°We¡¯ll make our own doorway then.¡± She turned ninety degrees to the wall on our right and put her arm through the stone. Didn¡¯t take her much effort to pull the brickwork away to allow us entry to a smaller room that was brightly lit. ¡°Trouble with lairs is they¡¯re always such mazes.¡±


    I followed her through, into something that looked like a control room.


    ¡°Some kind of¡­ power generation?¡±


    [Uncertain.]


    Behind me, the drone powered through and hovered around the machinery.


    //Clara: Not¡­ generation - but routing.


    //W: Should we destroy?


    //Clara: Estimating¡­


    //Clara: It would either kill all the clones still in vats on the floor below.


    //Clara: Or set them free. As 50/50 as it gets.


    [Feel like gambling? Destroying this will either kill the basement full of growing clones, or let them out to play.]


    ¡°No.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Too risky¡­ although what would you do?¡± Her hands went to her hips as her brow furrowed.


    Probably not stand around debating the merits of every action taken, for one. Ignoring the usual melodrama and dour thoughts that I doused my contracts with, at least I had full control of all the moving parts.


    [Inconsequential. League rules apply. I am to follow only.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a dick. This is me asking you.¡±


    A sigh rattled through my re-breather. It was her asking me, and in any other situation, I would be content enough to take her at face value. There was just¡­ still the feeling like I was being led along a destined route. Fishing line retracting as I followed the bait around, hoping for a taste of something to satiate me.


    [I would take the risk. Either my life becomes much easier, or I will have to fight through something I know I can overcome.]


    ¡°I knew that¡¯s what you''d do.¡± She clicked her fingers. ¡°And no. I¡¯m not about to do it just because you said you would. League rules, you¡¯re right.¡±


    Lights along the panels illuminated with pulses of sharp green. The shifting hum of two of the large cabinet-sized machines beside us changed in pitch. A robotic voice fizzled through a speaker above the rows of buttons.


    ¡°Emergency protocols now active. All clones released. Full armory access granted.¡±


    Roxy pouted as her eyes went slowly away from the panels and up to me. ¡°Probably too late now, huh?¡±

 24 - Alarm Bells Ringing

    As soon as the speaker had finished announcing that all clones on the floor below us were being released and armed, the atmosphere changed. Perhaps it was just the machinery becoming active, or the murmurs of the newly awakened - fresh noises just outside our range of hearing.


    Or perhaps I had just tired of these odd charades.


    [Punch a hole through the floor.]


    Roxy hesitated for a moment before leaning forward and drawing her arm back. With a quick hit, a small opening burst down through the concrete down to whatever was below.


    We watched as the dragonfly-drone zipped between us to sink down into the unknown.


    //Clara: Okay. Imagine me with a shocked face.


    //W: That is¡­ difficult.


    //Clara: That¡¯s how desperate the situation is.


    //Clara: Ballpark.. 100 to 150 more clones currently ¡®hatching¡¯.


    I grunted and let out what would probably be one of many long sighs for the day.


    [Open it up, we¡¯re going down. Possibly a hundred or more.]


    The super pulled a face. ¡°Are you sure? That seems reckless and¡­¡±


    [Our inaction prompted this situation. It is our responsibility to fix it. The others are capable enough to clean up this floor.]


    I was expecting annoyance and push back. Some dialogue about the way the League does things, or maybe even about safety and best engagement practices. Her slight pause before giving me a nod just helped drive in the nail that something wasn¡¯t right here. She shouldn¡¯t be taking orders from a sidekick, even if we were gradually becoming better acquainted.


    ¡°Buckle up then, big guy.¡± She stood with her legs further apart, raising both fists in the air. ¡°I¡­ am not good at one-liners.¡±


    That made a pair of us. Before I had the chance to do anything, she slammed down on the floor. I adjusted my footing as deep cracks ran down the edges of the room, the machinery buckling and tilting at angles. Should have probably asked Clara how tall the basement was. More the fool me if I just signed up for a fifty-foot drop onto concrete.


    Vertigo rushed through my stomach as the floor dropped out, and I resigned to finding out firsthand. Red lights flashed over a general turquoise hue, as vats of colored glass lined a long distance that I had only a split second to peer at before we hit the metal plated floor of the basement.


    I rolled from the wreckage, able to distribute most of the force away from shattering my legs. Not the most comfortable of entrances, but the cloud of debris and clatter of machinery parts was enough of a distraction for me to get my bearings - as I had rolled right into a group of clones.


    In fact, I imagined they had come over to see what had just poked a hole in the ceiling, and the crushing realization had hit them with quite some strength.


    Shotgun barrel went up to the stomach of the one right in front of me. The High Explosive round blew through him and erupted in the one behind, painting both me and the large glass cylinders beside us in bright red.


    A heavy clang behind me as Roxy clocked a guy with one of the dented cabinets, before launching the machinery down the aisle in front of her like a bowling ball. In somewhat convenient fashion, the basement seemed to be a wide path that went around the room in a long rectangle, with vats flanking every step of the route.


    [I¡¯ll take this left direction, you take right.]


    ¡°Got it!¡±


    I twisted away from a clone lunging at me with a grab - instead my left hand took him by the wrist as I turned him from me. Kicked out his leg as I twisted his arm behind his back and then slammed my elbow into the back of his head. Empty cartridge bounced off the nearby glass vat, as I turned back to more approaching me and fired, exploding through a shoulder and into the head of a second.


    We were at the far end of this extensive basement storage area. Their armory must be at the other end, as all the ones coming toward me were unarmed. Still the same overalls and look to them, but something slightly off behind the eyes.


    I knew a little about clones. While I wasn¡¯t much of a reader, I had picked up a few things in my five years. These were ¡®Imprint¡¯ clones. Their bodies were cultivated, fully grown as an adult, and the difficult part was getting the intended brain uploaded. Usually didn¡¯t work out too well, but if you got it right, then it was a lot quicker than growing a clone from the baby stage.


    Seeing as these had been released early, it probably meant their memories or intended function hadn¡¯t been fully uploaded. They still knew well enough how to attack a threat, however. I ducked as one lobbed a discarded tool at me before my boots powered me forward. Like a ram, I slammed him into one of the vats, cracking the glass. Now I was in the back left corner. While he was winded, I grabbed his face and held his head to the glass so that I could look down my intended path.


    Absolutely thick with them. A few hundred feet of nothing but confused and aggressive clones, milling around trying to find weaponry. At the end of this underground area, there were metal stairs leading up to a raised room from both walkway sides - and it looked as though that¡¯s where the armory was located.


    ¡°Rats have invaded the cellar. Kill them with impunity, children!¡±


    The crackling and manic voice once again. Cliche would dictate that the villain behind this scheme was either in the lowest or highest point of the building¡­ which made the necessary four supers seem rather overkill. Ego aside, I was pretty sure I¡¯d be able to solo this. Doubly so if I had the kind of strength any of the group did.


    Arm went up as the first handful of clones charged toward me. They¡¯d managed to open up a cabinet or something that had a variety of makeshift weapons in. Tools or broken metal poles. Anything to give themselves a better chance than using bare hands.


    Overcharge buzzed into life, and I clicked the trigger.


    Fist-sized hole through the torsos of four clones, an increased explosive force detonating and taking another two down in a shower of blood and internal organs. Shell out and new one in. I strode toward the gathering groups.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Could have probably stayed back and kept on firing at the ones in range, but eventually I¡¯d lose effectiveness anyway. Or they¡¯d turn tail and run. Getting myself closer ran the risk of being bogged down in melee, but it also kept them interested in me.


    I rolled across the ground over broken glass as a shot rang out, striking metal plating on a nearby machine. Looked like I¡¯d have to start using the clones as human shields as well. From my crouching position, I emptied out a Slug into the legs of those approaching. Part of me disconnected at this point. A sick joke.


    The questions now screaming in the back of my mind, but I reminded myself to focus on the task. I waded into the fray. Lashed forward with my gun-arm. Broke bones. Shots fired and tore muscle from cartilage. Tripped and crushed them beneath my boots. Ground slick with blood and fragmented clone parts.


    Taken some damage myself, but not enough to even have the stims kick in. Most of their impromptu weapons couldn¡¯t even scratch me through my layers of clothing. Something sharp had cut the side of my head, and I might have taken a pistol shot to the left arm - but I just kept moving. Could start to see the indecision and fear in their eyes.


    Maybe half-way through and to the stairs. Some had organized on the steps ready to have a clearer shot at me. Would be pragmatic for them to just mow through the remaining clones to seal the deal, but their empathy for their fellow brethren was a weakness.


    Clara: Rockslide is in the basement clearing up.


    Clara: Report ground floor situation.


    PHG-Belle: Contained, few rooms remain.


    Little-Wren: Exits clear, have disabled potential escape vehicle.


    //Clara: Rockslide might need your assistance.


    I blocked the swing of a pole with my forearm before jabbing the assailant in the ribs with my muzzle. Instead of unloading, I just lashed out with my fist, twisting his jaw and sending him to the metal plated floor. Rather than continue my dissociated spree, I turned to the side and powered up Overcharge.


    The shot burst through the empty vat, shattering the glass and collapsing the supporting metal struts, even powerful enough to do the same on the other side of the central part of the machinery. With a respectable grunt, I hoisted myself up onto the broken platform created and stepped across to the other side - only just avoiding a hail of gunfire as I rose above all others. I dropped amidst a group of surprised clones as Roxy threw one across the floor towards me. A swift boot to the face had him out for the count.


    [Why are you holding back?]


    I ducked a reckless punch as I ejected the magazine into my hand. Flat edge of my gun-arm blocked the follow-up right before I smashed him in the mouth with the held mag, breaking teeth and sending him stumbling away.


    ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ I¡¯m not like you.¡± Her kick sent a clone rolling away, clearly breaking some of his ribs, before she lifted a second man up and threw him over to the other walkway.


    Although it would be a bad idea to encourage her to go down the dark path I was on, it ground at my gears to see her use her power so inefficiently. Clicked my Tazer magazine in and fired the first shell at the back of the group that was trying to surround her. The disabling jolt danced with arcs of blue, stunning three of them and allowing the super to knock them down easily.


    [The League requires you to only use your fists?]


    With a gut-punch to a clone that probably tore internal organs apart, she stepped over to me during a brief break in the violence where the morale of the clones had started to waver.


    ¡°Sorta, yeah. I don¡¯t know.¡± She shook her hands out and grimaced down at the rest of the room. ¡°Part of being a superhero is playing a role. Tomboy hardass who punches shit, is what is expected of me. Public image.¡±


    [Are you visible to the public right now?]


    ¡°I get your point, Dubs, but I¡¯m not about to pick up a steel pole and start smashing heads apart.¡± There was something else she was chewing on to say, but kept it to herself.


    Her point was reasonable, even if diluted by the fact that she still broke bones and gave people serious internal injuries. Wasn¡¯t even worth mentioning that I had witnessed her destroy the ocular region of the clone she pelted with my Rubber shot. I couldn¡¯t expect her to be any more of a cold-blooded killer than she could expect me to be a dutiful sidekick. That said, I would have to play their little game for a while longer. For as long as I could bear it - which was an hourglass almost devoid of sand by now.


    [Understood. As your sidekick, I will endeavor to tone it down a little.]


    ¡°Dubs, that¡¯s not what I¡¯m-¡±


    We both turned at the sound of alarms. The wide doorways at the top of the metal stairs had started to close as flashing red lights painted the panicked faces of the retreating clones.


    //Clara: Armed clones are heading up, probably to protect the villain.


    Clara: Armed contact ground floor, be advised.


    I turned my head to Roxy as she grunted and pulled at one of the closed vats. With a squeal of tearing metal, she tore it away from the wall, to arrange the metal side of it in front of her horizontally like a ram.


    ¡°Care for an escort?¡± she asked, a wide grin on her face.


    Despite the wavering disagreement on how to approach the wholesale defeat of the clone army, I¡¯d rather get out of here and have this whole thing done than bicker like¡­ well, a super. I gave her a nod and stepped aside.


    Her boots dug into the metal floor, buckling some of the plate, before she launched forward. I followed in her wake as she charged and barreled through the confused groups ahead. It looked as though the clones who weren¡¯t fully cooked had stuck around while the ones with some sense had guns and were on the other side of the almost closed door.


    It was an effective way to travel, and I didn¡¯t even need to finish off the ones she bowled over. They sprawled around the walkway, knocked out or too injured to be a threat anymore.


    I found myself wondering how such a place could grow in the city without anyone finding out sooner. This didn¡¯t even seem like something a super needed to solve. Military could probably clear the clones just as effectively, or a single hero could drop in and find the villain.


    But¡­ maybe I was being too self centered - this was a test for them, not me. Was easy to imagine a narrative that the League had arranged the housewarming so that the supers would be together before dropping the job on them. I was just an unexpected tag-along to what was probably normal League bullshit for them.


    Even as we neared the stairs, I wasn¡¯t quite satisfied with that thought either.


    //W: League knows I am here, correct?


    //Clara: Correct.


    //W: Have they asked anything about me?


    //Clara: ¡­nothing through to me at least.


    //Clara: Focus, Mr Dubs. You¡¯re doing exceptionally well.


    I let any further communication hang. If I were the League, I¡¯d be shouting on all channels, trying to find out who this wasteland reject was, why they didn¡¯t have any records on any databases, and why were they murdering a bunch of clones alongside my supers.


    It was the smoking gun that I couldn¡¯t ignore any longer. There was only so much disbelief I could suspend, and the whole time since she had landed beside my house, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was wrong. I¡¯d reached my limit and wanted away from this madness.


    With a grunt, Roxy threw the dented vat into the last clones gathered on the metal steps. They clattered and fell down amongst the broken glass and bodies of their brethren. I took a quick glance behind us to see that some of the others on the other walkway had been brave enough to circle all the way around to our side, but had been too apprehensive to get close and invoke our wrath. Somewhat sad in a way.


    ¡°Reinforced, but shouldn¡¯t be an issue.¡± She stretched out her arms as she looked at the closed barricade. ¡°I¡¯ll need you for these guys with guns. Seems more of your thing.¡±


    I said nothing, stepping up the metal stairs slowly.


    She sighed, about to tangle with the door without my blessing - but as she went to move forward, I grabbed her shoulder to turn and push her against the thick metal door. Her eyebrows raised as I lowered my hand.


    ¡°Woah, Dubs. If you wanted to get hot and heavy you should¡­¡± the confused smile faded from her face as she looked down at the gun-arm muzzle now pressing just beneath her rib-cage.


    The chamber on the side clacked open and a Sanguine stake twirled in my left hand.


    [You need to tell me what is really going on. Now.]

 25 - Little Leagues

    The red warning light above us continually painted our neutral expressions with a hellish on-and-off as it spun around. Roxy had maintained a glare at me, none of the usual affable nature present on her face. A dangerous calm that lingered for a couple of seconds.


    ¡°You realize I could bend that gun back like a cartoon before you can even load the shot?¡±


    [Perhaps you could. I¡¯m willing to die to find out. Are you?]


    She worked her jaw, her eyes now trying to read me. Maybe she could tell that I probably didn¡¯t have the heart to actually attempt to kill her. I certainly had the feeling that she wouldn¡¯t kill me outright, either. For as much as something terrible was brewing around me, her hospitality over the last few days was definitely genuine.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already apologized for the situation, Dubs. I don¡¯t know what else you want from me.¡±


    Her hand came up slowly and wrapped around the barrel. My Overcharge drive hummed into life, powering up.


    [If that is your final answer, then I will accept it.]


    It meant that I no longer trusted her, and would be relocating as soon as I got back and secured transport for my things. I may have allowed myself to be led along this wild goose chase, thinking that there was some benefit at the end of the line¡­ but I¡¯d play the fool no more.


    ¡°That¡¯s all I have to say,¡± she confirmed. Her fingertips drummed on the end of my gun-arm. ¡°Shall we at least get this over with so we can go?¡±


    I watched as her eyes lingered on me as she turned. My arm lowered and went slack as my body temperature froze up. Heartbeat increased. That wasn¡¯t just an idle beat she played on my muzzle.


    It was a message.


    It felt as though someone had just stepped into my mind and pulled down a section of wallpaper, revealing something murky below. Dust billowed out as memories tried to form. Something painful to a mind shuttered off to my old life¡­ but her intention spoke clear as day, as if it were muscle memory.


    ¡®Comms are unsafe.¡¯


    Not an unspoken language I had used as a contract killing cyborg. Then when, and why? My eyes went back over to the super as she prepared to remove the door in our way. Despite raising new and pointier questions, I found that she had reversed the distrust I had gathered toward her. She truly was strong.


    She had dangled a piece of the puzzle in front of me, but it was face down and the shape was obscured. But¡­ there was the intention there to tell me when it was safe to. Did she know the old me? The questions burned away like a forest fire in my mind, but I¡¯d have to be patient.


    Roxy crouched and put her hands against the metal door, a sidewards glance making sure I hadn¡¯t short-circuited. ¡°You with me, Dubs?¡±


    [Behind you all the way.]


    I caught the slight smile at the corner of her mouth as she turned back. As much as I was now back on board with getting all this bullshit finished off, I wouldn¡¯t go as far as to say I trusted her completely. Just a little more than when it seemed she was entirely in the League¡¯s pocket.


    The drone buzzed up in the air beside me.


    //Clara: I¡¯ll ignore whatever that was.


    //Clara: The others are having issues with the fully armed clones.


    //Clara: Ascending this way will allow us to break through their forces.


    Any potentially rolled eyes or imagined insults over the speedster having issues against firearms were ground away as Roxy started to push against the door - the resulting pained squeal of the metal scraped around my ear canals. It didn¡¯t seem to want to raise back up, so instead she was bending it forward, curling the bottom edge into the room beyond.


    Gunfire rang out, striking the metal walkway around her feet - one of the shots grazing her super suit. As soon as there was enough room, I took a couple of quick steps and then slid myself under the buckled door, narrowly avoiding hitting my head on it.


    Tazer shot went out, striking two ahead that were using a tipped over table for cover. As I rolled to my feet, my left arm went up to block an attacker from the side - his knife burying itself into my forearm. I pushed him away and racked a fresh shell into the chamber as I stepped back.


    Didn¡¯t have the chance to fire, as Roxy stepped in quicker than expected and hit the clone in the head with a blazing punch. His head exploded, covering the wall with particles of destroyed brain and skull fragments, the inert body flopping over to the floor with a thud.


    She pulled a face as she looked at her bloodied hand. ¡°Fuck!¡± Before I had the chance to interject, the super had stepped over to me, grabbing at my arm to see the knife still embedded in there.


    [Could you do the honors?]


    With a grim nod, she took hold and pulled it out of the wound. Normally not something advisable, but it was finally enough damage to cause my stims to kick in. I had almost been worrying I had a dud pack. Warmth ran through my veins as I took stock of our new surroundings.


    Seems the armed clones hadn¡¯t wanted to stick around, aside from these three. I gestured over to the stunned pair behind the table, and Roxy took the initiative. As I looked through the empty cabinets that once held pistols or assault rifles, the crack of a neck breaking was followed by a second.


    To the side was a staircase leading up - this door had been locked as well, but such things were no issue for a strength super. In addition to hiring Clara, maybe Roxy could also be swayed to join in on my murder missions. Ah, when I worded it like that, it didn¡¯t sound likely.


    ¡°Anything worth taking?¡±


    I shook my head. They¡¯d all but cleared out - not enough weaponry for everyone who was in the basement by a large degree. No shotguns, so no shells.


    [I¡¯ll see that knife, though. I bled on it, so it¡¯s mine now.]


    She rolled her eyes and handed it over, the thing still in her grasp for whatever reason. Something larger than a basic dagger, probably a bowie knife. I wasn¡¯t usually much for stabbing, but having been stabbed by a few things in my life, it was about time I gave it a go from the less sharp side of the experience. Slotted it in behind my belt for now.


    [Did you punch that guy full force because he stabbed me?]


    Roxy shot me a half-hearted glare and gestured to the stairs, not willing to grant my question an answer. She didn¡¯t seem too impressed with the results, so I wouldn¡¯t press the issue. At least now she knew.


    My insistence that she tell me the truth seemed to have cooled her usual flare, and she was being a little more businesslike with the work. Part of me wanted to grab her again and shake out the answers, but I knew it was pointless at this stage. I could only assume she didn¡¯t want the people with eyes on us to know that she was leaking information - possibly putting her at risk of banishment from the League¡­ or worse.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    If she trusted me enough to put herself on the line like that, then I¡¯d respect her need to be silent for now. We had a villain to erase. Or¡­ arrest, I internally sighed.


    Up the stairs to the door - and now we could hear the gunshots. Despite his speed, the Captain probably wasn¡¯t as durable as the woman beside me, so might have second thoughts about trying to run past a hail of bullets. Our own ranged super wouldn¡¯t be as effective in corridors, but in my opinion she¡¯d be more use in here than outside.


    Not that I felt I should be in charge. At this point, I barely had a grip on my own life, and I had tried to keep that as simple as possible.


    A nod from Roxy that I returned. I switched back to the drum mag as she put her hands on the locked door. New cartridge loaded, I brought out the knife into my left hand. She applied pressure, and we burst into renewed violence.


    Door slammed against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, and I slid across in a crouched position. One clone had been right beside the door on the left, but I fired past him at a group hunkered down and seeking to light up the rest of the super group when spotted. Crimson soaked through blue overalls to daub them in speckled purple. Roxy stepped out and leveled a strong kick to the one beside me, sending his limp body down the corridor to collide with the ones I had injured.


    I stood, and we power walked in tandem toward the continued firefights further in the guts of the factory. Stepped past a closed doorway and a spear burst from the frosted window, striking and scraping along my raised gun-arm. Turned and blasted through it, before kicking it open.


    Assailant lay on the floor grasping at his bloodied stomach, bleeding out. Three others in the room were all armed with similar weaponry.


    One darted for me as I stepped in. Barely deflected it with my knife, the sharp end of their archaic harpoon-esque weapons tearing through the layers of fabric down my arm. I spun along the length of the extended spear, racking another shot. The blast shredded clone number three, making a mess of his arms and causing his melee weapon to drop to the floor.


    Roxy had moved up behind me, and she grabbed the weapon half hanging from the broken window. While I stepped away from a follow-up attack from the one I was closest to that grazed my side, she lashed out at him with the small blade-like end.


    Surprise on his pale face as he went to move his arm, but could not. The limb fell from the rest of his body with a slick tearing noise, the pain not registering until a couple of seconds after the fact. The super followed up by drawing the sharp end up the man¡¯s torso until it tore into his neck - just as I blew the throat out of the last remaining clone in the room.


    Bodies and spears dropped to the floor, including the one she had been holding. Roxy turned to me with dull eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t even.¡±


    Wasn¡¯t sure where I¡¯d even begin. Probably not a good sign that I saw her choice to use weaponry and kill things with efficiency as¡­ attractive. I shook the thoughts from my head and followed her out of the room. Better to have a clear mind - my life was complicated enough.


    We stepped around to the next corner where the group of dead or terribly injured clones lay. Just before we turned, Roxy stepped back and pressed a hand against me.


    A torrent of bullets tore up the carpet and burst at the edges of the concrete wall.


    ¡°Auto Turret. Assholes.¡± She exhaled and began looking around for the easiest way around it.


    An Auto Turret was a simple machine. All business when it came to shooting anything not on the safe list it held, and shooting things is what it excelled at. Hardly any ¡®smart tech¡¯ inside it to make hitting it with a Tazer worth the effort. Didn¡¯t need to shield your brain when you only worked on pure instinct, anyway. They did have a different weakness, however.


    Chamber opened up, bouncing the ejected shell off the wall and into my hand. Replaced it with the Liquid one. I looked over at the other side of the hallway past this opening. A good twenty feet where I¡¯d eat bullets for lunch, delivered straight to my stomach. Corner required a turn to the right, which made it difficult to level my shot without exposing my left side. Unfortunate.


    [I need two seconds of distraction.]


    Roxy gave me a brief nod, and without hesitation, did a small leap into the middle of the opening, before crossing her arms in front of her head as she braced herself. The Turret picked her up near instantly and railed off a burst of machine gun fire. I stepped out and fired the odd ammunition.


    The square shaped robot had three barrels across the dark metal front, the main body mostly used to house the ammunition - but the power sat just behind the front-facing panel. Fluid shell struck it dead center above the middle barrel. It burst, expanding ten times the size and pelting the machine with a bucket full of water.


    Well, not water exactly. Although the scientist that had created the odd liquid had received prizes for the effort, it wasn¡¯t safe for consumption - so uses were few and far between. More of something synthetic in ways I hadn¡¯t cared to learn up on prior. A glassful of the inactive powder could expand to almost fill a bath - but evaporated five times as quick as actual water.


    Not that the Turret cared for the difference. Sparks and smoke rose from the back of it as the cycling barrels slowed to a stop. I looked back at Roxy, to see that her arms had been damaged from the barrage. Nothing too detrimental, but several trails of red ran down her muscled forearms.


    ¡°Let¡¯s continue,¡± she said, shaking them off and not allowing me time to make sure she was fine.


    //Clara: She isn¡¯t that reckless usually.


    //Clara: Either you¡¯ve had quite the effect on her¡­


    //Clara: Or she hit her head on something pretty hard.


    //W:¡­thanks, Clara.


    As if I didn¡¯t need more things to overthink. There had been an attitude change since I provoked her, but I didn¡¯t think I deserved the blame for her own choices. We stepped past the inert bot and I gave it a shrug. All victims of circumstance in one way or another.


    ¡°The others are just ahead, I can hear Belle.¡± Roxy raised her eyebrows and then went to jog. Another long corridor that flanked a central room on our left, perhaps - although there were no doors or windows on this route. Another sixty or so feet before a left turn, and that¡¯s where it sounded like the others were currently fighting.


    I pulled out my knife after loading the normal shell back into the gun-arm, as the super went ahead. Once loaded, I changed to a tactical jog to maintain pace.


    A thrum of power vibrated ahead and then the left wall beside her burst away with the sharp sound of a train passing, as a large metal claw broke through the wall and slammed her into the concrete on the other side. A segmented cylindrical tube ran from the sharp hand pinning her all the way into the unknown.


    Overcharge powered up as I snapped my shot into the silvered tube, shredding away some of the metal plating and exposing the wires and working parts inside. Sparks flickered around the wound as some of the power failed to connect properly.


    With a growl, Roxy pushed the claw out of the wall, freeing herself. With a quick twist, she yanked the lagging arm, tearing it apart where I had weakened it.


    ¡°Careful, Dubs - this is-¡±


    I dove to the floor just as soon as she started the warning. The wall beside me burst open as a second pincer slashed through and slammed into the right-hand side of the corridor, pelting me with powdered concrete.


    This was the villain.


    I was never given their name, or a hint of what their power was, other than owning a rather efficient clone farm. Giant robot tentacles weren¡¯t really on the shortlist that I had imagined. Oh, to be back fighting through mobsters and sinners under the cover of night again¡­


    Up to my feet, I ran, as instead of retracting the arm, it then slid towards me. Brickwork thrown and broken all along the left wall as it tried to catch me up. It was only briefly slower than me thanks to the friction of the wall it had to destroy its way through. I turned and slid across the carpet, ejecting the unused shell to slap a Tazer in.


    Struck it dead on, a blue shield shimmering over the extended limb as it slowed but wasn¡¯t stopped. It was enough time for Roxy to step in holding the dismembered claw, which she slammed down on the metal tubing, pinning it to the ground.


    ¡°Go help the others. I¡¯ll keep him busy.¡±


    I nodded and moved, only a little reluctance in my step. She could take care of herself, and freeing up the other supers would make this an easier process. Maybe even earn me some goodwill with the assholes.


    Boots took me around the corner, a handful of clones parked behind cover with machine guns just ahead. Their eyes turned to me in surprise as I slapped in a Smoke shell and fired it straight at them. Ejected the spent shell and-


    The wall to my left exploded out, and I struck the other side of the corridor. Sparks dazzled my eyes as my head bounced off the concrete. Stims powered through, numbing the pain as I turned toward the cloud of shattered stone, blinding me.


    ¡°Child-killer, you cannot run!¡±


    I took a step forward, arm shaking as it came up - before a pincer slammed into me. Pressed against the wall again, I felt ribs crack and break as my skin split and muscle was slowly cut through. Ears rang, but everything started to feel distant. My mind slinking away from the situation as fast as it could. Humbled, I realized how out-of-place someone like me was here.


    So used to fighting dickheads with guns and knives, I''d forgotten I was just the same. Fooled myself into thinking I was something uncontestable. What a shitty party trick.


    My eyes closed as they became too heavy to lift. Cold ran through my core, I¡­


    I sunk into the darkness. Accepted it.


    A well-earned rest.

 26 - A Clean Start

    They say life flashes before your eyes when you die. I had no such extravagance granted to me. Whether that was because most of my life was an unknown or I just didn''t deserve a period of reflection, I couldn¡¯t tell.


    Instead, brief visions of muddied violence occasionally pierced the infinite darkness. Soundless flashes of crimson and bright primary colors. Last ditch efforts of a failing mind that was trying to grasp at the slippery edges of mortality before I could fall into nothingness.


    But a clicking noise permeated these dying dreams. Similar to a clock, but it wasn¡¯t ticking¡­ as though a mechanism had stuck and it kept resetting to power through the blockage. Sharp and slightly irregular. I could feel myself tense up every time it cut through the peacefulness of the void.


    Less an ominous tolling of my final moments, and just a grating experience that fucking annoyed me. Gray washed over the darkness, a wide crack of light forming at the horizon of the expanse I had been lost in for who knows how long.


    Gradually, I opened my eyes to allow the light of the afterlife to scour me anew.


    Bright white fully encompassed my vision before it slowly faded to something more palatable. Shapes and feelings came to my body with the prickly awakening of my nerves.


    I hadn¡¯t imagined purgatory to feel so¡­ wet.


    My eyes drifted down at the place my soul now resided. It was bubbly and contained in some sort of ceramic trough. Oh.


    Off to the side, a small volcano of black topped with bright red turned the page of a magazine, creating a sharp clicking noise that grated through me. I grunted in resignation.


    ¡°Oh... fuck! You¡¯re awake. I thought you¡¯d never come to.¡±


    Blurred eyesight washed away and Roxy¡¯s face came into view. She looked tired and stressed, but looked earnestly happy to see that I was apparently alive, despite feeling like a corpse still.


    [You have been worried.]


    A glum smile. ¡°Is it that easy to tell?¡±


    [Is that why you¡¯re holding my hand?]


    I glanced at my gun-arm, which she was holding on the edge of the bath with the hand not holding the magazine captive.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a prick! I didn¡¯t want your gun all fucked up from the water.¡± She tried to put on a scowl, but embarrassment overrode it as she watched me look down at my torso.


    My bare chest, that I hadn¡¯t seen in years. Four bright pink lines formed a cross over most of my torso, where the pincer had struck me. These stims might be illegal, but they worked miracles. As freshly healed that a wound could be, I was surprised both at my survival, and at my state of undress.


    [Where¡­ are my clothes?]


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Dubs. This is super weird and inappropriate, I know. I wouldn¡¯t have disrobed you if you didn¡¯t have such a fever. It was just the worry about infection and¡­¡± She gingerly released the barrel of my weapon now that I could hold it I place myself. ¡°I didn¡¯t take your underwear off, and I made it a bubble bath to hide your modesty, too. Did my best to make this as medically sound as possible... I''m not a creep.¡± She grimaced.


    I was in a bath. My first thought was that I didn¡¯t hate it. But then my mind wasn¡¯t fully with it yet, which helped to ignore most of the awkward slurry of words the super was pelting me with.


    [You¡­ bathed me?]


    ¡°Just your torso to clean the wounds. I stayed away from getting any of your cybernetics wet¡­ but if you¡¯ve got any weird shit going on below the waist, then I¡¯m sorry if I¡­¡±


    [I¡¯m fine, it¡¯s just what you can see.]


    She nodded slowly and sat back against a wooden cabinet, leaving the magazine on the floor. Now that I had a chance to focus, her bathroom was rather modest and small, with a similar rustic theme that matched the other places in the house I had seen.


    ¡°Speaking of seeing¡­ I was rather surprised... at the sight of you - after cutting all those layers of gross fabric off.¡± She tried to maintain eye contact.


    [Oh. The scars.]


    Aside from the recently acquired wound that was still tender, the rest of my torso was a patchwork of long healed wounds. Scarred tissue discoloration from all the burns, shots, and breaks I had endured.


    ¡°No, I mean you¡¯re pretty jacked. Respectfully.¡± She bit her lip, which gave the opposite impression to her assurance.


    I suppose I had managed to maintain quite the muscle mass.


    ¡°Like I¡¯m just saying¡­ I¡¯m a strength super who works out all the time and has a specific diet and regimen to adhere to, and it¡¯s fucking difficult to maintain the cut expected of me. You live like a swamp rat off of shots of nanites and machismo, and you look like that? That¡¯s male privilege.¡±


    [I¡¯ve never seen you look any less than peak form.]


    She rolled her eyes. ¡°Near-death experience knocked your brain a little loose, Dubs? I don¡¯t care if the League is listening in - I¡¯ll tell you something that¡¯s bullshit. Their mandatory outfits.¡±


    [Your super suit?]


    She was wearing a black tracksuit at present, which slid into the unimportant folder in my brain - as she was feeding me something between the lines. League was listening in, so she wouldn¡¯t be able to labor me with the secrets just yet. Maddening, but she was clever and trying to do this the right way. Stakes must be high.


    ¡°So they¡¯re a defensive marvel, right? Not quite skin tight though - as they are padded a little. Apparently, my usual shape isn¡¯t feminine enough, so they bulk out my curves a little. And the abs? Partially molded on.¡±


    [Oh, really?]


    ¡°Any idea how difficult it is to maintain a well defined six-pack day in and out for months at a time? I love exercise and the way I am, but I just don¡¯t get any off days.¡± She put her arms around her knees and put her chin on them, looking as fed up as she could manage.


    [One day, Roxy, I will take you out to get a large tub of your favorite ice cream. And then I will sit and watch you eat it all in silent judgement with my effortless abs.]


    Her mouth opened for a few seconds before she shook her head. ¡°Fucker! Had me in the first half, I won¡¯t lie. Best proposition I''ve had in¡­ a year and a half, at least.¡±


    A bit of light-headedness to make my figurative tongue a little too loose. It seemed to calm the nerves she had been holding onto, so I let it be a win on that account. I''d leave the reflection on whatever I was saying to later when I had allowed myself to be a bit more miserable and grounded.


    [So¡­ what happened after I found out villains are above my pay grade first-hand? You saved me?]


    ¡°No. It was actually Belle. The smokescreen you made helped her and Roy catch up to you while I was distracted by tearing the bad guy in half. Wren came in through the ceiling to help out, and then I saw you.¡±


    [I¡¯ll have to give her my thanks.]


    I doubted that the woman cared about me that much, although as heroes, they should prefer to save innocents. I allowed myself to masquerade in that position, despite being far from any halo or similar accolade. Quite likely they were keeping me alive for the same reason that I had been pushing into being around the supers. Something I was keen to find out if I weren¡¯t enjoying the bath so much.


    [So then you picked me up and brought me here to nurse me?]


    ¡°You¡¯re making it sound weird.¡± She rubbed at her eyes. ¡°I knew you wouldn¡¯t want to go to a hospital, and I just¡­ I felt really guilty, okay?¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    [None of this was your fault, apart from¡­ well, perhaps most of it. But I got a good scrub out of it, so who am I to complain?]


    ¡°Ugh.¡± Roxy hid her face. ¡°Just your torso so your wounds could heal. I¡¯m surprised you aren''t covered in like¡­ skin diseases, with how thick with old sweat and blood your clothes were.¡±


    [The scars are probably enough of a shock, I am sure.]


    ¡°Everyone has them, Dubs." Her head emerged to shoot me a glare. "Look.¡± She stuck one of her legs out straight and pulled her tracksuit up to expose part of her calf. Other than being surprisingly pale, there were streaks of slightly different colored skin like lines of silver from ankle to knee.


    She obscured it back up and relaxed against the cabinet again. ¡°Would like to say they¡¯re from something cool, but it was just dumb teenager things. Thought I could jump up on a building¡­ and it turned out they had some fancy skylight that went through four floors. Reinforced glass, which didn¡¯t stop me.¡±


    [And did you learn anything?]


    ¡°Super suits are much better than shorts for leg protection.¡± She gave a shrug. ¡°Oh, but this is the downside.¡± With her hand, she pulled at the neck of her top to expose some pale collarbone - a stark contrast to her tanned hand and arms. ¡°Thematic to call it a farmer¡¯s tan, maybe.¡±


    [You couldn¡¯t sunbathe to even it out?]


    ¡°And risk paparazzi finding me and taking pictures so that people around the city can discuss if my ass looks too square, or question my work ethic because I have time to lay around instead of save the world? People on social media are cruel, and I¡¯d rather not deal with that shit these days.¡±


    We fell into a brief silence, where she tried to compartmentalize some issues she currently had with being a hero, and I slowly gathered the mushy parts of my brain together to try to accept my situation and what possible next steps I should take.


    Honestly, some of the usual dour grime that ran thick through my existence had washed away. Could be the near-death experience. Might be that Roxy had promised me answers to things that had been plaguing me for a while. Part of me was also currently accepting the fact that I wasn¡¯t totally horrified by my current situation.


    Despite being her faux sidekick and cordial neighbor, I hadn¡¯t expected this amount of care or hospitality - not to the point that it appeared she had been losing sleep over my condition. Odd to think that someone¡­ cared for me. Especially with the odd questions marks still hanging over our heads. It was enough to make me believe she had my best interests in mind, despite there still being that chance this was a long con on her part. Still, I was thankful for the second... or maybe my third chance at life.


    [I appreciate your help with all this, Roxy. Honestly. Did you want to wash my hair?]


    Her face was nothing but a scowl as it emerged from where she had buried it within her thoughts. ¡°Are you fucking with me?¡±


    [It¡¯s fine if you don¡¯t think it requires doing. I can go without.]


    ¡°It definitely needs doing, Dubs.¡± She sighed and gave me a glum smile. ¡°I¡¯ll do it, but you can¡¯t take the mask and goggles off, right?¡±


    [Short answer, the mask does not come off. The goggles aren¡¯t part of my cybernetics, though, so they can.]


    With a nod, she stood up to her feet and dug through a cupboard to find bottles of¡­ hair cleaning lotion - whatever the proper name for that was. My left hand came up on aching muscles, and I pulled the goggles from my face slowly, the strap sticking to my skin where blood and sweat had sealed it to me.


    Now without the slight tint of the green lenses, her bathroom was harsh bright white that burned at my eyes. Would take a moment for them to adjust for the strange ¡®real¡¯ tones of the place.


    Roxy turned to see my hand extended, giving her the goggles to put somewhere safe. Her eyes went up to my face. ¡°Oh!¡± Her eyebrows raised, and she paused as if frozen for a moment.


    [Oh?]


    She shook her head. ¡°Sorry. I was expecting¡­ well, you do look like you haven''t slept in months. If you didn¡¯t have tech eyes, I thought they¡¯d be all¡­ soulless and shit. Not¡­ bright green and lively.¡±


    [You¡¯re saying I have pretty eyes?]


    Frown across her brow, she screwed her mouth up. ¡°What has gotten into you, Dubs? Did the noir asshole part of you wash away with the rest of the filth?¡±


    [I am vulnerable, contained, and weak. It is only fair that I disarm you in some manner in return.]


    ¡°Takes more than that,¡± she murmured. ¡°Close your eyes while I shampoo you, alright?¡±


    [Too distracting?]


    ¡°Don¡¯t make me unclip your vocalizer, asshole. As much as I appreciate that you feel comfortable enough to banter with me, I actually have a job other than being your nurse that I need to get back to and run a report on yesterday¡¯s bullshit.¡±


    It seemed as though I had slept for a day. No surprise given the damage I had sustained, but then again - I lived through plenty anyone unluckier than me wouldn¡¯t.


    ¡°If I play truant too long, League will drop a nuke on me. They always know where I am.¡±


    Another clue. League didn¡¯t just have ears around her, but were actively tracking her whereabouts. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. Made sense on the surface. With people as powerful as supers wandering around, you¡¯d want to make sure they weren¡¯t getting up to anything they shouldn¡¯t. Too risky.


    That made getting the information out of Roxy more difficult. Even as the super rubbed the hair juice through what matted excuse of a haircut remained atop my head, I still had some apprehension over her intentions.


    I¡¯d need to message Boss soon - something that paired with the rest of my thoughts. If my aura was indeed bullshit, then there would be few places Roxy and I could speak fully, confident that nobody could listen in. There was the Dead Zone out in the wastes¡­ but if she was being tracked, then the League would know something was up seeing her go out that way.


    She brought out a cup to fill with water and rinse the suds off the back of my head, trying to avoid getting my neck wet. That part was water resistant, although I¡¯d never tested it past it getting spray with rain¡­ or blood.


    [So¡­ where are my actual clothes?]


    ¡°Mouth closed while I¡­ oh, sorry. I don¡¯t know why I keep forgetting.¡± She sighed and placed the cup down. ¡°I took them out back and burned them.¡±


    [Oh¡­]


    She moved away and put her hands on her hips. ¡°Like, I know this is already a really weird and awkward situation - none of this is normal¡­ but I¡¯ll turn that up a notch to say that I have some clothes that will fit you.¡±


    [Not¡­ spares of your super suit, I hope?]


    ¡°Of course not. Not exactly¡­ just¡­ I realize that going with the flow almost killed you, but just suspend a little disbelief for me? Then we¡¯ll call this all even.¡±


    I tilted my head to see where she was gesturing to. A small hamper presumably filled with the clothing mentioned. Beside it, a pair of dark boots that looked¡­ pretty reasonable, I¡¯d have to admit.


    [Fine. I¡¯ll still owe you that ice-cream, though.]


    She resigned to shrugging in exasperation, turning from me and heading to the door. ¡°I¡¯m here for a few hours so don¡¯t rush, but I¡¯m sure you have more important things to do than get wrinkly under all those bubbles.¡± Roxy paused before shaking her head as she left the room, closing the door behind her.


    Given that she didn¡¯t mention Boss overtly, she was actually hinting about my need for the answers. Perhaps she had a plan that I¡¯d need to work out. Quite a puzzle.


    I sunk into the bath a little more. Perhaps treating myself to such a luxury on occasion wouldn¡¯t hamper my work at all. A bit late to furnish my kill room with a bathroom suite, but - depending on what I soon learned - it might be time I relocated to somewhere with some creature comforts.


    The warmth of the water had waned during our conversation, and I had to replay parts of it in my mind to recoil in horror at some of the things I had said. Some of it had been true, and from the sensible part of my mind, but I didn¡¯t have the stomach to sort out which parts were which. Almost didn¡¯t have a stomach, after what the villain had done to me.


    My mind wanted to go over the fight again. Try to debrief what went wrong, as I was sure I could have contributed to the defeat of whatever it was behind those walls.


    I needed to check the lense history to see what his Threat Level had been.


    With a resigned grunt, I pulled myself from the bath, trying not to crack the ceramic with my metal gun-arm. Plug out so the water could wash away. I assumed that it wasn''t the first fill of the bath given that the water wasn''t murky enough, and too warm to have been from yesterday. How was the house even connected to the water supply? Stepped out and saw my full form. Towel up to dry myself off. All things rather new and awkward with my one good hand.


    She hadn¡¯t been wrong about how muscular I was - the stims must have some manner of steroid in them. I removed my soaking underwear and put them¡­ well; the sink seemed rude. I found a small pedal-lid bin and placed them inside there. Stretched myself out and tried to look at myself through the mirror over the cabinet. I bore the resulting wounds of my years of scraping by. The shrapnel remover left patches of skin where I had received bullet holes. Lines from the various cuts or stabs were a patchwork over me. Yet, I still lived.


    My eyes went down to the discarded magazine as the bath gurgled down the last of the suds. A gossip rag that focused on supers. Lead story was a softball interview with the latest power couple. Heroes used a similar grading system as technology, but with Ranks instead. The buxom blonde with a perfect smile was Angel, S-Rank, which meant she excelled at several different skills. All-rounder heroes were the worst - nobody liked a showoff. Her partner was the son of the man who ran the League of Heroes itself. His super power was being a nepo baby with access to his father''s deep pockets.


    They had shown a little restraint and had pegged him as an A-rank, but I was sure he still had a complex with being lower than his beau. That aside, I was just punching down to distract myself from the inevitable. With a sigh, I glanced over at the outfit Roxy somehow had to hand already.


    Opened up the hamper. Dull green on the inside. Not too far off the shade that I usually wore, but the fabric was much different. Compression shorts and then¡­ what I could only describe as a super suit that was the right size for me. Troubling. Even had the one sleeve only, so that my gun-arm could breathe on the outside. With some difficulty, I pulled it on, followed by the boots. Only almost put my muzzle through her bathroom furniture three times. There was a good reason my clothing choices had been simple.


    Returned to flexing in front of the mirror. Almost skin tight, but thickened in places to accentuate my musculature. Comfortable and easy to move in. I still felt naked and exposed. Didn''t have much choice at this point.


    Lastly, I brought up my goggles from next to the sink, and pulled them back on. Some manner of calm settled through me, as though returning them to obscure my vision shook away the mania that had me... speaking with Roxy in ways that I hadn''t before. Had I made a mistake there? My eye went up to the top of the lense to see a notification.


    Oh, there were a few missed messages while I was struggling to get dressed. My eyebrow raised when I saw that it wasn¡¯t Boss. The other one joined it when I went through what was written.


    //Clara: Glad you¡¯re still with us, Mr Dubs.


    //Clara: I¡¯m ready to falsify Rockslide¡¯s location.


    //Clara: Will only last an hour, but will give you time to get to the Dead Zone.


    //Clara: Tell me when you¡¯re good to go.

 27 - Puzzled Peace

    The wind whipped through my freshly cleaned hair. If it weren¡¯t for the metal gun in place of my arm, I¡¯d start wondering if I were actually a new man. Some of my dialogue choices hadn''t seemed like my normal fare, and not being swaddled up was quite a change. Still felt... exposed, even if it was technically more protective than my previous outfit.


    Super suit was certainly a stark change, and other than responding ¡®okay, bye¡¯ to my intention to leave, Roxy had given me an up-and-down with her eyes more times than seemed necessary or efficient. Definitely had been some words hiding behind her bitten tongue there.


    Of course - now she was behind me, on the motorbike as we thundered across the dry ground of the wastes. Hands around my midsection, which seemed unnecessary given her strength, but I had too much swirling around in my head to tie down any concrete thoughts on that.


    Clara had given us the go-ahead, and we¡¯d left the house in silence. I didn¡¯t know the exact specifics of how the League spied on her¡ªand maybe nor did she¡ªso we took as few chances as we could. Operating out of who knows where, the techie had confirmed that Roxy¡¯s location was still being reported as being in her house. If I was being watched, then I¡¯d come up with an excuse for going out this far¡­ but we¡¯d cross those bridges later.


    Considering I flirted with death regularly, I was reluctant to admit that I was actually somewhat nervous about this. Not only because this might be some ruse and I was about to get a shallow grave out in¡­ well, no. Otherwise, she wouldn¡¯t have nursed me back to health. She even looked like she wanted to take me up on that ice-cream offer, so it was difficult to assume she might still have some ill intent toward me.


    It was just¡­ me.


    Learning something about my current or old life, or about what was truly going on with her sudden neighborly appearance and me being dragged into League bullshit. I was hungry for the knowledge, but worried I might be allergic. Wasn¡¯t equipped for what the reaction might be. Violence, most likely.


    Across the rocky expanse of the wastes, our destination loomed into view. A group of ruined buildings. At some point a scientific outpost or similar, until an accident destroyed it and sent whatever organization funding it packing. Something about the tech or resulting fallout had made it a dead zone for communication - hence the name. Nobody liked to come out to the wastes, so it was left well alone.


    The bike slid to a stop, now near silent after Clara had torn the noisemaker out. I flicked the switch off and looked over at the nearest building. Stone that had been bleached white from being out in the sun unprotected for so long. My eyes ran along the group of decaying structures for any sign of mutants or other people unhappy with our entrance.


    Seemed clear.


    Roxy hopped off the back first, before I moved myself onto the ground. Her eyes looked at me expectantly, and I gestured for us to go to the nearest building. A little shelter from the walls should give us extra privacy, even if the roof was gone.


    As our boots crunched through the loose gravel, I held up my wrist to see my STAR. A trio of green lines worked their way across it at an angle, repeating once they went out of frame. Completely frazzled. Thankfully, it didn¡¯t seem to do anything to my neck or gun-arm, so I could breathe relatively easy. Even if my stomach was knotting up.


    We stepped into the brief shade of the half-building. The roof had collapsed inward, so it was mostly cluttered with broken brick and tile. A pile of trash long dried and burned away sat in the corner. I checked my STAR again to be sure. Still wavy.


    I gave her the nod, apprehension not allowing me to speak first.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± She shuffled awkwardly. ¡°Can I just say that I am both super giddy to see you in that suit, but also completely terrified because if we fuck this up, the League will straight up kill me?¡±


    [You can say that. The second thing is the more important of the two though - why take the risk?]


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve picked up on the subtext that I kinda dislike the League.¡± She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall.


    [Clara too?]


    ¡°She¡¯s¡­ her story isn¡¯t mine to tell, but I¡¯ve been close with her since she joined. I trust her with my life and she doesn¡¯t have much love for them, either.¡±


    I nodded. If you¡¯re found to have a super power, then it¡¯s either join the League or be earmarked as a ¡®villain¡¯. The techie might not have a power, but perhaps her skills were otherwise causing her to be an important asset in the League¡¯s eyes. Wasn¡¯t sure how that tied in to me yet.


    [So, what do you have to tell me?]


    Roxy took a deep breath, still cautious about letting the information out. ¡°To start with, I don¡¯t know everything - so apologies in advance if all this edging is a letdown. First thing is¡­ the League is looking to track down your Boss.¡±


    I nodded again, slowly. That made some sense at least, but didn¡¯t really change my internal mood. Boss was the head of a hitman group, so I imagined that plenty of organizations would like a stern word with him.


    ¡°The reason they moved me in next to you was to try to pry information out of you.¡±


    [They¡­ knew I was working for Boss?]


    Not to mention how completely ridiculous the idea was that I somehow wouldn¡¯t be suspicious of the super just appearing and wanting to be my friend¡­ although, it had led this far, so maybe more the fool me.


    ¡°Yeah. For a while, from what I can gather.¡± She grimaced and looked toward the open doorway. ¡°The work you do is illegal as shit, but the way they see it, you¡¯re picking up some of the slack that the cops can¡¯t handle.¡±


    [But as soon as I deviated from killing only criminals¡­]


    ¡°That¡¯s why I was questioning you. I wasn¡¯t lying at the casino, though. About being in the League¡¯s bad books and needing the job to succeed. Problem was, the bust was you, not the mob perp.¡±


    [It was too much of a coincidence for you to turn up there. You haven¡¯t exactly been questioning me about Boss, though.]


    She shrugged. ¡°Eh, it¡¯s hard to bring that up naturally without sounding even more suspicious than I already was. My soft skills are pretty shitty. So, they sent the wrong fuck up, because I didn¡¯t really want to screw you over like that. In a betraying way.¡± Her eyes went to my suit before staring at some of the rocky debris on our side.


    Initial friendliness explained. At some point she realized I was some manner of a kindred spirit that she could get along with - a rarity for her, it seemed. Still, there was more to come. I could sense it by her awkward stance.


    ¡°Of course, once they saw you in action¡­ they didn¡¯t want me to chase information on Boss¡­¡± Her eyes came back up to my face, some of the exhaustive worry showing in her eyes again. ¡°They wanted to know more about you.¡±


    [About me? Wait. When did they see me in action?]Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    ¡°Something about a disk drive being recovered?¡±


    How quaint. They had set up their own contract to retrieve something they had planted. Watched me in action somehow and set some man and a handful of ghouls up to die. I felt that it should anger me¡­ but it didn''t. Just numb still. If Boss hadn¡¯t lied about my aura¡­


    Had they seen me take out the scientist and villain too?


    [I feel at a loss knowing that I have not lived in as many shadows as I had hoped. Why are they watching and trying to get to know me?]


    Roxy took a deep breath and swallowed. ¡°Okay, so this is the bigger thing¡­ because we might have a clue as to who¡­ or at least what you used to be.¡±


    My chest tightened, which was painful for my recovering muscle and organs. I tried to consider whether I truly wanted to know - I could always run for the bike instead. But no, I had committed to coming out of my shell and burning a new path. With a nod, I took a deep breath of my own.


    [I am ready.]


    ¡°Dubs, you¡¯re¡­ some kind of super soldier.¡±


    The words struck me in unison like a clasp of throwing knives. Looking down, I found my psyche and sense of self unharmed. Looking at my physique and knowing what I was capable of, it made perfect sense. Unsurprisingly, even if it needed actually saying to become fact in my mind.


    ¡°Clara has been trying to dig up information, but a lot of records are scrubbed, like your unit or whatever the fuck was destroyed. You were supposed to be dead, so I guess the League is interested to find that you have been reborn under your Boss.¡±


    [The code you tapped on my muzzle?]


    ¡°She found a partial list of ten callsigns that your group used. I only memorized three of them, so we lucked out when you pushed me to be truthful back there.¡±


    [Mm. I apologize for that.]


    She shook her head before she relaxed and ran a hand through her hair. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I knew you¡¯d have a breaking point, and they¡¯re severely underestimating your intelligence. But like I said, we¡¯re even now, okay?¡±


    [Agreed. So the whole housewarming and clone thing¡­]


    ¡°All their set up - although I honestly didn¡¯t know they¡¯d be giving us that mission. Was hoping to palm you off to Clara for most of the party and give the League the middle finger. Didn¡¯t think I¡¯d even convince you to come over¡­¡±


    [They didn¡¯t consider you using physical violence to sway me?]


    ¡°Nah.¡± She gave me a soft smile. ¡°League said to use a soft touch. Well, they wanted me to be a lot softer¡­ but I could tell from the outset you were attracted to other things already.¡±


    [Murder?]


    ¡°Like, being miserable, you asshole.¡± Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°A workaholic who allows himself to wallow in filth because he thinks he doesn¡¯t deserve to live like a normal person isn¡¯t going to be bowled over by the first gal who flutters her eyelashes at him.¡±


    [Plus, it¡¯s not your style.]


    Her eyes narrowed. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    [Even when you were lying to me about your intentions, I never felt that you were being anything but your honest self. That amount of good-natured down-to-earth earnestness is¡­ well, it¡¯s clear as to why you don¡¯t fit in at the League.]


    A few emotions ran through her face before she settled on a pout. ¡°Dubs. That might just be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.¡±


    [That is both sad and disappointing.]


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She sighed. ¡°So¡­ any of that jog your memories? It was one thing that the League was sniffing around for your Boss, but now that it¡¯s you, I¡¯m¡­ worried.¡±


    I raised my left hand and rubbed at the side of my head. She had replaced my nutrient cannister, probably twice, during my recovery - which was considerate. Otherwise, I¡¯d be in an even bigger jumble mentally. Did I remember anything?


    Being a super soldier didn¡¯t mean I had any powers, despite the similar name. It just meant I was engineered in some way to be a step above baseline people. Strength and recovery, maybe agility. It felt as though I would have been used to combat something, rather than used for some menial task - especially with Roxy¡¯s extra information about the callsigns. That spoke of a specialist squad that worked together.


    As I stared blankly at the super, I felt as though my purpose was on the tip of my tongue - but I didn¡¯t have one, so instead I just shrugged.


    [No sudden realizations I¡¯m afraid, but it gives me something to work with.]


    She smiled again. ¡°Clara is going to keep digging when it is safe to¡­ but I should ask if you¡¯re okay with finding out about your past? Here¡¯s me being an asshole again, asking after I¡¯ve already told you.¡±


    [It¡¯s fine. At some point I did not want to know, but have come to terms with it.]


    ¡°Thank fuck.¡± She kicked some gravel about with her boot. ¡°So, what now?¡±


    [We need to get you out of the League.]


    ¡°What?¡±


    [They are stifling you and you are unhappy there. Think of what you could do free of that.]


    ¡°And do what?¡± She crossed her arms and scowled at me. ¡°Come work for your Boss and never bathe again?¡±


    I sighed and looked out to the amber wasteland, still baking under the relentless sunshine. Despite feeling like I could trust Roxy now, several things put into question my relationship with my employer. He had granted me this life¡­ but that shouldn¡¯t mean I am beholden to him.


    [No. That is beyond the point. We have other avenues to explore, and you have changed my worldview when it comes to hygiene.]


    ¡°Ugh.¡± She rubbed at her eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve clearly been reading too many cliche romance novels, Dubs. You can¡¯t just promise things will be okay and then it¡¯ll work out. If I leave the League, I¡¯ll be a villain. The other options are¡­ there¡¯s just no way for us to accomplish that.¡±


    [There are World Government Sanctioned Enforcement Agencies.]


    ¡°But the requirements of a SEA are just¡­ not only a fuck ton of money, but you need guarantors, a sparkling blank criminal record, personality and intent tests¡­ between the two of us, we¡¯re fucked.¡±


    She had a point. Not used to this whole optimism thing, I had become a little too idealistic. Time to bring it down a few notches.


    [How about for now, we just agree to keep each other safe? We¡¯ll play along with the puppet masters, but by working together we¡¯ll stay a step ahead.]


    I held out my left hand for her to shake. After running her tongue across her bottom lip, she smiled and gave a nod before clasping and sealing the deal.


    ¡°Sounds like the start of a beautiful friendship, Dubs.¡±


    [More of a continuation.]


    She maintained the smile and eye contact as we shook hands for much longer than necessary. Eventually she blinked away the brain freeze and let go. ¡°How much time do we have left? Did we cover everything? I didn¡¯t make like an itinerary or shit - I¡¯m so bad at this sort of thing. Oh! While we¡¯re out here and nobody can hear, I want to say that my manager Stacy is a fucking bitch and one day I¡¯m going to smash her stupid teeth in if she talks to me like I¡¯m a toddler again.¡±


    I ignored most of her word salad. Mostly glad that the Dead Zone hadn¡¯t fried my vocalizer, otherwise this would have been a very awkward conversation. While Roxy seethed over a couple of other terrible coworkers, I tried to ground myself in the changes wrought from the revelations she had brought to the table.


    League wanted to keep an eye on me¡­ and probably test me in some way. Perhaps I¡¯d know more later after Roxy had given in her report to them and they could devise a different way of turning the screws. Maybe I¡¯d send Boss a message and see if he had any contracts for me to pass the time - if I stopped working, he would know something was up.


    There were plenty of other questions, but nowhere for an answer to spring forth just yet. I needed to give my mind and body a little more time to recover¡­ and to adjust to this new stage in my life. Part of which involved wearing this tight super suit, apparently.


    ¡°¡­suck on a fucking cactus dick!¡±


    [Hey, Roxy? Do you have facilities to wash clothing? I assume my super suit will need cleaning at some point in the near future.]


    ¡°Oh? I mean, yeah I do. You¡¯ll probably need more than one suit though¡­ do you like it?¡±


    [No. But you clearly do.]


    Her mouth opened for a couple of seconds before closing. I filled the silence, seeing as she didn¡¯t seem to want to deny it.


    [It should be effective though and offer me more protection. I¡¯m sure in time I will grow accustomed to it. Certainly better for my health and better than running around fully naked. I won¡¯t even ask where you got it from or how you measured me, on the basis that you get me a few extra ones.]


    Roxy nodded her head slowly. ¡°Oh¡­ sure. Ah, how long did you say we had left?¡±


    I checked the static timer in my lense.


    [Doing fine, but we might as well head back if¡­]


    The sound from my vocalizer slowly fizzled away as I stopped talking, and instead my head tilted to the side. With a raised eyebrow, I looked to Roxy - who appeared to be able to hear it too. I stepped out of the building and into the sunlight.


    ¡°What the fuck is that noise?¡± She came out beside me and put a hand above her eyes to try to look out toward the horizon.


    [Mutants.]


    I raised my hand out to point slightly more to the east. Shapes among the shimmering heat of the distance. A lot of shapes. Riding noisy old-tech vehicles powered by gasoline. Dying to a group of the miscreants wasn¡¯t on the cards, but I hadn¡¯t loaded up expecting a fight.


    ¡°We can outride them?¡±


    [Possible, but I do not want to guide them in the direction of our houses.]


    Quite the bind. Emergency ten-mag was on the bike, but the approaching vehicles would house at least twice that. If we got unlucky with which gang it was, we¡¯d be in for a lot worse than just being killed and eaten. We didn''t have the time for anything protracted.


    I turned to Roxy to try to prompt the safest solution of losing them in the wastes in a different direction than where we lived even if it would be tight on time... but she wasn¡¯t there.


    Twisting back to the ruined structure, I watched as she strode back out of it, now with a length of thick rebar in her hands.


    ¡°How about I be your sidekick for a hot minute?¡±

 28 - Unit of Time

    With a soft click, the magazine of ten normal shots clipped into my gun-arm. I gave the panel of buttons on the bike a glance over before turning my eyes across the wastes and back to our approaching enemy, and then the impatient super.


    ¡°You have more experience with them, right? Any words of wisdom?¡±


    [Our enemy is nought but overgrown weeds clouding our celestial garden. We are the sharpened blades; the tools used to cut them down without mercy or hesitation. Disregard their pitiful existence, for those who stand against us must perish without question.]


    ¡°Oh.¡± She bit her lip as her brow furrowed. ¡°So what do you want to do to me - ah, want me to do? Sorry, nerves.¡±


    I stepped back over to her and looked out at the large vehicles thundering toward us. By now, I had a clearer picture of how many there were and what gang they belonged to.


    [Estimated three dozen opponents. Pigman gang, so their intent is to kill us outright. What happens after that is inconsequential. Will mostly be scavenged weaponry, maybe some light firearms. Nets and other means of stunning or disabling movement. The weaker ones look to their leader for guidance, so a morale defeat is a likely path to a quick and decisive victory.]


    ¡°Right. So definitely hostile and deserving of being pulped.¡± She tapped the length of metal in her hands against the side of her boot.


    [In my world, Roxy, you kill and survive. There¡¯s no need for nuance or showboating. No cameras or performance reviews. You fulfill the contract and hope to live another day, just to do it all over again.]


    ¡°A stark change from how I¡¯m conditioned to act.¡± She smiled and gestured with her head. ¡°Well then, big guy. Might I suggest we hide around the other side of these buildings until the soon-to-be-dead arrive?¡±


    I nodded, and we moved.


    Turned out that the decision to stay and fight was the better one. Pigmen were notoriously good trackers, so if they caught our scent they¡¯d find their way to where we lived even if we lost visual of them. We were burning away the remaining time before Clara couldn¡¯t falsify Roxy¡¯s location any longer, but the alternative was worse.


    We pressed ourselves up against the back of the warm building. I could understand her being on edge about the violence. League had drilled their way of dealing with problems for so long that it had muted her true power. She¡¯d let it slip a little back at the factory. Easily able to burst a skull like a balloon with just a punch.


    Now I was giving her free rein.


    ¡°Hey, Dubs?¡±


    I raised an eyebrow as I looked at her.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t really the time¡­ but if you ever needed to borrow my bath again¡ªuntil you get your own sorted¡ªyou¡¯re more than welcome.¡±


    [I appreciate that. Invoice me for the necessary potions to make it bubbly.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± She tilted her head, bemused. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect you to be a bubble guy.¡±


    [It was the second best thing about the bath.]


    I turned to the side and checked the chamber had something in it. Would need to make every shot count. Roxy had paused before continuing the conversation, but any unsaid words were now lost as the roar of the approaching vehicles had gotten too loud. They were just about here.


    The grumbling vehicles ground to a halt, spluttering and chewing through the loose rocks on the other side of the ruined outpost.


    ¡°You sure they¡¯re still here?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, can smell the stinkers. Two from the city.¡±


    Their voices were low and guttural, exactly what you might expect from mutants living out of the city who were also part pig. Boots crunched on the gravel, grunts from their snouts as they disembarked from their bikes and wagons, joined the sounds of withdrawing weapons.


    I cooled and prepared for a job that would earn me no credits. The second in two days. Inefficient.


    Roxy put her hand on my shoulder, but before I could give her a nod of reassurance, her fingertips wrote out another callsign that emerged from the murky depths of my memory.


    ¡®I¡¯ll follow your lead.¡¯


    Ignoring the odd fact that she had memorized that out of all of them, I was glad for it. I¡¯d ask her what the third one was after we had possibly survived this. Gave her the nod she was waiting for and took one last breath. Was only a matter of time before they found us - I could hear them walking closer. The fact that they hadn¡¯t moved around on their vehicles was more a signal that this bunch weren¡¯t working with a full deck of cards.


    I stepped out, around the building and into view.


    ¡°Hold it right there!¡± One still sitting atop a ramshackle vehicle called out.


    A dozen pairs of eyes turned to me, with more adding to that number as those outside of my line of sight stepped into the center of the outpost to spot me. Each of them was tough and leathery from spending their days out in the uncontested sunshine. Mis-matched leathers and dirty linens that barely covered their lumpy figures. Snouts and beady eyes - hunger drooling from their mouths. A few had goggles or punk-like haircuts.


    The one on the top must be the leader, as he was the only one being fanned by smaller servants. Chunkier than the others, and part robotic too - although the arm that outstretched toward me wouldn¡¯t even pass F-Grade given the grime covering the exposed wiring and joints.


    ¡°Damn fuckit!¡± He swore. ¡°Half metal. I was hoping for a good meal. Been a while since we¡¯ve had fresh city meat.¡±


    [I assure you the part of me that is not cybernetics is equally unpalatable.]


    ¡°Yeah, I dunno what the fuck half those words mean. Tie him up, boys.¡±


    I wondered which half. A group of five started to approach me, one drawing out a rope while another held a net. I flexed my neck from side to side. If only I still had that knife I swiped yesterday - although looking at my assailants, I might be able to borrow something sharp and effective in short order.


    Unable to determine Threat.


    Lense was still having a sulk about there being no signal in this area - which added a question for later, as the sensor seemed to rely on an outside connection for determination.


    Just before the nearest mutant had a chance to wind up his net-throw, a gust of energy knocked down part of the building beside me, causing a wave of clouded dust to wash through where I was standing. Into the air, Roxy had leaped up high at a sharp angle.


    And I didn¡¯t need prompting to take advantage of the distraction.


    I stepped and lashed forward at the pig to my right, who was busy gawking at the super. Muzzle struck him straight in the neck, knocking him back and having his hands grabbing at his throat and struggling to breathe. The rest regained their senses, but I was already in and close to the one with the net. He struggled to drop it, now without the space to properly swing it toward me.


    Headbutt straight to the snout, my hand grabbing at his belt to withdraw the stowed weapon into my hand. Curved blade that looked like something dragged from some wreckage and sharpened with stone, rather than being forged with intent. I turned and blocked the sword of another with my gun-arm, forcing him to the side before ramming my stolen good into his ribs - deflected by the bone and unable to find a home in his lungs.


    A dull pain in my back and I turned to see the one with the rope had tried whipping me with it. The fear and clumsy ineptness in his wrinkled face was over as soon as I pulled the trigger and blew the back of his skull out. Empty shell ejected just as Roxy landed.


    An explosion flashed through the area, causing all the pigmen now pooling in to wince and shield their faces. I took the opportunity to slam the fourth near me in the side of the head with my barrel, knocking him out cold.


    Allowed myself a glance toward the carnage.


    The super had landed directly on top of the gang leader and his vehicle, completely flattening both and causing the unstable old-tech to explode and consume all the fuel stored onboard.


    I found that I was briefly gawking alongside the mutants, as I watched the woman step out of the billowing smoke and persistent inferno - seemingly unharmed by both the blast and the fire. She spun the rebar around in her hand before striking a stunned piggy with a downward swing. The metal burst his head in two and continued through the body, stopping around the stomach area, as internal organs slopped out from the opening.


    The look on her face told me that she hadn¡¯t been expecting that and was unsure how to process.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    In a rare case of me actually being wrong, the pigmen did not squeal and run at the sight of their leader being pulverized in an instant. Instead, it galvanized them, and all the rest who were standing around their inert machines or climbing their way through the broken buildings now poured forth to assail us.


    My hand gripped the hilt of the blade tighter as I made to move toward Roxy. While I had no doubt she could handle things herself, part of being a unit was being close enough to support each other.


    A unit?


    Rusted spear went over my shoulder as I dipped to the side, its blunted blade not able to slice through my new suit. Gun-arm struck out at the mutant¡¯s extended forearm, a quick snap and his grip went limp. As the spear went lax, I ran my sword down the metal shaft and sliced into his hand. Elbow to the side of his head as I turned and shot into the stomach of one behind me.


    Down the alley I was approaching, I could see Roxy swinging her metal bar around, a trail of blood flinging through the air in arcs as every strike against her assailants severed through flesh and broke bone. With a growl, she kicked out at the burning wreckage of the leader¡¯s truck, causing it to slide out of my view. The resulting crash as it collided with other vehicles and yells of pain were a vibrant enough painting for me, even as she moved behind a building and out of sight. Not ideal.


    I raised my arm up by instinct, as a shot ricocheted from it. WIth a glare, I watched the pigman manually turning the cylinder of a makeshift revolver, while a second was setting up beside him with a long single-shot rifle. A good thirty feet away.


    Boots dug into the ground, and I flung myself into a sprint. I found that the super suit¡ªwhile way too revealing for my liking¡ªdid actually assist with my speed and maneuverability. Revolver pig made his shot under pressure, and it grazed my side, only barely biting through the suit fabric to cut my skin. Rifle mutant lost his cool and went to reposition, but my shotgun blast took his legs out and he dropped to the ground.


    Impacted them before the pig with the gun could cycle to his next shot, barrel straight to the face, rupturing his eye-socket and splitting bone. Second one received the sharp blade through the neck as he tried to crawl on his ruined legs. Empty cartridge was my only parting regards for his life now lost.


    ¡°Dubs!¡±


    Stims washed through me as I turned to her voice. Energised. Incensed. Murderous.


    Pigman from my side fumbled his swing as I took a couple of steps back. Grabbed him by the throat as I dropped the blade. I powered forward, lifting him up as I traveled straight to where I couldn¡¯t see the super. A wall was in the way, but my new friend would help with that. Using the mutant as a ram, we broke through the weakened brickwork damaged from the wasteland weather.


    Stumbling over the debris, I dropped my helper to see the super. Right arm and leg were encased in a bubbling foam-like substance. Even now, I could see her muscles tensing and trying to pull her limbs free - but even with her strength, she couldn¡¯t.


    In front of her were two pigmen, one with a trident and the other with the machine that sprayed the expanding substance on her. My continued travel took me sliding across the gravel as they both turned to see my entrance. Shotgun struck the first in the knee before I shot it out. I rolled to the side as he fell and went to stand.


    Wasn''t quick enough to block, so I received the sharp points of the trident just in my lower left ribs. He was aiming for my guts but had overcompensated due to my height. I grabbed hold of the shaft and stepped back, pulling him off of his stable footing. Then stepped forward with a kick as I reloaded my shotgun.


    He stumbled backward into Roxy¡¯s reach, and she delivered a punch with her off-hand that severed his spine and burst through his chest.


    I grabbed the hair of the one I had hobbled and pulled his head up high enough to press my barrel against his temple. Ended him with a shot.


    ¡°What the fuck is this stuff?¡± She was clearly annoyed at being rendered powerless.


    [Knock-off of whatever the League uses to contain supers. Erodes after twenty minutes¡­ but we don¡¯t have that sort of time.]


    Roxy tried punching the bulbous foam with her left hand, but it had hardened by now and just deflected her blow.


    I looked over to the side to see the remaining pigmen. Still a dozen, by my approximation. Halfway between seeing that we were both at a disadvantage, but knowing we could easily kill them, anyway. They weren¡¯t as smart as they were hungry.


    With a grunt, I took a step forward and then placed my muzzle to the ground - moving it across to draw a line in the gravel and dry sediment.


    [We will leave the rest of you in peace, as long as nobody crosses this line.]


    I stood up straight to watch them. They¡¯d all gathered together in view now. Eyes shifting between each other, unsure as to who was now the leader - and did they really want to die for nothing? The answer was reflected in their body language as weapons lowered and shifting murmurs came from some at the back. I¡¯d given them an out that even the most simple-minded of them could understand.


    Trouble was, I had already tipped the scales. I stepped over the line myself.


    First one died to my shot before they had even clocked what I had pulled. Second round was already loaded and aiming for them in disarray. It was enough to break their formation and send them scattering to the wastes - not even daring to find a vehicle to climb onto in case I shot that and blew them up. I strode after them, firing non-stop.


    Half of them were dead, and the rest had scurried off together in a loose group, back the way they had arrived from.


    Dropped the empty mag to the floor and took a knee. Scooped up a handful of rough gravel from the ground and opened the side chamber of my gun-arm. V-Force drive kicked into life, vibrating as it powered up.


    Took aim and fired.


    The energized blast went further than my normal shot would, spreading the rocks and stones in a cone directly into the backs of those retreating. Two died outright, receiving the debris through the back of their heads. The other four took damage to either their legs or torso, tripping over each other and collapsing on the heated plains.


    Normally, I¡¯d finish opponents like this off, but the sun exposure and blood loss would have to do it for me. Time was running thin, and I had a restrained super to deal with.


    ¡°You truly are ruthless, huh?¡±


    [Threats must be erased. A mercy compared to what they''d do to us. Are you doing okay?]


    She smiled and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her free arm. ¡°Other than this bullshit, yeah. I guess you know about my secret second power now, too.¡±


    I looked over at the ruined vehicles. There were a few other mutants she had completely taken apart. A frightening amount of power when unrestrained. It was no wonder the League didn¡¯t tolerate rebellion.


    [Fire resistance?]


    She nodded.


    [Before I free you, there is something I would like to ask.]


    ¡°If it¡¯s about the ice-cream, then mint chocolate chip. If it¡¯s not¡­ then ignore that.¡± She grimaced.


    I grunted and stepped away over to one of the bikes the pigs had ridden in. In a terrible state compared to my own, without any of the tech or comforts. If my memory served me right, it held the solution to our current fix.


    [We work well as a duo and I feel like I am getting closer to my old memories when we spend time together. I would like us to continue this¡­ if the League presents you opportunity to¡­ I¡¯d even agree to go the sidekick route, to keep them appeased.]


    The vehicle squealed as I wrenched one of the larger parts from it, thick liquid sloshing around in the metallic tank. I turned back to her and brought it over. She had an odd look on her face that I was too stressed and inexperienced to read. With the clock in the corner of my lense, I instead focused on getting us out of here.


    ¡°Really? I mean¡­ you¡¯re a lot of fun too, I¡­¡± She exhaled through her nose and a more neutral expression returned to her face. ¡°Yeah, sure. Let¡¯s see what the League says, but¡­ I¡¯d like that. Are you¡­ pouring gasoline on me?¡±


    [Correct.]


    I tipped the contents over the foam, getting her slightly covered with the pungent liquid. A second of soaking in and the surface began to fizz.


    [It will take a short while to weaken. I will bring the bike over so we can leave.]


    ¡°Thanks, Dubs.¡± She held her nose and looked away from the chemical reaction, trying not to inhale too many of the fumes.


    Luckily, my re-breather took out most of the sting. I eyed up the bodies as I jogged around to where I had left the motorbike. While it would be difficult to identify Roxy¡¯s kills even via dental records, some of mine had just been maimed by my violent acts. None looked capable of posing any threat, but¡­


    I scooped up a discarded spear and pressed it through the bodies of those still breathing. Stakes were currently high, but I knew how this sort of thing played out. If we rushed back, hoping that they¡¯d pass on naturally, guaranteed one would survive and hold a grudge. Be able to follow us home. Not a risk I was willing to take.


    Bike purred into life, as I dropped the bloodied weapon to the dry stone. Thick tyre kicked up dust as I spun to an angle and went round to Roxy the opposite way. Gave the whole outpost a once-over to ensure no wounded were hiding away. Seemed clear, as best as I could tell. No Threat.


    I slid up beside her, the super now able to stretch her leg up off the floor and away from the substance which had turned into thick gunk.


    ¡°Feel so weak,¡± she complained. ¡°Is this how you feel all the time?¡±


    My blank glare was enough as an answer, her grimace enough of an apology as she moved herself up onto the bike, murmuring constant apologies about getting the gasoline-drenched goo all over me and the bike.


    [We are pushing it close now, so hold on.]


    Her arms immediately wrapped around me, something that had me pause for a split second. Maybe part of me knew she could tear me in half with zero issue if she so wished. That was definitely why.


    We moved and sunk into silence. Blazed a trail out of the Dead Zone and across the dry cracked stone of the wastes. I glanced at the timer in the top of my lense and exhaled. I had gambled on killing the leader being the end of the pigmen, and finishing off the wounded had also burned away at our available time.


    //Clara: Long time for talking, Mr Dubs. I won¡¯t pry.


    //Clara: You¡¯re cutting it very close. Doing what I can.


    //W: Mutants.


    //Clara: Inconvenient. You aren¡¯t damaged; I hope?


    //W: We¡¯re fine. Talk later.


    Didn¡¯t need the distraction, just in case I led us into a group of slightly bigger rocks and flipped the bike. Other than sullying my gun-arm barrel by sticking dusty rocks in it, I was mostly unscathed. A couple of scrapes and bruises - I had ignored most things and would do a full check-up when I got back to my home.


    Although I was starting to dislike my house being a kill room. Maybe the League could airdrop me a house in if I toed their line a little. Something that would bring the bile up in my throat if I had one - but I wanted to step up and dance with the big guys now. Find out what the League and Boss were really up to, see who I used to be and what I could become if let out of my shell.


    Houses in view, timer on red. Just a minute too slow - how annoying things always shook out that way. League might see her position suddenly jump from the house to out here and know something is up. Maybe they wouldn¡¯t¡­ but we were potentially risking a lot on what was a few hundred feet.


    Then Roxy gave me a pat on the shoulder and hopped off the back of the moving bike. I checked the side mirror and watched her land into a crouch, stone and dust blowing into the air as she slid across the ground - before friction caught up and she burst into the air.


    Couldn¡¯t do much else but look up and watched her trajectory. Time turned to single digits.


    Surely she couldn¡¯t be¡­


    I frowned as she dropped down, cratering through the roof and first floor.


    //Clara: Falsification is offline.


    //Clara: Seamless transfer¡­ you made it in time.


    The motorbike slowed as I rolled up in front of her garden, stopping just before her path. Took a glance at the impromptu skylights she had installed. Timer flashed zero, on and off repeatedly.


    A couple of seconds, and the front door opened, the super stepping out. Sweating, covered both in wooden shards and plaster dust, her arm and leg still pasted with the restraining foam remnants.


    ¡°What have you been up to out in the wastes then, sidekick?¡± She asked, trying not to sound too out of breath.


    [Nothing much. Just having the time of my life.]


    I rolled away, not allowing her to get a response in.


    There was only one thing left on my mind. The shadow of Boss loomed as I approached the darkened box of misery that I lived in. If he was half as competent as he like to give off, then he would know I was slowly worming away from being under his control.


    What did he plan to do about that?


    Something worse than labeling me as a villain, I was sure.

 29 - Moving Up

    The gloom of my small house was oppressive. Sitting at my workbench, I drummed my fingers on the top surface. Felt¡­ claustrophobic, almost. Turns out the grass was greener on the other side, especially when you just had a mouthful of fiberglass shards instead of any kind of lawn.


    In sitting here, I had found out that the super suit had a way to neutralize blood stains and slowly mend small tears. With the stims doing similar to my wounds, I hadn¡¯t needed to do any of my usual post-battle repairs. It was almost boring.


    My eye went up as a notification pinged in my lense.


    //Clara: Rockslide is asking if she needs more gasoline for the ¡®goo¡¯.


    //W: It¡¯s been long enough that the substance will have mostly decayed.


    //W: A hot bath should be able to remove the excess.


    //Clara: Perfect. I¡¯ll let you know if she needs any assistance, Mr Dubs.


    //Clara: Upgrades as agreed will be delivered to her house tomorrow.


    //W: Thanks, Clara.


    New tech. Almost made nearly dying yesterday worth it. The events over the last few days seemed to have been separate chunks at first, but there was an underlying thread that joined them all together.


    Looking around my kill room, I let out a long sigh that rattled through my re-breather. I had been avoiding it, but with little else to do with my day, it was time to rock the boat.


    Agent W: Survived the Party and have made full recovery. Available for contracts.


    I waited a few moments for a reply to come through, half expecting to be ghosted by my employer. I¡¯d certainly been through a lot more than just glaring at inedible finger food while supers talked my ears off.


    Boss: Excellent. Anything else to report? I have something for tonight if that is not too soon.


    Agent W: I am certain you know what happened.


    Boss: Of course, I do not let my best and brightest stray too far.


    Boss: The guise of being a sidekick led you into danger that almost got you killed¡­


    Boss: But what do they think of you now?


    Agent W: Haven¡¯t heard about the debriefing yet, but it¡¯s tentative that the LoH might be open to inducting me fully.


    Boss: Interesting. I cannot stress both how beneficial it would be to have someone on the inside of the League¡­ but also very dangerous. For us both.


    Boss: I will leave it for you to decide. I trust you Agent W. Contract details arriving soon.


    I grunted and rolled my eyes. Boss kept basic tabs on me, but didn¡¯t know everything¡­ or at least didn¡¯t show his hand. Didn¡¯t tell him about Clara, my super suit, or how good bubbly bath was. Perhaps he already knew.


    Or¡­ perhaps I could ask Roxy for another while she was out working. The adventure to the Dead Zone had left me dusty and sweaty - something I could no longer stand, apparently. The knowledge that I had been some manner of soldier on a task-force lent me hope that I had lived something more normal at some point.


    It might take some time, but just as deeply buried memories started to return, so too would I embrace a life worth living.


    I turned in my chair and face the crates. New suit was nice, but basic. I needed to outfit a new belt and see if I could get both bandoliers crossed over my chest. Needed a decent sheath for the knife I had stolen. Roxy had put all my gear in a tidy pile on one of the boxes, probably at some point before stripping me? Difficult to think about, so I shook my head.


    Stood and went to grab my gun cleaning kit, and left the house to sit in the sun and do it. Deckchair groaned beneath my weight, but my mood lifted. Although there were potential threats out there that could end me if I made a misstep, I actually felt rather calm.


    Unspoken apologies were given to my shotgun. While the V-Force drive made it so near anything that fit inside the barrel could be fired, it didn¡¯t mean I should take advantage. After cleaning the dust out, it seemed as though the metal tube hadn¡¯t been damaged. I¡¯d need to prod Clara and see if she could get me some of the more exotic ammo types.


    //W: What kind of ammunition can you get me?


    //Clara: Depends on what you¡¯re after and willing to pay.


    //W: Everything and anything.


    //W: Although I know what you want more than credits.


    //W: Next time you have a day off, I¡¯ll be your guinea pig.


    //Clara: Oh~


    //Clara: An offer I cannot refuse. I will be in touch.


    I¡¯m sure she still wanted credits for the product, but the sooner I could get her working out how to use my tech, the sooner she could upgrade me. She seemed to be trustworthy, and if she was digging up data on my past, then I¡¯d sweeten any deal to keep her interested.


    I put the cleaning kit on the ground and settled in to relax in the deckchair. Perhaps I wouldn¡¯t ask Roxy for a bath just yet if I had a contract coming in from Boss. No doubt I¡¯d end up in quite a state after that. By the time I limped back home, she¡¯d probably be asleep or working late - and I didn¡¯t want to bother her then.


    My eyes closed, and I tried to imagine a way I could get my own house. Easiest way would be to move somewhere new - but without identification or any way of having bills and responsibilities tied to me, it¡¯d be impossible. Perhaps if I bent the knee enough to the League, they could airdrop me a similar house to Roxy¡¯s, but it seemed unlikely.


    No easy option, but my current abode had become untenable. While I enjoyed the slight breeze underneath the afternoon sunshine, I pictured my own bedroom with a large bed. En-suite with a massive bath. An area to wash down and change between contracts. It was possible to do what I did but live better - I just didn¡¯t have the imagination for it before.


    I turned my head at the sound of Roxy¡¯s front door opening and watched her step out. Clearly I¡¯d been resting for longer than I thought, as she was pristine and ready to be a showpiece for the League.


    ¡°Alright for some.¡± She smiled, nodding at me lounging the day away. ¡°You have the rest of the day off?¡±


    [Might go out later, but we¡¯ll see.]


    ¡°I¡¯ll be at the League for as long as they can stand my personality. I¡¯ll fight your corner during the mission debriefing.¡±


    [Thank you.]


    //Roxy: Clara also set this up - so don¡¯t be a stranger!


    //Roxy: Also, don¡¯t die.


    //W: You have my word.


    [Oh, before you go - I owe you for the thug rehabilitation.]This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°You do. Left my card inside though, so¡­ how about you come knock once you¡¯re done later?¡±


    [It might be late, so only if you still have a light on.]


    "Deal! You stay safe then, Dubs."


    [You too, Roxy.]


    With a smile and a nod, she turned and then leaped up into the sky, a gust of displaced air washing over me as I watched her leave. Looked like around three or four jumps to get into the city.


    Once she had vanished from sight, I looked back out to the wastes. Quite the eventful day already, and I was still expected to work late. Still, I had to keep up appearances and get paid. I felt sharper than I had for a longer time, so was ready for something to whet my appetite and get more used to my new suit and equipment.


    Briefly, I considered that the other super heroes would also need to give a report on what happened at the factory. They hadn¡¯t really seen me in action, but how well would they speak of me? Probably held a dim view of a sidekick that almost died day one. Depended on how much they knew about the plot to spy on me.


    As much as I wanted to use the STAR to search up the requirements of becoming a World Government SEA, it would be prudent to assume Boss had access to my search history. I had more eyes and ears on me than I had ever thought, but it wouldn¡¯t change who I was. What I did. I¡¯d just have to be a little more cautious about what I gave away.


    Notification pinged in my lense.


    Boss: Contract uploading now. High profile and not something we usually deal with.


    Boss: But I think you can handle it. Rewards will be worth the effort.


    I looked at the STAR to see the contract downloading. The promise of a decent reward had me hopeful, although I wondered what was considered high-profile enough for this to be an edge case. His consideration that I would be able to handle the task didn¡¯t really move the needle. Didn¡¯t care for his praise anymore. Something about forming connections with people who saw me as more than¡­


    More than a tool.


    Sure, Clara wanted to work on my cybernetics primarily, but she was upfront about it and keen to make it more than just a lopsided transaction. Roxy was¡­ well, assuming her report didn¡¯t have an assassin knocking on my door later, I was willing to call her a friend. We¡¯d certainly been through a fair bit in so few days, but fighting alongside her had felt like a natural state of bonding for me. Perhaps an echo of some past existence.


    The ping of the eventual receipt of my new contract took my thoughts away¡­ only for them to fall straight back in place. We should probably base our friendship on more than taking the lives of others. But¡­ it''s all I did. Should I take up a hobby? Might be an idea if I found a third party who could run errands for me in the city. A proxy to buy things from shops.


    Eyes went up to the contract. Read it twice, my breath held. Surely, this couldn¡¯t be right.


    Boss wanted me to kill a villain.


    Or rather, the contract he had taken on required the assassination of a villain¡­ which was usually outside of our remit. Did he think my narrow escape at the hands of Skyblade was a signal that I wanted more of the same? After almost dying to the cloning villain?


    The only thing that prevented me scrambling for my employment contract to see the terms for refusing a job - which I¡¯m sure there was zero ability to - was the promised reward.


    More Sanguine stakes.


    Undisclosed number, but I presumed it would be something in the lower digits. The most powerful thing I¡¯d ever used, so more would be appreciated. How difficult could it be to kill a villain?


    From the briefing, it seemed as though it wasn¡¯t a particularly powerful one when it came to Threat level. Location and auxiliary targets made it more of a problem, however. Villain name; Sweet Jade. Powers looked to be mental manipulation and coercion. Housed in the penthouse of a private hotel. Owns floor nine to fifteen. One to eight was someone else unaffiliated.


    Unknown number of armed bodyguards, some might surrender if she was killed first.


    I grunted and closed it down. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my evening, although a glance back toward my miserable house had me unsure what I wanted to do with my time.


    Change cannister, to start with. Wastes had me parched, and I was starting to feel the emptiness of the glass tube.


    After that, load up on my gear and mentally prepare to do just what I was best at.


    Killing time.


    <hr>


    Bike slid into the shadows and switched off.


    I looked up at the night overhead, the building just off to my side jutting into the sky, windows illuminated in amber most of the way up. There wasn¡¯t a handy nearby building to leap from, or a fire escape ladder to allow me to reach a higher floor. Wasn¡¯t sure if Roxy would be keen to come leap me halfway up the building - nor would my legs survive anything less than perfect execution.


    Not to mention the trouble she¡¯d get in for being an accomplice in my work, even if she and the League were well aware of it. Would destroy her public image.


    Twin bandoliers filled with my remaining Tazer shells. Two ten-mags with normal shot. Knife and Sanguine stakes on my belt. Drum mag was full of Rubber shot, because¡­ hmm. Ego reasons. As if I¡¯d get a special medal for completing the contract in a sub-optimal way.


    Given that many of the guards might be under the sway of Jade, I didn¡¯t just want to wholesale slaughter them. Didn¡¯t have enough Tazer shells left to fill the drum, so this seemed like a second best. I trudged through the darkness, down an alleyway to reach a space between the closest surrounding structures.


    Small service entrance at the back of the building. One dim light above it illuminating the cramped courtyard filled with dumpsters and discarded furniture. With my aura in question, I was uncertain how cautious to be - I had made it this far being brazen, but luck had to run out, eventually.


    The low hum of the V-Force energy ready to fire the odd ammunition type gave me a prompt to step forward. Night wasn¡¯t getting any younger.


    Door had a small strip of bronze metal that looked like it could be slid to the side for someone to look out.


    I tilted my head and knocked on the door.


    The slit of a window opened to the side and two annoyed eyes peered through. ¡°Yeah, what d¡¯ya want?¡±


    [I am an assassin sent to kill Miss Sweet Jade.]


    Window slammed back shut. A click of metal and clatter of chains, and then the door opened. Short man behind, balding and a sour look on his face. Not really a doorman¡¯s attire, but this was the service entrance.


    ¡°Okay, smartass. Your robot brains make you forget your keys again? Which one were you? Karlos? Grant?¡±


    [The latter.]


    ¡°Well, hurry up because you¡¯re letting the cold in.¡±


    I shuffled past him into a corridor of dingy brickwork and stacked boxes.


    ¡°Oh, and take the left elevator. Right¡¯s been playing up.¡±


    [Thanks.]


    He shut the door as I continued on, until a second door took me out to a quiet lobby. Red velvet and hushed warm tones. A decorated carpet soft beneath my boots. The glow of light from a section just out of sight ahead - the front desk, if the long table creeping into view told me anything. Probably manned. Along the right side wall beside me were the two elevators.


    I walked past both and found the stairwell. Pretty much adjacent. Stepped back and pressed the button to the right, which opened up immediately. Seemed fine. I pressed the ninth floor button on the inside¡ªthe highest it went up to¡ªand exited to walk back over to the stairs. Gave them a little distraction if the man had radioed up.


    Wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d seen such a trick. I didn¡¯t buy for one second that he had thought that I was just a cyborg under the employ of Jade. The fact that I had opened with my honest intention probably cut short the usual spiel. He¡¯d just directed me to an elevator that was actually trapped. Someone less cautious would be patting themselves on the back for avoiding the ¡®broken¡¯ elevator, right before the bottom fell out or it became a cage.


    Boots hit the first steps, and I was up and around. Didn¡¯t much care for cardio, but it paid to know what the less tech-dependant method of exit would be. Even now, compared to a lot of the places I did my work, this place reeked of old money.


    The tiles of pristine black and white, decorated with golden filigree. Any wooden detailing was a rich brown, the lacquer as bright as the day it had been crafted.


    Second floor, then third. Some apprehension within me, but I was confident. Security on the lower levels seemed rather lax, with no overt cameras or alarms up this way.


    Round the next set and I stopped. Muscles tensed in seeing the figure standing at the top of them, but I hesitated to fire.


    ¡°By His grace, wayward sidekick,¡± Belle said, her head tilting to the side. ¡°What a curious place to find you scurrying about.¡±

 30 - Elevated Being

    As the supportive super stepped down toward me slowly, I wondered if this had been a setup. Book still clutched under one arm, the same flowing robe outfit as the other day, and green eyes that glared down at me with disdain.


    Her statement of surprise at seeing me in this specific location wasn¡¯t a question, but begged to be answered. There were few reasons for someone like me to be skulking around a place like this.


    [I was about to say the same thing.]


    She gave me a coy smile, some light fading from her eyes as if recalling something very mundane. ¡°This building is part residence to Mr Kingsworth, one of the founders and the key financier of His holy flock.¡± She stopped two steps above me so that she was more eye-level. ¡°It is important that His word spreads, and thus I am required to act out the sinful practice of begging for credits to fund initiatives.¡±


    [I never realized it was so¡­ corporate.]


    Her eyes looked me up and down. ¡°I didn¡¯t think Mr Kingsworth had any further appointments, so you must be here to see whoever owns the higher floors?¡±


    [Cybernetics afficionado. I¡¯m about to do some begging of my own, as I have been considering replacing my other arm.]


    Belle clucked her tongue. ¡°With something more useful than a shotgun?¡±


    [Maybe a¡­ larger shotgun.]


    ¡°You do yourself a disservice by acting a dullard, sidekick.¡± She stepped down to stand in front of me. ¡°So full of sin¡­ in need of correction.¡±


    I watched as she ran her tongue across her teeth, some light now returned to her eyes. Would be nice if she could move so I could continue my job. Oh, perhaps I was being rude.


    [My thanks for saving my life the other day.]


    She gave me a brief nod and pushed some pink hair behind an ear. ¡°His grace guided me that day. Plus¡­ that¡¯s just what a hero does, right?¡± She gave me another up-and-down with her eyes before handing over a small card. ¡°My contact details, if you ever feel you are ready to repent. I will not be gentle.¡±


    Before I could politely respond, she turned and stepped over to the downward stairs, keeping me just in her peripheral. I wondered how rude it would be to put a stake through the back of her head.


    Might sour relations with Roxy, so wasn¡¯t worth it. Not to mention possibly making a mess for my contract¡­ which now had a partial witness. Was this fate having a laugh at my expense? Coincidence, or was the League keeping tabs on me?


    Didn¡¯t do me any favors to speculate. Any worries could be left till after the contract was complete and I was home safe and sound. Or at least not dead.


    Boots met steps once more. Fifth floor, sixth floor. Each had a sturdy-looking door, but no guards were posted on the outside. Stood to reason that they might not be expecting visitors this late - aside from the super. If it were just a rich old man posted up here, then they shouldn¡¯t be expecting any trouble.


    As I finally rounded up to the ninth floor, I was only partially surprised to see that the staircase ended here. The upper part of the hotel seemed to have a secondary internal method of reaching any floor higher than the first section of Jade¡¯s property. Would be too convenient if I could just run all the way up to the penthouse - or wherever she was at this hour.


    Hopefully, she was just about to walk through these wide double doors and go on a brief nightly stroll.


    A couple of pensive seconds spent just to see if that would be the case - but no. I¡¯d have to earn my credits the normal way. There was still something about the security layout here that didn¡¯t sit well with me, but I was sure that I would find out the reason in no time at all.


    The doors didn¡¯t seem to be locked or even that secure. Given the nature of the villain, my assumption would be that most of her protection would be meat-based in the form of manipulated - or just paid - guards.


    I stepped forward and kicked out the doors, pleasantly surprised that they relented to my advances. Two guards right ahead, investigating the empty elevator. White uniforms - shirt and slacks with tactical gear over the top. Odd white hats on their heads. Holstered pistol on one, while the other held a sub-machine gun on a sling.


    They turned to me just as the closest took a Rubber shot straight to the head, knocking him out and sending his hat spiraling across the marbled floor. Second one fumbled for a radio, but with the hiss of V-Force escaping the chamber I¡¯d already loaded the next less-than-lethal round.


    Click and it struck him in the thigh, immediately numbing the muscle. He dropped to his knee from the shock and then I was already upon him. Side of my gun-arm against his head and he joined his companion in being unconscious. Hopefully, I could end the villain in short order and they¡¯d wake up outside of her control - if they were under it, at least.


    Withdrew a Tazer shot to slide into the gun and looked around. A simple, if wide, corridor. Elevator entrances on my right, some paintings covering the wall on the left. Another set of doors straight ahead. Everything opulent and polished. Decadent. About as far from what I was accustomed to as possible.


    I needed to find the internal stairs or other means to get to the higher floors.


    Stepping over to the next set of double doors, I paused. Head craned back to look at the last painting on the wall. Looked like a bowl of fruit. I wasn¡¯t exactly knowledgeable about this kind of thing, but I assumed it was expensive. It was also moving.


    Not in a pleasant way. It smudged and twisted slightly, as if my eyes were marginally drunk.


    Ah, this was her manner of security. A wave of her influence was trying to take control of my mind. She wasn¡¯t meant to be a high Threat villain, so her power would be limited in some way. Probably area of effect. Just meant I now had a time limit on what I needed to do.


    Hadn¡¯t spotted a radio on the man by the service door, but I would be disappointed to not be expected at this point. There was a chance Jade could tell that two of her goons had just been put to sleep.


    In which case, I needed a few more cards up my sleeve. Went back over to the fallen guards. Adjusted parts of my gear and picked up the sub-machine gun. Looked pretty mundane - typical private security weapon. Switched it to burst fire, my eyeballs determined it had a twenty-mag of small caliber traditional ammunition. Hekla-3 was the branding on the side. Sufficient.


    I turned back to the doors, both of which were now wavering slightly. Reminded me of a time I had to clear out a gang that had taken residence in one of the many city dumps. They used poison darts. Turns out that making me woozy and hallucinate did not temper my murderous nature. Terrible hangover after, though.


    Door received a modest shove from my left shoulder as I pushed through into a large room. Briefly overwhelmed by the layout and design of the place, which wasn¡¯t helped by my slightly warped senses.


    Large windows in all directions that looked out onto the city at twilight. Thick pillars of detailed marble in each corner, as well there being another four at the corners of an outlined section of the floor. A square of maybe twenty-five feet, that my brain was able to register as actually being an elevator. The empty space in the ceiling above lent to that being the truth - despite how inconveniently extravagant or structurally odd it was.


    No real furniture or much to note other than a few chairs and a table off to the nearest right side. Four guards, however, approximately one in each corner. Closest to the right was sitting and eating his way through a long sandwich, which¡­ made me envious for some reason.


    So, I shot him with the Tazer.


    Dove toward his shaking body as he spilled the entrails of the sandwich all over the table, and I rolled amongst the furniture. Flipped the square table just in time to block a spray of bullets from those further down the room. Not bullet-proof, but the thick wood took enough force from the projectiles to keep me safe - at least while the integrity of the furniture piece held up.


    Eyes over to the other guard who had been in close quarters. His long tail flicked back and forth in annoyance as he bared his fangs and drew a truncheon that bloomed with electricity at the end. Stun prod. I raised the Hekla up to him and he leaped to the side to roll onto the elevator and behind one of the pillars. Wasn¡¯t often you saw the agile feline Anthrancs in this sort of role.


    Another burst of fire from the other end of the room and the table began to split. Dull pain across my back, but the weakened bullets hadn¡¯t managed to pierce through my suit. Metallic click which I took as a sign of one of them reloading, and I dove back to the left, firing a Rubber shot against the one on the right.


    Straight to the chest with a louder crack than sounded healthy. He dropped to his knees before collapsing, struggling for breath. I was using the pillar as cover to block line of sight to the other armed guard while getting myself closer to the hiding one.


    Stepped around and blocked the stun prod with my gun-arm, the energy dissipating through the length of metal. Chamber hissed as I loaded another Rubber projectile, while my left hit the trigger where he had left most of his body open. Triple shot to his thigh. Dodged the jab of my muzzle and skirted away to circle to my right - trying to keep the pillar in between us.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Blood burst from my torso as I received a trio of shots myself, before I fired the hardened projectile into the skull of my assailant. Would have to be careful I didn¡¯t rupture a window. Unless I needed an emergency escape and fancied my chances of pulling a flying super power out my ass.


    With the cat-man trying to avoid me, I instead stepped over to what looked like a control panel and slapped the wiggly up arrow button. Well, all of them were wiggly, including my hand holding the machine gun.


    The floor beneath me shifted, and a groan accompanied some rotating mechanism that appeared to be hidden in the adjacent pillars. With a slight shake, this central square started to rise to the floor above. Last guard realized he would be left behind slightly too late and leaped to grab onto the rising elevator. I stepped over and kicked him away, sending him down into the overturned furniture.


    Any reprieve was short-lived as the thud of someone landing behind me drew my attention away. I looked up to see that this elevator apparently went all the way up to the top floor and penthouse. A large gap just illuminated by bright white light and glass, framed by the dark marbled ceiling and floor.


    Attention back down to the muscled guard coming at me with a¡­ large axe? Hardly typical.


    ¡°You dare step into Sweet Jade¡¯s home?¡± He growled before flashing the wide blade toward me.


    Oh - this must be a proper henchman. Much like a super hero might pick up a sidekick, villains often had those with minor powers or exceptional skills as their underlings, aside from the usual goons and fodder. This man wore the same uniform, but had a red bandana around his head, thick black beard, and a furious mania in his eyes.


    I said nothing in return. Gun-arm up and blocked his swing, the force buckling me down to one knee. As I went to fire off the Hekla, his boot lashed out and kicked it from my hand - the errant burst just pelting through the pillar above us, causing a brief cloud of dust to fall.


    Another two members jumped the three-foot ledge from the next floor to the rising elevator platform. One with a pistol, the other a stun baton.


    Aimed the muzzle toward the henchman, and as he brought his axe flat to block the shot by reflex, I instead stood up and barreled into him. He had sturdy footing, so instead of falling, he just stumbled back. His eyes looked down at his arm that was now streaming blood. The knife in my hand had drawn its first taste of violence and was eager for more.


    Rubber shot zipped past him and struck the guard with the gun in his forearm. It snapped the bone, and he yelled a curse as he clasped at the now-floppy limb. Pistol clattered to the floor.


    Left me open to a jab from the axe, which I took. Not really damaging, but caused me to take a couple of steps closer to the edge - perhaps more dangerous if we hadn¡¯t just arrived at floor ten.


    Rolled to the side as a hail of bullets spread over the elevator, almost taking out the two guards trying to combat me. Gun-arm up with a hiss, next Rubber projectile ejected with a thunk and struck the assailant through his light cover and into his stomach. He collapsed as he ejected whatever he had eaten last.


    Pain as my arm took a gash from the sweep of the axe. Up to my feet, I tried to gain some space, only to see another two fuzzy guards step onto the elevator. Starting to sweat now. I¡¯d been playing nice, but the mental stress was wearing my good mood away.


    Avoided the flurry of axe swings by moving back away and circling the edge of the elevator. He was trying to push me off - remove me from my intended path. V-Force drive loaded up Overcharge. If I got home soon enough, I might be able to see Roxy. I would not be delayed.


    An odd thought to have in the present situation - something I pegged to the fact that Jade was trying to wear my brain down into some manner of soup she could control. Like a¡­ soup wizard.


    Swung out at a nearby guard, which put me at a disadvantage against the henchman. Knife up, but unable to fully block the downward swing. Warm pain radiated through my shoulder as the bladed weapon sunk into muscle. I twisted the knife around to be on top of the shaft rather than below and held the axe down into the wound he had created.


    Brief confusion on his face before my muzzle turned to him. Overcharge blew the hardened Rubber projectile right between his legs. I ignored the squeal of pain and blood soaking through his uniform. White was a terrible choice for combat, anyway.


    Sweat ran down the sides of my head as I stood up straight and shrugged the axe to the floor. Drum mag fell from my gun-arm to clatter to the floor. Ten-mag in.


    Far beyond forgiveness. Maybe I was just a bad a sinner as Belle liked to purport.


    First shell blew the throat out of the closest guard. Empty cartridge bounced across smooth marble. The smell of gunpowder filtered through my re-breather. This was living.


    A wavering shot ricocheted from my cyborg arm and I killed him next. Blocked the swing of a stun prod and brought my knife up into their stomach, drawing up to the side to disembowel them. Ended the wounded henchman by spraying his brains across the now sullied marble.


    I was a killer, nothing more.


    The statement echoed around my head¡­ as if I hadn¡¯t said it. No - I was being manipulated. Allowed to sink back into the dirt where I had writhed previously. My eyes went back over to the discarded drum mag, but I didn¡¯t have the heart to pick it back up right now.


    Stumbled to the vibrating control panel and wiped the sweat from my brow. Drenched. Considered going back down so that I could leave and get some fresh air. Had enough exercise. No. No - more thoughts that weren¡¯t mine. Brought my elbow down onto the up arrow and the whole metal panel buckled. Arrow flashed on and off, the rest of the controls going inert.


    No going back now. Forced success.


    It wasn¡¯t often that I had to deal with things affecting my mind. Not to this extent. While I had managed to weather physical damage that would kill a normal person, I wondered how much of a beating my psyche could take? If I could put up with Roxy on the regular, then quite a lot.


    As I craned my head around to watch the remaining guard shakily trying to pluck the discarded pistol from the blood-slick floor, I found myself wishing that I could smile - because I would be, right now.


    Eleventh floor.


    I slid across the marbled floor and grabbed at the guard, lifting him up in front of me like a shield. Bullets shredded his body and pinged off my exposed metal arm. One-tap. Eject shell. Reloaded. One-tap.


    Three behind with melee. Everything felt sluggish. Like I was melting. A¡­ buzzing feeling had started to encroach the inside of my skull.


    Threw the man to knock one of the fresh assailants off the ledge, as the elevator hadn¡¯t stopped the slow ascent. Whipped my knife out again as I blocked a swing, but this guard was quicker and backed away. Stun prod came in from the second man, catching my left forearm. Numbed, and the blade lowered. Shotgun shot took his shoulder out, rendering his own arm inert.


    Another block and I dropped the magazine to the floor, kicking the guard in the leg at an angle. His knee produced a loud crack, and he dropped low. Elbow to his temple. As I followed through, Overcharge powered up. Empty shot to the wounded guard, and the strong gust of force burst the eyes from his head. Shock had him pass out.


    Fresh mag clicked in place, and cartridge loaded.


    Twelfth floor had¡­ no enemies. Sweat dropped to the bloodied marble as I stood there breathing heavily. Some manner of bar and dining facilities. The barman with a handlebar mustache and panic in his eyes stood statuesque as I waved to him - the living horror slowly ascending on the broken elevator. Wasn¡¯t worth killing, and I struggled to find the strength to load a Tazer shot to do him in.


    Instead, with robotic movements, I moved around the corpses and picked up my drum and ten-mag to affix to my belt. That felt like a marathon. Exhausting when it should be so natural.


    Thirteenth floor and my brain really ached now. Needles poked through and made me uncomfortable. Flashes of violence as I burst the face from one guard, while receiving the shotgun blast of another. Found myself unable to move from the place I had shuffled to. Only turn and shoot and reload and take the pain of being shot.


    The sound of empty shells bouncing across the floor somehow grounded me. Stims were keeping me on my feet, their warmth adding to the amount I was perspiring.


    Fourteenth floor only had two guards present.


    Couldn¡¯t even remember what I did with them¡­ but they were no longer in my way.


    Seemed to me that Sweet Jade had a pretty useless security team. I¡¯m sure she would pay me well to do the job - I have proven my efficiency, after all.


    Fifteenth floor, and there were just doors. Leading to her office, I assumed. No, I knew this.


    Ejected my mag to the floor and palmed at the open chamber to check nothing was loaded. Unbuckled my belt and let it stay on the elevator. Bandoliers unclipped to join the rest. Knife clattered on the marble. Boots took me over to the doors with an unnatural calm, despite dripping blood all over the carpet. That could come out of my first paycheck.


    Pushed the door open slowly to find an exquisitely furnished office. Long plush carpet leading to a wide desk of rich browns. Shelving ran along each side of the room in a similar wood - all decked out with trinkets and books. Behind the desk were tall windows that rose to the ceiling, showing of a near unparalleled view of the city.


    The woman sitting at the desk smiled widely. ¡°Certainly an entrance, mysterious stranger.¡±


    Pain wracked at my mind in pulses, as if she had her hand literally gripped around my brain.


    A sapphire dress that reflected the light as if it was multi-faceted, something that wasn¡¯t modest about showing off her ample figure. A light jacket over it, sharp white with a brooch of soft jade pinned to the right breast side. An odd tiara of similar stone atop rich brown hair that ran over one eye.


    ¡°Such strength to resist my will. I do enjoy toys that are harder to break, and I can think of so many ways of putting you to use. What is your name?¡±


    No response. Every muscle in my body was tense and struggling to maintain control. Yet I couldn¡¯t step any closer to her. My eyes were aflame with hatred, something she could see, and took pleasure in.


    ¡°No matter. I will give you a new one once you have submitted to me.¡± She held out a hand bedazzled with several rings. ¡°Things will get worse for you until you agree to my terms.¡±


    Talons tore through my mind, the weight of her power fully pressing down on my mental state. Of course, killing off her goons meant her power wasn¡¯t spread so thin. I had invited this on myself.


    ¡°Just tell me you accept and this will be all over.¡±


    Threat Level 48.


    I dropped to my knees, barely able to stand the agony burning through my whole body. She was right, it would make more sense to join her. Better than being turned into a zombie or just flat out dying. I¡¯d made many mistakes in my life, but now I could make a change.


    My senses running numb, I gave in. I accept.


    She waited patiently. I accept.


    I accept.


    Only, the dangling vocalizer at the back of my neck didn¡¯t care to relay my thoughts.


    ¡°Why won¡¯t you accept?¡± She stood and slammed her hands on the desk, not used to such disobedience.


    Trouble was, while my brain was a raging wildfire that she controlled, I had sequestered off a small part to hold two key thoughts alone. I had lost control of my muscles, but part of me was robotic and didn¡¯t work like that.


    Before my mind totally succumbed to being turned to ash, I allowed the second synapse activation to power up - the first setting up this possibility.


    Without moving my head, my cyborg arm raised up. Overcharge flashed through just as I fired the Sanguine stake.


    Glass burst away, bringing with it a cool rush of air. Loose pages fluttered around as I shivered and slowly pushed myself back up to my feet. Pain in my head subsided just as the physical agony from the wounds sustained came back.


    Sweet Jade lay across her desk, a pool of blood running from her body and soaking through the ledgers and other trash that the wind couldn¡¯t pick up. Surprise on her face, but once again, villains always suffered from their hubris. Contract complete. I turned from the office and left.


    Hit the elevator and equipped my gear once more. Raised a stiff arm up so that I could reattach my vocalizer. Drum mag loaded.


    Went up to the control panel and struck it again, the elevator shunting before a groan had it lowering back down. One floor at a time, but it knew who was in control now.


    So... tired.


    Stopped at the Twelfth floor and stepped over to the man who was looking even more frightened of me.


    With my gun-arm, I pointed over at the metal rectangles beside him.


    [What¡¯s in the freezers?]

 31 - Chilling Out

    The rest of the night was a pained blur. I had made it out of the building without too much trouble, although I was sure the trails of blood would alert the authorities to what had transpired. Couldn''t remember killing anyone else, but I had left my mark on all who had witnessed me. Whether the job could be pinned on me specifically was neither here nor there.


    I was banking on the League thinking they secretly had me in their pocket, at least in their eyes. Belle would be able to put two and two together once the villain¡¯s death was reported. If they''d known about me for a while, then there was no point worrying about my muddy footprints pointing to my currently malleable skull.


    It was a miracle that I arrived back home in one piece without passing out or being collared by the cops. Roxy¡¯s light had been out, so I resigned to getting the sleep I deserved.


    Almost forgot to turn my traps off, but with a quick message of confirmation to Boss, I had hit the mattress and fallen straight asleep. Villain killer.


    Dreamless expanse was once again broken in short order. A knocking at my door had me awake once more to this living world. Morning had arrived in what felt like five minutes, despite it being much longer. No voice to accompany the arrival of a guest, but the cadence was familiar enough.


    Grunted as I moved my aching body from my place of rest. Hadn¡¯t replaced my canister so now felt dry. A soft wash of stims helped me avoid feeling like I was tearing apart. Hadn¡¯t gone through and removed the shrapnel yet. Super suit was sticky from the blood and sweat.


    [Just one minute.]


    I stood and tried to find a way out of the outfit, some muttered curses and pained contortion eventually allowing me to pull it down to my waist so just my legs remained covered. From my workbench, I grabbed a canister and the box with the shrapnel device in.


    Over to the door, which was more awkward to open with no free hand, but to no surprise it revealed Roxy. She had a bright smile that went between different emotions once she clocked my state of undress. Clearly, the wounds I had sustained were more frightful than I had imagined.


    ¡°Damn it, Dubs.¡± She pulled a face and tugged at her tracksuit hoodie to waft fresh air over her face. ¡°Rough night, huh?¡±


    [A few light bullet wounds, nothing to write home about.]


    She rolled her eyes and pointed to the deckchairs. ¡°Sit and I¡¯ll do it. I actually came over to apologize for crashing before you got back, and to say thank you for the gift.¡±


    I looked over at her house as I walked over to the chair and sat down gingerly.


    ¡°First time anyone has given me a whole freezer before, and left it on my doorstop like a dutiful cat.¡± She grinned and sat further down the deckchair, holding her hands out for the device box.


    [Didn¡¯t want to wake you up.]


    ¡°So considerate.¡± She withdrew the shrapnel remover and checked the charge. ¡°Given that I¡¯m about to afflict you with a bunch of pain, I had something to ask you as well.¡± She pressed a finger against my bare skin, trying to find the first bullet that needed pulling out.


    [Of course, go ahead.]


    ¡°Come around and hang out for a bit?¡± Her eyes went up to mine, awaiting my reaction before she started the procedure.


    [I do need to rest and recover, and company shouldn¡¯t hinder that process.]


    ¡°Perfect.¡± She furrowed her brow. ¡°Most of these are just impact wounds.¡± Her finger went across my chest gently. ¡°Fresh tear in your shoulder looking rough. Suit absorbed enough force that your body basically naturally expelled the bullets. Still¡­ a couple down here.¡± Fingertip ran down to the side of my stomach.


    I grunted and leaned back in the deckchair so she could hit me with the business end of the device. Some time off with Roxy didn¡¯t sound so bad at all.


    [Ran into one of your teammates last night.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± She pressed the remover against my skin but didn¡¯t activate it. ¡°That sounds¡­ bad?¡±


    [Potentially. Belle. Although she seemed more interested in inviting me to her cult than-]


    The hiss and snap of the shrapnel remover caused my muscles to tense up as pain burst the bullet from the wound.


    ¡°Not that I have any say,¡± Roxy began, moving the device over to the next site, ¡°but I wouldn¡¯t get entangled with her.¡±


    [I have zero intentions in that regard.]


    Her eyes went up to mine as I watched her work, before her focus went back to the task at hand. ¡°You think you would, for anyone? Have intentions, I mean.¡±


    [Unlikely. I feel that as a-]


    I twitched again as the machine did its job and zapped the other lodged object from my body.


    [¡­as a hitman, it goes against sensible practices. Plus, I am quite the sight with my augmentations. I''m not exactly built for anything more than killing.]


    Roxy tutted, her face deflating. ¡°Don¡¯t be such a sad sack, Dubs. Relationships aren¡¯t built on you meeting some kind of minimum threshold or contract objectives. But¡­ it¡¯s not my place to lecture. You¡¯ve only just opened up to having friends, right?¡±


    I gave her a nod, for some reason I was slightly disappointed that I didn¡¯t have more shrapnel that needed removing. Shouldn¡¯t wish malady on myself, however.


    [Good thing I was labored with two good ones then.]


    She smiled and put the device back away in the case. ¡°Turn around and let me check the rest of you. And¡­ you¡¯re a good friend too, Dubs. Not every day a gal gets delivered a freezer full of ice-cream. Clara has nothing but good things to say as well.¡± She paused as I stood and turned to sit facing away from her. ¡°She¡¯s coming over tomorrow - if you¡¯ve got time to hang out then too?¡±


    [I¡¯ll make the time.]


    Not only for friendship reasons, but I had promised the techie some time to prod me around again if she could get me some more ammunition. I felt the super run her hands over my back, which felt partially more of a massage than a search for hidden shrapnel. Given how achy I still was, I let it slide.


    ¡°They say every scar is a story. Some of yours look much older than five years.¡±


    [You think I was a dumbass who got shot regularly back then too?]


    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt it!¡± She gave me a pat on the back as she stood up. ¡°Bruising and minor abrasions, but you¡¯ll heal through those in no time. We¡­ need to talk about you getting some casual clothing, though.¡±


    [The suit is very practical, even if damaged.]


    ¡°Yeah, well¡­ unless you plan on doing my yardwork, we can¡¯t have you walking about in a state of such undress.¡± She stepped away from the deckchair toward her house.


    I sat back up properly and looked over at her - but she wasn¡¯t looking at me. Wouldn¡¯t even know where to begin when it came to garden management, so I didn¡¯t understand her angle.


    [My cybernetics make traditional clothing untenable. If you have any contacts, then I¡¯d be willing to pay for whatever you thought was best.]


    Roxy then turned back to me, and it looked like the day was rather too warm for her to be wearing black, as her cheeks were slightly flush. ¡°Sure. I¡¯m no fashionista myself, but I reckon some comfortable sportswear would suit you well enough.¡±


    [My unclothed body is in your capable hands then.]


    She exhaled and shook her head, words escaping her for a moment. ¡°You know, it¡¯s really difficult to read you sometimes.¡±


    [Would taking off my goggles help?]


    ¡°No. Well, I don¡¯t know.¡± She waved me away in exasperation. ¡°Just go get decent and swing by when ready. Lounge is on the right.¡±


    With that said, she was off. I watched her leave for a few seconds before turning back to my present state. All things told, I hadn¡¯t come out of that fight too injured. The super suit had certainly pulled its weight, and I only had the mental trauma of seeing Belle still aching away inside my skull. Oh, and the villain trying to corrupt my brain, I supposed.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Replaced my canister and picked up the box containing the remover. Muscles ached from the fresh wounds as I stood - but thankfully, it was just the two. Stims had done some good work while I had slept.


    Stepped back into my depression box and unloaded all the things I had apparently slept in. Belt and miscellaneous ammunition. Empty can in the pile, box back on the workbench. With some effort, I put my gun-arm through the hole in the suit and pulled it back on. Felt actually comfortable - I¡¯d acclimated to it already.


    Still some stains and minor tears that it hadn¡¯t managed to self-repair, but miracles didn¡¯t often grace my life. Ignoring all the time that I skirted death by an inch.


    That was me pretty much ready for the ¡®hang out¡¯. Low maintenance, to a degree. Should probably check the messages from Boss that I had been ignoring.


    Boss: Excellent work. Truly, I am impressed.


    Boss: A little too much visibility, but taken care of. High-profile contracts do have that downside.


    Boss: Credits transferred, hold for further pickup instructions.


    Boss: Enjoy the time off with the super you¡¯re soft on and let me know if anything develops with the League.


    I exhaled through my re-breather and closed it down. Didn¡¯t feel much like replying or letting him know I was still alive. I had a feeling he knew, anyway. My mind started slipping toward more dour thoughts, but I shook it off.


    Out of the shack and into the warm sunlight again. Scour away the misery. Boots went from gravel to soft grass, and then the wooden porch of Roxy¡¯s house. Still wasn¡¯t sure what I was getting myself in for, but there was a lot less trepidation compared to the housewarming. Door open, and her voice came from the kitchen.


    ¡°I had a quick dig around. If you head up to the bathroom first, there are some clothes that might fit you.¡±


    [Thank you.]


    Hit the stairs and circled into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Gave the empty bath a longing look¡­ a favor to ask of her later, perhaps. On the counter beside the sink, she had left a couple of folded garments.


    Struggled for a while to get out of my suit. New outfit was an oversized t-shirt and some compression shorts. Handy that she liked to wear baggy clothes so often. The plain white shirt wasn¡¯t made for my cyborg arm in mind, so the sleeve on the right was tight and uncomfortable around the joint - but after enough effort, I was dressed.


    Left my boots and suit in a tidy enough pile on the floor to retrieve later. Looked at myself in the mirror. Another odd look for me, that was just so¡­ casual. With a sigh, I lifted my goggles up to my forehead and allowed my eyes to adjust to the change in lighting and hue. Gave myself a shrug, as if externalizing something my brain just couldn¡¯t work through - and then went back down the stairs.


    The lounge itself was a simple affair. Long couch facing the front window, where a small television sat. Single recliner on the side opposite the door. Wooden slats on the back side that appeared to be a storage cupboard or two. More paintings on the soft white walls. Rustic wooden furniture that continued the theme. Coffee table in the center. It was¡­ a home. Something that made my chest ache for some reason.


    I took myself over and sat on the single recliner. The most heavenly thing I¡¯d ever placed myself upon. Maybe I could steal it.


    Any further thoughts of treachery were scrubbed away as Roxy entered the room, a tub of ice-cream in her hands, a spoon already dug in. More to my surprise was that she was no longer wearing baggy clothes - but had black compression shorts, with a loose white tank top over a sports bra.


    ¡°There were two mint choc chip tubs in that freezer, Dubs,¡± she said with a grin. ¡°Not to mention the eight others - League will fuckin¡¯ murder me.¡±


    She sat in the middle of the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table, taking a scoop of the stolen treat while I struggled to find words.


    ¡°You alright there? Clothes just about fit is seems.¡±


    [Oh, yes. Apologies. I was briefly taken aback at your casual attire, but I appreciate the clothing.]


    ¡°Eh.¡± She waved the spoon toward me. ¡°Few see me like this, so feel honored, punk. I trust that you don¡¯t judge me, or at least know better and keep your yapper shut.¡±


    Half of the power of a super was their branding, to be an asset to the League. Celebrities to a degree, constantly under the scrutiny of the public eye. Even out here in the wastes, she didn¡¯t have the confidence to leave the house in anything that wasn¡¯t her super suit or baggy clothes.


    Only within the confines of her home would she bare her scars and amusing tan lines. I wasn¡¯t even sure why the League felt the need to pad out her suit when she looked¡­


    [No judgements here.]


    Shuffled any further thoughts out of a hatch in my brain.


    ¡°That¡¯s why we get on so well, Dubs.¡± She took another mouthful of ice-cream, before gesturing to my arm. ¡°Oh, here. Let me.¡± Leaning forward, she placed the tub down and pulled open a slim drawer from beneath the table. Into her hand spun a pair of scissors.


    She stepped over to me and grabbed at the tight sleeve around my cybernetics. A quick cut and the pressure was released - and she continued to remove the whole sleeve.


    [Are you sure that is okay?]


    ¡°Shut the fuck up, Dubs. Of course it is, otherwise I wouldn¡¯t be doing it.¡± She looked me in the eyes for a moment, before taking the sharp object and removed fabric away. ¡°Sometimes you¡¯re too polite, you know. Unless you¡¯re in the heat of combat.¡±


    [I do get a bit carried away when incensed.]


    She placed the objects on the table and retrieved the ice-cream. ¡°This is good shit, by the way. Whoever you took it from had good taste.¡±


    Possibly. I wasn¡¯t sure how much information I could give her. The League knew a lot, and Boss knew a lot. I figured the only secrets were Roxy and Clara helping me find out my past as a super soldier, and our potential pact to get away from both Boss and the League.


    [Nothing turn up on the tracker from last night?]


    She shook her head and finished her mouthful. ¡°Haven¡¯t checked it, to be honest. You make a big mess?¡±


    [Probably ruffled a few feathers. Ice-cream theft is a usually beneath my paygrade.]


    ¡°Ass.¡± She smiled. ¡°As if that was your main objective. Given the state you were in this morning, I bet it was just a wild state of delirium that caused you to yoink a whole freezer.¡±


    [My mind was crystal clear.]


    It wasn¡¯t, but there were enough interlinking chains to make it believable. Had promised to sit and watch her eat the frozen dairy stuff if given the chance. Seemed pragmatic while I had the opportunity.


    ¡°Yeah, well. You¡¯ve made yourself an accomplice to my misdeeds now. I¡¯m supposed to be exercising. Instead, I am sitting here ruining my schedule and diet.¡± The spoon pointed at me. ¡°And before you start apologizing, this is my choice, asshole. I¡¯d much rather hang out with you and feel like someone normal for a change.¡±


    [No complaints here.]


    ¡°Good answer.¡± She sighed and sunk into her couch more. ¡°As much as I do like to work out, the solitude of the basement gets to me when it¡¯s every single day. And¡­ I¡¯d ask if you wanted to join in - but even being the beefcake that you are, I only have equipment designed for my strength level.¡± Roxy frowned at her ice-cream.


    Before I could attempt any sort of reply to that, I was caught up on the fact that this place apparently had a basement. Given that I had seen the house airdrop into place on the empty land beside my residence, I had more questions than were probably healthy. I could hand wave the running water supply away with being vague tech-magic, but a whole furnished floor below us right now?


    There was clearly a lot more going on that I had been aware of. In saying that, my existence had followed that trend up until the super had landed next door. My eyes went back over to her to see that she had been waiting for me to say something.


    [For what it¡¯s worth, I would not be opposed to training with you.]


    ¡°Ah, see - you¡¯re too agreeable sometimes, Dubs.¡± Her spoon dug through the container. ¡°There¡¯s no need to go with along with all the shit I say.¡±


    [No, I¡¯ve been thinking I need to pick up a hobby. Something that can improve my fitness sounds like it would be worthwhile. Plus, the great company.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m kind of an angry bitch when I¡¯m in the zone, but if you¡¯re able to put up with that¡­ sure, let''s make that happen.¡± She smiled and put the laden spoon in her mouth.


    Sounds like I had just earned myself an excuse to take regular bubble baths. A simple ploy that she had fallen for easily. My left hand went up, and I rubbed at my eyes. This was probably the longest they¡¯d gone un-goggled for a while and it was oddly exhausting, as if they weren''t ready for reality just as I hadn''t been.


    ¡°Bet you¡¯re still beat. Sorry I woke you¡­ but I¡¯d feel guilty eating the ice-cream without you here, even if I feel guilty that you can¡¯t eat ice-cream too.¡± Her face wrinkled up. ¡°Give me the details. I want the gossip on who was keeping you up all night.¡± Feet returned to the coffee table, and she wagged her eyebrows up and down.


    [Are you sure that is wise?]


    ¡°It¡¯s all good. Another mob boss, maybe? A ruthless gang that needed culling? Some other real evil prick?¡±


    [A villain.]


    She paused, the spoon full of freshly scooped mint choc chip just hovering in the air as she stared at me. ¡°No shit? I didn¡¯t think you did that kind of thing.¡±


    [I normally don¡¯t. it''s becoming a bad habit.]


    The super looked honestly surprised and unsure how much to believe me. I could hardly believe it. I¡¯d gone five years without crossing paths with neither hero nor villain, and now I couldn¡¯t get away from them.


    ¡°Pretty lucky for a cyborg-ass hitman, then. Or unlucky.¡± Playing a little dumb for any potential League ears, but her eyes were alight with some excitement, as if my survival pointed to something meaningful. ¡°Who was it?¡±


    [Sweet Jade.]


    ¡°No.¡± She sat back up and leaned forward, her voice hushed. ¡°Tell me you aren¡¯t bullshitting, Dubs.¡±


    [Perhaps it is time you checked your tracker.]


    ¡°Ugh, but I¡¯m trying to avoid work,¡± she whined. Roxy placed the near-empty tub on the table and held a hand up to her temple - which seemed to bring up whatever her version of the STAR and lense could do. Her eyes went back and forth as she read through invisible text.


    Might be an idea for me to check mine too, but I didn¡¯t feel like it. I was socializing with a friend, in casual clothes, and had possibly picked up a hobby to do in my leisure time. I was¡­ happy?


    Even with the aches of the latest violent episode still ringing at the back of my existence, I had started to claw my way up to having a real life. Still a killer - something told me that I¡¯d never shake that part of who I was¡­ but looking over at the catalyst that had caused this change in me, I couldn¡¯t help but be thankful for Roxy. Even if she had been very annoying at first.


    The super let out a long, extended sigh. ¡°Fuckers. I¡¯ve been called in. They want to go over their decision in regards to the team mission. Also, fuck me, Dubs. Skyblade was big, but Sweet Jade as well? You¡¯re more dangerous than you look.¡±


    [I will choose to take that as a compliment.]


    ¡°Good, as it was meant to be.¡± She stood up and ran a hand through her hair. ¡°Sorry to cut our little playdate¡­ our hanging out time short. I¡¯d say you¡¯re welcome to remain here, but I am a whirlwind when I need to rush and you don¡¯t deserve a mouthful or eyeful of that train wreck.¡±


    I stood up and gave her a nod.


    [Of course, it has been a pleasure. I look forward to tomorrow.]


    ¡°Same here, Dubs.¡± Her smile brightened, and she wavered a second before moving to exit the room. ¡°Oh, before you go, I left you something in the kitchen.¡±


    Left hand went up to lower my goggles as I followed her out. She turned to go up the stairs and stopped. ¡°I¡¯ll get your suit washed and drop you a message later, okay?¡±


    [Thanks, Roxy.]


    A nod to accompany her warm smile, and she ascended. I watched her for a few seconds before turning my attention to the kitchen - not usually a place where I¡¯d find useful things.


    Stepping through, the newly acquired freezer sat on one of the countertops. A dent in one side of the metal paneling. As much as I would like to assume it was from dropping it off my bike at some point, my hazy memory remembered knocking out the barman with it.


    That wasn¡¯t the point of interest, however, as instead there was a brown box sitting close by. In very small but clear lettering, it read ¡®Mr Dubs¡¯.


    My new toys to play with.

 32 - Brought Forward

    I stood outside in the sunshine, not wanting to grace the shadowed hovel that I currently called home with my presence. In the white t-shirt and black shorts, I waited for my lense to confirm that the new equipment had synced properly.


    Brown box sat on the deckchair, as I had removed the sideloader immediately and found how to click it in place.


    With a quick wave, Roxy had left for the city about ten minutes ago. The odd feeling of emptiness had faded away as the frustration of the new tech not fitting just right took its place. But now it was done.


    Lense confirmed the process was all green.


    I pointed my gun-arm out to the empty wastes and narrowed my eyes. Racked the chamber open, and tiny mechanisms on the sideloader whirred and prodded towards the opening. Everything empty, but it seemed to work fine. Chamber closed.


    Back to the box and there was a round disc gadget. Must be the Maintenance node mentioned on the invoice. Three small wires poked out of the back of it, where a note had been attached. It told me to wait, Clara would install it.


    Last item in my gift package was the part to affix to the handlebar on my bike. A loose tube shape with a high friction surface, so that my gun-arm could rest against it and allow me to turn with greater ease.


    //W: Package received. Many thanks.


    //Clara: Node will literally kill you if installed incorrectly.


    //Clara: But I trust you would heed my warnings.


    //W: Node is untouched, and I am alive.


    //Clara: Rockslide mentioned your twilight activities.


    //Clara: We will talk more tomorrow.


    //Clara: But, keep doing what feels right, Mr Dubs.


    What an odd sign-off. Keep doing what feels right?


    Killing targets and fulfilling my contracts felt right.


    Befriending Roxy and Clara felt right.


    Living a more normal life felt... right.


    Yet¡­ putting myself against dangerous opponents far beyond my capability and still scraping through the victory was the sweetest thing of all. I had tried to shuffle away those feelings, but¡­


    Defeating Skyblade. Being able to barely counter the powers of Sweet Jade. Both things warmed my heart. Made me feel accomplished more than plowing through two dozen gangsters with ease ever could.


    What did that say about me? Did I just enjoy the suffering, or was I really meant for something greater than being a hired gun?


    No matter. Today wasn¡¯t the place for dour thoughts. I boxed the node back up and placed it just inside my doorway so that I wouldn¡¯t have to enter fully. Circled to the side of my home and clipped on the handlebar addition.


    Hand and side-of-my-gun on hips, I looked out at the day before me. Still relatively early. Boss wouldn¡¯t give me a new contract so soon and hadn¡¯t sent pickup instructions for my reward. Roxy and Clara were both busy with their day jobs and I¡­


    I couldn¡¯t stand the thought of doing nothing. Normally, I could stare at the wall for hours, waiting for something to happen. But now I wanted to¡­ my eyes went over to the city.


    Into my house¡ªa necessary evil¡ªI dug around the crates for my spare boots.


    //W: Got anything to mask my gun-arm?


    //Clara: Like a shroud? I could probably fabricate something to go over the barrel.


    //Clara: To make it look like a drill?


    //W: Perfect - I realize I am asking a lot of you. I appreciate everything.


    //Clara: No issue, it is a blessing to have someone keep my mind active.


    //Clara: I am under instruction from Rockslide to do anything you ask of me.


    //Clara: You just need to say the word.


    I closed the chat window down and pulled a face - with what active parts of it weren¡¯t covered by my mask. While it was nice that Clara was fully onboard with my progression, her phrasing could use some work.


    Faux-drill would take some time, and I was uncharacteristically impatient. Wanted to chew through this new life and get a taste of it. An odd metaphor, considering.


    Bike whirred into life. I adjusted my seating to see how the new hand-rest felt. Should probably pick up a helmet soon. Dashing my brains out in a vehicular collision would be a bit of a drab way to end things. I¡¯d earned a good death at this point, I hoped.


    Cloud of dust kicked up as the motorbike pulled forward, sensors eventually pinging my departure from our two-house neighborhood. With the League seeing me as a pawn, and Boss willing that to happen so as to reverse the game on them, I felt more comfortable in being overt with appearing in the city under the light of the sun for a change.


    Destination? One of the grimier stretches of road slightly further east. I¡¯d seen the name of a shop a handful of times in the last five years. Hal¡¯s Handovers. A courier service that gave off the impression they¡¯d go the extra mile, even if it dabbled in grayer areas of the law.


    But having a way to spend my hard earned credits would be a big step in me leaving my hovel of desperation. At least, without having to go into the city every time I needed a new shirt or the magical bubble potions.


    I caught a few eyes as I weaved my way through the streets of Goldarch. Considering how busy this time of day seemed to be, it was a lot less attention than I had expected. Cybernetics aside, perhaps the casual clothes made me stand out less. Could I have lived like this all this time?


    Rolled to a stop at the beaming red of a traffic light. Turned my head to the side to see a cop car pull up in the next lane. Two men shaded by the confines of their vehicle looked my way, blank expressions beneath their hats.


    [Officers.]


    I gave them a brief nod. They did not return it, but turned away as the light changed to a bright green. Much better than them drawing pistols or pulling me over because I looked like an escaped lunatic. Not that I didn¡¯t look odd with my cybernetics, but something about my outfit signaled that I was up to something reasonably legal. Hiding in plain sight. I should have known it was this easy.


    Pulled away just after them and went further along the road before hitting a right. Much more residential than I was used to - although there were plenty of shopfronts that had housing atop them. Tower blocks in the backgrounds. People milling around doing their normal daily errands. Most looked content enough.


    Was this what heroes felt like?


    Not in the literal sense, but I was more powerful than most that I passed. A super solider with cyborg augmentations. Even dressed to fit in, I was beyond them and so much different. Superheroes were also this way, but stuck around to impress and try to save these civilians leading simple existences.


    Any further reflections shuddered from out my ears as I pulled the bike up against the curb and set the kickstand down. There was the shop.


    Bold text title over worn and faded wood. Might have been bright yellow at some point, but now was a tired brown. Too many years in the sun with little upkeep. Large window was dusty and mostly obscured by flyers. Would have looked closed¡ªif not abandoned¡ªwere it not for the open sign pinned on the door.


    I had made the choice to enter the city unarmed, aside from the single remaining Sanguine stake. Didn¡¯t want to invite any trouble, despite it seemingly being my nature. Just wanted to get this business deal off the ground, and then maybe take a more scenic route home and see if there was anything else in this end of the city that caught my eye.


    Stepping away from my bike, I adjusted the clothes I wasn¡¯t used to wearing yet. I never thought I¡¯d miss the super suit, but after testing one out in the field, it turned out there were some uses other than to titillate the masses.


    A sigh escaped my re-breather as I pushed open the door. Alongside the tinkle of a small bell above the entrance, I was immediately assailed by a thick musky smell. Long forgotten dust and aged wood. Like they hadn¡¯t opened a window to air out in years.


    The left side of the room had a row of chairs, each looking to out-compete the others in how long they could hold off on retiring and claiming a pension. Neck and neck. Above them, the shop''s name once more in ink that was probably once black, but had faded to a brown-gray and was partially covered by posters for events and initiatives that had long passed.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Right wall had a wooden rack along it holding pamphlets and catalogues. Plenty of them yellowed from the sunlight that managed to enter through the part of the window not clouded up. Dogeared in places, but some seemed newer or less used. Most likely ways for people to find something to order if they didn¡¯t have STAR or city-net access.


    Across the dirtied tile floor head of me was a counter. The freshest looking thing in the shop - uncomfortably so, as if it had been installed this very morning. Hadn¡¯t even had the time to accumulate the clutter and dust the rest of the place was layered with.


    The shop proprietor stood there. He was an iguana-looking Anthrasc. Scaled skin of a dusty green-yellow hue, large round eyes an interesting pink color, and a wrinkled high-collar shirt that had a garish cactus print all around it.


    ¡°Morning, sah,¡± he began, a slight rural twinge to his voice that reminded me of Roxy. ¡°How can I be helping yah?¡±


    [Greetings. I am looking for a courier service and had a few questions.]


    ¡°Came to the right place then! Name¡¯s Hal, son of the Hal who started up this place.¡± He grinned and leaned forward on the counter. ¡°Shoot.¡±


    Tempting, but wouldn¡¯t be very beneficial to my current agenda. Oh, but he probably was asking for my questions.


    [How close can you deliver to the wastes?]


    Hal pulled a face, and a long tongue came out to lick around his lips. ¡°Ah. We have a few runners that might, but it depends how far¡­ and there¡¯s a premium, yah understand?¡±


    [Acceptable. Do you have a map?]


    ¡°Sure thing, mister¡­?¡±


    [Dubs.]


    Might as well lean into it. Not much of a name¡­ but neither was Agent W.


    Hal gave me a nod, before turning to one of the low cupboards out of sight. Murmuring to himself, I watched as he dug through stacks of paperwork before finally withdrawing a large folded sheet.


    As he opened it up across the counter, I was once again shocked at how large a city Goldarch really was. More of a state, if anything - but my world history was spotty. I had kept to one side for the most part. My vision of what was north or west paled in comparison to the whole.


    Giving it a once-over, I then placed my finger somewhere slightly north of my actual home. Somewhere I could build a drop-off point with cameras, so that if anyone squeezed the location from Hal or the courier, they¡¯d still be off enough to give me an early warning.


    [About here would be perfect, I can provide exact coordinates when appropriate.]


    ¡°Not impossible.¡± He rubbed at his chin. ¡°I have a guy in mind who would be up for that. Are we talking one-off or regular?¡±


    [Regular. What are the weight or bulk restrictions?]


    ¡°We can do most domestic things, sah. Can¡¯t deliver a whole house, of course. If you¡¯re looking for wholesale or construction then I have some others in the business I can recommend.¡± He stood back up straight. ¡°Our boy has a van, so anything bigger would be a no-go.¡±


    Shame they wouldn¡¯t be able to bring me over a house. A bath¡­ maybe. I paused as something jostled and dragged on my gun-arm.


    Looked down, expecting this bubble of normality to be thrown into violence once more.


    It was a small iguana-boy, wide eyes looking up at me while his hands clasped around my arm.


    ¡°Neat gun, mistah!¡±


    Hal grunted and leaned forward to look over the counter at the boy. ¡°What I tell you about bugging customers, Schroeder?¡±


    [It¡¯s not a gun, it¡¯s¡­ a partially assembled drill unit.]


    ¡°Nah! This looks exactly like what they used in Violent Murderbot 3 against the bug invasion!¡±


    I was hoping that was a movie, although he looked rather young for something with that manner of title. Not that I was one to judge. The things I got up to probably made that kind of show look like a kid¡¯s cartoon.


    ¡°Skedaddle, already!¡± Hal tried to shoo the young one out to the back door - which eventually worked. ¡°Always popping up when I¡¯m trying to close a deal.¡±


    He watched him go up the stairs out of my line of sight before turning his large eyes back to me. ¡°Sorry about that, Mr Dubs. Schroeder is a smart kid and means well, but with his ma gone it¡¯s hard to find the time to temper his overflowing forge.¡±


    [No apology necessary. I would like to sign the contract for your services.]


    ¡°Right you are!¡± He grinned, showing off sharp but relatively short teeth. ¡°Now, we do require a deposit of 500 credits, for insurance and the like.¡±


    I nodded as he tallied up an invoice on a small device. Courier work had some danger to it, even more so going outside the city limits. Criminals probably used the service too, so the deposit helped cover those who didn¡¯t show or welched on their bill.


    ¡°Just so you know,¡± he said quietly, ¡°there¡¯s been a few fellas out front keeping an eye on you.¡±


    It was something I had been aware of. Oddly shaped shadows moving across the back of the shop from where the sun made its dismal attempt to light the place. Wasn¡¯t sure exactly why I had gotten the attention as such a normal-man today.


    //W: Clara. Is my bike likely to garner unwanted attention in the city?


    /Clara: Yes.


    No further explanation came - she must be busy. I could read between the lines, however. I¡¯d stolen the vehicle from a prominent gang leader, so if other gangs recognized it, I would reap that reward. On my mental list, I added getting the vehicle repainted and modified.


    [Do not worry, I am not so easily bullied.]


    Hal held out the invoice for me to pay digitally. ¡°Need me to call the cops?¡±


    [Whatever happens, just keep yourself and your son safe.]


    My STAR completed the payment and added the contact details for both the shop and my assigned courier - showing as ¡®VM¡¯. Hal gave me a nod of thanks, but was looking nervous about the potential gang violence on his doorstep. He¡¯d seen worse, I could tell. The door would have a remote lock and he¡¯d have something for self-defense beneath the counter. You couldn¡¯t survive this long without that kind of preparedness.


    [Was a pleasure meeting and doing business with you, Hal. Take care.]


    ¡°You too, sah. Look after yourself and send over the drop coordinates with your first order.¡±


    [Oh - one last thing. Do you have a pen I could borrow?]


    Bell tinkled once more as I stepped out into the daylight. Painting the stage already prepared for me to become the main star of this performance. Which was somewhat apt, as this gang appeared to be some kind of clowns. Or worse - mimes.


    Small bowler hats atop frizzy haircuts, their faces daubed a ghostly white while black circles had been drawn around their eyes and mouths. Maybe to look like skulls? Clown skeletons? Outfits were mismatched but all monochrome. Flared jackets and pants, stripes of black and white.


    They were standing around the shop in a semi-circle, intending from the start to pen me in.


    [I¡¯m not who you think I am. It would be best to let me pass.]


    ¡°Best for who?¡± The one ahead of me said, a wry smile crossing his lips.


    ¡°Best for who?¡± echoed around the rest of them as they whispered the same question. Some manner of intimidation tactic? Eight of them.


    I struggled to not come out with a threat in response. This was my day off. My eyes went around the group. No firearms, but they were armed with melee weapons. My V-Force drive was already humming with potential, but I was hesitant to give in and do what I was best at. For once in this life, I would just walk away.


    [I¡¯m going to leave now. Good day, gentlemen.]


    I made it a good three steps into the street, before the air split apart, a heavy crack striking me in the left shoulder. Stims washed through me as I looked back at my assailant.


    Electro-whip in his hand. The grip of it illuminated in blue. Thankfully, the electric part of the weapon was just for making it to hit harder without as much physical effort. The gash through my shirt and bleeding flesh didn¡¯t care for the difference.


    [Last warning.]


    Their response was to draw another four whips. Others had knives or other short range melee weapons, but their plan was a simple three-part attack. As I had stepped into the road, the gang members in my peripheral had moved around so that they could fully surround me better. Next up, the whips would assail me until I was a weakened pulp - allowing the coup de grace from the undefendable blades of the others.


    Worried eyes in the distance as the locals either got the hell away from what was about to happen, or hid away to watch events unfold. Probably not brave enough to get involved¡ªeven to call the authorities¡ªespecially if this gang was known around the area.


    I managed to block the next attack with my gun-arm, the sharp tip of the whip doing nothing to the metal plating. Left me open, and another thug struck me across the back. Pain just angered me, and I turned - only to receive a whip from the other side.


    An effective strategy, but not a set of rules I cared to play anymore.


    Turned my glare toward the leader and charged towards him. Ignore the lash across my chest, but the next struck just above my right boot. Muscle tensed and cramped, and I dropped to a roll. Back up into a crouch and a dagger buried itself just above my collarbone. The leader glared down at me with sadistic eyes and a wide grin.


    V-Force drive blew the loaded pen straight into the side of his knee.


    As he squealed and dropped back, I stood and elbowed him to the face. One whip struck my cyborg arm, and a second ripped through the side of my stomach that had been hit with the shrapnel remover this morning.


    Overcharge blasted through the air to deflect one of the quick attacks, knocking the assailant back a couple of feet - but they still had the advantage of range. Left hand grabbed at the leader to bring him up as a shield, until a crack across the back of my elbow had my hand go numb.


    Twisted to block another with my gun-arm, before my knee was struck. Lost my footing and dropped to the good knee. Tried to grasp for some gravel or something, but there was nothing there and my fingers weren¡¯t cooperating.


    Uncontested strike to my head. Ears rang as I felt the warm blood run from the throbbing impact point. Eyes that were so tired of this went up to check my notifications.


    //Roxy: Done here. Important news to share.


    //Roxy: Coming home now.


    I sent her my coordinates.


    It must be news of whatever the League had decided my fate was to be. If they wanted to get rid of me, then I¡¯d rather hear it sooner than later. Especially as it would determine how much I cared about these thugs breaking my skull open.


    They paused their assault, and I looked up into the sky. A small shockwave in the air had drawn their attention away from carving me up, and the dark shape moving through the sky had a hint of familiarity to it.


    Like a bomb, Roxy cratered down and struck the street a few feet away from me, cracking the concrete and blowing a wave of dust around us. Her eyes were literally glowing amber, something I¡¯d never seen before. She gave the gang a slow glare as she turned around and stepped closer to me.


    Roxy held out a hand to help me to my feet, which I took.


    ¡°Any of you assholes strike my sidekick again, and you¡¯ll be shitting out your own teeth for a week.¡±


    Faced with an actual superhero, their bravado sunk away into the gutter, white face paint circling the drain as their life choices were put to question.


    At least, except for one of the thugs who decided whipping the super was a smart decision¡ªdespite the threat¡ªalmost immediately breaking the pensive silence with a sharp crack. The rest of the group had the decency to look horrified at the gall. Where the weapon struck Roxy on her exposed arm, a thin red line remained, but it had dealt very little damage.


    I righted myself and stood back to back with her, blood soaked through my now ragged shirt.


    [Any of you strike Rockslide again, and you¡¯ll be shitting the whole gang¡¯s teeth for a week.]

 33 - Out in the Open

    For a few moments, I felt anew.


    The attempt at being a ¡®normal¡¯ person had lasted about as long as could be expected. Would be difficult to imagine it could have ended other way. Now I stood in the middle of a cracked street, eyes of civilians all around me, bathed in sunlight, and soaked through with my own blood.


    But standing beside the super who had come to my rescue had shuffled some old memories. Nothing detailed, but the water had become murkier as sediment rose from whatever was covered deep within my old life.


    Didn¡¯t have the time to wait for things to settle so I could get a clearer picture. Still surrounded by the gang who wanted to whip and stab me to death, we had come to an impasse where they weren¡¯t keen on Roxy stepping in to make it more of a fairer fight. Well, that scale had shifted dramatically to the other side with her appearance.


    Even though we were standing back to back, I could feel the confidence radiating from her posture. Her shadow showed that she had her fists up, ready to brawl. She could tear the thugs apart as if they were made of wet cardboard, but she had to restrain herself for the League. Subdue and arrest.


    She had called me her sidekick when landing, so I¡¯d play along for now. This was her world and her job, so a good friend would support her. I waited for her lead.


    Also, the blood loss was starting to tire me.


    ¡°I¡¯m actually ahead of my quota this month,¡± she broke the silence, ¡°so I only need to arrest¡­ four of you.¡±


    The supposed leader was still out cold with a pen through his knee, so that made him an easy mark. For the rest of the seven gang members, it was a little more difficult. They tensed up and looked between each other, not wanting to be the ones to be left behind - but Roxy hadn¡¯t explicitly said what would happen to the others. Indecision had them panicked and frozen.


    In her position, I might have let four run. Beating up or killing gang members didn¡¯t really further any of my goals. But I had a role to play here as well.


    [Perhaps we can arrest four each then. I could do with the extra credit.]


    ¡°Hmm. Yeah, alright - that¡¯s a deal.¡± Her posture relaxed and her arm gestured to the curb. ¡°Weapons down and everyone go sit there. I¡¯m allowed to subdue anyone who resists, and that includes breaking one or both legs.¡±


    A clatter of objects dropped to the street around us as the gang members played ball. I relaxed too, but kept an eye on those closest as they moved out from their circle and went to sit in a line. I turned to Roxy, and she gave me a brief nod and smile before going over to the group of men. Two of them moved the leader¡¯s inert form, which was handy.


    While the super called in for collection, I went around and gathered up the weapons. Not an easy task with one hand, but after removing my shredded shirt, I used it to bundle up the whips while my belt held the handful of knives.


    I turned as Roxy walked back up to me, the gang members tied up by the ankles and wrists already.


    ¡°Well, that shirt didn¡¯t even last half a day.¡±


    [I apologize.]


    She shook her head and sighed. ¡°It¡¯s fine. You okay though? Some nasty looking gouges in that torso of yours.¡± Her eyes ran over me, full of concern, as she gestured for me to turn around.


    [Probably would have died if you didn¡¯t show up. So, thank you.]


    ¡°You¡¯re not seriously telling me you would have let those punks end you after everything else you¡¯ve been through? You didn¡¯t have any non-lethal ammo at least?¡±


    I shook my head and turned back to face her. Placing the gathered weapons on the ground, I used my left hand to lift my goggles up so she could see my eyes.


    [No. I brought nothing with me in an attempt to live like a regular guy.]


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t.¡± She waved a hand at me and turned to look down the street. ¡°I feel guilty enough without those big puppy-dog eyes.¡±


    [There¡¯s no need to feel guilty. Today has been perfect, there was bound to be some rough patches on my route to a glow up.]


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± She crossed her arms and turned back to me. ¡°Listen, I¡¯ll finish things up here so you can get back home and¡­ hey, go take a bath and get cleaned up, okay? I won¡¯t be back for an hour or so, and I trust you not to do any weird shit.¡±


    [May I use the bubble juice?]


    ¡°Of course.¡± She rolled her eyes, but smiled. ¡°You are a weird one. But, hey - the reason I was tracking you down in the first place¡­¡± Roxy pulled and face and took a deep breath. ¡°Well, League wants to give you the actual sidekick route.¡±


    I nodded slowly. Seems as though my performance in the clone factory had been decent enough despite almost dying. That said, they weren¡¯t looking at me as they would any other provisional helping-hand. They saw me as a figure of interest for my past and my connection to Boss. This was just their way of getting their claws in.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to give me an answer now. Go think about it. Maybe we can decide tomorrow?¡± Her face relaxed again, perhaps looking forward to our hanging-out time with Clara.


    [Do you want me to be your sidekick?]


    ¡°Oh.¡± Her eyebrows raised. ¡°I mean, I think I would be beneficial for the both of us.¡±


    [Not quite a ¡®yes¡¯, but I¡¯ll take it.]


    Before she could raise a response, I lowered my goggles and started back off toward my bike. After all, a bath was calling to me.


    It was still where I left it, considerably unharmed, given that it seemed to be a focal point for every gang¡¯s ire at this point. As much as Clara said I could lean on her for help whenever, I didn¡¯t want to seem needy - especially as this new venture had a lot of start-up costs.


    Agent W: Have any contacts for vehicle modification? Stole a gang bike that needs at least a repaint.


    Boss: Will drop you the info within the hour.


    I¡¯d let Boss know about my upgrade to trial-sidekick from provisional-sidekick after tomorrow¡¯s meeting with the two women. I was bound to accept and play along with the League¡¯s game, but the exact details of that arrangement would need to be worked out before I could sign off.


    Bike hummed into life and I set away, one last glance at the super standing by the captured thugs just as the twinkle of cop''s lights sparked down the other end of the street.


    Now covered with blood and whip-wounds, I looked more of a horror show as I traced my way back through the city. Cybernetics on full display, it was perhaps only by luck that I didn¡¯t run into more figures of authority on the way out - but soon enough the dust of the outer border started to sting at my wounds. Somehow enough to prompt my stims to flood my system again.


    Rolled up to my yard and switched off.


    Sat there for a moment taking stock of the two houses, and thinking over what I had achieved today.


    Even once I had gotten any drop of gang affliction squeezed from the vehicle, I couldn¡¯t trust reality enough to let me go unarmed again. Perhaps I¡¯d just have to do most of my business at night, like usual.


    With enough thinking done for now, I stepped away from the bike and went over to Roxy¡¯s house. Across the soft grass to the path, onto the wooden porch, and then I stood in front of the door.


    Felt odd to go in when she wasn¡¯t here, but I had permission. Hand tried the handle, and it was unlocked. Stepped in and closed the door behind me. So quiet. Eyes went to the kitchen on my left, before the lounge on the right. Shrugged to myself and hit the stairs. As much as part of me was curious as to how she had a basement, she had also put trust in me that I wouldn¡¯t do anything weird.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I wasn¡¯t about to sully our fledgling friendship by digging around where I didn¡¯t belong.


    At the top of the stairs, I could see her bedroom, the door slightly ajar. Probably had an actual bed in it. I paused and tried to imagine how good the sleep must be in a fresh, clean, and not-directly-on-the-floor bed. Room to the right that was closed, no indication what it was for. Some minor debris on the floor here, up against the walls from where she had burst through previously.


    Pushed through into the bathroom ahead of me, wondering how she had that hole patched up already. Closed the door and hit the taps. Bottle of ¡®bubble bath¡¯ on the side of the sink. Such an obvious name for the magical liquid, I should have guessed. Squeezed way too much of it into the stream of hot water.


    Stripped down and removed my goggles. Entered the steaming water and turned the taps off. Heat was painful at first¡ªespecially on my healing wounds¡ªbut was soothing once I got used to it. Muscles relaxed and, against all odds, I felt at peace. Closed my eyes and tried to think back to a time where I could smile.


    Opened them again, and furrowed my brow. Turned my head slowly to the side.


    Roxy was standing at the door, leaning on the frame with her arms crossed.


    ¡°Not a big deal, Dubs. Was just worried you¡¯d died for a second.¡±


    [I must have been worse off than I thought, to have fallen asleep so easily.]


    ¡°Well, you earned it - half those dudes had active warrants already, so I got a little pat on the back for taking them in.¡± She stood up straight and gestured over to the counter beside the sink. ¡°Good news is your suit is all clean and repaired.¡±


    There it was, the green fabric sitting in a tidy pile, ready for me.


    ¡°I was about to have lunch since it¡¯s afternoon, then I¡¯m back out for work. You got plans for the rest of the day?¡±


    [I¡¯m sure I will find a way to busy myself.]


    There wasn¡¯t really much I could do, save for heal up and recover.


    [What happens if I accept the League¡¯s offer?]


    Roxy tilted her head to the side. ¡°They¡¯ll give us some trials, but they aren¡¯t¡­ tests, as such. It¡¯s all live, on-duty type work that we¡¯d have to do together and not fuck up.¡±


    [I¡¯ll make a note of that.]


    ¡°Depending on what¡¯s going on in the city, we could be given a trial immediately or not for weeks. I¡¯ve made the request that we have an active operator for when we work¡­¡±


    [Clara?]


    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s not something she does often, but they were pleased with how she helped us before. They wanted to give me some other asshole, but I was insistent that the familiarity between us would be a benefit and not get in the way of the job.¡±


    [And to think, we¡¯ll only get more familiar with each other in time.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes and pulled the door closed gradually. ¡°I just can¡¯t even, sometimes.¡±


    As the bathroom door clicked shut, I wondered if perhaps I was outstaying my welcome. While the super purported to like being an affable host, she probably wasn¡¯t expecting her murderous neighbor slash sidekick to be taking naps in her bath for hours.


    I sighed as I stood, allowing the water and what remained of the bubbles to run off of me. Had managed to keep my gun-arm dry, and the stims had done a decent job of healing over my wounds already. With one last forlorn look at the slice of paradise I¡ªfor some reason¡ªadored, I turned my gaze around the room to find a towel.


    Without warning, the bathroom door then opened up.


    ¡°One last thing- ohhh nooo.¡± Roxy¡¯s head sunk back out of sight, the door closing once more. There was a thunk on the wall nearby.


    [Are you alright?]


    ¡°Just dying of embarrassment.¡±


    Oh, the towel had fallen over the other side of the cabinet. I reached down to pick it up and set about drying myself off.


    [How about you tell me when I come down fully dressed?]


    ¡°¡­Okay.¡±


    I could have told her that she should have knocked, but I might be on thin ice right now and didn¡¯t want to jeopardize my chance of getting further baths. That was clearly the most important point right now. Pulled my goggles back on right after my compression shorts.


    Boss had sent the details over for the bike spray and repair business. Gave me a codeword to use to access their more ¡®discreet¡¯ service. Definitely felt I needed that at present. Also missed a few messages from Roxy telling me she was coming home for lunch and asking if I was okay when I hadn¡¯t responded.


    With a little more practice, I entered my super suit with fewer struggles than before. I was coming to prefer it to my old way of dressing - and the trouble outside Hal¡¯s shop would have gone a little differently if I was properly prepared. If I became a sidekick, I¡¯d be wearing this all the time, pretty much.


    Thus, the question circled my mind.


    And¡­ there wasn¡¯t really any use deliberating the answer. In truth, my life had been washed away from the depths and I was stranded on shore. Sun was scouring away the grime I had thought was just the right way to exist, only to find that I could be more with a little spit and polish. As much as I had felt content with the simple life of a contract killer, I was learning to have an appetite for more. To fly closer to the sun even if I burned up sooner.


    Opened up the bathroom door and the super was no longer in her landing-based grave. Stepped down the stairs to find her looking rather mortified in the kitchen, her eyes trying to stare beams through the lunch she was preparing rather than look at me.


    [What was it you wanted to say?]


    ¡°I¡­ ah, forgot. Probably not that important, huh?¡± She grimaced at the half-prepared sandwich.


    I let her stew for a moment until it looked like she might start squirming for me to leave. Considering she was fire resistant, it looked as though she was burning up at present. I¡¯d show her a little mercy.


    [Don¡¯t worry. I trust that you would not judge me, or at least you¡¯d know to keep your yapper shut.]


    She shot me a glare, not expecting I¡¯d reflect the words said to me this morning back at her. I was already stepping over to the front door, and didn¡¯t catch whatever expression followed the initial look.


    Opened the door and took a step though.


    [Oh, and I will become your sidekick. You can tell the League.]


    Closed the door behind me and walked as quickly to my house as I could so she couldn¡¯t come interject. This was the trajectory of my existence now, and I had accepted it. More power, more friends, more danger, and¡­ a life that I actually lived. As much as my present was murky with the fog of the past, I was working toward a clear future.


    Or the comfort of a shallow grave, whichever came first.


    Made it inside my shack before the super had second thoughts and gave me the quick death I deserved. It was gloomy and miserable, but I wasn¡¯t planning on spending long in here.


    I had plans. A hobby to aspire to improve at.


    Replaced my cannister with a fresh one as I loaded up my STAR and searched for gym equipment. Oh, even better. Training dummies. Hard wearing and weather resistant. I copied the ID and sent over the details to Hal.


    Dubs: Four of these, coordinates to follow.


    Hal: No problem, sah. Will send over invoice - when d¡¯ya want the delivery?


    Dubs: Tomorrow evening?


    Hal: Will check with the runner.


    First task - get the coordinates for my deliveries. I stood and drummed my fingers on my gun-arm, trying to decide. Originally, delivery to my home had the issue of giving my location out to potentially anyone. If I got things dropped off further away, it would be safer - but more difficult to get bulkier objects back here.


    I decided on the safer option. Would be better to get a trailer or something for the bike, than to invite malady on both myself and Roxy. We already had enough on our plates.


    Second task - exercise. Back out into the sunshine, I flexed my neck from side to side. I¡¯d been getting by just from my apparent super soldier abilities, but if I wanted to keep up with an actual superhero, I¡¯d need to be in much better form. Long a weapon of death, I needed to sharpen my edge.


    One deep breath and then I started running. A soft jog at first, that increased to a pace I was comfortable with. Ran out to the inside perimeter of our sensors and then turned to travel in a rough circle inside our safe zone. Lungs contested this constant use of power, disagreeing with some of my cybernetics. Just some discomfort that I needed to push through.


    Halfway through my second lap, I caught the orange blob of Roxy standing in her garden with hands on her hips. She must have noticed I caught her watching as she leaped away to go to the city in short order after that.


    Afternoon sun had me sweating, the super suit doing well at wicking heat away, but yet I continued. Unsure what a normal amount of running should be for an average man, I started getting suspicious at my own efficiency once I hit the two-hour mark.


    Slowed to a stop and put my hand on my knee, re-breather whirring back and forth as I sought to regain my breath. Legs were aching and tired. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and glared at the wastes.


    I was glad that Roxy was out working, as she would not be pleased with what I was about to do.


    Knife into my left hand, I stabbed myself in the right shoulder just before the cyborg arm started. Pain and then stims flushed through me. Knife away and I started running again.


    Turns out that my actual hobby was being self-destructive.


    I ran for another three hours using this method. A mess of sweat and muscle cramps by the end. Stims complaining from overuse. Day one was successful, so I took my shaking body over to my bike and whirred off into the haze of dusk. Rolled until the houses were out of sight and found a cluster of rocks that seemed like a good enough landmark.


    Dubs: Sending over drop location. Is it possible VM can deliver a trailer as well?


    Hal: Coords received. That shouldn¡¯t be an issue - extra charge, of course.


    Dubs: Naturally, let me send you over the details.


    Spent a good five minutes in my STAR looking up different sizes of trailers to find something big enough to carry large items, but that my bike would have no issue pulling. Settled on something and sent it to Hal, who forwarded me an Invoice. Paid it. Delivery confirmed.


    Now that was living.


    My mental hand hovered over closing the STAR down. I¡¯d gone years without really spending anything or checking my credit balance. Nothing had been declined, so Boss must have been paying me - he wouldn¡¯t get away with not. But just how much did I have now?


    Enough for a house? For higher grade cybernetic parts? Could I buy a new face?


    Odd thoughts. My lack of mouth hadn¡¯t been an inconvenience in my work so far. I didn¡¯t look like a hero, but did I need to? I felt conflicted, especially when thinking about Roxy now being in the picture, but wasn¡¯t sure why. Clara would no doubt ask if I wanted a hand attachment instead of a shotgun, and my answer would be to decline that. So why the fence sitting on my upper cybernetics?


    To distract myself from these turmoil-inducing questions, I decided to look at my bank balance.


    The digits rotated into place, hovering in my lense. I took a deep breath and read them slowly once more.


    Bike whirred into life.


    Tomorrow¡¯s meeting was certainly going to be an interesting one.

 34 - Repeated Exposure

    The ceiling of my kill room held no joy for me. Exhausted from my extended cardio session, I was now just laying on my old mattress on the floor. Staring and waiting. For what? I wasn¡¯t sure.


    Well into dusk now, I wasn¡¯t sure if Roxy was back home yet and thought it odd to want to check. I¡¯d see her soon enough tomorrow, assuming she had recovered from seeing me totally uncovered. Considering she had stripped me down most of the way to heal me the other day, I didn¡¯t exactly feel bashful with the accidental reveal. Hopefully it didn¡¯t affect our friendship or working relationship.


    Sidekick.


    Still left a bad taste in the back of my lack of mouth. It didn¡¯t seem like Roxy would treat me as an underling, however - even if we weren¡¯t playing along with the hidden plot the League had in mind.


    So I¡¯d probably have to pick a name, and we¡¯d go punch up some villains or criminals. Shouldn¡¯t be too hard. Roxy had mentioned that after the trials was an interview¡­ which might be an issue, but after that I would be officiated. How Boss thought that could help me get information from the League, I wasn¡¯t sure. Then I¡¯d be playing double agent.


    And hopefully earning double credits. Not that I had a lack of coin at present.


    Given that I hadn¡¯t bought much in the last few years, my view of affordability was somewhat skewed¡­ but I understood that big number was good. Saving for nearly five years meant I now had options.


    What those options were was a messy answer. Clara would need to fill in some of the blanks. What I was willing to change or what she was capable of. The ceiling above me gave no concrete answer to either of those things.


    No messages.


    I relented to just sleeping. Tomorrow was a more interesting day. Eyes closed, and the darkness took me in little time.


    <hr>


    As soon as my eyes opened again, I checked for messages.


    Roxy: Clara is already over.


    Roxy: Pop by whenever.


    A rather neutral pair of lines, but it wouldn¡¯t do me any favors to read into that. Timestamps said¡­ not too long ago. I stretched my arms and sighed in lieu of a yawn, before sitting out of bed. My legs were sore, but after I shuffled around and got a new cannister in my neck, I felt ready for the day.


    I stepped out in the overcast late morning. Not quite as energizing as when the sun was out, but I wouldn¡¯t let the gray cloud cover sour my mood. Clara¡¯s van was parked just outside the green grass of the neighbor''s garden, back doors open.


    Dusting off some imagined dirt from my super suit, I walked my way over to the entrance to Roxy¡¯s house. Just before reaching the porch, the unmistakably drab figure of Clara stepped out, her eyes of green light giving me a look up and down.


    ¡°Mr Dubs. Rockslide refused to take any pictures of you in your suit.¡± She gestured over to her van, and I followed her. ¡°How unfortunate you are mostly flesh, but at least you are sidekick shaped.¡±


    [Good to see you again, Clara.]


    ¡°I¡¯d be lying if I said that I wasn¡¯t looking forward to today. And I am incapable of lying.¡± She stopped by the doors of the van and tilted her head to the side.


    [I feel as though that itself is a lie.]


    ¡°Perhaps. Occasionally, I will make a joke to hide my giddy nerves.¡± With her usual stoic poker face, she then turned her attention to the insides of her vehicle. ¡°If you could carry this case to the dining room, I would forever be in your debt. Literally forever.¡±


    I hoisted the long black case up with my left hand, maintaining eye contact while she stared impassively at me. Somewhat unsure as to her current mood, I felt as though I was a piece of exquisite meat she was eager to butcher up.


    Took myself into the house and the designated room where the fated housewarming party had been held. Only now, instead of the white wooden table in the center of the room, there was a thick slab of a bed - closer to something you¡¯d find at a morgue rather than an object you¡¯d expect to do medical things on. Hopefully not a sign of how well things were going to go today.


    In the top and bottom corners of the room, small square devices had been placed, and the chair at the side of the room had been requisitioned to hold several more cases, as well as a laptop device.


    ¡°Morning, Dubs. How was your evening?¡±


    I turned to see that Roxy had appeared in the doorway, but any words of response took a brief pause as I took her in. She was wearing a bright yellow summer dress, small sunflowers dotted around the fabric. Hands on her hips, she didn¡¯t have the usual brash confidence across her face, but seemed in good spirits.


    [Uneventful, thankfully.]


    ¡°Does he usually pause before responding?¡± the voice of the techie came from behind her.


    ¡°Clara.¡± Roxy turned to glare at the shorter woman, who pushed past to direct me where to place the case. ¡°I¡¯ll go get refreshments. I guess I can¡¯t really do anything for you, Dubs?¡±


    [I am fine, thank you. Your consideration is appreciated, however.]


    With a smile and a nod, she was gone. I watched the empty doorway for a second before turning back to Clara, who had apparently been watching me. I wanted to ask her what all this odd tech was, but I had a feeling that she didn¡¯t want me to. Mostly because she had a finger pressed against her lips.


    I placed the case down and watched her sit by the laptop and tap away. A residual hum filled the room and the corner-devices lit up a slowly pulsing red, before each turning green in turn. Once all were this color, Clara sighed and tapped a few more things, before turning back to me.


    ¡°I will need your help to test something, Mr Dubs.¡±


    [Of course. I imagine you will require a lot of me today.]


    She said nothing in response, but her eyes continued to stare into mine. Waiting for¡­ something? I had been expecting instruction but perhaps had the wrong idea. Breaking eye contact, I turned to see Roxy enter the room again - a couple of plates and glasses in her hands.


    ¡°Mr Dubs, tell me what you think of Rockslide¡¯s dress.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow and looked at her, realizing that this was the test - as she was waiting to input something onto her laptop based on my response. Looking back at Roxy, the super looked like a deer caught in headlights.


    [Oh. I believe it is very flattering, and the vibrancy of the color mixed with the general ambiance of your home decor brings out a¡­ well, it makes you glow.]


    We both stood in silence while Clara tapped away.


    After a handful of seconds, Roxy blinked away the stare and shook her head. ¡°Sorry, I think I blanked everything out after you said it was flattering. You honestly think so?¡±


    ¡°Of course he does. Mr Dubs is also incapable of lying.¡±


    I looked between the two of them, partially unsure as to what was going on. Perhaps this was some manner of trap.


    ¡°Dresses are¡­ well, I¡¯ve never really worn them.¡± The super pulled a face as she walked over to place Clara¡¯s food near her. ¡°Just due to my figure, I¡¯ve never really felt feminine enough.¡±


    [But you¡¯re wearing one now.]


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She gave me a shrug and revealed that her snack for the morning was a tub of ice cream. ¡°Had it for a year, figured I might as well wear it once before I ruin my fucking career by eating too much of this frozen goodness. Not often I have a get-together like this.¡±


    Clara picked up her toast sandwich and leaned past me to see the super. ¡°Oh, the gift. Was there any plain ice-cream?¡±


    ¡°You mean vanilla?¡± Roxy took a scoop of her mint choc chip.


    ¡°No, that is clearly vanilla flavor, not plain.¡±


    ¡°Soooo, just ice then?¡±


    I watched as Clara rolled her eyes and returned to her bread, while Roxy gave me a grin. As much as I would have liked to give her more compliments or reassurance about her outfit choice, the looming time on the slab had me feeling off kilter.


    ¡°So the reason for my question prompt,¡± the techie began, breaking me from my dissociation, ¡°was to track our voices and see if the nullifying devices are working. Which they are.¡± She pointed a finger up to one of the green corner boxes. ¡°I¡¯ve essentially created a miniature Dead Zone within a space slightly larger than this room in all directions.¡±


    [Oh. Nothing will go in and out?]If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°I¡¯m still working on that, but no communication channels will work, correct.¡± She maintained eye contact with me while Roxy choked on her ice-cream in the background.


    [So, you¡¯re on board then?]


    ¡°You could say I¡¯m your biggest supporter, Mr Dubs. Rooting for both you and Rockslide to come together and achieve the unrealized vision.¡±


    [That makes me happy. I was hoping you¡¯d get involved.]


    ¡°If only. Inaction makes me frustrated and restless, but that¡¯s why I brought some new toys to help us along.¡± She placed her sandwich down and stood, brushing down her slate-gray overalls. ¡°If Rockslide would like to cease dying to her dietary choices and join us, we will start with some upgrades before we lay you.¡±


    My eyes went over to the slab while the super wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to gain her breath back. Didn¡¯t exactly look like a comfortable place to lose some of my dignity, but at least I felt somewhat better knowing we wouldn¡¯t have outside eyes ogling us doing the deed.


    [I assume you will want to look under my mask.]


    ¡°Correct. Do you have any reservations?¡± She stopped by a wide case and popped the latches.


    [Some. But, it must be done, and I trust you.]


    Clara nodded. ¡°With the League inducting you, it would be wise to stay a step ahead. There are some benefits to being beholden to them, however¡­¡± she flipped the lid to reveal rows of cartridges - a kind I hadn¡¯t seen before.


    Roxy stepped up to us to peer over too, now recovered from her ordeal. ¡°League exclusive tech. How¡¯d you swing those?¡±


    ¡°Same way as how I got the communication blockers. Knowing who to bribe and who to blackmail.¡± She plucked one of the shells from the case. Light blue with two rings of yellow near the back. ¡°League prefers non-lethal takedowns, and even Tazers or the Rubber shots you have to ricochet aren¡¯t on their white list.¡±


    [Ricochet?]


    Roxy pulled a face. ¡°You¡¯ve been shooting people directly with those? That explains the hotel casualties.¡±


    ¡°Regardless, these are above and beyond both of those. League has some overcooked name for them but I think we¡¯ll keep it simple and you can rename them, Mr Dubs. Essentially, the shrapnel from the shot does minimal damage, but sends a signal through the target¡¯s nerves to make them believe it was a normal slug shot.¡±


    [So people would be hobbled, or pass out from the imagined pain?]


    ¡°Correct. I have 72 shells here and can get you more in bulk with a couple day¡¯s notice.¡±


    I would have whistled if I had the capacity to. Essentially a full on replacement for my normal shot when going against anything that I wasn¡¯t supposed to kill. Which, according to the law, was most things.


    [impressive, thank you. I will now feel less like a monster being armed in public.]


    Roxy nudged up beside me. ¡°I got you cool stuff, too. Three more super suits.¡±


    [That''s very useful. I will need to rely on your washing services less. Or perhaps more.]


    Clara placed the shell back in the case and raised an eyebrow at the super. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you haven¡¯t just invited Mr Dubs to stay in your spare room. Your sidekick deserves better than to live in a hovel, surely?¡±


    The super bared her teeth. ¡°Clara,¡± she hissed.


    [No, it is fine. I¡¯d only feel like I was being a burden. If we are working together now, it would be better to not be constantly under each other¡¯s feet - especially since my other job has me coming home half dead and covered in murder victims.]


    With a shrug, the techie closed the case of what I¡¯d call Nerve shot, and moved over to the next one. ¡°The League aren¡¯t usually as generous, even to those on the trial period. They bent a few rules, given that you are their favorite child at the moment.¡± Case unclasped, she lifted the lid to show a long metal shape.


    Roxy and I both leaned over to get a better look.


    ¡°Power fist?¡± the super asked.


    ¡°Only D-Grade.¡± She tilted the case so that the light could illuminate it better.


    Some odd mix between a fingerless glove and knuckle duster made of a brass-colored metal. Thick, segmented paneling ran down from it on one side - I assumed to enable me to use the gauntlet as defense for my left arm.


    ¡°Small V-Force boosters in the back of the hand, at an angle so you can punch a little harder. Use sparingly, as they will run out of juice in short order.¡± Clara looked up at me.


    [Thank you, I can definitely see the use.]


    She shrugged. ¡°I wanted to get you a buzz-saw attachment or some manner of bayonet for your shotgun, but apparently the League doesn¡¯t approve of that.¡±


    Roxy shook her head as she ate her ice-cream. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure Dubs wanted to feel like less of a murderbot, not more.¡±


    ¡°Is that true, Mr Dubs?¡±


    I looked between the two women. One who seemed fully committed to expanding my cybernetic side for both her and my own benefit. The other who was determined to break away my awkward shell to reveal a more rounded person within. Neither side was wrong, nor took precedence.


    [I feel like I can have both sides, if I want them hard enough.]


    ¡°Good answer. Rockslide is passionate about your rehabilitation, and I would not forgive you for letting her down. Likewise, my respect for you would crater if I didn¡¯t feel as though you shared my vision for what I want out of you.¡± Clara turned, partially to clip the case closed, but also to potentially avoid the sharp glare the super was giving her.


    Socializing with the two took a lot more energy than I had anticipated. That said, it was likely that I was about to have a lie down, anyway. I thumbed at the satchel on my side where I had stored the maintenance node. Nervous? It was difficult to say. I¡¯d be at Clara¡¯s mercy where plenty could go wrong, or she could expertly murder me if she so wished. But with Roxy close by, an imminent demise was always on the cards.


    For some reason, an errant thought jumping up and down in the back of my mind gave me some renewed strength. I asked myself how I would go about fighting her if I had to.


    ¡°That¡¯s all my surprises for now. I don¡¯t like to bare all when we haven¡¯t known each other for so long.¡± Clara returned to her laptop to retrieve the rest of her sandwich.


    [Normally I am the same, although after yesterday I¡­]


    Roxy slowly shook her head, her eyes wide and staring death at me.


    The techie turned. ¡°Oh? What happened yesterday?¡±


    She hadn¡¯t told her. More the fool me for thinking Roxy would almost immediately have gone to vent out her embarrassment to Clara. They seemed to talk about me in private, so felt like a reasonable assumption.


    [Just with how my clothing looked after the gang beat me up. Is it time for you to open me up?]


    I gestured to the wide slab, hoping my save was good enough.


    She looked at me, then Roxy, then the table. ¡°So eager, Mr Dubs. I can barely contain my excitement.¡± Her face was as impassive as ever. ¡°Please make yourself comfortable and I will prepare my tools.¡±


    With a slow sigh, I did just that. Hoisted myself up onto the flat table and arranged myself to lie down upon it. Staring up at the ceiling, I allowed myself to relax - just as the super loomed into view.


    ¡°Nervous, Dubs?¡± She looked pretty fed up with the turn of events, but was apprehensive about what we were about to do.


    [Why? Would you hold my hand if I asked?]


    ¡°No.¡± She shoveled more ice-cream into her mouth before glancing briefly over at the techie. ¡°Are you asking?¡±


    [Whatever lies beneath my mask won¡¯t be pretty, just to forewarn you.]


    ¡°I¡¯m a big gal, Dubs. I assure you I¡¯ve seen worse, and it won¡¯t change how I feel about you. Our friendship and shit.¡± She exhaled from her nose and moved away, out of sight.


    I wasn¡¯t too sure about that. While we were both desensitised to some degree of violence and gore, it was different when it was someone you knew. Although¡­ I¡¯m not sure why I believed that, considering my life for the past five years had been in solitude.


    Any further musing was interrupted as Clara came into view on my right. Now wearing a face mask and some manner of magnifying lense over one eye. A multi-tool in one hand, she gave me a look over before anything else. She tapped me on my cyborg shoulder.


    ¡°Bad news is that if you want anything other than a shotgun, it would mean replacing the whole arm.¡±


    [Expensive?]


    ¡°The cost is part of it. I wouldn¡¯t accept you having anything less than A-Grade. Not to mention needing to find the part itself - which would be restricted and controlled. Furthermore, you¡¯d need an expert surgeon who specializes in synapse retooling and cybernetic grafting. So we are talking... millions of credits."


    [And I suppose you are not one of those surgical experts.]


    ¡°If I were, I wouldn¡¯t be here, Mr Dubs.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°That isn¡¯t to say I won¡¯t give you all the love and care you require when under my knife, but there isn¡¯t a lot of opportunity for hands-on learning at the League¡­ unless you have deep pockets or the right connections.¡±


    I grunted an acknowledgement. Perhaps I could assist her with the former, but I¡¯d discuss with Roxy first to see if that would be socially acceptable or not. I¡¯d be reaping some reward from any acquired knowledge, but currently, I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d be living long enough to benefit much from it.


    ¡°There are some improvements we can make to your current arm, but at the current grade¡­ well, I wouldn¡¯t want to put so much effort into something sub-par, unless you ask nicely.¡± She twirled around the multi-tool around in her hand.


    ¡°No chance we could cut the elbow off?¡± Roxy asked from somewhere to my left. ¡°Get a hand on there that way?¡±


    ¡°Not impossible, but we are talking a lot more custom engineering work. Again, synapse retooling, which is¡­ something I¡¯d not risk Mr Dubs¡¯ life for attempting myself.¡±


    It was odd hearing her confidence waver somewhat - but I understood it. If something went wrong, it could cause my arm to be fully inert, and the surgery required to replace the nerves and synapse connections in my brain and into a new arm was invasive and dangerous.


    ¡°May I have your consent to open and remove your mask, Mr Dubs?¡±


    I moved my hand up and pulled the goggles from my face, passing them over to Roxy by my side. The white of the ceiling made my eyes ache, but it felt more¡­ medical, to have them free and uncovered for the procedure.


    ¡°Almost as bright as mine,¡± she noted. ¡°Let¡¯s see what other hidden surprises you are full of then, Mr Dubs. Stay calm and I will be as gentle as I am able.¡±


    [Understood. Please proceed.]


    She leaned closer to my face, her cybernetic eyes observing the seams where the gas mask met my skin. I felt a slight pressure on my left forearm, confused briefly before I realized that it was Roxy¡¯s hand there. More for her own nerves than mine, I was sure, but considering this was our first friend-group activity, I would allow her that comfort.


    A blunt bladed part of the multi-tool came and prodded around the seam near my right cheek. Small amount of uncomfortable pressure, and then it slipped beneath the seal.


    ¡°No pain, Mr Dubs?¡±


    [Mild discomfort, no pain.]


    ¡°Very good. It is useful that you are able to speak while this is ongoing.¡± Her face moved over mine, close enough that her eyes illuminated me with a green glow. ¡°Do not hesitate to speak up as soon as there is pain. You win no prizes for suffering through.¡±


    [You have my word.]


    ¡°Doubtful, but a believable lie.¡± She moved back over to focus on the job.


    Tool ran along, breaking the seal across my cheek, around the side of my jaw, and then down to my neck. Returned to move over my nose, which made me wince. Roxy gave my arm a soft squeeze in reaction to the change in my expression. Clara moved around the head of the wide bed to follow through to unsealing the left side of my face.


    It was unpleasant, but made more reasonable due to the fact that I trusted the pair.


    ¡°Rockslide. If you could grab his package ready, please?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°In his satchel, the maintenance node that was in the package.¡±


    I focused on the ceiling.


    ¡°Right, Mr Dubs. I am going to remove the magnetic clasps by your cheeks, and this should allow me to remove the mask from your face. I will do so slowly so we do not run the risk of detaching your re-breather.¡±


    [Proceed.]


    Pressure, and then a pop from my left cheek. Some odd relief, but also a chill as parts of me not usually exposed to air became so. Hopefully Roxy had control of herself, as she had the necessary grip strength to tear straight through my arm if she lost focus.


    Pop from the other side. I took one last deep breath through my re-breather and closed my eyes.


    ¡°You ever peel this back yourself?¡± Roxy asked. The increased warmth against me telling me she was probably leaning forward to have a good look herself.


    [Only one side briefly, to remove shrapnel one time. Didn''t see much. Didn''t want to.]


    My mask moved away from the rest of me.


    An odd feeling, and I kept my eyes closed. Slight pressure probably coming from my breathing tube being stretched as Clara tilted the gas mask for it to rest against my chest.


    There were a few moments of silence as they took in a good eyeful of whatever horrors lay beneath.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Roxy said.

 35 - Some Gradual Truth

    As I glared at the darkness in front of my closed eyes, I waited another handful of tortuous seconds for the super to explain what she found so surprising beneath my mask. Even Clara was being silent, which I didn¡¯t take to be a great sign. The odd pipe dream of there being a normal face under the mask was slipping away.


    ¡°Is that a bomb?¡± Roxy asked.


    ¡°Rockslide, please. Do not worry the patient with nonsense.¡±


    ¡°Well, a blinking red light isn¡¯t normal.¡±


    I sighed, feeling the passage of air on my chest due to my mask position, and opened my eyes. Other than now having a full nose in view, I couldn¡¯t see anything past my cheeks, save for the re-breather tube and mask now sitting slightly away from me. Clara¡¯s face was close to my right, and Roxy¡¯s to my left.


    [Some information would be nice.]


    ¡°Here,¡± the techie handed something to the super. ¡°Hold this light so I can get a better look. I apologize, Mr Dubs. There is a lot more going on in here than I had anticipated.¡±


    If I didn¡¯t know any better, it seemed as though she was both excited and nervous at the prospect of digging around whatever I had instead of a lower jaw. A small pointer light illuminated just beneath where I could see. Rather than a bomb, I wondered if I had a kill-switch Boss had installed just in case I-


    ¡°It¡¯s a kill-switch,¡± Clara informed me. ¡°Paired with an alarm system to notify someone that your mask has been removed.¡± She moved away, before leaning her body across me so that she could see her laptop on the chair against the wall on the left. ¡°Seems¡­ we have blocked it being reported.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t climb all over him,¡± Roxy chided, while looking more worried than annoyed.


    ¡°Excuse my familiarity, Mr Dubs.¡± She slid back onto her feet. ¡°Given that there was a chance you might die, I assumed the press of my body would be the least of your concerns.¡±


    ¡°Clara.¡±


    [Are you able to remove the kill-switch?]


    It was a pragmatic choice for Boss to have a way to get rid of me if I ever turned on him. He must have known it was an inevitability. Although, why I had an alarm to report that my face had been exposed wasn¡¯t something I quite understood yet.


    ¡°There is a risk to it, but yes. I would suggest we leave the alarm part intact, but removed the part that can kill you.¡±


    [Understood. Please proceed.]


    Less chance of giving the game away that I had been compromised.


    ¡°I¡¯d need to anyway, to use some of the connector pins for the maintenance node.¡± She gave a brief sigh before shaking her head. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ve been having some fun up to now, but this is serious, so focus.¡±


    Roxy nodded, and her brow furrowed. I wasn¡¯t too sure what she was alluding to - I didn¡¯t think I had much of an active role in current proceedings, but I¡¯d be extra stoic if it meant there was less chance for me to die.


    ¡°Would you like me to give you a full diagnostics, Mr Dubs, as you are unable to see?¡±


    [Please.]


    ¡°As you had expected, you have nothing below your upper jaw. Cybernetics are again very high quality custom work, and covers every open surface of the empty space - so no gore or exposed innards, it just runs from the back of where your throat would be, as a continuation to your neck cybernetics.¡±


    Some of the tension left my face. While it was disappointing to know I wasn¡¯t secretly harboring a normal face down there, in some ways, it couldn¡¯t be any other way. How dire my end-of-life event must have been for them to have to replace so much of me.


    ¡°Re-breather tube, which goes down into the neck. There are also thick cables on either side that run from your stim and cannister ports, up to your brain - something unusual, as they are usually just worked into the bloodstream.¡± Her hand pressed against the side of my face, her thumb running against the seam where my mask clipped in. ¡°Alarm system attached to some drugs pouch that would kill you¡­ but there¡¯s something else, Mr Dubs.¡±


    Roxy tried to get a better angle with the torch. ¡°Are we talking about those other cables besides the others? Disconnected ones?¡±


    I felt a roll of something in my stomach. A bad feeling? Or something at the back of my brain, knowing a secret that was about to be let out. Despite feeling exposed, having Roxy¡¯s hand on my arm, and Clara¡¯s on my face, was surprisingly comforting.


    ¡°Even with our Dead Zone up, I can barely bring the courage forth to say what I think.¡± The techie removed her hand and stepped out of sight. ¡°The weight of this is both overwhelming and sparks an incredible amount of joy within me.¡±


    The super pulled a face and looked down at me, before scowling at Clara. ¡°Don¡¯t leave us in suspense. How about you get the kill-switch disabled first?¡±


    [That would be preferable.]


    Any revelation or unexpected news could wait until I knew that there wasn¡¯t a chance I could just die with nothing to stop it. If it was connected directly to my brain or bloodstream, I¡¯d have mere seconds before being erased. Although I didn¡¯t blame Boss for the act, I found my fist clenching at the thought that he truly saw me as a disposable tool¡­ and I no longer shared the same view of myself.


    ¡°Of course.¡± Clara stepped back up, her multi-tool now switching to a pronged blade. ¡°Everyone remain as calm and still as possible. It¡¯s a simple process, but¡­ well, just let me work.¡±


    We didn¡¯t even grunt or nod our acknowledgements. Roxy held my arm a little tighter as she adjusted the torch to illuminate the device just below my upper jaw. I wondered if they had left my teeth in, and how goofy that would look. To her credit, the super hadn¡¯t seemed too put-off to see that I was nothing but a machine under the mask. I wasn¡¯t at a good enough angle to determine if there were any other thoughts past the worry on her face.


    Clara moved the tool to where I couldn¡¯t see it. She was calm, and her hand was steady, as her glowing eyes remained unblinking. I felt no pressure or awkwardness, as something made a clicking noise. Her hand moved and then there was a second clip coming apart, this time with a small tugging sensation at the back of where my throat would be.


    Roxy had her breath held, statuesque. I was focused on the techie¡¯s hands, unable to look away.


    Another clip and her other hand came up, long tweezers came in and slowly she withdrew both. Between the two tools, a small vial came up into view. Wrapped in a bit of tech with short wires protruding, and a tube on top.


    ¡°Nasty stuff,¡± she said, breaking the silence, before taking it off to the side to place on a chair. ¡°Death in two seconds once it reached your brain, and then it would continue to destroy any brain matter, leaving your skull empty¡­ before it then chewed through any nerve or synapse connections.¡±


    ¡°Fucking hells,¡± Roxy whispered.


    [Why go to such lengths? Seems as though Boss doesn¡¯t want anyone to find out about my past.]


    ¡°Precisely.¡± Clara stepped back into view and pulled her facemask down. She was clearly relieved that I hadn¡¯t melted away under her care. She put a hand on my forehead.


    ¡°Are you taking his temperature, or¡­?¡± Roxy had her eyes narrowed.


    ¡°My patient¡¯s well-being is important. Are you comfortable, Mr Dubs?¡±


    [I would like to know about those disconnected cables.]


    While I was pretty neutral on being manhandled by the two by now, I still had that knot in my stomach about the mystery wires within me. What they could be.


    Hand removed, the techie gave me a nod. ¡°I will say one sentence and wait for your reaction before I continue with the explanation.¡±


    [Go ahead.]


    ¡°These two that have been disconnected on either side of your neck are older than the rest of your cybernetics.¡±


    Something from my old life then. It could be the only answer. A chill ran through me. Roxy looked confused, but I felt¡­ nauseated. I was a super soldier, and these would have been part of that life - where I drew power from, maybe? Depended on what they were connected to.


    [What happens when you reconnect them?]


    The act was a given, no need to deliberate on whether we should or not. I wanted it, no questions necessary.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ hard to say for certain. They are like synapse connections, from what I can tell - but it doesn¡¯t mean there would be an immediate change.¡± She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. ¡°Not something I am well versed in. An appropriate metaphor would be a stream that was long run dry. Reconnecting would allow moisture to flow, but it will be a slow build up before it is back to the expected level.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Are you sure about this, Dubs? What if the reason they disabled them was because it wouldn¡¯t work with your current tech?¡± Concern had her brow furrowed.


    I raised my hand up, and she released the grip on my arm, only for me to put my hand on her in an attempt to comfort her nerves. Given that she was moving and I couldn¡¯t see much from this angle, it seemed as though I had put my hand on her hip, which wasn¡¯t my intention. Still, I continued the course.


    [You will have to trust me. I want this.]


    She nodded, only slightly tongue-tied as I removed my hand. ¡°Behind you all the way, then.¡±


    ¡°I will warn you, Mr Dubs, that connecting them is no issue, but once they start syncing again, it would be out of my control. My assumption would be that it was only your near-death state that allowed them to sever the connection without long-term side effects.¡±


    [Understood, and any risk is accepted.]


    ¡°You are indeed the ideal patient.¡± She gave me a brief smile before vanishing off to the right.


    Roxy¡¯s hand returned to my arm. ¡°Let me know if this is too much. I¡¯m pretty shit at this. Not sure what to do with myself.¡±


    [Just be yourself, that¡¯s all I¡¯d ever ask. You¡¯re not recoiling in horror from my true appearance?]


    ¡°No. Like it¡¯s fucking weird, don¡¯t get me wrong. But it¡¯s you, and everyone is different.¡±


    [Most people have a lower face.]


    She shrugged. ¡°Most people aren¡¯t superheroes or cyborg hitmen. And you probably could get a new face¡ªif you wanted¡ªright, Clara?¡±


    ¡°Oddly enough, whoever did the work left that option open.¡± Her voice came from the side of the room. ¡°Interesting, considering your arm does not have that same consideration. For a face, you could get some basic cyborg lower jaw made. Costly. A synthetic face would be more realistic, but they can come across uncanny¡­¡±


    ¡°Would totally ruin your badass vibe too,¡± Roxy added.


    ¡°You could get a true-skin replacement which would be as close to a real transplant as possible, if for whatever reason you really required luscious, soft lips.¡± She stepped back into my vision, mask back up. ¡°But again, that requires expert level craftsmanship and several million credits.¡±


    [But it wouldn¡¯t replace my vocal chords, correct?]


    ¡°Unfortunately, you are tied to using a vocalizer, Mr Dubs. With a full face, it would instead be installed within your new throat area and with practice and time, you¡¯d be able to move your mouth in sync with the voice.¡± She paused as she selected which tool to use. ¡°Personally, I¡¯d say go for the cyborg option. Although, I am biased.¡±


    ¡°Not like you¡¯d be getting true-skin on a sidekick¡¯s pay.¡± Roxy rolled her eyes, a glum expression on her face.


    I kept my lack of a mouth shut. Affordability was one thing, but it wasn¡¯t simply a matter of throwing money at the problem. It was easy to throw around the what-ifs, imagining me with a whole new high-tech A-Grade arm and a handsome full true-skin face. Did that help me with my past? Not really. With my life as a hitman and potential sidekick? I also doubted that would really change how effective I was.


    But the future? Assuming I lived a decent number of years past all this bullshit from my old life that we were dredging up¡­ then I¡¯d like some of those upgrades. At present, if Clara¡¯s estimates were accurate, then I could afford one of them and still have enough to be comfortable.


    By that time, my golden goose would no longer be employing me, I was sure. I¡¯d take each day as it came for now - the fact that I might be getting my super solider memories back over time had me panicked enough. Not panicked, maybe just apprehensive. Tenterhooks.


    ¡°There will be a small spark as I weld these joints together as they were sealed closed, but you shouldn¡¯t feel anything as there are no nerves in this area.¡±


    [Understood. When you said that the option for a lower jaw had been left open, are you saying that it would have been easy to have that done at the time?]


    Clara paused, but didn¡¯t respond.


    ¡°Assholes!¡± Roxy interjected. ¡°You¡¯re saying your Boss made the choice to keep you like this?¡±


    ¡°Possible.¡± The techie rolled out her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at the parts needing fixing. ¡°We cannot assume their intent, but giving how well this custom work is crafted, it wouldn¡¯t have been beyond their capability to give you something more.¡±


    The three of us fell into a silence as the work commenced. Hard for me to say I was mad at Boss. I was alive due to his intervention; I was sure - but it was his lack of consideration over how I lived the life given to me that had me¡­ just left with a sour taste in my lack of mouth.


    Roxy winced as there was a spark of blue light on my right side. Clara¡¯s fingers moved the connective pieces together before a second buzz of energy repaired the connection. She blew away a thin stream of smoke from the area before circling around to the other side. The super¡¯s hand unclasped from my arm once more as she stepped back to allow the techie in.


    A repeated process. Spark to unbind the sealed tubes, and another to affix them together. Smoke blown away. The light from her eyes glowed slightly brighter as she focused on her handiwork.


    ¡°I¡¯ll still leave the alarm part in as agreed, just in case there¡¯s a failsafe where it regularly pings a host to determine if it is still active.¡± She moved away to circle back to where she had placed her tools. ¡°I will just connect the maintenance node, and then we are done, Mr Dubs.¡±


    [How did I fare, compared to your expectations?]


    ¡°You are full of surprises, Mr Dubs. But you have remained calm and still, and have listened to my advice and instructions well. Gold star for you.¡±


    I probably shouldn¡¯t let that bring me so much joy, but it was nice to get a compliment once in a while. Being able to lay in place wasn¡¯t a huge hurdle, but with how my life had been up until this point - I¡¯d take it.


    ¡°You feel anything new yet, Dubs?¡± Roxy was back to my side, where I could see her.


    [Only that this was necessary to unlock my hidden past. I am in both of your debts for leading me to this point.]


    ¡°Maybe you could just get me more ice-cream, then.¡± She smiled, erasing some of the tension that had been painting her face.


    Clara clipped the three pins of the node into place one after the other, before using a gel substance to adhere the device to what would be the roof of my mouth. ¡°This will sync with the rest of your tech and allow you to see reports on your physical condition. Most things will probably be no interest to you, but once it is settled, you¡¯ll be able to see exactly how injured you get and if any problems with your cybernetics crop up.¡±


    [Interesting. Although my stims seem to be able to heal most wounds I receive, it would be nice to have alternate options.]


    Roxy nodded. ¡°Especially if Boss will cut you off from the shit you have now once he knows things are up.¡±


    A valid point that I hadn¡¯t really considered. There were some civilian meds I¡¯d be able to order through Hal - things that specifically targeted broken bones or flesh wounds. Wouldn¡¯t have the steroids or nanites that I was used to¡­ but maybe there was an option I didn¡¯t know about.


    ¡°Done, Mr Dubs. Ready for me to replace your mask?¡±


    [Yes, please do.]


    A simple process that involved gingerly tilting it back into place, ensuring no cables or my tube didn¡¯t get stuck or trapped on anything. Magnetic points clicked into place, and then Clara ran her finger softly around the edge, some small amount of pressure getting everything sealed back in place.


    Done.


    Now I knew that I had some of my past intentionally cut off in a literal sense. That Boss would kill me if I strayed too far from the job he had built me for. I had the potential to be more whole, and a lot stronger in time, should I have the stomach and wallet for it. There was a good reason I had been looking forward to this gathering, and it had gone beyond my expectations.


    Roxy sighed deeply. ¡°Thank fuck that¡¯s over. I¡¯ve been sweating up a storm, so I¡¯m going to go change.¡±


    The techie gave me a pat on the shoulder as she moved away to put her tools back in the cases. With some effort, I swung my legs around and sat up on the edge of the wide bed. Un-goggled eyes went around the room. All corners were still green light. Hand went up to feel around the edges of my mask. Uncomfortable, but would feel used to it again in no time at all.


    I shuffled onto the floor and stretched out. Eyes went over to the empty doorway, before back to the techie.


    [Clara, may I ask you something?]


    ¡°Oh?¡± She turned and looked up at me. ¡°Be my guest, Mr Dubs.¡±


    [This may be inappropriate¡­ but I was wondering if there was any way I could assist you with doing the courses needed to improve your skills? Financially?]


    ¡°And there I was thinking you were about to offer me up your body. For science.¡± She exhaled and her gaze lowered to the floor. ¡°Thank you for the offer, but at present I am still paying off my eyes - so any such undertakings would not be feasible, even with assistance.¡±


    [Oh, the League charged you for them.]


    ¡°They are A-Grade, with some custom work. Every so often, they like to remind me that they can repossess them if I miss payments.¡± Clara met my eyes once more. ¡°Worth it, however. They mean the world to me.¡±


    In some ways, she and I were alike. Clara was just as beholden to the League for her cybernetics as I was to Boss. Accepting and living the best we could with what we had. But it didn¡¯t have to be that way.


    [Another forward question, then. Could you tell me what remains on your balance?]


    ¡°Normally I¡¯d reject such prying, Mr Dubs.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°But considering I¡¯ve had my fingers inside of you, I will let this slide on this occasion. However, I am not allowed to discuss my contract or the debt repayment. The fact that I would not even do so in the Dead Zone should lend weight to how dire breaking the terms would be.¡±


    [Talk about, maybe not. Could you show it, however?]


    Her eyes narrowed, and jaw worked. ¡°Such a rule breaker. I can see why¡­ well, fine. If it satiates your curiosity and we can move on from this.¡±


    Clara held out her arm and a digital screen popped up over her forearm, similar to my STAR. Before she could even tilt it to give me a better view, I swiped my own wrist over it.


    She was confused, her brow furrowing, right before the ding of a completed transaction broke the silence.


    ¡°You¡­ no¡­¡± Shock twisted her normally impassive face as she grimaced and brought her digital screen up to her eyes. They darted back and forth as she tried to understand the text, now showing something that seemed illogical. ¡°Mr Dubs¡­ you can¡¯t have¡­ there were over two-hundred thousand credits still owed on that.¡±


    [Let me know when you are able to start the courses.]


    Her mouth went up into a pout as her arms fell slack. Unable to find any words of response, she finally stepped forward, throwing her arms around me.


    ¡°I am unable to physically cry, Mr Dubs. But I assure you I very much am. I don¡¯t know what to say.¡±


    [No need. Let¡¯s just get things packed up. Allow me to get some fresh air and then I will assist with moving the cases.]


    ¡°Understood.¡± She moved away and gave me a nod, a soft smile on her face. ¡°Turns out I will be in your debt forever. Just as I foretold.¡±


    I waved her off and turned to see that Roxy was now in a sports bra and shorts, leaning against the doorframe but perhaps gearing up to go work out. As I went to step out into the open she moved out of the way and followed me into the front yard.


    Day was still overcast, but I felt it was brighter than before. Perhaps because I had forgotten my goggles on the way to re-breathe some fresher air. Now outside of our temporary Dead Zone I¡¯d have to be careful what we discussed.


    ¡°You and Clara seem to get on great.¡± Roxy walked beside me as I started on a slow lap of her garden.


    [Hmm? Oh. I think I see some part of myself in her.]


    The super maintained a blank stare. ¡°I mean¡­ I¡¯m happy that-¡±


    [Roxy. Despite her flirting, I know that she isn¡¯t interested in me like that. She was just doing that to bug you.]


    ¡°Oh.¡± Roxy turned her gaze away, some color coming to her cheeks. ¡°Not as oblivious as you make out to be.¡±


    [No. I understand what is going on. Is this a conversation you want to have now?]


    Her eyes met mine, specs of fire dancing at the back of her amber orbs. ¡°Is this where you say that it would be a mistake? Doomed for failure. It can¡¯t work because of who we are, and that you don¡¯t deserve anything like that due to what you are?¡±


    I stopped near Clara¡¯s van and turned so that we were facing each other. Her arms were folded, ready to deflect my attempts to cloister myself away into my shell of safe solitude.


    [Not as oblivious as you make out to be, huh?]


    ¡°Asshole.¡± She sighed and shook her head.


    [Listen, Roxy, I-]


    A shrill beep vibrated around us, echoing through the area. At first, with it coming from my STAR, I thought Boss had found out, and I was about to meet an attempted end. But the sound also came from Roxy, and from several points out of view inside the house.


    ¡°Fuckers,¡± she hissed, tapping up her information screens. ¡°It¡¯s the League.¡±


    I brought up the notification on my wrist-mounted display.


    Urgent, it read. Our first trial needed immediate action.

 36 - A Monster in the Making

    The van shook as it rumbled its way through the wastes. I sat in the darkened back area, the two women up front equally silent and pensive about our current task - although perhaps with different reasons behind their respective moods.


    Getting prepared had been a blur, where I¡¯d barely managed to get everything loaded up before we had to leave. Roxy had changed into her super suit and Clara had prepared the drone and monitoring tech.


    Goggles now back on, I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the swaying of the vehicle. Tried to probe around for any new thoughts or memories - anything my reconnected old-tech might have started to build up for me.


    Nothing yet.


    Drum mag full of Nerve shot. Two ten-mags with normal shot. Sideloader had three HE Slug shells within it. Bandoliers had a pick-and-mix of whatever I could grab in a rush. Knife in my belt. Powered gauntlet on my left fist.


    Our target?


    A monster from the depths of the wastes. Some mutated abomination almost the size of a house, making a beeline for the city. Normally something the super would have no issue dealing with herself - making me feel rather useless - but the creature also had a retinue of mutant cultists believing it to be divine or the like.


    Even more dangerous than that was the unfinished conversation with Roxy. What was I even going to tell her? I had brought the subject into the light due to how friendly Clara seemed with me. Although I had only met these two friends recently, I didn¡¯t want any misunderstandings to ruin what we as a trio could accomplish.


    As much as I remained stoic in the face of most adversity, I did pay attention to things. Every time the super would flush at deadpan innuendo or when Clara would get closer than necessary to me. I¡¯d seen the way Roxy looked me over when I had received my super suit or required her assistance in a state of undress. Saw the genuine worry on her face when I met with malady - the anger when she had come to my aid against the gang members.


    Didn¡¯t change the fact that I was barely better than the criminals she was sworn to sweep from the streets.


    A man with a gun-arm and half a face. The dead-end career of a murderer for hire, employed by a figure that built me as a disposable tool for this very purpose. Now trapped in a tug-of-war between that person and the League of Heroes, my exploits known and my future at the heel end of a superhero¡¯s boot should I wear out my usefulness. Not to mention an unknown past bubbling away in the background.


    I was the last person that was appropriate to have a relationship with.


    ¡°League reports that the monster has paused its trajectory,¡± Clara said, breaking the silence. ¡°Looks like they are having a break in some ruins. This should be beneficial for us.¡±


    [Agreed.]


    If the cultists hid away, then I could flush them out while the super focused on the bigger threat. Roxy herself gave a brief nod and grunt, but didn¡¯t share her views on the updated information. While she was still chewing on what we hadn¡¯t said due to the League interrupting, she was the opposite to Clara - who practically radiated positivity despite her neutral expression.


    It might have been a bit over the top to pay off her full debt for the cybernetic eyes. I disliked the idea of her having that weight over her, however. I paid for mine with my subservience, but it seemed as though the League only kept her in their books, as it was the best place for her intellect and capabilities to shine. Now free to pursue further education, I saw it as an investment to my own growth, rather than some charity because I could afford it.


    Perhaps I was putting too much faith in these two, who I hardly knew. Could still be a long con by the League to twist me toward their own devices. The swamp rat inside of me almost wanted the betrayal to be true, as if it was easier than accepting them.


    My eyes went up to a notification.


    Boss: Availability?


    I paused before responding, some discomfort at knowing a little more about how I came to be - and what he had placed inside of me.


    Agent W: Tomorrow onwards.


    Boss: Perfect. With your previous success, there are even more high-profile contracts coming in.


    Agent W: Another villain?


    Boss: Contract sending now. You¡¯ll be able to pick up the rest of your prior reward en route.


    No further messages. He didn¡¯t want to say what the contract was, which meant that my guess was probably correct. Despite the danger such a job offered, I felt oddly excited at the prospect.


    I let it download in the background while I focused on the task ahead.


    ¡°Hold tight,¡± Clara warned.


    There wasn¡¯t really anything I could-


    The van shook and dipped, half of it rising into the air before all wheels found the ground again. As much as my stomach had lurched, I managed not to break my skull open on any of the metal boxes and tech the back of the van was stacked with. It did manage to jostle loose another memory that was¡­ hmm, difficult to fully realize. Perhaps a similar bumpy trip back in my past.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be pulling up somewhere soon where there¡¯s some cover. Not getting my van blown up by mutants. Or¡­ by either of you two.¡±


    While the vehicle wasn¡¯t the quickest way to get on scene, it was the only way all three of us could arrive at the same time. I imagined we were all necessary, otherwise Roxy could have soloed things with ease. It wasn¡¯t dangerous enough for her whole super group to show up, yet I had a feeling it wouldn¡¯t be straightforward either.


    Excluding her strength and fire resistance, she had decent speed and agility. A hardiness that seemed to draw from her empowered muscles. Her weaknesses were her short range, mobility, and going against anything that was resistant to blunt force damage. If I was going to fight her I would¡­ no, why was that my first thought?


    The question was how I was going to support her based on those weaknesses.


    Suppressive fire, taking out mid-range targets, removing restraints or debilitation effects. We¡¯d had a taste of that last time we fought mutants, and I was eager to make acquaintance with that flavor again. Solitude had been a choice, but perhaps not something I would have chosen knowing the full picture.


    ¡°Alright, slowing here. You¡¯ll have a few minutes'' walk, but you should be able to see the location once you crest this hill.¡± Clara stopped the vehicle and turned to try to face both of us. ¡°Don¡¯t be assholes and die or anything, okay? That goes double for you, Mr Dubs.¡±


    [I will do my best.]


    Back doors open and I stepped out, a wave of heated air washing over me. One of the reasons I had settled where I had was because it was relatively moderate when it came to temperature, even with an unhindered sun. Now we were further southwest and apparently in a valley that didn¡¯t see the grace of a fresh breeze often enough.


    The amber rocky terrain was heavily dusted with sand and long-decayed debris. Some manner of cactus-adjacent flora struggled to maintain patches of existence between scenery that was part arid plains and part long lost civilisation. My history was spotty at best, but I was led to believe that cities and towns once graced the whole area of the wastes, before some calamity dried everything up.


    Currently, I stood in a wide ditch that stretched a decent way to my right and left, before merging with the orange and brown of the distant land. Most likely a river, somewhat apt given our recent conversation.


    Roxy trudged through the sand with her arms crossed, the van door closing behind her. A sour look on her face, she stood beside me and sighed.


    ¡°Ice-cream for breakfast was a shit idea. Feel bloated now.¡±


    [Fighting mutants is a poor substitute for brunch as well.]


    ¡°Clara told me what you did.¡± Her eyes went over to the embankment we¡¯d need to climb. ¡°You might pretend it was for pragmatic reasons, but sounds to me you¡¯ve got quite the heart hidden away there.¡±


    [That is not for me to judge. We need to focus on work for now, but¡­ promise me we¡¯ll continue that talk later?]


    She turned back to me with eyebrows raised, hesitating for a second before a confident smile emerged. The super gave me a nod. ¡°Of course, you can¡¯t get away that easily.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Shame. Not that I even knew what I was going to tell her or say yet. It would have been nice to ignore it and pretend it never happened. Settle into something normal as a friend, but I just had to force the issue to ensure both of them were on the same page and on my side. I didn''t want to see her looking so grumpy.


    I¡¯d work out the details when we got to that point. Perhaps I¡¯d get lucky and the mutants would kill me.


    The whirr of the dragonfly drone hovered up beside us.


    //Clara: League aren¡¯t interested in taking mutant prisoners.


    //Clara: But will come retrieve any subdued and arrested.


    //Clara: Use that information as you see fit.


    ¡°You already have a plan for this, Dubs?¡± The super started ahead, stepping up the steep hill that was blocking view of our potential targets.


    [It would be most efficient for you to fight the monster, as I do not have anything heavy duty. I will try to keep the cultists busy and assist you when required.]


    ¡°See, my plan was to recklessly leap through the sky and land on the monster, then just bounce while it was pulverized.¡±


    [Yet I am the one deemed to be a constant danger to myself.]


    She grinned and lent a hand down to me. In taking it, she practically tossed me up to the peak of the embankment, landing up higher than she was. Immediately I had to blink twice to make sure I wasn¡¯t imagining things.


    I¡¯d heard of monsters in the wastes - and even seen a couple abominations myself over the years. Nothing much more than twelve feet, and usually humanoid enough to not look like something eldritch or from a body-horror movie. I ducked low beside a few choice rocks as I took in the large figure moving amongst the ruins just ahead.


    It sat around thirty-five to forty feet in height, but was closer to an amorphous blob than anything bipedal. Two large eyes sat in mismatched positions, staring lazily at the horizon. A wide mouth in the middle of its form that could swallow the van if it wanted. Filled with jutting teeth as long as my arm, drool constantly running down dry and split lips to slather the rest of its bulbous body in slick saliva.


    Hardened plates that looked like bone patched over the sun-scorched skin, and various ropes had been wrapped around it. Reminded me of the netting they¡¯d have on old-tech ships for pirates to climb over - something that seemed rather apt, as the monster turned to reveal a few short platforms on one side.


    Roxy landed deftly beside me and crouched down. ¡°Big fucker,¡± she surmised.


    //Clara: Survey says four buildings surrounding a town square area.


    //Clara: Monster currently in the center.


    //Clara: You are approaching from the southwest corner. Southbound building is relatively flat.


    //Clara: East and Northbound buildings very damaged, only bare structure remains.


    //Clara: Westbound is mostly intact and is the largest. Several story apartments.


    //Clara: Most of the cultists holding up there.


    //W: Understood.


    I could see three of the buildings from our current position, but it was nice to have the full picture. On our left, the apartments were a darkened husk of whatever former glory it held. Any paint scoured away by the sunlight, detailing in the brickwork long eroded by constant exposure to the elements.


    ¡°Walking is a ballache.¡± Roxy narrowed her eyes at the distance across the empty land we¡¯d have to travel. ¡°Especially for you.¡±


    My fingers drummed against a side pouch as I stared at a fire exit three floors up on the apartments. The metal railings had long collapsed into a pile, leaving the front doors the only likely way in.


    [Oh, I hadn¡¯t planned on walking.]


    <hr>


    The rush of air was briefly cooling, right before I struck the closed fire escape door like a wrecking ball. Bursting through into the hallway beyond in a cloud of age old dust, I rolled on the cracked linoleum flooring several times before righting to my feet.


    A short distance off either way, and I would have been a crumpled mess on the outside instead. Quite the throw, I''d have to commend her later.


    Two cultists sitting at a short table in the middle of shooting up some liquid turned to me, their eyes wide. Humanoid, but disfigured and changed in unsettling ways.


    ¡°What the fu-¡± the first began, before I blasted him in the face with Nerve shot. Minor scratches, but his brain overloaded, thinking it had been blasted from his skull. Passed out immediately.


    Second one tried to grab for a knife and stand to their feet, but whatever drugs they were trying to imbibe had them slow and clumsy. Metal elbow to their temple, and their body slumped over to the floor.


    //W: In and safe.


    //Clara: Will relay. Drone catching up asap.


    //Clara: Rockslide is about to engage the monster.


    I re-breathed a sigh of relief. For what? I wasn¡¯t sure yet. Empty cartridge bounced across the floor, and I decided to give my maintenance node a try.


    -Diagnostic Report


    -Minor abrasions (Left Leg, Left Midsection)


    -Bruising (Left Leg, Midsection, Left Torso, Left Shoulder)


    No points for guessing which part of me took the brunt of my entrance. There were options to change to more detail - or fewer details - as well as to arrange in order of severity or prompt new injuries as notifications. That sounded vaguely useful, so I¡¯d try that out for starters.


    This part of the hall was wide, as it was actually the top of the internal staircase on this end. To my left, the way down. To my right, a continuation of the hallway and the branching rooms on either side. I was reasonably confident that there were stairs on the other end too - so I stepped that way.


    Better to try to clear as many out as possible.


    First door on the left was open, the decayed room empty aside from the cracked remains of splintered furnishings. To the right, a closed door that my foot easily opened. Two cultists by the glass-less windows, looking out to the courtyard where the monster was.


    They turned just as I stepped through, my first shot going into the stomach of the first. Despite only minor cuts and shredding of his ragged outfit, he dropped to his knees, clutching at the wound as he threw up. League were scary bastards.


    Second one fired a makeshift shotgun my way. Gun-arm and super suit took the brunt of the hit.


    -Minor Cut (Head)


    Aside from a minor cut to the side of my head, apparently. I stepped up to him across the dried out room, while he tried to fumble for a reload - deciding to ditch the weapon for the knife on his belt a couple of seconds too late. Left fist rocketed out, a small burst of force from the miniature V-Force boosters in the back of the gauntlet empowering my punch. Metal struck him in the jaw with a crack, his malformed head snapping to the side from the force.


    As his inert body slumped down the wall, I looked out of the window. The monster was there, and even more grotesque and unbelievable now that I was about the same level as it. Roxy had struck it, but it was somewhat resistant to her blows - its flesh just vibrating away from the point of impact.


    Several cultists had clambered from the adjacent buildings, and I turned my head to see the drone hover in through the open doorway.


    [Keep an eye on Rockslide. Let me know if she needs assistance.]


    //Clara: Confirmed.


    Even holding back like the League had trained her, she would have no trouble debilitating any number of cultists. I¡¯d seen her take minimal damage from firearms, so as long as she kept moving and they didn¡¯t have a way to pin her down, she would be fine.


    My gaze went to the groaning figure in the fetal position, clutching at their stomach. Outside of being a sidekick, I would have put something through their skull - or at least gave them a goodbye kick. Now I had to be better and act the part. So I shrugged.


    Took two clean steps back towards the door, and the floor beneath me groaned.


    I stopped as the creak continued to push the very real threat through my ears and into my brain.


    [No.]


    My request went unheeded, as the dried planks gave way and I dropped down to the floor below amongst dusts and broken wood.


    A cultist broke my fall, the other three in the room not looking too pleased at me being an uninvited guest. Shotgun blast went slightly off-target as I broke through furniture before landing on the floor amongst the crushed body and apparent table. Nerve shot hit one of my assailants in the arm, the limb going limp, and their weapon falling to the floor.


    Rolled backwards and up to my feet to avoid the swinging attack of a¡­ electro-whip. My eyes narrowed behind my goggles, and a flicker of anger burning in my chest as the spent cartridge ejected from the chamber of my gun-arm.


    Stepped forward for the follow-up and raised my shotgun so that the whip spun around the end of the barrel, gripping it tight. The assailant didn¡¯t have the strength to pull against me, so we had a brief tug-of-war. Another cultist stepped in, jagged sword-like weapon swinging at me, his face obscured by a pointed hood. Blocked with my gauntlet and then kicked out at his legs. He stepped away to avoid it, but it left his footing unstable.


    I advanced, grabbing at his hood before he had a chance to bring his sword back up. Pulled his face down to meet my knee, the crack of his nose leaving an arc of blood through the air. With his hair grasped firmly beneath his hood, I activated the gauntlet boosters to pull his head back further, breaking his neck backwards.


    Sideloader activated and the hungry chamber was filled with a HE Slug.


    [I fucking hate whips.]


    Before the cultist had a chance to reevaluate his life choices, I turned the muzzle toward him - giving in to his efforts to pull me his way. Shot left me with ringing ears as the loud blast vibrated sharply throughout the room. Hole punctured through his chest, the back wall had a bloodied hole of its own, painted with his insides.


    Distant voices from other rooms as I considered my current position.


    Shell ejected and Nerve shot back in. I tilted my head to the side to regard the injured mutant nursing an arm he thought was shredded.


    [How desperate or deluded are you to march on the city?]


    ¡°We received the order from the H-high Monarch. All soft-born must suffer, regardless if I d-die or not.¡±


    Delusion then, perhaps. High Monarch wasn¡¯t a familiar name, but my mutant lore was shaky at best. Something to think about later, if I ever survived the awkward conversation looming with the super.


    I shot the cultist in the head with the Nerve shot and loaded another. I wondered what the limitations were. Probably had to be humanoid nervous systems. Some level of intelligence to be fooled from it. No doubt the League had found the right dosage that actually confused the brain - any less and it was just scratches, and any more and it would be too unrealistic to be believable.


    //Clara: Multiple hostiles en route.


    //Clara: Estimate near two dozen.


    Quite the army they had gathered. Seemed like an inefficient way to attack the city, however. Knowing that there were plenty of superheros in Goldarch, it would be one of the cities less open to random assault by mutants.


    I clutched at my head, a throbbing pain starting up. Diagnostics didn¡¯t give me any information.


    Of course. This would only make sense in one of three ways. There was a greater threat that the cultists were hiding and the monster was more dangerous than expected. Or this was a decoy, and another force was also making a move on a different target. Last option was this was a cultivated test by the League - they¡¯d been brewing their own bad guys for target practice.


    Wouldn¡¯t put the latter one past them, although part of me hoped it was a true enemy. The squad did need to shake off the rust, but¡­


    My eyes narrowed, and I looked around the empty room, the sounds of footsteps echoing down the hall fast approaching. There was no squad, only me.


    And the super.


    I shook my head out. Heat was clearly getting to me.


    Checked the chamber and strode to meet the cultists. Stopped by the crushed mutant and looked at the splintered furniture. Kneeled down to pick up a couple of long nails.


    I may be slowly losing the sense of who I was.


    But I sure as hell knew what I was good at.

 37 - Harder they Fall

    I had never been someone much for music. I¡¯d heard it in passing, of course, and didn¡¯t have any disdain for it¡­ but in shuttering myself off from normal life, I had denied myself the joy of the stuff. Pleasant melodies, a rhythmic beat that spoke to the soul, and soft lyrics to inspire and uplift mood. But now, it was as if a wound had opened up within my core and needed filling.


    Luckily for me, the imminent violence etched some rough bastardization of a tune through my head. Multitude of booted feet thumping against aged floorboards. Clatter of weapons intending to cause me pain and death. Low voices ranging between panic and anger rising in volume as they drew closer. My shotgun chamber clacked open and closed in symphony. Something heavy and industrial, a pounding bass that worked a cursed duet alongside my blossoming headache.


    I wasn¡¯t much of a dancer, but I could go with the flow.


    One step forward, and my cyborg arm flashed out. The open doorway briefly blocked by the first of my dance partners before the muzzle end of my shotgun cratered the bones in his face. He bowed out and allowed me more space on the dance floor. The hallway - now teeming with cultists impatient to wait their turn. Overcharge ramped up in a rising crescendo before we hit a high note.


    A blast and the ball of force pulsed out, accompanied by the nails I had loaded into the chamber. Two knocked back from the wave of energy. Behind them, one received a nail through the neck, and another through a hand raised in defense.


    They scattered like roaches, some small amount of sense in their heads telling them that standing in a long corridor was a poor tactic. Shame, as I was just getting into the swing of things.


    Into the side rooms they went, while a couple still thought they had a decent chance. Leaping over the knocked back cultists, one with some mania in his eyes brought down a sharp axe toward me. Sparks rang out as I deflected it with my gun-arm, his follow-up actually quicker than I could reset my positioning. Knife was already up in my other hand and I blocked the edge from finding a home in my chest.


    He leaned into it, putting his full weight into trying to bury his weapon down into me. Even with all that effort, he was barely winning against my single arm. Gauntlet boosters tipped the scales, and my blade slid past his axe and gouged through his throat. Nerve shot into the one behind him and then I ducked and slid into the doorway beside me. A chorus of barks snapped from makeshift firearms, putting holes and shredding wood in the rough area I had stood.


    Unlike the pigmen, a morale victory was less likely with the fervent monster-worshipping cultists. Their High Monarch had sent them off on a do-and-die mission, and they were perfectly happy to run themselves into bloody ribbons against my pointed disdain.


    Empty cartridge bounced across the decaying carpet, small tufts of dust rising from where it landed.


    Still, they were untrained and inexperienced. Those who were born and lived in the wasteland were tougher than most - hence their disgust at the ¡®soft-born¡¯, who were just normal people growing up in the city. They had no formal training, however¡­ like I had.


    Ah? I winced as my brain ached a little more. The point that I was trying to make is that they weren¡¯t geared toward fighting like this. Tactics were as thin as my patience. Even now I could hear them hesitating to step back into the hallway.


    The room across from me buzzed as the dragonfly drone circled in to spot me, before moving back out into the unseen open. Clara was circling around to try to keep tabs on both of us. Smart, but cameras on us might be a nice alternative for when the drone wasn¡¯t viable.


    Took two steps back and then powered toward the thin walls. Wallpaper and paint long turned to ash and browned curls across the dusty floor. Cyborg shoulder struck aged plaster and weakened wood and I burst through in a obscuring cloud. Three were standing by the open door, waiting for me to peek my head out. One got a face full of my powdered shoulder, while the last stood by the window on the left - possibly waiting for a reason to try to escape.


    Nerve shot knocked one out and disabled the leg of another by the door. I turned as the third swung around his single-shot rifle, the blast ringing out in all our ears. Should have brought my ear plugs.


    -Superficial Wound (Right Torso)


    Super suit had stopped it from going into my lung, the twisting movement not enough to get my cyborg arm in position to deflect it. Window cultist lunged at me with a spear, the scraping noise of the crooked blade across my gauntlet shortly followed by a notification that-


    -Piercing Wound (Left Shoulder)


    I grabbed the shaft of the weapon and pulled the man towards me, Overcharge powering up as I brought the gun-arm around. His insistence on holding on to the weapon for dear life proved his undoing, as I jabbed his undefended throat and unleashed the V-Force blast. Windpipe and half of his throat split and ruptured from the power, and I swung around to see that the other two had now vanished from this room.


    Wasn¡¯t in the mood to play this kind of game.


    //W: How is Roxy faring?


    //Clara: Monster is surprisingly resilient.


    //Clara: She is more frustrated than anything.


    //W: Tell me something I don¡¯t know.


    Wiped the sweat from my brow. There was something else in the air here that I was only starting to get the feel of. Familiar¡­ to some degree. Tired of playing whack-a-mole with the cultists, I needed to go against the super.


    No¡­ I needed to go assist the super. We had worked well as a duo out in the wastes before - and at the cloning factory. Splitting up had been a pragmatic attempt to clear up everything nice and tidy, but we needed to be together. Ugh. I really needed a break from this.


    I checked my six for¡­ not sure what. Looked back at my hand instead, flexing my fingers. The callsign Roxy had used tapped away in my head, before the cautious face of a cultist popped around the doorway to see if I was still here.


    [You have one last chance to flee and live.]


    The face vanished out of sight again. Murmured whispers in the background.


    //W: How far from the ground am I?


    //Clara: Too far. But two doors to the north there is some debris.


    //Clara: Still risky.


    North took me further into the throng of indecisive mutants. Typical. I sighed and tried to expel some of the cloud fogging my mind. Clearly, I could have done with a rest after my surgery. Still had plenty planned for the day after this. Talk with Roxy. Probably ask Clara more about her options for learning. Pick up my trailer and dummies from the courier Hal sent. Check out the contract sent over. Oh, that reminded me that I should have another look at more things to get.


    About time I started buying my own ammunition and equipment - more important than a bath, I had decided. Although, a soak sounded like the perfect way to unwind from such a long day.


    Alright, they¡¯d had their chance.


    Leaned down to grab the blunt end of the spear, my boot holding the rest down so that I snapped a few inches of the wood off. Chamber open, ejecting unspent shell. Wooden stake in and chamber closed. V-Force drive hummed in anticipation before I stoked the flames further by powering up Overcharge.


    Gun-arm up, I fired the projectile through the wall just beside the doorframe, impaling whoever was just beyond. Scooped up the unused Nerve cartridge before I moved out into the hall. Shotgun blast across into the room opposite before I headed north. The corridor filled with bodies once more, like flies gunning for the hottest shit that just dropped.


    Knife into one as I reloaded. Bullet embedded into my left collar area before falling out, a minor wound. Nerve shot buckling the next before I followed up with an elbow. Gauntlet boosters powered the tip of my knife forward, digging through an eye and into the cultist¡¯s brain. Small feeder arms of the sideloader fed the second HE Slug into the chamber as I ducked and turned to avoid the wide swing of a sharp weapon. Muzzle up into the stomach of the closest and I blew through most of their internal organs.


    Stood and an arrow cut along the side of my head, narrowly avoiding striking my goggled eye. I ignored the pinging notifications of the minor injuries I was sustaining. Irrelevant. Dislodged teeth clattered against the wooden floorboards as my gauntlet struck jaw. Kick to take out their footing and then a shove to knock them into their companions.


    Knife back to my belt as I blasted another Nerve shot down the cluttered hallway. The faux-injured backed off into the rooms to allow the undamaged to have their turn against me. Left hand pulled a gray shell from my bandolier and slapped it in the open chamber. Blocked the jab of a knife, taking a step back as the mutant spun into a flurry of attacks. Trigger clicked, and the payload struck the upper wall - a burst of thick gray smoke suddenly filling our location.


    I couldn¡¯t see through the dense fog, but neither could they. Thankfully, there were a lot more of them than there was of me.


    Fist up and clenched, I became a locomotive of hard-hitting metal. A punch with the gauntlet as I stepped forward, before lashing out with my muzzle. Emptied the Nerve shot into whoever was foolish enough to stand in the way. Bones snapped and mutants yelped out as I connected with a couple as I stepped forward.


    Vague shape of an open door to my right, the dark wood of the frame only slightly visible. Next one was my ticket out of here. Overcharge spooled up and took the next Nerve shot out at record speed, the trail behind the blast sucking the gray smoke along like a vacuum. Slight visual of what lay ahead before the fog settled in once more.


    Most were hiding or had retreated now, if they weren¡¯t laying injured on the floor. Turned into the room where the sunlight broke through the mist, allowing me to clock the waiting cultist in the head with my arm.


    //Clara: Rockslide requires assistance.


    I moved without hesitation. Boots bit into the floorboards and I sprinted forward, bringing my gun up across me to weather to impact as I burst out from the empty windows, shattering the frames and most of the wall.


    Twisted as I had a brief second of free fall, before landing with a thud on some slanted stone debris. Rolled a couple of times as I slid down, before hitting the ground proper.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    -Hairline Fracture (Lower Left Leg)


    Dust swept around me, shaken up by my impromptu entrance to the main stage. The heat was worse out here, and part of me slightly regretted the choice. Several cultists lay strewn across this open square between the ruined buildings, unconscious or in slightly broken positions.


    Two remained active, although one was currently in the grasp of the super. A barbed rope was wrapped around her right thigh, drawing blood - the end of which had been tied amongst a group of fallen rocks. It looked as though the monster was preventing her from removing it in some way - although the two arrows in her shoulder probably weren¡¯t helping.


    The monster itself looked worn out. Splits in its flesh from the powerful impacts of the super, bruises and welts forming, but yet it persisted. Upon my arrival, it turned one of its large eyes down to view me.


    Hated that.


    Gun-arm up. Overcharge brought the last sideloaded HE Slug readied. A blast that risked not having the range - but I was promptly rewarded, as the eyeball of the creature burst from the explosive round to spatter across the heated rock below.


    Roxy head-butted the cultist in her hand before throwing them away like a discarded can. The monster wailed out, their mouth opening wide in a cry for help from the remaining mutants.


    I flung my knife over to the super, which she caught with little issue, immediately setting about to cut the rope from her leg.


    [Try using that against the monster. I¡¯ll keep the rest away from you.]


    She might hesitate in using a weapon, as it wasn¡¯t what the League wanted of her. Unfortunately, I had some sway and a desire to actually kill things rather than force a handicap due to thematic reasons.


    I turned around to face the apartments I had escaped from. Stims warmed me, doing enough to make my leg feel normal enough. Nerve shot racked in as the first of the cultists emerged from the wide front doors.


    Took two of them out in quick succession, but by now their numbers were thinning to a degree that actually made them waver. Any remaining cultist lost their passion for the cause and either hid away or ran off somewhere I couldn¡¯t see them. Too hot to give chase, anyway.


    With a deep sigh, I rotated back to see the monster.


    Now with a two deep gouges running across most of its bulbous body. Bleeding profusely, but too tired to put up any more of a fight. Energy had drained, and it had been abandoned by its followers. The one good eye was hazy and unfocused, the wide mouth lolled open, unable to do little more than groan. Roxy was beside it and leveled a jab and an uppercut before spinning into a back-kick. The monster tilted, before flopping over onto its side, one last harsh breath of air exiting its lungs as it couldn¡¯t survive its own lax weight.


    I scanned around for any more cultists waiting in the wings, but they were long gone. Relaxing my gun-arm, the throb of my headache seemed to wane, before I clocked Roxy approaching me.


    ¡°Broke your knife, sorry.¡± She gave me a glum shrug, but the excitement of battle still played in her eyes.


    [No problem. I am surprised you don¡¯t have something to deal with blunt force resistant foes.]


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m surprised you made me throw you through the air like that. Pretty sure I was going to kill you.¡±


    [If I were in charge of you, you¡¯d have maybe¡­ a large hammer. Flat surface on one side for blunt, and then a sharp side on the other for piercing or slashing.]


    She tilted her head and put her hands on her hips. ¡°If you were in charge of me?¡± Her face twinged with pain.


    I kneeled down to have a look at the wrapped circle of cable that was still around her leg. An odd rope that was made out of flexible metal strands, interlaced with occasional pointed barbs. Seemed like it was designed to tighten and constrict, in a way that reminded me of the Pythons.


    [Wearing this for fashion purposes, or would you like a hand?]


    She looked down at me. ¡°If you could? I couldn¡¯t seem to get my fingers in the right place.¡± We maintained eye contact for a couple of seconds before I glared at the material.


    [You couldn¡¯t just flex and burst it off?]


    ¡°I¡¯m flattered, Dubs, but things don¡¯t - ah!¡±


    I stood up, the errant constraints now in my hand as she rubbed at her leg where it had pierced her through. ¡°How did you even¡­?¡±


    [Sidekick powers. I¡¯m here to make your life better. Easier.]


    With a grunt, I looked back out to the wastes to avoid whatever expression she was putting on. With a descending buzz, Clara¡¯s drone hovered down beside us, the dragonfly-shaped object looking from side to side at us both.


    //Clara: Area deemed secure.


    //Clara: I¡¯ll call it in on Rockslide¡¯s word.


    //Clara: Best to come back to the van, unless you need time alone~


    [Clara says we should head back. She will notify the League if you confirm mission success.]


    Roxy turned her head to regard the monster once more. It hadn¡¯t drawn breath since collapsing, and was currently just leaking internal fluids at a rate that might signal its heart was no longer pumping. Exhaling through her nose, she pulled a face. ¡°You keep many alive to even be arrested?¡±


    [Some. Plenty with at least minor injuries.]


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you had some restraint.¡± She gestured to where the van was and we set off moving.


    [Really? You¡¯d take on a sidekick without having full confidence in their adherence to the rules?]


    ¡°Don¡¯t be an ass, Dubs. You know that¡¯s not what I meant.¡±


    I raised my goggles from my eyes, the true light of the plains hurting and briefly blinding me, but erasing some of the pain in my skull. Was sweating up a storm in this heat, but I wasn¡¯t sure it was just the combat in this environment making me feel strung out.


    [Apologies. Something has set me off in a bad mood. I will be glad to be away from here.]


    ¡°Understood.¡± Her concern melted away to form a grin. ¡°And you kicked ass today, Dubs. I definitely would have eaten a lot more shit having to fight them all myself.¡±


    [We work well as a squad. Team. Duo. I hope our further tests go just as well.]


    ¡°Me too.¡± Her eyes relaxed as we approached the embankment leading to our way out of here. ¡°You know, it¡¯s a lot easier to tell that you¡¯re smiling with your goggles up.¡±


    [You¡­ can tell?]


    Roxy gave me a brief nod before leaping from the edge, clear over the van to the other side of it. I didn¡¯t even realize I gave away any indication that I could express such an emotion like that. My boots slid me down the sandy slope until I reached the vehicle and stepped inside.


    ¡°Top work, both of you.¡± Clara tilted her head back, already back in the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Initial response from the League is positive, but they¡¯ll debrief Rockslide fully in due course.¡±


    ¡°Joy,¡± the super murmured.


    I gave a nod, but didn¡¯t have the strength to give any better response. Almost considered unhooking my vocalizer. Mentally I felt uncomfortable, as if I had awoken from a bad dream that soured my mood that my waking brain couldn¡¯t quite put to rest. The crates of unasked questions at the back of my mind were cracked and leaking black tar out into the otherwise simple, clean furnishings of my hitman psyche.


    Part of me didn¡¯t know what to make of myself, let alone Roxy.


    So I spent the rest of the journey back in some quasi-meditative state. Eyes closed and just trying to grab hold of the edges of the puzzle pieces floating away. Super soldier, so being part of a squad made sense. There must have been a group of us, which is why fighting alongside Roxy made me feel better. It felt good to tie that thought up, as simple and straightforward as it was.


    I had probably been a fighter and killer in that old life, which made rescuing and retooling me quite a boon for Boss. Syphoned away the memories to just leave the functional monster underneath. I just need pointing towards something to murder and the reassurance that I was meant to be a dark and grubby secret, hidden away from normal society.


    As much as he was now pushing me toward something different, I had a feeling that Boss was secretly seething over the fact that his pet hitman was straying from the nest.


    Van slowed to a stop - the time passing quicker than expected on the way back.


    ¡°I need to finish packing,¡± Clara informed us, ¡°since I was interrupted. Rockslide - I had booked the whole day off, so if you have no complaints, I would like to hang out for a while longer?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Clara. You know you¡¯re always welcome.¡±


    Doors opened, and I shuffled out the back doors, glad to be in some fresher air. The grass was vibrant and my boots took me to it immediately. Clara stepped by quietly, her eyes lingering on me as she passed. I watched her enter the house before turning to see the somewhat awkward looking super standing there.


    ¡°Shall we sit?¡± She gestured to the deckchairs.


    I nodded but couldn¡¯t find any words, perhaps wondering if quickly loading the last Sanguine stake was a good way to start this conversation or not. Still, I sat beside her, and we looked out past my little shack and at the hazy shapes of the city in the distance.


    ¡°Wren told me about all the stuff Roy said to you the other day.¡± Her focus remained on the horizon. ¡°The fact that you stood up for me, and didn¡¯t back down from him aside, some of what he said was true.¡±


    [How so?]


    ¡°Strength supers get the short end of the stick when it comes to relationships. Well, a lot of supers do, really.¡± She sighed and clasped her hands together on her lap. ¡°Can¡¯t date normal humans. If you go back in the news a decade, you¡¯d find a lot of stories about why that doesn¡¯t work. Even excusing accidents, it just takes a strength super getting drunk or having a bad day and¡­ I am sure you can imagine.¡±


    League clearly trained them to have a lot of self control. Outside of combat and leaping impossible heights, there was no other indication that she had such power in her normal life. It''d only take a slight slip of that mental state to cause fatal accidents, no matter if they intended it or not.


    [So your options are other supers.]


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She leaned back. ¡°But supers are assholes. Dated another strength hero for about a year and couldn¡¯t stand it after a while. Clara never liked him, either. Loud, jealous type. Hurt his masculinity to see me grow in strength.¡± Her eyes rolled before she closed them.


    [Still, you must have plenty of fans and eligible suitors.]


    ¡°Eh. There are people who want a strong woman, or say they can handle me¡­ but they can¡¯t.¡± Her eyes opened, and she sat back forward, to give me a coy smile. ¡°I¡¯m a sack full of angry cats, and don¡¯t really get along with most people. Aside from you and Clara.¡±


    I nodded slowly. It must be difficult to have fans and have so many people''s interest in your every move. To worship and judge you based on how you look or what you do or say. Trying to build a relationship which should be something private would be untenable.


    [So is that why you are attracted to a half-cyborg?]


    Some color came to her cheeks as she pulled a face at me. Words were on the edge of her lips before she looked back out to the city. ¡°I¡¯ll admit I¡¯m attracted to danger. A shitty type to have. You¡¯re that, plus easy to talk to. Not full of bullshit like most people.¡±


    [Perhaps I¡¯m even worse than that¡­ once my old life comes back to me.]


    Her eyes met mine, trying to read me. ¡°I¡¯m willing to take that risk.¡±


    I had a moment where I felt dissociated. Wasn¡¯t that long ago I was a dirt-laden hermit, slinking through the shadows to commit foul acts just because I thought my life had no greater purpose. Now a superhero was beside me, her eyes ablaze and waiting to see what my next words were.


    Roxy looked down at the grass. ¡°I know this is a lot to put on you, and I¡¯m not expecting you to reciprocate or shit. I was cagey about things before because I don¡¯t want to ruin our friendship that¡¯s just begun - but Clara is being an asshole and thinks I should get it out of my system.¡±


    [She certainly has a way of pressing an issue.]


    ¡°Right?¡± The super gave me another smile. ¡°So if I¡¯m not your type, or you aren¡¯t interested, or you really think it¡¯s a bad idea¡­ just tell me and we can move on. Honest.¡±


    Her eyes told me that might be a white lie. Despite having one arm and being unable to kiss, I understood a little more why she had such an attachment to me. Somewhere in the middle between superhero and normal human, she hoped to avoid the normal bad vibes of the former while having more hardiness than the latter.


    Still, she was right about one thing. It would be a bad idea. I was destined for death, one way or another. Pretty sure getting closer to her would only leave me with broken bones and her with a broken heart.


    Actually, she was right about two things.


    I stood and dusted down my suit, giving a glance toward the city before looking down at her. She could see the writing on the wall, almost resigned to finishing up the rest of the ice-cream this evening.


    [You have feelings for someone who is barely a step above being a villain. The list of my crimes would get me the death sentence. Ostracized from normal society. I kill because it is all that I know, and all that I am good at. There is no chance I will cease this way of living until I stop drawing breath. You do not know who I was, nor who I will now become. Even I do not know. To pair yourself with me is to join the endless cycle of suffering and strife, and I will not allow that.]


    Her mouth opened and closed, but her voice stuck in her throat. Before she could settle on an emotion, I continued.


    [And the reason I cannot allow you to hurt as I do is because I care for you. You may have forced your way into my life, but you helped me realize I could have a life. There is no shaking what I am, or how I am built, but you were a radiant light in the darkness that I thought was my eternal fate. For this I can both never forgive you, nor ever truly thank you for.]


    ¡°Dubs¡­ I¡­¡±


    My hand rose to cut her off.


    [A relationship is still a rough road that I am unsure if I can truly travel on. But for you, I am willing to try¡­ but only on one condition. One thing you have to do first.]


    Now she looked shocked, her face flush, but some confusion mixed with excitement in her eyes. I had dangled the carrot, but the stick would be what tempered any potential flames between us.


    ¡°What¡­ what is it, Dubs?¡±


    [You have to fight me, and win.]

 38 - Playing the Part

    A gentle breeze took some of the cloud cover away, allowing us brief waves of increased illumination before the sun hid away once more. Comforting, it managed to cool away some of the ache and mental stress of the day. Looking over at the super now standing a good fifteen feet away, arms crossed, the change in weather hadn¡¯t done much to sway her current mood.


    ¡°I am not fighting you, Dubs.¡± A sour expression had her working her jaw, eyes burning into me at the mere prospect.


    My response was a shrug.


    [That was always an option. It is your choice, but the requirement still stands.]


    Roxy sighed and looked over to the side. ¡°Clara, tell him he is being unreasonable here.¡±


    The techie was sitting on one of the deckchairs, now moved over to our flank for her to be an adjudicator - or just to get a better view of proceedings. She had been focused on her laptop for the last five minutes that the super had tried to weasel out of my request. A glass of tap water and a plate holding an apple that she had been eating with a knife and fork sat beside her. Green eyes moved up from the screen to observe us both.


    ¡°Mr Dubs, if I wanted to date you, would I have to fight you as well?¡±


    ¡°Clara.¡±


    My hand went up to rub at my forehead as I considered this.


    [Unlikely. Although, I would need to prepare a different speech.]


    ¡°Dubs.¡± The super began tapping her foot. ¡°Take this a little more seriously. I don¡¯t get why we have to fight.¡±


    [Is it so unbelievable that my mating ritual would involve violence?]


    ¡°No, but¡­ I just don¡¯t feel like it¡¯s a good idea. I could really mess you up.¡±


    [If your success is so guaranteed, what are you worried about? Is this not an easy route to what you want?]


    Roxy seethed, her brow furrowed. I could see that I was gradually bringing her around to accepting my terms, even if I had to goad and annoy her to do it. If she didn¡¯t understand the reasons now, she would soon enough. Instead of prodding her further, I turned and walked over to Clara.


    She looked up at me briefly before turning her attention back to the screen.


    ¡°Just looking up my options for lecturers. League has two that are affordable and would give me a decent boost in my cybernetics career. Just trying to decide which of them I would get along best with.¡± Her fingers tapped idly at the side of her laptop.


    [No private options?]


    ¡°Well, of course, Mr Dubs. But working within budget I have to be realistic, and there¡¯s nothing wrong with the League appointed-¡±


    [Find the best private tuition and I¡¯ll pay the difference.]


    Clara¡¯s face screwed up and her eyes narrowed at me. ¡°As much as I love having a sugar daddy, Mr Dubs, I feel as though I am taking advantage.¡±


    I unclipped my drum mag to place it on the deckchair at the other end of her, followed by my mags and bandoliers.


    [Much like you would not accept me having less than A-Grade components, I require nothing but the best personal physician and cybernetics expert.]


    ¡°Personal expert, Mr Dubs? You think my life should be beholden to patching your doomed body back up?¡± Her head tilted, but there was no malice in her eyes.


    [I¡¯m a decent fixer-upper. Perfect for a fledgling prodigy to sink her teeth into and get her career off of the ground.]


    She bit her lip as a wry smile turned up at the corner of her mouth. ¡°You certainly know how to talk to a lady, Mr Dubs. Go finish your peacocking with Rockslide and I¡¯ll gather what options are available for private tuition.¡±


    I nodded, hoping she could also see that my un-goggled eyes were smiling. Finger pointed at her half-eaten apple.


    [May I borrow this knife?]


    The techie¡¯s eyes didn¡¯t leave the screen. ¡°With how much you are changing my life, you are welcome to the whole plate, Mr Dubs.¡±


    Twirled the short kitchen knife into my hand and turned away from her. Roxy looked like a storm cloud, her ears practically steaming to release the pressure. A streak of jealously perhaps, but I was sure that she understood why I was like this with Clara more than why we needed to fight. Wouldn¡¯t take much to push her over the edge now.


    [Three shells in this magazine. Gauntlet. Kitchen knife. We will pretend I have a stake in the sideloader. That is all I will use, and need.]


    ¡°Asshole.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Can¡¯t even take me seriously.¡±


    [On the contrary, it is you not taking me seriously.]


    ¡°Fine!¡± Her arms went up in exasperation. ¡°But fuck you, and fuck this. Fuck you too, Clara.¡± She shot a glare at the techie, who just raised a distracted thumbs-up in response. ¡°Fucking¡­ assholes,¡± she continued to murmur, frustration gradually melting away.


    I returned to my position around fifteen feet opposite to her and rolled my neck around. Could do with a fresh nutrition cannister, but this was bound to be a short fight. Couldn¡¯t help but be excited about it, though. Buzzing on the inside as if¡­ as if¡­ no, I wasn¡¯t able to bring up the words that tied that sentence off. It¡¯d come to me soon. Part of the reason this was happening.


    Rude of me to take advantage of her feelings, but this would be good for both of us. I was honest with her. Did care for her. Liked to spend time with her. This was the final step for me to accept I was more than a tool of murder. Whether she could accept it, too.


    [We¡¯ll go until the victor is clear. I¡¯ll try not to hurt you too badly.]


    Roxy growled and got into a ready pose, her fists up. ¡°Come and get humbled, motherfucker.¡±


    Slowly returned my goggles over my eyes before I mirrored her stance, left fist up but gun-arm not pointing at her directly. Seemed rude to start off with that. Adrenaline worked its way around my body, and I held back the urge to burst forward. There were no half-measures when fighting a super. I had preparations in place, but a real fight wouldn¡¯t have such luxury.


    With the scrape of her boot against the loose gravel, she had made her first move with little hesitation. Based on her body language on approach, she was going to test the waters with something weaker to see what it would take to knock me out. Problem for her was that she wasn¡¯t that much quicker than your average boxer - and my reflexes were decent considering my size.


    Her first jab went over my shoulder as I twisted and ducked. I lashed out with my gun-arm as I turned and she jumped into the air to avoid it. As I rolled back away, I leveled the muzzle toward her approach, and she twirled to the side to avoid a potential shot - which I held.


    Next swing struck my cyborg shoulder with a dull clonk, and I staggered backward. No damage, but she¡¯d gained some information. She could hit harder.


    My gauntleted fist swung out in retaliation, V-Force boosters activating at the last moment, but the super had her arms up to protect her head. Even with the extra power and metal protection around my hand, it was as if I¡¯d barely tapped her.


    That was just a distraction, anyway. Chamber emptied as I fired the Rubber shot into the top of her left knee. She growled and lashed out with her elbow - not the move I was expecting. My head swam as I stumbled back away, stars flaring through my vision. Warm blood ran down the side of my head where her sharp attack had gashed through my skin, my skull almost pulling the emergency sleep lever.


    Barely dodged the next one, while a twist into a kick almost killed me, and I spun away to roll across the dirt. Shakily to my feet, the kitchen knife twirled in my hand as I used it for the intended purpose. A quick jab and I slammed it into my stim pack, bursting the connections within and flooding my system with nanintes and painkilling drugs. Vision focused and brain shifted back into gear.


    I had a multitude of reasons for wanting to fight the super. One of which was because I thought it might help squeeze out more of my old memories. Something about combat brought a trickle through that dried river, and what greater thrill than fighting against someone with super powers? Adversity bred excellence. I yearned to be forged in the throes of blood and suffering. And I would win.


    Roxy muttered a curse as she went to press the advantage, but her leg was numb and lagging. The Rubber shot hadn¡¯t been enough to damage her, but by striking a joint I had temporarily slowed that limb. Of course, her next move intended to finish me off while she could.


    Her feet blew up dust as she leaped high in the air, aiming to land an indefensible punch - or just put me in a position I couldn¡¯t escape from. Trigger clicked in response and the second shell struck the ground by my feet, Smoke cartridge blooming into a dense cloud of gray around me. Everything seemed so vibrant and high definition as the stims overloaded my senses. Could almost spot the individual specs within the thick gas. Mind raced, and things slowed down.


    Rolled away with just enough time to spare, before the super landed on the ground, and her fist struck nothing. Powerful enough to swirl the thick gray smoke around us into a brief tornado. Problem was, her trajectory left her landing spot too obvious. Last shot from my magazine burst through the fog to strike her in the other leg.


    ¡°Motherfucker!¡± she yelled out.


    A loud clap came from within the obscuring mist, before the swirls of gray expanded out and dissipated - the force of her hands coming together displacing most of the density of my intent to hide her.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    She now held a hand on a leg that she thought was shredded through, but it looked fine. I¡¯d double-packed a Nerve shot on the van ride over, hoping that the extra dose would be enough to affect the strength super. It had - at least long enough for me to act.


    So now it was my turn to go on the offense. I powered up from my crouch and lashed out with my gun-arm, surprising her with the boost of speed granted by my stims. She deflected it, but my fist was already coming in for a follow-up. No issue weathering my attacks, but she was struggling with her footing due to thinking both her legs wouldn¡¯t take her backward.


    An awkward jab clipped my left shoulder and sent me into a spin. I bundled up to try to absorb her next strike, but her unresponsive legs turned it into more of a shove due to the distance. As I turned back to her, my gauntleted hand opened and threw out a handful of loose sand and stone I had grabbed when in the smoke.


    She covered her face and twisted on one leg to cover her brief blind-spot, a kick lashing out toward me - which struck me undefended.


    -Fracture (Left Wrist, Left Forearm x2, Left Upper Arm)


    -Dislocation (Left Shoulder)


    I slid across the ground, dropping to one knee as my left arm hung limp and useless.


    ¡°Oh fuck,¡± Roxy lowered her guard as panic washed over her face. ¡°Dubs, I¡¯m sorry I-¡±


    Overcharge blazed up as I tilted the muzzle toward her. A powerful cone of sand and fine gravel burst over the super, her guard going up just slightly too late.


    ¡°Asshole!¡± Her eyes scrunched, closed from the pain. ¡°Pocket sand twice, really?¡± Fists came up again into a defensive position as she tried to blink away the debris in her eyes.


    She stopped, her muscles relaxing slightly, in seeing the muzzle of my shotgun two inches from her face. The tiny arms of the sideloader whirred back and forth, putting in maximum effort despite it being empty.


    [Stake loaded. Click. You die and I win.]


    Her mouth opened and closed. ¡°What?¡±


    Clara gave us a brief round of applause from the sidelines. ¡°Want me to tend to your wounds, Mr Dubs~?¡±


    I attempted a shrug, which would probably have been painful if I could really feel anything right at this moment. Still hadn¡¯t really clocked the damage I had received as I went to remove my goggles with an arm that didn¡¯t want to move. With a long sigh, I went to go back over to the deckchairs, as the techie placed down her laptop and ran off into the house - I assume to find splints or something.


    Sat down with a grunt and looked over at the super. She hadn¡¯t really moved at all, other than to look at her leg. Fists were still up and ready. Effects of the Nerve shot seemed to be wearing off already. With a glance that told me she wasn¡¯t sure how to feel, she lowered her hands and limped over to me.


    My heart was still thundering in my chest, but my mind had cooled. I gave the end of the deckchair beside me a pat with my gun-arm, and she reluctantly sat down beside me.


    ¡°You¡¯re kind of a motherfucker, you know?¡± She looked out to the wastes, eyes red and still some powdered dust stuck to her face.


    [Of course.]


    Roxy exhaled through her nose, any remaining energy sinking from her face. ¡°I suppose this means I failed your test.¡±


    [Not really a test. More of a threshold. If you haven¡¯t changed your mind about me, we can have a best of three.]


    ¡°You haven¡¯t changed your mind about me after I fucked up your arm?¡±


    [Why would I think any less of you when you were being yourself? I¡¯ll always champion you reaching the peak of your abilities, even if I am a bloodied and broken stepping stone to that process.]


    Her eyes opened, and she tilted her head to look at me. ¡°Psycho asshole. You are sweet, though. How bad is your arm? You need proper medical attention?¡±


    Clara emerged from the house with a dark case. ¡°Four fractures and a dislocation. Apologies for the breach of privacy, Mr Dubs. After you hired me as your personal physician, I connected your maintenance node to my network so I can see your health and injury status.¡±


    The techie kneeled down in front of me and gave my mangled arm a good look-over. ¡°We¡¯ll need to cut the super suit off. Maybe the whole torso part, if you could do the honors, Rockslide?¡±


    Roxy gave her a dull look in return, before sharing the exhausted look with me.


    [I don¡¯t know. This already seems like proper medical attention.]


    After a decent amount of grumbling, the pair agreed that only the sleeve needed cutting. Neither seemed too happy with the breaks in my arm, but between them, they managed to splint my forearm and upper arm, relocate my shoulder back into place, and wrap my wrist up. The stims would speed up recovery by tenfold, so I just had to keep them rested for a while. An issue when I had work tomorrow.


    Enough adventuring for one day, we decided to go indoors and watch a movie - something Clara was mostly excited for as it was one of her favorites. Robot Without A Cause. An action flick about a time traveling automaton who went forward in time to start a war with aliens. One of the plots of all time, she assured me.


    As I sat on the center of the couch in the cool lounge, Clara to my right, Roxy stood at the doorway, leaning against the frame.


    ¡°I¡¯ll join you both later. Need a soak and then to hit the gym for a bit.¡±


    I watched her leave, the super barely waiting for our acknowledgement. The fire behind her personality had all but gone out, and I felt a pang of guilt.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Clara said, looking up at me. ¡°Although hiding a potential relationship behind winning a duel is a little cruel, she is mostly suffering from a bruised ego.¡±


    [You think so?]


    ¡°I know why you did it, too. You want a contingency plan in case you turn bad.¡± She clicked her fingers. ¡°Replacing one kill-switch with a much more attractive one.¡±


    [Very astute. That was one of the reasons.]


    Selfish of me to use her in that way. To unearth my memories and ensure someone was strong enough to put me out of my misery. If she didn¡¯t have the heart to hurt me in a low stakes fight, how could we be something more, knowing she was afraid of her own power in the relationship?


    We sat in silence and watched the movie for a few minutes before she shuffled and wrinkled her nose up.


    ¡°I found three private tuition options.¡±


    [Who is the best?]


    She clucked her tongue. ¡°Accepting your help is one thing, Mr Dubs, but there is a limit to what is acceptable and appropriate.¡±


    [Humor me.]


    ¡°Kristin Jarl. He¡¯s one of the pioneers of advanced cybernetics and related technology, almost unparalleled in the field. He only tutors a select few, and has a rigorous interview process that requires passing even before we talk about money. Working with him would be like¡­ a dream for most in a technical career.¡±


    [Book the interview then. I trust that you could pass it.]


    Clara¡¯s eyes looked back and forth across my face, my goggles back up atop my forehead. ¡°Mr Dubs, you¡¯ve been so kind to me, but you cannot offer a woman false hope.¡±


    [I apologize. It is unfair for me to be so pushy about your career. What are the costs?]


    ¡°You have good intention, and this is what I want to do¡­ but we must be realistic.¡± She exhaled through her nose and looked at the movie. ¡°One million credits per year. Two years'' duration, but after that I could be employed anywhere in the world, or even join one of his research teams.¡±


    I nodded slowly, but didn¡¯t reply immediately. It was clear it was something she had imagined at one point or another. The pinnacle of potential career growth that every technician must have daydreamed about if they had any interest in the field.


    Didn¡¯t need to look at my balance to know that a difficult decision needed to be made. I had just under three million remaining. Enough for a new arm, face reconstruction, or to fund Clara¡¯s ideal career. Only one of them. Watching her unblinking eyes drink up the flickering screen across from us, it didn¡¯t seem like such a difficult choice to make.


    [Do you think you could pass the interview? Are there any downsides to trying and passing but not proceeding?]


    ¡°I think I could, yes. Other than potentially breaking my heart from the what-ifs, there would be no downside to at least trying, even if it goes nowhere.¡±


    [Would you do that for me?]


    ¡°For you, Mr Dubs?¡± She looked back at me and placed her hand gently on my gun-arm. ¡°I have already booked it. Did it while you were fighting with Rockslide, as I knew you would convince me to do it anyway.¡±


    I relaxed into the couch and tried to focus on the movie. Sometimes Clara was too smart for her own good. If she did pass the interview¡­ well, then I wouldn¡¯t let her down. Already was too rough with handling Roxy¡¯s heart. I didn¡¯t need to break another.


    We settled into watching the movie again. I wasn¡¯t paying too much attention, and perhaps she could tell. The starting stages of Stim withdrawal had me tired, and a little agitated. A long day of fighting and socializing had taken its toll on me. Didn¡¯t hate it¡­ it was just a lot to deal with.


    ¡°I was quite young when I lost my eyes.¡±


    Eyebrow raised as I turned my head to the techie, her concentration still focused ahead.


    ¡°Collateral damage. You know the superhero Angel?¡± She waited for the nod I gave her. ¡°Back when she was an A-Rank hero, she was fighting against a villain. Red Powder. He had¡­ laser eye-beams. Spilled out to the suburbs¡­ both my parents died.¡±


    [That¡¯s terrible, I¡¯m sorry.]


    ¡°Only thing I can remember was a flash of light and then red. The press of rubble on me. I was rescued by the robot hero, Can-Can. Explains some things, huh? Always wanted to work with him after that, but he¡¯s retired now.¡±


    [And then the League took you in?]


    ¡°In a way.¡± She shrugged. ¡°They offered me some basic eyes as the least they could do. Due to my aptitude for tech, I was able to negotiate the A-Grade ones I have now, in return for working for them until they were paid off. Rockslide was actually the first person I saw when I woke up after the surgery. She was in for cutting up her legs, and we had time to bond and¡­ we¡¯ve been like close sisters since. She¡¯s my family now.¡±


    [Did you keep your eyes like that because of Can-Can?]


    ¡°Correct, Mr Dubs. We often attribute safety and care to the soft warmth of flesh, but those moments where I was weakest and alone, it was hard metal and manufactured parts that kept me from falling apart emotionally.¡± Her eyes finally moved from the film to look at me. ¡°Often care can come from places we least expect.¡±


    I maintained her gaze and gave her a brief nod.


    [Thank you for sharing your story with me.]


    She relaxed and gave me a brief smile, turning her eyes back to the television. ¡°Pay attention now, this is one of the best bits.¡±


    I attempted to do just that, but found my mind wandering. Thoughts of Roxy and Clara. Boss and the League of Heroes. Old me and new me. There was so much for me to try to process, my aching and fragmented mind struggled to piece together any real functional thought. Hadn¡¯t even checked the contract out yet... I had been so wrapped up in current events.


    A shadow moved across the doorway, breaking me from my stupor - Roxy had returned, now just in a casual t-shirt and shorts. Not baggy, but clearly comfort clothes. In turning my head, I only now realized that Clara had fallen asleep. Her head was resting against my cyborg shoulder, hand still placed on my gun-arm.


    Roxy raised an eyebrow, but gave me a smile as she walked in. ¡°Movie that good, huh?¡±


    [No idea. Haven¡¯t been able to focus on it. Clara told me about her eyes.]


    ¡°Ah.¡± The super sat down on the left side of the couch, beside me. ¡°That explains it, then. Looks like she trusts you completely, Mr Moneybags.¡±


    [Do you think it is wrong for me to finance her?]


    Roxy pulled a face, but shook her head. ¡°As her big sis, I want what¡¯s best for her. Whatever arrangement you have with her is fine with me, as long as you don¡¯t hurt her feelings.¡±


    I looked at the sleeping technician, who seemed rather content to use me as a pillow, before back to the super.


    [Perhaps that is all that I¡¯m good for.]


    She rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m a hardass, Dubs. I got a little salty, but you¡¯re not rid of me that easily. When do I get my round two?¡±


    I looked down at my aching arm. Stims could only do so much to repair the bone breaks, and fighting her at anything less that my full capability would be doing her a disservice.


    [Unknown. I will need all my strength tomorrow for work, after that it depends on my recovery.]


    ¡°Oh fuck, you¡¯re working tomorrow and I fucked your arm up? Will you still be able to¡­?¡±


    She didn¡¯t have the heart to say ¡®go murder someone¡¯ out loud, despite it hardly being a secret among current company - even if we currently had ears listening in as well.


    [I¡¯ll survive. Worst-case scenario, I¡¯ll just tear it off and get a new robot arm replacement. Maybe another shotgun.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t, you... asshole.¡± She sighed and deflated into the couch. ¡°Like, I can deal with not kissing for now, and your gun-arm we can work around, but if we end up not even being able to hold hands¡­ well, I¡¯m going to be a little disappointed.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow at her while she stared at the window opposite with an exaggerated pout. Still beyond me why she had feelings for me, but I was glad that we had opened that can and let things air out. Being honest was the way forward, and instead of winding her up about still having to beat me, it was only fair for us to have a little reward for our day hard won.


    [What is¡­ ¡®holdings hands¡¯?]


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a prick, Dubs.¡± She scowled at me. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you know what that means.¡±


    I furrowed my brow and gave her the best poker face I could manage with just the top half of my head.


    [No? Could you show me?]


    Roxy¡¯s eyes stared at mine for a few seconds, waiting for the punchline. When none came, her mouth screwed up and eyes narrowed. Still unsure if I was trying to pull a fast one, her arm moved slowly, gradually crossing mine to ensure she didn''t jostle all the broken parts. The warmth of her hand slipped into mine, and her fingers intertwined gently. ¡°It¡¯s like this.¡±


    [Oh. In that case, I think I might want to keep the hand.]


    ¡°Shame,¡± Clara murmured.


    The super exhaled deeply, a soft smile forming on her face.


    Her head rested against my aching shoulder, and the three of us watched the credits roll as our own day slowly drew to a close.

 39 - Convincing Delivery

    I shook back and forth in the darkness. Partly because my stim withdrawal had me feeling dry and in need of a week¡¯s sleep. The other reason was because the trail northward in the van was a little bumpy, which also made my internal organs feel like they were melting.


    [Thanks again for helping me pick up my delivery.]


    ¡°Of course,¡± Clara replied from the front. ¡°You currently have no opposable thumbs. I couldn¡¯t let you ride off into the sunset and die.¡±


    The hues of said sunset illuminated the pair in the front seats, but it barely reached the back cabin, aside from highlighting some sharp edges I might open up my skull on if I started feeling any worse.


    ¡°Plus,¡± she added, ¡°I doubt you¡¯ve added me to your will yet.¡±


    [Difficult, as I do not have a proper name or identity.]


    Roxy turned her head back to look at me. ¡°Oh. That reminds me. We need to get you a sidekick name soon.¡±


    [Ugh. Rain check.]


    ¡°That¡¯s not very on-theme.¡±


    I went to respond to that, before clocking the grin on her face. Instead, I just shook my head. She had been in a better mood since I had charmed her into holding hands for a few minutes. A breach of the rules I had set up, but such things were always meant to be broken. The excitement in her eyes at the prospect of a second duel matched exactly how I felt. She wouldn¡¯t hold back or underestimate me next time, I could tell.


    Another reason that I made her fight for what she wanted. League taught them to be restrained and to keep things simple¡­ but real fighting was complicated. If we ever got into actual hot water, I¡¯d need to know that she could use her abilities to their fullest. It was the only way I could trust her.


    The only way I could trust myself.


    Wasn¡¯t sure why I needed her as a contingency, but the duel had hammered home¡­ something. The shards of a past memory had fallen into my grasp, but my current exhaustion didn¡¯t allow me to assemble them in a way where I could bask in the revelation they promised. Frustrating.


    ¡°We¡¯re here, Mr Dubs. Courier should arrive shortly.¡±


    The van slowed to a stop, and Roxy hopped out of her side to circle around and open the back doors for me. Left arm was up in a sling now so that I stopped flopping the broken parts all over the place - which made many tasks even more complicated than usual.


    My boots hit the loose gravel, and I gave the super a nod of thanks. She had changed back into her super suit, still awkward at being seen in anything else. As Clara wound down her window, Roxy followed me the fifteen or so feet to the debris and cluttered stone I had decided was a landmark.


    I sat, too tired to stand, and a long sigh left my re-breather.


    The super stood with her arms crossed, fidgeting slightly. ¡°Dubs¡­ I know we had a thing over this earlier¡­ but my spare room, you¡¯re welcome to¡­¡±


    [Appreciated, but at this stage I will decline.]


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll have dibs, Rockslide.¡± Clara leaned out of the window. ¡°Maybe Mr Dubs can find somewhere else to shack up?¡±


    ¡°Do you ever stop?¡± Roxy pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°Aren¡¯t you working tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°I was considering pulling a sick day, depending on what Mr Dubs had planned.¡±


    I tilted my head from side to side, which did little but make me ache more and remind me my cannister and stims were both empty and in need of replacement.


    [In the morning I was thinking of taking my bike into the shop. Then mostly rest until work in the evening.]


    The techie nodded. ¡°How about I give you a lift there and back, and I can assist you with your training, Mr Dubs?¡± I hadn''t mentioned training, but it felt like a decent idea.


    [That would actually be very helpful, Clara. Thank you. Care to join us, Roxy?]


    She stuck out her bottom lip and glared off towards the city. ¡°Can¡¯t. Working all day. Apparently there was a prison break this morning and I need to be part of a meeting to go over it, and then I¡¯ve got the debriefing for today¡¯s bullshit.¡± She raised a middle finger up at Clara as the techie had stuck her tongue out. ¡°Worried about your work, though, Dubs. Wish there was something I could do. You know, without becoming an accomplice.¡±


    [Perhaps don¡¯t fall for someone so easily kickable next time.]


    ¡°Asshole. You still won and I get it. I was too worried about your safety to seal the deal. Should have known you were gonna pull that kind of shit.¡±


    [Were you hoping that I wouldn¡¯t be so fragile?]


    She licked her lips and twisted side to side slightly, trying to let the truth wriggle free. ¡°Yeah, kinda.¡±


    [I will never have your raw strength or resilience. However, as you grow and start to patch up your weaknesses, I too will always try to keep a step ahead to push you forward. As I complete my own training, I will remain a challenge for you, no matter your power. That''s a promise.]


    Roxy smiled and bit her tongue. ¡°I fully believe you too, Dubs. You¡¯ve got the right mind for it, like you¡¯re designed to¡­¡± her thought trailed off as she looked over at the city again, two orbs of light approaching us. ¡°Oh, looks like your courier is here.¡±


    I fought off the wave of vertigo that had hit me for some reason, the rising pressure that felt as though something was about to pop just tapering away almost as quickly as her sentence did. Once I was sure my brain wasn¡¯t about to leak out from my re-breather, I stood and rolled out my shoulders, immediately hurting my aching left side.


    ¡°Good thing I have a tow-bar,¡± Clara said. ¡°Trailer and some training dummies, right?¡±


    [Correct.]


    We continued to watch in silence. It had been a long day for all of us - and I would have missed the courier if the movie had gone on for much longer. Once the credits had finished cycling across the screen, we felt a little awkward about being all huddled up together. Or at least I did. Goggles went on to hide away, and there were notifications from Hal confirming the time of delivery, and the contract from Boss - which I avoided.


    The odd grouping of the three of us had felt comforting in the moment because we had the need to be grounded. A crush that had patience and understanding for me, taking me away from my misery. Chaos in her life that seemed to temper around me. The other was some form of flirty gremlin scientist who had a side that I felt I needed to protect. Two odd friends who had somehow come to accept a contract killer with a murky past.


    Felt¡­ impossible. Untenable, really. But now that I had them in my life, I couldn¡¯t imagine it any other way.


    I sure hoped that I survived the contract tomorrow, and this wasn¡¯t as good as it got.


    My muscles tensed up as the murmuring van rolled up close to us, turning to the side to reveal the packed trailer behind. The vehicle itself was slightly wider and longer than Clara¡¯s, and the rust-red paint job was weather-worn and fading away. Clearly saw a lot of use over a number of years - which made me trust the whole process more.


    Door opened, and the courier hopped out.


    Worn boots, dirtied blue overalls that had all manner of dust, paint, and grease over them. Thick undershirt with rolled-up sleeves. Confusion in his light-gray eyes as he turned his head side to side to look at the three of us. His dirty-blonde hair formed a thick mustache and long mullet.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°This ain¡¯t some kinda bust, is it?¡± he asked, running his tongue along his lower lip.


    Turning up to a random point in the wastelands to do a discreet delivery and finding two people in super suits next to a dark van was probably suspicious.


    [No. I am Mr Dubs.]


    ¡°Oh!¡± His apprehension immediately washed away to be replaced with a wide grin. ¡°Pleasure, then. I¡¯m Van Michaels, and this¡­¡± He gave his vehicle a gentle pat. ¡°This is Van Michaels¡¯ van. Her name is Darla.¡±


    I maintained a neutral stare.


    [Do you say that to everyone?]


    ¡°Indeed, I do! Funny thing is - it just doesn¡¯t get old.¡± He crossed his arms and looked pretty pleased with himself.


    [How long have you been doing this, Van Michaels?]


    ¡°Been a runner for¡­ this year¡¯s our sixth anniversary.¡± He put his hand on the side of the van. ¡°Three mostly in the city, before we¡¯ve been branching out more. She has the soul of an adventurer, y¡¯see. Couldn¡¯t do this without her.¡± Some form of adoration filled his eyes as he gazed at¡­ Darla.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Clara said from behind us. ¡°A man figuratively-adjacent to being after my own heart.¡±


    He tilted his head in response, brow furrowing. ¡°D¡¯ya know you have a weird ghost lady haunting your vehicle, Mr Dubs?¡±


    Ignoring the fact that his van was actually more of a truck, unraveling at least half of his personality, I was keen to get my trailer so that I could go home and pass out. Stim withdrawal needed a couple of days to recover, and with my contract tomorrow evening, I¡¯d been hard pressed to be on top form with only a normal night¡¯s sleep. Still, I had plans for my bike and with Clara now as well - the woman currently with her eyes narrowed, perhaps remembering why she didn¡¯t get on with people.


    Before I had a chance to wrap this meeting of oddities up, he had finally clocked who I was standing with.


    ¡°Rockslide - no shit! Pretty sure I had an action figure of you.¡±


    The super had a dull expression on her face. ¡°I don¡¯t have that kind of merch.¡±


    Van Michaels smiled and nodded, but didn¡¯t seem inclined to further the conversation.


    [Everything is paid up, correct? There¡¯s no¡­ do I tip for this kind of service? I¡¯m unsure of the convention here.]


    Roxy wrinkled up her face and shook her head, despite the courier looking eagerly at the prospect of extra credits. ¡°There¡¯s no culture for it, so it¡¯s at your discretion.¡±


    [Oh. In that case, I do have a tip for you, Van Michaels. You should talk a lot less during your work - it will keep the taste of feet out of your mouth.]


    He gave me a quick wink. ¡°Pretty sure that¡¯s motor oil and cheap alcohol, but Darla likes the cut of your wit. Let¡¯s get your trailer moved over.¡±


    A process that would have taken a lot longer if wasn¡¯t for Roxy, who probably could have just carried the thing home instead. Without any usable hands, I felt rather useless to the process, perhaps just guarding the other two from any further strange conversation. Could always kill him - which my tired brain was a little too close to accepting as a valid option.


    With the light fading from the sky, the job was done. Van Michaels waved us off, beeping Darla¡¯s horn twice as the vehicle whirred away. Clara started our own van back up as Roxy shut me in the back before going to the passenger side.


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t sound like that to other people, do I?¡± Clara asked, turning a grimace back my way.


    [No.]


    ¡°A short and convincing answer, Mr Dubs. Thank you.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure how genuine she was being - but she did look tired. Roxy too, and I was practically dead on my feet. The only thing keeping me from passing out on the ride back was the knowledge I hadn¡¯t opened up the contract document yet.


    Didn¡¯t want to.


    Not that I had a sudden change of heart over my vocation, or thought it would be something unpleasant¡­ as that was almost guaranteed, anyway. I just felt that¡­ today was a full three course meal of what I could be eating if I weren¡¯t under Boss¡¯ thumb. It was hard to believe the morning spent under Clara¡¯s knife was part of the same day as the duel with Roxy and our inefficient movie evening. Not to mention the monster mission from the League.


    I¡¯d never had a day so jam-packed. Didn¡¯t hate it, either. Had almost considered accepting Roxy¡¯s offer of a proper bed for the night. I ached for it, even¡­ but things were moving fast and I had to take a re-breath to fully prepare for how things were developing. That was how I was trained, after all. Always be prepared. Adversity breeds excellence.


    My brow furrowed at these two points, as if the corpse of something long dead had finally bubbled its way to the surface of the thick swamp water. That last part felt like a slogan, as I had thought the exact same phrase earlier. As for my apparent training¡­ was that a fresh clue or just something obvious my exhausted brain was clinging to?


    Would make sense. A super soldier would be trained. Some of that would be about being prepared.


    Back doors popped open. My eyes blinked as I hadn¡¯t realized we¡¯d even made the journey back already. Roxy helped me out, and I saw that she had already moved my trailer over near my house. Despite my shack being a pit of misery, the sight of potential rest had me excited about the prospect of any sort of time away from the turmoils of existence.


    ¡°You sure, Dubs?¡±


    I turned my head back to her. Still some guilt over breaking my arm, maybe. She felt bad that I¡¯d have such a miserable excuse for a home to sleep in. Might be detrimental for my broken arm.


    [Today has been great, and I regret no part of it. But I am sure.]


    ¡°Alright. And ditto, aside from trashing your arm.¡± She gave me a smile. ¡°Sleep well and don¡¯t let Clara boss you about tomorrow. Rest if you need it and¡­ message me?¡±


    [You have my word.]


    Her smiled widened and her eyes went over to Clara, who was yawning and heading straight for the super''s house, barely waving us off as she made a beeline for the spare room. Roxy wavered, however, as if there was unfinished business before she could turn in for the night.


    [Still envious that Clara got a hug out of me? Quickly then, before I change my mind, just don¡¯t break anything else.]


    ¡°You¡¯re a shithead.¡± Her eyes rolled. ¡°But, I¡¯ll take it.¡±


    Put her arms around me as I placed my gun-arm across her back. Still didn¡¯t really understand all this, but I was built to win. If the target was her heart, then that just meant¡­ oh, I truly was tired. My head leaned forward next to hers, and I pressed my ear gently against hers before moving away.


    [There. Now our ears have kissed.]


    She snorted and pulled away from me, shaking her head. ¡°You really are a fucking dork, Dubs.¡± Her eyes sparkled in the early evening darkness. ¡°Hurry up and get better so that I can beat the shit out of you.¡±


    [Counting down the days. Sleep well, Roxy.]


    I watched her leave, the warmth of her presence fading away as she entered her house - pausing at the porch to give me a last wave. My head turned over to my kill room and a few ice cubes of real life clattered around in my skull, cooling my mood. Boots took me toward it, despite some reluctance in my core.


    Getting entangled with anyone was a terrible idea, much less someone from the League. Wasn¡¯t going to stop me, however. A lot of this was new ground when it came to trust alone - if this was just a scheme to manipulate me then¡­ well, I¡¯d probably end up going scorched earth against whoever was responsible. For now, I trusted my judgement that things were as they seemed. Moving fast, sure, but I was willing to believe that the super had been somewhat desperate to find a true connection with someone.


    And me?


    I was so good at my job that perhaps it was time to branch out. Fill in the blank spaces with friendship and¡­ more? As long as it didn¡¯t affect my work, then I was open to being surprised. Was self aware enough to know I was ignoring the fact that I would be going into my contract tomorrow with a weakened arm due to the odd courtship with the super.


    Traps off, door open, and dim light on. Hello dour introspection once more.


    Unloaded my gear, which was awkward with my current limb situation. Probably could have done with the extra help from the pair, but I¡¯d had my fill of awkward and tense physical contact for the day.


    Quick short breaths as I manage to escape from the sling, pain radiating down my free arm that was still healing. I panted and tried not to vocalize my discomfort. Hand up. Stim pack out. Breathe. Hand up and cannister out. Took a break to make sure I wasn¡¯t tearing myself apart. Hand up and stim pack in. Small amount washed through me, dulling my senses. Made it easier to slap the cannister in the right place and clip down the clasps.


    A brief amount of calm settled through me. Pain killed. Absolutely murdered. I let my suffering arm lay limp across my lap as I leaned back in my workbench chair and closed my eyes.


    No. I had to know what was up for grabs tomorrow.


    Notifications came up, and I settled in for the ride. First was coordinates for the reward drop - more Sanguine stakes if Boss stuck to his word. I needed those for my job of killing supers. Well, my work seemed to be fighting villains a lot more lately.


    And tomorrow would be no different.


    Somebody had put a hit out on the rest of the Five Eyes gang. The wizard I had killed had been part of it, and now the others needed to join him in whatever afterlife they believed in. My brow furrowed, some nugget of information from the day unable to take form in my skull. I shook it away to dig into the details.


    Four villains and some henchmen. Twenty-five grand per villain that I managed to knock off, but the full house wasn¡¯t necessary. Was more of a raid than anything. Do as much damage to the group as I could, but at least one of the four had to die for it to be considered done.


    Part of my brain was still working a mile a minute, the rest just couldn¡¯t keep up. Hopefully, when I woke up, I¡¯d still have the same fervor for¡­ preparation? Was that it? I couldn¡¯t just throw myself into danger without a second thought anymore?


    Wasn¡¯t sure if that was due to my new social connections, or the shadow of my past gaining more control. Confidence led it to the light, but the glare leaving me unable to work out the form it took just yet. Still, if it made me a better killer, I didn¡¯t really care.


    I had questions about so many things, but the only answer was bed.


    Longest day of my life. I hit the mattress and died with a smile on my lack of a face. A flipbook of snapshots from the day rotated in the back of my eyes as I closed them. Every page where I was having a nice time with the pair quickly pasted over by the next, which had flashes of violence. Blood and the mutants dying. Grit and a steaming shotgun. Sweat and anger.


    Something about the juxtaposition felt right¡­ or at least like a challenge I could overcome. Build a different life beyond the things keeping us back from our potential.


    As the darkness took me, I started to believe I could have my cake and kill it, too.

 40 - Rest and More

    ¡°Knock knock!¡±


    My eyes burst open like eggshells, the bright light of the day embedding itself through my fractured orbs and into my brain like hot pokers as the yolks ran from the empty sockets. Disorientation and panic swirled around my mental drain as I filtered back into the real world.


    Eyes slowly went down the wall to the wide beam of sunlight illuminating not only my stacked crates, but the petite figure of the technician, eyes a glowing green as she stood with hands on her hips.


    [Why are you in my home?]


    ¡°This is barely a home, Mr Dubs. We¡¯ve already established this is a terrible kill room as well, unless you intend on murdering someone here?¡±


    Re-breather whirred as I exhaled, my blinking eyes not able to shuffle away the dry pain currently gripping at them. Instead, I stared at her.


    [I¡¯m¡­ considering it.]


    ¡°Well, if you sit up, then I have something to wake you properly - if you trust me.¡±


    I was secretly hoping it might be a harpoon to my temple, or some manner of drug to make me sleep an extra day or two. That said, I did trust her - she had jumped into the role of being my physician and technician with gusto, and I couldn¡¯t let that enthusiasm go to waste.


    Shuffled up to a sitting position on the edge of the floor-bound mattress, a dull pain radiating through my left arm - but it didn¡¯t collapse under my weight. I closed my eyes as Clara stepped in front of me and started palming around my neck. Cannister popped out, and she pushed a new one in.


    Almost immediately a spike of cold shot through my system, as if a dried plant was suddenly given life-saving water. My eyes opened again as she stepped back away, some of the ache in them gone already.


    [What wizardry is this?]


    ¡°I took a couple of your canisters and put them in the ice-cream freezer for a bit. You¡¯ve been giving yourself the equivalent of lukewarm water all this time, Mr Dubs. Hardly refreshing.¡±


    With a grunt, I rubbed at my face. The edges of my waking mind were still screaming out for rest, but the bigger part had settled on being awake and functional.


    [Isn¡¯t that what you drink?]


    ¡°Your arm is mostly healed, but you shouldn¡¯t put too much strain on it - otherwise you will fracture easily again. Once you are ready for the day, I¡¯ll take your splints off.¡± She gave me a nod before turning on her heels and striding out of the open door.


    I allowed myself another slow sigh - one of many for the day; I was sure. Roxy warned me to not let the techie boss me about, but I didn¡¯t have the strength to argue right now. She was keen to get me training today, which seemed like a strain on my abilities - but as she could see my health status, I figured she wouldn¡¯t cause me harm knowing I had to work this evening.


    A thought that had me closing my eyes again. The credits for each kill were reasonably middling for a villain, probably to encourage me to kill more than one. Going against a nearly full team of super powered criminals seemed a bit of a stretch of my role.


    Then why was I looking forward to it?


    With a grunt, I stood to my feet and stretched out. Most of the wounds accumulated from the day prior were now healed over, aside from a weaker arm. Last time that I had overdone the stims I was near death already, so it not only hit harder but the recovery was worse. Other than the threat of a headache, I felt¡­ alive, to some degree.


    Might have to steal that freezer back from Roxy once she was done with the ice-cream. Cooled canisters were something I didn¡¯t know I was missing from my life. Could say that about a lot of things recently, in fairness.


    Stepped out into the sun and immediately regretted it. Turned my aching eyes to see the techie sitting on one of the deckchairs, chewing through part of what looked like a stack of plain bread. Now wearing a wide summer hat to shade herself and her laptop, I hadn¡¯t realized before that she was wearing shorts and a t-shirt - quite the difference to her usual work-adjacent outfits.


    ¡°I apologize for waking you, Mr Dubs. Roxy doesn¡¯t usually like me to stay over, as I am aggressively energetic in the morning, which most find unpalatable.¡±


    While I nodded, I turned my head to see that the training dummies had been set up in a square, about ten feet apart.


    [You moved those? They are reasonably heavy¡­]


    ¡°Did I mention the annoying amount of excess morning energy? Imagine if I hadn¡¯t done that first? Here, this is for you to read, Mr Dubs.¡±


    I took the glossy book that she handed over to me. The early morning Clara was very full-on, so I now understood why Roxy had to warn me about her bossiness. Given her slim and short frame, the show of strength was impressive. Of course, even I paled in comparison to Roxy. I brought the catalogue up and frowned at it.


    Essentially a gun-nuts wet dream. Firearms, ammunition, and accessories - the Public Defender catalogue had it all.


    ¡°As soon as Roxy mentioned her new neighbor had a gun-arm, I went and got my license so that I can legally order from there.¡± Clara tapped away at her keyboard. ¡°Find something for me to bring you tomorrow, Mr Dubs.¡±


    [That¡¯s¡­ incredible foresight, Clara.]


    ¡°Often foresight is just knowing what future you want to forge, and pressing reality into the shape you require.¡± She looked up from her device to raise an eyebrow at me. ¡°Only took seeing the look in her eyes when she mentioned you to know what I had to do.¡±


    I sat down beside her, being careful not to knock into her pile of bread. Catalogue on my knees, I lifted the goggles up from my eyes, wincing slightly.


    [Well, thank you.]


    She paused to watch me look out toward the city for a moment, her head tilting to the side. ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I come on too strong sometimes, Mr Dubs. I¡¯m also somewhat of a social misfit and have an awkward way of expressing platonic affection.¡±


    [It¡¯s fine, Clara. I understand the intent behind what you say. You¡¯re not interested in me in that way, and I see you more of a¡­ little sister?]


    ¡°It¡¯s better that we avoid sibling comparisons, Mr Dubs. Would make the unintentional and baseless flirting rather weird, especially when I lay it on hot and heavy for Rockslide.¡± She gave me a wry grin as she lifted a slice of bread and took a bite. ¡°But I¡¯m glad you understand, Mr Dubs. Wouldn¡¯t want to lead you into thinking you had a chance with me.¡± Her attention turned back to the laptop while she chewed.


    I flipped through a few pages of the catalog, barely even focusing on the contents. I respected the bond the two women had. Although, it was amusing to think the super¡¯s awkward attempts at flirting were with the full force of Clara putting her all into playing matchmaker. The techie just had to pin us down in the same place and apply enough pressure for things to come naturally to a head.


    [We¡¯ve been rather loose with comms lately. I feel we are asking for trouble.]


    Clara twirled the crust of her bread around while her other hand typed away. ¡°Want me to tell you a secret, Mr Dubs?¡±


    [I¡¯m all ears.]


    She looked at me and tilted the brim of her hat up. ¡°So I hear. All the better to kiss supers with. Soon after the League assigned Rockslide to monitor you, they put me on the tech side of things. I was soon replaced after the housewarming party, due to my new role as your¡­ everything else.¡±


    [Oh. But now they have someone else in that role, surely?]


    ¡°Naturally. But like usual, the flesh is the weak point.¡± She gave another coy smile and turned back to the screen. ¡°The man in charge of listening to us is rather lazy, and currently not on shift. I left a few backdoors in their system to notify when and how they are keeping an eye on us. The additional methods yesterday were because you can never be too safe - especially when you were exposing yourself to us, Mr Dubs.¡±


    I grunted and scowled off to the horizon, not really focused on anything in particular. There were so many layers of this that I had no idea about, nor any control over. I supposed I should be thankful that the pair were on my side, just because the super thought I was cute and Clara wanted her to be happy?


    Didn¡¯t seem enough to want to go against the League of Heroes. Fair enough if they were desperate for a way out, but it was a lot to risk everything on a loner cyborg hitman. In saying that, I realized the irony of my own desire to split from Boss and try to make something of my life with the super.


    [You¡¯ll tell me when they are spying on us, if we are talking about things we shouldn¡¯t?]


    Clara gave me a side-eye, not willing to fully address me. ¡°You won¡¯t like this, but I¡¯ve interfaced with your vocalizer so that I can mute you in such circumstance.¡±


    [You are correct, I¡¯m not sure I like that.]


    Now she turned to me, the green lights of her eyes reading my face. ¡°Do you trust me not to take advantage of you, Mr Dubs?¡±


    [Yes.]


    ¡°Perfect. Go strip down to your shorts so I can record you hitting the training dummies.¡±


    [Hmm. For what purpose? Planning on sending something to Roxy?]Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    ¡°I have sensor pads that need to go on bare skin. If I can record your biomechanical data while you are in combat, I may be able to discern combat improvements and upgrades to your suit and tech.¡± She wrinkled up her nose. ¡°I wasn¡¯t planning on doing full video recording, unless you are giving consent for me to do that to share with her?¡±


    Fingers tapped on the page of the catalog. Perhaps I¡¯d have a proper look later when my mind had time to settle. There were a lot of useful things in here, although it was¡­ generic? Didn¡¯t have any of the more exotic ammunition that I was keen to get my hand on. I stood up and plopped the glossy mag back on the deckchair.


    [I consent.]


    In truth, I had a little uncomfortable feeling in knowing that Clara could mute me. Not that I didn¡¯t understand the intent of it, and I did trust her to do things with my best interest in mind¡­ I just wanted a little more of a heads up. It was nothing but a mechanical switch, in a way. Just on and off - she wouldn¡¯t be able to make me say anything or activate my gun-arm because they were synapse controlled. One of the benefits of cybernetics compared to robotics.


    Stepped into my shack and removed the super suit. Would probably get into a new one after my training, although if I could convince the techie to allow me a bath, then I would be clean and fresh for the events of the evening. Murder.


    Compression shorts and boots were quite the look. I stretched out and flexed. Would probably have clocked I was more than a baseline human if I had seen my physique on the regular. Lean muscle, although I had quite the frame. Given that this was from no training aside from combat a couple of times a week, if I put the effort in, I should bulk out a little.


    Back into the sunshine and Clara had moved the deckchair closer to the grouping of dummies. Small case beside her, which she opened up as I walked over.


    ¡°Almost as pale as Rockslide, Mr Dubs. We¡¯ll do this quick so you don¡¯t burn up.¡± From the case, she withdrew a pack of small black discs, one side more metallic than the other. Shuffling her laptop off, she then stood on the deckchair and began sticking them over me. Chest, arms, stomach, back, legs.


    [This sparks a familiar memory.]


    ¡°Yeah?¡± She gave me a pat on the back to let me know she was done. ¡°It¡¯s possible this isn¡¯t your first time, Mr Dubs. This will bring up a wireframe version of yourself on my device where I can track your movement, speed, and flexibility. From there, we can analyze your fighting style, weaknesses, and key points to train.¡±


    [And¡­ the cameras?]


    ¡°I¡¯ve put a small one on each of the dummies. Figured I¡¯d spend my evening making a real cinematic compilation for Rockslide. Jump-cuts, slow motion, and I have already shortlisted several appropriate background tracks.¡±


    I went and stood in the middle of the four dummies. Thick, rubberized things with the rough approximation of a head. Several wrapped metal poles extended from their cylindrical torso to act as weapons or arms to strike or pretend to block.


    [Given the effort you put into things, I would hate to be your enemy.]


    ¡°I have no enemies, Mr Dubs.¡± She paused and frowned. ¡°Other than Charles Tilley.¡±


    [Do I need to kill him?]


    Her expression softened, and she sat to place the laptop back in front of her. ¡°Perhaps I¡¯ll give you the exposition on a day where offering murder isn¡¯t your primary response. I appreciate it though, Mr Dubs.¡±


    That might be a while then. While some of my edges were softening, part of me felt that just made me more aerodynamic. A nuclear bomb. The sharp edges had been cutting away at any resistance until I could hit¡­ hmm, I was beginning to believe there was an end target. A conclusion to my existence.


    At her signal, I fought the dummies. I feigned loading shells and pushing the trigger, intertwining use of my gun-arm between striking and blocking the static arms. Twisting between each of the four, I found myself focusing more on my footwork to ensure I kept in range between each imagined kill move. Clara didn¡¯t interject at any point, and any quick glance I gave her, she was just focused on her laptop.


    Eventually, I slowed. Clicked the trigger to blow the brains of the last of my imagined opponents, and then lowered my shotgun to catch my breath back.


    ¡°Amazing, Mr Dubs. If you could just give me a heroic pose real quick?¡±


    I straightened up and puffed out my chest while putting my hand on my hip. Hadn¡¯t gone too hard with my healing arm - and wasn¡¯t allowed to use the gauntlet. Somehow the weapon had gone undamaged from Roxy¡¯s kick, but it was the metal plates absorbing the strike that had determined the points where my arm broke. Without it, I probably would have only had the one snap, although it would have been even worse than the several smaller fractures.


    ¡°Perfect. Even has your sweat glistening in the sunshine. Rockslide is woefully unprepared for this masterpiece, Mr Dubs.¡±


    [You got some good data, too?]


    She gestured me over with her finger, and I went to sit beside her. Clara turned the laptop screen toward me and hit a key.


    A green wireframe version of myself went through the motions. Text and numbers ran up and down the side of the screen, occasional blocks of it turning yellow or flashing red before returning to green. She pressed a key and the four stationary targets were replaced by eight, and the text turned light blue as the stick-Dubs then went to fight the additional dummies as well.


    [You can simulate my fighting capabilities now, against any number of dummies?]


    ¡°Not just against dummies, Mr Dubs.¡± She pressed a sequence of keys on the laptop and the eight stationary targets vanished to be replaced by another wireframe figure. The fact that this one was colored orange instead of green made it clear who it was meant to represent.


    I watched as the orange one struck the green one, who subsequently exploded.


    [Statistical chance of me beating Roxy next time?]


    ¡°Depends on how serious she fights, Mr Dubs. I have calculated your chances as 20% success if she still has reservations¡­ if she goes all out, then we¡¯re talking low single digits. However, the chance of your accidental death goes up dramatically in that instance.¡±


    [How annoyed will she be if I win again?]


    Clara closed down the simulation and took her laptop back, folding the screen down. ¡°As much as I like to wind her up, I will be coaching her to ensure she wins. This is the only circumstance where I could accept you losing, Mr Dubs.¡±


    I nodded, but wasn¡¯t too sure how viable such a thing could be. Not the duel with Roxy - but just in general. I was bound to get injured tonight, and my contracts were only getting more dangerous. A soft kill-switch as Boss tried to retire me into the ground, I was sure. Would only take a misstep for a wound to become something more fatal, and super soldier or not - I was still human. Needed to tilt the scales in my favor more, now that I had been graced with allies.


    [Are you able to¡­ get information on the League¡¯s villain database?]


    The techie stood and started to pluck the sensors from my body, putting them back in the small case. ¡°Any search on said database is logged, if certain villains were to turn up as bloody piles straight after being looked into¡­¡±


    [Understood.]


    ¡°However¡­¡± She gave me a wry grin as she double-checked me for any missing pads. ¡°The database has both a local and remote backup daily and weekly. If I syphoned off a copy of the weekly distribution, then I could self-host an air-gapped version that would be untracked - at the cost of being slightly out of date.¡±


    [That sounds risky.]


    ¡°Are you the only one allowed to take risks, Mr Dubs? My primary interview with Mr Jarl is in three days. My heart is already on the line - what else could I lose?¡± She clipped the case closed and put her laptop on top of it. ¡°Go get your clothes back on, and we¡¯ll head into the city.¡±


    I nodded, and we briefly parted ways. Some irony in me getting the gang-affiliation scrubbed from my motorbike right before going and killing off some of said gang. Wasn¡¯t much I knew about the rest of the Five Eyes other than¡­ oh, now it came back to me.


    The reason the wizard had shown up here was because Roxy had jailed one of their other villains¡­ a cyclops if memory served me right. The other three I hadn¡¯t heard of, but going against multiple supers was a force multiplier. I¡¯d have to hope I could pick one or two off on their own, otherwise I¡¯d find myself hard pressed. Probably into a shallow grave.


    Another cog clicked into place as I remembered Roxy saying there had been a jail break yesterday. Seemed too convenient to not be the Five Eyes gang member, so I should prepare to face four tonight - plus any henchmen.


    Fully suited up, I brought the bike back into life and rolled it out in front, to the road leading to the city. Clara pulled up next to me in her van and chucked me something from the open window. Another chilled canister.


    Had only known this woman for a couple of days, but was pretty certain I would kill or die for her.


    Perhaps not such a strong statement given my usual disregard for my own safety and the laws against vigilante work.


    I led the way into the city, Clara following behind. Something about the super suit made me feel¡­ more authentic. Technically, I was close to being an official sidekick - so I had every right being out and overtly in public during the daytime. Still got looks for my cybernetic modifications, but that was only natural. Turns out that lurking away in the miserable shadows had been pretty dismal for my self-confidence. Now I felt¡­ real.


    Pulled into a side alley, where a run-down repair shop looked to be on its last legs. A portly man in greased overalls turned his gaze away from the newspaper in his gloved hands to look at me. Expression soured as soon as he clocked the bike.


    [Terrible day for rain, friend.]


    An eyebrow raised, and he gave me a knowing nod. ¡°Fuckin¡¯ ¡®ate rain,¡± he grumbled, and gestured to the open space in the garage.


    I moved the bike inside and dismounted, the man over by me holding up a digital invoice. No itemization, fifteen grand. A steeper cost than expected, but scrubbing crime away out of the prying eyes of the cops and League lined the pockets of those willing to risk it rather well. I should know.


    Paid and left, the shuttered door descending and closing off the shop just as soon as I was back on the sidewalk. That put a dent in today¡¯s earnings, but at least would prevent me getting jumped by random gangs every time I graced the city. Just to be certain we hadn''t caught that kind of attention already, I checked both directions on the street before getting into the passenger side of Clara¡¯s van.


    She plopped the Public Defender catalogue back on my lap. ¡°Get me an order ready, Mr Dubs, and then you should get some more sleep before tonight. Maybe a nice bubble bath and nap in the spare room?¡±


    [That feels like I¡¯d be taking advantage.]


    ¡°Ask Rockslide first. I¡¯m sure she¡¯s been at the edge of her chair awaiting a message from you, Mr Dubs.¡± She gave me a soft smile and started the van up. She was back in her slate gray overalls, a slim tool belt around her waist.


    //Dubs: Roxy, do you mind if I borrow your bath?


    //Roxy: Go for it. How¡¯s your arm? x


    //Dubs: Weak, but functional.


    //Roxy: Get enough rest for later? x


    //Dubs: Barely. I¡¯m only awake as Clara might start taking me apart if I slept any longer.


    //Roxy: She been working you hard? x


    //Dubs: Nothing I can¡¯t handle¡­ although I was also going to ask if I could nap in your spare room?


    //Roxy: Of course. No need to ask - although warning me is a good idea.


    //Roxy: I won¡¯t be back until late, but make yourself at home x


    Might not see her until the morning, then - assuming I survived the night. Shame. Not that I had any plans to die, but now I had the extra pressure of trying to avoid upsetting or letting down these two.


    [I have been given her blessing.]


    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯d like to give you more than that, Mr Dubs.¡± Clara maintained a neutral stare out the windshield as we turned a corner. ¡°Our dutiful watcher will be on shift in a handful of minutes. You will receive a notification on your lense when it is unsafe to be loose with your tongue.¡±


    [Just how far have you been prodding into my tech, Clara?]


    ¡°Balls deep, Mr Dubs.¡± She shot me a glance. ¡°I have very few passions or desires in life, but I give my all to the things that matters. Your consent is important, so please tell me if I ever overstep a boundary. There¡¯s just so much potential¡­¡±


    [I trust you, Clara. You just want to¡­]


    My sentence tapered off as a red dot appeared on my lense. Eyes on us. The first part of what I said was all that was important, anyway. Her upgrades would turn me into a more efficient killer. I was also confident that she wanted to make sure I came back in one piece for Roxy.


    //Clara: Send me the details of your contract.


    I gave her a glance before settling in to picking out things from the catalogue for my first order through her. After surviving tonight, I¡¯d put something in with Hal too. Sharing my mission with the techie was a large step in our current relationship. Roxy kept far away from it, seeing as she was a hero with the League. Clara was willing to risk the organization hitting us with the stick to offer me the carrot of knowledge in regards to gaining some advantage over my targets.


    As the city faded away, and the bloom of the wastes filled the front of the van, I found I was willing to take the risk as well. Something about the setup felt right, like¡­


    A twinge in my head knocked that thought away. I was starting to believe a pain in my skull signaled some of my old life trying to claw back in. Didn¡¯t make it easier to understand what it was trying to recall, and I was too exhausted to jump to conclusions. Wouldn''t want to break any legs.


    Roxy¡¯s house rolled into view, and the thought of a real bed relaxed my tense muscles. But even if it was a magical experience, I still wouldn¡¯t be top form for my contract later.


    My condition didn''t matter. There were no sick days in my line of work. Just the constant hunger to struggle and win out.


    Tonight I would kill through a group of supervillains, and earn my fill.

 41 - With Eyes Ablaze

    I lowered the binoculars down from my eyes and clipped them to my belt. As much as the darkness and night usually sharpened the willpower that I needed to do my work, I currently felt a little off.


    Bubble bath was pleasant, but paired with a soft bed, I had found divinity. At first the neutral decor had been pleasant but uncomfortable, but as soon as Clara woke me due to it being dusk, I regretted having to leave that spare room. Clean silken sheets, plush pillows, the way in which the mattress both absorbed and supported my body. Maybe tomorrow I could find the grit to ask Roxy if I could stay again.


    Clara had been uncharacteristically nervous about my departure. Gave back the gauntlet, but warned me not to overuse it. Sent me away with a brief hug and a file containing information about the rest of the Five Eyes gang. Warned me that she would be mad if I damaged my cyborg parts, and twice as mad if I made a mess of my fleshy parts - on Roxy¡¯s behalf, no doubt.


    I would have to admit it was easier to do my job when I didn¡¯t have such connections. Injury or death was always on the cards, but it didn¡¯t matter because my options were further contracts or eternal peace. Now that I had people that I was close to, it made the prospect of turning up broken and bloodied less fair on us all.


    Of course, there was always the option of playing this safe.


    Contract was to kill at least one villain, and the item pickup from Boss had four more Sanguine stakes - putting me at five. The techie had dropped me back in the city on the way to her home, and I¡¯d reclaimed my bike. Repainted a glossy dark green that matched my super suit, with some of the trimming and detailing reworked to look more stock.


    It sat patiently on the street in darkness, waiting to carry my beaten body back - and if I jumped in to kill just the one Five Eyes member before leaving, then it might make the event simple and grind me down less.


    That said, I wanted the money. The three of us had expensive tastes. Clara needed tuition. Roxy desired to break away from the League to start her own group. I could do with having a mouth, I supposed. The technician¡¯s one felt the most feasible at the current stage, and it would take a lot of contracts before I could hit any of the other goals.


    Still, shouldn¡¯t count my chickens.


    My brief reconnaissance complete, I left the fire escape stairs from the block over from my target. Clara had offered her drone and services, but I declined. It was a slippery slope, and I didn¡¯t want either of them involved with my work. Neither the League nor Boss would be too pleased, and it would only put them in the firing line.


    The hideout for the Five Eyes was a trio of buildings next to each other. On the left at the end of that street was an indoor car park. Three stories at least, and most likely a basement floor or two. Beside it was a used car dealership - most of the windows dull or covered up, signaling it was probably closed long term, not just for the night. Finally, on the right, was a set of office blocks. A decent split of lights on and off.


    I had watched noisy motorbikes swirl around the ramps of the car park, descending floors before the muffled sound stopped. Couldn¡¯t tell if it was one of the four or just some henchmen, but I leaned towards the latter being most likely.


    Drum mag full of normal shot. Ten-mag with Tazer. Ten-mag with Incendiary. Bandoliers with miscellaneous. Gauntlet. Three Sanguine stakes in the sideloader.


    Added a few magazines to my Public Defender shopping list, as well as a better belt for holding them. I spent a lot of time looking over H-harnesses and battle plates - just the sight of them caused my brain to ooze unshaped memories - but decided to play it simple for now.


    I looked up, thinking I had seen something¡­ but no. Just tall buildings and the night sky. Was quiet around here, most civilians asleep - although a couple structures looked condemned.


    Boots took me across the street and over to the car park. It had the least amount of barriers to entry that I could see. The sooner I could get into their den without violence, the more of an advantage I would have. Best place to find any undesirables would be underground.


    Rather than go around the building to find the entrance - which may be guarded, I hopped up some discarded trash. The chain-link fence behind shuddered as I stepped on it - before my hand grabbed at the slanted opening of the first ramp. With the boost from my footing, I pulled myself over and dropped to the dark concrete on the other side. A little higher up than anticipated, but a roll absorbed any shock.


    Back up to my feet, I looked down into the grim gloom of the floor just below.


    And two orbs of crimson stared straight back at me.


    ¡°Seems you took a wrong turn, ser superhero,¡± a voice hissed out.


    The owner of said voice became illuminated by dull light, as the caged bulbs on the car park walls slowly came to life. A handful of henchmen stood around a hunched figure of black leather and dark brown fur. Pointed face, wide ears, a healthy amount of disdain behind a sharp-toothed snarl. Behind him, a long tail lashed back and forth in annoyance.


    Gregor. The Five Eyes'' agility and stealth villain. A ratman with sticky fingers who wasn¡¯t opposed to assassinating the competition - allegedly, of course. Threat Level 46.


    [Oh. I¡¯m not a superhero, but I have some information for you.]


    The ratman ran his tongue across his sharp teeth before crossing his arms. ¡°Heavily armed for an informant. What information does ser have to give me?¡±


    I was currently undecided on whether leaving my vocalizer on was a good idea or not. I¡¯d broken one of my cardinal rules and wasn¡¯t sure how long I could keep this charade up. While Gregor hadn¡¯t drawn the firearm from his side, the goons he was with each had a weapon in hand, ready to light me up.


    [That depends on whether or not you know who killed Barthelemy already.]


    His eyes immediately narrowed, and teeth bared. ¡°You¡¯d better come with us then. Ser Grugg will want to hear this personally.¡± Gregor gestured to his henchmen before his whiskers twitched. ¡°And you¡¯d better not be lying, otherwise you are dead.¡±


    Grugg was the de facto leader of the gang. Not especially bright, but as a ten-foot tall cyclops and strength villain, he often got what he wanted one way or another. Clara¡¯s report said he and the wizard were quite close, which was probably why the latter foolishly sought revenge against Roxy after she arrested the former.


    I nodded and followed the ratman as his group formed a loose circle around me. As much as I liked being led to the bigger cheese, taking on more than one villain at once was a tough sell.


    We stopped by some worn metal doors that I assumed led into the lower showroom of the next building.


    ¡°It be best if ser informant unloads his gun before we proceed¡­¡± The long tail of the ratman waved back and forth before he turned to me. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want to have any accidents, would we?¡±


    [Of course.]


    Drum mag ejected, and I clipped it onto my belt. Turned the gun-arm at an angle and opened the chamber to ping out the unspent shell, allowing it to bounce across the dirty concrete floor. Furrowed my brow at the chamber, still open.


    [Apologies. Sometimes the tech gets stuck.]


    ¡°I understand.¡± Gregor rolled his red eyes. ¡°One of our own has such parts and they are always having issues.¡±


    My hand opened and closed in faux frustration, before I relented to striking the chamber. One, two, and then with a third it snapped back shut.


    [It is a wonder I have not lost a finger to it yet.]


    He didn¡¯t respond, but with a nod to one of his henchmen, the doors opened up.


    A wide open space beyond, a floor that was probably soft off-white marble at one point, but now was filthy with the telltale streaks of rubber and spilled oil. There were a couple of slightly raised podiums where cars would sit, but they were devoid of anything but loose debris and cigarette ends. Right side of the long room would have been wide ceiling to floor windows opening out to the street - but now had been all but covered with pasted posters and newspaper.


    ¡°We¡¯ll go up to the next floor,¡± Gregor decided for us, arranging his troupe to go toward the cluttered staircase on the left.


    I followed, but could hear the tinny shaking of an alarm bell in the back of my mind. Could just be a quicker route to the cyclops, but I had a feeling it wasn¡¯t that simple.


    Around and then we were on the next floor up. A similar layout once more, although this one did have a few vehicles on the raised areas. Aged, and they had been stripped for parts. Graffiti lined the various pillars at the edges of the room, and some of the city at night could be seen between the more haphazardly placed coverings.


    Gregor led us to the left, flanked by two henchmen as we walked though the center of the room to double doors at the far end.


    And then, as we were roughly in the middle, he stopped. As did all the goons around us.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Impressive sleight of hand, ser robot. You didn¡¯t think I¡¯d notice a shell missing from your bandolier, however?¡±


    [That was the hope.]


    Gregor turned to face me, a scowl over his eyes. He pulled his firearm out - which I could now see was a high-caliber revolver - and clicked the hammer back ready. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯d best tell me what you¡¯re really doing here, before I change it to ¡®bleeding to death¡¯.¡±


    You could cut the sudden tension in the room with a knife - which was unfortunate as Roxy had broken mine. There had been a few melee options in Public Defender, but Clara had talked me out of them. Apparently, the gauntlet was trouble enough with how vulnerable my left arm was. She tried to sweeten the deal by saying the best weapons were the illegal ones, but I was pretty sure she was just trying to cheer me up.


    I lowered my arms and relaxed, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. A tough sell.


    [Perhaps I could tell you who killed the wizard now, and you can be enlightened.]


    His tail thrashed side to side, but he gestured with the revolver. ¡°Speak then. Maybe there¡¯s a way out of this for you.¡±


    [It was me.]


    Dense gray burst up around us as the Smoke shell I palmed from my bandolier into the ¡®stuck¡¯ chamber erupted from the dirtied marble floor.


    I dove to the side immediately, rolling through the fog as a couple of the henchmen fired. Pretty terrible idea when they were standing in a circle. Struck the knee of the closest one with my elbow as I stood back up - shoulder met his face as our respective elevations changed.


    Drum mag from my belt and back into the shotgun, as I turned to narrow my eyes at the last panicked muzzle flash. Gun-arm up, I hesitated as I felt the displacement of air behind me.


    ¡°Nice try,¡± the voice hissed.


    Sharp pain through the back of my left shoulder. I spun and lashed out, but just struck the smoke, creating a swirling wave. Dark shape loomed to my right, and I turned back and hit the trigger. Blew the head away from a henchman and I rolled away from the position. Another two bursts of submachine gun fire cracked through the space where they thought I was still standing.


    Empty bullet casings struck the grubby marble, rattling about before there was silence. I exhaled and closed my eyes. Still in a crouched position, I placed my left hand on the floor. Waited.


    There it was.


    Felt that presence behind me again and launched backward with both legs, assisted by the V-Force boosted in the gauntlet. Brief pain in my back before I collided with the figure. We tumbled back across the floor, and he tried scrabbling away. He certainly was quick.


    I reached out and managed to grab hold of a furred ankle - his left leg. A flick of silver barely missed my face as the hook-ended blade held by his tail instead dug inside my arm that was holding him in place. My grip tightened despite the pain, as the barrel of my gun-arm went up into the back of his knee and fired.


    Warmth soaked my forearm as the blade had punctured my super suit and twisted in the wound, scooping a small chunk of flesh out.


    I had been ignoring the notifications of damage received so far, but I realized something even worse about the situation.


    Clara would be getting the same updates.


    Shell ejected out as I loaded in a new shot, my hand releasing the villain with an inert leg so that he couldn''t continue to shred through my skin. That should slow him down, at least. Pain radiating up and down my arm, I pushed myself back up to my feet. Smoke was starting to dissipate, and the shadowed figures were coming into view. None of them a hunched and limping ratman, but all obstacles.


    ¡°There he is, he¡¯s still-ah!¡±


    First one took the flat of my gun-arm before I turned and shot the second. Used the limp former henchman as a human shield, a burst of light rounds pulsing through his sweat-soaked leather and dark linens. Racked another shot and finished that henchman off. Glared around but saw nobody else, so discarded the held goon.


    Two of them had been taken out in the crossfire when the smoke had first gone out, and I-


    Loud bang and sudden vertigo washed over me. Clasped my hand to the back of my head and felt warm mush run through it. My brains? No, just loose skin and blood.


    ¡°Why won¡¯t you die?¡±


    I twisted as the cylinder on the heavy duty revolver clicked around, a vibration running down my gun-arm as I managed to deflect the second shot. My return fire blew a chunk of masonry from the far pillar as he dropped and rolled to the side. Impressive reactions.


    Gregor growled out in pain as his bad leg twisted and slipped on the pooled blood smearing across the marble. It caused him to fire prematurely, the high-caliber bullet blowing a plume of dust from the ceiling a few feet away from me.


    As I leaped at him, I lashed out with my muzzle, catching his gun and knocking it from his hand. Flattening him as we collided, I used my shotgun to pin one of his arms down while my hand grabbed at his throat. Tail wrapped around my leg as the blade buried deep into my right calf.


    I choked him, and at first his one free hand came up to do the same to me. Claws scrabbled at my cybernetic neck before he realized there was nothing to gain. He gripped at my gauntleted arm, but his nails couldn¡¯t pierce my suit, let alone the plate. Unable to move or use his powers of agility, my strength slowly won out.


    [Say hello to the wizard for me.]


    Left hand released his neck to grab his woozy head. Lifted it to smack against the solid floor. Again, up and cracked down. Third time I activated the boosters and felt his skull split in my grip. Tail went lax as his eyes lost focus.


    Panting, I pushed myself off of him, having to pull the hooked blade from my leg. Stood and stretched myself out, before putting a shell through his broken skull. I would take no chances with supers. Super villains.


    Stepped over to the side, thankful for the wave of stims that helped numb the deep gouges his knife had dug. Leaned over to retrieve the revolver. Flicked the cylinder open. Three shots left. Flicked it closed. I wasn¡¯t about to dig around for more, considering it would be a struggle to reload - but it might be handy to keep it ready.


    I looked around the room. Smoke all but gone now, just painting the long room with a slight haze of gray. Bodies littering the floor, leaking blood all over the place. One villain killed and twenty-five thousand credits richer.


    For what it was worth, I could leave the building, and that would be it. Contract complete.


    I rolled my head around on my neck. Still needed to sleep off some of the withdrawal, but I¡¯d managed to postpone it. Like a lot of things.


    //Dubs: Roxy.


    //Roxy: ARE YOU OKAY


    //Dubs: Always. I just wanted to say¡­


    //Dubs: No, nevermind.


    //Roxy: You fucker! Tell me!


    //Roxy: You¡¯re not about to die, are you¡­?


    Checked the chamber. Normal shot in place. Hadn¡¯t needed to use a stake on the ratman, but he was only a weak speed super. There were two that were more resilient, so I¡¯d be more generous when they showed up.


    Oh, yeah. It was already clear that I was going for the full sweep. Barely a question, really.


    //Dubs: Not today. Just wanted to make sure you¡¯re training.


    //Dubs: Because I¡¯m going to give you everything I have.


    //Dubs: In the fight.


    //Roxy: I¡¯ll be ready. You¡¯ll be barfing out your internal organs once I¡¯m done with you.


    //Dubs: Brilliant. Can¡¯t wait to ask you out on a date after that.


    //Roxy: ¡­


    //Dubs: Don¡¯t wait up.


    She would wait up. Especially if she had any contact with Clara, who had an idea about how injured I was getting. Had almost asked her out on a date right then and there, but she still had to win our duel. Would be unfair for both of us for me to get soppy every time I had a contract and might die. Not that I even knew where we¡¯d go or what we would do on a date. Hold hands, maybe.


    Any further amusing thoughts washed away with the cool tide of approaching footsteps. A group, coming down the stairs from a floor two above.


    I went and hid behind the rusting ruins of one of the display vehicles.


    ¡°¡­gunshots. Assholes better not be doing target practice indoors again.¡±


    Female voice, so it wasn¡¯t the cyclops. Five Eyes had two women on the roster, and I was keen to fight neither, based on the information Clara had provided me. Started to wonder how I had gone from chewing through criminals to being pitted against those with super powers.


    The excitement within my core, despite the trepidation, told me I probably knew the answer already.


    I peered out through the broken windows of the vehicle as the footsteps rounded down to this floor.


    ¡°Oh, shit.¡±


    A figure stepped into view. Curled red hair, tall and slim, wearing a long dress. Dark gray and black, with a wide fabric belt of crimson. This was Needlepoint. Real name, Claudia. Minor telekinetic villain.


    ¡°Go tell Grugg, and you two start rounding up everyone else. We may be under siege.¡±


    The henchmen grunted acknowledgements, a pair going down the stairs and the other returning up. Only a couple remained with her, and they set about checking the bodies and the door on that side of the room.


    I held my breath and watched the villain as she stepped over to the corpse of the ratman.


    ¡°Gregor, you sinister shitstain. How could it end like this? Who would do something like this?¡±


    Boot took me a step out, and I allowed the flash of Overcharge to answer her question. Sideloaded Sanguine stake rocketed through the air. An early end to this would be¡­


    But there was no spurt of blood or knock back from the attack. Instead, the woman turned to face me, her green eyes alight with fury. The metal stake hovered in the air about a foot away from her before dropping to the marbled floor.


    ¡°Looks like I¡¯ll be able to deal with the problem myself,¡± she hissed.


    Her hands raised up and out from her tall boots, two thin blades rose. Foot-long ice picks that twirled and readied themselves toward me as she controlled them with her mind.


    I rolled back behind the decaying vehicle. Hadn¡¯t caught her Threat Level yet, but her telekinetic powers were stronger than I had been expecting. Looked like a defensive aura, but perhaps it worked mostly against metal projectiles? Not exactly ideal to have to fuck around and find out.


    One of her needles sent out sparks as it scraped along the hood of the car. The second emerged from the side of the door about three inches from me, having no issue piercing through the rusted metal of the entire vehicle. Shotgun chamber clacked back and forth, but this wasn¡¯t a good position to be in.


    There was a doorway behind me, presumably leading to the office block. About thirty feet from my current position, with no immediate cover. Being out in the open was a quick way to become a bleeding pincushion, but I was gaining no advantage in staying put. Given that she was intent on killing me and would chase me down, going all out aggressive in a less than optimal battleground was a needless amount of danger for myself. Oh, how I¡¯d changed.


    I watched the blades stop their trajectory about a dozen feet away from me in the air, before they turned around, intending on making a return journey. Footsteps from the side of the room moved closer - the two armed guards she had with her. I moved as soon as her blades did.


    Dived out from my cover and slid along the floor. Shotgun blast took out the closest guard as the needles traveled through the side of of the vehicle where I had been hiding. To accompany the spray of blood painting the back wall, the revolver in my left hand fired. Inaccurate, but it struck the second guard in the thigh, puncturing an artery.


    Empty shell clattered along the filthy marble as I scrambled back to my feet. Turned and took myself toward the door.


    ¡°You can¡¯t run from me, asshole!¡±


    Slid and spun to face her again. First needle bounced from my cyborg shoulder, the second one ran through the side of my stomach, emerging out through my back. No point firing back in return just yet, as she was keeping at range. Back up to my feet and I backpedaled, the twin blades hovering around me instead of returning for another charge.


    Twisted and deflected one with my gun, while the other skewered through my lower leg.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t kill you. I¡¯ll keep you breathing, so that Grugg can deal with you.¡± A wry grin crossed her pale face.


    Threat Level 52.


    The blades danced and twirled around me, just begging me to make the next move. Ready to slice and pierce me for the folly. Shouldn¡¯t play with your food, though.


    I took my chance.


    Fired toward the villain, and the shrapnel didn¡¯t quite meet her - both the distance and her shielding stopped the fragments before they could do any damage. The distraction and split focus of her ability had the blades lagging enough to where my sprint went mostly uncontested.


    She recovered and sent the sharp metal toward me once more. Back of my right leg. Second deflected off of my gauntlet. Just a few steps away from the metal double doors now. Shot went through the handle area, hoping to weaken any lock. Surprise on my face to see powdered masonry puff through the holes in the metal.


    I slammed into them, realizing at the last second that the doorway beyond had been bricked up.


    Turned just in time to see the needle tip crack through my left lense.

 42 - The Answer

    Blood and sweat ran down my face, the heat of my stims joining the exerted efforts of my muscles that were just trying to prevent me from dying. A battle hard fought, a war not quite won yet. Multiple super villains in one night. What had I been thinking?


    Money was just the convenient excuse. Ego was a shade closer to the truth. Some latent calling that I felt in my soul was perhaps as honest as my murky memories allowed me to be, despite that sounding way too abstract.


    My left hand shook. The hiss of the struggling V-Force boosters threatened to give out at any time. Somehow, my grip held.


    The first needle of the villain was now about an inch from my eye, having pierced through my lense I can only assume I had some form of guardian angel blessing me to have been able to grab it right before it punctured and destroyed my sight. An innate reflex that might only be delaying the inevitable.


    While I focused on not having my brain skewered, the second needle had come up into my side at an angle. The thin, cylindrical blade rotated in place slowly and gradually pushed its way in through my organs. Aiming for my heart, if I allowed it.


    ¡°Resilient but foolhardy,¡± Clauda said, shaking her head. ¡°Egotistical to think you could fight us with no superpowers.¡±


    [Fuck superpowers]


    The phrase ejected from my vocalizer with as much venom as it could muster. A slip of the tongue, but I was under a lot of pressure.


    ¡°Terrible last words. Care to try again?¡±


    I felt both blades creep toward me, the pressure of her force extending that little bit more. Wasn¡¯t that good at one-liners yet. Would things have been much different if I had disconnected my vocalizer at the start? Didn¡¯t really matter now. Notifications in my right lense were warning me of blood loss and damage to my internal organs. Too risky to stay put and test if my intuition had been correct.


    The only thing I could do was gamble with my life. On the one shell I had loaded from my bandolier, hoping that I hadn¡¯t read the situation wrong.


    For the second time, I answered her spoken question with the pull of my trigger.


    Her hands went up and focus withdrew momentarily, as she brought the shielding in to stop the shrapnel. The surprise on her face gave me hope that I had been correct.


    As I hadn¡¯t shot anything metallic at her.


    Rubber shot bypassed whatever she was trying to accomplish, striking her clean on the arm and snapping the bone. I pulled the needle away from my face as she growled in pain and clutched at the wound. Stepped away from the second as it fell from my side, spatters of blood trailing on the floor as it clattered with a high pitch.


    Strode towards her, feeling a little light-headed. Overcharge spooled up in my gun-arm.


    Her eyes burned with anger as she looked back at me and walked backwards, arm hanging limp as the useful hand went to bring up the discarded needle.


    It buried into my back as I approached, before pulling away and going for my head. Panic in her eyes as I didn¡¯t stop, even as it cut across the side of my face. Nerves had severed both her accuracy and strength with the weapon. She stumbled as her foot caught on one of the corpses I had decorated the place with - but it was okay, as I caught her.


    Muzzle up to her neck.


    [Return to sender.]


    Shotgun V-Force drive fired the other needle that I had stuffed down the barrel, piercing through her throat and out the top of her skull. I dropped her body and racked a normal shell. Double-tapped.


    I allowed myself a few deep breaths before deciding that was a pretty terrible one-liner. I should cease the idea of doing them. Better than ¡®ricochet this¡¯, however - but there were no prizes to be won here. Other than the bounties for the murders.


    Went and retrieved both the discarded revolver and the unsullied Sanguine stake.


    Wavered slightly and hoped my stims would catch up. Bleeding both external and internal should seal up within a handful of minutes. Could I avoid danger for that long?


    Two down, two to go. As luck would have it, the ones still breathing were the tougher of the gang. How well did I fancy my chances? I¡¯d win or die trying, for certain. Unclipped the drum mag and put the Incendiary shot in.


    Now, where would they be hiding? This level had no way to the offices, and if my memory was correct¡­ the ones who went upstairs were going to the cyclops. I furrowed my brow. Or was that down? And the ones going up were rallying the gang?


    Having only one lense in my goggles was awkward, but perhaps the blood loss was the true contributor to my¡­ uh¡­ my sluggish thoughts. Yeah, that was it.


    Up it was.


    Sharp pains up both of my legs as I ascended each dirtied step. My one round of cardio the other day somehow not making me a marathon machine of fitness. Unforgivable. Barely worth the effort.


    Palmed the back of my head to double check my gray matter wasn¡¯t leaking. More of a deep gouge than a graze. I was pretty sure I could touch my unbroken skull through the hair matted with blood and shredded skin that was trying to heal shut. Twice I had come an inch close to death this evening, and yet I persisted.


    Even if Clara was watching the damage rack up, it seemed less likely that she was cluing Roxy in. While the super had always been oddly respectful of my work, I wasn¡¯t sure she could sit idle watching my life spiraling the drain.


    Not to mention the face she would pull, knowing I was killing off the gang she had arrested the leader of. Couldn¡¯t wait to hear her side of the prison break story the League had given her. Or how they felt about the whole gang turning up dead.


    I tapped at my stim pack as I hit the next floor. Still doing fine. The fighting had been brief, but incredibly exhausting. Even the durable suit hadn¡¯t held up too well against the bladed attacks of the super villains. If the League weren¡¯t already clued in on what I was, then they might raise an eyebrow at a sidekick who ruins a handful of super suits in as many days.


    Just how much did they know, though?


    Top floor had a similar arrangement to the two below, except the windows here were barely covered. The city looked calm. Serene almost - compared to what was going on in here. A dozen or so motorbikes were parked in loose rows on both sides. Parts and metal cabinets in places. Somewhere where they did repairs, perhaps - a doorway to the right leading to the car park looked as though they had built it themselves.


    Far left had doors to the office block, which seemed to be my destination. Drawn to it.


    Left arm ached like crazy. After being told that I shouldn¡¯t use my gauntlet much until my bones had fully recovered, I had burned the drives out to save myself from sporting a foot of metal from my eye socket. A re-broken arm seemed preferable to a perforated brain.


    Almost tripped over several inches of the needle I had blown through the telekineticist''s head, the blade going halfway through to this floor. Took myself slowly between the rows of bikes. Smaller than mine by a few degrees - but all in the process of being painted purple or having the gang¡¯s logo placed on them. An eye with five swords behind it.


    I didn¡¯t know what the villains got up to, to make them wanted criminals. This gave me a slight pause. League was keen to tar and feather anyone who didn¡¯t play by their rules, so how terrible was this group, really? Some of the things Roxy had said to me would get her disgraced and labeled a villain. So, was I just kicking sand in the faces of my equals?


    Gross. This is why hadn¡¯t questioned things too intently before. Objective didn¡¯t change no matter the scrutiny I gave the contract. Even if I called it quits now, I would be tracked down by the remnants of the gang - I¡¯d not rest safe. Had to tidy up all loose ends.


    Stopped in place at the sound of footsteps. Ahead of me from the offices. I was starting to think I had my directions mixed up.


    Doors flung open to reveal a gathered group of henchmen. Shotgun lit them up immediately, some of their clothing and scenery beyond the opening catching alight from the Incendiary shrapnel. Before they had the chance to prepare, I was already there in melee with them.


    Point blank revolver shot to the head of the first who was trying to cover his eyes from the scorch marks of my instigating blast. Elbow to push the next one back into his companions as empty shell ejected into the air - a second fire blast loading in ready. Gauntlet deflected the swing of a hand-axe as I thumbed at the hammer of the revolver, drawing it back.


    A violent dance that echoed my training against the dummies. They couldn¡¯t fall back to use their firearms due to my close proximity in this thinner corridor, so had switched to melee options. My shotgun had no such qualms, and I fired with reckless abandon. Each hit shredding through flesh and drawing long streaks of charred terrain across the walls and ceiling.


    I moved like a cyclone, each strike or blast smooth and calculated. Stopped in place, as there was no further resistance.


    Flames licked at the hallway of bodies, the walls blackened and warm. Last henchman was busy throwing up blood, but I interrupted to lift him up and press him against the wall.


    [Where is your leader?]


    ¡°Eat shit,¡± he spluttered in return, blood still running from his mouth.


    [I do not have a mouth. Perhaps you¡¯d like to show me how?]


    Pressed the muzzle of the shotgun against his stomach. I had actually used all my Incendiary shot, but didn¡¯t have enough hands to reload anything. The threat was enough.


    ¡°Car park basement,¡± he said, trepidation in his voice. ¡°Grugg will tear you apart, so it doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    [And what of you? Has your loyalty kept you safe?]


    His tongue caught in his mouth, unable to vomit out a concise response - although that could just be from the internal bleeding. I dropped him and gave him a knee to the stomach. He keeled over, spluttering once more as I switched mags back to the drum. Would need to walk all the way back to the start now, which seemed unfair.


    Left the goon to continue retching. I tried not to humanize them, as it would make the job difficult. Didn¡¯t pick up on their differing features, emotion behind their eyes, or cared to listen to the sob stories. It went unsaid that they might not all be evil criminals, but I never considered myself good or just either. We all suffered for our choices in one way or another.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Like how I was pretty sure Roxy would half kill me soon, just so that we could court properly. Was that even a thing? Once again, I struggled to believe I was in such a situation.


    Stepped over the corpses on the way back to the top floor of the showroom. Almost a shame to leave the revolver behind, but my left arm was already shaking and weak. A lot of exertion and injuries sustained, but I hadn¡¯t re-fractured it yet.


    I wondered if this place had any mint chocolate chip ice-cream I could steal.


    Out into the wider showroom. I stopped and turned my head to the side to look out into the city. Truly, I could never catch a break.


    Large windows burst and shattered inwards as a figure landed and slid across the mucky marble flooring, sparks flaring up from their feet. I allowed myself a long sigh as the last non-cyclopean villain stood up tall.


    Lady Peony Valoth. Part cyborg, part vampire, and positively out of my league when it came to combat abilities. Both her legs metallic, her feet pointed and sharp. She wore a business suit on her upper half, something drab with gothic flare to match her pale skin and wide-brimmed black hat. Eyes blazing bright scarlet, her hands clasped at an ornate longsword.


    She grimaced at me, exposing her fangs as her head tilted in a snarl. The quadrant of her face over her right eye was also cybernetic, but didn¡¯t seem to be replacing the orb itself. ¡°Tell me who sent you, and I¡¯ll make your death quick.¡± Her voice was eloquent, but dripped with her hatred for me.


    [You¡¯re the only one left to save your leader. Best to just kill me while you can.]


    ¡°You are bluffing¡­¡± Her eye unfocused, as if she was looking into something STAR-equivalent. ¡°How did you¡­ it was you who killed Barthelemy, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    [Irrelevant.]


    She adjusted her posture to something more relaxed but confident. ¡°We could do with someone like you on our roster. How likely are you to be bought out?¡±


    [Impossible.]


    ¡°You¡¯d rather die than change sides?¡± A sneer returned to her face. ¡°Just who do you think you are?¡±


    [Irredeemable.]


    I launched forward and fired off my shotgun. Didn¡¯t matter what she said, there was no chance I would be joining anyone else. Pay didn¡¯t matter. Workload didn¡¯t matter. Benefits didn¡¯t matter. I killed because I was a killer, and nothing would change that.


    Well, almost nothing.


    Her sword swiped through the air, blocking most of the shrapnel. Threat Level 65. I was really pushing myself to the limits of what I was capable of.


    I loved it.


    Boosters on her back lit her up and sent her toward me. I slid across the floor as her sword blew up dirt, scratching a groove through the marble. Spun around in place and slapped the chamber as she stepped past. Click of the trigger and the Tazer shot struck her right leg.


    Crimson electricity started to crackle around the body as she became further incensed, the blast of my own arcing blue not enough to stun such a strong villain - but it had damaged her leg. Low grade cybernetics. The leg had now stiffened up and wouldn¡¯t propel her forward to take advantage of my position.


    Shame she had those boosters to move her.


    Blade clashed against my gun-arm as I wielded it to block her swipes. Sparks and thrums radiated through the weapon. She didn¡¯t have the speed of the ratman, but she was clearly experienced with the sword. While I could brawl to a degree, it wouldn¡¯t be long before I¡¯d get caught out and take damage.


    Fired a normal shot into her from close range. Clothing shredded but¡­ hardly any actual harm to the villain. As an offensive-based all-rounder, she had enough strength and resilience to resist a lot of what I was able to put out. Perhaps I had found my limit and should have left after the second kill.


    Peony swung her sword around to strike me with the flat of the blade - and in blocking it, the force sent me sliding across the marble. Before I had a chance to adjust, her boosters sent her diving toward me, blade pointed out in a jab.


    Reminded me of Skyblade in a way, and although she had more finesse to her attacks, there were also the clear signs of her increased ferocity in how she didn¡¯t let up her assault.


    Crossed my arms to stop the sword skewering me and I was sent even further back, now stumbling into the office hallway. I fumbled for my bandolier, but my fingers felt numb. Hitting the point where the stims had done their best, but my body was just giving out. At my human limits.


    Like I would let that stop me.


    Chamber closed, and Overcharge whirred into life. The vampire had taken a moment to give her leg some percussive maintenance to get it working normally and for the most part, it-


    Vision blurred slightly as I stepped forward, left ear ringing. Turned my head to see the henchman who had been throwing up previously now holding a rifle, the telltale wisp of smoke still waving from the end. So much for my attempt at character growth. Gun-arm whipped round, and I blew the Rubber shot straight into his skull, the V-Force causing him to slam against the wall. Cracks form from the impact, signaling this area might not be so¡­


    I turned back and was struck by a wave of energy. Followed the goon''s path and slammed into the same wall, breaking through the thin wood and supports. Rolled to a crouch amongst the cloud of dust. Palmed at my neck. There was no stim pack.


    Empty port, the side of which had been dented by the henchman¡¯s shot, causing the pack to no longer fit and just eject somewhere back in the hallway.


    Not entirely convenient.


    Stood up on shaking legs as the woman ran to catch up to me. My chamber opened up, and I struggled to slap something new in. Ejected the drum mag, and then she was here.


    A spinning kick with her metal foot had me stumbling backward, deflected, but only just. The follow-up was a sweep of her sword, followed by another kick. Powdered plaster fell down around us, where her attacks cut into the structure. Peony darted back, ready to leap forth and skewer me through my lagging defenses.


    Clicked the trigger. Aim was slightly off, but the High Explosive Slug connected with her sword-arm, blowing a sizable chunk of her flesh away in a burst of crimson. Weapon bounced to the floor as she clasped at the injury, fresh anger in her eyes.


    Instead of chiding me with furious remarks, she launched forward, this time lashing out with claws that had grown from her offhand. Hot lines of crimson radiated from my chest before I could push her away, barely stopping her from digging through to bone through my muscles. Stepped aside, and she twisted to swing another kick at my head.


    Ducked, and I slapped in the other ten-mag. Barreled into her other leg while she recovered from her attack, but it didn¡¯t knock her to the floor. We tussled and spun before she grabbed and threw me with a surprising amount of force. I broke through the wall and into the next office, rolling across decrepit furniture and piles of debris. Turned and fired the first shot of Taser through the opening.


    Missed, as she wasn¡¯t there anymore.


    Pain flared in my left shoulder as she suddenly appeared and dug her fangs in.


    Swung for her as she hopped away, almost clear to the other side of the room. Delight spread across her face now, my own blood running down from her lips.


    ¡°An interesting taste to you, killer. More worthwhile than you look.¡±


    The clack of another Taser shell loading was my only response. Too tired to engage in conversation now. The aches of my condition started to crack at my psyche, the stims were no longer present and capable of turning this into a warm and numb experience.


    Blood had empowered her further, and paired with my slowing body, I almost didn¡¯t catch her movement toward me.


    An exchange of blows and I slammed into the wall again, air knocked from my lungs and a nasty gash across my left thigh. Re-breather whirred as I tried to draw oxygen back around my system.


    Lady Valoth held her left hand out, a coy smile across her face. Red light bloomed in her outstretched palm as she readied an attack. ¡°Perhaps you should have reconsidered going against someone of my power.¡±


    [You know how much your life is worth, despite your power?]


    Her smile turned into a sneer, her attack brightening, but she held out.


    [Twenty-five grand. Same as the rat and the needler. Power level means nothing, you¡¯re all a paycheck to me.]


    ¡°Disgusting.¡± She bared her fangs. ¡°Then let¡¯s see how useful that money is for you in hell.¡±


    She made her attack. A ball of energy flung towards me like a grenade. Funny thing was, I couldn¡¯t really move. Muscles were locking up to the pain and exertion. Without my stims, there would be a limited amount of time I could stay conscious. Perhaps this was my limit. My chance to rest finally.


    Red light washed over me before the flash of white blinded my eyes. A force that burned at my exposed skin and singed the edges of all the tears in my super suit. Vertigo and then a heavy thud as I landed somewhere.


    Adrenaline hit me, and I refocused. Managed to get up to my feet amongst a clutter of debris. Running on fumes, my skin aching and cracked. Clouds of plaster and dust filled the area, the hole in the ceiling evidence that I had been blasted to the floor below. A broken water pipe sprayed a dabbling of water down onto the dirtied carpet around me. I turned and limped my way out of the door, closing it behind me to collapse against the wall of the next room.


    ¡°Shame you have no real neck,¡± the voice came from the above floor. ¡°Would have loved to drain you dry for what you have done.¡±


    I focused on my breathing. Had to be quiet, yet save my energy. I pulled myself across the carpet, unable to stand. Almost wanted to sleep right there. Managed to push myself up against the opposite wall to sit. One last clack of my shotgun and then I was silent. Eyes closed, and I allowed all my aches and pains to relax and wash away. Peace.


    A thud from the room ahead as the villain landed. The crash of some debris kicked over to ensure I wasn¡¯t hiding away. Perhaps she¡¯d sense my blood, or decide I went through the door on this side of the office via process of elimination.


    I sat and felt a little sorry for myself.


    And then fired the Sanguine stake.


    Gentle thud, and then silence again. Muscles burning, I pushed myself back up to my feet. Paused as vertigo almost had me collapse back down. With exhaustion once again taking control of me, I shuffled my boots across the floor and pushed the door open.


    Peony was on her knees, both hands clutched to her stomach. Her eyes, now full of panic rather than fury, rose to see me. ¡°How?¡± She asked, her own blood now running from her mouth.


    I pointed my gun-arm at the water spraying down, as it loaded in another stake.


    [Your wide-brimmed hat stopped the water striking the carpet, so I was able to assume your positioning. I didn¡¯t account for your height, however.]


    ¡°A monster that hunts monsters.¡± She shook her head before coughing up a fresh handful of crimson. ¡°Best leave in haste. Once Grugg finds you, you¡¯re fucked.¡±


    Shotgun fired the second stake through her heart, and the vampire-cyborg tipped over. Black, white, and red. The whole talking thing was tugging at the small part of me that was trying to be a more moral and well-rounded individual. Could I have been an ally of the woman in a different life and setting? How about any of the villains here, or that I''d meet in the future?


    Either way, I was almost done here. Seventy-five thousand credits for a night¡¯s turmoil was a fair shake, even though I had considered the initial bag a little on the light side. The big one-hundred was sitting there on the sidelines, trying to get my attention, but maybe I had to be realistic for once.


    Maybe.


    Allowed myself a slow groan of exhaustion. My drum mag was back up a floor, and I was keen to get that back. Hobbled around the offices until I found the stairs up. Refreshed the sideloader with stakes along the way. Drum retrieved and on my belt. Light-headed. Most of my physical form now stiff and figuratively on fire with every movement.


    Made my way to the top of the showroom. Best bet might be to wheel one of these stacked bikes over to the car park doors and roll down the ramp until I can eject my body safely onto the street. Seemed like the best way of making a break without running into-


    ¡°Claudia? Gregor?¡±


    A loud voice echoed up from the floor below. Guttural and angry beyond compare.


    I eyed up the bikes intently. Any would do. Both arms shook as I selected my vehicle, while heavy footsteps vibrated through the structure. Barely managed to pull one away with my uncooperative limbs, three other half-built bikes falling over loudly to punish me for having some slight wedge of self-preservation in my mushy brain.


    Silence for a moment, my entire being frozen.


    The floor right beneath me shook, right before a large hand burst through, grabbing me by the leg.


    I was pulled and thrown to the floor amongst broken masonry and marble dust. Out of the cloud above me loomed a singular eye, bright blue and practically on fire with fury. The large form of the cyclops emerged from the obscuring particles and grabbed me, a quick jerk of his muscle sending me across into the side wall. Air knocked from my lungs again as I created a cracked dent in the thicker stone.


    Threat Level 87.


    Pretty fucked. I stumbled away from the position, arm up. Fired a Taser shot that he just shrugged off. Not only was he ten feet tall and just as wide, but there was an aura around him that exuded strength. Wide mouth contorted into a grimace at having found the person responsible for killing his gang members.


    I felt the rush of his response before I visually clocked it. Large club with a metal-tipped end. Couldn¡¯t even raise my arm in time.


    Brain struggled to keep me conscious as I slammed into one of the rusted vehicles on display, bucking the metal as I embedded into the side of it. Notifications screamed about broken ribs and split organs, just as blood pooled up through my re-breather.


    I shuddered and couldn¡¯t stand. Synapse controls weren¡¯t working.


    A large hand came down to give me a little assistance. Pulled me away from the wreckage and into the air, my head almost pressed against the ceiling.


    ¡°Grugg very angry, will make murderer suffer.¡±


    Club bounced off the floor as he made good on his word. Hand came up and gripped at my left arm. I started to dissociate as he twisted it back. My brain took a few steps away and ignored the sounds. Pain was distant.


    But it was in this far away land, where I wasn¡¯t currently being split apart slowly by a cyclops, that I found something familiar.


    A puzzle piece, catching the bloody high tide of my waning existence, seemed to wash far enough on shore to click into place.


    Something obvious, perhaps. It had been lurking in my peripheral for a while.


    A realization about my old life that filled me with rocketing excitement despite the circumstances.


    I was created for the sole purpose of killing superheroes.

 43 - Structural Changes

    The revelation of my past purpose reverberated within my skull. Made some sense, in retrospect. Ever since Roxy weaseled her way into my drab existence, there had been a part of me that wanted to tear her in half. In a bad way. I had chalked it up to some intrusive thoughts, given that she was annoying, and I was a killer. The deeper my feet had gotten into the muck of things, the more those thoughts persisted, like an annoying fly.


    Took me reaching the brink of death to find the enlightenment that spelled it all out, but now I knew.


    A super solider molded and trained to go against those with superpowers. Part of a squad, I was sure of that much - but anything further was dust that needed more moisture to take form.


    Might explain the League¡¯s interest in me, but little else. My squad must have been terminated or destroyed by a super, and Boss had found and rebuilt me into what I was now. A killer still, but the ties to my true purpose had been literally severed.


    Now, with the light fading from my eyes, I knew exactly why Boss had removed that.


    He wouldn¡¯t be able to control me if I could access my actual abilities.


    Eyes snapped open as a cool pulse ran through my neck, bringing my brain back to life like someone had just dumped mint choc chip ice-cream inside my skull.


    The cyclops glared at me, malevolent joy in his singular eye. Amused at his new toy slowly coming apart in his hands. The weakness of strength users was usually their speed and ranged defense. Whatever river had now overcome the drought and flooded through my senses knew what to do, even if the rest of me was woefully behind the play-by-play.


    Gun-arm came up, synapses gaining control of my cybernetics once more.


    Sanguine stake blew through the arm that was holding me up in the air.


    Surprise in the singular eye of the cyclops, as the metal rod tore through muscle and ejected from the back of his arm into the scenery beyond. He released me; I dropped.


    I landed awkwardly on the marbled floor, left shin fracturing and dropping me to one knee. My left arm was¡­ still phsyically attached, but that¡¯s about as much as I could say for it. Sparks ran through my brain as movements long trained came back to me.


    Taser shot out, the pump immediately racking into a reload just as the trigger released - only to fire again. What had been a several step thought process to work my synapse-controlled gun was no longer pump-action, but automatic.


    I unloaded another five shots of the Taser into the villain on repeat, shells clattering against the floor as the power finally overwhelmed and stunned him. He balled up in defense, trying to weather my next assault rather than attack. Fatal mistake.


    Overcharged flared up, and I put a Sanguine stake through his hands covering his face, bursting through his eye, and coring his brain.


    Should have just done that at the start. I shook my head as I tried to stand, but couldn¡¯t. Just needed a minute.


    Ignored all the warning notifications¡­


    Didn¡¯t care how almost dead it told me I was, because for the first time in ages, I felt alive.


    Whatever magic juice had allowed me the second wind was already fading away. Some variant on the type of stims I used was my best guess. Improved mental clarity and reaction speeds. A temporary measure to gain the upper hand against a super. Downside was now every cut, bruise, break, and tear was screaming at me once more. Higher and higher in pitch every second that passed.


    I growled out, which echoed around the long room. Managed to push myself up to my good leg, even with my vision going spotty from the effort. Breathing was difficult with my re-breather half clogged with my drying blood, not to mention my broken ribs and pierced lungs hating every moment they had to try to keep me alive.


    If my super soldier alter ego also had a healing serum, it would be nice if it activated now.


    No¡­? Nothing. Well, couldn¡¯t win them all.


    The fight against the cyclops had been almost the shortest, I was sure. Perhaps the most damaging, but I understood now the reason I had the Sanguine stakes. They were designed for killing supers. The thought that Boss was trying to kill me off against villains clashed with the fact that he provided me with the ammunition to win.


    That could just be the simple fact that he wanted the contracts complete to get paid. I¡¯m sure his cut was a lot better than mine.


    Still, one-hundred thousand credits. A drop in the bucket for our lofty aims¡­ although I wondered how my companions would view me knowing what I used to be. What I was again becoming.


    Credits were no use to a dead man, so I¡¯d better stop circling my thoughts around and find a way out of here.


    Dragging my leg was agony. Each step vibrated through my body, setting off all the nerves warning me that a dirt nap might be preferable to continuing on. I certainly missed my regular stims. Bubble baths and soft beds, too - but that didn¡¯t seem too important.


    Or were they?


    My motivation for putting myself at death¡¯s door had changed. Before, it was just part of the natural cycle. Contract. Rest and recover. Repeat.


    Now I had people that would be upset if I didn¡¯t turn up alive the next day. Having a social life was such a burden. Unfortunately, I now craved it. Wanted to see how far things could go. Support Clara and learn more about who Roxy was.


    Doors groaned as they opened up, revealing the darkened car park with the spiral ramp just to my left. Tempting to have a nap here - sure, not the most comfortable, but the gloom was welcoming. Trail of blood behind me would lead any remaining henchmen my way though. Wasn''t in the mood to entertain company.


    Re-breather struggled as I started to descend the sloped concrete. Boot slipped on a patch of slick oil and I fell to the ground, rolling a dozen feet before sliding down to the next level. Add a few more grazes to the list. Was beyond the pain at this point, my mind hazy and disjointed like I was drunk.


    Memories swam as I lifted myself back up, propping myself up with the muzzle of my gun-arm. Shadows danced in the darkness, as if my mind was trying to replay old memories. Was it my squad? The ones who had been in charge of me? My previous victims?


    Active brain caught up with my current life, and I was by my bike somehow. Running on autopilot. Blacked out for part of that journey. Whole body shaking and cold, I arranged myself on to the vehicle. The vibration thrumming through me as it started up made me want to throw up.


    If the street lights could just stay still and stop waving about, that would help too. Lurched forward, my bike taking me almost a block before I swerved off of the road and into something that put me to bed.


    Darkness took the pain away from me.


    <hr>


    Bright white then flooded my vision. Had I died? The pain clutching at my muscles hinted that no, I had not. Not yet.


    Some shapes began to form, as my eyes adjusted to what was the light of day. Familiar furniture, and I was¡­ laying in a bed. My head turned slowly to the side.


    Roxy. Sitting in a chair, reading a magazine. She looked tired and rather annoyed.


    [I wondered if I had died and gone to heaven. Your presence confirms it.]


    Her eyes snapped up from where she was reading. ¡°Fuck you, Dubs. Seriously¡­ I don¡¯t know even where to begin.¡± She folded the magazine closed and dropped it to the floor so that she could cross her arms. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can even talk to you right now.¡±


    I turned my eyes back up to the ceiling. What a pleasant place. I should injure myself like this more often. No half-broken goggles on me, but it was difficult to know more, as I was pretty numb all over.


    [Understandable.]


    ¡°I thought you almost died in that clone factory, but seeing you last night¡­¡± In my peripheral, I saw her shake her head. ¡°I¡¯m not strong enough to keep putting you back together like this.¡±


    My eyes closed, and I breathed clearly, my tubes clean. Couldn¡¯t really argue with that and didn¡¯t know what else to say. That was the problem with getting the hooks of affection caught in your heart - the pain once they tugged away.


    [You have my thanks for rescuing me.]


    ¡°Thank Clara. She was the one who dug your dumbass out of the construction site and drove you over here.¡± She sighed deeply. ¡°I had no idea what kinda bullshit you were getting up to until you arrived.¡±


    [But you do now?]


    There was a moment of silence before she responded. ¡°I do¡­ but I¡¯m not sure I believe it. You¡¯re a tough asshole, Dubs¡­ but you¡¯re punching like¡­ way over your weight.¡±


    [I see.]


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t give me that.¡± She stood and stepped up to the bed, leaning over so that I couldn¡¯t avoid looking at her. Not only exhaustion, but some sad worry painted her amber eyes. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I just don¡¯t want to see you like this.¡± Her fingertips ran through the side of my hair. ¡°Asshole,¡± she added.


    Wasn¡¯t really sure what to say to her. Getting hurt was just part of my work. I couldn¡¯t promise that I wouldn¡¯t break or die whenever I stepped out against whatever Boss wanted. She was an adult and knew this too, yet couldn¡¯t stop the ache inside her due to the apparent care she held for me.


    [What¡¯s the damage?]


    Her hand withdrew, and she crossed her arms again. ¡°Clara did what she could, as we figured you wouldn¡¯t want to go to a hospital. She said you probably would have died on the ride over if she didn¡¯t have a stim pack she had taken the other day when you were asleep.¡±


    [Her preparedness knows no bounds.]


    ¡°You¡¯ve been in a temporary coma for a couple of days. You fucked a lot of your body up. Clara wasn¡¯t sure you¡¯d be able to keep your arm¡­ it was barely attached to the rest of you. Bones are setting and all the muscles you tore are regrowing, but we don¡¯t know how your organs are faring.¡±


    [Couple of days? That means she is¡­]


    ¡°At her interview right now, yeah.¡±


    [Fuck.]


    Roxy sighed and sat on the bed. ¡°She said she would give it her best, but you¡¯d best talk to her later. I¡¯ve honestly never seen her so¡­ worried, I guess. You¡¯ve made a big impression on her.¡±


    [I had hoped to send her off with my well wishes.]


    ¡°You soft shit.¡± She turned to put her legs up on the bed and leaned back - laying next to me with her head propped up by her elbow. ¡°Better not make a habit of letting us down, Dubs.¡±


    I tilted my head to look at her again. Some of the annoyance had gone from her face, to be replaced with more tired relief. It was difficult not to feel some guilt in being so reckless, now that I was here looking her in the eyes. Not the worst fate.


    [Why is it you like me so much?]


    She pulled a face and rolled her eyes, before giving up on trying to be coy about it. ¡°I know it¡¯s¡­ unconventional? Like, not just your cybernetics and shit, but what your work is¡­ but I dunno.¡± She gave the approximation of a shrug as best as her position allowed. ¡°Aside from the whole danger thing, lovely eyes, and nice physique - you¡¯re just different from anyone I have met before. You call yourself a monster, but you¡¯re eloquent and patient. Even when you¡¯re giving me shit, I know you care deep down.¡±


    [Even when I reeked of death?]


    ¡°Yeah. I did tell you a bath would change your life.¡± She smiled and tilted her head. ¡°But what about you? Got a thing for musclebound hotheads who suck at their forced career?¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    [Seems to be so, yes. Although you are less of a hothead and more just foul-mouthed.]


    Her eyes rolled again. ¡°I¡¯m usually a lot worse, but something about you just keeps me calm. Weird, right? Considering I¡¯m so much stronger than you.¡±


    [Are you?]


    ¡°Asshole. You¡¯re the one laying here beaten to a paste. Anything to get out of dueling me, huh?¡± The warmth of her smile slowly faded as I continued to stare at her blankly.


    [Oh, sorry. This would be where I placed my hand on the side of your face and ran my thumb on your cheek. But I am unable to move my arm whatsoever.]


    The smile returned, and she narrowed her eyes at me. ¡°You¡¯re remarkably charming, you know? A little suspicious, for a cold-hearted killer.¡±


    [Just needed the warmth of your presence to melt away the frost.]


    Roxy ran her tongue across her lips before biting her lower one. ¡°We really have to duel?¡±


    [Imagine me nodding slowly as I withdraw my hand from your face.]


    ¡°Motherfucker, I ought to just end you now.¡± She sighed and got up off the bed. ¡°Let me go grab you a fresh can from the freezer and then I¡¯ll fill you in on what you¡¯ve missed.¡±


    [Roxy?]


    She paused near the door and looked back. ¡°Yeah, Dubs?¡±


    [Thank you.]


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± she waved me off as she left the room.


    Didn¡¯t take her long to return, and the chilled nutritional canister was a delight for my aching body. Couldn¡¯t sit up yet, but feeling was starting to come back in places - often unpleasant, but I¡¯d rather be in agony than have something be numb and potentially inert for good. Like how my arm felt.


    First up, she told me about the meeting about the prison break. Gregor had apparently facilitated it, while Lady Peony had created a distraction a little further in the city. They had expected some pushback, which is why the ratman was alert and had clocked that I was nearby and watching them.


    I asked why the League hadn¡¯t gone back after them, knowing where they were. The response was a dull look and insinuation that I really didn¡¯t know how things in the city worked. Perhaps true. I had forgotten that often the role of heroes was more performative and for the spectacle in the public¡¯s eye, than to erase crime itself.


    She listened as I went through my vigilante methods of taking the Five Eyes to justice. I left little detail out - from what I could remember - and her facial expressions ranged from horror to disbelief. Although she trusted it was all true, she still had a hard time believing it was possible, knowing what I was usually capable of.


    I did not bring up my past. Told her I had something to tell them both when we were together. She hated that, but understood.


    Next matter for us to discuss was the debriefing from our monster hunting trip.


    Roxy leaned back in the chair and put her feet up on the bed. She was wearing a plain white t-shirt and black leggings, clearly not intending on going to work anytime soon. ¡°They were pretty pleased with our performance. Said the work on the cultists was a little sloppy, though.¡±


    [Oh? Is that because some escaped?]


    ¡°No. They anticipated either we would subdue them all or kill them all. Not a mix.¡±


    I grunted. Easier said that done. Next time I would murder everything then - although I was willing to bet our next sidekick test would involve things I couldn¡¯t shotgun to death with reckless abandon.


    ¡°They also¡­ want your sidekick name soon. For marketing purposes.¡±


    [Marketing?]


    ¡°What, you thought you¡¯d avoid all the actual bullshit? Got yourself a shortlist yet?¡± The eagerness in her eyes was almost too much to handle.


    [I¡¯ve¡­ been workshopping some ideas. I¡¯ll tell you¡­ soon.]


    ¡°Ah.¡± She put her hands behind her head. ¡°I guess while you¡¯re my prisoner here, you¡¯ll have plenty of time to think.¡±


    Picking out a name wasn¡¯t the harder part of the process. Speaking it out loud and having it officiated was something that gave me¡­ pause for concern. Not that I was especially tied to Agent W or Dubs, but a third awkward name that I wasn¡¯t attached to would be disappointing.


    [About that. I appreciate you allowing me the spare room to recover.]


    ¡°Of course.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Not like we could work on you in that gloom and filth you call a home. Some offense intended.¡±


    [I would like to request I could use the room¡­ on a more long-term basis.]


    ¡°For real?¡± She sat up straight and brought her hands back down. ¡°Roommates is going to be an odd one, but if we get some ground rules down, it should work. Are you super sure? Not that I¡¯m trying to dissuade you.¡± Roxy¡¯s feet tapped up and down on the floor.


    [At least until I can get my own place. I¡¯ll pay my fair share of bills.]


    ¡°How come Clara gets the sugar daddy treatment, but I just get a ¡®fair share¡¯?¡± She put on a pout.


    [You think this is a cyborg secret millionaire romantasy fiction? Perhaps you watched that training dummy video one too many times.]


    The super froze in place for two seconds before standing up abruptly. She strode straight out of the room, the glow on her face almost illuminating the plain walls. ¡°Be-right-back.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t exactly where I wanted the conversation to lead, but part of me was acting out. Prodding at the weaknesses she had, mostly because I was essentially at her mercy at present. Not that I believed she would do anything terrible to me, but I needed to prepare. A compulsion to have contingencies against the supers around me.


    Plus, I found it very endearing when she blushed.


    Without access to my STAR, I felt more blind than ever. Needed to order from Hal. To see if Boss had confirmation of my success and knew that I was alive. More importantly, I needed to know how Clara was doing.


    Footsteps and the super returned, now with a tub of ice-cream in hand. Expression had cooled off, but she didn¡¯t meet my eye as she went to the chair.


    [The actual reason is that I know you¡¯re not a material person, and have other priorities that you value more than credits.]


    She took a scoop and furrowed her brow. ¡°You can tell that?¡±


    [The decor of your house is very minimalistic and echoes the atmosphere of your old home life. Companionship and the time we spend together means more to you than anything I could buy with my extensive wealth.]


    ¡°Alright.¡± She pulled a face and pointed the spoon at me in accusation. ¡°You already have me wrapped around your inert little finger, you big jerk. That amount of slop needs to be hiding on the other side of our shitty duel if you¡¯re still pushing that.¡±


    [I realize it is unfair.]


    ¡°It¡¯s bullshit.¡± She nodded and scooped more ice-cream. ¡°But I do understand and respect it. Neither of us are normal people with normal jobs or normal desires for the future. If we have to get hard and rough to find out how the soft parts¡­ oh damn it, that sounded better in my head.¡± Roxy scowled at her dessert.


    I closed my eyes and let her suffer in peace. Wasn¡¯t likely the taste of her own feet went well with what I assumed was the cherry flavor ice-cream. I wanted to move, but felt paralyzed, as if my neck had been severed. Probably came pretty close.


    [I would like to be up and moving before Clara gets back.]


    Opened my eyes again to see that it was much darker in here. Almost dusk, if the hues painting the walls were to be believed. An accidental nap had stolen me away. Turned my head to see that Roxy was laying next to me again, this time her arm over me. Her eyes were looking into mine.


    ¡°One winter my younger sister got real sick. I comforted her like this and she swears it¡¯s what made her feel better in record time.¡±


    [Should have done this from the start then.]


    ¡°Right?¡± She exhaled through her nose and closed her eyes. ¡°Is it weird that you make me feel¡­ safe?¡±


    [Yes.]


    Not only was she much stronger than me, but I was built to kill people like her. Painted the duel in a different light. Now I understood a little better why I wanted the super to be that contingency. The non-zero chance I might try to murder her. She needed to have the mental strength to stop me if that ever came to pass - and I couldn¡¯t discount it just because we were soft on each other at present.


    ¡°Maybe. Want me to help you try to get up, then?¡±


    [Hmm. Let¡¯s wait five minutes first.]


    And we did, without needing to say anything more. A dangerous game. It might encourage me to get hurt again if this was the reward.


    Yet¡­ there was a voice in my head that drew up conspiracy. League knew what I was. What would be the best way to dull my fangs and take the fight out of me? Exactly what was happening. The super organization might have their own contingencies in place.


    Something I might actually believe if I thought Roxy could act in a manner anywhere close to convincing. Same for Clara. It would be difficult to feign this kind of thing - I considered, based on no prior experience.


    Her fingers drummed on my chest. ¡°Alright, Clara will be back soon. Let¡¯s see what you¡¯re capable of.¡±


    [What do I have on under the covers here?]


    Roxy pushed herself up and rubbed at her eyes, our impromptu cuddling almost setting her off to sleep. ¡°Oh. Just compression shorts and then as many bandages as you needed - which was a fucking ton.¡±


    She pulled the covers away to reveal just that. I had been tucked in rather tightly, perhaps to make sure I didn¡¯t roll around and open up my wounds again. Chest and arm were wrapped almost entirely in white linen bandages, and my left leg had patches covered.


    [These are a different pair of shorts.]


    ¡°Clara did it. She insisted you needed to be clean if you were to heal properly.¡± She maintained a neutral look.


    I lifted up my gun-arm slowly and rolled my ankles around. Left arm didn¡¯t respond.


    [Were you present?]


    ¡°No.¡±


    Wasn¡¯t entirely convinced that the technician could have changed me solo, but I didn¡¯t press the point. While it was tiring to know they had both seen me in my birthday suit, at least Clara had a more medical reason for it.


    I groaned as I sat up, her hand behind my back to assist me. Managed to shuffle around to the edge of the bed and took a deep sigh.


    Concern across her brow. ¡°Left arm?¡±


    I shook my head.


    ¡°Let me get it up in a sling to keep it in place.¡±


    Exhaustion washed over me now that my aching body needed to do more than just exist. Stims had done a decent job of fooling me into believing I was mostly recovered, but even sitting up was tiring. Muscles cramped and tensed with sharp pangs of pain, and I closed my eyes. Couldn¡¯t feel the super adjusting my arm into the sling.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll hear this a lot from the both of us, but it¡¯s a miracle you¡¯ve healed as well as you have. Even with whatever bullshit your stims are capable of, the trauma is just¡­¡± She put her hand on my head briefly. ¡°Positive thoughts, huh?¡±


    I nodded and opened my eyes. With her arm gripping at my weapon, she helped me to my feet. It was as if I hadn¡¯t used my legs for years, and I shuffled like a retiree towards the stairs. At the top, I stopped and furrowed my brow at the potential ways in which I could mangle myself.


    ¡°Nobody needs to know this happened.¡±


    Roxy princess-carried me down the stairs, and placed me gently on the floor once more. We moved to the lounge in silence - but I didn¡¯t want to sit down just yet.


    [Let me move about and work life back into my limbs.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t overdo it. I¡¯ll go grab my ice-cream and find you some clothes to wear.¡±


    As soon as she was out of sight and going up the stairs, I deflated and scrunched my eyes closed. Worst recovery of my life. So far.


    Front door swung open, as did my eyes. Clara stepped through and turned to me immediately.


    [Clara, I-]


    Before I could get any further words out, the techie ran up to me and went straight into a hug - almost knocking me over. I placed the barrel of my gun against her back gently.


    ¡°I¡¯ll remind you, Mr Dubs, that I lack the capacity to make tears. Do you know how agonising it is to impotently sob for hours after having to try to put you back together for half a day?¡± She didn¡¯t move away, her face still pressed against my bandaged chest.


    [I am truly sorry.]


    ¡°Good, you should be. I sat there and watched the injuries flood in through your maintenance node, unable to look away, and knowing I could do nothing to help.¡±


    [The League wouldn¡¯t like that.]


    ¡°Fuck the League, Mr Dubs.¡± She leaned away to scowl at me. ¡°I knew that you didn¡¯t want me to interfere, and I have full confidence in you to succeed. I thought I was watching one of my two friends slowly die. And then after rescuing what was left of you, I had to spend hours on surgery to make you whole. I may come off aloof, but that was very traumatizing.¡±


    [I shall hold the guilt for a long while.]


    She released her grip and stepped back away, dusting down her overalls. ¡°Don¡¯t feel guilty, just be better. I¡¯d rather use my skills to prevent you from coming to harm, than deal with the aftermath.¡±


    Despite her good intentions, I still couldn¡¯t rightfully involve her in my contracts. She was expertly twisting the knife and leading me to that eventuality, but I would try to hold out. No going back or plausible deniability if the League caught her moonlighting as an accomplice to murder. Especially if I were going after villains.


    [No promises. More importantly, how was the interview?]


    ¡°Draining.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°Mr Jarl is a reasonable man with stringent rules and high standards. I completed each of the five stages of the interview as competently as I could and maintained a cordial rapport with him. I should hear back within a week.¡±


    [I am sure you did well.]


    ¡°Of course, Mr Dubs.¡± The techie turned her head as the sound of footsteps came from the stairs. ¡°Although I was the least experienced and had no networked connections, I am sure your faith in me is enough to give me the edge.¡± Her green eyes went back to me. ¡°That sounded like sarcasm, but was not.¡±


    Roxy stepped into the lounge doorway. ¡°Hey, Clara. Your pet project walks once more.¡± She threw something at me that I caught on the end of my gun barrel. ¡°Couldn¡¯t find a top, but these tracksuit pants should fit you.¡±


    Although salmon wasn¡¯t really my color, the prospect of trying to put them on without any hands was almost as unappetizing.


    ¡°Oh, shoot,¡± the super said, making the same realization. ¡°Give me a hand, Clara.¡±


    [And then I¡¯d like to go to the dining room.]


    ¡°Sure thing, grandpa.¡± Roxy smiled, while Clara gave me a knowing nod.


    Given what we had all been through and our shared exhaustion, the act of them both dressing me wasn¡¯t very awkward - uncooperative legs aside. We then shuffled into the dining room, which now had even more of a surgery slash workshop, with further cases stacked against the walls.


    Roxy kept her hand on my back as we watched the corner devices light up and gradually change from red to green, even though I was sure I could stand unaided at this point.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Clara tapped at her laptop as the last of the light turned green. ¡°Dead Zone is active.¡±


    I moved from Roxy to go and sit on the edge of the wide slab they had repaired me on twice now. Although many of our secrets were out in the open, there were still a few things that needed to stay between the three of us.


    [During my fight¡­ I recalled some of my past.]


    Roxy bit her lip in anticipation, while Clara sat on one of her cases and gave me a nod. ¡°The connections must be regaining function, Mr Dubs.¡±


    [I believe so. While most memories are still a distant fog, I was able to recall my purpose, and activate one of my built-in abilities.]


    ¡°Abilities?¡± Clara raised an eyebrow.


    [I will call it¡­ Reflex. Felt like an adrenaline shot that improved my reaction time and mental acuity for a brief period.]


    The super waved her hand. ¡°Fuck that. More importantly, what was your purpose?¡±


    I took a deep breath and looked between the two. Unsure of how they would react to the grand reveal. Perhaps they already had an inkling, or it wasn¡¯t as surprising as it had been for me.


    [My life as a super soldier was hunting and the termination of superheroes.]


    Silence.


    Clara nodded slowly, her eyes looking away as if she was trying to recall some information. Roxy¡¯s face went through several different emotions, before she settled on a grimace.


    ¡°Villains, you mean, right?¡±


    [Those¡­ with super powers. I do not have any further detail.]


    ¡°Fuck!¡± She rubbed at her eyes and sighed. ¡°That makes some of this weird game in the background make some sense¡­ maybe?¡±


    Clara drummed her fingers on the case. ¡°League wanted information on your Boss, but found he had an ex-super killer on his roster. Boss knows the League is on his tail, so is pushing you to fight more people with super powers.¡± She furrowed her brow. ¡°But does he want you dead, Mr Dubs, or to reignite your past purpose?¡±


    ¡°Might even want you to fight against the League at some point.¡± The super crossed her arms and glared at the floor, chewing on her own thoughts.


    We fell into another silence as each of us came up with our own theories or ways in which this made sense. What parts we were supposed to play in this scheme.


    With a glance at the two of them, I decided I was too tired to care at present. We¡¯d all had enough to go through lately and needed a break and some levity.


    So I changed the subject in a way that I regretted almost immediately.


    [I have decided on my sidekick name.]


    Their eyes snapped to me, and Roxy opened her mouth, ready to be surprised. Neither willing to speak out and change the course I had set myself out on. I had to see it through now.


    With one long sigh that rattled my re-breather, I stood up tall and told them.

 44 - Changing Gear

    I stood in the middle of the dining room, the soft wall lighting putting me center stage for this early evening showing of how much I could embarrass myself.


    The audience was mulling over my offering. I had said my proposed sidekick name with as much confidence as I could, but now that feeling was waning. A mistake made that couldn¡¯t be unspoken.


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ hate it.¡± Roxy furrowed her brow and rubbed at her chin.


    ¡°It¡¯s sufficiently over the top, and pairs well with ¡®Rockslide¡¯,¡± Clara agreed. ¡°I can tell you put some thought into it, Mr Dubs.¡±


    [I would still need to get League approval for it to be officiated, though?]


    The super shrugged. ¡°Technically, but they very rarely deny a request unless it¡¯s already taken or offensive in some way. Soooo, if you like that, then it¡¯s as good as real.¡±


    [You both sure you think it¡¯s okay?]


    The technician leaned back on the case. ¡°Definitely. It¡¯s very¡­ provocative. Promises some hard and heavy violence. Is that why you like it, Rockslide?¡±


    ¡°Ah, oh.¡± She scrunched up her face. ¡°You lost me there, but no. I think it is a good name, and you¡¯ll always be Dubs to me, no matter what the League wants to call you.¡±


    [I guess it is decided then.]


    Gunquake.


    The weapon I used, something to tie me thematically to the super, and then all wrapped up in overdone nonsense. I could barely stomach it, yet it felt it had stuck. An etched line to give my new life some measure.


    ¡°Before we go into whatever is next on the agenda, Mr Dubs,¡± Clara began, content enough to continue using my apparent formal name, ¡°I would like to let you know that your Public Defender order has come in, and I was able to acquire a couple of things to replace your breakages during your work.¡±


    [I appreciate that. New goggles, I assume?]


    She nodded and brought out a small case from the pile. ¡°Was a pain in the ass to get them in the same green tint, so I had to shell out extra. Plus side is they are a better grade, have the lense tech built in, and are better in low light conditions.¡±


    Case popped open, and she brought them out. I didn¡¯t have any way of taking them from her, so she gestured Roxy over to do the deed.


    [Thank you, I will repay you the cost.]


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Her head tilted to the side as she watched the super put the goggles on, resting them on my forehead. ¡°Let¡¯s call it a favor owed? Something I can call in at any time.¡±


    [Ominous, but acceptable.]


    Roxy scowled at her. ¡°Better not be anything weird, you little witch.¡±


    Clara stuck her tongue out before looking back at me with a more composed expression. ¡°I also have a new gauntlet. You burned the other one out, and one of the plates was twisted beyond repair.¡± The green light of her eyes went to my left arm. ¡°We¡¯ll pull it out and slap it on the table when more appropriate. How is your arm now, Mr Dubs?¡±


    I stared at it for a couple of seconds.


    [It does not move when requested.]


    She nodded and stepped closer to me. Her finger jabbed at the back of my hand, wrist, forearm, elbow, upper arm, and finally shoulder. ¡°Anything?¡±


    [Only shoulder has some dull sensation.]


    Clara sucked at her teeth and gave me a shrug. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d accuse you of have regeneration super powers. Your recovery is between three and five times quicker than baseline human, on average. Stims account for a lot, but not all of that. I will be honest, Mr Dubs, and tell you it is too soon to say whether you need either amputation or invasive synapse surgery.¡±


    [Understood. I appreciate the candor.]


    Turned my gaze to see the worry on Roxy¡¯s face. I had made light of tearing my arm off to replace with more cybernetics, but with that becoming something closer to reality, it wasn¡¯t something either of us wanted. Couldn¡¯t be helped at this stage, but perhaps Boss had some shady doctors on call that could help somehow.


    ¡°I¡¯m exhausted as hell,¡± the super complained. ¡°Already almost fell asleep when we were¡­¡± Her gaze went over to the techie. ¡°Are you staying over, Clara?¡±


    [Too late, I¡¯ve moved in and stolen the spare room.]


    She narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. ¡°You sneaky bastard, Mr Dubs. Then I shall take the couch.¡±


    Roxy just looked thankful she hadn¡¯t blurted out that we had been briefly cuddling earlier. We had the rules of the duel to follow, and knowing that Clara had been coaching the super on how to defeat me, we didn¡¯t want to undermine her efforts. Just the mere thought of fighting filled me with excited anticipation.


    My left hand tensed and relaxed.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Clara emoted my thoughts exactly. ¡°Something got you all excited there, Mr Dubs? Dare I ask?¡±


    [Hmm.]


    I tried to flex my hand again, but nothing happened. Some¡­ minor ache as if it remembered the notion, but that was it.


    [Actually, I would like a brief stroll. Some fresh air would be nice - if you could put my goggles down Roxy, I probably have messages to catch up with.]


    ¡°Of course.¡± Her brow was furrowed, but she did as I had asked. ¡°You want some company on your walk?¡±


    [No, but thank you. I shall not stray far.]


    The green hue of my new goggles was comforting, although I had grown used to my normal sight. I gave the women a nod as I excused myself and watched the lense pair with my STAR system. Out of the Dead Zone and through the hall - before outdoors. A breeze rustle through the night air, cooling my bare feet and parts of my torso not bandaged up.


    Grass lawn was delightful to walk over, the rough dirt and loose gravel of the rest of the wastelands not so much. Yet, my feet continued to take me down to the training dummies.


    I stood in the middle of them and took one deep breath. Lense wasn¡¯t active yet.


    Eyes narrowed, and I lashed out at the closest dummy, twisting into a kick at one of the arms of the next, before clicking the trigger. Imaginary block, to push, head-strike, and turn and fire. Paused as pain ran up and down my body¡­ including my upper left arm.


    Burst into combat again. Knee and then elbow. Fire. Turn, deflect, shoulder, and fire.


    Imagined the dummies having the faces of the Five Eyes. Movement became more pointed and direct. An anger drove me to work against them with greater fervor. I felt the lump of something mentally - a manifested button almost.


    I hit it and Reflex kicked in. The positioning of each dummy became clearer as my eyesight focused. Chamber clacked back and forth at speed as I imagined dumping a whole mag in quick succession. Had already loaded in a pretend mag with my left at the same time as launching a couple of melee strikes and I¡­


    My left hand hovered in the air outside of the sling, waiting for its next instruction.


    Reflex wore off, and that¡¯s when the pain hit.


    Dropped to my knees, unable to handle the sharp burning sensation that engulfed the inside of my arm. Pressed my gun-arm against it, but that did little to assist. Stims washed through and I got some slight relief. Exhaled the lungful of air I had been holding.


    Footsteps fast approaching and Roxy calling me a few different names. None of them were Gunquake, which I was thankful for. Wasn¡¯t long before they¡¯d dragged me back inside and sat me down on the sofa.


    The super stood with a scowl on her face, hands on her hips. Clara was leaning over me, some eye-wear on, and a tool in her grip that she was using to prod my left arm. Some movement had returned, but it was still near agony to use it normally.


    ¡°Very interesting,¡± she denoted, her eyes lingering on mine before she sat back. ¡°Don¡¯t get excited, though, Mr Dubs. Fighting doesn¡¯t magically heal you.¡± The small device gently tapped at the side of my neck, indicating my Reflex. ¡°You seem to be able to override the body¡¯s natural safety measures that tell you to stop ripping yourself apart.¡±


    [So my arm is just as damaged, I¡¯m just forcing through the trauma and recovery to have it function on a basic level?]


    ¡°I believe so. You are essentially gambling that you can either regain control of your injured parts, at the risk of potentially causing them further destruction.¡±


    Roxy shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t like the sound of that. Dubs is the last person we want gambling when it comes to his safety.¡±


    [When have you ever known me to lose?]


    Her fierce glare was answer enough, and I wondered if I was about to be cut into pieces with eye-lasers.


    Seemed to me like part of my super soldier strength was being able to push my body beyond what it should be capable of. I was starting to get the impression that the old life I had created for had a decent amount of pain within it as well. Any potential advantage eked out from my mortal form, in hopes I could get the upper hand against whatever super powered foe I was put up against.


    [Perhaps I should turn in for the night so as to not cause myself any further trouble.]


    ¡°I am also at my limits,¡± Clara admitted. ¡°Life has certainly been interesting with you around, Mr Dubs. Why don¡¯t you go tuck him in, Rockslide?¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    The super flipped her off before gesturing with her head. ¡°Come on then, you pain in the ass. I¡¯d better make sure you don¡¯t break your ankles going up the stairs.¡±


    [I appreciate your guidance and protection. Goodnight, Clara.]


    ¡°Rest well, Mr Dubs.¡±


    And just like that, Roxy was following me up the stairs. To the right and into the spare room, although she stopped at the door to lean against the frame. I stepped over to the bed and looked around. Was already clean and in reasonable sleepwear - there wasn¡¯t much else for me to do other than get under the covers. Other than being rather chuffed that I was about to spend another night in a real bed, ongoing if I played my cards right.


    I turned to give her a nod.


    [No second thoughts?]


    ¡°Nah. There will be some growing pains¡­ but we¡¯ll discuss the details tomorrow. If you¡¯re for sure moving in, you¡¯ll want to bring some stuff over.¡±


    [Is it strange that we are trying to keep a cordial separation, even knowing how close a bond is developing between us?]


    She stared at me blankly for a few seconds before pulling a face. ¡°In some ways, sure. But we also haven¡¯t known each other long, and I¡¯d rather we had some kind of normality that doesn¡¯t revolve around violence.¡±


    [A great point that I agree with.]


    ¡°Fantastic.¡± She smiled and relaxed. ¡°You know, for as much as I love to be a good host, I¡¯d normally be excited about having two guests over. Can¡¯t even get up early to make either of you a decent breakfast or coffee, though.¡±


    [Is there a health reason for Clara¡¯s dietary choices?]


    ¡°No, she¡¯s just a little weird. I have no clue how she remains healthy and functional.¡± Roxy pushed herself away from the doorframe. ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to turn in as well. Just shout if you need me to help with your body. The¡­ pain and stuff, I mean.¡±


    [Night, Roxy.]


    She hid her flush cheeks as she pulled the door closed, leaving me with a ¡°Night, Gunquake¡± just before it clicked in place.


    I hit the light and got in to bed. Lense was updated, so I could access all my things again, even with my unresponsive arm. Just before I dug into the flashing notifications, I focused on my arm. I could wiggle my fingers and lift it slightly, but it felt as though the muscle was tearing from the bone. With a sigh, it relaxed, and I hit my messages.


    Boss: Received word of your exploits.


    Boss: Didn¡¯t mention it before, but there was a bonus for getting rid of the whole Five Eyes.


    Boss: You¡¯re becoming quite the unexpected powerhouse, Agent W.


    Boss: Check in when you¡¯re able. We have things to discuss.


    Didn¡¯t feel much like checking in at present. It could wait until morning. Checked my bank balance. For getting a full house, I¡¯d earned another twenty-five thousand. Worth almost dying and the potential long-term nerve damage?


    The truth coming to light was perhaps the greater prize.


    I wanted to spend a chunk of it straight away, something unlike me. Hal was a few clicks away, but I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what I wanted or needed. To live, sure. But what material possessions would smooth out that process? Maybe I¡¯d decide after the moving-in chat with Roxy tomorrow. Part of me still didn¡¯t quite believe that I would be living in the super¡¯s house that had dropped in from nowhere.


    And that she wasn¡¯t that annoying anymore.


    Pulled the covers over me and listened to her turn the bathroom light off before going to her room. Door closed with a muffled click. Silence. There was still some amount of discomfort within me, with this space not only being much more comfortable than I was used to, alongside it being in the same house as Roxy.


    Best to keep your friends close, and enemies closer.


    I daydreamed about ways in which I could dismantle different types of super powers, until sleep finally took me.


    A knock at the door soon moved me from a dreamless sleep in what felt like only seconds later, daylight causing me disorientation once again at my unfamiliar location.


    [Come in.]


    ¡°Just me, Dubs.¡± Roxy pushed the door open, toothbrush in the side of her mouth while her hands were full. ¡°Got you fresh suits and boots.¡± She placed them on top of the wooden drawers opposite the end of the bed and turned back to me. The oversized salmon colored sweatshirt she was wearing was probably what paired with the tracksuit pants that I still had on.


    [Appreciate it. Did I oversleep?]


    ¡°Eh. You need the rest.¡± She shrugged and started back off to the door. ¡°Clara has already set off for work, and my evening shift has been pulled forward to go over the aftermath of your bullshit.¡±


    [Apologies.]


    ¡°Hassle, but I prefer working in the day. Clara is busy this evening, so I don¡¯t know what you want to do? I guess you¡¯re not working either?¡±


    [Very unlikely.]


    ¡°Good. Well, have a think and if you come up with something - give me a message.¡±


    I nodded, still in the process of waking up, and she closed the door behind her as she left. Now I was in charge of social activities. Well, my normal default of blowing holes in supposed bad-guys probably wouldn¡¯t go over so well as a suggestion. Especially with my current health.


    In saying that, I lifted my left hand up. There was a residual ache that left my muscles weak - but I could move it to an almost normal degree. Not quite healed, but I could at least get myself dressed. The rest of me was¡­ acceptable. A little rough, but I could fight if needed. Or¡­ just have a calm day.


    Agent W: Alive. Will need time to recover.


    Would be a little rude to not clue Boss in, even as my mood toward him was cooling off. If I didn¡¯t win the employee of the month award for the Five Eyes contract, then I¡¯d be worried about what other monsters he had on the roster. Maybe some actual supers or villains? Other recovered members of my squad?


    I grunted and peeled away the bandages encircling the majority of my torso. My skin had been burned in places from the vampire¡¯s blast attack, but had mostly healed. Oddly enough, the fresh skin seemed to have removed some of my older scars. Maybe I was just all scar now.


    Got into my super suit and pushed on my boots. They had become comforting now. I wondered how similar it was to what I would have worn before. Well, had two arms back then, so somewhat different.


    Looked out of the side window. There was my little shack and my bike. Latter was scratched and dented, ruining the new paint job it had just received. Suited my aesthetic even more now. Any further thoughts about who brought it back here were interrupted by a message from Boss.


    Boss: Understandable. Take whatever time you need.


    Boss: There may be some low stakes contracts if you want to warm up before we resume.


    Boss: How are things developing with the League?


    Agent W: Currently awaiting sidekick trials before they take me on officially.


    Boss: Excellent. Playing along with the agents they sent to soften you up?


    Agent W: My charisma is almost as potent as my gun-arm.


    Boss: I don¡¯t doubt that for a second. Stay sharp, Agent W¡­ and be wary.


    Narrowed my eyes and exhaled as I closed the Chat down. There was some element of believability to the fact that Roxy and Clara were just here to sink their fangs in for the League. Would be simple. A lonely man that needed companionship who could be wooed by their cordial advances. The super had even said the organization wanted her to do that. The thing that she was doing.


    Pessimism was an ugly thing, and it would be easy for me to distrust the pair.


    But I counted on my instincts. At least I trusted them more than I trusted Boss.


    Red dot on my lense told me our observer was on shift. Clara hadn¡¯t specified how exactly we were being tracked or listened to, but I¡¯d play it safe all the same. Made the bed and tidied away my bandages, before I left the room to head downstairs.


    Found Roxy in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to idly watch the wasteland out of the front window as she spooned through another tub of ice-cream.


    [And you decry Clara¡¯s diet.]


    She shot me a glance before scowling. ¡°I eat other things too. You just catch me at inopportune times. How¡¯s the arm?¡±


    I lifted it and flexed my fingers to show off.


    [Weak but functional.]


    ¡°Amazing. I trust you¡¯ll not be doing anything too rigorous with it today? I know you¡¯re an adult, but I have this worry that left to your own devices, you¡¯re gonna get fucked up before I get back home.¡±


    [I wouldn¡¯t dare. In fact, I was considering changing career to something more peaceful.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes and stood up straight. ¡°Enough with the bullshit.¡± Spoon went into the sink as she returned the ice-cream to the freezer. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m a little grouchy today. Nothing you¡¯ve done. Clara has been pestering me to turn a room into a workshop, and I sarcastically said she might as well move in too - and she took that and ran with it.¡±


    [Want me to talk with her?]


    ¡°No, but thanks.¡± She gave me a wry smile. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure she is just winding me up, or just setting me up so that she¡¯ll lower her request back to just the workshop and I¡¯ll accept the ¡®compromise¡¯.¡±


    The prospect of a workshop did sound very useful. I would imagine that the technician either didn¡¯t have the room wherever she lived at present, nor had the funds to get the right sort of equipment for her plans. I wouldn¡¯t rock the boat on that venture, but would support whoever won out. Roxy didn''t exactly have the room to host two maniacs, and it was her home.


    ¡°This might be rude, Dubs.¡± Roxy pulled a face. ¡°But, with Clara¡¯s tuition¡­ if she did pass, you are able to fund it, right?¡±


    [Correct.]


    She nodded slowly. ¡°Hmm. We joked, but I didn¡¯t realize you were that flush. I suppose it won¡¯t be long until you get some cybernetics replaced?¡±


    Although her eyes stared at my arm, they clearly switched to my neck and re-breather before she had even finished the sentence.


    [No. At least, not to the degree that I would find acceptable.]


    The super continued the slow nod, albeit with a little less enthusiasm. ¡°Putting her before yourself? Sometimes I can hardly believe you¡¯re that smelly murderhobo we dug out from under your misery rock.¡±


    A rather poetic statement from her, but she had a point. They had prodded me about my apparent good qualities, and I wondered whether that been me all along, or the old me resurfacing had a few positive traits that were coming back.


    [Not entirely selfless, as I am sure you can imagine the benefit of having her train to better patch me up. She is remarkably keen on getting me further upgrades.]


    ¡°True¡­ Oh, Clara did say you can open the red box in the dining room, and the stuff wrapped in brown paper - but nothing else. Assured me that she would know if you did. Other than that, don¡¯t go into my room¡­ or the basement, and you¡¯re peachy.¡±


    [Should I be concerned that I¡¯m not allowed to see the basement?]


    ¡°It¡¯s just my gym shit, and I get unreasonably pissy if someone touches that. Nothing personal.¡±


    It was now my life¡¯s goal to see what was in the basement.


    [Understood. Are you on duty after your meetings?]


    She shook her head. ¡°I fucking wish. There¡¯s another meeting after that because my little group of assholes hasn¡¯t found a fifth member yet.¡±


    I slowly raised my eyebrows.


    ¡°Nooo, no fucking way, Dubs. You¡¯ve barely started eating shit as a sidekick.¡±


    [Plus I don¡¯t have super powers.]


    ¡°I mean¡­¡± Roxy closed her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not impossible. There are tech-based supers, of course. But you¡¯d not only have to do a whole other bunch of League testing bullshit¡­ but to get a place in the team, you¡¯d need each other member to vouch for you.¡±


    [I am already a quarter of the way there, then.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. ¡°I can¡¯t accept you running around kissing their asses. I swear this stress and ice-cream will be the death of me. Just¡­ take a bath, play with your new toys, and chill out for a day without getting into fresh ways of fucking yourself up, okay?¡±


    [In the interest of not annoying you further, I will look after myself.]


    ¡°Good.¡± She stepped over to go past me, but stopped to pat me on the arm. ¡°Although I give you shit for being too agreeable, knowing when to diffuse my bad moods will be key to us working well together. As super and sidekick.¡±


    I nodded as she continued off out of the room and up the stairs. Probably to go and get ready to go into the city - the lines were far enough apart for me to read between them easily. I walked over to the sink and looked down at the discarded spoon. Hit the tap on and rinsed the utensil off, before putting it on the side.


    Fully domesticated.


    Rather than dither about and wait for the super to leave, I went back out and into the dining room. It was already partially a workshop with all the cases around the edges and a wide bed in the center. I could see why Roxy might be annoyed at that, especially if she ever needed to have other guests over. Clara and I had all but taken over her house, almost.


    On the left side as I entered were my packages from Public Defender and the red case. Next to this was the longer and wider case of my new gauntlet - which I had been explicitly asked not to use or open just yet. A lot of trust was being put in me doing as they asked, but given they had saved my life twice, it didn¡¯t seem so bad to obey.


    First package had six more ten-mags, the most efficient size for a weapon of this type. To add to this, there were a handful of double-stacked mag pouches to attach to my belt. While my hit jobs never used to require such firepower, the superhero work paid to be best prepared for protracted battles - and I could diversify my ammunition.


    There were a few more things that I hadn¡¯t ordered, that Clara must have added. A small red dot sight for the top of my gun, which seemed redundant, but looked nice. There was also a sling, which¡­ I¡¯m unsure why she got that. Didn¡¯t even have sling attachment points, let alone a need to hang my gun-arm up. I¡¯d have to ask her.


    Allowed myself to be distracted by an errant thought for a second and brought up my STAR. Arm ached to be held up in this way, but was survivable. Searched around for a specific business, checked the prices, made the order. That was pretty much all my Five Eyes money spent, and I was sure to get in trouble with at least one of my two friends - but I was willing to weather that storm.


    Took my eyes to the red case. Time to see what Clara had gotten me now.


    Unclipped the front and opened it gently, and there was a note on top. Lifting it up revealed a set of six circles of polished metal. The end-caps of shotgun shells.


    Dear Mr Dubs, the note said, please test the following custom made shell variants.


    This is just a hint of what we will be capable of.

 45 - Cracked Shell

    I carried the red case under my arm, out into the lobby. Absolutely zero chance I was taking out any of the mystery cartridges while still in the house. The longer I could go without so much as scuffing a wall while staying here, the better. I was neither a tidy nor cautious person at the best of times, but the super deserved the courtesy at this point.


    Although I hadn¡¯t heard her leave, the house was now silent. I paused by the front door and looked up the stairs. The ajar bathroom door now had a sign hanging from the handle to indicate whether it was occupied or not, depending on which side you turned it. A lock might have sufficed, although I wondered if the strength super might accidentally force it off, forgetting it was there.


    I¡¯d save the bath for later. It needed to be earned.


    Exited her house and circled around the back. A few dozen steps outside of her property boundary was my old shooting range - although that was a generous term for what was a gathering of rusting and dented panels of metal dug into the ground. I had gotten acquainted with my arm rather quickly, so it never saw that much use other than a couple of times where I needed to blow off steam or try out a new ammunition type.


    Such was today¡¯s occasion.


    I placed the case on the nearest stable barrel and worked out my shoulders.


    //W: About to try out your gifts.


    //Clara: Enjoy. Pick two favorites.


    //Clara: There would have been another type, but I had no time.


    //Clara: Working overtime to get that for you tomorrow, Mr Dubs.


    //W: There¡¯s no need, Clara.


    //Clara: You¡¯ll take your upgrades and like it.


    //Clara: No arguments or questioning my methods.


    //W: Understood.


    I would not want to be an enemy of the technician. Her dedication and passion for making me into a better version of myself was another hint that they weren¡¯t exactly dancing to the tune of the League. This wasn¡¯t all some ruse to take control of me¡­ even though that would be easy for them to do.


    My hand thumbed at the first shell as my chamber opened up. She had written ¡®Pincushion¡¯ along the side. A quick peek at the open end told me all I needed to know. A dense bundle of inch-and-a-half long pointed pins filled the inside.


    I reiterated the fact that I would not want to be an enemy of Clara. That said, it looked like my enemies would fare no better with her behind me. I would worry about the number of laws this kind of thing would be breaking, but I had enough blood on my hands to drown me by now. Not unlikely that the League would just kill me once their investigation had finished.


    Slapped the cartridge in and closed it all up. Passive V-Force hummed at the ready to launch the odd payload.


    But I had my own plans for the League. Something Roxy had said made me itchy. If I was sloppy with my double-agent plans, then I¡¯d be a dead man walking for both Boss and the supers. We needed time before we could go off and start our own organization¡­ so I needed job security, of all things.


    Roxy was sure to hate me for it, but I had made up my mind.


    I was going to push for a full superhero designation.


    There were a few boxes I had to tick off first, but Gunquake would¡­ no, I would think about that later. I needed to work with both Clara and Roxy to meet the standards that I required of myself, before even thinking of the League.


    Arm went out, and I fired.


    Dozens of pins clinked and pinged off the gathered metal parts. A hail of sharp shrapnel that didn¡¯t pierce even the rusty parts of the scenery. Reasonable against soft targets, maybe - but not that damaging. Depending on what material they were made of, they could be useful. For pure general offense, a thumbs down.


    Caught the empty shell as it ejected out to place back in the case, and drew the second one forth. ¡®Foam¡¯ was scrawled on the side. I turned it to look at the blocked end before giving it a sniff. Yes - just as I thought. The material that the mutants used on Roxy. A temporary restraint in a shell¡­ or some inadvertent suffocation, depending where it hit.


    Into the shotgun and then out to a barrel down range. Where it struck, a burst of inflating foam covered about a quarter of the object before it ceased expanding. Enough to pin a limb, which was reasonable for a single shell. Three thumbs out of five.


    I didn¡¯t care to question where Clara had sourced some of these payloads.


    Next shell was¡­ ¡®Bread¡¯?


    My brow furrowed as I slowly inserted it into the open chamber. Turned to one of the closer barricades, and fired. Soft white loaf and hardened crust bounced and shredded itself against the metal target. I stood and stared at it blankly for a handful of seconds. Maybe she had a quota to meet.


    I didn¡¯t rate that one, just in case she could hear my judgements. Probably best I checked the names on the rest of them, just in case the rest were things she had just nabbed from Roxy¡¯s kitchen in the night.


    Napalm. Flesheater. Bloodletter.


    Perhaps I had started from the wrong end of the case. Not only were these much worse sounding, but I didn¡¯t think pelting them against rusted metal would really showcase their potentially terrifying abilities.


    I looked out to the empty wasteland. Did I have any enemies? None perhaps deserving of these maladies in a shell - not on this pleasant day. The thought of riding off and finding some mutants just seemed cruel.


    Hmm. I moved the Napalm in slowly, as if I were still deliberating it. Clara had mentioned she didn¡¯t have time for one more, so that must explain the bread-based projectile. She also wanted me to test them out and pick two - so my choice might be the two she fabricates for me in the future.


    For my contracts, anything would do. For the League¡­ I doubted that any of these would pass the subdue-and-arrest test.


    My eyes and concentration drifted over to the city. Had to come up with something for Roxy and I to do later. As nice as the movie night had been, I didn¡¯t much care for inhaling entertainment media. Something about the violence and trauma I¡¯d been through made it seem¡­ unpalatable. As I couldn¡¯t eat or drink, that took a lot of options off the table.


    I hadn¡¯t recovered enough to duel, and she would have a dim view of fighting anything else. For a moment, I daydreamed about the super taking on a secret identity to help with my contracts, rather than the other way around. Fingers tapped at my side. Amusing, but that actually prompted me to put in a few more orders.


    Time to be more proactive. Overt. Undeniable.


    A flash emerged from my shotgun as the Napalm fired out, slamming into the middle of my peppered range. Flame burst out and rose higher from a few patches of the ground - as well as the empty container I had hit. More persistent and higher flames than the Incendiary shells I already had.


    I lifted the Flesheater cartridge up to look inside. A glass vial that had¡­ things moving inside of it. Deep brown and mottled shades of green. Pretty sure I saw a bunch of segmented legs twitching within. I wasn¡¯t about to fire this off in our backyard. My assumption would be some manner of short-lived carnivorous bugs. If they didn¡¯t die from the impact, they wouldn¡¯t do too well against armored targets. Plus, needing to farm the creatures up was an accident waiting to happen.


    Heavy pass.


    Hand hovered over the case to return it, before I moved the shell into my bandolier instead.


    Last, but by no means least, the Bloodletter shell looked to have a needle to deliver a payload of drugs. Best guess would be something to prevent blood clotting. A neat idea - her heart was clearly in the right place with some of these options¡­ there was just such a small benefit compared to putting something more deadly through an opponent from the outset.


    Still, that one found its way onto my bandolier as well. You never knew.


    Closed the case and frowned at the flames that were still licking away at the dried ground. Which two were my choices, then?


    //W: Foam and Napalm.


    //Clara: Noted.


    //W: There¡¯s something else I need ask of you.


    //W: Large package coming tomorrow.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.//W: Give me a hand? I¡¯ll make it worth your while.


    //Clara: I¡¯m all yours.


    //W: Also a Public Defender order, if you have time later.


    //Clara: You are certainly working me hard, Mr Dubs.


    //Clara: Send the details. I¡¯ll get it done.


    I packed up the rest of the case and walked back to the front of the houses, over to my shack. There were a lot more things I could ask Clara for, but didn¡¯t want to push my luck. She was already doing a lot. I shouldn¡¯t rush the process. Especially not before getting Roxy¡¯s blessing. Perhaps an odd way to spend our social evening.


    The drab interior hit me like a fog of pure malaise. As if my life was being sucked away from me, even standing in the doorway. The super had mentioned I could move things across, but filling her rooms with my crates seemed rude. Plus, with one hand, I might struggle. I left the case on my workbench and just grabbed the stims, nutrition canisters, and shrapnel remover cases - managing to balance them in my grip as I left.


    Once she was done with the last of the ice-cream¡­ which should be no time at all, I would steal the freezer for my room and put all my canisters in it. Waking up every morning to that, in the pleasant bedroom, would be bliss.


    Tidied around the dining room for a bit, only partially tempted to look into some of the things I wasn¡¯t supposed to. Went and sat on the sofa while I sent Clara my order. She could bring it over when she came to help with Hal¡¯s delivery. Trailer had seemed like a good idea at the time, but my motorbike wasn¡¯t exactly ideal for pulling it. Not with what I had coming, anyway.


    My eyes idly went to the coffee table, one of the League-produced magazines laying there. I shuffled forward and flicked it open. Some training was next on my agenda, but a few minutes of rest first wouldn¡¯t kill me.


    Middle spread was a group shot of the current five S-Ranks. The most powerful and influential super group in the city. I¡¯d seen their faces on billboards and the like over time, but having been avoidant of that side of life for so long, I never had a need to dig any further than their glossy public-facing marketing images.


    Now I had more of a professional interest, in more ways than one.


    Angel was recognizable instantly. The all-rounder in a white super suit with gold trim looked every part of her namesake¡­ if not extremely over produced. Picture-perfect public darling. Whoever wrote this article couldn¡¯t help but gush over her purported qualities. Probably on the payroll of her partner.


    Second to catch my eye was Bucket. It wasn¡¯t clear if he was part cybernetic, robotic, or just had a full armored suit that gave the effect of one of the former. He was the group¡¯s support hero and had shielding and defensive powers, but used his metal parts for offense.


    Not quite fitting enough to be someone to aspire to.


    The next odd character was Fast Girl. A tall and slim woman in a bright green suit striped with luminous yellow. Interesting to note was she looked older than the rest of the group by a good decade - despite the blurb beneath her saying she was the most recent member. Speedster, if the name hadn¡¯t given it away.


    Taking up most of the background of the shot was RED ROCK. They had even written it in capitals. An overtly large and muscled orc with red skin. Notable quirks seemed to be saying his name louder than necessary and hitting things really hard. I could respect the simplicity of it, at least.


    Last was¡­ Silhouette. Not pictured - or rather, they were there, but invisible. No details about gender, ancestry, or abilities. Oh, no. They weren¡¯t exactly invisible, but were unable to be pictured by conventional cameras. Made me think back to my mysterious aura, which didn¡¯t actually exist. Perhaps this super just didn¡¯t show up to the shoot, and that was given as an excuse.


    I tried to think back to previously mentioned billboards - had I seen Silhouette before?


    Had anyone? Now the imagined conspiracy had me intrigued.


    Closed the magazine up and didn¡¯t much care for any of the other articles. Just something to whet my appetite and get my mind excited for potentially killing them one day. Not¡­ that such a thing was likely or a very smart decision, but thinking about how to beat out certain super powers was just part of who I was.


    Was a decent enough primer for my training. Out of the house and to the dummies. Spent probably¡­ an hour straight in constant fighting with them. Aching and soaked with sweat after, but it had brought some strength back to my left arm. Clara didn¡¯t think I healed from combat, but the evidence was willing to lead me astray. Practiced with Reflex, which had a good handful of minutes of refractory period. By the end of my training, I felt dry, a headache forming where I had been exerting myself a little too much.


    But the prize was a good bubble bath.


    Flipped the sign to say it was occupied, ran the taps, and stripped down.


    I could get used to living like this.


    The warm water and obscuring bubbles soon made the trauma endured against the Five Eyes seem like a bad dream. I hope that the next time I wanted a lump of my prior existence to slop back into my current mindscape that I didn¡¯t need to be brought to the brink of death. Wouldn¡¯t always get lucky and have an ability to pull me out of harm¡¯s way - nor have an enemy keen to take their time to disassemble me.


    I raised my gun-arm up to look at it. While a new face was a given, for a few different reasons, I hadn¡¯t decided about replacing my shotgun. A second workable hand did have benefits. Currently, this was the most efficient way of shooting people¡­


    My body sunk into the water further as I had a think. Not that it mattered right now.


    I needed money.


    There wasn¡¯t an easy way of getting millions of credits, however. Didn¡¯t think I knew anyone who would help me roll over a bank. I could look to see if there were any bounties, but they¡¯d just be in the same ballpark as Boss¡¯s contracts. A few grand for an hour or two of effort was alright, but wasn¡¯t building me to be the superhero I wanted to be.


    Nor the superhero killer I needed to be.


    While my aches soaked away, thoughts in my head ground around like wasteland dirt. Trying to find out more about myself. Part of a group working to kill those with super powers¡­ but working for who? And how insidious was my role? Assassination seemed reasonable, but I could have been in some manner of protective force - a last resort for taking out uncontrollable supers?


    Something in my heart told me it was nothing benevolent.


    Then I and my group had either met their match or outlived our usefulness. I was dotting around plot points that seemed to fit, but it could be anything for as much as I knew. Other than cracking my skull open and hoping some truths would work their way out of my head, I needed to find a smarter way of getting answers.


    I eventually removed myself from the bath, drying off before getting into a fresh suit. Gave myself a good look over in the mirror. Could I ever be a hero? I could act the part, certainly. Save some innocents and shoot the bad guys - non-lethally, of course. Probably would never look the part, though.


    Would I even be allowed to become so publicly overt? Boss might allow it if he thought I¡¯d be weaseling my way further into the League. The super organization itself¡­ would be a tougher sell. They¡¯d already rolled out the red carpet in allowing me to become a sidekick without removing my head. Full-on hero might be a stretch even if they were using me to dig into Boss and my past more.


    I knew at least I¡¯d have Roxy and Clara on my side. While the super had expressed some disdain at the thought, she had been supportive of my growth and life change to this point. Made me feel like a fully functioning person rather than a discarded killing tool.


    Having to persuade the rest of her group was neither here nor there. I didn¡¯t have to be part of their five, but if all it took were some charms and show of competency, then I pretty much had it in the bag.


    Needed some upgrades still, but everything in time.


    Left the bathroom and went into my bedroom. It was late afternoon now, most of the day washed away with my activities. Still hadn¡¯t decided what to do with Roxy - maybe just talk? I had a fire burning within me to get more balls in motion to keep the momentum up. Didn¡¯t want to sit still and languish while there was still so much to do.


    In saying that, I took myself over and laid on the bed. Still recovering after all, even if the exercise and bath had brought me up to close-enough status. Rather than nap, I cycled through several catalogues on my lense. Spent far too much time distracted by one shop that sold food - considering I couldn¡¯t consume any of it.


    It did make my insides crave a freshly chilled canister, however. Closing down the screens to see that it was now near dusk, I pushed myself out of bed and went down to the kitchen.


    Fresh one in with a hiss, old one out into the trash can. Today had been a far cry from the hell endured as of late, and I felt¡­ content. Fulfilled, almost. All I needed now was a chill evening with the super. Might even break away more of the shell I was begrudgingly hiding behind.


    As if hearing my thoughts, a sound in the distance caught my attention.


    I turned my head as I heard a heavy thump from outside. A few seconds of silence passed and then the front door opened, Roxy coming inside.


    ¡°What a shitty fucking day,¡± she said, her face selling the statement well.


    [Did you want to talk about it?]


    ¡°Not really.¡± She gave me a glum smile and moved past me. ¡°Not until I¡¯m at least fifty percent ice-cream.¡± After picking out a spoon, she opened the freezer to make her choice of flavor. ¡°How was your day?¡±


    I held my arms out and rotated in a slow circle.


    [Not a scratch on me.]


    ¡°Miracles can happen, huh?¡± She withdrew the vanilla tub. ¡°Listen, I know we were going to hang tonight, but I could really do with some space to vent. Just hit the gym and burn off the stress.¡±


    [I understand, that is completely fine. There are a few things I can busy myself with and keep out of your way.]


    ¡°Perfect. Prime sidekick material.¡± Roxy stabbed the spoon into the frozen stuff and went to move out of the kitchen.


    [Actually, there was just one thing though, about that?]


    ¡°Oh?¡± She paused and looked as though she already held a grudge for my preventing her from escaping so soon. ¡°Shoot.¡±


    [About what you said this morning. I would like to become a full hero rather than a sidekick.]


    ¡°Absolutely not.¡± She shook her head.


    [But why? There are many advantages that-]


    ¡°No, sorry, Dubs. I can¡¯t have this conversation right now.¡± The super started backing away towards the lobby. ¡°It¡¯s a shitty idea, though.¡±


    [I suppose we will have to disagree on that then.]


    ¡°Yeah, we will. I know your dumbass is still thinking of doing it though¡­ and you don¡¯t have my blessing.¡± She shrugged, partly exasperated, still wanting to move away from this conversation.


    [Yet you are fine with me playing sidekick. I am only good for that?]


    A scowl dominated her face. ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m saying. Being a hero isn¡¯t just the next step where they¡¯ll kiss your ass and everything is peachy. You¡¯ll have to change your life completely and get an ID and shit, be a real person. You can¡¯t just-¡±


    [Ah, I am not a real person.]


    ¡°Dubs.¡± She deflated, letting out an impatient sigh. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that, I¡¯m¡­¡±


    I held up my hand to stop her.


    [It¡¯s fine. Enjoy your evening.]


    Walked past her as her mouth opened and closed, still a decent amount of exhausted ire in her eyes. Over to the front door and out into the cool evening air. Door closed behind me, the end of the conversation fully realized. A matter settled.


    I took a few steps out into the grass before bringing up my chat window.


    Agent W: I need something to kill. Now.

 46 - Edging

    Enshrouded in darkness once more. Unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t dense enough to miss the irony. The honest truth was that I felt like being a little self-destructive. Allowed the grip of the past to dim my mood and fall into bad habits.


    Juvenile to lash out and sulk over the first push-back against my ever-increasing need to unhinge my jaw and swallow down whatever life could give me. Part of me was annoyed that the super didn¡¯t have my back, the other part grumbling because she might have been right.


    Didn¡¯t matter anymore.


    My bike rolled to a stop, and I switched it off. The city at night had given me time to settle into familiarity. The shadows that hid my vocation and sins. Except where Boss had sent me, I had no such luck.


    Circled more to the north, near the outskirts, was a bar. The neon lights of the sign up top pulsed back and forth through each letter. Boozeslut. And I thought I was terrible at naming things. The text was accompanied by an approximation of a female figure in a state of undress, one eye winking on and off. Although I wasn¡¯t one to judge on physique, it looked as though she had been in an industrial accident that only left the most titillating parts of her body and long, pointed legs.


    It looked as good a place as any for my target to be holed up. Rough. Brash. Way too loud. Even as I parked up my bike and tried to calm my nerves about what I was about to do, a couple of sloshed patrons fell from the swinging-door entrance and stumbled down the road. Warmth and the raucous cheers of dozens of raised-voice conversations vomited from within, before the doors swung back shut.


    Despite requesting Boss gave me something to murder pronto, he had made the excuse that this was the only thing available on such short notice, but reassured me it had the promise of some violence if blowing off steam was my goal.


    And was it?


    In truth, I had tried not to think about it. People argued all the time, and on the surface of it, the disagreement I had with the super was rather petty. I may be a monster only barely crawling my way into a normal existence, but I understood that our spat was in part due to bad timing. A miscommunication that we were both too stubborn and blind to step away from in time, before the crash.


    Much like my current position. Target was a double-crossing informant. The where and why was not so important, but Boss needed to know who he had been blabbing to, and then I had permission to shut him up permanently. A bar was one of the most overt places I had ever been sent to. Perhaps typical that me having a night out would resort to some violence, and this seemed as good a place as any. Details were vague, any number of adult males fitting the scraps of information he had given me. A punishment, maybe.


    Ten-mag with Nerve. Ten-mag with Normal. Sideloader with three Smoke, and a good mix on my bandolier of anything opportune I could use. Didn¡¯t bring the drum as it deserved a night off and hopefully this wouldn¡¯t turn out that bad.


    As I moved off of the bike and took my first step toward the place, I wasn¡¯t too sure my hopes would have any effect. Shame.


    Smell of alcohol and unwashed bodies hit like a wave as I stepped up to the doors, the constant noise inside already grating on my nerves. As a man who shot first and asked questions introspectively the next day, this whole setup rubbed the fur in the wrong direction.


    Hand pushed the door, and I invited myself in.


    Not sure if it was ego, or some odd attachment I had to something cliche from my past, but I was almost disappointed when the place didn¡¯t go silent to observe my entrance. I tallied up another point toward wanting to destroy the building. I did receive plenty of glances, some more malicious than others, but otherwise I was allowed to walk myself up to the busy bar unaccosted.


    After squeezing in between one wide man who looked like a pirate, and the other who - oh, they both did. One on my left was just a boar-man rather than human. My eyes met the barkeep, and I realized another good reason why this wasn¡¯t the sort of place I often frequented.


    He was a tough, grisled looking character. All sinew and wiry muscles - clearly having worked this place for decades and seen his fair share of brawls. Eyepatch, thin white beard, and a fuzz of pale hair that was escaping from the top of his dome. Hands that looked like he climbed mountains every waking moment that he wasn¡¯t behind the bar soaking up alcohol like aged sawdust. Adverse to my expectations for this kind of venue, the man appeared to be wearing a nametag.


    Hurst. Which wasn¡¯t the worst name I¡¯d heard, but was close enough.


    ¡°What can I get¡¯ya?¡± he asked, barely audible despite half-shouting at me.


    I tilted my head to the side and showed him the nutrition canister.


    [Got anything that fits this?]


    He leaned across the bar and put a finger to my neck, his tongue working around his mouth to assist his thought process as his eye narrowed. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯ll cost ya, but I do. You looking for a buzz or to get fucked up?¡±


    My gaze went back out to the throng of cheering, laughing, and shouting people. All clustered around, enjoying their night out. Self destruction was one thing, but I was starting to take this a little personally. Almost regretted asking Boss for the job, now that I was potentially cooling off. But then what? I was just a machine built for violence anyway. If anything, this was exactly where I needed to be.


    [Fuck me up, please.]


    Empty can out. Swiped away some credits. Canister of a dark swirling liquid in.


    Other than my stims, I had spent the entirety of my hitman life avoiding drugs and alcohol. One reason was that my lack of proper mouth and dietary system just didn¡¯t work for that. I had never asked Boss for anything other than the basic nutritional variants of the canisters, because that was all that I needed. Already miserable and singularly focused, I didn¡¯t need a vice to drag me down and make me worse at my job.


    So why the change now? This was how a normal person functioned, right? The cold slime of my misplaced anger slunk through me at the same time as the alcohol did. Felt like more of a gel than any sort of liquor. I gave a nod to the barkeep and looked around for a table or somewhere to get a better vantage point.


    Ah, there, over by the left-hand wall. A pair of lizard-women were just leaving, allowing me to nab it if I were quick. I took a few steps between the nearest tables before someone stepped right in my way.


    [Excuse me.]


    ¡°Nah, you ain¡¯t excused.¡±


    I looked down at the man, who was at least a full head shorter than me. His eyes were glazed over, but his jaw was raring to be broken. Almost chewing on the inevitability. Short hair and stubble, leather wasitcoat and pants, but bare chest. Enough beer in him to make all of the above seem like a good decision.


    [Perhaps I will find a different route, then.]


    ¡°Oh, runnin¡¯ from me, are ya?¡±


    To the sides, I could see his fellow gormless drunkards leering, their eyes sparkling with amusement and the potential of violence. It wasn¡¯t beneath me to litter the ground with the teeth of the foolish, but a premature act might scare away my target from showing up. Oh, yeah - I was here for that.


    As the tentacled grip of the strange alcohol filtered up through my brain, I started to suspect I had made an error and things weren¡¯t going to go my way. Or¡­ no, things were going to get a lot worse for everyone involved.


    The little weasel saw my silence as contempt, which was probably the only accurate read he¡¯d have for the rest of the evening. Especially after I ruptured his eye sockets out.


    ¡°We don¡¯t like your kind around here, asshole.¡±


    I sighed.


    [Don¡¯t you think that kind of bigotry is cliche in this setting? You don¡¯t have to play the role of the cybernetic hating bully.]


    ¡°Cyber? Nah, me best lad is part cyborg, ya prick.¡± To our right, one of his companions waved a crude robotic hand at me. ¡°What we don¡¯t like is righteous fuckin¡¯ supers talking down to us.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Seems I had gotten the wrong end of the stick, although both ends were covered in shit. Any minor elation over being recognized as a superhero was washed down quicker than my canister liquid. The first time I¡¯d been truly out and overt in my current super suit outfit. And it had almost immediately gotten me into trouble.


    [I didn¡¯t talk to anyone before you got in my way.]


    ¡°Yeah, but you ain¡¯t here for any good reason. You gonna arrest me, super shit?¡±


    The gaggle of laughter from his audience only drew my notice to the fact that we had a lot more eyes on us the longer that this charade went on. I had been able to get away with my appearance before he has said the s word - and now I was front and center to something soon to get very violent if I couldn¡¯t diffuse the situation.


    As if I wanted to diffuse it.


    [Arrest? No, you¡¯d just turn up dead and be written off as collateral.]


    ¡°A threat?¡± His hand down by his hip revealed a flick-blade that popped out. ¡°Might want to reconsider your tone.¡±


    Considering he thought I was a superhero, it seemed shortsighted to then threaten me with a short blade. Was this the kind of action a man too deep in the booze took? Was I soon to follow? Probably, as the edges of my peripheral were getting a little fuzzy. And I felt¡­ different.


    Like I craved violence.


    I leaned forward, my eyes behind my goggles, glaring at his. Such an easy twig to break. And then the whole forest will be set alight, no doubt. Still riding the high of deconstructing the Five Eyes, I had little doubt I¡¯d come out of a bar brawl the victor. Left hand tensed as I was about to make my opening move.


    Before a hand rested on my shoulder.


    ¡°Actually, he¡¯s with me.¡±


    A voice I recognized, and even the bleary eyes of my would-be opponent had no difficulty knowing who it was. I turned my head to the side.


    Captain Roy Snaps.


    Some intrigue in his eyes, alongside a cocky smile, but he gave me a pat and gestured over to the corner where a door lay. ¡°Let¡¯s get you out of the riff-raff, big guy.¡±


    My plan for the evening was very much torn to shreds and thrown in the trash. I shrugged and relented to follow him. Gave the small fry a glare as I left. He still had dues to pay - the table I wanted had been taken during our verbal scuffle. He¡¯d fucking pay.


    Boots shuffled a little, as I didn¡¯t have full control over my capabilities. Ah, now I remembered another reason for my aversion to mind-altering substances. The fact that I had several parts of me guided by my mental acuity. Odd that it was just a brief conversation with Roxy that somehow led me so astray from normal procedure.


    Wasn¡¯t sure what that really said about me.


    Captain pushed through the small door which led to a lounge. A wide space more sparsely lit, round tables and plush seating populated by people not shouting their lungs out. Perhaps the speedster could be my new best friend. There was an air of peace here, and a smell of more refined wood and incense rather than sweat and cheap ale.


    ¡°Odd place to find you,¡± he said, turning his head to me as we walked over to an empty table. ¡°Almost didn¡¯t recognize you if it weren¡¯t for that industrial dildo you carry around.¡±


    [I¡¯ve had something of a glow-up.]


    ¡°Fuck, you sure have. Rox must really have you by the balls. You want anything?¡± He gestured to the seat before he waved over whatever the bar lounge equivalent of a waiter was.


    I tapped the side of my neck as I pushed my way onto the chair.


    [Already soaking in enough regrets for the evening.]


    He had taken me away from a fight I really wanted, but in truth, this might be the correct place to find the informant. I wasn¡¯t even aware of a back room, so I tried to keep my eyes open. More the fool me if I had caused a scene out front and thought I¡¯d scared the target off, when they were hiding here all along.


    Lighting made it difficult to pick out specific figures, so I turned my attention to the super, who slid into seating almost opposite me.


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit.¡± He murmured something to the waiter, and they gave him a nod before moving away. ¡°This area is membership only, but since you¡¯re with me, it¡¯s fine.¡± His grin widened.


    [I appreciate it, Captain.]


    ¡°You can call me Roy, you ass. I know your sidekick bullshit isn¡¯t finished yet, but you¡¯re one of us now, in my eyes.¡±


    I tilted my head at the odd comaraderie the speedster was giving me. At first he had wanted to pick a fight with me, but now I was family? An odd leap that I didn¡¯t trust, and not just because the edges of his face were as wiggly as the furniture.


    [Hopefully I can be done with them soon and prove my worth.]


    Roy nodded slowly. ¡°You didn¡¯t shit yourself with the monster, so your metal dick isn¡¯t just for show. Makes me wonder¡­¡±


    [Oh?]


    ¡°An effective machine like you doesn''t just appear out of the woodwork. Got Roxy singing your praises and League licking your ass. You didn¡¯t back down from me, which means you¡¯re either thick as shit or death doesn¡¯t bother you.¡±


    [Comes for us all eventually.]


    He again nodded, supping up my answer, before a wide smile returned to his face. ¡°I used to be brazen as goat balls when League first took me in.¡± The speedster gestured back with his thumb. ¡°Illegal fighting rings, street fights, any brawl I could get myself in. I¡¯m an angry fucker and got addicted to the violence.¡±


    [Perhaps we are not so different.]


    Roy gave me a wink. ¡°I figured as much. My manager has my balls in a vice so I can¡¯t play anymore. But¡­ I bet you could if you wanted.¡±


    I flexed my fingers out. If I had an idea to what he was insinuating, then that could possibly distract me from my actual target and contract. That said, it sounded fun, and I was full to the gills with alcohol induced bravado. A need to work off the awkward situation with the super back home.


    [Is it here? Tonight? I''m in.]


    He chuckled and ran his tongue across his lips. ¡°Not sure why Rox likes you so much, and I feel like I¡¯ve said balls too much already tonight. But it¡¯s probably those, right? Huge ones. Real weighty fuckers.¡±


    [What do you think of Roxy?]


    ¡°Ah,¡± he pulled a face and sat back, his hand drumming on the table. ¡°In some ways, she is too good for the group - could get some better supers to party with. But¡­ she just doesn¡¯t play well with League rules. Hates them, in fact, so she is always in their bad books. As a person¡­ I wouldn¡¯t even think bad things about a woman who could literally tear me a new asshole."


    I grunted and looked out around the shaded room. Waiter was returning with a tray, a glass with ice next to a bottle of something on it. The League wanted their heroes to be set pieces. Merchandise. Assets to do heroics a certain way when they said¡­ but she was a loose cannon. An effective one, too. Paired with me, she¡­


    Shook those thoughts from my head and watched the server place down the items in front of Roy.


    ¡°Cheers.¡± The speedster gave a nod of thanks. ¡°You guys accepting challengers tonight, Mack?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir. I believe the picks for the battle royale will be made soon.¡±


    ¡°Shit! What do you say, Dubs? That was your name, right?¡±


    [You can call me Gunquake, and I will partake in the battle.]


    Pretty terrible idea, all things considered. I had been pulled away from some cathartic violence once, so his offer of something more refined and structured seemed like a decent apology.


    ¡°Excellent. Mack, sign up Gunquake and put fifty big ones on him winning for me.¡±


    ¡°Sir.¡± The waiter bowed deeply before moving away again.


    [So eager to lose your money? That is a lot of confidence on an unknown.]


    ¡°Nah.¡± He tapped on the table. ¡°You might live clean now, but the stench of death never really leaves you. You¡¯re a scrapper - I can tell. There¡¯s no chance you¡¯d go down in the group fight. Maybe after that I¡¯ll hedge my bets for the single bouts.¡±


    [I have to win the group fight to challenge proper fighters?]


    ¡°Got it in one.¡±


    [Perhaps... I have a proposition for you?]


    He slouched in his chair and drew the bottle towards himself. ¡°I don¡¯t fuck with meaty metal men, sorry.¡±


    [If I beat the champion, you¡¯ll vouch for me to be on your team as a proper super.]


    Roy stared at me for a handful of seconds, bringing the drink up to his lips for a couple of gulps before lowering it. ¡°You ain¡¯t shitting me, are you? Huh. I mean, my word doesn¡¯t mean shit unless the League rubberstamps your puckered asshole first, but you know what? Sure, Gunquake. If you think you can, and do, then I will figuratively suck your dick.¡±


    [Nice of you to confirm that it was only figuratively. I assume then that the champion is quite the piece of work?]


    ¡°They¡¯re a super.¡± His grin soured as his need to see me suffer overrode the potential of getting paid from me winning. ¡°All three are, but they¡¯re not that strong. It¡¯s illegal, of course.¡±


    So they were either villains, ¡®villains¡¯, or heroes moonlighting on the sly.


    [Ground rules?]


    ¡°Well, can¡¯t shoot people for one.¡± His fingers tapped on the bottle. ¡°Not in the battle royale. Can¡¯t kill people neither. Accidents happen, but there are punishments for being sloppy.¡±


    I nodded along with the rules, but had started to check out. If I got caught in an illegal fighting ring, then my sidekick application might be as dead in the water as the League would make me soon after. Roy might have even more trouble if caught encouraging me.


    ¡°Group is full of reprobates. No angels sit around punching each other for a bit of scratch.¡± He gestured with his hand. ¡°Or to get off on it, as we do.¡±


    [I wouldn¡¯t go that far.]


    ¡°Nah, I saw your body language out the front. You were about to crush the head of that cockroach, and for what? Interrupting your night out? I know you don¡¯t have superpowers, but you ain¡¯t human either.¡±


    My mood cooled off, which just made me feel a little sick. I should have brought a normal canister so that I could purge some of this filth out of my system. Too late. I had made several bad choices this evening and wasn¡¯t about to stop now.


    [Take me there.]


    ¡°Alright, cool it.¡± Roy looked over to watch the waiter, who appeared to be on a phone or similar device. ¡°They¡¯ll tell us when it¡¯s time. Can¡¯t believe you are so eager to lose my money.¡±


    [I¡¯m more surprised you had that amount to waste on seeing the shit being beaten out of me. Although, perhaps that is worth the price of admission?]


    Another shit-eating grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward across the table. ¡°It¡¯s a little of that, sure¡­ but I make a bit extra on the side. I¡¯m sure now that we¡¯re bedfellows in this muck you can keep that to yourself?¡±


    I hadn¡¯t committed myself to doing any foul deeds at present, although that was a lie, because I wanted to fight. Something that didn¡¯t involve murder, so we could at least excuse the legality to settle for something morally gray for a change. I almost convinced myself. Still, he didn¡¯t know what I was yet.


    [Not sure I could stomach doing further violence outside of the League¡¯s prying eyes.]


    ¡°Eh, I doubt that.¡± He caught the eye of Mack, who gesture to the speedster. Roy stood and stretched his neck out. ¡°Plus, it¡¯s just information exchange, nothing dangerous. Perhaps if you play your cards right and work my balls a little, I¡¯ll put you in contact with my boss.¡±


    For what seemed like five minutes, I let that sentence settle into my sewage outlet of a brain.


    Unable to come up with an immediate response, I stood very slowly and followed him away from the table.

 47 - Transparency

    It had to be a coincidence.


    My mind swam, and there was no lifeguard on duty. Captain Snaps didn¡¯t seem to be able to feel the burning glare I had focused on the back of his head. I checked my memory to make sure my fuzzed brain wasn¡¯t just pairing up close-enough pointers to make a fact.


    Boss was a very vague noun, my assumption being my employer wanted to obscure their identity. I wasn¡¯t able to hear the capitalization in the speedster''s tone, so it would be a leap to think that his ''boss'' was the same boss as my Boss.


    That said¡­ he did fit the generic description I had been given for the contract. And he had all but admitted to being an informant. If that was the case, then who was he double-crossing with? The League sounded obvious enough, but it seemed too¡­ I couldn¡¯t swallow it down, for a variety of reasons.


    Mind wasn¡¯t focused much on my surroundings. A few tables blurred by as we passed, the furniture and occupants too dimly lit amongst the smokey atmosphere to register as anything of importance. Roy stopped at a doorway and either swiped something or pressed a keypad. Maybe both - but his speed and my drunk-adjacent senses didn¡¯t catch it.


    Door opened up and led us down some stairs. Plainer brickwork compared to the attempt at decent decor above. Cooler air, although not so fresh. Down and around, and there was a second door - this one covered by an armed guard. Rough looking slab of meat with plenty of scars and a shotgun across his chest. Big guy gave Roy a nod, dark eyes lingering on me for a second before he let us through.


    And there it was.


    Wasn¡¯t too sure what I had expected, really. Despite my profession taking me adjacent to the criminal underworld on occasion, I couldn¡¯t recall many times I¡¯d seen an illegal fighting ring. Directly to my right were rows of benches that rose up one behind the other. Already a few groups sitting and talking amongst themselves. Mostly a bunch of dark suits, wavering smoke clouds, and tightly maintained facial hair. Dirty money people who knew how to spend it to look good. My eyes didn¡¯t linger on them for too long, just in case my trigger finger got extra itchy.


    Focus was drawn to what these benches were facing.


    A wall of glass - probably Vibrex. Reinforced to stop not only bullets, but a decent amount of weaker super powers. On the other side of this transparent barrier was just a plain, open room. Gray stone all around, about twenty feet wide and thirty deep. Suspiciously clean, although it probably wasn¡¯t basic concrete either. Also filled with a handful of occupants already.


    ¡°You¡¯re on the cusp of registration, Roy. But we¡¯ll make an exception.¡± One of the suited individuals stepped down from the benches. Pencil mustache, deep tan, wrinkled, eyes a surprisingly vibrant purple. Slicked back hair and an aura of cologne.


    Didn¡¯t recognize him, but I bet a good coroner would soon enough. Oh, this alcohol wasn¡¯t good for my impulses.


    ¡°I¡¯m always on time, Romanov.¡± Roy gave the man a wink. ¡°Perks of my ability.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. Who is this Gunquake, then?¡± His eyes ran me up and down. ¡°Dressed like a super, but isn¡¯t on the roster you gave me. Armed like they rolled off the last cyberwar battlefield. And¡­ the amount of money you bet on him passing the battle royale¡­ are you trying to pull something, Roy?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s just a tough nut to crack. Wants to be a sidekick, so he is more than he looks.¡±


    [The difficult part will be not killing everyone in this room.]


    They both looked at me as if I had said something crazy, when it had just been a portent of things to come if they didn¡¯t hurry the fuck up. I was still on edge about standing next to someone Boss potentially wanted me to kill, who was also my friends¡¯ teammate and an actual fucking superhero.


    Even if I wanted to, I didn¡¯t have my anti-speedster gear set up or on me. What kind of example would I be setting for the squad to go in half-cocked? Plus, I wasn¡¯t even sure I even wanted to tread that route. I was sweating up something fierce.


    ¡°You¡¯re not tipping the pot here, Roy?¡± Romanov raised an eyebrow while still staring at me. ¡°You know the limits on power.¡±


    ¡°No super powers and he knows not to use his gun. Right, Gunquake?¡±


    I winced, before realizing that was my dumbass name now. Not sure I appreciated the question. Or the way their bodies were starting to swirl around my vision.


    [Not even less-than-lethal ammunition?]


    The suited pre-corpse shook his head. ¡°Not for the first round, friend. We¡¯ll see how you do. Of course, you can always back out if you don¡¯t think you¡¯re up to the task.¡±


    My eyes narrowed at the huddle of figures on the other side of the glass. I was sure I had seen five a minute ago, but now there were¡­ double or triple that - was hard to tell when they kept shifting. I had ways of making them stay still.


    [Subdue and debilitate. Not an issue.]


    ¡°We have a healer out here, so you can rough them up a bit, but not murder.¡± Romanov adjusted his suit and looked over at my opponents. ¡°Melee weapons are fine. Last one standing wins. Any other questions?¡±


    Other than wondering if I had hit my peak of drunkenness or I was still in for a rougher ride, it all seemed simple. A solo mission was a rarity, but as they weren¡¯t strong supers, I¡¯d have no trouble taking them in. My brow furrowed, and I stooped closer to Roy.


    [Permission to leave my ammunition with you, Captain?]


    Although I didn¡¯t really want to call him captain as that was my¡­ did I even have¡­ thoughts collided, but sank away into the thick sludge of my mind.


    ¡°Sure.¡± His facial expression didn¡¯t seem that keen, but it was probably a nicer one than for if I decided to blow it clean off his skull.


    I had clocked that several of the suits were armed. Either their more casually dressed bodyguards had firearms, or they had pistols or the like on their hips. Didn¡¯t really have the desire to take a few shots to punch some criminals who I had no reason to tangle with. Why was I even here? At first it was to burn off some of the self inflicted anger at having a slight fallout with Roxy, but now it had turned into¡­ passing the time until I could decide how to deal with Roy.


    Handed over my belt and bandolier. Removed my goggles and winced at how bright everything was. Didn¡¯t need any distractions. Clacked the chamber back and forth to check it was empty, and half the room twitched at the sound. I stood by the clear door, and the speedster gave me a pat on the back.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Dubs. Win or lose, I won¡¯t tell Rox what you got up to. Our little secret.¡±


    Perhaps I would feel a little worse about the situation if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that she already knew what I was. Had witnessed me murder a criminal and still fallen for me.


    The door opened, and I was allowed entry to my next big mistake for the evening.


    I wavered slightly as my sense of balance was slightly off, before shuffling myself into the empty gray room. Door shut behind me and a lock clunked shut. If the eyes of my prey weren¡¯t already sizing me up beforehand, they definitely were now.


    Spread at an approximately equal distance apart was a rogue¡¯s gallery of five soon-to-be broken bodies. My vision had focused enough to count them, but their physical details were on the fuzzy side. I was in the left corner closest to the glass, due to that being where the door was.


    Over to my direct right in the opposite corner was a man taller than me and almost as scarred. The lack of a shirt seemed like a terrible idea in this kind of situation, but how else would he show off what I assumed to be a shag carpets worth of body hair? The glint of his hands told the tale that he had knuckle dusters or something similar.


    Closest to my left was a lizardwoman¡­ as far as I could tell. A snake-like head, however, and two tails for some reason. Thought it was my wavering eyesight at first, but no. Each one ended in something pointed, while she had a curved short-sword in her right hand. Left was wrapped in metal plating like a gauntlet. Offense and defense, that was smart.


    A voice crackled through some unseen speaker in the walls. Telling us to prepare and to go on the buzzer. I wavered in place, my sense of balance a little rough around the edges. Tried to get a good look at the other combatants, but other than being people shaped, I couldn¡¯t draw any more defined picture. One might have a hammer?


    Another whine from the walls, and a trill tone echoed around our space. Violence time.


    As soon as the sound rang out, the lizardwoman went for me. A couple of strides that my eyes saw as a blur, and then her sword swung. Blocked it with my gun-arm, a metallic clang ringing out, just as the two dart-like blades on her tails lashed out as a follow-up.


    First tore at my super suit but did no damage. The second pierced straight into my left arm. Before I could retaliate, the hairy muscle-head from the right slammed into her, knuckle duster striking her in the scaled torso and knocking her away. He then promptly shoulder tackled me, pushing me back until we hit the transparent wall.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I delivered a knee to his stomach just as he struck me in the side with his fist. Before he had time for the second, the lizardwoman was back. Tail slashed my shoulder, flicking my blood across the glass. The man blocked the sword but received the other tail-blade across his right forearm.


    Both of them were blurry messes, which made things awkward for me. Already bloodied against two opponents much better equipped for melee brawling. I was starting to regret everything that led to this point. But mostly the alcohol.


    As long as I made it out of here with my brain and ego intact, perhaps I would sit and reflect on my choices. Of course, what to do with Roy and Boss was probably the biggest one, and one not made yet - which again, the alcohol wasn¡¯t helping.


    Hairy roared and brought both fists up, clearly angered at his blood being drawn. Although I couldn¡¯t see his Threat Level, my sixth sense told me he was powering up.


    I looked at the lizardwoman and gestured to the man with my head. A nod was returned and a brief alliance was formed.


    Gun-arm lashed forward, which Hairy deflected with a spark from his weapon. Left him open for the sword, which he barely stepped back away from. My left fist came in, which he blocked with crossed forearms - while the tail-blades jabbed into his leg and side. He punched out, a clash of metal with his right, and then the same for his left as we both blocked him.


    My foot came out and kicked him back, before I slid across the floor toward him. Sword flashed through the air just above me, a crimson gash forming across the man¡¯s stomach.


    V-Force drive powered up as I stood and fired. The ball of energy tore the wound open, the flaps of skin exposing and allowing his entrails free. He clutched at them as my eyes swam, making the fleshy tubes look like bloodied snakes excited for a day out.


    Turned a bit too late with my lagging brain and the lizardwoman jabbed me through the side, narrowly avoiding slotting through my ribs and into some prized internal organs. As I blocked the tail-blades, she leveled a kick of her own, sending me back against the glass wall once again.


    I could hear the dulled murmurs and excited conversations of the watchers behind me. Didn¡¯t have the time or the mental focus to see how the other three were faring, but Hairy was definitely out for the count.


    The lizardwoman leaned back before she intended to lunge and skewer me.


    As the last of my foul canister seeped out and into my bloodstream, something else went along with it. A cold sensation through my neck. Another little piece of familiarity.


    With it came a very thin slice of focus. As if my subconscious had been storing up information now chose this millisecond to vomit it forth, clarity even despite my inebriated state.


    My opponent was actually rather sluggish with her sword strikes, using the weaker tail-blades to exhaust and needle me and make up for the attack speed. Slightly higher than average strength, but not even on a bottom-tier super level. Although her tail strikes covered a lot of weaknesses, the true disadvantage was her footwork. Often when using her tails she would shift to the side slightly to get a better reach, and usually to the right so that her sword could protect her flank.


    Just as soon as the breakdown flashed across my mind, it left and the haze of my previous regretful state sunk back in.


    I rolled across the glass as her lunge struck the Virbrex instead, scraping but not even leaving a scratch. As I lashed back with my gun-arm, I didn¡¯t even wait for the guaranteed block before I feinted into a kick to her closest leg.


    She stepped back on awkward footing. V-Force drive powered up again. Her arms came on to protect her face, while her tail-blades came at me. I instead went low and struck her in the leg again. Weakened now. Not broken, but numb and painful, I was sure. After my strike, I stepped back away - proud owner of a few more gashes.


    Could see the stress and panic in her eyes even in my state. The lizardwoman went to close the gap, but her inert leg wouldn¡¯t do so. My gaze went past her now, to see how the rest of the combatants were faring.


    There was her mistake.


    Worried that she would get pinned between two of us with no easy way to move, her head briefly turned to make sure I wasn¡¯t looking at one of the other assholes coming to join the fray. That was all the time I needed.


    Lashed forward across the space I had made. Only just covering the distance I had planned out, the end of my barrel struck her on the chin. Not enough to break her jaw, but the force twisted her scaled head and her brain hit the sleep button.


    Looked ahead at the other side of the room. One figure was lying on the ground already, a pool of blood around them as they clutched at their head. Of the two still standing, one looked to be hobbled after taking a nasty blow from the hammer in the other¡¯s hand. My feet took me across the room as he raised the weapon up for the finishing blow.


    Head turned too late. A rough man with scarred lines down his face, and the stench of cigarettes on his clothes. I collided with him, pushing and lifting him up into the air, before spiking him down onto the floor.


    As he recovered, I turned and lashed out with my elbow, knocking out the other fighter I had just saved. Looked as though Hammer had been cleaning house. Turned back to him and he¡¯d already rolled back up to his feet.


    Some mania in his eyes. Pin-pricks of light that wavered via my drunken mind. Made him seem like a ghost, or something possessed. He was a killer, I could tell. You don¡¯t deal that amount of physical harm to someone¡¯s skull with a hammer and not question your humanity without some hard-won experience.


    Not a super, but the cracks running through my dehydrating brain allowed me to paint him as a villain.


    One I couldn¡¯t kill, but those were flimsy rules.


    Quicker than expected, he launched at me, swinging his weapon around. Blocked it with the flat of my gun-arm, the impact vibrating through my cybernetics. My left hand grabbed out at his shirt and I pulled him in for a headbutt. Broken nose, but it didn¡¯t phase him. His return strike was faster than I could reposition, and it struck my organic elbow. Numbed.


    In seeing my limb briefly falter, he sought to gain some advantage, and his left hand came up to grab at my shotgun - perhaps hoping to hold it back so he could pulp in my deserving skull with the hammer.


    Chamber clacked open and his clumsy grasp had his fingers wrap around inside.


    Chamber clacked close with prejudice. Severed fingertips danced around my barrel as he growled and stepped back in shock. V-Force drive hummed to me - a resounding symphony punctuated with a blast. The organic ammunition cut into his face and raised forearm, mostly spattering mulched flesh across him.


    Allowed me to lash forth, catching the weapon and knocking it from his hand. As it clattered to the stone floor off to the side, the desire for my demise bloomed much brighter in his eyes. Rather than lose faith, he redoubled efforts to win, and launched himself into me.


    Now too close for me to swing my arm at him, his good hand pawed at my face, while his other arm wrapped me in a hug. I closed my eyes as his probing fingers sought to gouge them out.


    Trouble was, Roxy happened to like them.


    Boot slammed down on his foot as stims washed through me. They didn¡¯t mix well with the alcohol, and I found my mood souring at record rate. Another headbutt followed by a repeat until his grip around my back loosened. A kick sent him free, his attempt to blind me fruitless.


    As he stumbled back and tried to regain his senses, I caught his outstretched left hand. Pulled it out straight as I twisted my body and struck the back of his elbow with my metal arm. Satisfying crunch as it broke. Swift kick to the back of his knee as I twisted the shattered arm, and he dropped.


    Released the arm. V-Force drive powered up. As he glanced up at me, his face a blooded mess, the end of my barrel pressed into his eye. Fit his socket rather well.


    Synapse controlled limbs and attachments were difficult to control. It took years of conscious effort to ensure I had mastered the aspect. Even injured, the warmth of my blood running through my suit. Even drunk, the foul liquid imbibed, messing with my ability to focus. Even with the memories of my past screaming in the background making me want to kill and maim.


    I held steady and did not rupture both his eyes and brains into mush.


    ¡°I yield, I yield.¡± The words came from his mouth accompanied by a fresh river of blood.


    ¡°Gunquake is the winner. All fighters stand down.¡±


    My gun remained in place for a couple of seconds as I stared the man down. V-Force said a soft farewell as I allowed it to power down, and I removed the barrel from his eye.


    Turned to see the door open, and a handful of people dressed in medical aprons moved their way in to tend to the wounded. Some of them were close to death. Only a matter of luck or time that they didn¡¯t shuffle off this mortal plane.


    Sounds were still reverberating around my head, as if my brain was playing out a more protracted battle. Eyes caught the speedster standing by the Vibrex wall, looking pleased as a peach.


    Not wanting to look at my masterwork any longer, I left the chamber.


    Something had kicked in during the fight, and I had to decompress and have a think about it. It wasn¡¯t Reflex, but something similar. Another dollop of my past role? In seeing how the lizardwoman fought, my brain had taken all the internalized thoughts on her fighting style and info-dumped them in a more externalized fashion.


    Slowly becoming a begrudging expert at naming things, I pinned this act as Analyze. Something to talk to Clara about later on¡­ assuming I had any unburned bridges remaining at the end of the night.


    ¡°Fantastic work, Dubs.¡± Roy looked me up and down, unsure if a hug was appropriate given that I had just won him a sizable bag of credits. ¡°Knew you had the fuckin¡¯ balls for it, but actually seeing it¡­ it¡¯s clear you¡¯re not as green as your suit, ay?¡±


    [I hope I¡¯m getting more out of this than just scars and catharsis?]


    ¡°Of course. Other than my word to have you in our group¡­ I can hook you up with that contact I was mentioning.¡± He gave me a wink. ¡°Probably has lots of work for a fuckin¡¯ tank like you, if it¡¯s credits you want.¡±


    I grunted. Didn¡¯t care much for piddling fighting pit money. Cared even less for him telling me that Boss was a neat friend to have. That would make things difficult.


    ¡°Impressive, Gunquake.¡±


    We turned to see Romanov step back down to us, some of the suits in the background looking rather sour that their potential winnings had evaporated.


    ¡°It¡¯s not often we have someone new turn up and show up the regulars. You were too impatient to stand around for healing?¡±


    I turned my gaze over to the fighting room to see that there had been six healers, the one probably assigned to me was now just helping put the intestines back into the hairy guy. Looked back down at myself. Sporadic puncture wounds, and some cuts. Bruising probably around my elbow in time, but movement had returned.


    [I usually get more cuts shaving.]


    A wry smile curled up beneath his pencil mustache. ¡°A little bravado, too. We like that - although I hope it isn¡¯t short lived. You are free to fight the proper bouts once you are ready.¡±


    In truth, I didn¡¯t feel most of my injuries. Whether that was a mix of my stims with the alcohol, or I was just too numb to my body being put through absolute hell that anything less than life-threatening didn¡¯t move the needle, I wasn¡¯t sure.


    Did I want to fight tougher opponents? In a way, yes - always.


    My anger over the petty argument with Roxy had washed away shortly after breaking the hammer guy¡¯s arm. For all intents and purposes, I was content enough that I had been a jerk and that violence had grounded me. I could go home to¡­ the shack, and sleep off the rest of my problems.


    The only thing pinning me here was the speedster. Boss¡¯s contract. Sitting around twiddling my thumbs wasn¡¯t winning me any satisfaction. As always, I had to act and force a solution.


    ¡°You up for it then, big guy?¡± The speedster raised an eyebrow as we watched the suited man walk away. ¡°No pressure, but if you have the stomach for it, we could make a killing with the credits. They¡¯re still unsure about you - but the next three fights are rough motherfuckers.¡±


    [May I have my goggles back?]


    ¡°Oh, sure. The sight of the atrocities you commit a little much?¡± He gave me a grin before retrieving the item from the bunch I had left with him.


    [I just wanted to whisper you some sweet nothings, but cannot lower my voice enough to have that intimate privacy you deserve.]


    He rolled his eyes. ¡°Flattering, Dubs. If I ever wanted Rox to tear my spine out, I¡¯d reciprocate. I gave you a lot of shit at first,¡± he watched me put my goggles back on, ¡°but you¡¯re kinda alright. I can see us becoming pals in time.¡±


    Gunquake: If you are acting as an informant for Boss then he knows you are double crossing him.


    Gunquake: He sent me here to kill you.


    I watched the color drain from the man¡¯s face as his eyes focused on his chat window. Any bravado and coy amusement completely sunk away.


    Gunquake: You have until I win my next fight to decide what you want to do.


    Gunquake: Might want to fast track that friendship.

 48 - Applying Pressure

    I took the risk and forced the action. Now as I looked back through the Vibrex glass at the speedster sitting on the bench, it seemed the unflappable had become flapped.


    Although it seemed like I was putting the ball in his court, I also needed the time to think as well. What better way to clear my mind than having the shit beaten out of me? Roy had been pretty silent after I had laid the cards out. Didn¡¯t even have the courage to respond to my chat message.


    The organizers of the fight had removed the bodies from the battle royale part, most of the conscious participants giving me a glare as they were led out. After that, I was allowed to reenter as they brought out whoever needed hitting in the face with an empty shotgun.


    If Roy wanted to kill me off, he was welcome to try. Either through tipping the scales of one of my pit fights, or doing the deed himself - I wasn¡¯t equipped to go against a speedster of his level. If Boss was keen to hit two of his action figures together, so be it.


    But I was gambling on two things.


    The first was that despite being a huge asshole, the Captain was still a superhero at heart. More likely to turn on Romanov, who I was pretty sure was the other partner in the double-crossing. The man had mentioned Roy had given him a roster of supers, which could only be for nefarious purposes.


    The second thing was how the speedster wouldn¡¯t shut up about how he wouldn¡¯t want to go against Roxy. I wasn¡¯t going to use the word afraid, but I was willing to be he would avoid fighting me at all costs - just in case she got wind and wanted to bend his ear clean off.


    Not to mention how the League would view all of this.


    Oh, and Boss, I supposed.


    Any further deliberation grinding around in my head ceased as my opponent was led past the benches and towards the door.


    An ogre, perhaps. A good head taller than me and muscular, but bald. Lumpy with scars. Also similar to me was his one arm. Severed at his right elbow, he instead had a thick metal chain ending with a spiked ball that almost dragged across the floor. Not an easy weapon to use, unless he could keep me at mid range. Which is where I¡¯d like to be if I had any ammunition I was allowed to use.


    I circled around to near the back of the room, allowing him to find a comfortable position near the glass. He looked tough, and I didn¡¯t rate my chances of just bludgeoning him to death too highly. Plus, I wasn¡¯t supposed to kill him.


    There were notifications in my lense. Messages. Not from Boss, so I dismissed them. Despite all the complications and relationships worming their way into my life, it was important I let my aching brain focus on the two important problems before me.


    Winning this fight and making Roy my friend.


    While the stims hadn¡¯t played nicely with the alcohol in my system, as soon as the adrenaline of battle wore off, the last drops of my wavering mind had sobered up. Now I just felt dry and irritable. Wasn¡¯t worth the credits spent on it. Any assistance it gave to weakening the barrier between present me and the old me who knew Analyze wasn¡¯t worth it. No doubt I¡¯d have worked out it on my own, eventually.


    Apt that I was full of sour grapes with my new opponent looking to crush me. A whine when I¡¯d already re-sworn off liquor.


    I was well aware that engaging in these fruitless battles would give the speedster time to escape or work something out in his favor. In reality, that was the point. I was testing him to see if he was worthy of Roxy¡¯s group, and didn¡¯t want him to vouch for me solely on an underhand deal.


    The buzzer screamed through the featureless room, and it was time to dance again. But now I was calmer. More focused. A rough blade that needed sharpening.


    Ogre roared and took a couple of large steps toward me. Right arm lagged behind so he could draw the spiked ball back, ready to thrust it at me. As expected, really.


    Didn¡¯t matter if I was a hero killer, anti-villain enforcement, or a soldier that went after rogue supers. My cybernetic resurrection had all but distilled my prior purpose down to one simple instruction.


    Kill.


    This was just a performance piece to let Captain Snaps know what I truly was. How close he was to circling the whirlpool before I could drag him down. There was no doubt that if he had the stomach and foresight, he could kill me with little issue.


    But he was an experienced fighter himself. The reason why he turned to a panicked ghost instead of starting planning for my demise was he saw the potential in me. A cockroach that wouldn¡¯t die, but kept on marching against all odds.


    I stepped back. The ogre kept on coming. Arm lashed forward and the ball and chain whizzed toward me. A step to the side and it struck the wall with a heavy clang. I grabbed the chain and swung at him with my shotgun. He grabbed the muzzle in his other hand.


    A test of strength I was sure to lose.


    He slowly twisted my gun-arm away to the side, opening up my torso for attack. His large head darted forward and he bit at my left shoulder. Teeth not sharp enough to pierce my super suit, but the pressure caused me to let go of the chain to try to push his face away. He then punched me with the stump end, knocking some of the air from my lungs.


    I kicked out at his knee, and he didn¡¯t budge. Shotgun was still firmly in his grip and every so slowly being pulled away to the side. Jaw wouldn¡¯t let me go. Re-breather whirred as he prepared a second punch into my gut, and my hand went up to his clammy face. Thumb searched for a grip in his eye socket.


    He wouldn¡¯t allow it and released his bite to move away. I stepped closer to the right to relieve the tension in my twisting arm, before jumping up and grabbing his limb. With all my weight, I pulled him to the floor. The Ogre stumbled before tripping over me, landing on the concrete with a thud and releasing his grip.


    Immediately, I rolled to the side to avoid being pinned on the ground. I¡¯d not survive a protracted grappling session with the larger foe. Up on my feet, I turned and kicked the spiked ball at him. Cut through my boot and into the top of my foot, but struck the ogre in the face.


    He wailed in pain and stumbled back up to his feet. Both lips now split across and bleeding, but nothing too dire. Angered him. Dulled the part of his brain trying to think about how he should approach me.


    The cool twist of Analyze brought the facts to light. He was strong in both close and mid-range. Normally a target I¡¯d engage from range with my shotgun, but this was testing how I would deal with being disarmed. I backpedaled and avoided the swing of the mace. Started putting as much distance as I could between us.


    He didn¡¯t like that and pursued, spinning a full circle with arm extended when he thought he¡¯d caught up. No, I was still too far. V-Force hummed into life as we got close to the glass wall. I ducked the swing, and the ball bounced from the Vibrex glass above me.


    Arm went up to grab the chain again, but he anticipated this. His bite came down on my left forearm. I anticipated his hand grabbing at my raised shotgun, so I feigned movements so that he grasped nothing but air.


    Next moment was a quick blur. A crack. The blast of my V-Force. Two loud gasps from two injured fighters.


    The ogre stumbled back and dropped to his knees, hand and stump grabbing for his throat. My left arm hung slack, broken. I stood there and caught my breath back, stims washing through me, as my opponent¡¯s eyes rolled back and he passed out. A few seconds after his body slumped to the floor, he took a loud gasp of air as his throat recovered from the force. Tough bastard.


    I turned my gaze to the door on the left as the medics rushed in.


    Masked man asked me if I wanted some bone healing juice, but I declined. Wouldn¡¯t heal up anytime soon anyway, and my stims were putting in solid effort. I pushed past them to leave toward the benches.


    Roy looked as though he had gone a few rounds himself, clearly not pleased at having to sweat out an answer to my weighted question.


    ¡°Is your arm okay?¡± he asked, brows furrowed.


    I flexed out my shotgun, tilting it side to side to observe it.


    [Seems fine.]


    ¡°Another decisive victory, Gunquake,¡± Romanov announced as he stepped back over to us. ¡°A shame about your arm. It would have been great to see how you fared against stiffer competition.¡±


    [I will still fight.]


    ¡°You cannot¡­¡± The suited man pulled a face and glanced at Roy. ¡°Even self-destructive tendencies have their limit. We cannot allow you to bout at a handicap.¡±


    [Alright. What if we upped the stakes? Do you have anyone on the roster who would fight to the death?]


    Romanov stared at me, his face unmoving. ¡°Let me confer with the others.¡±


    I nodded, and he departed.


    ¡°Dubs? What the fuck are you doing?¡± Roy was now sweating even more, but looked either concerned or annoyed.


    I leaned down closer to him.


    [No, Captain. What are you doing?]


    His jaw worked while his eyes tried to read the lack of expression on my face. He hadn¡¯t decided, but his indecision was also telling.


    Captain Snaps: If you expect me to go against them to stop your death bout, I won¡¯t.


    Gunquake: I expect nothing from you.


    Gunquake: Perhaps I will die, and you won¡¯t have to choose which side you are loyal to.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.Captain Snaps: Who are you loyal to?


    Gunquake: The person you are about to bet all your current winnings on.


    I stood up straight and stretched out. Loyalty was a rather mixed bag as of late. My interest in being a murder-tool for Boss was waning. Despite wanting to cozy up with the League, I also had plenty of disdain for their institution. Roxy and Clara¡­ well, this was all because of them, in some way.


    It wasn¡¯t enough that I kissed the asses of Roxy¡¯s team for the privilege of fighting alongside them. I had to trust any squad I was a part of. Bond with them through battle and blood so that we could rely on each other. That was a tough ask to expect from a bunch of self-serving jerkoffs, but I had my best interests in mind. I wasn¡¯t just hitching a ride with them. They were gaining a staunch and competent ally who would go to any lengths to win.


    Thus, I would put my life on the line in front of Roy. Go against my contract to show him my word was absolute.


    With a long sigh, I sat down beside him. The suits were having a heated discussion nearer the back. Would be a shame if they didn¡¯t let me do it, or they had nobody available willing to risk it all.


    ¡°Roxy would split my head in half if she found out you died because of some shitshow like this I dragged you to.¡± Roy shook his head and looked out at the glass room being tidied up.


    [You hold her views in such high regard?]


    ¡°She is the team leader.¡± He rolled his tongue across his teeth and lowered his gaze. ¡°We fought once, near the start of our group being put together. I pushed her buttons a little too far. Was a huge asshole, but you know - I had always picked fights with whoever and gotten away with it because I¡¯m a fast shit, right?¡±


    [But against her?]


    He looked at me briefly. ¡°An angry speedster is one thing, but an angry strength super is¡­ well, she didn¡¯t even have to lay a hand on me to make it clear she wasn¡¯t to be fucked with.¡±


    [Does she know you¡¯re¡­ moonlighting?]


    Roy shook his head, but didn¡¯t add context to my question in case we had prying ears on us. ¡°Maybe if you tap out and don¡¯t die for no reason, you can go tell her and earn some brownie points, huh?¡±


    I turned my gaze back to Romanov, who seemed to have gotten a consensus and was about to make his way back over to us.


    [I do not like you, Roy. Your overactive mouth is nothing but show. Perhaps sort out your own insecurities before trying to guide me on choices I am fully capable of making myself. Decide what you are, because I sure as fuck know what I am.]


    His mouth opened, genuine shock in his eyes, before the suit arrived and prevented him from making any kind of response.


    ¡°We have a fighter, Gunquake. I just wanted to confirm you were in the right state of mind to take on such a risk, not knowing your opponent.¡±


    [Do I get to size them up first?]


    He pulled a face and shrugged. ¡°I suppose an informed decision would be acceptable. You are at least not foolish enough to go in blind.¡± Romanov turned and clicked his fingers, gesturing to a man standing near the door.


    I could see Roy in my peripheral trying to dissuade me from continuing this charade by staring into the side of my head. Ball was already rolling, however. If he wanted to stop it, then he had to do something more than glare discreetly at me.


    All eyes then turned to the side as the door opened and my proposed opponent stepped through. A man just as willing to risk his life for whatever reason we could delude ourselves far enough with.


    A kindred spirit, almost. Cybernetics, although a lot more than I had and of worse grade. Right forearm and hand replaced with what looked like a pneumatic stake for breaking down rocks. Left hand was robotic, but had long and sharp digits - three and a thumb by my count. Half of his chest and face was dirty and scratched metal plating, a glowing red eye in place of his left.


    Strong, and already rather angry for some reason.


    Roy squirmed even more uncomfortably.


    ¡°This the runt that wants to fight me?¡± My potential killer asked, striding past the bodyguards to get a closer look at me. ¡°He¡¯s already fucked up and has no arm? This some kind of joke?¡±


    I rolled my eyes and looked down at Roy.


    [Unfortunately, despite my gasmask, I can still smell when someone has pissed themselves.]


    This seemed to irritate the half-metal man further, and he stepped right up to me - causing most of the armed suits in the room to tense up. Now just a foot away, he gave me a proper up and down while I returned a tired glare. Long day, I was starting to tire.


    ¡°No mouth for me to shut, but perhaps I can teach you one final lesson since you¡¯re so desperate to die.¡± He glared down at my one moveable arm. ¡°What¡¯s in the gun?¡±


    [I¡¯ve been using it unloaded.]


    He scoffed and shook his head. ¡°You will just punch and kick me? How about I let you fill up that sideloader?¡±


    Sounded too good to be true. I turned to Romanov and raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Nothing that can break the glass or obscure the arena, please. If Clyde is allowing that, then that is on his head.¡±


    The cyborg nodded. ¡°Gotta have a little fighting chance before I carve your brains out, ey?¡±


    [I didn¡¯t exactly come prepared for war, so I mostly have less-than-lethal or utility shells.]


    ¡°Pick what you like, mouthless.¡± Clyde grinned. ¡°I¡¯ve been shocked, burned, shot, and much worse, but I just don¡¯t die.¡±


    He moved away from me to head to the room where one of us would die, while a medic came over to me to put my left arm in a sling. After giving them a nod of thanks, I turned to the sweaty speedsters.


    [Do me the honors, Captain? I¡¯ll tell you when.]


    Begrudgingly, he gave me his assistance. Finger went round between my mags and bandolier and I gave him a brief nod when he got to what I wanted. He clicked them into my sideloader one by one. A very deliberate act that looked like he felt he was putting the nails in my coffin himself.


    [If I die, I want you to tell Rockslide that I¡­ no, nevermind.]


    ¡°Fuck off already.¡± He rubbed at his eyes. ¡°Still waiting for you to tell me this is all some sick joke.¡±


    [Two things you should know about me, Roy. I do not joke and I do not die¡­]


    I looked up as the medic moved away, to watch my opponent warm up. His stake-hand punctured back and forth in the air with a muted hiss.


    [¡­Unless it would be funny to do so.]


    Before he could respond, I stepped away from the benches and down into the room. Might as well get this over with. I needed sleep some way, and taking a sharp metal pole through my skull might be quicker than going home. Oh, to see Roy¡¯s face after I bit the dust, and he¡¯d have to live with the guilt. Truly a coldly served revenge after he baited me at the housewarming.


    Door shut behind me and locked, and I stepped over to the middle by the glass. Allowing me three shots was a mistake, but without them I would have had zero chance of survival. Clyde was mostly metal, so presumably thought key positioning would allow him to protect his head and he''d get away with avoiding any fatal damage from a normal or less-than-lethal shot.


    Oh, but they weren¡¯t too picky about what I put in, so we¡¯ll see how much regret he¡¯d have. You know, when he was dead.


    ¡°I hope you lived a good life, mouthless. I¡¯ll try to end you quick.¡±


    No appetite left for bravado, so I just shrugged. I could imagine he¡¯d killed before, due to his temper, willingness to enter this bout, and the confidence in his stance as he readied to chew me up with his mechanical parts. Enough of a villain that I didn¡¯t feel bad about what I was going to do to him.


    And he wouldn¡¯t get too traumatized if he ended up killing me, which was comforting, in a way.


    Buzzer sounded off and my final gamble of the night began.


    Gun-arm flicked up immediately as he moved toward me, his arms crossing his body as he approached at more of an angle. Not many fleshy parts exposed - although I wondered how metal his legs were underneath the thick cargo pants he wore. Not worth me wasting a shot just yet, so I didn¡¯t fire.


    Still allowed the sideloader to put the first shell into the chamber as the V-Force drive powered up, but I stepped forward to lash out at the man playing defensively. A clash of metal producing sparks and he was willing to take advantage of my close proximity. Let his guard down.


    He didn¡¯t have the natural strength of my prior opponents, but was tougher and sharper. I backed away as his pointed metal fingers dug into my right shoulder before they could get a grip. Crimson started to soak through the white sling my broken arm had been cradled in. Gun-arm came up to deflect the jab of his stake, and I continued to back away and circle from him. Didn¡¯t want to get pinned to the wall.


    Another clash where I barely escaped further injury. My legs were tiring, even if my cybernetic arm had no such weakness. That said, my mind was lagging too. Needed a fresh canister and some rest, as utilizing my synapse controlled limb while my gray matter was dry was starting to take its toll.


    Scuffed my footwork and right leg collapsed, dropping me to my knee. Clyde¡¯s clawed hand grabbed at me, scraping against the metal of my neck as he tried to grip on. His pneumatic spike popped back and forth as it came down to my head. Gun-arm prevented the early excavation of my skull, but he pushed down with his weight, trying to overpower me. Knife-fingers chewed through my super suit and found the taste of my skin.


    Couldn¡¯t get an angle on him to fire my shotgun. Cybernetic arm was trying its hardest to resist the force slowly crushing me. Against better judgement, I activated Reflex.


    Brain cooled, and I gained a heightened sense of what was going on. Ruin came from us both as the muscles in my left arm shifted it out from the sling and I punched him in the knee, further splitting my barely mending break.


    [Electro-punch.]


    Clyde hopped back, withdrawing his hands in hopes of avoiding the bullshit attack I just made up. The true damage was knowing his leg wasn¡¯t cybernetic, and in giving me the opportunity to strike him while he was undefended.


    With the power of my latent ability speeding up my brain processes, I powered through the first two shells in quick succession - the sideloader only briefly allowing the first emptied cartridge escape before the second entered and fired.


    Clyde stumbled back and growled, looking down at his knee. A few scratches through the torn fabric, but in his mind the dual Nerve shot had all but obliterated the flesh from bone.


    ¡°Asshole, another limb I¡¯ll replace. Maybe after selling off your junk parts.¡± He shuffled closer and went in with the powered stake.


    Rather rude - my parts might not be top grade, but they were mostly custom work and so much better than his. Probably not the thing I should be worrying at present. As he lunged out at me, I rolled off to the side.


    Reflex wore off as I stumbled back to my feet, left arm once again hanging loose and limp by my side. He lashed around but hit nothing but air. Anger and frustration in his face. Perhaps wasteful of me to use both Nerve shots on the same limb right away, but I wanted to guarantee the advantage. Now I could keep him at range and-


    With a sharp hiss, his hand popped from his wrist and shot across the gap between us. Impaled my chest, managing to dig in through my ribs, and the sharp protrusions closed by reflex. I gasped from the pain; the rope leading from his shot limb back to his arm becoming taut as he tried to pull me closer. As the metal dug through muscle and tightened on the bone, there was no point in fighting it.


    I stumbled towards him, and his stake arm drew back to lash into me. Deflected it with sparks, but he was already pumping a second strike as I recovered. Scraped along the outside of my cybernetic arm before slicing through the super suit. Pneumatic pulsed, and the sharpened tip broke my collar bone before I pushed it away.


    His boot came up and pressed against my useless left shoulder, as if he was about to try to pull my rib-cage out with the grasping hand still embedded in me. Thankfully, he still thought that leg was shot, so his placement was sloppy and weak. As his stake-arm drew back, he grinned wildly at seeing me level the shotgun barrel towards his faux-fucked knee.


    ¡°Do your worst, shit for brains. I¡¯ll tear your heart out and eat it.¡±


    V-Force up and I clicked the trigger.


    The energy from the attack at least pushed his leg away from me and waylaid his intended finishing blow. He probably wouldn¡¯t have felt the actual damage of the glass bursting against his bloodied knee.


    What would come next was something entirely different.


    I watched as his brow furrowed as he looked at the injury. Saw the small segmented bodies itching and burrowing themselves into the imagined wounds that were an exaggeration of the very real smaller ones.


    ¡°What did you do?¡± Panic and confusion crossed his face. Then, pain, as he felt the Flesheater bugs chewing their way through a part of his leg the Nerve agent hadn''t affected.


    Claw-hand released me and drew back up as he went to try to pat or grab away at the lumps writhing their way under his clothes. Just as I was trying to right myself back to my own shaking legs, he lashed out at me with the stake.


    ¡°What did you do?¡± he repeated, but my ears were ringing.


    Warmth ran down the side of my head, and I staggered back down to my knees. Pain radiated throughout my chest as my breathing slowed, but the side of my head felt numb. Gun-arm shook as I raised it to try to defend the angered assault of the enraged cyborg.


    His death was all but guaranteed if I could hold out a little longer, but chances were growing slimmer by the second.


    A clash and the force reverberated down my arm as it was flung to the side, leaving me wide open.


    Not a bad evening, all things told. Not quite how I wanted to go out, but this was some form of penance for all the sins I had accumulated over the years.


    I took one last pained and haggard breath and closed my eyes.


    Over the whine of my ringing ears, Clyde screaming, and his cybernetics whirring in anger, the sound of a heavy thunk came from somewhere. Followed by muffled yells rising in pitch.


    A soft breeze washed over me, calming and soothing the agony I was trying to ignore.


    ¡°On your feet, hero. We are surrounded by criminals to arrest.¡±


    I turned my tired gaze to the resolute speedster as he clicked a ten-mag into my gun-arm.


    He had made his choice.

 49 - Down to the Foundations

    I received a second wind. Or rather, it must be third or fourth at this point. It was a ham-fisted attempt at gaining the trust and respect of the speedster, and something I almost died attempting - but in a way, it was bigger than that. More important than even my own life.


    Supers were just as varied a bunch of flawed assholes as anyone else in the city. Trouble was, they were meant to be better. Meant to adhere to a higher standard. Even knowing that I was a living being designed to kill those with powers, if I could just bend a few of them closer to the straight and narrow, then maybe someone like me wouldn¡¯t be needed.


    There was still the weight of the decision on his face, even as Captain Snaps helped me to my feet. His involvement with Boss was the final straw I found untenable, and I had forced him to choose the snobbish gangsters betting on my demise - or for him to step up and be a superhero.


    Now the angered suits had drawn their firearms, sensing the betrayal even if they were just mad that Roy had intervened in the fight.


    Like I gave a fuck about the rules.


    Cyborg staggered away, increasingly distracted by the insects eating and burrowing their way further into his body. The stake ejected from the pneumatic casing and clanged across the floor, as scissor-like prongs extended out of the hole to start cutting away at his clothing.


    [We¡¯ll need to lock the door.]


    Roy nodded and licked his lips. ¡°You¡¯ve got my back when I go out there?¡±


    [Till death do us part, asshole.]


    He grinned and got into position, his feet scraping across the stone floor as he tensed up.


    Stims flooded me with energy. A craving to see this through. All those panicked and furious faces with guns pointed at us - it almost felt relieving to have some more normal stakes for a change. Plus, I had a super on my side now. Adrenaline allowed my aching arm to grasp at the discarded stake, and awkwardly I loaded it into my shotgun before the limb fell inert once more. That¡¯ll do, leftie.


    [Let¡¯s show them why you don¡¯t mess with¡­ whatever our super group name is.]


    I didn¡¯t wait for his response - instead, my tired legs powered me forward. Clyde had collapsed now, a mess of pained growls and inept attempts to sever the bugs out of his body. My boots thundered toward the Vibrex. V-Force drive kicked into max power. One of the bodyguards was over at the exit now, about to go through.


    Reflex.


    Just as I fired the stake at the transparent wall, the speedster whizzed through the open door and slid across the floor past the benches to punch the thug about to escape.


    Sharpened projectile struck the glass, and it cracked. Slim lines ran away from the impact point, right before I shoulder-barged it with my cybernetic arm. I half expected to be rebuffed, but Overcharging my V-Force had tipped the scales just enough. The wall burst outward as I rolled through, up into a crouched position.


    With things in slow-motion due to my Reflex improving my mental focus, I unloaded the eight remaining shots of Nerve from my ten-mag into the crowd of thugs and suits in quick succession. Roy came in, avoiding my blasts but punching and tripping the others in a blur of speed - disarming the ones that didn¡¯t buckle from my assault.


    And just as the last empty cartridge bounced across the floor beside me, the room fell silent - aside from the speedster head-butting the last man standing.


    I stood, adrenaline double-checking things were safe now before leaving, and I groaned out in pain. I¡¯d taken a handful of shots in return, with the super suit thankfully taking most of the force out of the projectiles.


    Still, I was going to have quite the hangover in the morning.


    The speedster stepped down the benches to meet me, concern across his face. ¡°You look fucked to all shit, Dubs. Hospital time?¡±


    [I¡¯ve walked off worse.]


    ¡°I can see your skull. And your ribs. You¡¯re soaked with blood and sweat.¡±


    [This is like a good day at the gym for me. Working on my death resistance. Going well.]


    Breath was haggard again, so I leaned over to try to get it back. Vertigo almost had my fragile skull meet the ground, but gravity settled for just accepting a handful of drops of sweat and blood doing the deed.


    The Captain was silent for a moment, perhaps unsure whether to press the issue or take my health into his own hands. He turned to look at the subdued or unconscious bodies sprawled across the room. ¡°Boss is gonna be pissed at us both, huh?¡±


    [He¡¯ll survive. We got rid of the competition that was taking the information you had prepared for Boss.]


    I could see him tense up, even with my vision foggy and distracted by how cooling the floor looked.


    ¡°That¡¯s a fucker too, huh? I shouldn¡¯t have gotten involved with him¡­ but it sounded simple. Easy credits.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Doubt he¡¯d care much for me voiding the employment contract now.¡±


    [I will talk to him. My priority is keeping us safe.]


    He snorted. ¡°Since when were you our guardian angel, you beat-up piece of shit?¡±


    Pushing my gun-arm against my aching leg, I stood back up straight - only some agony flaring through my chest. Somehow I¡¯d managed to loop both belt and bandolier over the muzzle of my gun, allowing me to carry everything awkwardly. Roy had a wide, shit-eating grin across his face, some disbelief erasing the stress, but no malice in his question.


    [How much do you know about me, Roy?]


    An eyebrow raised and some of the mirth sunk from his expression. ¡°I know that the League likes the scent of your ass, but they don¡¯t trust me with any more information than that.¡±


    [I wonder why.]


    He rolled his eyes. ¡°If you¡¯re with Boss, then it must be something to do with him¡­ I guess you must be one of his Agents?¡±


    I nodded my head, which was far too painful an act for my liking.


    The speedster whistled. ¡°Fuck. That explains a lot, then.¡± He put his hands on his hips and looked at the gathered criminals. ¡°Oh, just because I chose to do the right thing, it doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ve suddenly changed who I am.¡±


    [No. You¡¯re clearly still an asshole.]


    ¡°Right. League often doesn¡¯t give us the direction or drive to be actual fuckin¡¯ heroes. For whatever reason that you cooked up in the small amount of brains you have left in your head, you lit that fire under my balls.¡± He gave another coy grin. ¡°I can see why Rox keeps barking up your tree.¡±


    [Whole reason I am out here tonight is because we had a brief argument.]


    ¡°Yeah?¡± The speedster opened his mouth as if he was going to make a smart remark, but kept it to himself and his expression cooled. ¡°Best let her play nurse and make up then. Want me to call her?¡±


    [I will be fine.]


    ¡°I can¡¯t let you just walk out of here, Dubs. You¡¯ll get like¡­ sand and shit in your open chest cavities.¡±


    [Perhaps I could use the extra grit. Have you called law enforcement?]


    ¡°They¡¯re on their way.¡±


    I gave him a nod and started shuffling off toward the door.


    [Good bust, Captain. You did well. Don¡¯t mention me in the report.]


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ asshole.¡± He crossed his arms and shook his head. ¡°Don¡¯t die on the way home after all this, alright?¡±


    My gun-arm raised, and I waved him off. Stepped over the unconscious body of one of the thugs and opened up the door. By the time I made it to the top of the stairs, all the wounds previously bleeding had all but stopped. Still relatively close to keeling over, but I¡¯d make do.


    Probably start taking my own mortality a little more seriously.


    Out into the dimly lit portion of the bar, and I managed to fling my near-corpse through the fire exit off to the side, just as the cops rolled in from the front. I stumbled into the dark alley and tried not to fall into the gathered trash along the wall opposite.


    While everyone nearby was focused on the flashing lights and presence of law enforcement, I snuck by unaccosted and found my bike. Reflecting the shifting lights of the Boozeslut sign, I was slightly saddened by the number of scratches and dents it had from the last time I was in this situation. Had my wits about me this time.


    Bike started up and my whole body tensed in pain as I used only my gun-arm to steer it. Without the extra part Clara had made me, it would have been impossible. But I took things easy, made my way through and out of the city at a slower than normal pace - anything to survive.


    The rougher dirt road out into the outskirts was hell on my recovering wounds, but eventually, I was numb to it. Rolled to a stop near my shack and switched it off. Home. My eyes went up to the darkened windows of Roxy¡¯s house. Then I glanced at my kill-room. Perhaps a little fresh air would be better for the moment.


    Hoisted myself onto the ground, allowing my belt to fall to the dirt. Shuffled my way over to my deckchair and lowered myself slowly, trying not to grunt out in pain. Sat and exhaled in some manner of relief, my eyes looking back toward the city. Piece of shit city.


    Wasn¡¯t long before I heard soft footsteps behind me. Grass and then gravel. Didn¡¯t turn, only partially because it was too painful to.


    ¡°Peace offering?¡± Roxy stood at my side and held an object down into my view.


    The moonlight caught the unmistakable shape of a freezer-chilled nutritional canister. Maybe that pounding in my chest wasn¡¯t just my heart trying to hide behind exposed ribs.


    I looked up at her. Some concern across her brow. Any anger from earlier this evening long something of the past. Baggy t-shirt and shorts. It would be a reasonable guess that she¡¯d been waiting up for me.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    [Offering accepted.]


    She kneeled at the end of the deckchair and unclasped the side of my neck, bringing out the old cannister without having to ask or wait for my permission. A small hiss as she pressed the new one in, her movements already practiced enough to assist me even in this near lack of light. Clasps back closed as the rejuvenating calm flooded through my system. Absolute fucking bliss.


    Roxy turned her leg around to sit beside me, and idly fiddled with the empty tube. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for earlier, Dubs. I¡¯m shit with words and I¡¯m not used to having people around when I get all stressed and shit.¡±


    [I also apologize for pushing you toward my lofty ambitions and taking your push back personally.]


    She gave me a glum smile. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize I could push you away that easily. I have been taking you for granted.¡±


    [No, it is also on me for acting like the world revolves around me.]


    Roxy sighed and looked out at the city with me. ¡°Pair of dumbasses, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    [Literally the worst.]


    ¡°Clara said you¡¯d been shot. Want to go inside and I¡¯ll zap you? How bad is it?¡± She jostled my numb left arm in an attempt to gesture towards the house.


    [Is that all she told you?]


    ¡°Just roughed up. Shot a couple of times.¡± She stood up, but clearly didn¡¯t have very good night vision if she hadn¡¯t made note of my actual state. ¡°Although¡­ don¡¯t tell me your arm is broken again?¡±


    [Not like I could hide it for long.]


    ¡°Fuck¡¯s sake. What is it with you and that arm? Get inside right now.¡±


    Despite the tone taken in her demand, I felt cool and relaxed. In safe hands. Certainly, part of that was the canister and stims making me feel elated¡­ but I was self-aware enough to know some of my relief was in putting water under the bridge with the super.


    Of course, once I¡¯d shuffled into the dining room slash surgical workshop and became illuminated by the light, she didn¡¯t seem too impressed.


    ¡°Dubs, what in the fucking hells have you been doing?¡± She bared her teeth, trying to decide if wringing my neck was a good idea. ¡°Broken arm, gunshot wounds... there are holes in your damn chest. Part of your head is a flap I can see your skull under, and your suit is cut to shit and soaked through with blood.¡±


    [How quickly do they update the news?]


    She furrowed her brow, further annoyed that I was distracting her from my state. I went to lie on the surgical bed, as that seemed to be more comfortable than collapsing on the spot. Roxy¡¯s eyes were up and unfocused, looking through information only she was privy to.


    ¡°You were¡­ busy being sidekick to Roy of all people?¡± She looked at me, either hurt that I had been working with a different super, or confused that the speedster had done anything worthwhile.


    [Two vouches, two to go.]


    She leaned over me as I stared up at the ceiling. ¡°You¡¯re deadly serious about becoming a hero then?¡±


    [If you give me the chance, I can prove I¡¯m able to keep up and be an asset to-]


    ¡°Shut your damn mouth.¡± Roxy held up the shrapnel remover. ¡°It was never about your capabilities, you asshole. I don¡¯t like the League and their rules. They¡¯re¡­ glorified babysitters that just want to market you and have you dance to their tune. I¡­ just didn¡¯t want that for you. You have the freedom already.¡±


    My body twitched as she zapped one of the bullets from my torso. In the corner of my eyesight, I could see that the Dead Zone had been switched on already. Green light.


    [Comparatively, I am beholden to my Boss, but wish to escape. You can do a lot of good in the League, so I wanted to bolster what you have already. Before we can both break away.]


    The remover wiggled in her hand, her thoughts distracted. Eventually she looked back down at me, her face moving close to mine, and her hand resting at the side of my cheek.


    ¡°Alright, motherfucker. I¡¯ll support this, but it¡¯s on several conditions, otherwise I¡¯m out.¡±


    [Go ahead.]


    ¡°First.¡± She zapped another bullet out of my chest. ¡°No more getting beat to shit like this. This one is non-negotiable unless we¡¯re dealing with some serious villain threats. I can¡¯t keep putting you together just because you think you can take on the world to atone for your shitty life, or you ran off to impress someone in an illegal fighting ring.¡±


    I winced.


    [You knew?]


    ¡°I¡¯m not as stupid as I look, Dubs.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°My team are all useless assholes, but I¡¯d be a shitty leader if I didn¡¯t know what they all got up to. Roy has been frequenting that place ever since the League defanged him.¡±


    [Ah.]


    ¡°What¡¯s actually surprising is that you of all people got him to turn all those assholes in. I knew shady shit went on down there, but I had no proof. We can¡¯t all go kicking doors in and murder everyone. I want the whole story of what went on tonight.¡±


    [As a condition of your support?]


    ¡°As your future super group leader, and if you want to get any closer to me emotionally. I need the whole truth, if you can trust me.¡±


    I took a deep breath. This was the true test of tonight¡¯s self sacrifice. Well, no. Nothing so noble sounding - it was pure self-destruction in the hopes I could temper what needed forging. She knew that I still couldn¡¯t trust her fully, with her original appearance here meant to be to spy on me. Understood that me giving the full truth to her held that asterisk at the top corner.


    Despite the risk, it would probably be the safest gamble of the night.


    So I told her all. Everything from leaving here in a huff to deal with the contract Boss had given to me. Roy preventing me from turning some drunkards into mush. My own dance with alcohol as I agreed to fight, then the risk I put myself in to force the speedster to actually act like a hero.


    She wasn¡¯t too pleased with a lot of that story, judging by her facial expressions. Especially the part where I signed myself up for a deathmatch and almost died if it weren¡¯t for the Captain intervening.


    ¡°So you¡¯re some kind of super whisperer now, are you?¡± Any ire had been replaced with exhaustion, as she returned the shrapnel remover, and came back with some shears to remove my super suit.


    [More palatable than super killer.]


    ¡°Honestly? If your methods weren¡¯t so self-destructive, I¡¯d be impressed. Like, seriously enamored.¡± She tilted her head and held the thick scissors up. ¡°Getting Roy to play nice is like¡­ I¡¯ve never been good at herding cats, so never understood why they put me in charge¡­¡±


    She slipped the blades in at my lower stomach, the blunt edge of the cold metal pressing against my skin as she started to snip around. ¡°The dangerous thing is you¡¯ve given me hope, Dubs. Our group has been stuck at C-Rank for a while because¡­ well, we just don¡¯t work together? Partly my own fault, I know. If I followed the letter of what the League wanted more, I could Rank higher myself¡­ but if you can straighten out the other assholes, then we could be a great fucking team.¡±


    [I have zero doubts you could be a fantastic leader.]


    Roxy smiled for the first time in a while. ¡°Oddly enough, I believe you are the right kind of insane to bring us all together.¡±


    [Based on one evening of almost death forcing Roy¡¯s hand?]


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know he had taken up being an informant for your Boss. That¡¯s some shit that is going to simmer, especially if it¡¯s League info he¡¯s fucking with.¡± Her smile vanished as her mouth instead screwed up in thought. ¡°That¡¯s going to be your condition number two, Dubs. He needs severing from that and to go clean.¡±


    [Understood.]


    Not an entirely simple ask, but she was entirely correct. I didn¡¯t know how far Boss¡¯s reach spanned, or how easy it was for the more ancillary people under his sway to leave without having someone like me show them the door.


    I¡¯d need to message him myself once all this was done with.


    Roxy placed down the scissors and then peeled the front of my super suit off. Slowly, as parts of it were either stuck with sweat or had adhered itself to some of my wounds. Damage was revealed.


    ¡°Not sure how I have such a strong stomach for this.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Let me clean and dress these. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re dying for some sleep.¡±


    [Surprisingly, I am content enough to listen to you berate me.]


    Actually, I was fucking exhausted, but it wasn¡¯t entirely a lie.


    ¡°No point trying to flirt when you look like someone knifed a bowl of burritos half to death. I like you, Dubs, but I detest what you do to yourself.¡± She vanished from sight.


    I heard her footsteps leave the room and go to the kitchen. Probably for clean water and disinfectant - oh, yes. There was the tap. I felt a little more somber and grounded now. I¡¯d tried to put Roy on the right course. Given up everything and told Roxy my intent. Was trying to live and create a life I could live and enjoy¡­


    But there was a shadow always behind me. Reminding me that I was a killer. In my past life. In this life. Any glance toward to the future was hazy with the weight of what I had done¡­ and in this way I allowed myself to get injured. Pushed myself to the very brink to allow destiny to end me if it thought I wasn¡¯t worthy to continue.


    Yet I had.


    So was this validation that I was meant to have more? Be something better? I even had support around me now, actually wanting me to have a life - in comparison to Boss, who only used me for what purpose he had set for me.


    In willing to give everything to achieve something, I now had to be more conservative with how I stained reality. Stronger foundations so that Roxy, Clara, and the other assholes could raise up with me.


    The super entered the room, sponge in one hand and bucket in the other.


    ¡°Clara was worried sick and stressed that she couldn¡¯t come to see you. I hope you realize that condition one isn¡¯t just for my benefit. I¡¯ll give her all the details later, if that¡¯s okay?¡±


    [Of course. And I will make it up to her tomorrow.]


    ¡°Good, because she is working extra late for your sake - not that your dumbass deserves it.¡± She placed the bucket down and soaked the sponge before wringing it out. ¡°Which brings me onto the next point. This super suit clearly isn¡¯t working for you if you¡¯re getting thrashed to shit literally every day.¡±


    [Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve already made arrangements for that.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± She gently wiped around some of the bullet holes. ¡°Dare I ask?¡±


    [It can be a surprise. Think of it as a rebirth of the actual Gunquake, where I will uphold the conditions and take my superheroship more seriously.]


    Her eyes rolled. ¡°You¡¯re not having second thoughts on ¡®Gunquake¡¯?¡±


    [Should I?]


    ¡°No, but¡­ well, you¡¯ll see. Another surprise for the fledgeling hero.¡±


    Times like these, I wished I could smile. My eyes knew the muscle movements, even if I didn¡¯t have the physical parts to complete the act. The super could see it, and that was enough for me. Tonight had been inadvertent, and full of mistakes, but I had emerged from it with even greater hope for the future.


    Agent W might as well have died in that pit room, but Gunquake emerged from within.


    ¡°There might be other conditions, but I¡¯m also tired as hell and fixing you up has my mind all over the place. Most important ones are your safety and sorting Boss out, though.¡±


    [I will do my best. Our road will not be easy, but I believe together we can achieve anything.]


    She paused and narrowed her eyes at me. ¡°I¡¯d give you an ear-kiss, but I don¡¯t fancy getting scabbed blood on me. Oh, that¡¯s a point, though.¡± Roxy pressed a finger gently on the part of my chest that wasn¡¯t minced beef. ¡°We¡¯re still having our duel. After seeing what you did with Roy, I understand better why you want to put me through such bullshit.¡±


    [As soon as I am recovered, I¡¯m all yours.]


    ¡°Oh, you will be, motherfucker. Clara has been on my ass to train and prepare for you.¡± She grinned, a spark of her normal self returning. ¡°I¡¯m going to rock-slide your fucking world.¡±


    [Disgusting. I cannot wait.]


    Her smile remained as she finished patching me back together. A quiet contentedness settled between us as she worked. Partly because I was actually extremely tired, but also happy. It took breaking myself down into small parts to build myself back up into something to be proud of, but I was grasping for an actual solid future - a step even beyond just the happy circumstance of friendly neighbors.


    Now I was just left wondering if Boss had snipped my old synapse connections for more reasons than just the apparent powers I could activate.


    Maybe it was the ambition to grow stronger that he sought to quell, to squirm away from his control.


    These thoughts flooded my mind as I sat up and had my arm put back in a sling. Bandages around my torso. Around my head.


    While the human part of me desired friendship and a community to cling to, whatever I used to be was drawn to becoming great. A thread of memory lingered just outside my reach, the taste of it wanting me to leap and guess - but I had to be patient.


    Standing at the doorway of the dining room, Roxy held my face in her hands. Brought me a little closer and gave me a brief kiss on the forehead.


    ¡°Survive twenty-four hours without injury, and I¡¯ll put the papers in for you. See if the League will allow you to become a super.¡±


    [Thank you, Roxy.]


    She smiled and rubbed a thumb on my cheek. ¡°Thank me after your third photoshoot, second public speaking event, and eleventh time your manager has called you in because you¡¯re not posing quite well enough to show off your ass in the promotional material.¡±


    [I do need to work on my glutes.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes and relinquished her grip on me. ¡°Ah, I don¡¯t know about that. Oh, you did say you¡¯d work out with me too. Let¡¯s make that condition number three, only because¡­¡± her mouth opened and closed. ¡°Purely selfish reasons.¡±


    I shrugged as best as my body would allow. Might be a while before I could go hard on my left arm, so cardio and a leg day or two didn¡¯t sound that bad.


    ¡°Alright, up to bed with you before I grab more ice-cream and force you to watch a movie about a dog and even though I¡¯ve watched it five times and know the dogs dies because of course the dog dies ''it¡¯s a sad dog movie'' I will still bawl my eyes out and I¡¯m not sure you¡¯re ready for that emotional vulnerability or amount of snot from me just yet.¡±


    She took a deep breath, having expelled the longest run-on sentence I had ever heard.


    [Good night, then, Roxy. Could you put my goggles back down for me?]


    ¡°Sure.¡± She nodded eagerly. Some exhaustive mania had clearly popped her like a volcano, and now the ash ran down into the neighboring village where - oh, perhaps I was being just as bad.


    Couldn¡¯t even remember at what points my goggles had been up or down. But she did what I asked, and I left the dining room and hit the stairs. She followed me to ensure I didn¡¯t secretly die to something lurking in the brief shadows - all before I was shut away in the spare room, and she retired to her own bedroom.


    Soft bed greeted me with wide arms, and I was patient and didn¡¯t throw my aching body upon it. Settled in comfortably and addressed the elephant in the room. Namely, the flashing notification icon in the top of my lense.


    Boss: Agent W.


    Boss: I am disappointed with the results of your contract.


    Boss: Did you perhaps read it incorrectly?


    Boss: And now the informant has even looser lips.


    Boss: You¡¯ve caused me a huge problem here, Agent W.


    Boss: If you don¡¯t kill the informant within twenty-four hours, then our business relationship will be terminated.

 50 - Gunquake

    I opened my eyes to daylight.


    A new day, and I was willing to pretend I could be a totally new me.


    Whether reality could accept that or not remained to be seen, but despite the thinly veiled threat that Boss had left me with the night before, I slept well. Incredibly well, in fact - no doubt in part because I was partially dead.


    Only slightly disappointed that nobody had woken me up, I sat up in the bed and rubbed through my hair. One side of my head felt like garbage, sore to the touch. Blood matted through the hair. My torso ached beneath the swaddled bandages, but my left arm was responsive - I had only just realized it was doing the job asked of it in kneading my fragile skull.


    Before I had the chance to get out of the covers to see if Roxy was about, I noticed there were more notifications awaiting my interest.


    First was from Hal, confirming my delivery would be later tonight. Van Micheals and his van would hopefully arrive at a time the super was preoccupied, so I could ask for forgiveness rather than permission. Still, it was surely better than me getting injured. Boss had sent me nothing further after I had ignored him. Not a great idea, but I wasn¡¯t sure how to respond just yet.


    Most interesting of all was the message from Roy.


    Captain Snaps: Let me know when you¡¯re up, big guy.


    Captain Snaps: Would like to chat.


    A little ominous, but I was willing to see where it went. Sent him the confirmation.


    Captain Snaps: Five minutes, outside.


    Rolled my eyes and got out of bed. Couldn¡¯t remember when I¡¯d gotten undressed, but compression shorts and the bandages covered enough of me to be considered decent. Opened up the door. Both Roxy¡¯s bedroom and the bathroom were open, and I could hear movement in the kitchen.


    Went gingerly down the stairs, some stiffness in my muscles. In reaching the lobby, the super caught a glance at me and almost spat out the mouthful of coffee she had been drinking.


    ¡°Gosh, Dubs,¡± she recovered and wafted air over her face. ¡°A little forewarning would be nice. Thought you¡¯d be asleep a lot longer. I¡¯ve got a meeting this morning, but then my shift isn¡¯t until the evening.¡±


    [That¡¯s a shame.]


    That was perfect. It meant she would be away when the delivery came.


    She looked me up and down before shaking her head. ¡°Sure is. Clara is coming over this morning to babysit you, though. She has something you ordered, but said it in a rude way that made it seem like something else. I shouldn''t be away too long if I can help it. Maybe afternoon if I''m unlucky?¡±


    [Excellent. You¡¯ll be in for a surprise when you return this afternoon, then. Oh, and Roy is popping over to chat with me.]


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Roxy narrowed her eyes at me before tidying up the remnants of her breakfast. ¡°Better not be some bullshit, Dubs.¡±


    [No fighting, I remember.]


    ¡°Good. Keep him out of the house, though. I¡¯m not quite ready for you to be hosting guests in my absence.¡± She stepped out of the kitchen and up to me. ¡°That sounds like I don¡¯t trust you, but it¡¯s not that.¡±


    [I understand. I¡¯m actually about to step outside to meet him.]


    The super smiled and put her hand against my arm gently, waiting a couple of seconds before gesturing with her head as well. ¡°Get out then, you goof. I¡¯ve got places to be.¡±


    I nodded and left, unsure what I was expecting exactly. Oh, a new canister would have been nice - I¡¯d need to check if we had any in the freezer, and my overall stock as a whole. Might have to order more from¡­ ah. My waning connection to my prior lifeline put a few things into question.


    Roxy placed her hand on my back and then took a few steps away to leap - but stopped just as a small cloud of dust in the direction of the city grew larger - and then the dark figure of the Captain slid to a stop across my yard. After the gravel stopped dancing around and the shockwave had passed through us, he stepped over and gave us both a nod.


    ¡°Dubs, Rox, hope I wasn¡¯t interrupting anything?¡±


    ¡°Just heading out, Roy. No doubt the League wants to talk to me about your activities last night.¡±


    He pulled a smile that looked more like a grimace. ¡°Might be the case. Sorry, Rox.¡±


    ¡°Play nice or I¡¯ll break both your necks.¡± She glared at us before leaping off toward the city, another shockwave causing me to wince.


    Roy watched her take another couple of hops in the distance before turning to me. ¡°Fucking hells, I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re even standing, Dubs. You sure you¡¯re not a super?¡±


    I flexed my left arm before giving him a shrug.


    [Unlikely. I am many things, but most of that is clouded in a past I do not remember.]


    ¡°Sure, sure. But that arm was broken and I could see inside your chest only last night.¡± He crossed his arms.


    [Lucky you, few have seen such an easy pathway to my heart.]


    ¡°Enough with the bullshit.¡± He gestured over to the deckchairs and I sat on Roxy¡¯s while he sat opposite on mine. ¡°I came over because I wanted to tell you¡­ I came clean with the League.¡±


    I nodded slowly and allowed him to continue.


    ¡°Told them all the bullshit I¡¯d been doing. With Boss and Romanov. They suspended me for two weeks without pay - which is great because I thought I was about to get struck off. In like a turn-up-murdered kind of way.¡±


    [That¡¯s still a possibility. Boss wants me to kill you.]


    ¡°Ah.¡± He winced. ¡°So if I killed you now while you¡¯re weakened, that¡¯d save me a lot of headache in the short term?¡±


    [If you believe I am capable of dying, yes.]


    ¡°Hmm.¡± His fingers drummed on his leg. ¡°I¡¯m definitely quicker than you, and you¡¯re unarmed.¡±


    [As far as you can tell.]


    Roy nodded, a wry grin at the side of his mouth. ¡°Quit fluffing me and tell me your plans, asshole.¡±


    [I¡¯m not going to kill you.]


    ¡°Boss won¡¯t like that.¡±


    I nodded and looked out past him to the city. In truth, I hadn¡¯t decided how best to approach that. There had always been the plan to escape his clutches, but¡­ so soon? I had hoped to be entrenched in the safety of the League a little more first. Assuming he wasn¡¯t secretly part of them, of course - which sounded unlikely, even if I couldn¡¯t take the possibility off the table.


    [There is the chance he will send other Agents against us, then.]


    ¡°Out of the frying pan.¡± Roy sighed and shook his head, a hand coming up to rub at his beard. ¡°Knowing I¡¯m a speedster, he¡¯ll probably be able to outfit the other assholes to fight against me.¡±


    [Well, you have me as an ally now. I can¡¯t watch over you, but I will stand with you, if you stand with me.]


    ¡°Yeah. I think last night cemented the start of our bromance, Dubs.¡± He grinned and leaned back. ¡°Fine. We¡¯re enemies of Boss together then. Together we¡¯ll kick ass or die trying.¡±


    [I¡¯m assuming you¡¯ll prostrate yourself before Roxy soon.]


    Although he didn¡¯t seem too enamored with the notion, he gave a brief nod. ¡°League will be bringing her up to date now. Assuming your pillow talk included our date night, then she already knows and didn¡¯t tear me in half as soon as I got here. I¡¯ll be honest with her about my intentions for the group, you have my word.¡±


    [Thank you, Roy.]


    ¡°Asshole.¡± He rolled his eyes. ¡°Couldn¡¯t just leave me be, huh? Now you got me on the news this morning. Had my parents call me up saying how proud they were.¡± The speedster looked at the ground and sighed. ¡°Always felt I was letting them down so this¡­ you earned my respect, Dubs, which isn¡¯t something I give easily. Not since leaving the force.¡±


    [I have something akin to military training, so I understand the necessity and strength of a group.]


    ¡°I can tell. Private or some secret organization, no doubt, based on how you fight.¡± With a grunt, he stood and held his hand out. ¡°To our shitty little super group, and being less a sack full of shit.¡±


    I stood as well and shook his hand. Although I could tell there was some apprehension in his eyes, he was being genuine with me. There was the fire - the desire to have some order and efficiency in his life that wasn¡¯t placed on him by the League.


    [How was the clean-up with Romanov? What information did he and Boss want from you?]Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Simple stuff. Roster of active heroes and their ranks, which districts each were assigned to. Unfortunately the wheels of justice turn slowly, my friend. They are scouring the bar for evidence today, digging out some of his other residences for data drives and other bullshit. I don¡¯t even know the extent of his dealings, or what he wanted to do with that information.¡±


    Nothing too confidential, but not publicly available either. I could think of plenty of reasons why criminals may want to know that sort of information if they were planning something.


    [And my cyborg opponent?]


    ¡°Skin suit amongst metal parts.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Don¡¯t even want to know what you fucking did to him, you scary motherfucker. One grazing shot and he was a walking dead man? Boss would be clever to cut you loose and let you retire.¡±


    [If only life were that simple.]


    ¡°Too true. Anyway, that¡¯s mostly everything. It¡¯s just quicker for me to run out here and chat shit rather than type it out.¡±


    [I¡¯m just glad you had no morning-after regrets.]


    He grinned. ¡°You¡¯re a rough one, but straightforward. Sometimes we need the blinding sunlight to scour away the gloom we swirl around ourselves. Like you and Rox, no doubt. Patch things up, I take it?¡±


    [Literally, yes. Told off, cleaned up, and sent to my room.]


    ¡°Not bunking yet?¡± He tilted his head.


    [No. She hasn¡¯t earned it yet.]


    The Captain raised his eyebrows. ¡°You¡¯re one stone-cold killer, Dubs. I knew you¡¯d be one to watch out for when you stood up to me at the housewarming. Anyway, can¡¯t stay and gossip. My ma wants me over for brunch.¡±


    [You take care, Roy. Let me know if anything comes up.]


    He gave me a quick salute, and then he was gone. A blur that kicked up dust along the road to the city. I watched him leave, before sitting myself back down on the deckchair.


    A speedster was a decent ally to have. I hadn¡¯t really begun to start thinking bigger picture things, not before I had even got the rubber stamp to call myself a hero. Considering the League had tabs on me in knowing I worked for Boss, now that Roy had informed them he had contact too, I wondered if that would harm or assist my plans.


    It mostly depended on what the League wanted with me. Poking me to see what I was capable of? How loyal to Boss I was? Did they know more about my past than I did? There was the hope that they would like to train me into being one of their assets, even if our long-term goal was to get Roxy out of the League. I needed backing, especially if I was going against Boss.


    About time I ripped that band-aid off.


    Agent W: Apologies. I am unable to kill the informant.


    Boss: Can¡¯t or won¡¯t?


    Agent W: Irrelevant.


    Boss: You¡¯ve always been such a good Agent, why the change?


    Boss: Has the League managed to brainwash you into thinking you have other options?


    Boss: That people seriously think of you as anything more than a killer?


    Boss: Wake up, Agent W.


    Boss: If you are too far deluded to see the wool pulled over your eyes¡­


    Boss: Then perhaps this should be our final correspondence.


    Boss: You are being manipulated. Think.


    Boss: Do not reply until you¡¯ve actually considered what you are doing.


    Boss: Who you are. How you owe me.


    My left fist shook as I watched the messages come in, knuckles whitened as I clenched it in rage. Muscles across my body tensed, aching at my recovering wounds. Raised my hand and unclipped my vocalizer. Stood and screamed in silent frustration. Rage against the thumb that had kept me down. How I had been used by someone so clearly afraid of me. Playing with fire, and now he was trying to get ahead of the inferno.


    Hand clasped at my neck again. Nutrition canister popped out and thrown to the floor. Stim pack followed suit. I took a few deep breaths to temper my outburst. Closed my eyes and allowed my recovering body to rest. A calm, meditative state seeped through me as I allowed the darkness to settle my anger.


    When I opened up my eyes again, I was someone different. Choices had been made, and I had accepted any potential consequences.


    Agent W: Go fuck yourself.


    Agent W: I am no longer your tool. You better hope I never find out who you are.


    Agent W: Do not cross me. This is your one and only warning.


    I waited almost a full minute with no response from him. Figured he would show cowardice when threatened. I had just made a resourceful and powerful enemy, but what was fucking new?


    My eyes went away from the closed chat windows to see the sensors light up. A familiar gray van was approaching. Perfect timing and a much needed distraction. Hand went up to reattach the vocalizer.


    I stepped over to the edge of the grass and waited for Clara to pull up. Some concern over her eyes, but seeing me in one piece had it quickly melt away to a relieved smile.


    ¡°Mr Dubs,¡± her cybernetic eyes ran me up and down, ¡°now I feel like I am overdressed.¡±


    [Roxy told me you had your hands on my large package.]


    ¡°I¡¯ve been very excited. In fact, you also have my small box to play with too. Assuming you promise to be a good boy, Mr Dubs.¡±


    [You have my word.]


    She grinned and hopped out of the van, walking around to where I stood. She was wearing her usually slate gray overalls and black tights, a very somber outfit to match her usual passive outlook. Eyes seemed tired, even if she was happy to see me.


    ¡°I won¡¯t hug you just now, as we can only stretch plausible deniability so far, but I¡¯m relieved to see you survived another near death experience.¡±


    [My apologies, I didn¡¯t mean to subject you to another play-by-play of the wounds inflicted. Roxy has made me swear off being half-dead for the near future.]


    ¡°I will be impressed if that lasts, Mr Dubs.¡± She crossed her arms and gestured to the back of the van with her head. ¡°Go get dressed already.¡±


    With a nod of thanks, I walked around and popped open the door. There it was - my order from Public Defender. A big one, and a stretch of what Clara could get with her fledgling membership - but this was necessary for my ascension. My rebirth.


    ¡°A little bird told me you used the Flesheater on a live target,¡± she called from near the front of the van.


    I had tried not to think about it too much. Mostly because there were too many questions pinned to that whole ordeal. Like, how did she get those bugs? What manner of dark thoughts did she have that something so war crime-worthy was even an option she chose to provide me?


    An edge of my gun-arm sliced through the tape holding the box shut, so I could dig into what lay within.


    [Correct. It was remarkably effective.]


    ¡°That¡¯s all you can ask from something like that, I suppose. If your intention is to become a superhero, Mr Dubs, I will have to tone down some of our options.¡±


    [I think it¡¯s fair to say I shouldn¡¯t need anything for my other role at present.]


    She was silent for a moment as I withdrew wrapped packages to place along the back end of the van. ¡°Oh? Are you in someone¡¯s bad books?¡±


    [More appropriate to say I have pissed on the book, set it on fire, and then thrown it into a river. The river is also on fire.]


    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt the river is also piss, Mr Dubs. We will talk more about this later.¡±


    The assumption there was that she meant in our Dead Zone room - which was fair. Roy and I had been talking openly, but I don¡¯t think we went over anything the League didn¡¯t already know. If Boss tracked me like that¡­ well, I didn¡¯t care anymore. I had already set forth on my destiny. With things out in the open, everything would get sorted out one way or another.


    Potentially with me finding an end. A dead one.


    Clara had gone silent again, and part of my tired mind brought up the conspiracy that she might be working for Boss as well. An Agent sent to watch me that could¡­ no, that was madness. She had known Roxy for so long, and was helping me in so many ways that such a betrayal was near unthinkable. Only near, though.


    ¡°Did you need a hand back there, Mr Dubs?¡±


    I grunted and deflated slightly.


    [As much as I was hoping for this to be a big reveal, many of these items aren¡¯t well designed to be affixed with a single hand.]


    The technician came around to the back of the van and bit her lip at seeing me in a muddle. ¡°Oh, Mr Dubs. I cannot wait to see the look on Rockslide¡¯s face.¡±


    [You think she will like it?]


    ¡°Have you ever seen those videos where the groom sees the bride in her dress for the first time?¡±


    [No.]


    ¡°Trust me, Mr Dubs. She will melt into a puddle of blushing muscles.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure if that was a good thing or not. But, with Clara¡¯s extra pair of hands, the rest of my new outfit made its way onto my body into the right places. Took a lot longer than I thought - which made me question my decisions - but there was no denying the excitement on the techie¡¯s face.


    One last tightened buckle, and she stepped away to look at me fully.


    I gave her a little twirl, and she pouted.


    ¡°Before you say anything, check the little box I got you.¡±


    I nodded, to the sound of creaking leather. Picked up the small case with my gloved left hand and popped it open. Three shells within. Placing it back down, I clutched at one between two fingers and brought it up into the late morning sunshine.


    [Quake.]


    ¡°A superhero needs a signature attack, so what better for Gunquake than a Quake shot?¡± She beamed, the pride evident on her face. ¡°Only three because they are still in the development stage - but we should test one later.¡±


    [I figuratively cannot wait, Clara.]


    I placed it back into the case as gently as possible, half convinced it might shatter and doom us both to something terrible. Turned, and gave her a nod - the excitement was too much for her to contain.


    ¡°Now we hug, you more appropriately dressed teddy-bear.¡± She squeezed up on me and I put my arms around her. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you have to make me worry so much. It seems unfair.¡±


    [I know. Plus, I¡¯m about to ask you for even more things.]


    She sighed, but was smiling as she moved away. ¡°I know your type, Mr Dubs - never satisfied. Not content with living your own life, you now want to be a superhero and bend the team back into shape. Don¡¯t tell her I said this, but that prospect is actually very exciting for Rockslide.¡±


    [I figured as much.]


    ¡°And it is pragmatic for you to have strong allies to survive.¡± She maintained the smile and looked over at the city. ¡°I assume you want a more stable source of canisters and stims, correct?¡±


    [Astute, as always.]


    ¡°No promises, but I will see what I can do. Is price now an issue?¡±


    I shook my head. While my contract income was all but dried up, I¡­


    [Oh, let me transfer you all my money, just in case I lose control of my account.]


    ¡°Are you¡­ sure?¡±


    [Yes. You¡¯re easy to kill if you double-cross me.]


    We both paused, and I winced. That wasn¡¯t exactly what I meant to say - my brain was still coming to terms with how out of control my life had gotten.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure why, but that might have been the most attractive thing you¡¯ve ever said to me.¡± She shook her head and held her wrist out - a digital screen popping up. ¡°I have a secondary account I will put your funds in, Mr Dubs, and will provide you access so it is no different for you - other than being tied to the League¡¯s securities, of course.¡±


    I scanned my STAR across it, and her eyebrows raised as she moved the amount across. Further tied to the organization, but it was more acceptable than Boss removing control of my finances - if that was possible. Not willing to take that risk when we had so much at stake.


    ¡°Two things are surprising, Mr Dubs. That you have this amount of credits, and that you have promised to spend such a large percentage on it for my education. Here¡¯s the digital card information so you can access.¡±


    We scanned again. She then gestured toward the city, and I caught sight of Roxy leaping back our way.


    [Short meeting.]


    ¡°A blessing for us, when there¡¯s so much to do. Quick, Mr Dubs, go and stand in the center of the garden in a dramatic pose.¡±


    I did just that - although my pose was rather neutral. Oddly, I was a bit apprehensive about wondering what she would think of my outfit.


    One last leap, and then she landed with a thud just outside her garden. Eyes went to Clara first, to give her a greeting, before they switched to me. Her facial expression went completely blank as her brain short-circuited.


    Black boots with thickened soles and metal lined toes. Super suit instead replaced with combat trousers and a vest of dark green. Plates in the thigh pockets of my pants, and across my stomach, chest, and shoulders - made of Vibrum - the slim metal version of the toughened glass.


    Over these layers was black tactical gear. Wide belt with enough space for six ten-mags and my drum. Couple of pouches for other things. A vest with either mag storage or places to clip grenades or bulkier items. Holster on my left hip for a pistol. Tac knife around my left thigh. A balaclava-like hood over my head to hide away my skin and hair, that joined up with the edges of my gas-mask near perfectly. Black glove on my left hand.


    On the top of all this was a dark green leather trench-coat, which had been cut down to end just before the elbow on my gun-arm side. Hood already up, with a clasp across my collarbone to keep it relatively closed. The green of my goggles practically glowed compared to the muted colors of the rest of my gear.


    Roxy took a few steps towards me, her tongue struggling to find purchase on some useful words.


    Eventually, she stopped in place and gave both her eyes and brain a chance to take me in fully. ¡°Dubs?¡± she eventually asked.


    I shook my head slowly.


    [No, I am Gunquake.]

 51 - Wanted Man

    Roxy continued to stare as I gave her a slow twirl to show off my gear. When I returned to face her, she shook whatever brain freeze had been lingering and gave me a wide smile. ¡°Fuck me, Dubs.¡±


    ¡°At least wait for me to leave,¡± Clara said, stepping over into the garden more.


    ¡°Shut it, gremlin. You knew Dubs was doing this?¡± She gestured to me before putting her hands on her hips.


    ¡°I facilitated the order for Gunquake, but didn¡¯t know how it would look.¡±


    [Oh, no more ¡®Mr Dubs¡¯?]


    Clara shook her head. ¡°It is only correct that I refer to you with your chosen formal title now, Gunquake. At least¡­ in public.¡±


    The super ignored the wink the techie gave me, as she was still too focused on drinking me up. Still with hands on hips, she stepped up and walked side to side in front of me, as if any different angle could clue her in to some final conclusion.


    She stopped in front of me and relaxed. ¡°I was worried it was a little too dark or tactical looking, but I think the anti-hero look would be a perfect fit - the League should eat it up.¡±


    [You think so?]


    ¡°Suits you¡­ a little too well. But this is what you¡¯re comfortable with? This is you, correct?¡±


    [Correct.]


    ¡°Then you score a perfect eleven out of ten from me.¡± Her eyes lingered on me for a few seconds before she turned her head to Clara. ¡°You waiting for something, punk?¡±


    ¡°Nothing that should be on display in your front garden. Might I suggest we go to the dining room?¡±


    Roxy rolled her eyes, but nodded. It wasn¡¯t exactly a codeword, but there was no chance of us doing any dining in said room. While I had the utmost confidence in my new equipment as soonsaves had chosen it, there was still some additional comfort in the super approving of it. Even if she was trying to undress it in her mind.


    Tech supers were few and far between. Usually either the ultra rich wanting to showboat, those who had found some mysterious artefact, or a hardass that wanted to punch above their weight for as long as their frailty allowed them. I was firmly aiming for that latter category. As the sludge of my old life slowly rolled down into my current existence, I grew more fond of the notion.


    Hence the tactical gear. I¡¯d need more options than half a drum and a dream. Tools and gadgets to accompany my ammunition and weaponry. I¡¯d always be at a disadvantage against true supers - but in being prepared and willing to push myself to my limits, I¡¯d make pace alongside my team.


    Into the house and we walked into the dining room, which still had the slight odor of whatever disinfectant Roxy had used to it. Clara hit the buttons to turn the Dead Zone on, and after the lights turned green, she gave me a nod to take center stage.


    [First off, Boss expected me to kill Roy.]


    The super pulled a face and looked back to the door, as if expecting to see the bloodied corpse of the speedster now in plain view. ¡°You didn¡¯t do it, right?¡±


    [No. I told the Captain about it and we agreed to hold steady on our friendship.]


    ¡°How sweet.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°League told me about his suspension and most of the details of why. They know it was you who twisted his arm into doing it - and they¡¯re¡­ happy?¡±


    [Concerning.]


    ¡°Right? They actually want to meet you, officially. I¡­ kinda let slip that you wanted to be a superhero rather than sidekick and they are keen to see what you can do.¡±


    [Hasn¡¯t been twenty-four hours yet. I hope you¡¯re not giving me permission to injure myself.]


    ¡°No!¡± Roxy scowled at me. ¡°Meeting is tomorrow and I¡¯ll come with you if you wanted to go, but you¡¯ll want to turn up in good shape.¡±


    I nodded. Normally I¡¯d be a little more apprehensive about pairing myself with the League, but with Boss now unlikely to be a friend, I needed to make better bedfellows. The sooner I could have the organization on my side, the better for us all.


    ¡°So tell us about the piss river, Gunquake.¡± Clara sat down on one of the chairs against the wall and tapped away at the laptop.


    [Oh. So after I sent Roy away, I told Boss that I wasn¡¯t going to kill him.]


    ¡°Oof.¡± Roxy shook her head and crossed her arms. ¡°So you got some suspension without pay as well, I assume?¡±


    [He implied I was a stupid tool that owed him my life, so I told him I would kill him instead.]


    Her face contorted into a grimace. ¡°Guess you guys don¡¯t have a great Human Resources department?¡±


    Clara looked up from the screen. ¡°Explains why your kill-switch has been activated three times since I arrived.¡±


    [That tracks.]


    ¡°So now¡­¡± the super rubbed at her forehead, ¡°you¡¯ll probably have assassins after you?¡±


    [This is a reasonably safe place for me to be if that is the case.]


    ¡°I can think of somewhere safer than the spare room~,¡± Clara mused from the side.


    Roxy scowled at her. ¡°I¡¯ll take you outside and hose you down with cold water if you don¡¯t stop.¡±


    ¡°In front of Gunquake?¡± She narrowed her eyes as the super clenched her fists.


    [Not that I dislike the errant banter, but I feel as though we are entering a new era. Our situation has escalated and there are certain things we need to be a lot more serious about.]


    In saying that, part of me hoped moments like this would last forever. The techie faux-flirting with me to wind the super up, while Roxy herself was stealing doe-eyed glances at me anytime I put my foot down about the future. It was a snapshot of something I hoped to keep close to me, no matter what befell us on the road ahead. Three weirdos thinking they could make a difference and be happy, outside of the control of others.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, Dubs. What are you suggesting?¡±


    [It will take me a while to equip myself fully. I will need Clara¡¯s assistance in getting new stims and nutrition canisters, as well as the necessary Public Defender orders.]


    The techie nodded. ¡°Already halfway on the canisters, but the stims are going to be difficult to swing, Gunquake. Not legally, anyway. Once the League of Heroes signs you up, you¡¯ll have wider access to some ammunition and gear - but I will still be moonlighting as your personal gadget-witch.¡±


    [An interesting title.]


    ¡°I was going to say personal plaything, Gunquake, but the chances of Rockslide pulling one or more of my limbs off is reaching my personal risk threshold.¡±


    The super sighed and waved her hand at Clara. ¡°We need to marry you off or something. You get worse by the day.¡±


    ¡°I have everything I want in this room, sister.¡± She gave Roxy a warm smile. ¡°Mostly in case 23-B, which you should never open under any circumstance.¡±


    ¡°Why do you even have that thing here?¡±


    [More importantly, I will need to reach out to the two other supers in your group to get them to vouch for me.]


    Roxy gave Clara another glare before turning her attention back to me. ¡°You need my help with that?¡±


    [It would be best if it is solely my effort, as much as I appreciate the offer to spend time with you. I already have Belle¡¯s contact number.]


    The expression the first half of my sentence elicited was quickly replaced by a scowl due to the second half. ¡°Seriously? Should I be worried¡­? I mean, how much do you know about her and her¡­¡±


    ¡°Sex cult,¡± Clara interjected.


    [Is it really that? Makes sense, considering her proposition.]


    ¡°Proposition?¡± The super narrowed her eyes. ¡°Does everyone flirt with you now? What¡¯s the fucking deal with that?¡±


    [She accosted me when I was on a contract. Apparently her financier lives in the same skyscraper.]


    Roxy continued with the glare, but nodded. ¡°Interesting. How do you propose to approach that, then?¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The techie shuffled beneath her laptop. ¡°I suggest plenty of protection. Her followers will be hard¡­ pressed to accept you having some alone time with their leader.¡±


    ¡°Clara.¡±


    [A more neutral meeting place seems more advisable, then. I¡¯m not looking to beat anyone off just to gain her favor. What else can you tell me about her?]


    The super finished flexing her fingers before responding. ¡°She¡¯s actually a decent support hero, but her mind is too far in the cult shit. I don¡¯t know whether it¡¯s for money or power, because she doesn¡¯t seem to gain either of that, despite being in charge of the weird ''church'' they run.¡±


    [So the challenge is to sway her without allowing myself to be indoctrinated or disrobed.]


    ¡°I would literally break your dick off.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll be a jealous bitch after all the bullshit you put me through. Straight off and I¡¯ll lob it into the wasteland.¡±


    ¡°I know the best company for synthetic replacements,¡± Clara murmured, not willing to look away from the screen.


    ¡°And you,¡± Roxy continued, her eyes actually glowing, ¡°I¡¯ll be telling mom about you.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Clara gasped, some actual shock on her face. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t¡­ you can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see how many extra servings you get next holiday once she knows how you act.¡±


    The techie pulled a face and looked back between me and the super. ¡°I¡­ apologize.¡±


    Roxy immediately turned a pointed finger at me. ¡°You better not get yourself into physical harm either. Just because Belle is a support hero doesn¡¯t mean you can do some bullshit that requires she saves you so she can realize her worth as a superhero.¡±


    [Ah. Onto plan C then.]


    ¡°What was the other plan, Dubs?¡± She took a step closer to me. ¡°What was¡­¡±


    She trailed off as we all turned to the doorway.


    Sensors to the road went off in our respective visions.


    ¡°If it¡¯s some asshole come to assassinate you, they¡¯ve walked into the wrong fucking neighborhood.¡± Roxy gestured for me to follow outside, just as Clara grabbed and chucked me a ten-mag. Nerve, given the topmost shell color.


    In and loaded.


    As the super and I stepped out onto her porch and then the grass, the small dragonfly drone hovered out beside us - just to the upper left of me.


    A vehicle. Dark black, although slightly faded due to age. I exchanged a glance with the super and she crossed her arms. We walked over to the edge of her garden just as the vehicle slowed to a stop just beyond mine. They were keeping some distance, which was a good idea.


    Door popped open and a man stepped out, clean shaven and middle-aged. Wide-brimmed brown hat on his head which matched the long overcoat he wore. Deep gray suit on underneath that. Worn leather driving gloves.


    He raised his hands up in the air to show that he was no threat, although it did give the glimpse of the weapon stowed on his side. Probably intentional.


    ¡°Hail. Forgive my intrusion.¡± He lowered his hands and took a few steps toward us. ¡°My name is Anthony Khalis. I¡¯m from the World Government.¡±


    I held up my hand, and he stopped in place. A good twenty feet away, but that was much closer than I was comfortable with.


    [What is your purpose here, Mr Khalis?]


    ¡°It is you I seek, actually. Through some of our investigative channels, we have heard there has been a sizable bounty put on your head. It is courtesy to ensure you are aware, as you are not exactly a¡­ known entity in our system.¡±


    ¡°Just how much is the bounty?¡± Roxy asked, her brow still furrowed.


    Not that I expected her to turn me in - unless she really was tired of everyone with a pulse flirting with me - but if it was a considerable amount, then perhaps we could fake my death somehow and steal the treasure for our own purposes.


    ¡°It¡¯s not for me to say, Miss Rockslide. Normal procedure has the target accompany myself or one of my fellow officers to our closest headquarters, where we can go over such detail and perhaps offer some manner of safety.¡±


    The super tilted her head to me and pulled a face, clearly unimpressed that I had already invited bullshit into our neighborhood, but waiting to see what I wanted to do. In fairness, she had brought the Five Eyes gang here first, even if it was inadvertent.


    I deflated and relaxed my shoulders.


    [Fine, I was just killing time today, anyway. Could I see some identification first, however?]


    ¡°Of course, sir.¡± He smiled, and his hand went into the inside of his jacket. ¡°Promise not to laugh at my ID photo, though.¡±


    [I promise.]


    Reflex kicked in just as soon as I finished speaking. His eyes widened at seeing the change in my body language, but by then it was too late, and I emptied half the mag into him in quick succession.


    ¡°What the fuck, Dubs?¡± Roxy turned to me as he dropped to the ground just as quickly as the empty cartridges made a mess on her lawn.


    [Throw the car, now.]


    To her credit, she didn¡¯t hesitate at all. Short leap away from me to land beside it, and she grabbed it and twisted - throwing it into the air at a high angle. We watched the vehicle spin like a frisbee against the backdrop of the blue sky.


    And then it exploded.


    A pulse of amber light before smoke and debris billowed from what remained, the vibration of the blast hitting our ears and vibrating through the ground just after. Roxy watched the wreckage careen down into the ground further off, before turning to me.


    ¡°Explain!¡±


    The drone followed me over as I went to the unconscious man. Five Nerve shots had overloaded his system and caused his brain to shut-off, but he was mostly uninjured. I dragged him over to my kill-room before propping him up against the wall in a sitting position.


    [Looks like assassination attempt number one thwarted. Sloppy work. Probably too eager.]


    ¡°Not to sound like a dullard, but how did you tell?¡± Roxy stepped beside me and crouched down to glare at the man.


    [He is wearing worn boots rather than dress shoes. Although his suit is correct, he is missing the tie pin that has the World Government logo on it. Firearm isn¡¯t standard issue. Usually for a profile case like this they¡¯d send two employees minimum, often with police presence. He referred to me as the ''target'' rather than something more neutral.]


    ¡°Fuck.¡± She raised her eyebrows at me. ¡°I suppose the exploding car helped seal that deal, huh?¡±


    [A lucky guess, based on what I would do in his shoes.]


    ¡°Someone that Boss sent?¡±


    [Hmm. Potentially. Hopefully, we can get some answers when he wakes up. There is a chance he wouldn¡¯t want to waste any further assets in sending Agents against me. A general bounty might increase the odds that I am attacked, and it would be no skin off his back if they fail. He only needs one to succeed.]


    ¡°Well, we should call this guy Agent L, because he sure ate some shit.¡± Roxy tilted her head. ¡°Maybe¡­ literally?¡±


    I moved his hat away to reveal a bald head. Some manner of thick sludge had started to leak from his ears and nose. Roxy put her hand to his neck and waited for a couple of seconds.


    ¡°No pulse. Did your Nerve shot¡­?¡±


    //Clara: No.


    //Clara: Kill-switch. Safe to say it was someone Boss sent.


    How did I feel in finally seeing one of the other Agents? In truth, rather disappointed. Not that I had any idea about the capabilities this man probably had, but his bluff hadn¡¯t worked. The soft approach was probably smarter than trying to kill the man who wouldn¡¯t die outright, but it was too sloppy.


    Even after we stripped him of anything worthwhile and Roxy threw him out in the direction of the car, I felt pretty sour about it.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you knew so much about the World Government stuff,¡± the super said, as she watched the limp body spiral off into the distance. Certainly easier than digging a shallow grave.


    [Hmm. I do not, or rather¡­ I don¡¯t recall why I know it.]


    ¡°Something from your past?¡±


    I nodded, and we started back toward the house, accompanied by the drone.


    [I feel like things are unraveling. More of the old me is coming to light the further I push myself. Not only in combat, but with my personal relationships. A lot of it seems to be on a subconscious level, but¡­ I am content with how things are progressing.]


    ¡°Good.¡± She placed her hand on my back. ¡°All because you had a bath, right? I did say it would change your life.¡±


    [That is most definitely the reason. Although it was a mistake for me to put on my new gear while still having all the bandages on.]


    She rolled her eyes as we stepped up onto the porch and back into the house. ¡°And I bet you can¡¯t take it off yourself easily, huh? You need my help to strip down? I know your plans, Dubs. I need to win that duel first, remember?¡±


    ¡°Which you won¡¯t,¡± Clara interjected as we entered the dining room.


    ¡°I thought you were in my corner, gremlin?¡± Roxy stood at the doorway and crossed her arms as I went to sit at the surgical table.


    ¡°Nobody ships you both harder than me.¡± Clara closed down her laptop screen. ¡°But I will push whichever of you needs the encouragement at the time. I expect Gunquake to give it his all just as you will, Rockslide.¡±


    [I think that should be something we¡¯ll plan out, now that I¡¯ve sworn off getting injured. Couple of days?]


    The techie stood from the chair and brushed her overalls down. ¡°There¡¯s an abandoned office block penned for demolition. I feel as though that would be the perfect battleground.¡±


    I nodded. Out in our back garden was a bad idea, especially if she would actually try without holding back. Plus, now that I had Reflex, a wide open space was terrible for her. Giving her the same treatment I had just shown Agent L would get me a one-way ticket back to sleeping in the kill room. We would play fair, and for keeps.


    [Make whatever arrangements are necessary for two day¡¯s time then, if that suits you, Roxy?]


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She shuddered. ¡°If you¡¯re ready for it.¡±


    [Just need to let my arm prepare to be broken again, for the eighth time this week.]


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll do a lot worse than that.¡± She screwed up her mouth. ¡°I mean, not intentionally. I don¡¯t want to kill you.¡±


    [As if you could.]


    Quiet tension sunk between us as we stared at each other, before Clara cleared her throat.


    ¡°Actually, you¡¯re missing one important piece of gear, Gunquake. I¡¯d like to do some testing with your new gauntlet if you have nothing pressing planned for today?¡±


    [Excellent. I think that would be a decent low-stakes way to spend my day, assuming no further assassins turn up.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°Clara, you need to help us with home defense. I know you¡¯re already working around the clock to fix Dubs up, but I¡¯d really feel more comfortable knowing we were all in your hands.¡±


    The techie smiled. ¡°Only on two conditions. I get to sleep here a few nights, and you pick up some of that bread I like. The good shit.¡±


    ¡°Fine, but it¡¯ll be the sofa, okay? Unless you want to sleep in here?¡± She pulled a face.


    ¡°Oh, tempting. Still has a bit of Gunquake¡¯s odor to it, though.¡±


    [I apologize, I could do with a bath.]


    ¡°Room just needs airing out.¡± She put her hands on her hips and looked around. ¡°Maybe a little oil and lubricant and it¡¯d smell like home.¡±


    ¡°You are not turning this into a workshop. I told you before.¡± Roxy made it clear she was putting her foot down by doing exactly that. ¡°I¡¯m usually soft on you, Clara, but this isn¡¯t negotiable.¡±


    The techie pouted, but gave a nod.


    ¡°If you two want to play with the gauntlet, I¡¯m going to go have a bath - and then you¡¯re welcome to it after, Dubs. I¡¯ll check your bandages and stuff.¡±


    [Please, that sounds amazing. Shall we, Clara?]


    ¡°Can think of nothing better, Gunquake. Did you want the binoculars again, Rockslide?¡±


    ¡°Clara.¡±


    It amused me that the super had previously threatened to tell her mom about Clara¡¯s inappropriate behavior, and went to show how close they really were. I imagined they spent time together back with Roxy¡¯s family at the holidays. It was oddly simple to paint an imagined dynamic even though I didn¡¯t know the people or had any recent memories I could draw the parallel from.


    Maybe all my past wouldn¡¯t come back to me as spikes of surprising memories, but a gradual realization over parts of reality that had always been there¡­ just shaded over.


    [I¡¯m feeling pretty dry, so I won¡¯t go too far.]


    Clara nodded as she put the case on the floor near the training dummies. ¡°Certain you want to avoid everything he has given to you, Gunquake?¡±


    [Yeah. I will suffer, but I need to be sure I¡¯m not under any untoward influence.]


    ¡°Understood. Perhaps convenient that you have a delivery from Mr Michaels tonight then, as I have added some emergency canisters to that itinerary.¡±


    [Oh?]


    ¡°They seemed willing enough to believe I was your personal assistant. Which isn¡¯t too far from the truth¡­ on most matters. I respected your privacy and didn¡¯t check what else you had arriving, Gunquake.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at her as she unclipped the case, the green light of her own maintaining eye contact.


    [Somehow I don¡¯t believe that. If you can at least feign ignorance, then I won¡¯t send it back.]


    ¡°You drive a hard bargain, Gunquake.¡± She grinned and flipped open the case to reveal the weapon within.


    [Oh. Now that, I like.]

 52 - Deliberate Actions

    In some ways, it warmed me to know that Boss was sweating bullets over an Agent leaving his control. Certainly, he must have known what I was before this. His knee-jerk reaction to kill me off if he couldn¡¯t keep me could only mean that I was something uncontrollable at my normal strength. He¡¯d been foolhardy in thinking he could keep me barking to his tune, but after Clara had opened the cage, I was gone.


    My fist lashed out just in front of the target dummy, before the spinning blade popped out the front for a few rotations, zipping back into the mechanism on the back of my hand. I stopped and relaxed, humid in my new gear and running out of steam.


    ¡°Fantastic work, Gunquake.¡± Clara smiled at me, her chin in her palms as she sat and watched. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    It was definitely an upgrade to my previous gauntlet. Even ignoring the pop-blade, the metal was higher grade, lighter, and affixed to my arm better. The whole thing fit under my trench-coat fine and could apparently take quite a beating if what she said was to be believed.


    [It is a joy to use. I only wish I had more energy to practice with.]


    Roxy had joined us a little while ago, back in her super suit, but relaxing on her deckchair and seemingly enjoying the show more than the techie. ¡°Can¡¯t you just pour a little water in the side of your neck?¡±


    ¡°If you are intending on assassinating him, sure.¡± Clara turned around to scowl at the super. ¡°And I can¡¯t let you do that.¡±


    [It goes straight into my bloodstream, pretty much, so needs to be a certain mixture.]


    I shrugged and took a couple of steps over to where the techie was sitting.


    [You want custody of my corpse if I die so you can try to resurrect me or something?]


    ¡°Or something,¡± she said with a nod.


    ¡°Did I not warn you, Clara? And you shouldn¡¯t be encouraging her, Dubs.¡± Roxy scowled at us and put her arm over her eyes to block the sunlight. ¡°Beats me why I am sitting out here getting third-wheeled by a dry-docked ship instead of working out like I should be.¡±


    [Is it because you are half expecting another assassin to drop out of the sky to kill me?]


    ¡°Half, yeah.¡±


    [Is the other half because you just want to spend time with me?]


    ¡°Oh, fuck off. There¡¯s no need to make my life miserable.¡±


    [Is it then unfair of me to ask for your assistance in getting ready for a bath? Or I could ask Clara¡­]


    Roxy sat up and scowled at me. ¡°Get your ass upstairs already, Dubs.¡±


    As the techie gave me a grin, I walked up into the house behind the super, all the way to the bathroom.


    She put my hood down and removed my creaking trench-coat to hang on the back of the door, a scowl still on her face as she worked on the clips and buckles of my tactical gear.


    [I can probably handle my lower half. I know I¡¯m asking a lot of you.]


    She placed my vest on the counter before helping with my undershirt. It rolled off over my head to reveal my bandaged torso.


    ¡°It¡¯s just very conflicting, Dubs. I¡¯m attracted to the danger, but you never seem to stop getting into trouble. I don¡¯t want my heart broken, but I also want to be the one by your side through all the shit.¡±


    [You always will be, as the leader of the group.]


    She unraveled the bandages, revealing the sensitive pink skin that was still healing over.


    ¡°More than just the group leader, Dubs don¡¯t be dense.¡±


    I stood in silence as she removed the last of the wrappings, my torso fully exposed and looking rather beaten up - yet great considering the circumstances. Her finger ran around the fresh skin covering where the holes in my chest used to be, before her eyes went up to mine.


    Roxy paused for a moment before moving her hand up at the side of my face. ¡°You¡¯re a popular guy, Dubs. If it¡¯s not me you want then-¡±


    She stopped as I placed a finger to her lips.


    [It is only you I want.]


    As my hand brushed away from her mouth and along her cheek, she bit her lip. ¡°Two days, huh? I don¡¯t mind Clara, it just makes me feel like I¡¯m¡­ further back in the queue when you two talk like that. Maybe horny innuendo isn¡¯t my style, but I want us and I don¡¯t want to share.¡±


    [Two days. I promise you it is worth the wait. Here.]


    I stepped forward and put my arm around her. She leaned in close against me and placed her hands on my back. Her head rested against my chest, and I gently placed the side of mine atop her hair. The super sighed, and we just embraced for a little while.


    Eventually, she moved away and shot me a coy smile. ¡°Is that a synapse-controlled cybernetic shotgun-arm in your pants, or are you just pleased to see me?¡±


    I stared at her blankly and watched as the color already in her cheeks went from a soft blush all the way to a beet red.


    ¡°Oh, gods, I can¡¯t believe I really said that.¡± She let go of me and waved her way out of the room. ¡°Enjoy your bath.¡±


    Well, she was right about that not being her style, at least. Points for effect. I held my gun-arm up. Perhaps bonus points for being flattering as well.


    Hit the taps so the bath could fill while I got out of the rest of my clothes. I¡¯d need to practice getting in and out of my gear so that I wasn¡¯t relying on one of them every day. Bubble juice went in and started to create the white clouds of pure bliss. Oh, how I¡¯d missed a good bath.


    Eyes went to the door as I took my goggles off.


    It was hard to recall if I¡¯d loved before. There was a part of me that was sure I was built only for killing and combat¡­ but I also seemed to have some natural charisma or magnetism. Or perhaps, unnatural.


    But¡­ then again, maybe not. Clara¡¯s constant insinuations were just how she spoke to me, and it was clear she only had an interest in me as far as my cybernetics could take me. Belle seemed to be some deviant that ran a cult, so anyone with a spare ear to hear her ¡®teachings¡¯ would probably be a target. Roy just liked to talk shit, our shared banter from similar past experience making us closer friends.


    Roxy, however¡­


    I finished stripping down and stepped into the bath. The only thing stopping this from being a divine experience was the ache of dehydration threatening to turn my brain into dust. Using Reflex had sped up the process - and I could always take a canister from downstairs if I was desperate¡­ but I wanted to know if Boss had also been suppressing me somehow with the juice he had been giving me.


    Settled into the warmth and relaxed. Water felt extra hot on the parts of me still healing, but it softened up my muscles. I rubbed at my eyes and dabbed a bit of wetness around the part of my face that was still skin.


    Taps off and I tried to circle back to my segmented thoughts.


    Roxy was genuine. Became my friend in earnest even though she was just sent here to spy on me. Wanted to be more than neighbors despite my flaws. Let me use the magic liquid that made bubbles. Maybe after the League meeting tomorrow, we¡¯d be spending more quality time together that didn¡¯t revolve around patching me up. Or even the day after, with the duel done, maybe we could spend time doing things that made her blush that bright scarlet again. It was cute.


    I sunk a little lower in the bath.


    Best I consider some of the more important things going on in my life - fully aware that she was clearly number one.


    Second of all was the super group itself. The duo downstairs had clued me in a little more on what to expect with Belle¡­ but I was no closer to finding an angle on how to convince her to be a better support hero for the squad. Given my desire to break my normal body against every enemy who showed themselves, having someone who could prevent that would stop Roxy from glaring at me so often.


    I blinked my eyes as an uncomfortable feeling ran through my neck. Like my brain had just defecated down my spinal column. My hand raised, and I flexed my fingers. Hmm. A dollop of warm ice cream to represent some of my past life sloughing from brain and landing somewhere meaningful? Maybe, but whatever knowledge it had granted didn¡¯t put itself center stage.


    Or it could have been a brain hemorrhage or something. I¡¯d just have to see if I keeled over or had an eureka moment. Part of me knew that Clara would receive any warnings if my health was in critical danger, and Roxy would kick the door open in an attempt to rescue me.


    So, with silence as my only companion, I assumed I was fine.


    Put a pin in the thoughts of Belle. Some leads to chase up that wouldn¡¯t get me seduced or evangelized at.


    Wren was a different matter. Head stuck between a marriage of convenience and her money-focus, I wondered why she actually became a hero. Did she have super powers? She had mostly run recon on our team mission, so I didn¡¯t see her in action. Might be hard to convince her to take the job seriously if her heart was elsewhere. I¡¯d need more information from Roxy, perhaps.


    Then there was the League. What they wanted from me and what they knew about me. Would they trust me more knowing I had betrayed Boss, or would I have run out of use for them? Boss and Romanov both wanted League roster and hero placements - but for what reason? General intel was my first guess, but it could be for a bigger plan.


    Lastly, or as final as my dry brain could remember, was Boss himself. Who he was and where. What lengths would he go to silence me? It was too late, in a way. Roxy and Roy both knew things. After my meeting tomorrow, the League would know things. This could be his tightly wound ball of secrecy quickly unraveling, which would explain his panic.


    Plenty for me to be worried about.


    I stretched my hand out again and looked at my fingers. There was a time I had ten of them¡­ I was sure.


    Blinked away the fog and turned my mind like a heavy cannon to point at the duel.


    As much as I wanted to lose, I had to try to win...


    Raised my hand up again and watched the water slide down my arm. Why did I keep looking at it? Subconsciously, I was trying to tell myself something, but I wasn¡¯t quite getting it yet.


    Roxy understood why we had to fight, which was good. If I were truthful, sometimes I wanted to call it off. Allow the dam to open and reveal whatever force was ready to surge forth. But I needed to know she was strong enough to do what it took to beat me. Take her role as a leader seriously. Ensure that we both had a secure place in the group and that our relationship wouldn¡¯t put into question our loyalties or agenda.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Part of me worried that she¡¯d get annoyed with me trying to take charge of things, because¡­


    Well, because I had been the leader of my own squad.


    I shivered, despite the warmth. Another nugget of truth. Made some sense why I had started this warpath in getting Roxy¡¯s group ship-shape. She still held the reins. I wasn¡¯t about to take that away from her - but I¡¯d assist her to whatever level she required.


    Brought up my hand again and winced.


    Maybe I was letting Boss off too easily by thinking he had thrown a strop and ran off. He was surely smarter than that, and any plan to kill me off would have more steps than just throwing inept assassins my way. His initial reaction might even be part of the plot to catch me off-guard, as he surely had contingencies in place for when his Agents went rogue. The more I thought about that, the more like reality it seemed.


    In that case, was he forcing my hand to fall into a trap he had planned?


    I gazed at said hand for a moment, before my eyes went a little lower to the STAR device implanted just beneath my wrist.


    Strange. It was as if something was trying to get me to ignore it.


    Heartbeat thudded in my chest as mild panic swirled around. What if he had set a secondary kill switch within that device? He could be tracking me right now, potentially with a way of killing me with ease, and I was just sitting and enjoying bubbles.


    Left the water and stood on the bath mat. Pulled up my compression shorts and stepped out of the bathroom, dripping water everywhere. Left arm out so I could keep an eye on my wrist so it didn¡¯t escape.


    ¡°Gunquake?¡± Clara stood in the doorway of the kitchen. ¡°Random fugue state or temporary exhibitionist?¡±


    [Dining room.]


    She nodded and stepped through as I made it to the bottom of the stairs without my feet slipping on the wooden boards. As soon as I saw those green lights come on, I turned to the techie.


    [STAR device. Might be compromised.]


    ¡°Shit. Table.¡±


    An odd request, but I assumed she meant for me to lie down. I did so, the leather of the surgical table squeaking as I tried to get my damp body into position.


    Cases opened, and she came back over, clamped something circled tightly just before my left elbow, and then another on my forearm before the device. They both started to hum with some kind of energy.


    ¡°I did say STAR devices weren¡¯t my jam, but for you, Gunquake¡­ I¡¯ll do anything.¡±


    Footsteps by the door that I couldn¡¯t see, and Roxy gasped. ¡°What¡¯s happening? You¡¯re not taking his arm off, are you?¡±


    I watched Clara turn her eyes to the super. ¡°If you have an axe handy, that would be nice. We do not know yet.¡± She vanished again.


    Roxy appeared at my right side and put her hand on my gun-arm. ¡°Seriously, Dubs? Can¡¯t even have a bath without being mutilated now?¡±


    [Apologies. I realized that Boss may have a manner of controlling me in this device, and that he might be playing me for a fool.]


    ¡°How so?¡±


    The techie appeared on my left again, a couple of electronic gadgets in her hand that she propped up on my stomach and leg.


    [He was acting too calm in allowing me to cozy up with you and the League, only to lose his marbles when I made my inevitable betrayal. Too convenient. My contracts had always been about killing criminals and villains. Roy may have had his issues, but he was still a superhero. Boss would have known I wouldn¡¯t kill him.]


    ¡°Oh.¡± Roxy¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°So he isn¡¯t mad and trying to kill you?¡±


    [Too soon to say. My primary assumption is that he would want to reel me back in to being his faithful tool.]


    Clara connected the two tight hoops with a couple of wires, which plugged into a square box of black plastic. A red light bloomed and then, with the flick of a switch, fresh pain ran up and down my forearm between the two clamps gripping me. I winced and exhaled through my nose.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get used to the pain, Gunquake.¡± Her green eyes looked down at me. ¡°I have digitally severed the synapse connection temporarily between your STAR and the rest of you. You may find you are unable to use your cybernetics, but please trust the process.¡±


    I nodded briefly, as my vocalizer didn¡¯t seem to want to allow me to talk.


    The super drummed her fingers on my weapon and looked across at the wall. Brain was soaking in what I had told her¡­ and rather than spark into more questions, she was swirling it around and getting a feel for the next step. Acting as more of a leader.


    While Clara fiddled with part of my arm that I couldn¡¯t see while laying down, I stared at the ceiling and felt annoyed at myself. Too fired up with my new friends and passion for living, I had allowed my tired mind to accept the front Boss had put on. Nevermind being too tough to kill, I was too valuable an asset to lose.


    ¡°So,¡± Roxy looked back down at me, ¡°he isn¡¯t going to target you directly. You were the most complacent and willing to do his bidding when you were all depressed and shit, right? Thought you couldn¡¯t have anything more. So he will try to take all your new things away. Grind you back down to being worthless and reliant on him.¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°Asshole.¡± She shook her head and moved away. Sounded like she left the room.


    ¡°I¡¯m currently reformatting your STAR device with what I use. It¡¯s not quite equivalent, but the tech is smart enough to pick and choose what works. I also have diagnostic scans running on the physical aspect of it, Gunquake.¡± Her face briefly turned to me. ¡°If it is compromised, we might have to take the hand, as the position in your wrist is¡­ there is a reason we have less invasive options these days.¡±


    A lot of me was non-standard. Gas-mask instead of functional mouth. Solid gun-arm instead of something detachable. Embedded old STAR device in my wrist. I felt like a joke of a puppet. Put together wrong. The bare minimum to complete the task I had been saved for.


    I would never go back to him.


    He knew I was smart and capable, especially if he had reason to believe I was getting my old memories back. He had tried the kill-switch, but did he know we had broken it? Otherwise, why three attempts?


    Roxy entered the room with a towel in her hand, which she used to pat down my legs, skipping up toward my chest after. ¡°Can¡¯t have you catching a cold, can we?¡± She gave me a glum smile.


    ¡°Good news, Gunquake. Nothing out of the ordinary with the hardware, so your hand is safe.¡±


    The super seemed less enthused. ¡°I am half surprised you didn¡¯t take it anyway.¡±


    Clara shrugged. ¡°I would never force cybernetics on anyone. My preferences are my own, and even the League doesn¡¯t allow elective surgery for that purpose.¡± She tilted her glance at me. ¡°Fifteen rejected applications. I believe they just filter anything from me straight into the trash now.¡±


    I tried to speak, but my vocalizer still wasn¡¯t working. Breathing wasn¡¯t an issue, but I couldn¡¯t raise my arm either. Despite living like this for five years, I hadn¡¯t considered that the STAR was an important part of my¡­ internal circuitry? It connected with things, but I was under the impression the important parts were stored in my brain. Maybe they were, and this was an ancillary disconnect the techie had enacted. Either way, I wasn¡¯t sure I even cared to know exactly.


    As long as Clara did, then I¡¯d delegate that stress to her.


    Roxy looked up at her invisible screens before pulling a face. ¡°They want me on shift an hour early tonight, so I have about an hour more here before I¡¯ll shoot off.¡±


    ¡°And leave us to our own devices, Rockslide?¡± Clara paused her prodding. ¡°Literally, for a change.¡±


    ¡°I dunno. Maybe you can break him in for me?¡± Roxy gave the woman a wink, clearly opting to change track with the current dynamic.


    It seemed to have an effect, as the techie paused again and looked over at the super. After trying to read her face for a couple of seconds, she returned to my arm. ¡°Very clever, sister. You are betting that my loyalty to you is greater than my desire to actually bed with Gunquake.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, why phrase it like that?¡± She shook her head, regret all over her face. ¡°And it is, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Sorry, I¡¯m trying to focus here. I¡¯m giving my all to this man.¡±


    Roxy relinquished her grip of my weapon and threw her hands up in resignation. ¡°Always find a way, don¡¯t you? I don¡¯t have the brainpower for this. I¡¯m off to the gym to warm up.¡±


    And with that, she vanished.


    Clara worked on my arm for a good handful of seconds before looking over at the door. After a moment, she turned her eyes back to me and leaned a little closer.


    ¡°My loyalty to her is above all else. She isn¡¯t wrong.¡± She moved back away. ¡°But if she ever dies, then I have first dibs on you, okay?¡±


    I¡­ nodded slowly, if only because it was the most nuanced and polite response I could give at present. Although I could not imagine Roxy ever meeting such a fate, it stood to reason I¡¯d still be close to the techie after such a situation. Whether that would lead into anything more wasn¡¯t something I could promise or cared to think about.


    Of course, she could just be trying to wind me up. More mind games than Boss¡­


    I narrowed my eyes at her. No, couldn¡¯t be.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking more about us actually, Gunquake. About our roles, I mean.¡± She didn¡¯t turn around, but held up a small tweezer-like tool in her hand and spun it. ¡°You need some way of getting around that isn¡¯t a beat-up bike or these two gross flesh-legs. V-Force jump packs are a possibility, but they don¡¯t help you on the way back down.¡±


    The technology to prevent gravity from breaking my legs would be too weighty and cumbersome for constant use, as fun as being able to jump onto buildings would be. Only took one miss.


    Tech supers had a lower life expectancy and active duty. Usually just not built well enough for what the other actual supers could handle. Injuries were career defining, if not ending. Certain villains could end an unprepared tech super just the same as if they were a civilian off the streets. Still, I lived for that kind of risk.


    ¡°Grappling hook is a possibility, but you are short on functional arms. If it¡¯s on your left you can¡¯t climb, and on your right you wouldn¡¯t be able to shoot. Anything that hovers or flies is¡­ beyond our financial budget, even with the League setting you up. Oh, you should be able to speak now.¡±


    [Test? Ah, excellent. What about an empowered artefact?]


    Clara looked over her shoulder so that I could see her eyes roll. ¡°Unless you have one hidden under your dirty mattress, Gunquake, it is unlikely we could find one out in the wider world without years of travel.¡±


    [Any we could steal?]


    ¡°Well¡­ you are meant to be more on the straight and narrow, are you not? Vigilante justice against villains would not go over well at the League once you are officiated, and bounties wouldn¡¯t point to anyone with such an item.¡±


    [We¡¯ll put a pin in that for now, then. What else do you have for me?]


    ¡°Once Rockslide has left, we¡¯ll get nice and comfortable on the couch and go through the Public Defender catalogue again and make a bigger order. I¡¯m sure you are aware that if you¡¯re to stand beside superheros, you need every trick up your sleeve.¡±


    [Two brains are better than one.]


    ¡°As long as you do the thinking with the right head.¡± Clara prodded my forearm with the tool. ¡°Which is yours, because although I will offer you all the advice I can, you will be the one in the firing line of whatever the League wants.¡±


    [Understood.]


    ¡°Good.¡± She moved away and clicked at the box, the light on it going dull.


    The humming power died off, and she set about unclipping the wires before loosening and removing the two metal bands from my arm. I shuffled my gun-arm, now able to move it as normal.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t feel any different. I¡¯ve just replaced the software and chip in your STAR device with something not provided by your Boss. All good to sit, Gunquake.¡±


    I grunted as I pushed myself up before turning to sit at the edge. Brought up my arm to take a look and other than indents in my skin where the bands had sat, there was nothing different. Screen was the same color, and the primary functions were no different. On the side of the bed was the upgrade chip Boss had gotten me a little while back.


    [One thing we won¡¯t be able to get is more Sanguine stakes.]


    She looked up from the cases she was putting things away in. ¡°At present, that is true. Unfortunately, the core of the ammunition is something kept secret. Once I crack that¡­ well, I¡¯ll find a way to fabricate things.¡±


    [Hmm. Hopefully I won¡¯t have such a dire need for them. Oh, I should probably go get dressed.]


    ¡°Please, there¡¯s only so much overstimulation I can take.¡± She smiled. ¡°Go get suited up, Gunquake, and we¡¯ll go test out your Quake shot.¡±


    I didn¡¯t need asking twice. Was already back in the bathroom before my brain could consider¡­ well, anything else. Partially because of the dehydration, but I only needed to survive a few more hours.


    Base layers were easy enough to put on. Belt, manageable. Tactical vest¡­ required I pressed the side of my body against the edge of the door frame to get the clips closed. Awkward, but now with the plates and pouches already in position, it wasn¡¯t as dire as I had imagined. Boots on, and then goggles, balaclava, and finally trench-coat.


    Took a little while longer with only one hand, but I had completed the task.


    Stood and looked in the mirror, the first time I had fully seen my Gunquake setup. This was¡­ me. Unequivocally. The wasteland loner look with the coat and goggles. The tactical gear of my past. The aura of functional professionalism that would fit a superhero.


    Gunquake.


    I¡¯d said and heard it enough times now for it to stick. In a way, it had helped set me away from Boss. Being able to rename myself, and draw a line in the sand for where my new life started. He still wavered in the background, keen to either poach me back or kill me off - but I fancied my chances.


    Gave a bit more time for literal reflection before I tidied up the bathroom and left. Clara was already waiting by the front door with the case of shells and something smaller on top.


    ¡°Ear protection. About time we looked after your hearing before you get some tinnitus you can¡¯t regenerate over, Gunquake.¡± She waved two buds in the air. ¡°They are smart tech, and repress loud or sharp bursts of noise, but will leave your normal range of hearing unaffected.¡±


    [Should have started with these first time we met.]


    ¡°Didn¡¯t know how much I¡¯d like you when we first met.¡± She smiled and gestured outside. ¡°Best we do this somewhere private that won¡¯t damage the house. Rockslide is only a single step away from tossing me toward the city to get rid of me.¡±


    [Perhaps you should invest in a parachute.]


    ¡°Sounds like a side-hustle in the making, as I¡¯m sure you won¡¯t be entirely satiated with a League salary. Assuming you make the cut, Gunquake.¡±


    I rolled my eyes at her teasing and followed her around the house. We walked past my shooting range and further out into the wastes. A good few minutes before stopping near a dried-out cluster of jutting rocks.


    With little fanfare, she gestured me to lean forward - and she affixed the two protective buds to my ears. Other than the initial feeling of pressure, their presence was totally unnoticeable. I¡¯d really been missing out.


    Case opened, and she held out a Quake shell.


    My gun chamber clacked to receive the cartridge, and she inserted it, a little slower than necessary. Chamber closed, and she started to back away.


    [Should I be worried?]


    ¡°No, I just don¡¯t have your degree of apparent plot armor. There is a non-zero chance it either doesn¡¯t work, or works too well - and despite my predeliction for machined parts, I do not wish to go through the trauma of you inadvertently destroying my legs.¡±


    [Joy.]


    I exhaled through my re-breather, the filters spinning gently as I raised my gun-arm to point at the rocks.


    [To Quakeshot, then.]


    Trigger clicked.

 53 - Technical Review

    The payload of my Quake shot snapped out of the barrel of my gun-arm. Dust blew from the impact point where it struck the tall rock, and for a split second, I thought that was it.


    An intense gravity held my feet in place suddenly, as a burst of sound dulled by my ear-protection still rang in my head. I winced as the ground shook, pulses of force vibrating through the area in a wide circle from where the spent ammunition had struck.


    Dust and gravel slowly settled, and I regained control of my muscles a good five seconds after the initial burst. A pensive silence filled the wastes as I slowly turned my head to the techie.


    [I feel as though an explanation is necessary.]


    ¡°It¡¯s a quake.¡± She grinned and crossed her arms, looking as though she never doubted it would work in the first place. ¡°If you need more than that¡­ It¡¯s similar to a flashbang grenade, but instead of a blinding light there¡¯s a reversed-polarity semi-persistent V-Force-¡±


    [Yeah, yeah. It disorientates and stuns people for a short duration.]


    ¡°I can add confetti too, if you-¡±


    [I love it, Clara.]


    As far as a signature attack went, it might not be as flashy as something explosive or using exotic damage types¡­ but a stun went a long way. While the techie was busy feeling pleased with herself, I daydreamed of dropping from the rafters of a darkened warehouse, landing amongst a group of criminals with Quakeshot, then finishing them off with a Reflex full of Nerve shells.


    What a dream.


    I turned as Clara stepped up to retrieve the spent cartridge from the floor. ¡°If you could try to keep hold of these, Gunquake - as they have built in tech necessary for the V-Force activation, and it will save time and cost to reuse them."


    [I will do my best.]


    She looped her arm around mine and started walking me back to the house. ¡°We won¡¯t have many of those, but I think you¡¯ll put them to good use.¡±


    [You¡¯ll help me load up my magazines later?]


    ¡°I can think of three better uses of my time, but since it¡¯s you asking, Gunquake, my hands are all yours.¡±


    With my recent orders, I had enough ten-mags to have one for each ammo type. What she had said earlier was correct - I¡¯d need as many options as I could carry to keep up with my powered peers. Of course, in a way - I was already built for that. Even if I had a squad with me to go against supers previously, my ego told me I was the best of them.


    I stopped before we got to the house, and Clara relinquished her hold on me.


    [Do you want to do something naughty tonight?]


    ¡°Given our verbal swordplay throughout the day, I¡¯d need a little more context on what you are actually proposing.¡± She put her hands on her hips. ¡°That said, I¡¯m one hundred percent in, Gunquake.¡±


    [Yeah, I can tell. I¡¯m talking you, me, and a bounty. Split the credits fifty-fifty.]


    The techie bit her lip. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be resting. I have half a mind to tell on you.¡±


    I looked over at the house, and some sober thoughts sunk in. She had a point. With the meeting tomorrow with the League, I¡¯d be giving a terrible impression if I turned up with a broken arm and shredded suit. Unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t very good at sitting idle, and without kill contracts coming in¡­


    ¡°You have no stims or canisters. Any other day I¡¯m your ride or die, but I¡¯ll not encourage your self-destruction any longer.¡±


    [Let¡¯s talk stims then. Do you know what is in my current ones?]


    She nodded, and we continued moving. ¡°A painkiller that is banned in this city. Adrenaline shot. Muscle repair and healing accelerant. Some manner of steroids I''m unfamiliar with. None of it something that a civilian could buy over the counter. It makes finding a suitable replacement difficult.¡±


    [Could we make our own?]


    ¡°Eh.¡± She tilted her head to look up at me. ¡°I¡¯m flattered you think so highly of me, Gunquake. I am not a pharmacist, nor do I have the machinery or expertise to attempt such a feat. Even at the League, I wouldn¡¯t be able to get close to anything that could process the packs. Much less have a steady supply.¡±


    Reasonable. Although she had managed to dabble in everything I had asked her so far, there were limits to her knowledge and I couldn¡¯t expect her to solve all of my problems. That fact seemed to bug her, if her somewhat sour expression was anything to go by.


    [I suppose the ideal thing will be to find what options are available for my port version and then see how we can get stable access to the best kind.]


    ¡°Agreed. It will most likely be something that pales in comparison to what your Boss supplied¡­ which brings up the question of where he sourced them.¡± Her brow furrowed. ¡°The number of people who could mix their own are few - which might give us a lead on him.¡±


    [I¡¯ll leave that in your capable hands then.]


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky I live for this shit, Gunquake.¡± She stopped at the porch and looked back out to the wastes. ¡°My priority today is protection for the house, your next Public Defender order, and helping you unwrap my box later.¡± The techie gave me an exaggerated knowing wink.


    [Do you think Roxy will be annoyed?]


    ¡°Annoyed about what?¡± The super herself stepped out of the kitchen and into the lobby, holding a glass of water.


    [That I might have to call off the duel if I don¡¯t have stims to keep me at my best.]


    ¡°The fuck you will,¡± she scowled at us both. ¡°Clara, I don¡¯t care what you have to do. Literally, your life¡¯s goal is now to ensure Dubs is prepared for the duel. I won¡¯t forgive either of you if you fuck this up.¡± Roxy pointed a finger at us to accompany her glare before she pushed in between us. ¡°I¡¯m off to work.¡±


    We watched in silence as she stepped out into the garden before leaping off toward the city. Seemingly still holding the glass. Waited for a couple more hops before we made eye contact.


    ¡°I feel like a cybernetic pelvis is in your near future, Gunquake.¡±


    I rolled my eyes and gestured to the living room. Terrible of me to lie to her face, but we were already running the risk of having our heads pulled off without the insinuation the pair of us were doing anything on the side. And we¡­ were going to be. Just not the obvious things.


    We sat, and the Public Defender came out. Went through it cover to cover, going over ammunition types, accessories, and gadgets. Debated how much use I would get out of things, edge case scenarios, and how worthwhile it was carrying so much on my person.


    In all honesty, it was a really relaxing way to spend the early evening. Any of our usual flirting and innuendo was put aside as we talked shop. Almost reminded me of my past.


    Clara gave me a pat on the knee as we closed the catalogue. ¡°I need some water, Gunquake. That was quite the marathon.¡±


    [While I do not have a mouth to get dry, my eyes are tired from the effort. Do your eyes tire in a similar way?]


    She paused before she reached the door and looked back. ¡°In a way. It is more of a mental strain, rather than my eyes themselves getting tired.¡± A brief smile and then she was gone.


    I sat back on the soft couch. A little time to burn before we had to go meet up with Hal. Some mags to pack and my outfit to actually load up. Even with the looming meeting tomorrow, it felt odd to have no immediate threat or stress. No kill contract to run off to, or other reason to get maimed.


    Still, I had promised Roxy.


    My mind was still trying to click around Boss¡¯s angle. I felt foolish for not really knowing anything about him. Was he just a mobster taking on kill contracts? He had no problem with me being friendly with the supers and League, under the understanding that I¡¯d be a way in for him¡­ or something. A simple refusal over a contract wasn¡¯t enough to kill me off after five years of good work.


    So did he want me to push away from him?


    Yeah. I was pretty sure I understood it now. Having cooled off, the pieces were just the right shape to click together and complete the puzzle.


    Plausible deniability. If I hated Boss and he had cut me off, that would make my ascension into the League all the more believable. Become my enemy so that the heroes would accept me and assist me in thinking I¡¯d be against him.


    Then what?


    He¡¯d take it away so that I¡¯d come crawling back to my hitman job? There had to be something more that he wanted me for. If I could stand beside heroes, then my talents would be wasted punching thugs in alleyways.


    My eyes rose from the rampant speculation as the techie reentered the room with a glass.


    [Clara, you¡¯d tell me if you were Boss, right?]


    She smiled and leaned against the wall. ¡°Agent W, I thought you¡¯d never ask.¡±


    I froze. Left hand slowly closed into a fist as my muscles tensed up. Some natural adrenaline went around my system, feeling odd compared to the floor I was used to from my stims.


    The techie¡¯s smile widened, and she snorted, holding her hand up over her face to contain a chuckle. First time I had seen her laugh so much.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Gunquake.¡± She cooled and wafted her face with her hand. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for that opportunity for a while. You should have seen your face.¡± Her grin softened.


    [Using your trait of using formal names for everyone to increase the effectiveness of the joke, I am impressed.]Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°So you should be. But believe me, you would know if I were your Boss.¡±


    [Oh yeah?]


    ¡°Either you¡¯d be dead already, or locked up in my basement.¡± She brought her water up for a sip.


    [Somehow I doubt that would be for the purpose of torture. Shall we get my magazines loaded?]


    She nodded, and we did just that. Both sat on chairs by the stacks of cases in the dining room, putting cartridges in the ten-mags, and then onto my belt or other holders.


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking of applying to get a bigger drone,¡± Clara said, handing over one of the filled magazines.


    [Is that for speed and efficiency, or perhaps for combat functionality?]


    ¡°One that can carry things. I¡¯m thinking with you in the field, it would be handy to supply you with emergency equipment or medical supplies. Or drop a grenade on you, if you displease me~.¡±


    [I pale at the notion. You do a lot of work for not only me, but for the whole group. I hope you know you¡¯re appreciated, Clara.]


    ¡°Of course.¡± She rolled her eyes, but smiled. ¡°I enjoy this a lot. Not just you, but helping Rockslide by helping you. Although it looks like I just spend my time winding her up, your presence is bringing her and I closer together as well. So, I hope you know you¡¯re appreciated, Gunquake.¡±


    [Pretty much everything has been a wild ride since you both turned up, but I have no complaints.]


    ¡°Oh! Speaking of wild ride¡­¡± She clicked her fingers. ¡°Once you and Rockslide start dating, you¡¯ll have to come with us to meet her family next holidays. Mom would adore you. Pops¡­ not so much.¡±


    [Ah. Horrors beyond what I could possibly conceive. At least it would be a safe space from you constantly trying to woo me.]


    She raised an eyebrow before pulling a shell from the next case. ¡°I¡¯ll tone it down once you two are official. We jest, Gunquake, but I would never do anything to jeopardize her happiness.¡±


    [What about your happiness?]


    ¡°I have several cases of things that make me happy right here.¡± She glanced around the room. ¡°Plus, I believe my sugar daddy has gotten me a little gift, if I may be so bold.¡±


    I checked the time. The late afternoon with the techie had flown by, and I hadn¡¯t even noticed that it was starting to get dark out.


    [Perhaps we should nix that nickname too? Shall we go get the van ready, side-ho?]


    ¡°Hah!¡± She wrinkled up her face and closed her eyes. ¡°Oh, save that for saying in front of Rockslide. She is bound to mortally wound one of us in retaliation.¡±


    [Not it.]


    She maintained the smile as we tidied up the cases and made sure I was fully loaded. Left the house and I helped put the trailer on the back of her van. I slid into the passenger side as the headlamps switched on, illuminating the wasteland ahead of us.


    Almost expected something to be out there waiting for us. I was too tired and dehydrated to speculate more on what was going on outside in the proverbial darkness, let alone the literal background of my existence. Although I had half-convinced myself Boss was secretly just pushing me away to further his own agenda from the back seat, it didn¡¯t explain the assumed Agent that had turned up.


    Time to play things by ear and not give myself a headache. Tonight¡¯s activities would be fun enough, without considering I was going to stroll into the League of Heroes tomorrow and interview for a job.


    Which¡­ the absolute absurdity only just hit me. Me, an experienced hitman and otherwise grungy wasteland misfit. Trying to convince some recruitment officer that I wanted to be¡ªand was worthy of being¡ªa superhero, of all things. I had clearly gone mad at some juncture.


    [Clara, if I was dead or in a coma and this was some weird fever dream, would you tell me?]


    ¡°Hmm.¡± She wrinkled up her nose as she focused on driving through the rocky plains. ¡°It is unlikely I would tell you, even if capable.¡±


    I figured as much. Maybe this was just my brain without the nutrition juice and stims whirling through it. Too soon to judge them as being suspicious, but I made a note to check my wounds later and see how they had healed since throwing my toys from the pram.


    [Do you know much about what I should expect tomorrow?]


    At first she shook her head, before she gave me a glance. ¡°They¡¯ll do a test to see if you have superpowers, most likely.¡±


    [Invasive?]


    ¡°Not particularly. Blood test that takes ten minutes or so to settle. Will tell you if you¡¯re a super, normal, or in the middle.¡±


    Sounded like where I would land. I was pretty sure that I had no superpowers, but I was clearly a few steps ahead of any random person you could pull off the street.


    [How does the middle work?]


    ¡°From what I remember¡­¡± Clara slowed the van to a stop as we reached the outcropping of rocks. ¡°There¡¯s like a scale. Certain attributes that they test for are rated from zero to ten. Zero being expected for a humanoid, ten being as close to a superpower without actually having one.¡±


    [I see.]


    ¡°You didn¡¯t hear this from me, Gunquake, but for example - Wren falls into the middle.¡± She switched the engine off but kept the lights on. ¡°Her elven lineage traces way back to some of the oldest families, and there¡¯s latent power that increases her agility and perception. Her bow is an artefact, and the two things together are good enough to be a hero, even if she didn¡¯t also have the financial backing that she does.¡±


    [I appreciate the information, Clara. Now I am more curious to find out how I will score.]


    The techie nodded and relaxed in her seat. ¡°Valid, but don¡¯t forget what is more important than the number, Gunquake.¡±


    [Making Roxy happy?]


    ¡°Good answer.¡± She tilted her head at me and smiled. ¡°But I meant how you approach combat and antagonizing forces means more than whatever score the League assigns you. You¡¯re a lot more competent than some supers, because in a way, you have to be.¡±


    Or had to be.


    Some training retained despite my memory loss, and then further compounded by my work as a hitman over the years. Most of the former against supers, and most of the latter against normal criminals.


    Despite my life being on an upward trend¡­ part of me missed the simplicity of my contract work. It was lonely, disgusting, and macabre - but I had known where everything sat. Knew my role and what was expected of me. Now I had scampered away from the shadows and across the brightly lit desert for what? Could I find some paradise or safe haven, or just end up dehydrated and worn down in the endless rocky plains of my hubris?


    Damn, I was thirsty.


    My boots tapped up and down gently with impatience as Clara pulled out a magazine to read. Looked like the super one the League put out. We were a little early, and I was only slightly on edge being sat out here in the wastes. The techie didn¡¯t seem too nervous, but she had drank a glass of water recently.


    [You know much about the S-Ranks?]


    ¡°Hmm? Oh, no. I have no interest in the gossip or ¡®shows¡¯ the League puts on, Gunquake.¡± She turned a page.


    [Not even Bucket?]


    Clara pulled a face. ¡°I¡¯ve met him one time, and he was a douche. Not only that, but a lot of his purported cybernetics are just armor. A double dose of the ick for me.¡±


    I nodded and looked out into the darkness. Seemed cliche at this point, but I expected the supers at the highest Ranks to also have the biggest personality flaws. The most marketable, powerful, and willing to do what the League wanted. I already disliked them.


    ¡°Hey, Gunquake. Let¡¯s play a game to pass the time?¡± She closed the magazine and put it on her lap. ¡°How about Rockslide¡¯s favorite - Three Questions?¡±


    [Hmm, sure. You ask first, though.]


    She nodded and turned in her chair to give me her full attention. ¡°I¡¯ll start with an easy one, then. What do you like most about Rockslide?¡±


    [Probably how clumsy and earnest her manner of showing affection is. In some ways I miss the awkward phase when she was trying to be a good neighbor.]


    ¡°She is still plenty awkward, but a sweet answer, Gunquake. What¡¯s your first question for me?¡±


    [What is it you desire most in life?]


    ¡°Oh.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°Going straight in deep for the philosophical stuff, huh? I think... overall, my craft is what means the most to me in life. Being able to improve in that field as best as I can, and hopefully help people like I was helped when I needed new eyes.¡±


    I nodded. She had always come across that way, and was part of why I was supporting her and giving myself up as a pet project for her development. She could help others without the need of pomp and pageantry¡­ or violence.


    [Work is important.]


    ¡°It¡¯s not all I want in life, Gunquake, but it makes me happy. I realize I am an odd duck, and perhaps a little eccentric. I don¡¯t care for romance, but that doesn¡¯t mean I am incapable of love or don¡¯t seek joy in companionship.¡± She sighed and looked out of the window.


    [I understand. Sometimes I wonder why I am entertaining starting a relationship with Roxy. It does not seem possible for me, yet it is something I am unable to control.]


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen the way you look at her, Gunquake.¡± The techie gave me a sly grin. ¡°It may not be a straightforward or traditional relationship, but if you are earnest and truthful with Rockslide, you will make it work.¡± She adjusted her seating position. ¡°Anyway, enough mush or you¡¯ll ruin the vibe. Second question. What is the worst way you have killed someone?¡±


    [Ah. Seriously?]


    She nodded politely, and I took a long breath.


    [Twins. Human traffickers. I essentially waterboarded one with the slashed throat of the other.]


    ¡°Really?¡± Clara wrinkled up her face. ¡°Can you even do that with blood? Doesn¡¯t seem like it would be very effective.¡±


    [They were unable to provide me with much feedback on the experience. Second question for you. Do you know more about me than you¡¯ve let on?]


    Her mouth opened and closed, her tongue not providing her with anything to say at first. She nodded her head. ¡°No.¡±


    Interesting. The nod was the truth, but she couldn¡¯t it say out loud. In some ways, I was impressed that she didn¡¯t break the rules and lie to me, as it would have been easy. Sounded like we had a new conversation to have back in the dining room.


    [Shame. I¡¯m still a barrel full of unknowns.]


    She continued to nod, some apprehension in her face even if her eyes still had the same neutral glow to them.


    [Your question. Last one, so make it good.]


    ¡°Do you ever¡­ wish you could live a normal life? Get a hand prosthetic and jaw, just have a boring job or retire from all this?¡±


    There was enough money in the bank that I could do that. If she didn¡¯t get into the course or went for a League appointed tutor, I¡¯d be able to afford some basic replacements where I could have a reasonably normal life. No killing or fighting. Secretive agencies no longer trying to use me as a pawn. Could even play househusband for Roxy.


    [No. While there are certainly more facets of life I wish to cling to and nurture, I cannot change who I am at my core. That said, I am still finding out who I really am, but am pretty sure that solely being a househusband is unlikely.]


    ¡°Not sure I mentioned that, Gunquake, although the thought of you in an apron with a feather duster attachment to your gun-arm is amusing.¡± Her eyes wandered off in thought. ¡°Remind me next month, it would make a great gift for Rockslide¡¯s birthday.¡±


    [Perhaps she was right, you do need marrying off.]


    ¡°No.¡± The techie smiled and leaned back in her chair. ¡°I¡¯m going to be an old hag with an army of robotic servants and will live vicariously through you and Rockslide like an overly inappropriate aunt.¡±


    [That is¡­ rather specific. You might still find someone that you can get along with, you shouldn¡¯t count your chickens just yet. You gel well with me, after all.]


    She turned her head to me and opened her eyes. ¡°I do, don¡¯t I? You¡¯re respectful and understanding. Promised to fund my dream. Trusting and dependable. Some of you is even machined parts. Even now we are sitting here alone waiting for a gift that you have bought me¡­¡±


    We maintained eye contact for a couple of seconds.


    [Clara?]


    ¡°Yes, Gunquake?¡±


    [I still have one question left.]


    She raised an eyebrow. ¡°What is it you would like to ask me?¡±


    [Clara¡­ why is it your diet seems to be solely plain bread and water?]


    Her expression remained blank for a few moments before she smiled. ¡°Very good. Few know this about me, so you now have even more reason to feel special, Gunquake. I actually do not have the ability to taste. Never have. Bread is like my comfort food - a texture that I can accept.¡±


    [Part of me felt as though I was missing out not being able to eat. I suppose I¡¯m not so eager now, knowing that we have something else in common.]


    ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re the best of friends, Gunquake.¡± She gave me a pat on the gun-arm. ¡°And look - conveniently, our courier friend is arriving so that we don¡¯t have to walk back any of this awkward mush.¡±


    Dots of the van''s lights in the distance. I rolled my eyes and popped the door open, turning to her before I stepped out.


    [If Roxy doesn¡¯t twist my head off over this, you think she¡¯d be up for another movie night? The three of us?]


    ¡°I¡¯m sure I can persuade her that it would be a good opportunity to feel you up in the dark.¡±


    [Oh. Is that how you see it?]


    Clara rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll let you decide, Gunquake. If you are more interested in the actual movie, you¡¯ll swap which sides of you we sit. Now go deal with the odd van person.¡±


    I waved her off and shut the door. Took a few steps through the cool air of the open wastes over to the rocks that were the landmark for our deliveries.


    The techie was an odd one, and I had to admit I cared a lot about her. Not in the same way as I did the super, but there were elements to it. I wanted her to be safe and happy. As my personal cybernetics gal, she¡¯d naturally be close to me.


    I held up my gloved hand and flexed my fingers. The movie night was an idea to ground us. A little bit of comfort and closeness before things switched gears tomorrow. Whatever happened at the League, I was pulling myself fully out of the shadows and away from Boss in even meeting with the organization. If they accepted me or put me on the trials or whatever¡­ my life wouldn¡¯t be the same. Certain things couldn''t be put back in the box.


    Now I mostly wondered what Clara knew about me that she hadn¡¯t been outspoken about. My past? Something actually innocent that sounded suspicious at the time? Was she privy to something behind the curtains of my many benefactors?


    Difficult, but I tried not to let conspiracy and speculation cloud my thoughts. Brain was already mush from lack of hydration and too much innuendo.


    I winced as the headlights of Van Michael¡¯s van washed over me, and his vehicle pulled up over to the side.


    As much as Clara was excited about the large purchase, I almost felt like running over to tear the back of the van open to find the last-minute nutrition canisters purchased.


    My eyes fell to this near endless darkness surrounding this little rendezvous, the lights of the city the only beacon against the void.


    One last dance in the shadows before I was plunged into the cold light of reality tomorrow.

 54 - Safety Off

    I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my arm, still struggling to regain my breath. With our jackets now discarded across one of the kitchen stools, Clara stood opposite me near the sink. Equally as sweaty and out of sorts, she raised a glass of water up to her mouth with shaking hands.


    ¡°Perhaps that was a little too much, Gunquake.¡±


    [I shouldn¡¯t have let you¡­]


    She took a sip and then placed it back down on the counter clumsily. ¡°Look at me, completely physically exhausted. I clearly have to start working out if rolling around in the darkness with you is such an ordeal.¡±


    [Well, we know a little better now. It is unlikely to happen again.]


    ¡°I¡¯m almost relieved.¡± The techie shook her head and sighed to try to cool down. ¡°Although I did enjoy myself, despite the current regrets.¡±


    [I¡¯m sure those will double once-]


    A thud from outside cut off the rest of my sentence.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡±


    Panic flared up in Clara¡¯s eyes and she grabbed at my gun-arm, angling it up towards her face. ¡°Quick, you can end this now and save us from what¡¯s to come.¡±


    [I¡¯m not going to¡­ Let go of my arm.]


    Despite being much stronger than the petite and exhausted woman, I didn¡¯t want to be too rough in case I accidentally hurt her with the end of the barrel as she manhandled me. Left hand came out, and I grabbed her by the shoulder to try to pry her away gently.


    Front door swung open and Roxy stepped in, immediately turning to the open kitchen doorway.


    We froze. My weapon up against Clara¡¯s neck, the techie trying to remove my hand that was grabbing her as she leaned back against the counter.


    The super blinked twice before her hand came up to rub at the bridge of her nose. She groaned.


    [It¡¯s not what it looks like.]


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know what it looks like, Dubs.¡± Her hand fell away, and she gave an exasperated shrug.


    ¡°We were arguing over which movie to watch, if you¡¯re up for it?¡±


    Roxy narrowed her eyes. ¡°You can¡¯t bullshit me, you witch. I don¡¯t care what you two weirdos were really up to. Why are there flatpack prefab buildings just outside my front yard?¡±


    Clara and I released the grip on each other and we stood up straight.


    [As you didn¡¯t want a workshop inside the house, I wanted to build one for Clara outside for our future projects.]


    The super rolled her tongue around in her mouth, perhaps trying to decide how much of the kitchen she wanted to redecorate with my insides. After a few tense moments of potential pre-violence, she put her hands on her hips.


    ¡°Gremlin, go pick out the movie. I need a minute with this walking disaster.¡±


    Clara nodded and practically scurried past, only briefly shooting me an apologetic glance before vanishing into the living room. Roxy stepped toward me slowly, stopping barely a foot away. Her amber eyes stared into mine.


    ¡°Had another shitty shift today, Dubs.¡±


    Unsure of most social conventions that didn¡¯t revolve around violence, I took a risk and opened my arms up for a hug. Either I was lucky, or the super was soft enough to humor me, as she immediately came in and put her arms around me too.


    ¡°Ah. I prefer this to us fighting,¡± she said, her tone remarkably gentle considering I was half sure she was about to squeeze me like a tube of toothpaste.


    [Clara and I were just exhausted from trying to move the prefab walls off of the trailer. When you arrived, she seemed to think me shooting her would be preferable to having you mad at us.]


    Roxy sighed and rubbed her face into my collarbone area before looking up at me again. ¡°You both seem to get into some suspicious situations together.¡±


    [After what you said earlier, I apologize.]


    ¡°Clara is both your nurse and mechanic. There¡¯s bound to be a more intimate bond than just friendship.¡± The super tilted her head. ¡°I trust you both, but to maintain that, you have to be honest with me. So you should have told me about the workshop. I would have come around to it.¡±


    [Last time we argued was partly due to my incessant ambition driving discomfort between us. I¡­ realize that hiding things from you won¡¯t take any disagreements away, but instead drive a wedge between what we hope to become.]


    She pouted. ¡°You soft sack of shit. Can I be honest about something with you, too?¡±


    [Of course.]


    Her hands moved from my back and up so that she held my face gently. ¡°I¡¯ve been putting some credits aside so that we can buy you a mouth.¡±


    [Oh?]


    ¡°I know it¡¯s a little selfish, Dubs.¡± She moved her face up closer to my re-breather. ¡°But after I beat the ever-loving shit out of you in our duel, I want to have a face hole I can stick my tongue down.¡±


    She pressed into me and I leaned back slightly.


    ¡°Gunquake? Monitor is showing your heart-rate increasing by a lot.¡±


    [Well, we can certainly see what is possible.]


    ¡°Glad we are on the same page, then.¡± She gave me a confident smile, but her face was practically radiating heat from how much she was blushing. As she stepped away, her eyes caught the side of my neck. ¡°Oh - new canisters? Any good?¡±


    [Reasonable. When they are cooled they are very refreshing, but we¡¯ll have to see long-term. Oh, that reminds me.]


    I stepped away from her and turned to the freezer containing the group of new canisters. Just beside them, I pulled out a tub and held it out to her.


    ¡°More mint choc-chip?¡± She bit her lip. ¡°You do me a disservice, but I think with this and the movie, any work stress should just wither away. Looks like you saved the day, hero-to-be.¡±


    We turned and stepped out of the kitchen to find Clara waiting in the lobby already.


    ¡°If it¡¯s not too forward, Gunquake, I would like to clean your gun while we pretend to watch the movie?¡±


    I raised an eyebrow at Roxy.


    She shrugged and rolled her eyes. ¡°Go for it. If either of you are able to get off from that, then you¡¯re welcome to it. I¡¯m going to get into something comfortable.¡±


    [It has been a while since I gave it a good servicing.]


    Clara watched the super walk up the stairs before gesturing toward the dining room. ¡°There¡¯s a reason I said ¡®clean¡¯ and not ¡®service¡¯, Gunquake. I¡¯ve already come close to death enough for one day.¡±


    We stepped into the room and the Dead Zone lit up green after the techie hit some buttons on the already-on laptop. She then avoided the inevitable by not meeting my gaze as she rifled through the cases for the gun maintenance stuff.


    [I have two questions for you.]


    She winced and turned to me as I crossed my arms. ¡°Fair, Gunquake. What is your first?¡±


    [You¡¯ve been coaching Roxy on things to say to me.]


    A wry grin peeked from the edge of her apprehension. ¡°That¡¯s the sort of thing I would take to my grave, even if true. Not really a question, either, Gunquake.¡±


    [I suppose then I would like to know what you meant in the van. You know something about me you haven¡¯t mentioned before?]


    Her eyes went up to the green Dead Zone devices, before back to me. ¡°I¡¯ve been wanting to tell you, so please don¡¯t think I¡¯ve been deceitful, Gunquake.¡± Her fingers drummed on the held case and her brow furrowed. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure if after your meeting was best, but¡­ the League knows what group you used to be a part of.¡±


    [Oh, I see.]


    A clear answer lay out there in the void. Something nearby, in some ways, but still unattainable. It made sense that she didn¡¯t want to clue me in just yet, with my meeting with the organization tomorrow. It wouldn¡¯t be a good look if I tried to forcefully dig the truth out of them. Too late in the day for me to get wound about it, so eventually I just gave her a slow nod.


    [And you''re certain?]


    ¡°Adversity breeds excellence.¡± She held the case up to her chest. ¡°But that¡¯s all that I¡¯ve been able to get from them. I hope this doesn¡¯t sour our rapport, Gunquake?¡±


    [Depends on how good a job you do cleaning my shotgun.]


    She smiled, and we went into the living room to do just that. Roxy came down not too long after, now in shorts and a t-shirt. Television illuminated the three of us in the darkness. Some movie about a demonic gunslinger. Near the start, the super ate her ice-cream while the techie maintained my weapon. By the time the credits started to roll, Roxy was holding my hand, her head rested against my shoulder, while Clara was asleep against my gun-arm.


    And me? I wasn¡¯t focused on the film. My eyes looked past the TV to the window behind it. A slight reflection of the three of us obscuring some of the pitch black of the night.


    I was a killer¡­ but look at me now.


    Even in my previous life, or at least what I could draw from it, I never had what could be called a family. Other people in my squad, sure. But that was a working comradeship. Different from what I had at present.


    Whether I had been drawn to this through my own actions, or led along the path by the entities with a stake in my continued existence, it didn¡¯t matter. This was what I wanted.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    And I would do anything to protect it.


    We roused from this quiet slice of contentedness and each went our separate ways to bed. Although I was definitely tired, the thought of what tomorrow might bring kept the plates spinning. I paused at the doorway of the spare room and glanced back to see the super go into her room. Another spinning plate was the duel the day after.


    Seemed more performative at this point, more than anything. A knock on her door right now and I could be squeezed between those muscled arms. Melting away quicker than her favorite ice-cream. Still, I need to see what she was made of, when she really needed to fight for something she believed in.


    I closed the door and looked over at the empty bed, amused for a moment at feeling¡­ alone?


    Shook my head and stripped down to my lower layers. Obviously lighting up the faux-government agent hadn¡¯t been enough violence for the day, and I¡¯d been losing my edge.


    Settled into bed, with no messages awaiting me, nor any other thoughts to prevent me from drifting off.


    <hr>


    ¡°Get your ass in the van, Dubs!¡±


    I stepped down the stairs, trying to get my plate carrier to settle properly, while the super stood at the open front door with her arms crossed. Perhaps I had one of my straps crossed?


    [We have plenty of time to make the drive, dear.]


    ¡°Do not start.¡± She leveled an exceptionally aggressive finger toward me. ¡°This is a huge day and my over-stressing is valid. I¡¯m staking some of my career and reputation on you being well-behaved.¡±


    [I will be nothing but calm and affable, I promise.]


    ¡°You¡¯ll do as you''re told and hurry up and so that I don¡¯t turn into a volcano.¡± Her outstretched hand went out as I approached, snaking behind my vest to draw out an errant strap that had gotten tangled.


    [Thank you, I-]


    Roxy leaned forward to give me a peck on the side of the face. ¡°Shutthefuckup and mooove.¡± Her hand went behind me to push me out - rather gently considering her strength.


    Clara was already sitting in the driver¡¯s side of the van - our transport since the super couldn¡¯t tuck me under her arm and leap us there. I probably shouldn¡¯t even put that thought out into the world. The techie looked like she had also been woken up against her will, but knew how to ride out the wave of Roxy¡¯s panic.


    On the plus side, being rushed about had prevented me from thinking too much and worrying about my meeting myself. Not that I would ever admit to being worried - I had an image to uphold¡­ but this was a significant step in¡­ something bigger. Becoming a superhero? To some degree, but that wasn¡¯t my end goal¡­ just a step.


    Brow furrowed at my own thoughts as I stepped into the back of the vehicle, casting a quick glance at the stacks of off-white units waiting patiently to be set up sitting outside near her lawn. Doors closed, Roxy was in, and then we were off down the toward the city. Just as simple as that.


    [If we survive today, can you help us assemble the workshop, Roxy?]


    She turned her head, about to bite back with something - before her expression cooled off. ¡°Sure, Dubs. You have a lethal weapon for a hand and Clara is a bag of wet noodles. I can¡¯t imagine you¡¯d get far left alone.¡±


    ¡°I almost died three times from being crushed just getting them off the trailer.¡±


    Roxy exhaled and turned back. ¡°I keep telling you that you need more protein in your diet.¡±


    The techie was silent for a handful of seconds, maybe just focusing on her driving, before she eventually shrugged. ¡°Will you help me with that? Sometimes I just focus on my work too much.¡±


    ¡°Of course, hun. Dubs is going to start training soon. We can do it as a group?¡±


    [I assume the League will have certain fitness requirements?]


    ¡°They do.¡± Roxy looked back at me again. ¡°As a guy, you have it a little easier. Doubly so being a tech super. Triply so because your proposed outfit covers most of your attractive lumps, anyway.¡± She pulled a face. ¡°Objectively speaking.¡±


    [My outfit is only ¡®proposed¡¯?]


    ¡°Oh sweet Dubs, welcome to the circus.¡± She sighed once more and turned to look out the front.


    I was pretty dead set on how I looked. No doubt it¡¯d be subject to approval, just like my superhero name was. Putting the cyber-horse before the cart at this stage, as they might not accept me. The actual process what somewhat opaque, and I had been led along to just go with it whatever happened.


    We settled into an apprehensive silence for the rest of the way. My thoughts mostly ran through worse-case scenarios, imagining how I could fight my way out of the League building, depending on what heroes they thought could stop me. For the most part, I imagined Roxy - as that was happening tomorrow.


    Even with my order of extra tools and gadgets later, I didn¡¯t know how high my chances of winning were. Unless she went soft on me again, in which case she would regret it. And then I would no doubt regret it, setting our budding relationship back even further. That was the whole point, however. She wouldn¡¯t give the League her all because she didn¡¯t believe in their rules - so how far would she go for me?


    Van pulled up to the side of the street and Roxy gave the longest sigh I¡¯d ever heard.


    ¡°I¡¯m at peace with whatever happens. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Still had plenty of time, but I wasn¡¯t about to argue. Out of the back of the van on onto the sidewalk I went.


    ¡°It¡¯s Rockslide!¡± someone off to the side announced, far too much youth and excitement in their voice for me to want to engage.


    I watched the super walk past me over to the nearby fans, a wide grin on her face that almost fooled me. Rather than get drawn into that mess, I stepped over to the open driver¡¯s window, where the techie had her head leaning out to watch.


    [Up to much today?]


    ¡°I need to find a stim replacement for you, set up the new home defense protocol, and then do some last-minute things for tomorrow.¡± She looked away from the super and up to me. ¡°Make sure you don¡¯t let them bully you about, Gunquake. You have the advantage of already knowing your worth.¡±


    [Wise words, Clara. Thank you.]


    She smiled and sunk back into her seat. ¡°Of course. Good luck and drop me a message when you¡¯re done.¡±


    I nodded as she started the van back up and pulled away. Turned my gaze to the skyscraper beside me. League of Heroes etched across the front in large letters, imprinted atop a lightning bolt. Front section was glass windows but tinted a deep blue that hid the interior. Wide revolving door in the center, but it didn¡¯t seem to be getting much traffic at all.


    Roxy stepped over, the smile still on her face. ¡°Autographs. Bet you can¡¯t wait?¡±


    With a wince, I looked behind her at the two people walking off, looking like¡­ well, like they¡¯d just met their hero. Could I do that? A mass murderer who didn¡¯t know how to interact with normal people under the cold light of day.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, Dubs.¡± She nudged me. ¡°I can see you breaking out in a cold sweat already.¡±


    At her behest, I followed toward the building, and my boots entered the revolving doors. I emerged from the other side into a large room. Empty space of speckled blue marble flooring and eggshell walls. At the other end of this large space was a small desk. In the back corners were elevators. Polished metal offering ascension to the floors above. I followed the super over to the desk.


    A head leaned to the side of a monitor - a mess of gray hair on a wiry and aged face. Bright eyes despite his apparent seniority, the pale green cardigan and light gray slacks making the man look more at home somewhere much more casual than the reception of the League of Heroes headquarters.


    ¡°Ah, Lady Rockslide and guest. What a pleasure to see you as always. Floor ten, room C today.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Miguel. This is Gunquake.¡± She gave him a brief curtsey before showing me off like a prized ham.


    [It is nice to make your acquaintance.]


    He smiled wider, and his eyes practically sparkled. ¡°And yours! What a powerful voice you have. I do hope your visit to the League is a pleasant one.¡±


    Roxy herself had a much more genuine smile on her face now. ¡°You¡¯ll have to tell me how your garden is doing after my meeting.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait.¡± He nodded his head toward the elevator on our left. ¡°You take care, Lady Rockslide. Master Gunquake.¡±


    As the super went off, I paused briefly to give him a short bow - which he seemed to appreciate. I wasn¡¯t sure of the conventions here¡­ or really most social conventions in general. Elevator opened up, and we stepped into the small metal box - floor the same tiles as the main lobby, but walls were a rich wood. I noted there were no button panels.


    ¡°Miguel sends us up,¡± Roxy explained, catching where my eyes were searching. ¡°He is a super, although I am sure you didn¡¯t clock that?¡± Her wry grin was enough to signal that I was entirely in her domain now.


    [He controls some of the building functions?]


    She nodded as the vertigo of the elevator moving up caused us to wobble slightly. ¡°Has impeccable memory, as well. Remembers all appointments, who comes and goes.¡±


    [I assume there are still digital records, cameras and such, everywhere?]


    ¡°Everywhere,¡± she confirmed. ¡°Probably the most monitored place in the city. Visual, audio, heat signature, smells¡­ probably other things as well.¡±


    [Imagine that I made a whistling noise with how impressed I am.]


    I didn¡¯t need telling twice that we would be under watch ever since we stepped through the door. A non-zero possibility that I was walking into a trap¡­ but I¡¯d like to think that Roxy wouldn¡¯t be able to hide something like that from me. If she even knew.


    I¡¯d just keep things calm and business-like. Polite and¡­ secretive. Even if they knew me better than I knew myself, I wasn¡¯t about to confirm anything or give anything I didn¡¯t want to.


    The small deathtrap slowed to a stop, and with a sharp ding, the doors opened up. Polished wooden wall straight across from us had a white placard with the number ten on it. At least we had made it to the right floor.


    I was counting every small win today.


    Roxy gave me a reassuring smile, the nerves back around her eyes, as she led me out and to the right. Apparently, according to a smaller sign, meeting rooms C to E were in this direction.


    Soft carpet. The hum of computers and other technology in smaller offices. Daylight and luminescent bulbs intertwined. Brief glances from suited individuals. It was a little overwhelming without having an explosive escape or permission to put holes in everything giving me the ick.


    That said, it was interesting that I had been allowed entrance being fully armed - at least to my current level of equipment.


    Meeting Room C appeared as a double set of wooden doors, no other features. Roxy gestured to two mildly comfortable seats beside the room, so we sat and waited.


    ¡°Miguel will let us know when they are ready for us.¡±


    I nodded and idly thought about how I would fight my way out of here. Windows must be Vibrex at the least, probably even stronger. I wouldn¡¯t have the intended access to the elevators if I were deemed a bad guy, but there must be a staircase somewhere for safety reasons. No doubt there were a host of other supers within the building. Some visiting, and some specifically for the defense and running of the headquarters.


    In any other circumstance, this was not a place I¡¯d want to be.


    Actually, I wasn¡¯t even sure this circumstance really warranted my desire to be here. Other than the dour existence my new outfit alluded to, I was barely the same man as I used to be. I could talk. There was no Boss. Two new friends - one of which was next to me and doing her best to not put her hand on me for reassurance. And¡­ a lot less murder.


    I also hadn¡¯t been half-dead for¡­ a good two days? Wasn¡¯t that impressive now that I thought about it.


    The door ahead clunked as it became unlocked, the sudden sound causing me to tense up.


    ¡°That¡¯s our cue.¡± Roxy stood and straightened out her suit. Stood a little taller.


    I tried mimicking her, but my heart wasn¡¯t in it. I¡¯d clearly need some time to be beaten into shape by whatever rules I¡¯d be put under. Assuming that they¡¯d even consider me joining.


    Stepped through the doorway behind the super into a medium-sized room. Plush carpet that was remarkably soft beneath my boots. Light gray. Walls were an off-white once again, with rich wood trimming. An oval table in polished obsidian sat in the center of the room, three figures already sitting on the opposite side. Our side just had the two seats.


    ¡°Rockslide. Gunquake,¡± the central man beckoned. ¡°Please sit.¡±


    The door clicked shut and locked behind us - something rather ominous. Given Miguel¡¯s ability, he could probably monitor and open or close any door when needed, so it was only a slight concern at present. We stepped across the floor in near silence and sat at the two chairs, the creak of my trench-coat the loudest thing in the room - aside from my pounding heartbeat.


    Of the three seated opposite us, it was fair to assume the one in the middle was the one in charge. His very existence screamed executive suit. Slicked back hair as dark as his eyes behind rounded glasses, a clean shave that barely hinted that he could even grow facial hair. Dark gray three-piece with flawlessly white pressed shirt beneath. Picture perfect - almost the complete opposite of me.


    To my right was an androgenous woman in a dress that seemed to be patched together from whatever odds and ends a fabric store threw out. Bright and gaudy, but enticing in an odd way like a peacock - something further dyed-in by her sharp features and the two large feathers protruding from the right side of her hat. While the first man had seemed indifferent to my arrival, she had been ogling me with intensity, as if I were a handful of fresh seed.


    On the left side of the table, a second man was slouched back in his chair. Tank top and cut-off combats showing the impressive musculature he worked for, damped slightly by the portly stomach on him. Short beard of red-brown hair that was possibly hiding a second chin, and eyes that spent too long looking at Roxy for my liking. Whistle around his neck, as if the three of them could only exist by becoming as cliche as reality allowed them.


    The suit tidied up some of his papers, stacking them straight on the table before laying them down flat. His hands came together atop the pile, and his eyes looked between the two of us.


    ¡°Thank you for both coming in.¡± He didn¡¯t smile, but that seemed more like a lack of ability than desire. ¡°Obviously Rockslide knows who I am, but for your sake, Gunquake, I would like to introduce our interview panel.¡±


    He unclasped his hands and sat up straight and gestured to his right. ¡°This is Mr Crawford. He is in charge of Hero training and combat performance.¡± Man gave me a nod and grunt, but didn''t seem too enthused. Hand returned and his left went out. ¡°And this is Madame Gray. Her department deals with suit design and Hero marketing.¡± Her eyes bulged a little wider as she gave me a polite smile.


    The hands of the suited gentleman now rose, and he placed them together. ¡°I am Director Kingston, head of recruitment and¡­ other things that aren¡¯t quite important at present.¡±


    [Pleasure to meet you all.]


    I gave them a slight bow, which was awkward to do while seated.


    ¡°I¡¯m certain of it.¡± The Director returned a nod, before looking down at his pages.


    Silence filled the room as he read down some text I couldn¡¯t see from this angle. Once content enough that some attempted power-play at making me wait had ended, he turned the page over, the crisp sound making me wince.


    ¡°Okay." He steepled his hands together as his eyes narrowed. "For starters, Gunquake, please tell me why we shouldn¡¯t kill you where you sit?¡±

 55 - Career Focused

    I took a deep breath and made sure I had heard the question correctly. It was the first one of the interview, and I didn¡¯t want to make a fool of myself by misunderstanding from the outset. No¡­ I was certain he asked why they shouldn¡¯t kill me right now.


    [If you have a moral or just reason to kill me, then that is your prerogative. I would say the question is rather¡­ could you kill me?]


    ¡°Oh?¡± The Director brought his steepled fingers up to his mouth. ¡°Do you have an escape plan already?¡±


    [Something to that effect.]


    ¡°Please, Gunquake. Humor me.¡±


    I could almost feel Roxy¡¯s eyes cutting into my skull to extract the part of me keen to shovel dirt atop my interview chances. Took a lot more to bury me, however. And they knew that.


    [Unless any of you have the ability to act within a split second, I would strike under the table with a loaded concussive shot. I would then fire a foam encasement shot over your hands, Director, followed by a Smoke shot. While your vision is obscured, I would either attempt to break open the door with a High Explosive round, as I am sure Miguel would not let me escape - or perhaps try to set a fire alarm off with an Incendiary shot.]


    He nodded slowly, his face otherwise impassive. ¡°You would not take one of us hostage to bribe your way out?¡±


    [No. I would not bring an innocent into harm¡¯s way.]


    ¡°How about Rockslide? Would you rely on her or coerce her to assist your escape? I¡¯m sure she could open up the door or walls with her strength.¡±


    [No. This would be my issue and I wouldn¡¯t jeopardize her career.]


    The Director lowered his hands to place them flat on the desk, and his eyes went over to the super. ¡°Rockslide. If I asked you to kill Gunquake right now, would you?¡±


    She shuffled awkwardly for a second before shaking her head. ¡°No, Sir.¡±


    ¡°And why is that?¡±


    ¡°Superheroes don¡¯t kill, Sir.¡±


    ¡°So, would you subdue and arrest him instead?¡±


    She winced and shook her head. ¡°Not without good reason.¡±


    The Director palmed at a piece of paper. ¡°Are you aware our applicant has committed numerous crimes? Under what guise did you think bringing him here for an interview was a good idea?¡±


    ¡°Korc¡¯s Gambit, Sir. The law that decrees that a vigilante¡¯s crimes may be forgiven if they can be rehabilitated and ushered into a more legal occupation, if the city determines the individual to be of high worth to society.¡±


    ¡°''May'' is the operative word there, Rockslide.¡± His eyes turned to the papers in front of him, and the room became silent once more as he slowly flipped through a couple of pages. Needed time to process that, maybe.


    Now I was only slightly concerned I might have to fight my way out of here¡­ although I was both impressed and curious that Roxy had brought up the law. Maybe something she had kept in her back pocket - a hope held out for me and a reason why she had accepted me pushing for this.


    ¡°Just out of curiosity, Gunquake.¡± The Director¡¯s eyes looked over his glasses at me. ¡°What made you believe it necessary to disable my hands in your proposed escape?¡±


    [If I may, Director. You seem to be very conscientious about your appearance. The amount of movements you make with your hands could just be your way of communicating, or subconscious practiced movements your abilities use. I was at first confused, as your nails seemed to be imperfect. I now believe that there are either runic symbols or discreet writing just at the tips of your nails, which is something tied to your power.]


    Director Kingston raised an eyebrow and flexed his fingers, holding them out so he could look at them himself. ¡°And of the other two here?¡±


    [My assumptions were that Madame Gray¡¯s powers were reliant on her sight, hence the Smoke. Mr Crawford I was uncertain, but took a guess at him being absorption or defense focused. I planned to just outrun him.]


    ¡°Bastard,¡± the muscled man grumbled, rolling his eyes.


    The Director smiled, an odd look for him and something that faded away almost as soon as it graced his face. ¡°Impressive. Rockslide wasn¡¯t exaggerating when she said you were resourceful and perceptive.¡±


    [How likely was I to succeed?]


    He tilted his head to the side. ¡°I¡¯ll humor you, as you at least deserve that. Were this any normal tower block, you may have at least managed to escape this room unharmed and unaccosted. However, we have several superheros whose sole job is to protect this building. You would have been subdued and placed in a holding cell even before your first shot hit the floor.¡±


    I nodded slowly. Although I didn¡¯t believe him fully, I also wasn¡¯t about to call his bluff. There was a chance that I was slightly ahead in their books, so I didn¡¯t want to spill any ink in my eagerness to impress. Or escape.


    ¡°You were previously on the provisional sidekick track. While not uncommon, why is it that you have decided to apply to be a fully fledged superhero?¡±


    [There¡¯s an inherent drive for me to be the best possible version of myself. I believe I have the skills and initiative to really make a change in the city¡­ and market a role that is sorely lacking for the League at present.]


    Now it was Roxy¡¯s turn to give me a side-eye in slight confusion. The Director, however, glanced over at the woman beside him.


    ¡°Very true,¡± she said, her voice aptly trill and almost melodic. ¡°I daresay we haven¡¯t had a good vigilante hero since Hard Edge retired three years ago.¡±


    The Director nodded and gestured a hand out to me. ¡°Most heroes under our employ fall under the expected law-abiding and virtuous image. At least in their public-facing capacity. A true anti-hero such a troubled vigilante is hard to cultivate, as few can walk the line of being as close to the dark side as palatable, while remaining genuine.¡±


    ¡°Spent three months trainin¡¯ up Jacknife,¡± Crawford grumbled. ¡°First thing the bleeder did was break his knuckles punchin¡¯ up some villain¡¯s golems.¡±


    ¡°And the second¡ªand final¡ªthing he did,¡± the Director added, ¡°was allow the golems to break the rest of him. Vigilantes are often tech based supers, either financially backed or with some minor element of what we call ¡®advanced powers¡¯.¡±


    That would be the middle that Clara had described. While it hadn¡¯t been long since they had given me the option of potential death, they had now switched to dangling a solidified position in front of me. Perhaps this was a tactic to keep me off-kilter. Wasn¡¯t really working.


    ¡°Are you aware that we require a blood test for us to consider you any further, Gunquake?¡± He moved his hands back to the paperwork, as if threatening to shuffle it away if I didn¡¯t consent.


    [I am, yes.]


    ¡°I will send for the nurse, then.¡± The Director glanced at Gray once more. ¡°If you could please stand, Gunquake, so that Madame can have a better look at you.¡±


    [As you wish.]


    Shuffling the chair back across the carpet, I rose from the table and moved a few steps to the side so there was plenty of room around me. The woman stood and swirled around the oval table over to have a closer inspection.


    ¡°Arms up, please.¡±


    I did so, as she walked around me slowly, soaking everything in. Once she returned to my front, she gave me a nod.


    ¡°You may lower them. Did you arrange this outfit yourself, Gunquake?¡±


    [That is correct.]


    With a nod, she took a step back and put her hand up to her chin in thought. Eyes went between wide and narrowed, as I imagined she was trying to picture me in different lighting conditions or scenery. ¡°Not to humiliate you, darling, but could you give me a pose? Say, you¡¯re trying to fire on me but you¡¯re also in mid magazine change?¡±


    My right eye twitched, but I pulled it off flawlessly. Gun-arm aimed just away from her over her shoulder, as I didn¡¯t trust fate. Right foot slightly forward while left was at an angle, my left hand pushing back my coat to grab at one of my ten-mags.


    She smacked her lips before turning to the Director with a smile. ¡°I was unsure about the green at first, but if we are aiming for the brooding anti-hero look, there¡¯s the right amount of sinister industrial vibe, yet you could imagine that he does fight for the side of good. A necessary evil. Like a¡­¡± she waved her hand, ¡°specialized ex-military solider, with a dark past. Now doing the dirty jobs the other supers can¡¯t, to get revenge for¡­ murdered comrades in arms? No... family? Something to workshop.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite the pitch.¡± The Director gave her a polite smile that I read far too much into.


    Didn¡¯t sound much like anyone other than the Director knew who I was or about my actual past. Otherwise Madame Gray¡¯s ideas were more than just cliche, as they hit the nail on the¡­ oh, was I just a cliche?


    ¡°You may sit, Gunquake.¡± Hands gestured for me to do just that - and I did, just the same as the brightly dressed woman returned to her place.


    Good news is that it sounded like she was reasonably pleased with my outfit choice, which would save a lot of arguments for later. Roxy looked to be on edge, not half because of the eyes that Crawford had on her. Wasn¡¯t worth my blowing the interview by blowing the pesky orbs from his skull. Not just yet.


    ¡°So, to circle back then,¡± he continued once more, turning a page. ¡°You feel you have the necessary marketability to pass as a superhero, and the strength to assist enforcing the law around the city. What is your past experience, say¡­ in the last five years?¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    I maintained eye contact with him. Perhaps the best poker face I¡¯d ever come across, and I knew Clara. I wasn¡¯t keen on being tested like this, not when they held information I wanted. Still, I would play their games, if only for the fact that the end prize was worth the effort.


    [I am under a Non-Disclosure Agreement for that period of time.]


    ¡°Understandable.¡± He nodded slowly. ¡°Here at the League of Heroes, we always ensure that our potential recruits have no lingering debts or ways in which outside forces could manipulate them.¡±


    [All I am able to say is that I have completely cut contact with my previous employer, hence one of the reasons I seek a new role that can make use of my skills.]


    ¡°Skills.¡± The Director turned over another page, and a finger ran down the blocks of printed text. ¡°Your reported achievements to date include a single sidekick mission, which you completed adequately, and you also assisted Captain Snaps in taking down part of the Striped Leopard crime syndicate. Not a terrible start, but you¡¯ll need to prove to us you can be an asset and not a liability.¡±


    [Of course.]


    The lock clacked on the door and I looked back as a woman entered the room with a small wheeled table. White medical outfit, blonde hair tied up in a bun, and an awkward look to her that signaled she was a junior here. Door closing behind her, she gave the trio opposite me a brief curtsey to announce her arrival.


    ¡°Hannah, please take blood from Gunquake and run the usual tests, please.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡±


    She wheeled the little cart up to my right side, before realizing that I only had a gun-arm there.


    [I can turn around if that¡¯s easier?]


    ¡°No, no.¡± She shook her head, a little flustered at having all eyes in the room on her. As she wheeled back around between myself and Roxy, I noticed that there was one particular pair of eyes extra focused on the nervous woman.


    I turned my gaze down to the reflective tray to keep my mood cool. Seemed like a simple needle to draw blood, and then a little case to contain the sample so it could be tested. As she gestured for me to present my arm, I held it out for Roxy to help with the sleeve.


    Only slightly more awkward because my attention was on the needle. Mostly checking to make sure it didn¡¯t already have something small in it that they¡¯d try to inject me with, rather than just take my blood. As far as I could tell, it was fine.


    Sleeve off and shirt pulled up, Hannah did what she needed. Placed the syringe in the case and gave the Director a nod. ¡°I will return with the results once complete.¡±


    [Thanks, Hannah.]


    I saw her pause and give me an awkward nod in my peripheral, but my eyes were firmly planted on Crawford. Perhaps the Director noticed, as he drummed his fingers on the desk as the young woman left the room.


    ¡°In all honesty, Gunquake, if you came to us as a more normal tech hero, we probably would have turned you away. Unique talent doesn¡¯t come along that often, and the people of Goldarch are starting to get itchy about the increase in criminal and villain violence - especially in your sector.¡± He held his hands together. ¡°Why, it wasn¡¯t that long ago a group of five villains were wiped out in gang violence.¡±


    [I suppose that makes your job a little easier.]


    He raised an eyebrow slightly. ¡°We much prefer arrest to murder, I¡¯m afraid. We can¡¯t abide by lawlessness.¡±


    [So as a vigilante hero, it would mostly be an aesthetic choice?]


    ¡°If we wanted an assassin, we certainly wouldn¡¯t choose someone with your¡­ skill-set. A hero upholds the law, whether they shine in the daylight, or slither through the shadows at night.¡±


    I was reasonably sure he knew I killed the Five Eyes. So he would know that part of my skill-set did actually include the assassination of supers¡­ especially with my past.


    But this was a clean break.


    After five years, I wouldn¡¯t have to be a killer anymore. Hitman life behind me. Sure, there would still be some violence, but there would also be autographs, talk show appearances, actions figures¡­ and¡­ oh, fuck.


    [I assume there will be a practical part to my application?]


    ¡°In time, yes. We are waiting for the results of your test first, but once you pass this preliminary interview, you will then go through a fast-tracked induction process to see if you can handle what is required.¡± His hands unclasped and gestured toward me. ¡°Assuming you do, you will graduate and become an official superhero. I¡¯m under the impression that you would like to join Rockslide¡¯s super group?¡±


    [As I have met the group before, I have been looking to increase my rapport with them in preparation.]


    ¡°Certainly.¡± He nodded toward the super beside me. ¡°Both Rockslide and Captain Snaps have glowing praise for you. Once you have passed the requirements and have satisfied your assigned manager, we will sit down once more to make that official.¡±


    Lots of processes to these things. I felt my mind tiring already - I had brought another canister, but left it in Clara¡¯s van. Still, it was starting to look like I might get out of here alive.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be in charge of half of your induction,¡± Crawford grunted out. ¡°Make sure you¡¯re not just a thug with a gun. Seein¡¯ as you didn¡¯t eat dirt against the monster, I have some hope you¡¯ll not be worm food.¡±


    [I look forward to shattering any expectations you have for me.]


    Hopefully his eye-sockets, as well.


    Madame Gray leaned back in her chair and tilted her head. ¡°I will not make any alterations to your outfit until Mr Crawford has seen how battle effective it is. I may be able to improve certain facets in terms of fabric strength and durability, but your unique look is like a fresh glass of water.¡±


    ¡°Rockslide,¡± the Director said sharply, causing the super to twitch. ¡°You¡¯ve been quiet throughout this meeting, but I¡¯m keen to hear your thoughts on Gunquake as you have firsthand experience with his aptitude.¡±


    Her tongue briefly caught on some silence, before a nod shook it away. ¡°Throughout our provisional sidekick mission, Gunquake showed competent tactical knowledge, and his ability to diversify the engaged threats was a benefit to the successful completion. I have only known him a brief time, but his ambition is only beaten by the pace at which he is growing into the role of a superhero.¡±


    ¡°So you would have no issue fighting alongside him, or delivering a joint speech to a group of disadvantaged youths?¡±


    She wasn¡¯t able to stop her nose from wrinkling up in reflex. ¡°Gunquake is well spoken, but is often blunt due to his nature. That said, he is an improvement over what I¡¯m capable of, so to answer your question - one-hundred percent.¡±


    A wry smile briefly lit the edge of the Director¡¯s mouth. ¡°As good a commendation as any. If we accept you as a vigilante hero, Gunquake, it is unlikely you¡¯d have many speaking arrangements that didn¡¯t suit your aesthetic. We will utilize your strengths, rather than push you into a generic box of unfair expectations.¡±


    My strengths seemed to mostly revolve around killing supers and almost dying in the process. The lack of recent violence had been a welcome change, but part of me wanted to get my hand dirty again. Being a superhero would never truly erase that desire, no matter how much they tried to tone me down.


    ¡°For the sake of the argument, I would assign you the same manager as Rockslide. While we do not usually pair up recruits with experienced supers, it can be helpful for tech heroes to have someone with a power to have their back. Given that you work well together and live in close proximity, I feel that it could be beneficial for both your careers.¡±


    [Am I correct in saying that the League can provide certain finances towards my equipment?]


    ¡°Yes.¡± The Director steepled his fingers again. ¡°The amount depends on many factors, not least your Ranking which is determined once we have completed your induction.¡±


    [Are we still talking hypothetically here, or is there an offer on the table?]


    He smiled as the door clicked open behind me. ¡°Well, we¡¯re about to find out just that, Gunquake.¡±


    Silence aside from the soft footsteps of Hannah as she walked across the room, at first about to go around the left of the table, but changing her mind and going past me and Madame Gray. In her hand, a folder that had my test results.


    ¡°Here you go, Director.¡± She gave him a brief curtsey as she handed it over. After he returned a nod of thanks, she turned and left back the way she came, avoiding eye contact with the rest of us.


    The man opened up the folder and ran his eyes down the page. Again, an expert poker face. Completely neutral as his eyes returned to the top and ran down whatever was inside once more.


    Just before intrusive thoughts had me leaping across the table to grab at it, he closed the folder and placed it flat on the table. Hands clasped together atop it.


    ¡°Gunquake, I would hereby like to offer you a provisional role as a vigilante tech hero, subject to the terms outlined in the contract which Miguel will provide you once you exit.¡±


    [Do I not get to see the scores from the test?]


    He shook his head. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t do well to have our heroes comparing scores like some manner of trading card game. Unless they are playing our actual licensed trading card game, of course. I can tell you that you do not have a superpower, but you are advanced. Just so you know which field you''re playing in.¡±


    I nodded slowly. Not really new information, but we were dancing around the fact that we each pretended to not know things about what was really going on here. Still too early to turn screws and find out just how deep the rabbit hole went. Would have been nice to know what parts of me were allegedly advanced, but I supposed knowing didn¡¯t really change anything.


    However, the mental note was made to steal that information as soon as possible.


    ¡°Do either of you have any questions about anything? While the administrative and induction work goes on, you can also contact Rockslide¡¯s manager for any queries or issues.¡±


    I exchanged a glance with the super, who looked like she was really struggling to hold it together. Not sure exactly what emotions had filled her, but she looked ready to leave.


    [Hmm. Nothing comes to mind at present. Perhaps after the paperwork and next steps are more concrete, I will have a thing or two to ask.]


    ¡°Naturally.¡± The Director stood up from the desk. ¡°It has been a pleasure to finally meet you, Gunquake. You are quite the interesting individual. I¡¯m sure in time our partnership will be a great boon to Goldarch and those who live within her.¡±


    [I have no doubt in my mind everything will go just as we hope it will.]


    Nope, fumbled that. I had gone a pretty decent amount of time without vaguely threatening the group - if you ignore the whole start of the conversation when I had told them about my escape plans. Thankfully, it was a vague enough statement to sound genuine enough, even if a little odd.


    Roxy and I stood from our chairs, as did the other two. We performed a variety of bows and curtseys as the table was too wide to shake hands and they didn¡¯t seem keen to walk around to us.


    And thus, we had vaguely survived the interview.


    Door clunked open as we approached it. Out and into the hallway, making a beeline for the elevator. Opened as we approached. Silence between us as it took us down. I sent a message to Clara to pick us up.


    To avoid the elephant in the room, Roxy stood and had a conversation with Miguel about his tomatoes. I busied myself by looking around the etched design of the large empty room - not noticing it before because it was so subtle. It was like a skyline of the rest of the city, as if taken from this exact position.


    The interview had felt¡­ chaotic to some degree. Although, my knowledge of such things was slim at best. Structured in a way that I couldn¡¯t sit nice and settled. Hopping about, switching between threatening me with death or arrest¡­ or an actual change in career. Part of me thought they had an answer before I had already shown up.


    After all, they knew some part of who or what I was.


    They had been getting updates on me through Roxy, so perhaps this was what they had been leading up to from the start. Knowing I could handle myself through the sidekick trials paved the way for what their true goal may be.


    But was that truly what was at stake? Even despite being way out of my comfort zone here, I still felt that there was something just out of my mind¡¯s grasp that I wasn¡¯t getting yet.


    Devoid of the pleasures of food, I had become numb to what a dangling carrot even looked like. The trail of breadcrumbs just looked like dust to a person too caught up in the vibrancy of new relationships and actual living. I needed to sit down and turn out my pockets to see what interesting and useful information I¡¯d picked up as of late, perhaps when I wasn¡¯t so mentally exhausted.


    I was getting close to finding out more about myself. I could feel it.


    Eyes went up to my notifications, and I turned the front desk.


    [Clara¡¯s here.]


    I raised my hand to wave at the energetic man as the super finished up her conversation.


    ¡°You kids take care of each other, okay?¡±


    My escape to a world I was more comfortable with now imminent, my mind rushed me to the conclusion, barely picking up any details along the way.


    We smiled and nodded. Dipped out through the revolving doors. Fresh air. Sunlight. A crowd of tourists standing and gawking at the building. Parked up just ahead was the van.


    I stood in front of Roxy and lifted my trench-coat as if I were a cyber-vampire and it was my cape. Smoke shot struck the sidewalk and immediately obscured us.


    Van doors shut, and the techie was away before the breeze had a chance to lift the gray cloud. Might get in trouble for that, but it was preferable to the other options loaded in my weapon.


    Roxy turned to me as the League building sunk out of sight. ¡°Dubs! Dubs. I can¡¯t think of what to say. I¡¯m overloading.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡± Clara asked, shaking her head in exasperation at the lack of information.


    ¡°Dubs threatened to shoot the Director! And then they kissed his ass - then I did too!¡±


    The techie pulled a face that I could see in the rear-view mirror. ¡°Clearly I missed out on something fun, Gunquake.¡±


    ¡°You should have seen him! Did you coach him on things to say?¡±


    Clara shook her head. ¡°No, why? Was he flirting with them?¡±


    ¡°No! Well, in like a corporate way, maybe?¡± Roxy turned her head back to me. ¡°Are you okay, Dubs? What did you think?¡±


    A thousand thoughts going a mile-a-minute sunk away as I looked up at her, my left hand balled up as fresh destiny swirled around me.


    [I think I am going to become a superhero.]

 56 - Post Haste

    Clara sat at the edge of the emptied trailer, kicking her legs back and forth alternatively as she ate through a toast sandwich with a content smile on her face. The outer pieces were a fortified loaf that had vitamins and minerals to make it more of a well-rounded snack. The toasted middle layer was the techie¡¯s favorite type of bread - a darker loaf that had sunflower seeds baked in.


    The only break from the waterfall of words Roxy spewed forth in updating her on the interview on the way home was a brief stop so Clara could run into a supermarket and pick out the food. Much more interesting to me, however, was the box that sat next to her on the trailer.


    My Public Defender order, that she had picked up while we were in the League. Apparently I wasn¡¯t allowed to open it before the workshop had been set up.


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®there weren¡¯t any instructions?¡¯¡± Roxy stood with hands on her hips and a fresh scowl leveled my way.


    [They are just box shaped. I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d need instructions.]


    Since the super was able to lift the flatpack rooms in their entirety, my role had been sidelined to just unpacking the accessories such as windows and doors. Now surrounded by the discarded mess that I had laid out to put the useful pieces in a handy-to-grab-grid, I felt as though I¡¯d probably not get out of this unharmed if I didn¡¯t find those instructions.


    [I¡¯m sure they are around here somewhere.]


    ¡°I¡¯m not about to half-ass this. What if it ends up collapsing and killing Clara one day, just because you¡¯re too good to read, Dubs?¡±


    ¡°A tomb of my beloved machines. I can think of no better way to go.¡±


    Roxy turned her scowl to the techie. ¡°Shut it, gremlin.¡±


    Kneeling down, I located a little booklet taped to the side of one of the square windows. Tore it off gently and opened it up as I stood.


    The super came and stopped beside me so she could glance at it too. ¡°Barely lunchtime and I¡¯m exhausted already. Stressful morning, huh?¡±


    [Indeed.]


    ¡°But we¡¯ll take it easy for the rest of the day?¡±


    [Certainly. I¡¯d like that.]


    ¡°We¡¯re¡­ going to fight tomorrow, right?¡±


    [Yes.]


    ¡°And you¡¯re ready for that?¡±


    [Yes.]


    ¡°Are you¡­ worried about losing?¡± She grinned.


    I turned my gaze away from the instructions to look at her. Folded them closed briefly so that I could pull my goggles off and onto my forehead.


    [No, Roxy. I am worried about winning.]


    She ran her tongue across her teeth as she maintained eye contact, absorbing in the meaning of what I said. ¡°Asshole,¡± she eventually decided. ¡°I¡¯ll win even if I have to kill you.¡±


    [Less flirting, more workshop assembly.]


    ¡°Hey,¡± Clara interjected, ¡°that¡¯s my line, Gunquake.¡±


    Roxy flipped us both off before snatching the instruction booklet from my hand. Over the course of what was slightly longer than the suggested assembly time, we eventually got everything set up.


    One smaller building that was about the same size as my own shack. I figured the techie could use an office or somewhere separate from the machinery we had yet to purchase. The second building was the size of four of the first. Single door for each and a couple of windows for natural light. Slightly slanted roofs for any rainfall, which wasn¡¯t too common this time of year.


    The super wiped the sweat from her brow and ran her fingers through her short red hair. ¡°Well, there you go then, princess. Your own little castle, right on my doorstep.¡±


    Clara was practically beaming, her green eyes glowing more than usual. ¡°Thank you both so much. This is¡­ it means a lot to me, even if it¡¯s just the beginning.¡±


    Roxy softened. ¡°Just no weird stuff or loud noises at night, alright?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I¡¯m sure you two wouldn¡¯t want competition.¡±


    The super just growled at the techie, managing to restrain herself from throwing the freshly created workshop half a mile into the wastes. I ignored them both and went through, opening the door to the larger side of the workshop. Stepped inside.


    A reasonable size that we could expand if necessary. The clean, slate-gray walls were soon to be dirtied with whatever Clara wanted to get up to, I was sure. But for now, it reflected my internal mood. A clean start. Fresh.


    I hadn¡¯t received a message from Boss since the blow-up. Wasn¡¯t keen to be the one to start up that thread again, so perhaps whether he wanted this or not - I was moving on.


    The techie pushed past me, her hand lingering on my gun-arm for a moment.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing quite like the sight of unrealized potential.¡± She looked around before smiling up at me.


    [Is that a comment on the empty workshop, or me?]


    ¡°Gunquake.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°We¡¯ll set up the smaller room with the bed and some of the equipment cases. The rest can go in here while I decide what machinery we¡¯ll need.¡±


    [Not planning on sleeping in here, I hope?]


    ¡°Of course not.¡± She stepped across the floor, walking slowly to the other end of the workshop to take it all in. ¡°I¡¯m waiting to take back the spare room when you no longer need it.¡±


    ¡°I can still hear you out here, you know?¡±


    Clara crossed her arms. ¡°As the commute is horrible from out here, I¡¯ve actually applied to work remotely more often. Unfortunately, that will mean you¡¯ll be seeing a lot more of me, Gunquake.¡±


    [I¡¯ve suffered worse fates.]


    ¡°You say that now, but I will be a lot more possessive of you going forward. While you had previously offered yourself up as my pet project, Gunquake, I have yet to take fully advantage of that.¡±


    [If it means improvements to my tech, then you can do whatever you want to me.]


    Roxy stuck her head in the door to glare at us both. ¡°Did you find this sack of dead meat some different stims, or am I burying you both tonight?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Clara replied, giving her a brief curtsy.


    ¡°I¡¯m going for a bath.¡± The super continued to grumble something inaudible as she stomped away toward the house.


    I watched her leave for a moment, before turning my attention back to the smiling techie.


    [I¡¯m fifty percent sure my eventual death will be caused by one of you two.]


    ¡°There¡¯s a valid reason I keep annoying her, Gunquake.¡± She tilted her head to the side. ¡°A tale for another day, I¡¯m afraid. You already have enough on your plate.¡±


    [Does it have to be innuendo, though?]


    ¡°Oh, no. It¡¯s just an easy route, since we¡¯re all on the same page with how things stand. Plus, I like to have a little fun, too.¡± She gave me a coy smile before looking out of one of the windows. ¡°And speaking of fun, I managed to get you one stim pack to last you the duel. Adrenaline and regeneration meds. Not as potent as you¡¯re used to, but¡­ I did what I could.¡±


    [I appreciate it, Clara. May I have my order now?]


    ¡°Since you asked so politely, yes.¡± She gestured for me to leave. ¡°What else do you have planned for the day, Gunquake?¡±


    [Planning is not something I¡¯ve often cared for. You were still working on the home defense?]


    ¡°Indeed.¡± The techie put a hand up to her eyes to shade from the sun as we stepped out. ¡°I have the necessary item. It just needs setting up. Will provide us a dome that will catch both speedsters and anything that can fly.¡±


    [That¡¯s somewhat comforting. As much as being out in the wild was nice at first, it does leave us stranded to some degree.]


    She nodded as we continued to the trailer. ¡°Understandable. Short of automated turrets, I believe we are as secure as necessary. Few would try assaulting the home of two supers¡­ and someone as formidable as myself.¡±


    [You have a point.]


    Clara smiled. ¡°After the defense dome, Rockslide has collared me for training. She is going to take me down into the basement and do unspeakable things with me, Gunquake. Not only for my own benefit, but she wants some last-minute training for tomorrow.¡±


    [Ah. I should probably do something similar.]


    She withdrew a knife and cut down the tape sealing the box of goodies. ¡°If only there were two of me, Gunquake. Although, that would be potentially fatal for one of us, no doubt.¡± Knife folded shut, she allowed me to open it up.


    Standard issue pistol. Several grenade types. A tool kit that put my old one to shame. We were trying to prepare me for any occasion - a necessity when I didn¡¯t have a superpower to fall back on against whatever foes the League pitched at me. Clara helped me gear up - the extra bulk and weight of the additional gear actually feeling more comfortable than without.


    As if I were painting a picture into grooves already outlining the finished image.


    Roxy whistled from the porch, and we turned to see her. ¡°Imagine needing all that just to mimic a fraction of my power.¡±


    [I hear you¡¯re training the rest of the day. Not as confident as you sound.]


    She pulled a face and mulled over what to respond with. Eventually, she just scowled at the techie. ¡°Hurry your ass up, Clara.¡±


    ¡°Duty calls, Gunquake. I¡¯ve been through Rockslide¡¯s contract before, so I can help you with yours later?¡±


    [You are a lifesaver, Clara. I would appreciate that.]


    ¡°We can add ¡®secretary¡¯ to the list. Personal assistant, nurse, mechanic, seductress¡­¡±


    ¡°Quit hassling Dubs, or you¡¯ll get it twice as hard! The training exercise, I mean. Fuck.¡± Roxy continued to swear under her breath as Clara gave me a shrug and walked off.


    I wasn¡¯t sure why exactly her flirting with me to annoy the super was a key necessity, but it was amusing enough. At least, until Roxy took that pent up anger out on me tomorrow.


    There was a non-zero chance I would end up with a broken bone or two, and the real test would be if she would stop at that point, as she had the first time. It was as much a test for her to subdue me to the point that I would give up as anything else. She had seen how I turned up after some of my contracts. What lengths I would go to win at my own detriment.


    Short of tearing my head off, I would keep going until I literally couldn¡¯t anymore.


    Once the others were in the house, I looked around the area to see what mischief I could get myself into. Could help out and move some of the cases between the house and workshop - but Clara was rather protective over some of them, and I wouldn¡¯t want to transport the wrong thing or catch a glimpse at some of the unspeakable horrors she had alluded to.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Considered going to see Hal, but I¡¯d had enough of being in the city for one day. Nothing really worth ordering last minute for tomorrow at this point. Still, my eyes went over to my bike¡­ and a little plan was hatched.


    Gunquake: You busy?


    Captain Snaps: Just with my folks.


    Captain Snaps: What¡¯s up?


    Gunquake: Meet at the following coords when you¡¯re free.


    Sent him the information. Switched the bike on and rode out into the wastes. Only a handful of minutes away - but soon enough, I was over by our delivery drop off.


    No sooner had I switched the bike off, Roy slid into the scene, followed by a trail of dust. Gray tank top and black sweatpants - his attire much more casual seeing as he was suspended for two weeks.


    ¡°By the gods, look at you, Dubs.¡± He whistled and put his hands on his hips as I stepped off of the bike. ¡°You¡¯re not only recovered from the other night, but you look ten times as fucking badass.¡±


    [You know what they say. What doesn¡¯t kill you makes you stronger.]


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t usually mean a full tactical outfitting. Was almost willing to believe you asked me out here to execute me.¡±


    [Nothing quite so permanent, I¡¯m afraid. I have some news for you, however. The League has offered me superhero induction.]


    His eyebrows raised, the smirk on his face vanishing away. ¡°No shit? Not just a sidekick, but the full fuckin¡¯ deal?¡±


    [Subject to a complete induction, correct.]


    ¡°Oh, shit.¡± He shook his head in disbelief. ¡°When you asked me to vouch for you, I honestly thought you had no chance. But now¡­ there¡¯s a real chance you¡¯ll be able to join the super group?¡±


    [I¡¯m going to unfuck you assholes until you¡¯re a fully functioning unit.]


    Roy worked out his shoulders. ¡°Literal chills, Dubs. I¡¯m sure you didn¡¯t ask me out here to whisper sweet nothings, though?¡±


    [I need to do some training where I don¡¯t injure myself. I was wondering, since we¡¯ll be teammates soon, if you¡¯d run some antagonistic and cooperative drills with me?]


    ¡°Oh. Sure. I doubt I¡¯d hurt you much anyway - most people don¡¯t realize this, but just because I move fast doesn¡¯t mean I can hit harder. I¡¯m limited by how much my arm can withstand.¡±


    [So you can do a lot more utility-wise?]


    He nodded. ¡°You got a mag in? Hold your arm out.¡±


    I did in fact have a Nerve mag in. As per his request, I held my gun-arm straight, pointed off to the side toward the horizon.


    ¡°Eject the mag.¡±


    Air displaced around me as my synapse connection gave the signal to drop the magazine. A blur of the speedster around my left side, and my trench-coat rustled. Roy stopped off to the side again, a cloud of dry dust raising away from his movements.


    I now had a different magazine loaded.


    ¡°Might not always be a quicker or more comfortable way of doing it, but in the heat of the moment or if your left arm is busy, it might be useful?¡±


    [Are we able to sync my control of that to your STAR system so that you get a notification when I require you to switch for me?]


    He furrowed his brow and scratched at his head. ¡°Ah. Beyond my capabilities, but if you ask that toa- if you ask Clara, I¡¯m sure she would be able to do it.¡±


    I stood for a moment just staring at him until he started to get uncomfortable.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll add her to my apology tour.¡± He sighed and crossed his arms. ¡°You¡¯re a piece of work, Dubs. Reconnected with my folks and feel like a hero again. All it took was double-crossing the assholes I had been cozying up to.¡±


    [Boss contacted you since?]


    Roy shook his head. ¡°Radio silence. Was half convinced I had an assassin on the way.¡±


    Zero word from him made some sense. Whatever game he was playing, keeping at us at arms-length seemed to be Boss¡¯s current plan. I was fine with that. Had my hands full with plenty of other things.


    [I assume you could also grab a thrown grenade from the air and deliver it personally?]


    ¡°You¡¯d assume correct.¡±


    [What kind of weapon do you usually use?]


    ¡°Most of the time, nothing. I usually trip or distract - but sometimes a blunt club or similar is fine - it depends on the target. Definitely nothing sharp, as it¡¯s hard to subdue a target with a stabbing weapon.¡±


    [What about a taser?]


    The speedster¡¯s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head to mull it over. ¡°That could potentially work.¡±


    I shook my head. Not sure whether it was the heroes being lazy, or the League not putting their all into their supers.


    [No, even better than that. We will get you fist weapons that discharge like a taser when you punch someone. They can even make a ¡®snap¡¯ sound, if you like.]


    "Oh. That¡¯s¡­ you can just do that?"


    In truth, I wasn¡¯t sure if that kind of thing needed to go through the red tape of the League. Maybe Roy would just have to apply for the change - I couldn¡¯t see them declining it given that it was both an effective increase in his ability for the group and also matched his theme.


    [No idea. I¡¯ll not have a teammate arbitrarily weakened. Leave it with me. Before we start sparring, what do you think of Belle?]


    He gave a brief shrug before looking out to the wastes. ¡°Diplomatically speaking, I¡¯m not sure why she¡¯s even a hero. I mean - I know she has to be because she has a power, but her focus is never on the job. League just passed her onto us because support supers are few and far between.¡±


    [Why is it she cares about this Church so much?]


    ¡°Beats me. I stay well clear of that shit. Like don¡¯t get me wrong¡­¡± Roy shuffled his feet in the loose gravel. ¡°I like a little depravity as much as the next guy, but her cult gives me creepy energy.¡±


    I nodded slowly. For some reason, that gave me cause for concern. What people did in their own time was their business, assuming they turned up to do their job well. Something about the Church didn¡¯t sit well with me. It was all very vague and sinister, despite the attempt to paint it over with the insinuation that it was just a weird sex thing.


    That investigation was added to my post-duel schedule.


    [Interesting. What about Wren?]


    ¡°For as stuck and grumpy she is, she is probably the most level-headed out of the group.¡± Roy scratched at the side of his beard. ¡°She is at least focused within a mission and performs her role exceptionally well, but it¡¯s like a switch as soon as we¡¯re off the clock. Back to her businesses and babysitting her husband.¡±


    [Do you think she could provide more in a mission?]


    He gave me a wry grin. ¡°That¡¯s a loaded question, Dubs. I wouldn¡¯t want to disparage the elf, but I¡¯ll tell you I could count the number of times I¡¯ve seen her fire that bow on one hand.¡±


    [Noted. Thank you, Roy.]


    Second on the agenda would be Wren. I wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d be more or less difficult to bend into the shape our group needed. Her businesses weren¡¯t any likelier to become a secondary thought just because I wanted her to be a better hero. We¡¯d have to see, in time.


    ¡°You also pulling this leader voodoo on Rox as well?¡± Roy tilted his head. ¡°She fine with you taking over?¡±


    [Roxy will always be the leader, I am just acting in the group''s best interest. And yes, we have an extended session tomorrow.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± His grin widened. ¡°You sly dog.¡±


    I rolled my eyes and moved to get into a defensive position.


    [She has to beat me in a duel.]


    The grin turned more quizzical, but he was no less amused. ¡°Really? No offense, Dubs, but that seems weighted against you a little.¡±


    [She lost the first one, so this is a rematch.]


    ¡°Fair. Would pay to see that, though. I can imagine out of anyone, you¡¯d be a right prickly bastard to get rid of. That explains this training session, then.¡±


    [We¡¯ll start with some light sparring. Just try punching me at a normal speed and then we¡¯ll gradually increase and see how far I can keep up.]


    He didn¡¯t even wait to give me a response before launching forward with his first punch, something I deflected with my left arm - both my coat and the gauntlet underneath absorbing the blow. The speedster was going no faster than a decently trained boxer, and already it was keeping me on my toes.


    Past memories seeped through my thick skull. Things I knew but were hidden on shelves too high to reach. Once again, combat shook them loose to land in my wanting hands. Or hand, as the case may be.


    Supers were said to have three states, and part of the reason the League took them in at a young age was to define these states for stability reasons. The first step was called Latent. In this state, they were like any other person, give or take. Their powers were fully controlled and almost neutered. It was the reason Roxy could live around the house normally, without tearing doors off hinges or crushing me to death every time we hugged.


    Next state was Active. Pretty self explanatory, but it meant the super was using their power. Depending on what their abilities were and how well trained the person in question was, there was a sliding scale of how Active their superpower was. Just like right now - Roy started to speed up, but it wasn¡¯t his full speed. Maybe ten to twenty percent of his maximum.


    Punches became much more difficult to block. Every third would get me in the flank or chest. For some reason, this angered me. Like being needled by an annoying fly. I turned the annoyance into purpose and activated Reflex. Left arm wasn¡¯t any quicker, but now my gun-arm picked up the pace, and I turned to allow it to block the next five strikes in succession.


    Roy slid back away, shaking his fist out. ¡°Ouch, you motherfucker. What was that, though?¡±


    [That? Oh, I just started taking things seriously.]


    A little bluff, as the empowered ability sunk away just as we started talking. Still only useful for five to ten seconds, I¡¯d need to find out if there was a way to extend the duration.


    ¡°Bullshit. You¡¯re a super really, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    I shook my head. Super soldier, but no superpowers. Now... I started to dislike the way everything had the word super in its name.


    [Advanced, the League told me. Based on my life up to this point I would assume durability, but they wouldn¡¯t tell me the scores.]


    ¡°I would be interested to know exactly what you are.¡± He grinned and readied up his fists.


    [You and I both, Roy.]


    The final state for a super was called Burnout. Often achieved through massive stress, emotional turmoil, or true willpower. Going beyond the limits of their normal power, often at great personal cost. It was a coin toss whether the hero would come back weakened or the same¡­ and there was a rare chance that they¡¯d end up stronger after the fact. Too risky to gamble on it.


    In some ways, I had been doing that to myself. Not entirely pushing any power to the limit, but my whole self. To the edge of death on multiple occasions in the hope I could break through some of the clouds hiding away my old life.


    And it had worked.


    In the interview, it hadn¡¯t been anything pre-rehearsed. I had gotten a feel of the abilities of the trio just from some experience long held, and my normally silver tongue had turned gold to melt into their ears. Even if the exact memories of that life were erased or buried too deep, the knowledge of how to act and my strength as a literal anti-hero had washed away the cobwebs in my mind and I was starting to act the part.


    Roy and I sparred for a good hour more, but I would falter between thirty and fifty percent of his comfort speed. Amazing in some regards, but it left a sour taste in my mouth. Or an empty feeling in my lack of mouth. I was never going to match him like that, anyway. That¡¯s why I had all the tools at my disposal.


    ¡°Not half bad, Dubs,¡± the speedster said, rubbing at his knuckles. ¡°I¡¯m sure if that was a real fight, you¡¯d pull some bullshit moves to gain the advantage, though.¡±


    [If that was a real fight, I would hope you¡¯d be sensible enough to run from it.]


    He grinned. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I¡¯m happy being on your side. I¡¯ve gotta run now, but thanks for calling me out.¡±


    [Was good seeing you, Roy. Take care.]


    With a nod and quick salute, the speedster turned and zipped off through the wastes. A cloud of dust billowing in his wake.


    I stretched out. Sweaty now beneath the many layers of my outfit, the protracted training had been some good exercise. Now I hungered for a fresh canister. As I stepped back over to my bike, a notification came through on my goggles.


    //Clara: I have been made to exercise.


    //Clara: My legs no longer function.


    //Clara: I hold you entirely to blame, Gunquake.


    //Gunquake: You¡¯ve seen the basement?


    //Gunquake: What is it like?


    //Clara: A hell of polished chrome and insurmountable weight.


    //Clara: And so much sweat.


    //Clara: I am avoiding the taskmaster by having a bath.


    //Gunquake: Do you have sufficient bubbles?


    //Clara: Normally I would ask if you would like to check, Gunquake.


    //Clara: But I feel this punishment is perhaps earned and I shouldn¡¯t invite further suffering.


    //Gunquake: I¡¯m on my way home. We¡¯ll talk soon.


    I shook my head out. A bubble bath did sound delightful, however - so I¡¯d need to take over the bathroom once she was finished. Needed to check my healing wounds and make sure I was fit enough for tomorrow. Stim pack was still by the house, as I didn¡¯t want to use it up during training when I might need all of it for the duel. My injuries from the other day hadn¡¯t felt any worse despite not having the supply¡­ which was almost concerning.


    Bike revved up and away I went, the journey feeling even shorter with my distracted mind focused on the looming battle. As our little neighborhood came into view, I noticed that the super was laying out on the deckchair. Parked myself up near my kill-room and stepped over.


    She was wearing a black tank top and matching shorts, her pale legs on full display. As I approached, she must have caught my curious look.


    ¡°I realized today that I was giving too many fucks about some things and not enough fucks about others.¡± She shrugged before holding out a cool canister. ¡°Clara said you were on the way.¡±


    [I appreciate it. Sounds like you gave her quite the workout.]


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Roxy gave me a tired smile. ¡°Hopefully that will stop her from acting like a cat in heat for five minutes.¡±


    Empty canister popped from my neck and I placed the new one in with a short hiss. The fresh liquid seeped into my system and I relaxed.


    [If only we were so lucky. You know, she asked to have dibs on me if you died.]


    The super snorted and rolled her eyes. ¡°Before my body was even cold, no doubt.¡± She sighed and leaned back in the deckchair. ¡°Clara doesn¡¯t get close to many people, so I can understand it. If there wasn¡¯t something between us¡­ well, I don¡¯t think she¡¯d want a relationship, but no doubt she¡¯d coerce you into some manner of freaky companionship.¡±


    I took hold of my deckchair and moved it from my side of the property line so that I could place it down directly beside hers. As I lay next to her, she put her hand on my gun-arm.


    ¡°I suppose it¡¯s comforting to know you¡¯d look after her if anything did happen to me.¡±


    [It has been my view for a while that the pair of you are almost a package deal. If anything, it is nice that I have a found family. I am so close to where I was my lowest, yet I have come so far, and I have both of you to thank.]


    ¡°You yap too much sometimes, Dubs.¡± She leaned over so her head rested on my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ve always thought you had great potential, but seeing you in that interview this morning¡­ I was kinda stunned by your ambition and how savvy you were. Was difficult to hide the hearts in my eyes.¡±


    [I seem to be becoming more of my old self subconsciously. As glad as I am for the positive things this brings, I was worried that I¡¯d become something you no longer liked.]


    ¡°No, Dubs. You¡¯ve certainly changed from the smelly introvert that didn¡¯t want anything to do with me, but if you are just becoming more you, then I¡¯m still fully onboard. Today just solidified that you aren¡¯t just one crazy hot hunk of a killer, but you¡¯ve got the smarts and ambition to run a super group.¡±


    [You¡¯ll still be the leader, but I will do my best to be your second in command.]


    ¡°A partnership, instead?¡±


    [Sure.]


    We sat in silence for a while, just looking out at the endless wastes and enjoying a moment of peace. As the evening drew closer, we made the pact to get an early night and leave any further emotional bonding till the next day so as not to taint our fight.


    Soon enough, I was waiting in my bed for darkness to take me. Bathed and in decent shape. Knowing that I didn¡¯t want to win, but would push myself to the limit to at least try to. Different scenarios passed through my head. My hand moved, imagining the placement of certain items so that I could grab them with practiced precision when the time came.


    Tried to think of how she would try to counter me, and how I would react to that.


    I would by lying if I said I didn¡¯t enjoy the process. Some part of me relishing the clash of wits and attempt to beat out the odds in facing a super with such power over me. Yet with this elation came an uncomfortable lump.


    Something still sat just below the surface. An elephant in the room that I had caught a glimpse of, but now vanished anytime I tried to locate it.


    As my brain tried to discover this clue once more, I slowly slipped into the darkness of sleep.


    The long fated day was impatient to arrive.

 57 - Burning Desire

    My back clicked as I stretched it out. Hopefully not a portent of what injury I was bound to sustain today. I don¡¯t think anyone of us would be happy if I broke my back. Unless Clara had more tricks up her sleeve than I had anticipated. Or a new cyborg body she had been building for me.


    I looked up at the intended battleground. Most of the fixtures had been stripped from the building already, leaving a five-story structure full of bare rooms and little else. A decent distance from anything important, so collateral wasn¡¯t a worry.


    Clara stepped out of the van and over to me. ¡°Everything okay, Gunquake? You¡¯ve been quiet this morning.¡±


    With a glance over at the super also doing stretches, I nodded.


    [I¡¯m fine. This is going to be a very rough morning.]


    ¡°Anything I can do to make you feel better? Last-minute gear changes or advice?¡± She raised her hand to her chin. ¡°Maybe I should take masseuse lessons.¡±


    ¡°Heck, I¡¯d pay for that.¡± Roxy smiled, but the apprehension was clear on her face. ¡°Can I get my gear now as well?¡±


    The techie nodded and gestured to the back of the van. There had been a few cases back there with me, but I usually paid them little heed. For today, I expected some emergency medical things to put me back together, but perhaps I was wrong there. Maybe this was my end.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take the course if I don¡¯t have to do exercise anymore.¡± Clara crossed her arms. She had spent a good deal of the morning complaining about aching from yesterday still, which unfortunately fell on deaf ears.


    ¡°No chance.¡± Roxy pulled a long case from the back of the van. ¡°You don¡¯t have to get combat-fit, but being more than a skeleton padded with bread would be good for you.¡±


    She gave the super a scowl. ¡°But what does Gunquake think of my figure?¡±


    [I agree with Roxy. If you¡¯re going to be my sidekick, then being healthy and active is important.]


    ¡°Although I feel somewhat betrayed that you didn¡¯t take my side, I forgive you, Gunquake.¡± She shot me a smile. ¡°Sidekick, though? Perhaps we¡¯ll arrange some more beneficial terms later on?¡±


    The super huffed as she undid the clips on the case. ¡°If you don¡¯t stop buttering up my opponent, I¡¯ll be breaking this in on you instead.¡±


    She flipped the lid back and drew something out of it.


    A large hammer. One side of the head was flat, and the other pointed. It looked heavy enough that it would be unwieldy for an average man to use. But for the super¡­


    [You¡¯re going to feel really guilty if you kill me with that thing.]


    ¡°Eh.¡± She hoisted it over her shoulder with ease. ¡°You¡¯re going to feel real silly if I¡¯m able to kill you with it.¡±


    Clara didn¡¯t seem best pleased, and narrowed her eyes at Roxy. ¡°No killing, please. There¡¯s still so much Gunquake and I are yet to experience together.¡±


    She glared back. ¡°I¡¯m getting sick of your needling, witch. This is not the day for it. I¡¯ll fight you next, if it¡¯ll get you to back off.¡±


    ¡°If you think this is all bluster, sister, then you¡¯re more a fool than you look. Why don¡¯t we up the stakes a little, then?¡±


    ¡°What are you suggesting?¡±


    Clara ran her tongue across her lips and smiled. ¡°If you win, I will no longer flirt with Gunquake.¡±


    ¡°And if he wins?¡±


    ¡°Then I get Gunquake all to myself for the night. All to myself.¡±


    There was almost steam coming out of Roxy¡¯s ears as she bared her teeth at the techie. ¡°You little bitch. Fine, I¡¯ll take that bet because I¡¯m going to fucking win.¡± She then pointed a finger at me. ¡°You¡¯re going to wake up in the morning not knowing the past five years of your life either, asshole.¡±


    ¡°One way or another,¡± Clara murmured.


    With a growl that bordered on bestial, the super leaped away from us - heading to the opposite side of the building as previously agreed.


    [Well. I¡¯m much more likely to die now.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Gunquake. It''s mostly just more bluster, as I know you want to fight her at her peak.¡±


    [Still, neither outcome seems particularly viable.]


    She nodded and walked over to the van. ¡°True. I doubt I could stop flirting fully, even with the best of intentions. And if you won, well, any such liaison between us would sour not only your working relationship with Rockslide, but drive a wedge between our odd family unit.¡±


    [Yet you still said it was mostly bluster.]


    ¡°Let¡¯s not be coy, Gunquake.¡± She kneeled down to clip the case closed. ¡°It is clear I hold some adoration for you. It¡¯s definitely something more shallow and basic than how Rockslide feels for you, and giving into primal desires would just be that. Mindless rutting to satisfy the urges until clarity draws us apart again.¡±


    [I¡¯m not sure I was prepared for this kind of conversation this morning.]


    ¡°What I''m saying, Gunquake, is that I want both of you to go do your best out there, but ultimately, I want my sister to win." She picked the case up and pushed it back into the van. "I don''t often see this kind of emotion in her, and if you two have something special going on, then I''m going to push that with everything I have.¡±


    [She truly is lucky to have a sister like you.]


    ¡°And you''re lucky I have a moral conscience. Now go and get beaten to death by a super hero so I don''t have to be a home-wrecker later.¡±


    [You know you could choose not to follow through?]


    She rolled her eyes. "Then what is the point of stakes if they aren''t real? A level-headed Rockslide would know how unlikely it is my words held weight, but she is stressed and in fight mode."


    [I just feel maybe I should have had a little more say in what was on the line.]


    Clara shrugged and brought out her drone. "Honesty, I prefer it being a mystery as to whether you''d agree the nasty things I''m imagining or not. Makes it seem more of a playful joke if it''s vague, rather than something real and dangerous."


    I sighed and rubbed at my forehead through my balaclava. There was a chance this was equally something she was filling my mind with to sway the potential bout. In fact - I was sure of it. The techie was running her own game behind the scene, and something told me it was more than just playing matchmaker for a change. Still, I couldn¡¯t-


    ¡°Oh, and because I got Rockslide the hammer that you suggested, I also got you a gift, Gunquake.¡± The drone buzzed into life and started to hover in the air as Clara went back into the van. ¡°I would have given it to you sooner, but... I didn¡¯t want to.¡±


    [Is it more Sanguine stakes?]


    ¡°No?¡± She stuck her head back around the door to frown at me. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to murder my sister, Gunquake.¡± The techie stepped back out and brought over a case.


    [And isn¡¯t she waiting for us right now? I can¡¯t imagine that is helping her mood.]


    Clara smiled as she popped open the case. ¡°You have to trust the process, Gunquake. I realize I have given you a whole headful of thoughts that you didn¡¯t expect or need. I promise I only have the best interests of you both in mind, and when you actually understand¡­ well, I just hope that you do.¡±


    I nodded slowly. Now there was a certainty that something was afoot, but she didn¡¯t want to clue me in exactly. Inside the presented case was something like my sideloader, but bulkier and longer.


    [A sideloader with shell select?]


    ¡°Good eye, Gunquake. Six capacity and your synapse control can pick out specific shells within the loader - assuming you memorize what you load where it should allow you to pull an ace from your sleeve more often.¡±


    [Thank you, Clara. That feels like a missing piece of the puzzle.]


    She gave me a brief curtsy and went to work on my arm to affix it. I was glad she had thought of this technology, as otherwise my effectiveness would always be stilted by having to load individual shells or magazines ahead of time to prepare for certain eventualities. With the ability to pluck the needed shell in the middle of combat - assuming it was one of the six in the machine - my work would be a lot more fluid and competent.


    ¡°There you are, Gunquake. Practice with it as you head to the third floor. Message once there and I¡¯ll give the signal to start. I¡¯ll be watching in with my drone¡­ try not to destroy it please - you don¡¯t have the funds to keep buying me stuff.¡±


    [Not when I have a whole workshop to outfit.]


    Clara bit her lip. ¡°Go now, otherwise you¡¯ll ruin the vibe I have put a lot of effort in to maintaining.¡±


    Only half understanding what she was getting at, I gave her a nod and set off. Away from the van as she got the controls and other tech ready to pilot the drone. The abandoned building slated for demolition looked just like the sort of place I¡¯d go to enact violence¡­ only it was too bright, being in the daylight.


    Still, all the better to see who we truly were, I supposed.


    Worked the prongs of the new selectloader as I stepped inside the shade of the building. There was a soft clack as it made the movements of moving a shell from the static storage part up to the loading part. Chamber clacked back and forth in tandem to mimic the full process. I wondered if the tech could hold up to my Reflex speed.


    Found a staircase to the right, nothing but plain concrete in a blocky spiral around a central gray pillar. Thumbed through my magazines on the ascent to choose which lucky shells would be making their debut through my new technology. Allowed me to keep a ten-mag of Nerve in the main shotgun, while having six of the more exotic ones at the ready.


    For all her efforts, Clara had managed to make two of the Foam shots, but no more of the Napalm. Even with Roxy being resistant to fire, I didn¡¯t particularly want to hit her with something like that, anyway. Might have been useful if I¡¯d asked her if she had decent healing capabilities, as I didn¡¯t want to wound her permanently, either. Perhaps letting my ego build this fight up was a mistake.


    Reached the third floor and stepped through what must have been some manner of lobby. Some of the doors remaining, but others were just wide openings. All the paint, wallpaper, carpet, and furnishings had been fully removed, leaving the base construction remaining. Gray concrete, occasionally dotted by parts where pipes or electrical fittings had been cut off or taped over.


    My boots dug into the light amount of dust as I shuffled into place, somewhat grounding myself.


    //Gunquake: In position.


    //Clara: Confirmed. Checking with Rockslide.


    My heart rate had increased. There was a weight to the fight that had more importance to it than the brief scuffle we had before. More at stake, and I didn¡¯t mean Clara¡¯s attempt to shift us both off-balance. I didn¡¯t really mean the potential relationship with the super either.


    This was a test of how serious she could become, and how well I could stand up to a superhero.


    Whirr of the dragonfly drone came up behind me, poking into the window before moving back out. She wouldn¡¯t stay too close, otherwise the sound would give away my position. But she was eager to watch.


    //Clara: Go in five seconds. Best of luck.


    I took one last deep breath and counted to five.


    It began.


    Moved myself up to the edge of the doorway ahead, putting my back against the wall. If she was on the same floor, then it wouldn¡¯t take her long to get to me. Given her strength, we were likely to fall down a couple of times, so maybe going up a floor would give me some advantage.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Decision made, I jogged back over to the stairs and climbed up to the next layer. Just as I reached the lobby up here, a burst of force vibrated from below. A wall collapsed.


    ¡°Where are you, Dubs?¡±


    While normally I wouldn¡¯t advise making yourself known in such an overt manner, it did feel like we were in a predator-prey situation, given the tone in her voice. Aggravated, and serious.


    I withdrew something from my belt and placed it at the top of the stairs. Pulled a Smoke grenade from my chest plate and lobbed it onto the stairwell as I stepped away. The metallic clang as it bounced twice reverberated through the area, right before it burst into a dark green cloud. How fitting.


    All I had to do was wait for-


    Twenty feet behind me, in one of the next rooms, the floor erupted with a plume of gray dust as the super broke through to land up here. Hammer spun in her grip as she locked eyes on me. Not good. I had to keep my distance.


    Turned and fired a Nerve shot, but she dodged to the side, out of view behind the wall. Gun-arm trained on the opening, but that was never her intention. A couple of heavy footsteps and then she burst through the concrete with her fist - straight into a flashbang grenade I had tossed.


    Bright white painted the rooms, and as she recovered, I was already gone.


    Boots took me through several open rooms, but there wasn¡¯t a lot of cover when she could blow through everything like cardboard. Still, I should be thankful we weren¡¯t in an open field. Short of unloading everything I had immediately, there wasn¡¯t much that could stop her from beating me to a pulp¡­ other than her own morals.


    Footsteps behind, so I took a left. Clicked the trigger in my hand to set off the plastic explosives on the doorframe a few rooms back. Might not harm or delay her, but it would mask my movements. I knew I was slightly slower than her in just a foot race, so I had to keep wearing her down.


    Another left, so I¡¯d turned a complete one-eighty. Dried out wooden doors blocked any visuals to the other side where she might be. I slid across the floor as I reached the hole she had made, and dropped down onto the third floor again, rolling over the debris to absorb the shock.


    Only had one plastic explosive left and although the hole would be a good place to trap, she was just as likely to make another instead.


    Pulled a round ball from my belt and threw it off to the right by the staircase, while I ran diagonally to the left. It hit the concrete and emitted a high-pitched beep. I continued moving as it repeated the noise every two seconds. Just as the sound started to dull due to the distance, there was a blast of stone and a thud from back that way.


    ¡°Stop running scared, Dubs. You¡¯re pissing me off.¡±


    I stopped moving, but not because she asked. Pressed myself into a corner and started to slow my breathing. The gears were spinning, but the teeth weren¡¯t connecting in the way Clara wanted them to. I¡¯d stick to the current plan.


    Heartbeat started up as footsteps came toward me. Not quite directly for me, but she had a good read on how I was moving. Time to kill a super.


    Reflex kicked in as I stepped out, Roxy turning toward me a good twenty feet off.


    Unloaded a full mag of Nerve shot in quick succession, my synapses in overdrive and operating my weapon as if it was fully auto. She spun the hammer around to try to block some of the projectiles, but I had aimed all the shrapnel at her left leg. Empty cartridges clattered to the floor. As soon as the mag clicked empty, selectloader stuck in a Smoke shot. Fired at my feet as Reflex wore off.


    The hammer lashed through the smoke, almost catching me as I made my escape. I rolled into the next room as she followed up with a full spin of the weapon, clearing a portion of the obscuring cloud. Maybe my Nerve shot hadn¡¯t landed?


    Roxy stepped through the filtering mist, eyes ablaze with an orange glow. No - she was dragging her left foot, even though there was nothing physically wrong with it.


    Empty mag dropped from the gun-arm. Didn¡¯t have as much time to run as I¡¯d hoped. The fury on her face almost unlike her. My left hand grabbed at the next magazine as she lifted the hammer over her head with both hands.


    ¡°Time to say goodnight, fucker!¡±


    Foam shot came out and struck the head of the hammer, the expanding substance encompassing the end and latching onto the ceiling.


    She paused, briefly confused at the resistance and unable to pull the weapon from the sticky substance. My mag clicked into place.


    With a growl, she strained, her muscles bulging as cracks spread out like vines across the gray ceiling above us. My legs tensed, but I couldn¡¯t move in time. Her hammer tore a chunk of the concrete away with it, the foam just extending the reach of the weapon. Air displaced around me before the impromptu addition to her swing struck the floor just ahead, narrowly missing caving in my skull.


    And then the floor burst from the impact.


    We dropped, and I fired out another Smoke on landing, rolling away from the debris. Thumbed another one into the selectloader as I moved into another room. Heard the super growl and swing out in the wrong direction, caving in another wall.


    Stims rolled through me, but they definitely felt weaker than what I was used to. Knee wasn¡¯t broken, but I¡¯d landed uncomfortably and it was stiff and aching. Was sweating. Despite the open windows, the building was feeling warmer than it should.


    Eyes went over to the side. Looked like there was another staircase over that way. Wouldn¡¯t want to get penned in on the bottom floor, so ascending might be a smart idea. Unclipped a flat circle of wire from my belt as well as the other flash grenade.


    ¡°Is this how you always fight? Chicken shit!¡±


    I had unclipped my vocalizer as soon as I¡¯d stepped into the building. Been a while since choosing to be intentionally mute, but there was nothing to be said here. If she was a villain, then I would be a bit more aggressive, but I didn¡¯t want to risk either of us dying.


    Leg hated me going up the stairs, but we managed.


    ¡°Really?¡± Her voice came from the bottom. ¡°You didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see a damn tripwire?¡±


    I watched her step over it carefully before she looked up the stairs to where I was sitting and waiting.


    Tazer shot struck her, causing her to wince, but not strong enough to fully stun her. It did, however, arc down to the flashbang and tripwire, the thin thread of metal curling up at from the electrical pulse - pulling the pin from the grenade.


    Stairwell was illuminated in bright white as a loud pop rang throughout my ears. Before the super had a chance to shout out further expletives, I leaped from my position and brought down my metal elbow on her. A connection and I fell into her, our bodies colliding with the wall.


    With a short grunt, she pushed me away, and I fell into the prior room, skidding across the dust floor before I could roll up to my feet.


    Roxy blinked away the lighting adjustment in her eyes and turned to me, a gash of crimson along the side of her head. Not nearly enough to knock her out.


    We both moved at the same time, except my knee didn¡¯t cooperate. I stumbled, and she caught up, a kick striking me in the stomach. Air before the hard ground hit me as I landed a good dozen feet away. Rolled into a crouch and fired into the ceiling just above her with a High Explosive shot, bursting a cloud of gray dust to obscure her vision.


    She stepped through, and I was no longer there.


    Analyze kicked in. She was being very deliberate with her strikes, trying to knock me out or hobble me. Slowed slightly from my Nerve shot, but she was powering through it as she knew it was fake. Part of her also knew that most of my ammunition types would do nothing to her. With us playing cat and mouse, it was just frustrating her further, as she couldn¡¯t go for the quick knock-out like she wanted.


    But¡­ maybe annoying her was the point.


    Time clicked back into normal speed as my synapses finished information-dumping the fight roundup so far through my brain.


    A risk, but I was willing to play into what my subconscious mind had decided.


    Stepped out from behind the doorway and fired my last Foam shot. She raised her arms to protect her face, but it struck her in the knee. Just enough for the expanding foam to move and grasp at her other leg, but not stick to the floor.


    Roxy lowered her arms and glared at me. ¡°You think I didn¡¯t come prepared, asshole?¡± Her hand went to her belt and withdrew a small syringe.


    I ran.


    Agony for my disruptive knee, but I had to buy time while I could. After getting stuck against the mutants and knowing what I was capable of, she must have sourced the disabling agent. If it wasn¡¯t such a foil to my plans, I would heartily commend her for it. Always a good idea to cover your weaknesses when-


    Her footsteps stomped toward me already as I hit the original staircase. Hand palmed for my grenades, but I only had one left. Circled up to the third floor again, and continued toward the fourth. She was gaining on me. Her injured leg was less of a detriment than my own.


    Fourth floor. Threw a magazine up to the stairs up to the fifth to see if that could fool her. Trigger out, and I clicked the plastic explosives from below. The blast shifted dust from the ceiling as I ruined the staircase downward. No going back.


    Thumbed my selectloader to full as I shuffled myself round into one of the rooms. A brief moment of silence as I got my breath back. Was slightly cooler up here. Hmm.


    A vibration shook through my boots, a little way off. Left hand tensed up. Then another shake, but this time from the other direction. I pushed myself away from the wall and took a step.


    Third vibration and a wave of heat, right below me. The building groaned out in pain and vertigo took me, as she collapsed a wide section of this floor. I slid down a solid part of concrete briefly before it cracked and split. My rolling body struck a flat part of the opposite wall, right before a hand grabbed me by the back of the coat and lifted me up.


    ¡°Knock-knock!¡±


    A punch sent me across the room to collide with a still-standing wall. Couple of broken ribs. Even now, she was still holding back. Turned to raise my gun-arm up, and she was there already, the shotgun knocked to the side as she pinned it to the wall - my shot off somewhere else and ineffective.


    ¡°I have you, bastard. Give up.¡±


    I shook my head as the selectloader clicked. As her other hand wound back for a punch, I fired my Quake shot.


    It struck the edge of the wall, narrowly avoiding completely missing by going up into the open space she had created. Some of the heat was pulsed away by the first reverberation from my signature skill.


    She winced and clutched at her ears, stepping away from the thrumming V-Force. Walls cracked and debris shifted, creating small clouds of dust around us. Oddly, it didn¡¯t seem to affect me half as bad.


    I stepped forward and head-butted her in the face, drawing my sidearm into my left hand as my gun-arm repositioned. Fired the low caliber ammunition into her as her defenses were shaken by the Quake. Against a normal opponent, that would have been the finishing act, but this did little but scratch her. Tazer shot into her as I emptied the pistol mag.


    Her hand went out and grabbed the gun, twisting it from my grip before she crushed it. Discarded it to the ground as her other arm grabbed and lifted me - an effortless throw sending me back up to an open room in part of floor four that hadn¡¯t collapsed.


    Stims weren¡¯t keeping up very well. My re-breather wheezed as the air sunk from my lungs and I tried to roll back up to my feet. Roxy landed beside me with a short leap and picked me up, an overbearing heat pulsing through even my tactical gear, before she spun me around and launched me off.


    Cooling air, then I burst through a wooden door, bounced on the concrete of a large room. Slid along on back on my boots, hunched over with my gun-arm sparking and creating a shallow groove from the movements.


    I righted myself as Overcharge hummed into life, and the super stepped in through the doorway.


    ¡°Running out of tricks. Call it while you still can.¡±


    My head shook again, and Reflex drove me into action. HE Shot powered by Overcharge, followed by the rest of the mag of Tazer. Roxy stumbled back from the blast, before shaking and covering herself as electricity arced around her. Mag out and new one in.


    She turned back to me, waves of bright energy following her eyes. Shoulder wounded and running with blood where I had struck her.


    Current room was a good forty feet square. A single small exit to my far left, and double doors that the super was standing in. No further points of interest. Terrible positioning for me, so short of going up or down a floor, this might be the end point.


    I¡¯d never seen so much anger and disdain in her face. A rage had overtaken her. The culmination of all the prodding and gentle frustrations we had been building up. Finally, she had found a release and a way to¡­ oh.


    Any delight in having the gears click into the rightful place was erased as she ran toward me. My left hand pulled the last grenade from my vest, but I didn¡¯t have time to arm it.


    Rolled to the side to avoid her first punch and to stop myself being pressed to the wall. Up and blocked her follow-up with my gun-arm. Stumbled back from the force and she leaped into a kick. Deflected, but I caught the elbow that followed after. Spun as my eyes fuzzed over, stims barely keeping me awake.


    Arms crossed just in time for a push to send me across the room and into the wall.


    ¡°If that¡¯s another flash, I¡¯ll rip your fucking eyes out.¡±


    She charged, and I pulled the pin.


    Flash blinded her as I fired off a Rubber shot. Struck her in the knee and she stumbled forward. Both blinded, I stepped toward her and lashed out with my elbow. The resounding thunk told me I had connected.


    While our eyes cleared, I fired off Nerve shots to where I believe she had fallen. Turns out I was a little off.


    Just to my left, her limp arm didn¡¯t stop her foot lashing out, catching me in my own knee and shattering the bone.


    As I dropped, she grabbed me again and tossed me at the wall from before, this time the concrete collapsing from the impact. I had escaped that room, at least. The pain flaring around my body wasn¡¯t too pleased with the outcome.


    She was kind enough to help me to my feet as well- or at least, my foot.


    ¡°Submit already.¡±


    Could feel myself practically melting from being this close to her. Roxy¡¯s eyes were ablaze. So close, I couldn¡¯t give up now and let Clara down.


    She realized my vocalizer was unplugged and shook me roughly before clipping it back herself


    My hand went up to unplug it again, and she stopped me.


    ¡°Fucking give up.¡±


    I stared her down, still trying to grasp at the pesky tech before I blurted out something I¡¯d regret. She was practically boiling over, her expression bubbling past the point of due care as she pulled and twisted my arm away from doing the task I sought to accomplish.


    My shoulder cracked and popped as she dislocated it.


    ¡°Now.¡±


    Overdrive flipped to max, and I blew Quake into the floor.


    Roxy dropped her hold of me and grasped at her face again, pure ferocity burning in her pained expression. I stumbled back across the debris and started firing off more Nerve shots into her.


    Too tired for Reflex again so soon, but I hoped that there would be enough imagined damage to wear her out. Oh, not really wear her out¡­ not for what needed to be done.


    Vibrations were giving me a headache. Looked to be exhausting for the super, too. Blood ran down the side of her face and down her right arm. Some minor cuts around her exposed skin, with her suit charred and sliced in places.


    Mag ran dry, and I dropped it to the floor. Left hand¡­ oh, it was fucked.


    With a growl, Roxy had recovered and launched forward. Fist struck my chest and for a moment I blacked out. Burst through one concrete wall that woke me back up, before another which was just painful, my body sliding limply across the next wide room. She sure knew how to pick them.


    Gun-arm shook as I tried to prop myself up. A thick trail of blood dripped to the floor from my re-breather, clogging up the filter. I growled as I forced my muscles to comply and I made it to a roughly standing position.


    Ignored the dozens of warning notifications running through my lense. The numb sensation in my chest and the constant stream of blood from my gasmask was enough of a clue. Wasn¡¯t in the mood for words.


    Roxy came in through the hole I had made, her fists already balled. A wave of warmth followed in with her, and she bared her teeth at seeing me persist.


    Gun-arm tried to raise and faltered, but I could maybe shoot her in the leg if she got within three-to-five feet of me. That would have to do unless she gave me a handy off-switch.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to die. Why can¡¯t you just lose?¡±


    Ah, there it was.


    I raised myself up straighter, so that I could look her in the face. This was over one way or another now, and I hoped that I had read the situation correctly.


    [You were always too weak to win, Roxy. Accept you¡¯ll never amount to anything, so I can go back to your house and fuck Clara all night.]


    A brief flicker of something ran through her eyes before she growled out in indignation. Her fists shook as she raised them up.


    And then, before she could pulp my head in, they started to glow. Deep red at first, but quickly a bright orange. Thick globs of the bright viscous liquid ran down them and splashed to the floor as the ambient temperature spiked. Her feet now illuminated in the same thick amber, the concrete around her was charring and bubbling from the intense heat.


    Her burning eyes held nothing but contempt for me. An anger that went beyond any rationality or sense of normality. My body ran with sweat and blood as the air wavered around her, blurring her form.


    With one final roar, her head burst into flame and she launched towards me.

 58 - Heartburn

    My last remaining memories were shards of incomplete emotions and pained senses.


    Intense heat and the smell of burning fabric and leather. An impact.


    Vertigo and the immense weight of light gray. A series of numb collisions.


    Flashing lights and the murmur of voices. Familiarity, but discomfort.


    Lastly, the cluttered shambling off into somewhere dark. Some amount of peace as waves of gloom washed in and out. Part of me wondered if this was death, but I knew I wasn¡¯t that lucky just yet. Whatever tether I had to the mortal plane wavered in the strong breeze, but my work wasn¡¯t done. Hadn¡¯t suffered all I needed to. My true purpose unfulfilled.


    My eyes cracked open slowly. Unhindered by my goggles, the white ceiling above me caused a pulse of pain to wash through my delicate orbs and into my skull. Perhaps I preferred the darkness, actually.


    The sound of wheels moving across wooden floorboards was the only thing preventing me from going back to sleep.


    A figure loomed over my left side. Green lights illuminating me, the rather drab expression on the young woman''s face softened at seeing me lucid.


    ¡°Gunquake. I was starting to worry.¡±


    [Did I win?]


    ¡°No. Not exactly.¡±


    My brow furrowed as I tried to piece together my last waking moments. I had¡­ pissed off Roxy to the point that she had started burning up. She leaped at me and then¡­ pain. Sounded like she had beaten me in the duel, if that''s as far as my brain allowed.


    Eyes looked around, aching at the sides. A familiar picture on the right side. Something rustic.


    [I am back home?]


    Clara sighed. ¡°Yes. Forgive me, but I didn¡¯t allow them to take you to the hospital. There were a lot of forms I needed to sign for you to be released under my care. Apparently, I am now legally responsible for your constant well-being, and also your next of kin. We¡¯ll never beat the incest allegations, Gunquake.¡±


    I groaned and closed my eyes.


    ¡°Apologies. Too soon. In fact, I probably owe you a lot of thanks and a more sincere sorry.¡±


    [Am I able to move before we do this?]


    ¡°No. Your arms, you can, but the rest of you needs to stay in place. Heavy sedatives are keeping the important parts of you from moving and falling apart.¡±


    Opened my eyes back up and raised my arms slowly to observe them.


    [Where¡¯s my other hand?]


    Now it was the techie¡¯s turn to furrow her brow as she looked between my normal left hand at the shotgun that had replaced my right.


    ¡°Perhaps the concussion was worse than I had thought. What do you remember about yourself?¡±


    Things were spotty. A mirror dropped and shattered that held all the information that made me who I was¡­ but there were pieces missing. Or maybe there were pieces that belonged to a different mirror? At this point, it was hard to tell either way.


    [I¡¯m getting an odd sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu.]


    ¡°Might be the head injury, Gunquake. Was it a superhero who put you down the first time to require your arm replacement?¡±


    Painful images flashed through my mind, and I winced. Flickering lights and the sound of gunfire. Silhouettes, but no real detail. I took a deep breath, and they simmered away.


    [Whatever happened, I wasn¡¯t a huge fan of proceedings.]


    ¡°And of the last five years?¡±


    [I remember nothing about them.]


    Her eyes narrowed, blocking off some of the green light from her cybernetic orbs.


    [Sorry, just a bit of humor. Where is Roxy? Is she okay?]


    ¡°Hospital.¡± Clara leaned away to look at something by the wall. ¡°She is doing fine. Shock and some minor burns, but they want to keep her in for observation. The League is especially interested, as I¡¯m sure you can imagine. She sent a message when she could, asking how you were, Gunquake.¡±


    [Can you tell her I miss her?]


    The techie tilted her head, but smiled. ¡°Of course. I will.¡±


    [And then fill me in on what the fuck happened.]


    ¡°I suppose this will be my first apology to you, Gunquake. I roped you into a scheme of my own without your consent.¡± She sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve known for a couple of years that Rockslide might have had some unrealized power. Something more than brute strength. There were times in the past where she became heated, but I don¡¯t think she was ever aware. Once I saw she had fallen for you¡­ I figured it would be the best chance to awaken this dormancy.¡±


    [A reason for her to reach the Burnout state and break through her normal power level.]


    Clara smiled. ¡°Somewhat literal in her case, Gunquake. Don¡¯t get me wrong, not everything has been due to my machinations. There was plenty of lucky happenstance and input from yourself, even if unwittingly. Of course, if she didn¡¯t feel so strongly about you, then it wouldn¡¯t have worked either.¡±


    [Gambling it all on me working out what you wanted to happen was a big risk.]


    ¡°I agree. Selfish and reckless, in fact. I understand if neither of you forgives me. I put both your lives at risk, thinking things had to happen the way they did.¡± She shuffled uneasily and looked toward the door, before back to me. ¡°I¡¯ll come clean, Gunquake. I am Advanced as well.¡±


    [You are?]


    ¡°Potentially intelligence based, given my aptitude for technology. One of the reasons the League gives me a longer leash than the other techs. I also have a¡­ well, it would be disingenuous to call it foresight. But my gut feelings are often correct, and you have a certain weight to you. I knew you¡¯d pull this off for Rockslide.¡±


    I sighed and tried to work out how injured I was. Pretty sure my chest took the worst of the damage. Knee and shoulder would have healed up with a few hours and some bone fixing juice. I remember a burning feeling, but couldn¡¯t remember what exactly happened after I¡­


    [Perhaps instead of telling her I miss her, profusely apologize for what I said to her before she rightly almost killed me.]


    ¡°You can tell her yourself when you see her. It will mean more that way.¡± Clara stood and stretched out her back. ¡°I was honestly surprised at what you said, Gunquake. I wouldn¡¯t have been able to come up with something more hurtful if I tried. And I had tried.¡±


    [I never said I was a nice person.]


    ¡°True.¡± She put her hands on her hips. ¡°But to jab at her strength, insecurity at how she wasn¡¯t developing in her career, and to top it off with tugging at her heartstrings and causing her to imagine the man she adored laying with her amazing sister. That¡¯s even worse a crime than the list of all your murders, Gunquake.¡±


    [You think she¡¯ll forgive me?]


    ¡°Either she will and you¡¯ll be stronger than ever, or she won¡¯t and you¡¯ll be dead. Maybe I''ll shortly follow you in that instance.¡± The techie gave me a wry grin. ¡°I¡¯m going to get some bread and a fresh canister for you.¡±


    She vanished from view, but I heard her soft footsteps leave the room in the direction of the kitchen. I wasn¡¯t too sure how I should feel. Was I angry that Clara had been guiding us both to force Roxy¡¯s awakening? Not really. Ever since our lives had collided, we had been pushing each other to be better. I had broken the cage keeping Captain Snaps from reaching his potential and now performed the same miracle for the strength super.


    And¡­ that had always been my goal. The whole point of the duel was preventing us from being together like she wanted. Like I wanted. For her to put her passion to the test to see how she would fight, knowing something she actually cared about was up on the line. No rules and regulations from the League that she could no longer stand to cloud her actions.


    The ideal end for me was always her winning, standing over my broken body. A self-sacrifice I was willing to make to turn her into the proficient super she could be.


    I had never imagined she was something more. At some point in her youth, she would have plateaud at just having higher strength, and part of her control over that kept her from stepping up to what her full superpower was. It had taken some effort for her to break through that, and I wondered what that now meant for her future. For our future.


    Clara stepped back into the room, a slice of bread in her mouth and chilled canister in her hand. Replaced it on the right side, and I couldn¡¯t help but let out a contented groan as it hissed into place. She gave it a gentle tap before walking around my head back to her chair on the left.


    [You look exhausted. How are you doing?]


    She removed from the bread from her mouth and shuffled close to me again. ¡°Well, you almost died three times since I got you back here. There¡¯s irony somewhere in the fact that the last punch before she awakened literally broke your heart, and it was only the emergency rush of the stim pack I had given you that held you together.¡±


    [Itemized damage list, smallest issue to worst?]


    ¡°Dislocated shoulder back in place, but some of the muscle was torn, so you¡¯ll be bruised for a few days. Knee is setting, the break was clean so no complications. Two blows to your head, some swelling and a concussion, but nothing broken. Your chest¡­¡± She paused to sigh and take another bite of bread. ¡°Your rib cage became more of a collection of bone fragments. Took me almost an hour to get all the sharp pieces out of your lungs. Massive internal bleeding, some other split organs-¡±


    [Wait, how did you even manage all that?]


    ¡°Was easy enough to cut you open, Gunquake. Without the bone structure, it was as simple as-¡±


    [You had to perform actual surgery? Not to doubt your ability, but that doesn¡¯t sound like something I could recover from.]


    Clara gave me a glum smile and waved the remnants of her slice at me. ¡°You can¡¯t see it from this angle, but there¡¯s a pile of bloodied aprons and gloves over in the corner. Rockslide will not be pleased with me. If you think back to a few minutes ago where I described that I didn¡¯t have foresight, you¡¯ll be underwhelmed to learn that several of these secretive cases I have stacked up have robotic parts in. Almost enough to replace all of your bones, if necessary.¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    [Reading between the lines¡­ I have a metallic rib cage now?]


    ¡°Glad to see your gray matter is back up to speed, Gunquake. Your organs will heal of their own accord. It seems that your natural durability is a huge boon to your survivability when paired with the right stims.¡±


    [And yet I still died three times.]


    ¡°Oh, just while you were here, yes. Twice at the demolition site, and once in the van ride over.¡±


    [Mostly from the one punch.]


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    [She could have been hitting me that hard throughout the fight.]


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    [And now she can also create magma with her hands. Oh, how much damage did I take from that? I only remember a brief burning and the smell of my gear melting.]


    ¡°About that... Well, let me get a mirror.¡± She turned on the chair before stepping away briefly, returning with the small reflective mirror. Trying to angle it correctly so I could see, the image ran up from my stomach where the dark bruising covering me was split down the middle where Clara had cut and sown me back up. Mirror moved to my chest, right where my heart would be.


    An open handprint remained.


    Burned into my flesh like I had been branded. Her attack had melted through tactical gear and two other layers of clothing before scouring several layers of my skin almost to the muscle.


    ¡°A push,¡± Clara intoned. ¡°Anything more forceful, and she would have punctured straight through you. The resulting shockwave from the barely held-back assault and her feet melting through the terrain caused the building to partially collapse.¡±


    [That would explain why I can still taste concrete dust despite not having a mouth.]


    ¡°Another happy accident as it caused Rockslide to take a second to think about what she had done, and she cooled off - before passing out.¡±


    [She won though.]


    ¡°Oh, Gunquake. No contest. Which means you get to tell her how you really feel, and I will no longer flirt with you.¡± Clara gave me a glum smile and shrugged.


    [I don¡¯t believe you are capable of that.]


    ¡°Have some faith, Gunquake.¡± Her smile turned genuine as she tilted her head. ¡°But after this, you deserve some raw truth. I¡¯m not after your heart, or what resides in your underwear. I want to be the technical mastermind behind the League¡¯s best tech superhero. You mentioned me being your sidekick in jest¡­ but that is what I want.¡±


    [Done. The job is yours.]


    She snorted and shook her head. ¡°Easy to say when I¡¯ve just saved your life a handful of times.¡±


    [Given you were partly the cause of my current condition, let¡¯s call it even.]


    ¡°A fair deal.¡± She yawned and stretched out again. ¡°Promise me we¡¯ll have a serious conversation about it tomorrow, though. I don¡¯t want you to just accept outright.¡±


    [You have my word.]


    ¡°I¡¯m going to go have a quick bath and get clean, Gunquake. Your monitor will alert me if you¡¯re in any danger, but you should be stable enough to sleep now. Although I would prefer you didn¡¯t cause me to run down here in a state of undress, if possible.¡±


    [Understood.]


    I listened to her leave and go upstairs, but it sounded like she left the bathroom door open. Heard the taps run, if only slightly. It gave me a chance to reflect on our relationship, now that she had been open and straightforward with me. In some ways, it was exactly as Roxy had told me before. Clara and I would always have a strange, intimate bond that wasn¡¯t really tied to classic relationships. She had just been inside my torso, rearranging broken parts and affixing a new rib cage.


    If she wanted to be my sidekick as well, that meant we¡¯d be spending a lot of time together. I cared for her and appreciated her candor and wit. Her technical knowhow would be perfect for what we had planned, even if her being my personal mechanic was the plan all along. Sometimes a more official stamp just held the pieces together.


    This was all assuming that Roxy held no grudge over what had happened.


    Given that she could tear me to pieces in her normal strength form, I wasn¡¯t too confident that I could win against her magma form, even going in with the full intention of killing her.


    Which was partly the point. Now I had another pinnacle to climb up and reach. In some ways, I had accepted that I was a force of nature. Like a gas expands to fill its container, I was destined to expand my power and strength. A compulsion to be the best. To not die when¡­


    When I¡¯d outlived my usefulness.


    Brow furrowed as this slimy worm of a thought buried its way out of the mud inside my skull. Was that how I met my previous end, or perhaps just a fear I used to have?


    I closed my eyes to try to bring back those pictures. The flashing images that my dying mind pulled closer to the conscious part of my being.


    Not much luck, as instead my exhausted body sent me off to sleep.


    And I dreamed. Of turmoil. Again, I stood with two normal hands, but now I was amidst a world in complete disarray. As if nature itself was trying to tear it asunder.


    It was. The dream-me clenched his fists together, and the scenery shook, as if I was trying to erase it. Brush it all away. The heat subsided. Wind and rain died down. Storms cleared. All I was left with were the ruins that had barely survived. But I had also survived.


    Took a deep breath of air that woke me, eyes widening and taking in the bloom of bright daylight. Back in the dining room.


    ¡°Relax, Gunquake.¡± Clara put her hand on my forehead. ¡°You¡¯ve had a bit of a fever. Not unsurprising given the trauma your body has been through. You slept the rest of the day away. It is now the following morning.¡±


    [Oh. How am I holding up?]


    Her hand ran across to my temple before withdrawing. ¡°Medical miracle, as always. Leg and arm should be functional, but I advise you don¡¯t risk your torso taking any damage. You¡¯re liable to burst like a very macabre pinata until your organs have fully settled behind the repairing muscles.¡±


    [Ah. Fantastic. I was hoping there would be some bad news, too.]


    She rolled her eyes and moved away from me to the side, out of view. ¡°The bad news, Gunquake, is that you have to reorder most of your Public Defender gear. Not only did Roxy melt through every layer of your outfit, but some of whatever you dropped was lost as the building collapsed.¡±


    I had used all my grenades and plastic explosives. The super had destroyed my sidearm. A couple of spent mags must be lost, but I had some spare.


    [The gauntlet?]


    ¡°Thankfully, you didn¡¯t use it much, and Rockslide only dislocated your shoulder rather than snapping your arm like a twig. It remains undamaged... if not a little sad that you didn¡¯t utilize it.¡±


    Not that punching or trying to cut Roxy would have done much. If anything, I was lucky that I didn¡¯t try to block one of her real punches with it and gotten metal plates lodged through a broken arm.


    [It can join my drum mag at the pity party then. The selectloader was incredible, you really outdid yourself there.]


    Her footsteps circled around me before the sound of plastic bags being shuffled came from the right. ¡°Keep buttering me up and I¡¯ll see what I can do about getting the upgrade to that, Gunquake.¡±


    [It gets better?]


    She loomed over my right, her eyes narrowed. ¡°Oh, so much better.¡±


    [See, I knew it wouldn¡¯t last.]


    The techie gave me a wide smile before vanishing again. Context clues had me assume she was bagging up all the bloodied clothing and gloves she had gone through while putting me back together. Probably wouldn¡¯t want the super to come back to that, which prompted the unspoken question.


    [How is Roxy today? Any news?]


    ¡°She is fine. Sounds like she is in a rotten mood at being kept there overnight, but might be released today if she behaves.¡± Clara sighed. ¡°We know how likely that is, Gunquake.¡±


    If the League were there and prodding and questioning her, it wouldn¡¯t surprise me if she burst into annoyed fire once again. Part of me still hadn¡¯t accepted that was what had happened. That was a lot more than a normal superpower to have. It would be a lot for her to take in and absorb, so perhaps it would be better if I gave her some space for when she returned.


    [Any chance I can get up and moving?]


    ¡°Only on two conditions.¡±


    [Go ahead.]


    ¡°Firstly. No running away. I need you here to keep you healthy and monitor you. If Rockslide comes here to mash either of us into the ground, then so be it. Secondly, no clothes until your wound is healed.¡±


    [Am¡­ I wearing clothes now?]


    ¡°Shorts. That¡¯s all you are allowed, so you can retain what dignity you have left.¡± She stepped back into my vision with a mask over her mouth and hand holding a large sack. ¡°I¡¯ve been elbow deep in your guts, Gunquake. Your fleshy bits no longer interest me and I can only see them in a clinical light. That said, I respect your privacy and desire to remain clothed in my presence.¡±


    [Thank you.]


    ¡°Hmm. I was expecting you to say the same about me, but that says a lot that you didn¡¯t.¡± There was a smile hiding behind the mask, only visible through the joy in her eyes. ¡°But you may sit now.¡±


    With a grunt, and full intention to ignore her flirting already, I slowly pushed myself up. Movement briefly assisted on the right side by the techie so that I didn''t rupture anything. I looked like garbage. Clara had cut a long line up most of my torso, navel to neck, and I could only imagine the horrors she had to dig through in saving my life. Something I¡¯d repay at any asked cost, if I had the chance.


    ¡°Easy on your footing and take things slow.¡±


    Slid my legs to the side and shuffled to find the floor. Some residual ache in my knee, but it was working - all that I could ask of it. Same in my left shoulder. I lifted my hand up and flexed my fingers. Living at least another day, if all things went well. The parts of me not immediately around the surgery site were still dirty. Dried sweat and grime.


    In seeing where my eyes were going, the techie nudged my gun-arm. ¡°I ran a bath for you, Gunquake. I estimate there is a high chance you won¡¯t fall apart and turn it into a soup.¡±


    [Joy. But, thank you, Clara.]


    ¡°My pleasure. You can close the door, Gunquake. I have seen enough of your body for one day.¡± She pulled a face behind the mask that I couldn¡¯t read and crossed her arms. ¡°I¡¯ll mostly be in the Workshop getting things set up, but message me if any issue.¡±


    I gave her a nod and shuffled out of the room and toward the stairs. It was a miracle I was even moving, given the damage I had sustained. What I wouldn¡¯t do to get my hands on my League report to confirm that some of my Advanced power was in having abnormal amounts of health regeneration.


    The techie watched me ascend the staircase to ensure I didn¡¯t fall and split in half. As amusing as the prospect seemed, I kept myself together and made it to the bathroom fully intact. Pushed the door to, but not fully closed - just in case.


    After seeing the amount of bubbles in the bath, she was sure to get the sidekick position.


    Pulled my shorts down and stepped in. The warmth burned at the stitching that ran from my stomach up to my neck cybernetics. Something to remind me that I wasn¡¯t actually invincible, despite all evidence to the contrary.


    Probably should have asked Clara to put my goggles on, but the break from everything but living might do me some good. Was mostly anxious and wanting to see if Roxy had sent me any messages. So much to say to her, but just knowing that she was fine would be nice.


    I clenched and unfurled my toes. How far I¡¯d come recently. Not even the power gained or my potential superhero career. Just¡­ caring for others. Caring for myself, even. Disregarding my desire to leap headfirst into deadly situations, I now at least bathed and dressed properly. Maintained friendships.


    The spark of hope that Roxy could drag me into having something more in my life had bloomed into a firework. Apt considering the previous day and growth of the super. But now I wasn¡¯t just a killer or a tool for Boss. I was digging my own destiny with my own one and a half hands.


    If Roxy appeared and snapped me in half, or banished me for what happened from the fight - that would be acceptable, and I¡¯d consider my ascent no less of a success. Hardship was bound to occur. I had hopes that we could patch things up, though. Mostly because of the way I felt about her.


    An aimless ache in my chest that could just be my injured organs, but also my heart, hoping that she was fine. Certainly, I always bounced back from the brink of death, but to me, she had been almost actually invincible.


    Being thrown around like a rag-doll definitely drove that nail home.


    I sighed, losing track of the time as my thoughts were filled with the duel. Water was cooling so I let some out. Hopefully soaking for a while longer wouldn¡¯t harm my healing. Hot tap back on and I felt¡­ relaxed? As much as I would like to praise the bubbles for easing away my pains, it was more likely to be the last of the stims working through my lax body.


    Heat at an acceptable level, I turned the tap back off and leaned back and exhaled slowly. Put my left arm fully in the water beneath the bubbles to soothe those muscles, but the shotgun stayed on the edge. Prevented me from becoming fully submerged, but that was probably a good thing with how heavy my eyelids felt. Body did need the rest.


    Eyes flickered open. Some time had clearly passed, but the water was still warm. Footsteps on the stairs. Could be Clara, but no¡­ not as soft.


    Bathroom door opened slowly, and Roxy stepped in, closing the door behind her. I froze in place.


    Sports bra and shorts, the rest of her body still marred by streaks of black like charcoal and barely healed cuts. She looked exhausted, an withdrawn and annoyed look on her dirty face. My figurative tongue held in my throat as I waited to see if she was about to kick my head through the wall.


    ¡°Feel like shit. I need a bath.¡±


    [Roxy¡­ I can get out, I¡¯ve been in here a while-]


    ¡°You move and I¡¯ll fucking kill you.¡±


    Her arms went up, and she pulled her top off. Dropped it to the floor before leaning forward to pull her compression shorts down. Kicked to the side.


    ¡°Apparently I¡¯m some volcanic bitch now.¡± She held her arms out for me to see, before then flexing a leg in my direction.


    Both extremities looked dried and cracked, as if they had blistered or scabbed over. Surface level, so they should heal - but it gave good reason for her dour expression.


    ¡°They said I¡¯d need to get used to it. What do you think, Dubs?¡±


    I eyed the fully nude super up and down. Despite the damage she had sustained, the bathroom light above her illuminated her musculature as if she was on display, red hair bright and blazing against the otherwise soft tones of the room.


    [You look like a literal goddess.]


    ¡°Asshole.¡± Her expression softened. ¡°Don¡¯t want to hear it. I¡¯ll tell you what is going to happen right now.¡±


    She moved closer and stepped one leg into the other side of the bath. Her teeth clenched, and she hissed as the dried limb sunk beneath the bubbles. Second leg followed, before she turned and lowered the rest of herself in. Once sitting fully, she sighed deeply, and her eyes finally came up to mine.


    They were brighter now. No longer just amber in color, they had a wavering glow, as if they were on fire in the background. Enrapturing.


    ¡°As you did this to me, you have to clean me off. It''s only fair.¡± Her arm went down into the thick layer of bubbles toward me. ¡°Give me your hand.¡±


    A couple of seconds of her padding around in the unknown depths, before she paused. Her eyebrows raised in genuine surprise and fiery eyes went back up to mine slowly.


    ¡°Oh. That¡¯s not your hand.¡±

 59 - Just Rewards

    I stared up at the plain white ceiling, my tired eyes actually satisfied with the lack of stimuli. They''d been through a lot recently, and the visual calm helped ground me.


    Roxy¡¯s hand ran gently up my bare torso, before cupping the side of my gasmask, turning my head toward her. She lay beside me, her eyes dancing with that fiery glow. Dangerously alluring. My arm was around her back, gently caressing her as she hugged up beside me.


    ¡°That was actually surprisingly thorough.¡±


    [Oh? I¡¯m under doctor¡¯s orders to take it easy, actually.]


    She bit her lip at the insinuation, before her eyes went down to my chest. Her expression cooled and turned into something much more glum. ¡°Dubs, I¡¯m so sorry for this.¡± A finger ran alongside the healing stitch.


    [It¡¯s done now, we¡¯re both at fault.]


    ¡°But also this.¡± She gestured to the handprint still scoured into my flesh. ¡°You can get a skin graft over it, right?¡±


    Instead of an answer, I moved my left hand around to take hers, and I placed it gently over the healed burn. A near perfect match.


    [Proof that my heart belongs to you.]


    ¡°Fucking prick.¡± She moved herself up and put her forehead against mine. ¡°I almost killed you.¡± We maintained close eye contact as frustrated tears built up before running down her face.


    [I am sorry for what I put you through, and forgive you for what you did.]


    ¡°Likewise, Dubs. I¡¯m just so glad you¡¯re okay.¡± She leaned up slightly to kiss my forehead, before wriggling back down into my grasp. I held her until our moods shifted back down into comforting warmth rather than the regrets of the previous day.


    [How do you feel about your dormant powers coming to life?]


    Roxy sighed and closed her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s overwhelming. I now have this extra layer of bullshit that I don¡¯t understand and can¡¯t control. The League has offered me all sorts of training and coaching but¡­ and I know this is short-sighted¡­ I just want you to do it.¡±


    [I¡¯m no expert, but if you feel that is the most comfortable way for you to learn, I¡¯m here for you.]


    ¡°You are.¡± Her fingertips drummed idly on the side of my stomach. ¡°This is probably too soon, Dubs¡­ but would you like to sleep in my room, going forward?¡±


    [But where would you sleep then?]


    She pushed away to prop herself up on an elbow and look down at me. ¡°Asshole. I know I¡¯m being a clingy bitch, but I¡¯m willing to skip some conventions to actually feel happy and secure.¡±


    [So am I your boyfriend now?]


    ¡°Hell yeah you are, motherfucker. You like that?¡± She held my hand up and gave it a soft kiss. ¡°I did win our duel after all.¡±


    [It was close, but I¡¯m proud of you.]


    The super rolled her eyes and pushed herself up to leave the bed. ¡°Only a psycho would congratulate me on beating them to death.¡± She stepped around to the wardrobe and stretched out, the blinds allowing a thin strip of light to run down her figure vertically. ¡°Sounds just like my sort of man, though.¡±


    [Well, I¡¯m sure that you¡¯re¡­ my type¡­ as well?]


    She turned her head and raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re clearly not inexperienced, Dubs. Very clearly.¡± Roxy paused and bit her lip. ¡°As long as you don¡¯t remember a wife from your old life, I¡¯m sure we¡¯re fine?¡±


    [It''s very unlikely I had anything like that.]


    I pushed myself up to a seating position. Torso was still bruised as hell. Cavorting with the super was probably a terrible idea, but often passion got in the way of good decision making. I instead turned my eyes over to Roxy, who was deciding what to wear. She might have some insecurity about her muscles, or the ridiculous tan lines, but I was completely besotted.


    She turned her head again and caught me in the act. ¡°Quit gawking. You¡¯ve seen quite enough of me already for one day. Get dressed so we can have a family meeting.¡±


    If I had my own way, we would have remained in bed for the rest of the day. Partly because my body screamed for some rest. The other part was more obvious.


    [I''m not allowed to wear anything more than compression shorts. Doctor¡¯s orders.]


    ¡°You sure she¡¯s not just being a perv?¡± Roxy sighed and opened up the drawers beside the wardrobe. ¡°Haven¡¯t decided if it¡¯s cute or not that we both fit in the same size shorts.¡±


    I caught the pair thrown at me and shuffled off of the bed to pull them on. In a change from the norm, the super put on a summer dress. An orange that almost matched the burning within her eyes. I followed her over to the door, where she paused and turned to me. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she leaned into me.


    ¡°I¡¯m excited to spend more time with you, Dubs. It feels like we go back and forth, always busy, but I want to get to know you better... I want you to get to know me better.¡± She gave me an awkward kiss on the re-breather. ¡°Also, we need to get you a fucking mouth. I can live with the gun-arm, but lips are a must.¡±


    [Agreed. Perhaps we need to work on your hand-eye coordination in return, so you don¡¯t ¡®accidentally¡¯ grab things you shouldn¡¯t.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t you air-quotes me, asshole.¡± Roxy pressed her face up into the side of my neck and sighed. ¡°You did give me a good clean, though, huh?¡±


    [I¡¯m glad your extremities are looking a lot better.]


    She stepped away to hold her arms out. All the dried stuff had flaked away, leaving fresh healing skin, slightly more pink than usual. ¡°Could have been a lot worse. They¡¯re sensitive, but no lasting damage.¡±


    The super smiled and turned from me, now opening the door to the rest of the house. I had last entered the home as a dying man on his last legs. Now I was emerging as an official item with a powerful superhero. It was... bizarre, in some ways.


    We walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Roxy went to the freezer and pulled out a tub of ice-cream and a fresh canister for me.


    I replaced it and put the empty one in the trash, noticing that her eyes were still all over me as she leaned against a counter.


    [Someone else gawking a little too much?]


    ¡°Mostly at your injuries.¡± She wiggled her spoon at me. ¡°Although... Can you even believe what we did yesterday? What we just did?¡±


    [Barely. It feels right, though, doesn¡¯t it?]


    ¡°Oh, certainly does. Other than turning you into mashed potato.¡± She pulled a face. ¡°Clara told me how bad it was and what she had to do.¡±


    I tapped at the side of my chest on my new metallic ribs.


    [Apparently it means less breaks from weaker attacks, but if someone like you were to crush me again, I¡¯ll just have bent metal parts in my lungs instead.]


    ¡°My poor fragile pup.¡± She flared her nostrils as she scooped up ice-cream. ¡°I suppose there¡¯s no real way of making you invincible against a living goddess like me, huh?¡± Her eyes went up to linger on me as she mouthed the frozen goods from the spoon.


    Before I could formulate a response, the front door opened, and we turned to watch the techie walk in. In slate gray dungarees with a black undershirt on, she wrinkled up her nose at seeing us.


    ¡°Ah, you¡¯re both awake and healthy. Was about to check if either of you had drowned.¡±


    Roxy placed the ice-cream tub down. ¡°You want some toast, hun?¡±


    ¡°Please, it has been a taxing morning.¡± She stepped into the kitchen and crossed her arms, green eyes looking me up and down. ¡°Healing well, Gunquake. I¡¯d avoid strenuous activity for another couple of days, however. Can never be too safe.¡±


    I nodded slowly as we maintained eye contact.


    The toaster clicked down, and the super spun back around to us. ¡°Oh, you want to use the spare room again tonight? Because¡­¡± She paused, and her expression sunk away, a realization that she had given the game away almost instantly.


    Clara rolled her eyes. ¡°Couldn¡¯t wait two minutes to brag, could you? You¡¯ll be happy to know, Gunquake, that I¡¯ve adjusted your monitor so that I can switch it to notify me of emergencies only.¡±


    [That is¡­ good to know.]


    Roxy just held a grimace, not willing to move - until the toast popped up.


    ¡°I actually had a proposition for you, Rockslide.¡± The techie tilted her head back to the super. ¡°Allow me to move in on a permanent basis.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Toast was placed on a plate and handed over to the petite woman. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how I feel about that... in regards to privacy and tripping over each other? Don¡¯t get me wrong - I love you, hun, but that¡¯s quite a jump with everything going on currently.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll put half the proceeds from my apartment sale in the mouth fund.¡±


    ¡°Sold.¡± Roxy clicked her fingers. ¡°Unless Dubs has any objections?¡±


    [I can¡¯t see any downsides to having Clara in close proximity to me at all times.]


    ¡°You make it sound like I¡¯m a troublemaker, Gunquake.¡± She smiled as she took a bite of her plain snack.


    <hr>


    There was an odd calm to the weather today. Sunny and pleasant, but not overly warm. Just as soon as Roxy had finished imagining all the credit signs in her eyes she''d get by taking in Clara and part of her wealth, we had decided to find out if the super could bring out her new powers again.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Well, it was mostly her idea. I was keen to get the rest that Clara told me to, and the techie had one-hundred and one things she wanted to do.


    But the League had told Roxy that if she could get control of the new superpower, then it was almost guaranteed she¡¯d be moved up to A-Rank. The dangling promotion had been an energy boost for her, and I¡¯d never seen her so motivated.


    She growled, standing in my area of the outdoors while I sat on the grass in front of the house. Fists balled up and in a tense pose, she had tried forcing it out through brute willpower. But nothing other than a bit of sweat had been produced.


    Soft footsteps behind me as Clara joined us from the workshop and sat on one of the deckchairs. ¡°There¡¯s some residual heat increase, but nowhere near the amount as yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Dubs.¡± Roxy put her hands on her hips and scowled over at me. ¡°Shout some mean things at me, maybe?¡±


    [Hard pass. I am not becoming the target of your anger again.]


    She sighed and stepped over closer, putting a pause to her efforts.


    ¡°What about if I flirted with him, Rockslide?¡± Clara offered.


    ¡°Eh.¡± The super tilted her head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure it would really have the same effect now that we¡­ now that we¡¯re official, you know?¡±


    [Also not a good precedent to set as the way you activate your powers.]


    ¡°I could feel him up?¡± The techie persisted.


    [Clara.]


    Roxy shrugged. ¡°Sorry, Dubs. I would totally pimp you out to Clara if it meant getting my A-Rank. It¡¯s a huge career boost, and I mean, we¡¯re all adults here. Seen each other naked and stuff. You¡¯d do whatever it took to help me, right?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Clara furrowed her brow. ¡°Gunquake hasn¡¯t seen me naked.¡±


    [More importantly, the fact that you are okay with it means it probably wouldn¡¯t work to wind you up enough to activate your power.]


    ¡°Rats. Glad one of us has a level head.¡± The super sighed.


    ¡°Just so we¡¯re clear,¡± Clara continued, ¡°are we talking full frontal? Just so I know what I can get away with in the future.¡±


    Roxy scowled at her. ¡°Whatever, creep. Try thinking up ways I can turn into magma instead.¡±


    "It would actually be lava, sister. Magma is when it''s underground."


    The super just scowled at the techie, perhaps considering whether to put her underground as well. I tried to shift tracks to something more normal.


    [I actually have an idea. If we are having a casual day, why not invite Roy around?]


    ¡°Roy¡­¡± She tilted her head. ¡°Sure. Done.¡± Rolling out her shoulders, she then pulled off her dress to reveal the gym clothes underneath.


    He might not have the best track record of being a good friend to the other two, but I liked to think I had built enough rapport with the speedster that hanging out with him might become a common thing. Rough around the edges, but there was a lot of work we could do with him in building the super group back up to standard.


    Wasn¡¯t long before a small shape appeared from the road to the city, gradually increasing in size as a cloud of dust billowed behind him. The Captain slid to a stop across my yard, dressed in a black tank top and matching shorts. He eyed each of us in turn, his brow furrowing further.


    ¡°Not sure what I¡¯ve got myself in for here.¡± He grinned as he stepped up closer. ¡°Before I address the more obvious things, I got one thing to do.¡±


    I raised my eyebrow as he stopped and turned towards the techie.


    ¡°Miss Clara, I would like to apologize for all the rude things I have called you in the past.¡±


    ¡°Forgiven, Captain. I appreciate it.¡± She gave him a nod.


    The speedster then turned to me. ¡°What the fuck happened to you, Dubs? You look like someone tore you in half."


    [Remember that duel with Roxy I mentioned?]


    His eyebrows raised, and he crossed his arms, head tilting towards the strength super. ¡°You did this to him? I thought it was supposed to be something friendly.¡±


    ¡°It was until he said something mean about me.¡± She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s okay, he¡¯s my boyfriend now.¡±


    ¡°For real? I¡¯m not exactly surprised, although that doesn¡¯t actually make the near-murder of him ¡®okay¡¯.¡±


    [I¡¯ll get over it. I was wondering if you¡¯d do the same sort of sparring with Roxy today?]


    ¡°There¡¯s a good reason, just to forewarn you.¡± Roxy gestured back to my empty lot beside the kill-room. ¡°In our romantic murder-duel yesterday, I unlocked a dormant power.¡±


    ¡°No shit? You serious?¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± The super''s face was alight with excitement. ¡°And if I can get control of it, I might get A-Rank promotion.¡±


    ¡°Fucking hells, Rox. I¡¯d start dating Dubs too, if he did that for me.¡±


    I watched them walk off in enraptured conversation and shook my head. Clearly I was underestimating how much the Rank business meant to a hero. I looked up as Clara stepped over to me and sat to my right on the grass.


    ¡°Shotgun,¡± she requested, bringing the maintenance case onto her lap.


    Arm went out into her hands, and she started to get it clean. Something that was comforting for us both, like how primates preened each other.


    ¡°You¡¯re doing really well, Gunquake,¡± she eventually said, with a nod out to the two supers.


    Roxy was on full defensive and trying to block the Captain as he increased his speed and jabbed out at her. It would be much healthier if her power activation came from combat frustration rather than something external, like our relationship.


    [Two in progress, two to go.]


    ¡°Although I will be your sidekick, League willing, I will also help you with getting the rest of the herd in order.¡± She tapped the side of my gun and I opened up the chamber.


    [That¡¯s what you¡¯ve been working on while I¡¯ve been recovering, isn¡¯t it?]


    The techie shot me a coy smile. ¡°Not much gets past you, Gunquake. I¡¯ll let you in on one secret, but the other will wait till the children are done playing. In addition to the extended sensor dome¡ªwhich picked up the Captain, by the way¡ªthe Dead Zone also now covers the same area around us.¡±


    [Won¡¯t the League know, or get suspicious?]


    Clara pulled a face as she slid something into my arm to polish the inside of the chamber. ¡°I¡¯m in no mood to explain the intricacies of how it works today. You¡¯ll just have to trust me, Gunquake.¡±


    [I do, Clara.]


    She tapped me again to let me know I could close the chamber. Case closed once more, she put it to the side, and we watched the supers training.


    Roy was a blur, kicking up dust with his short movements as he circled Roxy to try to jab at her undefended areas. Considering she was only slightly quicker than me, she was holding up well to his increased speed. I could tell that she was getting annoyed at all his punches that she couldn¡¯t block - and hoped that it would annoy her enough into building up the pressure once more.


    [Thanks again for saving my life, Clara. I¡¯m not sure I could ever say that enough.]


    ¡°You¡¯re always welcome, Gunquake.¡± She sighed and flicked out a little gadget to keep her hands busy. ¡°Seems lately all our conversations have revolved around relationships or lewd acts. We should focus on work a little more. There''s so much yet to accomplish.¡±


    [It¡¯s a rest day. I¡¯m okay pretending that work doesn¡¯t exist for the moment.]


    Five years of only living to complete tasks assigned to me. A potential career of being a superhero in front of me, whatever that truly entailed. I¡¯d start living for myself a little more. Carve this existence to be a little wider and more comfortable. For a man with nine lives, I¡¯d make sure what remaining few were worth living.


    ¡°I watched a ten-minute video on back massages, so I¡¯m practically an expert. If it¡¯s not too inappropriate, would you like one?¡± She tilted her head.


    [Go ahead. I doubt it would be an issue.]


    Clara stood and brushed her dungarees down, before moving to kneel just behind me. ¡°Rockslide seems totally unbothered by any innuendo between us now. It¡¯s a little disappointing, I suppose. It sounds like she had concocted up some other scenarios that were giving fuel for her rage yesterday, but it makes me happy that she is over it.¡±


    Her hands palmed at my back, starting from just beneath my neck cybernetics. Alternating between circular motions and pushes along the muscle groups, it relieved a little of the stress I¡¯d accumulated. Much rather this than trying to fight the supers.


    [What are your thoughts on Roxy and I now dating?]


    ¡°I¡¯ve always had an¡­ immature view of love. When I think of it, I can only picture my parents before the incident. As such, there¡¯s a great deal of comfort and happiness in seeing you two together, but also some trepidation that it could be taken away. Once you¡¯re an official superhero, you¡¯ll have to report it to the League as well, Gunquake.¡±


    [Gross. I had a feeling that would be the case. As a gloomy anti-hero I might be a tough sell for a public relationship.]


    ¡°Ah, I wouldn¡¯t say that.¡± She bent lower to push alongside my spine to my lower back. ¡°If they know what¡¯s good for them, the A-Rank Rockslide might have a makeover to fit both her new power and pairing with you.¡±


    [An interesting thought.]


    ¡°How is the massage, Gunquake? I didn''t have time to prepare a feedback form.¡±


    [Very relaxing. Are you able to go any deeper into the muscle?]


    ¡°Not without breaking my fingers off. Perhaps I¡¯m not the right tool for the task.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fuck!¡±


    We looked back over to the pair, as Roy stood apart from the strength super, waving his hand in the air to cool it off as if he had been burned. Roxy lowered her arms, which were red, but not glowing.


    There was a murmur of a potential apology, and then they came back over toward us.


    ¡°No wonder I was sweating like a pig.¡± The Captain rubbed at his forehead. ¡°Thought I was getting unfit, but you actually have volcano powers.¡±


    ¡°Not just a hothead,¡± Roxy said with a nod, although her expression was glum. ¡°That worked up some temperature, but wasn¡¯t quite enough. Thanks though, Roy.¡±


    Clara clicked her fingers and stood. ¡°Great. We can swap now, Rockslide, as I have something for the Captain.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay?¡± The super stepped around behind me. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what to do, though.¡±


    ¡°Tenderize the muscle groups. You, of all people, should know them. Apparently my nimble little hands are insufficient to satiate your man.¡± She paused before moving away. ¡°Just don¡¯t break him, please.¡±


    Roy pulled a face as the techie walked off to the workshop, before turning back to us. ¡°She always talks like that?¡±


    [Yeah.]


    ¡°Hmm.¡± He nodded as Roxy began plying my shoulders into submission. ¡°This isn¡¯t some harem thing, right?¡±


    [Flattered, but I have my hands full enough as it is.]


    ¡°I¡¯m not willing to share,¡± Roxy added, pressing into my muscles. ¡°Unless¡­ you have several million credits, seeing as you couldn¡¯t activate my abilities via fighting.¡±


    [We haven¡¯t even been dating a day and you¡¯ve already negotiated our exclusivity twice.]


    ¡°It¡¯s not like that, Dubs.¡± She leaned forward and kissed me on the shoulder. ¡°Once we get your mouth and my A-Rank I¡¯d just kill any competition off.¡±


    Roy pulled a face. ¡°I¡¯ll pass¡­ on all of the above, then. Thanks.¡±


    Clara emerged from the workshop with a case in her hands. ¡°These are just basic prototypes, Captain. Functional but not a fair example of the final intended product.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t see what was within when she popped it open, due to the angle - but I had a pretty good guess at what she could have made.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to wear these conductive gloves for now, but put them on and go punch up the training dummies for me. I¡¯m going to set up a camera if you consent?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yeah. Sure thing, Clara.¡± Roy nodded, his brow furrowed. He turned to look at me as he held up two fist weapons.


    Long black gloves down his forearms for protection, the fist parts looked to be spare gauntlet parts. Although the right-hand one didn¡¯t seem necessary to stockpile, given what I already had. Small devices had been affixed to the back of the hand, wires and different connections leading to a group of small prongs jutting forth.


    ¡°Oh,¡± the techie continued as he walked down to my set of four dummies, ¡°and don¡¯t strike them together, Captain. Unless you want cybernetic hands?¡±


    The last part came out as more of an offer than a warning, but I was too busy being turned into soft paste to do anything but enjoy my current position.


    ¡°How am I doing, Dubs?¡± Roxy paused briefly to put her arms around me from behind.


    [Pure bliss. The fact that your hands are heated makes the experience even more relaxing.]


    ¡°I can¡¯t feel it myself, but I¡¯ll take your word for it.¡± She rested her head against mine. ¡°Good call on bringing Roy over. I was hesitant, as he is usually a huge prick, but it seems you really did fix him up as well.¡±


    We watched as the speedster approached the four figures of the training dummies. After rolling out his shoulder, he lashed forward - a spark of electricity jolting from the end of his fist onto the target. In a blur, he had already moved to the next and struck it twice, each time small arcs of bright blue flashed around the impact points.


    Beside us, Clara wedged a spike into the ground, the long pole having a camera on the top.


    ¡°Need something with a bit more weight so I can slow it down after. Captain has boxing experience, but I want to see if there are any other combat styles that would be more effective.¡± She switched on the camera and angled it to ensure it picked up the training. ¡°The flashes actually hurt my eyes, so I¡¯m going to go get your contract, Gunquake.¡±


    The super continued to hold on to me as we watched Roy speed up. The arcs grew more intensive and lengthened as he repeatedly zipped between the dummies. Pulses of blue illuminated the area, the crackling hiss of his attacks rising in pitch as he continued.


    ¡°Look at us,¡± Roxy murmured. ¡°Your progress. The group starting to reform. Our relationship. We¡¯re really on a winning streak, huh?¡±


    She wasn¡¯t wrong.


    No longer was I living just to kill and do as I was told. I had forged my own path, creating things and growing genuine connections with people. Part of me wondered if this was Boss¡¯s plan all along. Saw the cracks forming so pushed the little bird from the nest in hopes I could fly. Given me the out that involved the least amount of violence and death.


    Still, his silence was uncomfortable. The fact that I was cozying up to the League didn¡¯t mean I was their friend, either. I¡¯d stay beholden to them for a while, but the plan had always been to gather up enough power and control to separate myself from all else. To no longer have someone pulling on my strings. A real life of my own.


    We¡¯d enjoy the next few days of rest and recovery. Drink deep from the hard-earned banquet we had put together.


    For I had no doubt that this was just a lull, and more tests were due to come in no time at all.

 60 - Persistent Shadows

    I had somehow lucked my way into having a social life. Not without some teething issues, and a few near-deaths along the way, but I had made it. Even the way in which Roxy clicked into being confident with me was surprising. Something about her power awakening had been an ice-breaker, and the occasional blushing embarrassment of before had burned away to just being contented closeness.


    With the strongest pout she could muster, she gave up on trying to draw on her volcano powers for the day. Roy had still managed to burn his upper arms while using the tazer-fist weapons, and earned himself a migraine along with some admonishment from the techie for overdoing it.


    The rest of the afternoon was spent helping Clara moving things into the workshop. Well, it was mostly the two supers doing the hard work while she bossed them about. I had leave from any difficult work due to her insistence that there was still a chance I could pop open like an overstuffed soft toy and spill my red fluff all over the garden.


    Roxy stole every chance to put her hand on me or find a place somewhere around my upper body that felt satisfying enough to kiss. At least, until Clara handed me the important parts of my contract and shooed the super away until I finished getting the information inside my head.


    Apparently this superhero stuff was more involved than I previously thought.


    The public appearance rules were the most egregious. It looked as though Clara had shuffled away everything that didn¡¯t pertain to vigilante heroes, as luckily I wouldn¡¯t need to do as much showboating as the rest. In fact, if I could push on the anti-hero vibe, then I¡¯d at most only have to do a handful of ¡®nice asshole¡¯ showings to keep my good standing with the populace.


    Personal Rank was different from Group Rank, but often paired together. Lowest tier was E, and it went up to S. For superheroes, they didn¡¯t limit how many were allowed per tier, but it was based on the number of powers as well as strength and control over said powers. Each higher tier meant a higher salary from the League, as well as more marketing opportunities, merch, and better missions to fight against higher profile threats.


    For Groups, there was only one S-Rank team. Three A-Ranks, then five each of B and C-Rank. Seems they didn¡¯t bother making anything lower than that. Getting Roxy to A-Rank would be a big step for promoting the whole team, who were currently sinking out of the lower end of B-Rank - but the others would have to put in their all as well.


    We didn¡¯t all need to match her, but our overall strength and value to the League would have to beat out the lowest tiered A-Rank once we had risen to the highest B-Rank.


    I quickly grew tired of the word ¡®Rank¡¯ and added it alongside ¡®super¡¯ as things I repeated far too often.


    Now I was concerned at how I would be Ranked, and if I might drag everyone else down. I¡¯d have to collar Clara at some point and have a proper sitdown over how I can be even better than yesterday.


    Most of my work would be in shifts. Three days a week at first, and mostly nights due to my intended role. City patrols unless they had a specific villain or criminal group that they had intel on and wanted me to rough up. Some of it just seemed to be¡­ making a showing, at least. Have some civilians spot me perched atop a gargoyle looking brooding or something else cliche like that.


    I wasn¡¯t a fan of it, but I¡¯d play along.


    With my permission, Clara obtained the workbench and whatever else she wanted from my prior home. Roxy suggested that I burn the mattress and destroy whatever we didn¡¯t take. The techie counter-suggested that she could turn it into a proper kill-room with some small modifications. Neither super seemed keen on that idea.


    Something I¡¯d have to get used to. The League of Heroes wasn¡¯t impressed with wholesale murder, and the violence I usually employed would have to be toned down. A little difficult considering my right arm was a lethal weapon and I had the techie bouncing about in the background figuring out new warcrime-worthy cartridges I could shoot things with.


    If we ever turned villain, then we¡¯d¡­ no, best not to even think that out into the world.


    The induction would be similar trials as the sidekick route. A little more varied. Some set up missions and some actual live criminal fighting. Judged through all parts. Those, plus the results of the blood test, went toward my Rank.


    Although Clara and I had a million things to get through, my transportation to the city would need to be in better shape than at present. Roy assured me he knew a guy that could do a good job of repairing the scratches and dents I¡¯d earned on the bike by falling into a ditch after killing the Five Eyes. Might even be able to upgrade some parts of it. Joy.


    As the afternoon rolled to a close and dusk started to dim the lighting across the outskirts of the city, we retired to the lounge. Dining room all but cleared and most of the workshop either outfitted or storing things ready for using in the future. I was half tempted to order a third building, specifically as a warehouse, so the current larger room could house machinery - but we¡¯d build things up when required.


    TV on, Roy reclined on the side chair while the pair of woman sat either side of me as was tradition. The two supers had bottles of beers they had been nursing, while the techie had replaced my canister and then all but fallen asleep against me. After having to put me back together, I didn¡¯t blame her for being a wreck for a few days.


    ¡°This is one of my favorites,¡± Roy informed us, gesturing to the movie.


    ¡°Really?¡± Roxy tilted her head. ¡°Kind of odd for a zombie movie.¡±


    ¡°To have a zombie as the protagonist? Yeah, I like the dark humor, though.¡±


    [I will admit the anti-hero angle appeals to me.]


    The strength super rolled her eyes, but squeezed my hand. ¡°Typical.¡±


    I had been allowed to wear a white t-shirt, which was pleasant after being in nothing but sports underwear for the whole day. While the wound on the outside of me was healing at an extraordinary rate, I was still bruised and Clara was insistent that most of the internal damage would need further time to recover. I believed her, barely imagining what she had to go through to put me back in one living piece.


    As was also tradition, I didn¡¯t think any of us were actually watching the movie, aside from Roy. Clara was close to drooling down my gun-arm as her tired weight pressed against it. On my left, I could almost hear the cogs clicking around in Roxy''s head as she tried to imagine other ways she could activate her powers.


    I didn¡¯t really know where I stood on anything at present. Exhausted in my own way. Stims were almost out, so no faux stamina to keep me going. All energy draining from my canister was going into repairing my shattered insides. There was some¡­ excited tension at getting to sleep beside the super tonight.


    It was soon, but I understood her reasons.


    We¡¯d known each other for such a short time, and yet I had almost died three or four times. She didn¡¯t want to regret not having these moments by taking our relationship slower. I shared the sentiment. A month ago, the only relationship I had was a disembodied voice telling me who to kill for money I didn¡¯t care for. Now I had the pick of things I could be thankful for.


    Starting tomorrow, I would-


    ¡°Ah!¡± Clara bolted upright and leaped from the couch.


    Roxy and I were up on our feet just as quick.


    [What¡¯s wrong?]


    The techie stared off unfocused for a moment, before her green eyes glowing in the dim light of the lounge switched to us. ¡°It¡¯s a response from Dr Jarl¡¯s institute.¡±


    ¡°The cyber doc?¡± Roxy asked. ¡°What does it say?¡±


    I felt the tension grip at my insides and hoped it was just empathy rather than my organs turning to mush.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m too anxious to open it.¡± She grimaced in an out-of-character display of worry.


    Roy shuffled in his chair. ¡°What I usually do if I¡¯m nervous about something is-¡±


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve opened it.¡± Clara¡¯s eyes went back and forth over invisible text as Roxy gripped at my arm. Thankfully, she was controlling her strength.


    Silence filled the room, save for the groaning and muffled quips coming from the television.


    Clara¡¯s eyes turned to me, and her shoulders slumped. Mouth scrunched up into a glum pout for several seconds, and then she burst.


    ¡°I got accepted!¡± She leaped up onto me and I caught her in a hug. Roxy put her arms around both of us and we had a little group moment, while the speedster sat rather confused.


    Remembering that I was rather fragile, the techie slid back to the floor, her eyes only barely brighter than the smile on her face. ¡°Again, imagine that I had the ability to cry and was doing so profusely. I cannot thank you enough, Gunquake.¡±


    [No need. Only the best for my future sidekick. You saved my life six times yesterday, so this pales in comparison.]


    ¡°Six times?¡± Roxy asked, narrowing her eyes. ¡°You said it was just the one, gremlin.¡±


    ¡°Technically, it was eight, but the tech skipped two of the times you flatlined.¡±


    ¡°Clara!¡± The super sighed and rubbed at her eyes. ¡°Well, thanks for doing that and fucking hell yeah, we need to celebrate this, right?¡±


    The techie nodded enthusiastically. ¡°I actually have way too much energy to exist at a comfortable level. Could we use the gym so I can calm down?¡±


    ¡°Fucking yes, let¡¯s do this. I wanted to see if working out helped with my power as well.¡±


    Roxy led the practically vibrating woman out of the room, shooting me a wide smile over her shoulder. Another success case, I was sure she was telling me. I agreed, and was elated myself.


    I sighed, rattling my re-breather. Turned around to face the rather confused looking speedster. Gestured with my head.


    [Want to get some fresh air?]


    With a nod, it wasn¡¯t long before the two of us were sitting on the porch. The cool air felt nice, and gave me time to reflect on what a day it had been.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got something real good going on here,¡± Roy said, breaking the silence. ¡°It¡¯s honestly¡­ night and day compared to the housewarming party.¡±


    [I¡¯ve had a bath or two since then, I suppose.]


    ¡°Dickhead.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Even Rox. I don¡¯t know if she¡¯s told you, so I apologize if I¡¯m kicking the shitter over here, but her last relationship didn¡¯t end well and the asshole really put her through the wringer in the public eye.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    [And the League didn¡¯t make it any better, causing her to feel disenfranchised with the organization?]


    He nodded slowly. ¡°Not just a pretty face, are you? Get the details from her, as I don¡¯t want to start some he-said, she-said crap and get people killed. Seeing her out of her shell again gives me hope for the team.¡±


    [I¡¯m glad. I intend to get this team back up and running.]


    ¡°Hmm. About that¡­ well, adjacent to that.¡± He took a brief swig from his bottle. ¡°Rox mentioned you¡¯re saving for face surgery. I¡¯d like to put a little in the pot.¡±


    [Oh? There¡¯s a queue if you¡¯re interested in kissing me.]


    ¡°Fuck you, Dubs.¡± He grinned. ¡°It¡¯s dirty money, anyway. Couldn¡¯t touch it even if I wanted to, which I don¡¯t. It might be a drop in the bucket, but it¡¯s there if you want it.¡± He held his arm out, his STAR projecting a balance total in front of me.


    100,000 credits, give or take.


    [You sure about this?]


    ¡°Of course. The way you¡¯re going, you¡¯ll push the team to A-Rank in no time and you¡¯ll make this money back for me tenfold.¡±


    [The difference is that much, huh?]


    ¡°It¡¯s significant, but nobody at that level will yap about specifics.¡±


    Made sense. I could imagine that the S-Rank super group were probably millionaires, if not close. I¡¯d need to prod Roxy with these additional funds and see what her collection looked like so far. Then we¡¯d need to get quotes - although with Clara now working for one of the best cybernetics experts around, we may have found our ideal surgeon.


    That being said, I wondered how she¡¯d find time for League work, her education with Dr Jarl, and being my full-time sidekick. Perhaps we¡¯d better manage her time more realistically.


    [You still hanging about here hoping that I¡¯ll unlock a dormant power for you too?]


    He rolled his eyes before sighing. ¡°A man can¡¯t just chill with his friends now? You¡¯re a bunch of freaky-ass misfits, but at least I don¡¯t feel slimy being around you. Makes a pleasant change from all the criminals and scumbags¡­ so, thanks for the invite.¡±


    [Of course, Roy. You saved my life too, remember?]


    ¡°Only because you forced me to, asshole!¡± The speedster shook his head before looking out to the darkness of the wastes. A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. ¡°Not much chance of me having any further power, anyway. I was¡­ what they call a late bloomer. Didn¡¯t get my powers until well into adulthood.¡±


    [While you were serving?]


    ¡°Yup. I was always known as a spry fucker, quicker than most - but nothing out of the ordinary. Rose in the ranks until one day I found myself leading a platoon off-continent in some place with a name I couldn¡¯t pronounce. Just running peacekeeping patrols for some unstable area, nothing too spicy. Two weeks and not a peep from the insurgent force. We liked those kinds of deployments, even if they were boring as shit.¡±


    Roy exhaled through his nose and looked down at the bottle. ¡°Then one evening some terrible storm rolled over. Like nothing we¡¯d seen - torrential rain, wind that whipped and chilled your skin, and some fucking lightning that felt like the gods were angry at us. Course, that¡¯s when the fuckers decided to attack.¡±


    I remained quiet, nodding along with his story.


    ¡°With the ambient noise and reduced visibility, they rolled up on us before we realized. Janky tech, but when you¡¯re ambushed, even a thrown rock could do damage. My group was pinned in the crossfire. Took casualties while our evacuation vehicle rolled up. I just¡­ had to get them all back inside. That¡¯s when my power decided to activate.¡±


    He rolled his tongue around in his mouth before turning his eyes back to me. ¡°They say I saved twelve lives that day. Funny that my brain only remembers the five that I couldn¡¯t.¡±


    [Then the League took you in, tried to make you a hero.]


    ¡°Yeah. Was difficult to feel like one at that point, no matter what pressers and shiny badges they put on me. So¡­ I slipped up. Didn¡¯t want to be looked up to, so stuck both feet in the underworld and hoped¡­ well, for something.¡±


    [For a mouthless knight in shining armor to show you the light?]


    ¡°You¡¯re the mouthiest shithead I know, Dubs.¡± Some light returned to his eyes. ¡°Not sure why I even told you all that. Your power includes giving therapy sessions to misguided supers?¡±


    Usually with a few inches of reinforced steel through their skulls, but it was looking like the softer approach was also getting results.


    [I¡¯m taking control of my life and arranging things how I need them to be.]


    ¡°Arranging other people how you need them as well.¡± He gave me a brief smile before downing the rest of his beer. ¡°Not that I have any complaints. League is already champing at the bit for my revival once I can return. Your lass Clara has sent me the details of three different martial arts courses, with no further context.¡±


    [Her ambition surpasses my own. It honestly scares me some days.]


    Roy chuckled and stood up, stretching himself out. His finger tapped on the side of the empty bottle and he looked down at me. ¡°Cloudy past, right? I have some contacts in the private sector. Want me to dig around?¡±


    Part of me was almost happier not knowing. Every day survived just shoveled dirt atop the corpse of my former self. But¡­ it wasn¡¯t my own machinations I had to be wary of. With both the League and Boss hanging just out of view, waiting to prod me, it would be better to know the full picture. At least then, knowing the truth, I could better arrange the future.


    [Please, Roy. Even if it¡¯s just a dead-end, I would appreciate any efforts made.]


    ¡°Of course, Dubs. Anything to help Rox get her group into shape.¡± He gave me a wink and gestured out to the darkness. ¡°Say, how good a shot are you?¡±


    [We can find out. Bear in mind this is a shotgun, not a sniper rifle.]


    ¡°Sounds more like a you issue.¡± From his other hand, he flipped the bottle cap into the air toward me.


    I caught it and slapped it into the open chamber, just as he zipped out across the garden into the darkness. The barest amount of light picked out his frame against the rolling wastelands beyond, the bottle held in his hand.


    With a quick crouch, he then threw it up into the air.


    Could only just see it against the night¡¯s sky. Occasional blink of light as the moon graced the length of it. I dropped from my chair onto one knee, the rush of Reflex sinking through my body with a chill. Overcharge flashed through my arm and I fired.


    Bottle burst, shattering into dozens of pieces as the cap continued off into the distance a way.


    As my body cooled down, the speedster whipped back and forth in the garden, catching each of the shards of glass. Content enough that he got them all, he walked over to the porch and placed them down in a neat pile.


    ¡°Rox would beat my head in if I left glass all over her lawn.¡±


    [A valid motivation to excel.]


    ¡°You should know.¡± He shook his head and wiped his hands off on his shirt. ¡°Can¡¯t believe you now have a metal ribcage because she hit you so hard, and you two are still smooching. Or whatever the equivalent for you is.¡±


    [Again, you are surprised at this despite me throwing myself in death¡¯s way to make you choose a side.]


    The speedster crossed his arms and sighed. ¡°One day, my friend, you¡¯ll do that with someone even more of a shitbag than we are, and you¡¯ll die.¡±


    [I¡¯d certainly feel foolish about that. I¡¯ll let you in on a little secret though, Roy.]


    With a grunt, I stood back up to my feet and shook my arm out. Clara might be annoyed I¡¯d just used a shard of metal as a projectile after she¡¯d given me a good clean, but I figured she¡¯d be too happy with her education offer to pay any attention just yet.


    [I only gamble on guaranteed wins.]


    ¡°What?¡± He scowled at me. ¡°That makes no fucking sense. You couldn¡¯t guarantee I¡¯d save you, or that Rox would have held back at the last moment.¡±


    [Pretty sure I did, though.]


    ¡°You¡¯re an asshole, Dubs.¡± Roy¡¯s exasperated disdain faded away into a grin. ¡°Been a good one. Give my regards to the girls, but I have to zoom now. Try not to die before I next see you.¡±


    [Safe travels, Captain.]


    With a quick salute, he was gone. Across the lawn, my yard, and then off toward the rough road leading to the city. Hopefully he had decent nightvision, at least until he got to the area lit by streetlamps. I couldn¡¯t imagine how much injury he could cause himself tripping over at his speed.


    Shook my head off and took one last deep breath of cool night air, before turning and going back into the house.


    Stopped in the lobby as Roxy was coming down the stairs with a towel wrapped around her neck, hair wet.


    [All is well?]


    She grinned and gave me a nod. ¡°Just needed a refresh. Exercise didn¡¯t bring out my volcano, unfortunately.¡±


    The super stepped past me and into the kitchen, her eyes lingering on me as I followed her through.


    [How did Clara fare?]


    I sat down on one of the stools as she went over to the freezer.


    ¡°Poor thing lasted five minutes before falling asleep. I took her upstairs and tucked her into bed before I washed my face off. She puts on that stoic robotic act, but everything that has happened in the last couple of days has absolutely shattered her.¡±


    [Hurts me to think about her doing all that surgery to me on her own.]


    ¡°She¡¯s a tough little gremlin, I¡¯ll give her that.¡± She turned, tub of ice-cream in her hands as she leaned back against the counter. ¡°Kinda have to be desensitized to that stuff when you work in cybernetics, but¡­ it was probably still an overload for her.¡±


    [Perhaps we all need the time off.]


    Roxy nodded. ¡°We¡¯re essentially on sick leave as far as the League is concerned. They¡¯re kind of annoyed that half our group is now out of action, but you should have seen them when they found out what I¡¯d done. Could see the credit symbols in the suit''s eyes.¡±


    Naturally, the more powerful a super was, the more the League could utilize them for missions and as a marketable product. In terms of basics, being a living volcano was a shot of adrenaline to the masses, compared to the more bland super-strength that was more common. It was even exciting for me, how much more of a threat she was.


    [Is it bad that sometimes I try to imagine how I would kill you?]


    The super put the spoon up to her lips in thought. ¡°It¡¯s kinda hot, actually. Like having that competition is motivation to not languish again. I don¡¯t think us having regular duels is healthy, though.¡±


    [Is that because you know I¡¯d eventually win?]


    ¡°You know I could spoon your eyes out right now and there¡¯s nothing you could do to stop me?¡± She raised an eyebrow.


    [Hmm. You¡¯re right, that is kind of hot.]


    Roxy shook her head and smiled. ¡°Dumbass. Oh, you¡¯ll never guess what the little gremlin somehow found the time to make for you?¡±


    [Is it something to prevent my eyes from getting spooned out?]


    ¡°No. Quit foreshadowing that, as I actually really like your eyes.¡± She pulled a face and tried to reel back in her train of thought as she dug into the tub. ¡°She made a shotgun cozy.¡±


    [So that it doesn¡¯t get cold?]


    ¡°Presumably so you don¡¯t accidentally jab me or give me a black eye with the unwieldy thing while we¡¯re sleeping. It¡¯s basically just a pillow with a hole through it, but I don¡¯t know where the woman finds the time to have so many productive thoughts.¡±


    She had definitely earned the rest, and my financial help for her education. While her power wasn¡¯t in a specific strength like the rest of us, she was a force multiplier. Able to extend our capabilities, sharpen out the rough ends, and make us more effective. I¡¯m sure that Roxy would love for me to spend my millions on the new face¡­ but I was investing in all of us first. We¡¯d discuss the mouth fund in the morning, and see how far off that ploy was.


    ¡°Ah.¡± The super chucked the spoon in the sink. ¡°Not being able to cook us food is making me lazy and eating ice cream again. Need to do an extra shift in the gym tomorrow to make up for all this¡­ although I reckon bleeding lava burned a few calories?¡±


    I shrugged. Sounded¡­ reasonable, from what I knew - which wasn¡¯t that much.


    [You still look as dazzling as the day I first met you.]


    ¡°Liar, you hated my annoying ass.¡± She stepped over and drew me in for a hug, giving me a kiss near the temple. ¡°What did you have planned for your rest days? I¡¯m sure you hate sitting idle.¡±


    [Probably go see either Wren or Belle and start fixing them.]


    ¡°Yeah? Well, as long as you remember who holds the spoon in this relationship, then I trust whatever you decide.¡± She ran her fingers through the back of my hair. ¡°I¡¯m going to get ready for bed, you coming up for snuggles?¡±


    [I¡¯ll be up in a minute. Just want to have a little more dour introspection before you smother me with affection.]


    ¡°As long as it¡¯s not about¡­ we kinda fucked around and found out yesterday.¡±


    [This morning as well.]


    She exhaled. ¡°I¡¯m being serious. You pushed me into losing control and I almost killed you. We¡¯re better for it, but I haven¡¯t just let all the guilt go yet.¡±


    [It will take time. We all put ourselves at risk for the gamble that the status quo would change. It did, but it could have easily have gone a lot worse. The best thing we can do is appreciate what we have rather than dwell on the what-ifs.]


    ¡°Eloquent motherfucker. How is it the mass murderer among us is the most well-adjusted?¡±


    [I wouldn¡¯t go that far. I guess I¡¯m just built-]


    ¡°Different, yeah, you keep saying that. Terrible catchphrase, the League will throw cold water on it. Don¡¯t be long, alright?¡±


    I nodded as she reluctantly withdrew herself from me and worked her way to the bedroom. Our bedroom, apparently. Still wasn¡¯t sure how I¡¯d wrangled that. Scouring the kill-room of all my prior misery this afternoon had been somewhat cathartic. But also¡­ uncomfortable.


    For I now lived in the daylight.


    Shadows long discarded. Didn¡¯t need them. Pitied them now, in a way. How I¡¯d eked out a meagre existence between them, doing what I was told. Even then, I was winning - or at least rising against the odds.


    Retrieved a fresh canister for the night from the freezer.


    Perhaps the dour thoughts could have a rest for now. Roxy was waiting for me, after all - and what potential glum thoughts would be more important that being close to her warmth? While the seas of our adventure were calm, I should enjoy the peace.


    Empty canister in the trash and I stepped over to the doorway, flicking the kitchen light off.


    For a moment, the dark washed over my gun-arm and made it seem invisible. Like it wasn¡¯t there anymore. I held my breath as vertigo washed over me.


    Head swam as I turned back around to face the darkened room. Silhouetted figures loomed in the shadows.


    Nine of them, because I was one of ten.


    Left hand gripped at my right shoulder, the limb missing. Panic and faux pain. The humming of unknown voices came from the others ahead of me. Vibrating silently through my imagination.


    Betrayal? Or was I the betrayer? Couldn''t make sense of it, like someone had turned the reverb up to max to blow my eardrums out.


    As my lungs started to scream for fresh air, the shadows grew taller. Stretched out vertically. The weapons they held wavering as if they were turning on me. Turning on me.


    I gasped.


    Took deep breaths as my wet eyes regarded the empty room. Gun-arm raised up, then lowered again. Still there.


    I straighten myself up as my heartbeat slowed. It turned out that living a life of brightness just made the shadows darker, rather than scour them away. Something my gloomy past was quick to remind me. My eyes went slowly across the room, before the lobby and stairs, straining to pick out anything untoward in the completely normal house.


    Yeah, those offered snuggles sounded pretty good right now.

 61 - Light of Dawn

    I had heard that no matter where you go, you could not escape your shadow. Wherever there was light, it would be there, attached to you.


    Indeed, as I stood amongst the grass of the front garden, my bare feet enjoying the texture of the verdant blades, I stared down at my own shadow. The morning sun behind me created this version of me that darkened the greens of the grass and cast a gloom among the flowers who really looked like they could do with a watering.


    My past was certainly dark. I couldn¡¯t deny that. An unknown mercenary of sorts who potentially hunted downs supers. A near-death and then cybernetic rebirth, the amnesia leading me to five years of killing criminals as a hitman under the mysterious ¡®Boss¡¯.


    It was a wonder I was allowed any kind of light in my life. Seemed unfair, almost. For all my sins and this dark shadow following me, I had clawed my way out to something worthwhile. Often, the undeserving got ahead in life.


    I should just ride out the wave until karma came and found me.


    My cybernetic arm rose up, and the long-barreled shotgun that existed in place of my right forearm scratched at the side of my head just above the permanently affixed gasmask. The plain gray t-shirt and black compression shorts were a more casual look than I was used to.


    But I was recovering.


    Turned my head to see the front door open. Out stepped my assailant - the one who had ruptured most of my organs and turned my ribs into splinters. A good six feet tall and stacked full of natural muscle, the superhero Rockslide would have been tough enough to handle even if it weren¡¯t for her strength powers.


    Now that she had also gotten the taste of the potential volcano powers that had been lying dormant within her, the normally amber tone to her eyes had become a shifting inferno that was almost as bright as the short red hair atop her head. Foregoing her signature orange and silver sleeveless super suit, she was instead in dark gym wear.


    ¡°Morning, Dubs.¡± She smiled as she stepped over to me. ¡°You doing okay? Thinking about the shadow-people dream again?¡±


    I shifted my head from side to side in response, as she put her arm around my waist. It was less of a dream and more of a psychotic break. Could have been something that my tired mind just made up, but seeing the nine figures representing my old squad had been chilling. The old life slowly slithering back into my conscious thoughts whether I wanted it to or not.


    [No, I was considering doing some gardening while I recover.]


    ¡°Liar.¡± The super gave me a brief squeeze. ¡°I don¡¯t know whether it was because of how fucked things have been, or just because you were there beside me, but I slept really well last night.¡±


    [Honestly? So did I, despite it being such an unusual occurrence.]


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a long-term thing.¡± Roxy pulled me closer to kiss the side of my face. ¡°If you want, of course. I¡¯m not sure what your expectations of dating life really are.¡±


    [As long as I get to spend time with you, I am content.]


    She sighed and put her hands on her hips. ¡°Such a silver tongue, you could get work as a...¡± her sentence trailed off as we both turned to look at the house.


    Door opened again and our odd third wheel stepped out. Roxy¡¯s near-adopted sister and my future sidekick, the technician was as much an ambitious prodigy with cybernetics and related fields as she was overtly inappropriate toward me. A petite and slight frame, dark skin, and dusty-gray hair down to her neck. Green light emanated from her cybernetic eyes as she yawned. The light blue nightie and rabbit slippers were unlike anything I¡¯d ever seen her in - which was usually slate gray overalls or dungarees to suit her job.


    ¡°Everything okay, hun?¡± Roxy tilted her head. ¡°You¡¯re not even dressed yet.¡±


    Clara took a step into the garden, before sitting down on the edge of the wooden porch. ¡°Tired. Long couple of days.¡±


    The super gave me a glum look before going over to the techie. Stood to reason she would be exhausted still. She had been the one who put me back together again. The solo surgery to remove my broken ribs and replace with a metallic version had to have been completely draining. Adding in the excitement over being accepted to the institute of the most prolific cybernetics expert had also been a lot for her to take in.


    ¡°You little sausage.¡± Roxy put her hand on her head. ¡°Why are you dressed up like this, though? Reminds me of the slumber parties we used to have at the League school.¡±


    ¡°I thought it would get me extra sympathy points.¡± Clara looked up at the super and pouted.


    ¡°Dork. You¡¯re allowed to have an off day, you know. You¡¯ve earned it.¡± She turned her head back to me. ¡°I¡¯m putting you both in charge of each other once this one has gotten dressed properly. I need to spend some time in the gym this morning. Anything freaky or dangerous and I¡¯ll¡­ be mad.¡±


    Not exactly the threat I had been expecting, but given that her rising anger could potentially cause her to set on fire and drip lava, I wasn¡¯t about to rock that boat. As the techie groaned and stood, Roxy blew me a kiss.


    Without knowing the conventual means of responding via puckered lips, I just gave her a thumbs up with my left hand in return. She furrowed her brow as she led Clara inside, but her confused smile was good enough for me.


    I turned my attention back to the¡­ flowers. Perhaps I would do the gardening this morning. There was bound to be a watering can somewhere around here. Rather than go look, I sighed and looked out toward the surrounding wastelands, turning a half circle as part of the view was blocked off by the new workshop buildings, and then to the far left was the city of Goldarch in the distance.


    Chamber on my gun-arm open and closed, and I pumped the grip back and forth with my mind. Synapse control was nice enough, but I wondered why the choice had been to give me a pump-action shotgun rather than something semi or auto. Then again, most of my cybernetic work didn¡¯t make much sense, and I wasn¡¯t on speaking terms with Boss to pick his brain about it.


    Hadn¡¯t even put my goggles back on or checked my STAR system for a couple of days. Part of me didn¡¯t want to let this slice of bliss evaporate with the real issues plaguing my existence bubbling back to the surface.


    I had a budding relationship with Roxy. Something as weird as it was normal. Clara was probably my best friend, something as weird as it was weird. It was easy to look past the baseless flirting to her true intentions of improving every facet of my life, especially when working toward becoming a superhero.


    Ah, yes. The paperwork was still sitting in the lounge awaiting my final signatures. There was something¡­ daunting about making that final step. To decide that I would step out into the public eye and dance to the League of Heroes tune for a while as a vigilante styled anti-hero. I had no doubts about my ability, of course.


    It was just difficult to put aside the fact that I had been a murderer for hire over the last five years.


    Still, if the people around me could look past that, maybe I shouldn¡¯t be so hard on myself.


    Turned my head back to the house as the door opened and Clara came back out, now in gray dungarees and white undershirt.


    [Care to sit down for a bit?]


    I gestured over to the two deckchairs.


    ¡°We need to get a swinging chair for the lawn, Gunquake.¡± She had a glum expression on her face, but nodded at the suggestion.


    [Roxy tell you about my¡­ vision?]


    Clara nodded and sat on one of the chairs, immediately sinking back to lie against the angled top end. ¡°Briefly. You saw figures you might have known and felt like either you had betrayed them or they were betraying you?¡±


    [Could also be that we were all betrayed. It wasn¡¯t clear; it was just the base feeling of it.]


    ¡°Hmm. Irksome, Gunquake. May I ask a favor?¡±


    [Of course, Clara.]


    The techie tilted her head toward me. ¡°Could you sit on the other side so that I could hold your gun-arm?¡±


    I nodded and did as such, picking the deckchair up to move onto her left side. With little ceremony, I sat and held out my shotgun, which she wrapped her arms around.


    ¡°My apologies. I feel very withdrawn and unlike myself.¡± Her green eyes looked back to me, but were half closed. ¡°It reminds me of how I felt¡­ the time my parents were killed.¡±


    [Then this is the least I could do.]


    She sighed, and her eyes fully closed. Slowly relaxed into the chair like she was going to nap, but her fingers occasionally tensed on the shapes of my gun. It must remind her of the superhero, Can-Can, who saved her that day. Not shocking that she liked to fall asleep against me on movie nights, either.


    While she was keen to not be seen as a little sister to me due to the amount of innuendo usually between us, it was hard not to settle into that protective role over her. Despite her intelligence and technical aptitude being the perfect foil to the more headstrong super, she also wasn¡¯t afraid to burn the candle at both ends and take risks. Winning at any cost was my shtick, so we were pressed from the same mold in that regard. Trusted her almost unconditionally.


    One of her eyes opened slightly. ¡°Are you busy thinking that I am like your little sister again?¡±


    [Did you install something in me to monitor my thoughts?]


    ¡°No, Gunquake. Wouldn¡¯t even if I could.¡± Her eye closed again, and she smiled. ¡°I think it would best to think of me as¡­ a parasite. I subsist on your growth and strength. Living vicariously through your exploits using my occasionally legal advancements.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    [Parasite has a kind of¡­ gross connotation to it, though.]


    ¡°We both know I don¡¯t shy away from gross, Gunquake. Perhaps symbiote would be more fitting, given our current predicament.¡± Clara¡¯s smile softened. ¡°I don¡¯t have the heart for our usual banter, but if you could be my comforter for a little longer, I would be grateful.¡±


    [I have no other plans that are any more important than this.]


    ¡°Good answer.¡± She sighed and relaxed even further.


    Somewhat bizarre to me that I had painted myself an adept and proficient killer - to the point of it being my near sole defining trait¡­ yet I also found it simple to make people happy. I¡¯d been rough around the edges on Roxy¡¯s arrival to my solitude out here on the city outskirts, but she had fallen for me. Clara wished to live like a little worm inside my brain. The speedster hero, Captain Snaps, had now come around to being a decent friend and member of Roxy¡¯s super group.


    Would it be so easy to win over the other two members?


    One seemed to care more about her businesses and wrangling her inept husband.


    The other wanted to run her odd ¡®Church¡¯ which several people had described to me as being a sex cult.


    Although I was starting to realize I was good at tasks that didn¡¯t only involve arriving with a fully loaded shotgun and a disregard for my own safety, I wasn¡¯t entirely sure where to start with either of them. Probably just turn up and do my best.


    [Would you be keen to shadow me when I go to see one of the supers tomorrow?]


    ¡°Tempting.¡± She opened her eyes. ¡°Roxy probably wouldn¡¯t like me going with you to see Belle and her¡­ Church.¡±


    [So that¡¯s the one you want to do then?]


    Clara gave me a wry grin. ¡°Naturally.¡±


    [Unfortunately I will not lie or keep it a secret from Roxy, however. You¡¯ll need to convince her.]


    ¡°I knew domestication would make you boring, Gunquake. I¡¯ve already done some preliminary investigations, and tomorrow the Church has an event on. A couple¡¯s event.¡±


    [Hmm. It would not be a good idea for Roxy to be seen attending¡­ anything like that. Perhaps Wren would be a better choice for now.]


    ¡°She is booked out for meetings for the next week.¡±


    [We can¡¯t just turn up and request some time?]


    ¡°Oh, Gunquake. You make it sound so horrible that we can¡¯t go to a sex cult¡¯s schmoozing event as a faux couple to dig up dirt on the shady organization pretending to be something religious. All in the hopes our support super will see the error of her ways and make more effort to be a better team player.¡±


    [There are so many things that can go wrong with that scenario.]


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk to Rockslide later. I understand that wanting to involve her in decision making is more because we are acting as a team now. Not because of what you may or may not get up to behind closed doors.¡±


    I rolled my eyes and looked out over at the workshop. She was right, of course. That was exactly why I wanted the super involved in the decision-making process. I seemed to get into trouble when left to my own devices, and I was soon to have not only the League watching my every step, but the reputation of our super group on my shoulders - so I wanted everything to be aboveboard.


    Well, most things.


    The League had already been watching me for a while. Given that Clara had not found the purported anti-tech aura that Boss had assured me I had¡­ either the mysterious figure himself had been scrubbing my records, or the League had the full picture of what exactly I¡¯d been up to the last five years. I wasn¡¯t sure which answer was more uncomfortable.


    [You don¡¯t have to be directly present, either. As my sidekick, I assume you¡¯ll mostly be in the van, or a remote location, rather than directly in danger.]


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t do to have me injured, would it, Gunquake? How would you repair a shattered ribcage?¡± She tapped my arm and released her grip on it. ¡°Even the van might be too close for comfort in some instances.¡±


    I brought my arm back over to my side and looked out to the city. Seemed so calm from this distance, despite the true size of it. Hard to believe there were dangerous criminals and villains plotting away that needed my boot down their throat.


    [You intend to build up some manner of command center here?]


    ¡°I intend many things.¡± Clara swung around and sat up on the edge of her chair, head tilted back to me. ¡°But there are only so many credits or hours we can grasp at with our eager paws, Gunquake. Our current focus is on assembling the team and getting your superhero license.¡±


    [Sometimes you are too sensible, Clara. Got anything danger-adjacent to lighten the mood?]


    ¡°You flirt with malady. Come to the workshop and I¡¯ll show you something you won¡¯t soon forget.¡± With a coy smile, she stood up and gestured toward the single story off-white building.


    There we go. Now she sounded much more like herself. I followed her through into the larger side of the workshop, the first time since they had moved everything into it yesterday.


    Far left side was stacked with cases and boxes, an impromptu storage area making what use of the space we currently had. My old workbench was there, along with the chair and other useful attachments they¡¯d procured from my prior home. Some amount of space had been left on the direct left - possibly for more machinery.


    Clara ran her hand along the surface of the work surface before turning and sitting atop it. ¡°I have always respected the care shown for where you do your work. Shows you are meticulous and know how to treat the things that make your life easier.¡± She tilted her head to the side.


    [A malfunctioning tool gets me killed.]


    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯ve ordered a better maintenance kit. While the current one services your weapon just fine, I believe there are further efficiencies we can make, Gunquake.¡±


    [Would be nice to make me semi-auto.]


    ¡°I¡¯m too tired to make a joke about that.¡± She gestured with her hand to the stored cases. ¡°Grab me case K-3 if you please. I would get it myself, but it would involve me bending over in front of you, and that would just be inappropriate.¡±


    I sighed and did as she asked. Made a show of bending over myself to retrieve the case, which elicited a rare grin from the techie. She could do with the levity after what she¡¯d been through. She slipped herself down from the workbench so that I could place the black case onto the surface.


    ¡°These aren¡¯t anything special, but you might get a kick out of them.¡±


    Her fingers popped the clasps, and she lifted the lid. Inside, packed in cut-out grooves of soft foam were an array of metal shapes. Each was somewhat cylindrical and the rough size required to fit into my gun chamber.


    [You know I¡¯m supposed to be doing less war crimes now?]


    ¡°Boring.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Officially you¡¯ll be using Nerve shot most of the time, but I see no reason why your hobby can¡¯t be slightly-illegal experimentation. With me.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at her. There was a streak of violence within her that skirted past the usual norms when it came to what was reasonable and acceptable. Possibly part of her dissociation in seeing her parents killed, or her affinity for the more mechanical side of things.


    Tilted my head and thumbed through the provided metallic objects.


    One was spiraled like a drill head. Another a hollow tube, the front end sharpened. Third was textured like a mallet. I picked up the next one to look at the odd cuts on the sides.


    [Are these whistle holes?]


    ¡°Correct, Gunquake. I don¡¯t believe any of these would be effective ammunition, but it was an iterative exercise to get my mind comprehending what could work. Your V-Force weapon can fire figuratively anything, so it seems artistically irresponsible to use normal shotgun shells most of the time.¡±


    [Again, I¡¯m not supposed to be killing anymore.]


    Clara wrinkled up her nose. ¡°We both know how likely that is, Gunquake. If the League has you up against any mutant threat from the wastes, you have free rein.¡±


    [Even heroes get to kill the denizens of the wastes?]


    She nodded. ¡°They are considered enemies of the city. Any signs of aggression are dealt with zero tolerance - but that doesn¡¯t mean you can just go cull them. There are peaceful groups, of course, and they know well enough to stay clear of the major cities.¡±


    Despite living on the border between Goldarch and the wastelands proper, I hadn¡¯t really picked up on much mutant lore. Other than a handful of one-sided run-ins, we¡¯d kept out of each other¡¯s ways. In saying that, my first sidekick trial was to stop a cultist group bringing an abomination to the city.


    I wondered how common that was. If I could spend my superhero days murdering my way through enemies of the state, that wouldn¡¯t be so bad. As much as I needed to dance to the League¡¯s tune, they would also want to use me to my strengths.


    ¡°This one was my favorite.¡± The techie picked the last metal rod from the box. Holding it in one hand, she pressed at the bottom with the other. At the top of the intended shot, the metal split and spread out in an intricate pattern - eventually resembling the design of a rose-like flower.


    [Violence aside, that is an impressive amount of engineering work.]


    ¡°Thank you. Oh, do you think you could get Van Michaels to help with my moving when the time comes?¡± She allowed the flower to sink back into the inert form and placed it back in the case.


    [I¡¯m sure he could be convinced. You¡¯re certain you¡¯ll be moving in, then?]


    Clara nodded and closed the full case up. ¡°I¡¯m certain there will be teething issues. The long-term plan would be for me to have my own place here as well, but Rockslide is a softie and will let me roost in the spare room as long as I require.¡±


    [How are you intending to manage your time between League duties, your education, and being inside my every thought?]


    ¡°That is, in part, why I am moving here, Gunquake.¡± She lifted the case to me to return to the storage. ¡°Otherwise I would not get to see you most of the time, which is unacceptable.¡±


    [Flattering, but that doesn¡¯t answer my question.]


    I moved back over to the wall of crates, only briefly wondering what other horrors could be hiding away here. Wouldn¡¯t be long before we required a proper warehouse, but having her creativity on the doorstep would be worth it in the long run.


    ¡°My tutelage counts as part of my League work, so it won¡¯t be entirely two full-times jobs. It will be tiring and I will have to commute a lot, but this is what needs to be done. Or is the mighty Gunquake the only one who is allowed to burn the candle from both ends?¡±


    With a sigh that rattled through my re-breather filters, I crossed my arms in response to her indignant tone.


    [Fine. But I expect you to be honest in regards to your mental and physical health during this process and take time off when required. Otherwise I will force you to.]


    ¡°Gunquake.¡± She smiled. ¡°You¡¯ll make me blush. That is an acceptable deal - after all, a sick symbiote would poison your mind and make you weak. Then I''d be a parasite.¡±


    Not quite how I was thinking, but the gist of it was the same. With both of us crumbling, that would be even worse. If I was going to not only be a tech superhero, but also live up to the lofty heights I aspired to, then I would need her backing. Healthy and competent. Out of the group that I¡¯d tried to bend to my will, she had been the least effort.


    Just needed some manner of comfort from my mechanic side, and the approval and encouragement of the rest of me to be her best and she had slid into the necessary position I needed her in with ease. Oh, now she was even affecting my thoughts. Perhaps she was inside my brain.


    [Have you eaten yet?]


    ¡°I could absolutely destroy a slice of plain toast, Gunquake.¡± She nodded towards the house. ¡°Public Defender order is arriving later, mostly just a replacement of all the things destroyed by Rockslide.¡±


    [Mostly?]


    We stepped back out into the morning sunshine and made our way to the house.


    ¡°I felt the pistol wasn¡¯t really fitting, or effective. Even against soft targets, there would be little need to use such a small caliber firearm. If your shotgun was ever damaged or ineffective, then you¡¯d need a better tool for getting out of the situation.¡±


    [Like maybe a second shotgun?]


    ¡°An amusing thought, but no.¡± She raised an eyebrow as we went through the front door and turning into the kitchen. ¡°I was considering a custom grappling gun.¡±


    I grunted. We had considered something like that before, but given that I was short on hands, it didn¡¯t seem like an effective way of getting around. If only I could just leap about like Roxy, or even fly. I¡¯d have to do some research on other tech heroes and what they got away with.


    [Custom how?]


    ¡°Oh.¡± She placed a slice of bread in the toaster. ¡°Instead of being for hooking onto ledges of buildings and the like, I would change the head of of it to pierce or grab onto people.¡±


    [I¡­ see.]


    ¡°Biomechanically, using a hand-held method would be inefficient¡­ so it¡¯s still on the drawing board for now.¡±


    [Probably a back-mounted automated winch with the cable fed down through my gauntlet to the custom head propulsion unit would work reasonably well.]


    Clara stared at me blankly, silence filling the room for a good handful of seconds before her toast popped up.


    ¡°Perhaps, Gunquake. I am not keen on making you too bulky, but I admire the enthusiasm.¡± She plucked her food out onto a plate. ¡°This leads tangentially to the thing I mentioned I was going to show you.¡±


    I sat down on one of the stools, an eyebrow raised.


    [Oh? The case of metal death wasn¡¯t the main focus?]


    ¡°No.¡± The techie came and sat on the adjacent stool. ¡°I was trying to buy time, as I wasn¡¯t sure how to bring this up to you.¡±


    With a nod, I started getting a sinking feeling about what this was leading to. As she stared at me patiently, I gestured for her to continue.


    ¡°When considering replacements for your pistol, I had a look through what we had in storage, and came across the sealed bag of items from the Agent who tried to kill you.¡±


    [The man pretending to be a World Government employee.]


    She nodded and took a bite of toast, hesitating slightly. ¡°Yes. There¡¯s something¡­ odd about his pistol, Gunquake.¡±


    [Odd how?]


    The techie swallowed and sat silent for a few seconds, the green light of her eyes trying to read my face.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯d best come see. You might understand it more than I do.¡±

 62 - Heat Test

    My life was full of mysteries. Staring at the sink while Clara retrieved the evidence bag, I found myself wondering how this house that had been air-dropped into position had running water or a basement. It wasn¡¯t a thread I was keen on tugging on, just in case it unraveled a core part of my existence and this odd facade I was living turned out to be just that. A bad dream.


    Or a rather good dream, depending on who had their sights on me at the time.


    The techie stepped back into the house and I followed her into the lounge where we had agreed to go over the¡­ odd weapon. Clear bag that had the few personal items we had taken off of the would-be assassin that had appeared. A brief glance at them hadn¡¯t turned up anything of note - after all, if they were an Agent sent by Boss then they wouldn¡¯t be carrying anything more than the minimum necessary to kill me.


    Clara sat down on the couch beside me and leaned forward to place the bag on the coffee table. ¡°You mentioned that you knew he wasn¡¯t a World Government agent based on a few factors. One of which was the pistol wasn¡¯t their standard issue.¡±


    I nodded slowly as she removed the firearm from the bag. Was probably a bad idea to do this inside the house, but it had started now and I was too hesitant to rock the boat until I knew exactly what the supposed issue with the gun was.


    [Yes, although I don¡¯t know why I knew that. I couldn¡¯t even tell you what the standard issue pistol is.]


    ¡°You just knew it wasn¡¯t this, Gunquake?¡± Clara held it up.


    [Correct.]


    She placed it down on her lap and put a finger to the side of her temple. Her right eye flickered from green to a neutral white and increased in luminosity to illuminate the weapon.


    [Somehow I am surprised you are able to do that.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± She didn¡¯t move her head, so as to not blind me. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t be A-Grade cybernetics without a good deal of versatility. Different colors, brightness levels, even some minor magnification. Makes them perfect for the finer detail work.¡±


    [Green is your favorite color, though?]


    ¡°Rockslide said I looked cute with green lights, back when I first received them and was insecure.¡± Her finger tapped on the edge of the weapon. ¡°Let¡¯s focus on the task now, Gunquake.¡±


    I nodded and allowed her to continue.


    ¡°First thing I noticed was the serial. It is not uncommon for the number to have been scratched off, especially for those in the line of work that involves murder.¡± Her finger moved across part of the gun just beneath the slide. ¡°However, somebody has attempted to engrave their own serial number in.¡±


    My eyes narrowed as I looked at the rough surface her finger rolled along. The hazy metal scuffed up from removing the original serial had another sequence of numbers scratched in. Amateur and shoddy work.


    [How strange. Are we able to trace this new number?]


    ¡°To a degree. It is the type of number that is designated to World Government firearms.¡±


    I furrowed my brow. That was enough of an oddity that it had me feeling itchy.


    [A gun that has been made to look like a Gov weapon, but only by serial, and it doesn¡¯t even look genuine?]


    ¡°Boggles the mind, doesn¡¯t it, Gunquake? First thoughts?¡±


    The idea of putting a fake serial number on a gun was one thing, but to specifically make it point to¡­ whose eyes was it truly for? Any real World Government official would clock that it wasn¡¯t correct even if the number replacement had been flawless. Even the city police wouldn¡¯t be fooled by the terrible attempt. So¡­ it was meant to be found this way.


    [A normal weapon with the thinnest veneers of being a part of the World Gov. I believe it¡¯s meant to represent something else. Some other significance that I am yet to understand.]


    ¡°It may well be.¡± She turned the weapon to point away from her, tilting the number at a right angle. ¡°Second thing, Gunquake, is the scales on the grip.¡±


    I leaned a little closer. They had been damaged, the gridwork of interlocked diamonds scratched and¡­


    [That is a map.]


    Clara tapped the side of her head to reset her right eye back to the usual green. Before she focused back on me, I was up off the couch.


    Boots took me into the lobby and then out of the front, a good dozen feet across the lawn, before I stopped and glared over towards my house. As if the alleged assassin would be standing back there with a coy grin on his face, now that I had picked up on the clue.


    The techie followed me out, the weapon now back in the bag.


    ¡°What is it, Gunquake? You could read it?¡±


    [Hmm? Yes, almost. There is a base familiarity from deep in my mind. Although, I will need to study it to understand fully where it is pointing to.]


    She put a hand up over her eyes to peer out at the city as I was. ¡°Didn¡¯t have a treasure hunt on the cards for today, Gunquake. What do you think is buried at the X?¡±


    [Nothing good.]


    I took a deep breath as Clara went to place the evidence back away. She would have made a scan of the map, I was sure. But what did it mean? I had a feeling, but could barely stomach thinking it, let alone speaking it out loud.


    Someone was sending me a message.


    Normally, I would dismiss such a notion as being a little too egotistical. Could be the felled Agent;s own stash of something - nothing to do with me at all. The only reason why I was tying this circumstance to my own fate was the nature in which the map had been drawn out.


    In the same way that the handful of callsigns Roxy had been able to memorise was a cold knife into my subconscious memories, so too were the directions to¡­ somewhere. What would I find there? Death? Answers? Something worse than either?


    The ache in the back of my head was trying to tell me this was Boss¡¯s doing.


    Still didn¡¯t understand his motivations, so I was cautious about anything he was trying to lead me to. If he wanted to kill me off, then he would have sent a better assassin. Was he sour that I was no longer doing his dirty work? He could just be waiting for me to get settled in as a hero with all these new friends before pulling the rug out from under me and kicking me while I was down. Third option was that I was doing exactly what he wanted, and he intended to help me along this path.


    For some reason, that was the least palatable option.


    That I had been used as nothing but a tool to kill off criminals for money only so that he could send me away to have a happy ending once I grew too big for the box he was keen to keep me in¡­


    I sighed and shook out my head. One problem at a time.


    Clara stepped back out of the workshop and put her hands on her hips. ¡°Well, Gunquake. Now that I¡¯ve introduced further intrigue to your complicated life, what do you want to do with me while Rockslide is still distracted?¡±


    [You want to sit and brainstorm more reprehensible ammunition types that would get us arrested if we were caught using them?]


    She gasped. ¡°Like an arrow through my heart, Gunquake. Best be careful, otherwise you¡¯ll give me further validation to off Rockslide early so I can steal you.¡± The techie took another couple of steps before stopping and looking at the house. ¡°If she is listening, however, that is clearly a joke.¡±


    [Is it not a joke even if she wasn¡¯t listening?]


    ¡°Who knows anymore?¡± She sighed and went over to the deckchair. ¡°I need to find a slightly more guilt-free way of comforting myself.¡±


    [Has Roxy mentioned she isn¡¯t a fan?]


    ¡°Far from it, Gunquake. We could probably get away with a lot before she stepped in, but it¡¯s not a long-term solution. One day you both might be off somewhere raising children and I¡¯ll be¡­ well, not in the position to cradle your arm whenever I required it.¡±


    She pulled a face and looked down at the grass. Although she didn¡¯t seem to seek romance or love, there was still a base need for companionship. If even I could find the sort of relationship I needed in life, I didn¡¯t doubt she would be able to - but it clearly seemed like a sore spot for her at present.


    [That is a lot of assumptions you¡¯re jumping to, Clara. Plus, I¡¯m not sure if I can even¡­ procreate, even if I wished to.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± Her eyes came back up to me. ¡°Did you want me to check? Uh, medically, I mean. With scientific tests.¡±


    [Although I appreciate the clarification, no - not at this stage. Let¡¯s talk about ammunition instead. For my gun. Shotgun.]


    We maintained neutral eye contact for a brief few seconds before she smiled.


    It would have been nice if I could promise her that things could always be this way. That I¡¯d have my courtship with Roxy and the platonic care for the techie for as long as they both needed me - or for however long I lived. Life didn¡¯t work that way, and I¡¯m sure she knew that as well, even if I tried to reassure her that we could eat our cake and have it too.


    Sometimes the smile was enough.


    We discussed various things that we could use the V-Force propulsion drive to fire. Everything from hotdogs to rods of radioactive material. Plenty of ideas that wouldn¡¯t work at all, and even more than would get us on certain lists with the World Government - if the League didn¡¯t arrest us first. Time rolled around as the techie talked animatedly, a near constant stream of unending thoughts about how else I could maim and debilitate all who opposed me.


    ¡°If we could imbue the coin stack with electromagnetism, then it would also act as a tazer field, perhaps. Not just a cloud of sharpened discs.¡± Her brow furrowed as she imagined how she could achieve this.


    [More importantly, as most things will die to any solid matter we stick in my shotgun, how about how to deal with heroes?]This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    ¡°Heroes, Gunquake?¡± Clara tilted her head.


    [Villains, then. People with superpowers.]


    She nodded slowly. A slip of my non-existent tongue, but she already knew what I used to be. I wasn¡¯t gearing up to kill my soon-to-be colleagues, however¡­ it would be amateur to not have answers to any potential ability that might stand against me.


    ¡°Most powered individuals would struggle against repeated Foam shots. Once you had them pinned or restrained, then I¡¯m sure you could figure out the rest.¡± Clara bit her lip and wrinkled up her nose in thought. ¡°To get to that stage, however, you would need additional defenses more than offensive solutions, Gunquake.¡±


    [A way to nullify or resist their strengths to give me the opportunity to pin them?]


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    [Do you have an issue if the first powers we seek to develop counters for are the ones our super group has?]


    Her eyebrows raised, and her eyes looked off to the side in thought. Eventually, she shook her head and gave me a wry smile. ¡°Contingencies are important, Gunquake. While others might find it suspicious, I trust you completely.¡±


    I held out my left hand.


    [To symbiosis, then.]


    She grasped it, and we shook. ¡°Symbiosis,¡± she agreed, with a smile.


    ¡°Aha, knew I couldn¡¯t leave you both alone for too long.¡± Roxy stepped out of the house, glistening with either sweat or water she had used to cool off. ¡°Hasn¡¯t been an hour and you¡¯re already holding hands.¡±


    The smile on her face made it clear she wasn¡¯t being serious. If I didn¡¯t know any better, then she had left us to our own devices with the assumption that I would cheer up the techie - which I had.


    ¡°It¡¯s been almost two hours, Rockslide.¡± Clara rolled her eyes and relinquished from our shake. ¡°We were just discussing ways in which to kill you.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± The super stopped over by our deckchairs, giving the horizon a brief look before raising an eyebrow to us. ¡°Well, Dubs already knows my weak points to land critical hits, so¡­¡±


    ¡°Ugh. It is remarkably less amusing when you do it.¡± The techie sunk into her chair.


    [Even worse, I¡¯m afraid we have stumbled into more mystery.]


    Roxy scowled at me. ¡°Fuck off. As if you aren¡¯t enough of an enigma already. What is it now?¡±


    [It is possible I have been left a message, at an undisclosed location.]


    ¡°A treasure hunt,¡± Clara confirmed. ¡°Although it might also just be an assassin¡¯s stash of dirty mags, for all we know.¡±


    ¡°Typical.¡± The super shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll not be disappointed if that was the case, gremlin. Alright, I¡¯m in - can¡¯t let you two have all the fun.¡±


    [I¡¯m not sure ¡®fun¡¯ encompasses the process. There is likely to be an element of danger to retrieving the information, and I don¡¯t feel adept in just casual clothing.]


    ¡°Public Defender order might not be here till dusk.¡± Clara tilted her head. ¡°Assuming you are physically up for it. Lift up your shirt, Gunquake.¡±


    With a shrug, I stood and did as the doctor ordered. Using my left hand, I pulled the t-shirt up and over my arm, but didn¡¯t commit to removing it fully. The techie also stood up and stepped a little closer. Her brow furrowed as she ran a finger down the long scar down my torso, as I ignored the narrowed eyes from the super.


    Clara then placed her open hand on the darkened hand-print scar on my chest, her own palm much too small and slender to fit properly. ¡°Reminds me of a bio-security scanner,¡± she mused.


    [Would be less amusing if it caused my new metallic chest to burst open.]


    ¡°Hmm?¡± She looked up at me and withdrew her hand. ¡°Oh, it does have that capacity.¡±


    Roxy huffed off at the side, her arms crossed. ¡°So you¡¯re saying you have a kill-switch for Dubs now?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m also the least likely person in the world to active it with malicious intent.¡± The techie stuck her tongue out at the super. ¡°It is solely for if we have to perform emergency organ surgery, or if you play a little too rough and buckle his rib cage.¡±


    ¡°Oh, speaking of that.¡± The super turned to me and clicked her fingers. ¡°Did you wanna blast me out here, Dubs?¡±


    [Looking to get hot?]


    ¡°Practically dripping, if possible.¡±


    ¡°Gross.¡± Clara scowled at us both. ¡°I¡¯ll go get your drum-mag, Gunquake. Nerve shot only?¡±


    Roxy grinned. ¡°Please. Not so nice when the tables turn, is it?¡±


    The techie continued to grumble as she went over the small side of the workshop, where I supposed they put all my magazines and offensive weaponry. Felt strange not really being armed as of late. Not that I couldn¡¯t scoop up whatever was closest to fill in my barrel - even loose gravel could¡­


    I stopped that train of thought as Roxy stepped up in front of me and helped pull my shirt back down. There was still fire in her eyes, as if the blazing inferno was waiting and eager to burst out.


    She gave me a soft smile as her hands held my waist. ¡°I realize it¡¯s putting a lot of pressure on you to be the one who helps me with this, so I won¡¯t hold it against you if you tap out. The League does have people for this sort of thing.¡±


    [You have put your trust in me, so I won¡¯t let you down.]


    ¡°Thinking you can win everything will get you into trouble, Dubs.¡±


    I put my hand up to the side of her face.


    [A little too late for that, isn¡¯t it?]


    The super pulled me closer and rested her forehead on my shoulder. Although it was unlikely that the League work eventually assigned to me would be potentially fatal, with my past itching to resurface, it was only a matter of time before I was up against the odds once more. Roxy hated it, but understood the inevitability.


    Clara stepped back out of the workshop, drum and a ten-mag in her hand, and a sour expression on her face. ¡°Thought you might want something else in the selectloader, just in case you are successful and the tyrant is uncontrollable.¡±


    Roxy moved back away. ¡°Tyrant? That¡¯s a new one.¡±


    The techie pushed in the drum-mag for me and then palmed out a handful of loose shells to put into the mech on the side of my weapon. All the while having a narrowed glare at the super.


    [The expanding water shells?]


    ¡°Correct, Gunquake. We don¡¯t have much else that could deal with molten lava, but this might cool her off.¡±


    Seemed like that was as good as we were going to get. Roxy went down near to the hollow shell of my kill-room and stretched her arms and shoulders out. I followed suit, standing a good twenty-five feet away from her.


    [So what is your actual plan here, if I may ask?]


    ¡°I was just thinking¡­¡± She pulled a face. ¡°If you shoot me and I feel like I¡¯m injured, I might get angry like I did during our duel.¡±


    [It wasn¡¯t just the injury though, was it?]


    ¡°No. It was the insecurities about my lack of career progression and frustration over you not giving up and accepting my feelings for you.¡± The super put her hands on her hips.


    I had a brief glance over to Clara, who was now sitting on the deckchair and looking invested in Roxy¡¯s progress. Or perhaps just amused that I was about to shoot her sister. Somehow, she had also acquired a fire extinguisher, which lay on the grass by her feet.


    [But you are now over those things, and aren¡¯t likely to be enraged by them.]


    ¡°Yeah, I guess. I mean just based on-¡±


    I didn¡¯t let her finish, instead my shotgun blew the first Nerve shot into her left leg.


    ¡°Ah! Motherfucker. A warning would have been nice.¡± She scowled at me as the empty cartridge ejected out onto the warm gravel.


    With a shrug, I tilted my head as the techie came walking over. In her hand, she had a covered shell. Turned it around while it was shielded from the super¡¯s view so that I could see what was written on it. A suggestion that I found intriguing, and I gave her a nod of acceptance.


    Clara walked around me to place the new shell in my open chamber. Slowly, as she maintained eye contact with Roxy.


    ¡°What are you planning now?¡± Her ire followed the techie as she returned to the deckchair. ¡°Nothing that¡¯s going to-¡±


    I fired into her leg again.


    ¡°Asshole.¡± Her fists balled up, and she looked down at her leg - which appeared injured in her mind due to the psychoactive agents withing the Nerve shot, but hadn¡¯t changed since the original shot.


    [Bloodletter shell. Anti-coagulant properties, so I suppose you have until you bleed out to activate your power.]


    Her burning eyes looked me all over, as if waiting for me to tell her that was just a joke. I stood statuesque and neutral, something that only increased her annoyance.


    ¡°Time is ticking.¡± Clara added.


    [You are about to get very angry. But I don¡¯t want your focus to be on myself or Clara. Even the pain and injury you must try to ignore. Your power is like a thread within your core, something you must find and take a firm hold of.]


    ¡°Like the ripcord of a chainsaw,¡± the techie once again assisted.


    Roxy nodded slowly, despite her brow still being furrowed. ¡°Understood. I have to search for the part of me the power belongs to and learn to-¡±


    Reflex blew through me and I emptied seven shots of Nerve into her in quick succession, as if my weapon was full auto. Just as my brain cooled down and the last shell sprung from the open chamber, the super growled out in pained anger.


    To me, it only looked as though she has some very minor cuts over her legs. Barely drew any blood. For Roxy, it probably looked as though the flesh had been blasted away. Judging by the look on her face, it was pretty dire.


    She stumbled forward a couple of steps.


    [Stand still.]


    ¡°Fuck you!¡± Her eyes were much wilder now, and she had started sweating. Knuckles white with how tight her hands were clasped.


    [You are not ignoring me or the pain. I will make this much worse for you if you cannot concentrate.]


    While part of her was trying to melt me with her angered glare, I did notice her body language shift slightly. Her brain thought that using her legs was near impossible, but she had to overcome that. She closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose.


    Shotgun went back up, and I shot her in the right arm.


    The super twitched and worked her jaw, but didn¡¯t react I any other way. Often, to find out who you really were inside, you had to break down the walls that you were used to. Tear off the wallpaper to see the state of the structure underneath. It was no coincidence that most of my growth in this cybernetic existence followed the times I almost died. If Roxy needs to find that core part of her long dormant, I would rid her of anything but that.


    Shot to her left arm, the chamber racked back and forth, and then I fired a second into her gut.


    She convulsed again, her arms starting to shake, but she continued to keep her eyes closed. Tried to stabilize herself against the injuries and imagined unstoppable blood loss.


    [If there is anyone you should be angry with, it is yourself.]


    Another shot to her left arm, and it sagged slightly.


    [So much potential and you settled for basic strength power. Don¡¯t you owe it to yourself to reach the pinnacle of your ability? Do you not deserve this?]


    Nerve shot to her legs, and then her right arm. Her whole body was shaking, her head lowered.


    Sweat ran down the side of my head now. Would have smiled if I were capable of it - but the look of excited apprehension on Clara¡¯s face would have to do.


    Shot to the legs, and she hissed through clenched teeth. Almost buckled again, but remained standing.


    [That is all I will do and say. While your blood runs dry, do not squander any more of your life.]


    Lowered my weapon. Making her any more pained or numb wouldn¡¯t help at this stage. Either she would pass out from the over-stimulation, or diminishing returns would have her brain better clued in to it only being a ruse. As a strength super, she had a lot higher resistance to the stuff compared to a normal person. It was enough to give her a false-barricade to guide the part of her seeking the answer.


    A wave of warmth washed over me.


    Selectloader pushed in the Water shot. Her arms started to glow red. Body stopped shaking so much. Her posture relaxed, and she slowly righted into a standing position.


    Roxy opened her eyes, and they were orbs of pure roiling inferno. Briefly, I was stunned, completely lost within them - as if I were atop the edge of a volcano and looking straight down into it. A natural beauty, yet completely deadly and destructive.


    Fists went up, and she bared her teeth, growling as the air around her super-heated and became wavy.


    With a burst of radiance, her head lit up in flickering flame. The red glow around her hands brightened to an amber - then yellow as lava started to sweat from her closed fists.


    Barely five long seconds passed before the super took a deep breath in and then exhaled loudly. The flame surrounding her head twisted and snuffed out, and the glowing lava cooled into dark rock, which promptly cracked to drop from her flexing hands.


    Blinking away some confusion from her eyes, she then looked back up at me.


    ¡°I did it!¡±


    Before I could reply, she had run across the hot ground and leaped into my grasp.


    [You certainly did. An activation method that doesn¡¯t involve pain or me annoying you?]


    She nodded and gave me a squeeze before remembering not to crush my metal ribcage. ¡°Think so. It¡¯s still¡­ baby steps? I figured knowing how to turn it off was smarter than pushing my ability to control it.¡±


    [I wholeheartedly agree.]


    After giving me a very warm kiss on the cheek, she then turned to scowl at the techie. ¡°Give me the antidote now, witch.¡±


    Clara rolled her eyes. ¡°It was a blank shell to give you some extra pressure. I wouldn¡¯t really cast such a hex on you, dear sister.¡±


    ¡°Well, it did help, I guess.¡± She shrugged and held up her arms. There was no visible damage from using her lava powers. Even her hands looked fine, other than being a little dusty. Her eyes were back to being rolling fire in the background, but there was no other evidence she had done the deed - aside from the residual heat radiating from her still.


    [The more you practice, the more natural it will feel, and you¡¯ll have more control over it.]


    ¡°Alright, Dubs. Thank you for your odd training methods, though.¡± She nudged me and grinned. ¡°I could really do with some ice-cream. Shall we have a little picnic to celebrate?¡±


    I nodded and watched her walk off back to the house, her mind made up before she had even asked. It seemed that activating those powers had also washed away the effects of the Nerve shot, which was interesting.


    Before I followed them in, I took a look around at our surroundings. There was the taste of violence in the air. I could sense it. Knowing that there was a splinter of something from the past out there waiting for me to run my careless hand over¡­


    Well, I would anyway, despite the threat of pain. Nothing important was given easily, and if someone had left a little cache or a clue to my prior life, it wouldn¡¯t be as simple as just driving up and receiving it. But I had to have it. Get everything out in the open and truly know what led me to being the man I was today.


    ¡°Good news, Gunquake.¡± Clara called from the porch as she held the door open, waiting for me. ¡°Your order is being delivered in the next hour.¡±


    Perfect. A picnic wasn''t something I could really participate in, but it looked as though my hunger would be satiated in short order.


    [Get me a copy of that map. It¡¯s time to plan our treasure hunt.]

 63 - Partially Spent

    It turned out that a picnic for us three wasn¡¯t close to anything normal. Despite once again insisting that she had a normal diet, Roxy sat on the blanket she had retrieved from the house and placed on the grass for us, eating ice-cream. Clara, as usual, had a toast sandwich - but to celebrate the occasion had toasted the outer parts, leaving the center part normal bread. I put a new canister in my neck and¡­ just sat.


    Which was fine, because this was the most content I had possibly ever felt. Ever a constant reminder of what I once was, my small shack was left abandoned and stripped of all the important parts. Just sitting there alone, not invited to current proceedings. I¡¯d taken a while to come out of my shell¡­ but even my personality had started to stretch out its wings. No doubt in part due to Clara reconnecting my super soldier synapse cables.


    I wasn¡¯t foolish enough to believe I just need the grease and dirt rubbed away to bloom into quite the social butterfly I had become. This overt part of me had been clouded over and neutered by¡­ well, the assumption was Boss. He rescued me from the brink of death when I had become of no value to my previous masters and fashioned me into a tool that he could use.


    Still, the odd juxtaposition remained. Impressive custom cybernetic work, paired with a basic gas mask to cover the place my lower face had been. An unknown weapon type that may have come from an old war robot. If the components had matched the skill of my surgeon, then I¡¯d be A-Rank worthy - I had no doubt about that.


    So it was with some sour grapes that I was thankful at this second chance at life.


    Despite my flaws and shortcomings, I had an attractive and strong girlfriend brimming to become a volcano and claim her own A-Rank. A mechanical gremlin that would do literally anything to improve my function and effectiveness, at the small cost of my personal privacy. I now had known contacts that had real names rather than ominous and vague titles, and gradual friendships.


    Which is why whatever sat at the end of this treasure hunt had me on edge. Something that could threaten what I was building up.


    Of course, it could be something completely unrelated to me - or even a boon to my current plans in life. I was just being a grouch because I felt like I had been sitting too idle and letting the unknowns in my life build up the courage ready to figuratively stab me.


    Clara sat back down on the blanket and handed me a print-out of the map from the pistol grip. Roxy didn¡¯t even bother trying to look over my shoulder to read it - and was instead lying down behind me with her eyes closed.


    [Getting in a quick nap before the turmoil?]


    ¡°Nah.¡± She sighed, but remained as she was. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­ seeing if that ripcord is still there. Don¡¯t want to lose it again so soon.¡±


    She hadn¡¯t been keen to test out her powers just yet, which was slightly surprising given the joy and energy she had toward activating them. I imagined she was spacing it out, so that she maintained control. Last time she went all out, it took a building collapsing around us for her to reevaluate what she was doing - and since I still bore the scar of that fight, I was sure she didn¡¯t want to repeat that mistake and injure me again. Or worse.


    ¡°I ran the map against some databases to see if there was some common key to it, but no dice, Gunquake.¡±


    That was to be expected. I gave her a nod of thanks anyway, for at least attempting to save me some brainpower.


    [Did you ever steal away a copy of the League¡¯s database of heroes?]


    ¡°I have, yes. We just need to get a proper computer set up in the workshop. Command center in progress, Gunquake.¡±


    Roxy shuffled. ¡°I¡¯m going to pretend that I didn¡¯t hear that,¡± she murmured.


    [If you need any funds towards that, let me know.]


    Clara bit her lip. ¡°In relation to that, Gunquake. Now that I have accepted my position with Dr Jarl, they will require the first year¡¯s deposit.¡±


    [Just the first year? You can make the transfer then, I trust you.]


    ¡°As you wish.¡± She smiled and allowed me to focus on the map.


    That wasn¡¯t so bad - I had been anticipating that they¡¯d need to take both years at once. If I pushed that spare million into a place I could spend it, then I was sure I could make it back in the time between now and when Clara would need to pay for the second year. Even if I had to knock over a few banks, I¡¯d make sure of it.


    Would need to talk to Roxy about the facial reconstruction after my mind was clearer.


    I blinked my eyes as I adjusted the held page. Gray lines criss-crossed, but had been adjusted or worn off. There were small shapes made to represent either landmarks or perhaps signals, but it hadn¡¯t quite clicked in my mind.


    [Difficult without a reference to an actual map. This could be anywhere in the world.]


    ¡°I¡¯ll get your goggles, Gunquake.¡± Clara hopped up to her feet and made her way over to the workshop.


    Once I found a point of reference, then things might click a little better. While it could be anywhere, I had a suspicion that it was somewhere in the Goldarch area. Anything further afield and it wouldn¡¯t be worth the effort - I had neither the time nor the stomach to travel long distance to any of the other nearby cities.


    ¡°Hey, Dubs?¡±


    I turned my head back to look at the super, who now had her eyes open.


    ¡°I just wanted you to know, whatever turns up there... I¡¯m with you all the way. Good or bad.¡±


    [Thank you, Roxy.]


    She smiled and pressed her foot up against my lower back, just so we had that physical contact. ¡°Still can¡¯t believe I came home and just stripped off in front of you. Wasn¡¯t really like me.¡±


    [You¡¯ve certainly been less shy around me since our duel.]


    ¡°Part of it is probably because of what happened after the bath.¡± She wiggled an eyebrow at me. ¡°But also I think it was the exhaustion from the new powers and our fight, and just the relief that¡­ I would know if you really liked me.¡±


    [There was ever doubt in your mind?]


    ¡°Oh, please.¡± She rolled her eyes before closing them once again. ¡°I¡¯ve been burned before. Not a story for today, but don¡¯t forget you were a grumpy asshole at first. It¡¯s hard to believe the guy who refused to even verbally communicate with me now¡­ well, wakes up in the same bed as me.¡±


    [For me, it is still hard to see how you looked past all that and found something worth your affection.]


    ¡°What did I tell you, Gunquake?¡± Clara stepped over from the workshop carrying my eyewear. ¡°Rockslide admires actions over words. You repeatedly put yourself in harm¡¯s way to protect others, against odds that no mere mortal should attempt, and still carry yourself with eloquence and compassion around weaklings like us.¡±


    ¡°I think the cow is complaining, hun. You¡¯re milking it too hard.¡±


    The techie smiled as she helped put on my goggles. ¡°Well, I certainly appreciate how much of gentle giant Gunquake is.¡±


    ¡°Not always gentle,¡± Roxy murmured, her own coy smile presented.


    I tuned their bickering out for a moment so that I could adjust to my lense again. There were a few notifications waiting my attention, and I took a deep breath before opening them.


    First was confirmation from Public Defender that the courier was on the way. Wouldn¡¯t be long until we saw the delivery van, if the timer was anything close to correct. Second message was Clara saying cheese. No further context. Last was Roy, mentioning that he was away for a couple of days with his parents, but wanted to hang out once he returned.


    Swiped them all away, only mildly disappointed that Boss hadn¡¯t sent anything. Also mildly glad for the fact. It was complicated.


    Opened up a map of the city and tried to focus. Dropped it down from a satellite image down to a basic wireframe. Start from the League of Heroes building. For no other reason than things seemed to gel together like that. Nothing immediately sprang out at me. Right eye slowly panned across the different districts, while my left eye passively stared at the piece of paper.


    I grunted.


    ¡°You have something, Gunquake?¡±


    [Partially. It¡¯s out in the wastelands.]


    Roxy groaned. ¡°I hope not too far out. League will throw a strop if they catch the three of us all suited up and dicking around way outside city limits. Me especially.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever considered picking out a vigilante outfit? Something you and Gunquake could have fun in. Black leather, straps, a mask to hide your identity?¡±


    ¡°Hard pass. I get sweaty enough in my usual outfit. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m wearing a gimp suit.¡± She nudged me with her foot again. ¡°Dubs wouldn¡¯t want that either, would you?¡±


    [Correct. You¡¯re already almost too hot to handle.]This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Ha!¡± She beamed at the techie.


    [Before you both distract me with any other impure thoughts, please allow me to focus on the treasure map.]


    Having Roxy as a vigilante had been a thought at one point. The amount of danger and destruction we could get up to together was exciting in an unhealthy way. Best to let the League keep her current public persona in check. I did wonder how they would slot me into the super group being what I was¡­ but I¡¯d leave that for greater minds than mine to decide.


    Breathed out slowly as I scrolled through the map, trying to line up the next point or landmark. There was something about the scale. Perhaps I had to zoom out a little more. Turned it by an angle, just a few degrees. Zoomed out a few percent. And¡­ click. There it was.


    Switched the lense off and turned my gaze back to the two women, who were glaring at each other. Didn¡¯t really need to fill in the gap of what they had been talking about. Somehow, knowing where we had to go made it seem¡­ I didn¡¯t know. I was apprehensive about not knowing exactly what was ahead. If it involved violence or there was a potentially bad ending, then that would be almost comforting.


    [I have the location.]


    Their put-on sibling rivalry quickly melted away, both of them looking at me with intrigue. I looked back toward the city and saw the delivery van kicking up dust as it left the main road and hit the dirt of the outskirts. At this point, we might as well give Hal and Van Michaels our real address. We were bound to be easy enough to find for anyone interested enough.


    I allowed myself a long sigh.


    [About three hours from here in the wastes. Northwest. The map doesn¡¯t show anything out there, but I¡¯m expecting some resistance.]


    ¡°You think it¡¯ll be safe to take Clara?¡± Roxy sat up and rubbed at the side of her head.


    ¡°With all due respect, sister, there is no reality in which I am not coming along for this adventure.¡± The techie crossed her arms.


    While I was partially keen to agree with the super, I knew there would be no dissuading Clara from joining in. Plus, we¡¯d need her van to get there. There were options out there that could increase her safety, we just didn¡¯t have the resources. Cloaking tech or perhaps a roof mounted automaton. Shielding. Maybe I¡¯d need to buy her a new vehicle soon enough. A tank.


    [Only on the basis that if Clara gets even the slightest whiff of trouble, you are to go to her immediately, even to my detriment.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°Dick move, but I accept. If you get Dubs killed because you¡¯re too soft, gremlin, then you¡¯re soon to follow.¡±


    ¡°Then I suppose I¡¯ll have him all to myself in the afterlife.¡±


    The super flipped her off. ¡°I¡¯m going to get ready, then. Let¡¯s get this over and done with. Clara you can help Dubs get dressed.¡±


    We watched as she sauntered off back into the house. Clara turned and pulled a face at the approaching van. ¡°You know, Gunquake, I had hoped your awkward courtship with Rockslide would last a little longer. Seems as though you are proficient in more than just violence.¡±


    [A super¡¯s attitude is often shaped by the nature of their powers. Now that Roxy is even more of a dormant volcano, there is more of a calm to her default persona.]


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure that is wholly the reason, but I admire the modesty.¡± She nudged me with her elbow. ¡°I am no longer a threat to her at my current level of needling. To push further is to court danger, Gunquake.¡±


    [I¡¯m not sure that you should take it as an invitation to see what the limit of her allowances are.]


    She gave me a brief pout, but she knew I was right. Fun and games had a point where the tension would break and one of us would get hurt. Probably me. We watched the van pull up just at the end of the road before it joined my yard, and then made our way over to sign for the package.


    The driver was a middle-aged woman rather surprised to see the both of us, some slight nerves visible at the corners of her light blue eyes where she wasn¡¯t sure if we were mutants or some manner of gang. With a nod of thanks and a wide parcel across my arms, she was thankful to turn around and head back to the city unharmed.


    ¡°As much as I find the man unpalatable, Gunquake, perhaps we should request Van Michaels transport all our goods for the near future. I feel I have second-hand perspiration from the amount of panic that poor worker had.¡±


    [Agreed. I¡¯ll make the necessary arrangements while we are traveling.]


    ¡°Super. Now let¡¯s strip you down and get you into something more flattering?¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure that I agreed with that statement - but then again, my outfit was designed to complement the whole theme and nature of my cybernetics. A plain t-shirt and shorts probably looked off with my dark metal and pale, scarred skin.


    Flirting aside, I was glad to have Clara help me get into my gear. Every little buckle and strap, plate and holster, all needed putting together again and adjusting to my figure. Once everything was set I could manage by myself, but the first time was always the most awkward.


    Roxy stepped out of the house while we were nearing the finishing touches, my trench-coat still laying on the deckchair as my torso was being dealt with. Now in her own super outfit, with a wide smile on her face.


    ¡°I almost forgot how good you looked in that stuff.¡± She stepped over to hold my coat up ready, her burning eyes undressing me even though it had taken me so much effort to get to this stage.


    ¡°How does that feel, Gunquake?¡± Clara stepped back and fanned her face. The effort required an exercise in and of itself in the warm sunlight of late morning.


    I shuffled back and forth, flexing side to side. Moved up and down and stretched each arm back and forth.


    [A little tighter on my right midsection strap, please.]


    With a nod, she was back in, pulling on the buckle until it moved about an inch. She didn¡¯t really have the strength to make an easy job of it, although her dexterity certainly helped with some of the more fiddly parts of the outfit assembly. That said, I wasn¡¯t sure if I wanted Roxy to do it, just in case she went a little too far and crushed me.


    [Thank you.]


    I turned to the super and put my arms into my dark green trench-coat, gun-arm first as my left could bend a little easier to complete the task. And there it was, back into my new comfort zone.


    ¡°Come get your mags and such loaded up, Gunquake. There shouldn¡¯t be much else we need to prepare.¡± Clara moved to the workshop while Roxy leaned forward to give me a kiss on the side of the face.


    Given that we didn¡¯t know exactly what to expect, we went with a full load-out. All the ten-mags I could carry, the spares to go in the van. Full set of grenades. Tool kit of miscellaneous things. Drum mag full of Nerve, just because it was the most plentiful of our ammunition stockpile, and did a good enough job against soft targets.


    I paused and walked through to the larger side of the workshop.


    ¡°You want to take the pistol as a sidearm?¡± Clara asked from the door. ¡°We still have the drop-leg holster from last time. Rockslide didn¡¯t destroy that.¡±


    [Hmm. Not so much. There¡¯s just something else I wanted to check.]


    Her curiosity piqued, she stepped into the workshop fully as I brought the evidence bag over to the workbench. Withdrew the pistol carefully and then ejected the magazine. It was full - that was expected, really.


    [Ten bullets.]


    Standard for this pistol was twelve, and the magazine would certainly fit that amount. Pushed the first bullet out onto the table. Second one clicked up, and looked different from the first.


    ¡°That¡¯s a blank, Gunquake? Or something inert, at least.¡± Her eyes narrowed.


    I cycled the next eight shots out of the mag and onto the smooth surface where they rolled about, before finding a place of rest against the deflated evidence bag.


    Blank. Blank. Live. Blank. Live. Blank. Blank. Live.


    [Of the ten, only four remain.]


    ¡°Gunquake? You¡¯re looking a little out of sorts.¡± Her hand rested on my gun-arm, and I almost jerked away in response.


    [Hmm? Oh. Apologies. I¡¯m¡­ not sure what happened there.]


    ¡°You mentioned you were one of ten. There were nine shadows in your episode last night.¡± Clara¡¯s hand continued to hold me as her face tried to read my eyes behind my goggles. ¡°I¡¯m pulling at straws here, but you made it sound like this is telling you four of those ten are still alive.¡±


    [Including me, I assume.]


    I nodded and relaxed. Didn¡¯t realize I was so tense. A long sigh exited my re-breather, and the techie moved away.


    ¡°Let us continue toward the light, Gunquake. Worry not about the shadows until they have sharper form.¡± She smiled and gestured toward the door.


    Was that it? I followed her out to find Roxy leaning up against the van already. That kind of clue was something more overt than the serial or map, but was it as straightforward as it purported to be? I wondered which of the ten were still alive. Also, which one was I?


    ¡°Took you long enough?¡± Roxy narrowed her eyes. ¡°Not oiling up his barrel behind my back, I hope.¡±


    ¡°Gross, on two counts, sister.¡± Clara moved past to go around to the driver¡¯s side. ¡°Gunquake¡¯s shotgun requires a special synthetic buffering lubricant that is no mere ¡®oil¡¯.¡±


    Doors opened, and we entered the van. I took my usual position in the back, while Roxy sat on the passenger side. Doors closed.


    ¡°And what was the other reason?¡± the super asked, her eyes still narrowed.


    ¡°The insinuation that I would do it in secret, when you know full well I¡¯d do anything like that in front of your face.¡±


    Roxy maintained the glare as the vehicle started up. ¡°Not sure whether I respect that or not.¡±


    I was more focused on what we might find at the end of this journey. Three hours was a long time to dig around in the back of my mind for any potential reason that this could be something terrible. I¡¯d feel more relieved to find out it was just a trap, rather than have to come to terms with unlocking the unknown.


    A squad of ten people. Super soldiers trained to combat people with super powers. Believable to a degree. There would be some need to control them if they weren¡¯t eager to kowtow to the League. But then something had happened and some of us had died.


    Was it a betrayal? With three others potentially alive - were they just as unlucky as me and were picked up by Boss or some other similar entity? Now living similar lives? Or were they alive because they had orchestrated the downfall of the rest of us?


    How terrible the unknown was.


    ¡°You alright back there, Dubs? You¡¯ve been quiet.¡±


    I unearthed myself from my thoughts, not realizing we had been driving for a little while already. Perhaps best to distract myself from the present.


    [Have either of you ever met one of the S-Rank heroes?]


    ¡°I met Angel when she was still A-Rank,¡± Clara said. ¡°Although this was before they gave me my eyes, and she didn¡¯t stick around for long.¡±


    ¡°Few months ago I went to a conference for strength-based heroes,¡± Roxy added. ¡°Red Rock was there, and he was very¡­ loud.¡±


    [Does he constantly shout?]


    ¡°Even his passive voice is shouting, when he actually shouts it can rupture eardrums. I¡¯ve heard they had to put some tech on him to stop that from happening.¡±


    ¡°Much to the chagrin of the cybernetics corporations,¡± Clara said, rolling her eyes.


    [How about Silhouette?]


    They both shook their heads.


    [Do they even exist?]


    Roxy shrugged and turned to look at me. ¡°An odd question. Why would you think they didn¡¯t?¡±


    [Hmm. Just professional curiosity, I suppose. I was once told I had an aura that disabled cameras and security systems.]


    Her face wrinkled up. ¡°What, your smell?¡±


    I sighed, and she grinned, turning back to look out at the amber glow of the wastelands we trundled through.


    While I didn¡¯t currently think Silhouette had any relation to me or my past, there was something that irked me about having an invisible hero. Perhaps once Clara got the database up and running, I could do a little more research. I needed to know about all of the A-Rank and above heroes if that was our arena.


    Be prepared to kill any of them if necessary¡­ it was my compulsion.


    Chamber clacked back and forth, and I raised my gun-arm up to observe it. I would have had a normal hand at some point. Something to hold¡­ an assault rifle, maybe? Strange that a shotgun felt like more my style. Curious bubbles rose and popped in my head.


    Perhaps there was a valid reason I had been assigned this arm.


    I added finding out where it came from to my list of mysteries to solve. Part of me starting to believe that nothing had been done randomly or by chance. Even my face. Which was¡­ hmm.


    [Clara, when you did surgery on my kill-switch, would you say everything in there was rather cleanly done?]


    ¡°Indeed, Gunquake. The individual who did the work was highly trained and experienced.¡±


    [Do you believe the cybernetic replacement was necessary?]


    Her green eyes went up to the rearview mirror to frown at me. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you are asking?¡±


    [For my lower face and neck to be replaced, I must have been damaged extensively. However, I have no scarring around the edges of the parts installed to signal a large wound.]


    ¡°Oh. You are suggesting that they must have extended past the original area of your injuries, not just replaced the damaged parts.¡± She tilted her head from side to side. ¡°Potentially, and not too suspicious given that your neck and throat are very important, and it may have been necessary to overreach to ensure your long-term safety.¡±


    Roxy turned around, her face wrinkled up. ¡°But what Dubs is also saying is that they might have just taken his face for another reason.¡±


    [So nobody would recognize me.]


    We mulled this over in awkward silence as the van rocked back and forth on the rough terrain toward our destination.


    I had a feeling that this would be a very long day.

 64 - Scattered

    It was surprising how much empty wasteland was out there. While our journey took us at an angle almost parallel to the city, there was no telling how far you could go before coming across anything of merit. Going out past the outskirts and not following one of the official highways was as much as a death sentence as anything. Even if you managed to skirt all the mutants, gangers, and monsters that somehow eked out an existence amongst the heated rocks, you could drive for days and not see the glimpse of the next city if you went the wrong direction.


    Thankfully, we had a map. Enough fuel for the return journey and extra. Some degree of common sense between us.


    The route was drab, despite the bright colors of the sun illuminating endless sandy amber rock. Partly this was because there were no windows in the back of the van, so I just rocked back and forth and tried to ignore the light coming in from the front.


    Too sour and apprehensive to really enjoy anything. When we turned up to the location, we didn¡¯t even know what to do there to retrieve the target. Was it even information? The symbol was something I recognized as ¡®cache¡¯ but I wasn¡¯t entirely convinced I could trust that.


    How easy it had been to unsettle me by shaking up the snowglobe of my past. Some slight shame graced the part of me that was just angry that this was how I was spending my day instead of relaxing with the pair seated to my left.


    ¡°Ah, shit. Pull to the side, Clara.¡± Roxy withdrew the binoculars from her eyes.


    ¡°What can you see?¡±


    Bringing up my own map finally, it looked like we were almost there.


    ¡°There¡¯s like buildings? An outpost or something?¡± Roxy turned in her chair as the techie rolled the van into the shade of some large rocks nearby.


    [Mutants, I assume?]


    ¡°Can¡¯t pick out much from this distance, but it does look ramshackle.¡±


    I exhaled. Calming almost, to know that I had a fight to roll into. An excuse to focus on some conflict rather than dig around for¡­ hopefully something that wasn¡¯t a high-yield explosive? That would be a rather amusing ploy by Boss, after the unimpressive assassin.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be a distance to walk, but I don¡¯t want the van getting much closer.¡± The super drew up the binoculars again and looked to our left.


    [No other terrain between here and there?]


    ¡°Eh¡­ let me get out and check.¡± Roxy popped the door open and with a small burst of energy, she jumped up onto the rocks we had stopped behind.


    Clara turned to me. ¡°I can sense your nerves, Gunquake. Is there anything I can do?¡±


    [I am wary that I have just the one possible empty stims pack in at the moment, with nothing to replace it with.]


    ¡°Hmm. Have you thought about not getting injured?¡±


    I tilted my head to the side, waiting for the punchline. Or maybe just a smile. But¡­ none came.


    ¡°I¡¯m being serious with you now, Gunquake. I¡¯m sure you know that tech superheros have a shorter career than most, and end up with terrible injuries ten times as often as those with actual powers. If you keep throwing yourself into the jaws of death in the hopes that you¡¯ll continue to get lucky¡­ well, our budding companionship will be short-lived.¡±


    [I would still like to have some manner of in-mission healing and power boost.]


    ¡°Then I hope your silver tongue works just as well on convincing Belle to play her part.¡±


    [When I¡¯m solo¡­]


    She smiled. ¡°Worry about that when it comes to it. If you need adrenaline shots and illegal healing juices to fight off a group of mutants, then I¡¯ll turn this van around and leave you here amongst the filth where you belong.¡±


    [Careful. I might prefer the tough love.]


    Although her smile remained, the techie rolled her eyes, before looking off to the side as Roxy dropped back down.


    Hopping back into the vehicle, the super shut the door. ¡°Circle to the right at an angle. The terrain dips a little bit and we¡¯ll be able to get a quarter mile closer to them and still be hidden.¡±


    Van hummed back into life and pulled away, tyres crunching through the dry gravel.


    Perhaps Clara had a point. I was certain she was just giving me a hard time because she had no better answer, and I deserved a bit of a telling off for how flagrant my dancing with death was. If I couldn¡¯t deal with some light firearms and melee weapons without getting thrashed, then how was I supposed to go against super villains?


    Despite my inhuman ability to withstand damage and heal back up, it wasn¡¯t something I should rely on. If our super group spent half their time rescuing my bloodied corpse from the bottom of the enemy barrel, then they¡¯d soon kick me out.


    ¡°I would have assumed it was abandoned if it wasn¡¯t for the smoke coming from it,¡± Roxy mention idly. ¡°We could be coming up to the side or back where there¡¯s no entrance.¡±


    [Any watchtowers?]


    ¡°One on our right side. Possibly a figure in there, but it¡¯s shaded.¡±


    There was a hope that given how infrequently traffic moved through the wastes, any assigned guard would not be paying attention. Maybe even asleep if we were lucky. Of course, with Roxy on my side¡­ I needn¡¯t worry that much when it came to combat. She¡¯d be able to box her way through whatever resided within the walls ahead.


    [Roxy, I know you could kick the outpost down like a sandcastle, but I was going to request you follow my lead on this?]


    ¡°Of course, Dubs.¡± She turned and gave me a smile. ¡°This is your rodeo after all, plus I¡¯m sure with your tactical smarts I won¡¯t just wander into a group of foam-spewers and get stuck.¡±


    [The idea is both of us make it through the mission receiving as little damage as possible. Even me.]


    I caught Clara¡¯s eyes go up to look at me through the rearview mirror, before she focused on the road.


    The super nodded eagerly. ¡°One of the hottest things you¡¯ve ever said. Don¡¯t you think so, Clara?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. He¡¯s said much hotter things to me in private.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well.¡± She turned and scowled out of the window. ¡°He¡¯s my boyfriend.¡±


    Despite our enemies being outside the jurisdiction of the city and League, I was still planning on leading with the drum-mag full of Nerve shot. Selectloader had some of the more fun shells in, but as long as the mutants fell over and stayed down, it didn¡¯t matter what I hit them with.


    I was more interested to see if Roxy would try to use her volcano powers in the heat of battle. Didn¡¯t want to bring it up just in case it put pressure on her. While I had done my best to force it out of her with the violent training she had requested, now it was up to her to push herself. Some part of me seemed to know a lot more about powers than the conscious part of my brain did.


    Know thy enemy, perhaps.


    Van slid to a stop into more shade.


    ¡°Alright, kids,¡± Clara announced, turning so she could see us both. ¡°Field trip starts now. I¡¯ll be a helicopter parent with my drone to make sure you don¡¯t get into mischief. No fatal injuries, lewd acts, or arguing with each other. Do your job and come home safe. Alright?¡±


    Roxy rolled her eyes and stepped out of the van. I waited for a moment, her footsteps circling around to the back to let me out.


    [Clara. If I cooked something for you, would you try it?]


    ¡°What?¡± Her brow furrowed, actual confusion on her face. ¡°I mean¡­ sure.¡± The back door popped open, spilling fresh light amongst the dark boxes and computers. ¡°Anything for you, Gunquake.¡±


    ¡°Literally ten seconds, you witch.¡± Roxy glared at the techie as I hopped out of the van and onto the sandy rock that made up most of this area.


    [You can join in too, if you¡¯re jealous?]


    ¡°Really, Dubs?¡± Her scowl turned to me now. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re even implying, but my answer is fifty-fifty between begrudgingly accepting, or punting your head half a mile back towards home.¡±


    [I like those odds.]


    She growled and pushed me away so she could close the van doors. ¡°I¡¯d threaten you with sleeping on the couch, but that would still be an upgrade from your dirty fuckin¡¯ hovel you¡¯re used to.¡±


    [Hey.]


    ¡°Nuh-uh. Don¡¯t you try to smooth talk your way out of this.¡±


    [Thank you for doing this with me, Roxy.]


    I placed my hand on her arm, and she pursed her lips together. Some annoyance still in her inferno-esque eyes, but I could see her defenses crumbling away by the second.


    ¡°Asshole. Fuck you.¡± Her hand came up to rub along my covered cheek. ¡°Let¡¯s go kill some mother fuckers and get your shiny whatever it is.¡±


    [Does this count as a date?]


    She rolled her eyes, but the smile came out. ¡°Who knows? Let¡¯s ask our chaperone.¡±


    //Clara: Yes, this is a date.


    //Clara: I will record everything to relive every sweet moment.


    //Clara: Maybe make a montage to play at your wedding.


    ¡°Clara!¡± The super flexed and clenched her hands, thankfully avoiding the instinct to punch the van to get the techie to be quiet.


    [Alright, enough fun. Mission time is now. I will follow your lead to the wall Rockslide.]


    After a brief second where she considered telling me where I could shove my orders, she gave me a stoic nod. The plan all along was to guide the super group into being a better team. While Roxy was still the leader, for now, I was calling the shots. Something in her wanted to rebel at first, but it only took a handful of seconds for all of us to get on the same page.


    She moved off in a jog, and I followed behind her. Might seem rude to use her as a shield, but she was much hardier than I. A sniper shot wouldn¡¯t take her out - especially with the low tech the wasteland was full of. We left the shade of the rock outcropping and the bright sunlight washed through, immediately bathing us in constant heat. I was glad Clara brought a spare canister for the ride home.


    Was no real cover on our approach. It was just a near sprint straight for the ramshackle walls - although as we got closer, they didn¡¯t seem so hastily constructed. Perhaps some old world buildings that had been taken over? The graffiti and weathering certainly left it with the appearance it was run down¡­ but to believe it abandoned would be a dangerous thought.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    //Clara: I fiddled with your goggles slightly, Gunquake.


    //Clara: You should be able to see through smoke to some degree.


    The drone hovered behind us, keeping a distance so that the noise didn¡¯t draw any attention. I gave her a signal with my left hand to acknowledge what she had said.


    Roxy slid to a stop just ahead of me and held her arm out.


    ¡°There are mines,¡± she hissed. Finger went out just ahead to a circular disk barely peaking out of the sand, metal and a weathered red hue to some manner of design on it.


    Some chance they were inert, but it would be painful to find out. Given how close she was, it was unlikely they were proximity based. Biting her lip, she looked between the unknown device, the swathe of land around us, and the walled outpost ahead. My eyes were narrowed up at the watchtower. Roofed, and too shaded to see if there was anyone in there. She had been correct about there being smoke - two or three thin wavy clouds emerged from within the walls to fade away against the blue sky.


    Campfires or similar, was my guess.


    Still a few hundred feet from the outpost itself, we were sitting ducks out here. Roxy moved, circling around the space where the mine was half-buried. I followed suit once she didn¡¯t explode, and wondered if she could survive it.


    //Clara: Changing to metal detection mode.


    //Clara: One of the few benefits of this version of the drone.


    //Dubs: Convenient.


    //Clara: What¡¯s the point of higher degrees of technology if not for convenience?


    //Clara: The scanner is rather slow, but you¡¯ll be able to walk through without taking risk.


    //Roxy: k


    An overlay pinged through in my lense. Something similar to our security sensors back home, I had a bird¡¯s-eye view of two dots representing myself and the super, while red circles appeared above us where the drone picked up potential mines. Not great, but better than having my legs blown off. Wasn¡¯t sure I was ready for leg cybernetics quite yet.


    Two more mines did show up, as we snuck and slalomed across the dry dirt. Eyes toward the outpost that was gradually getting closer. A smell struck my nose. Something boiling, like they were curing leather. Not an appetizing thought, given the situation.


    A shot rang out, and we stopped.


    Spotted by the watchtower. I ducked down into a crouch, but Roxy stood still, unmoving.


    [We need to get to the wall, now.]


    The super turned slightly now, to regard me. Blood ran down her outfit as she had been struck by the collarbone. A small wound and not very deep. The look in her eyes told me that she didn¡¯t view the severity any less.


    ¡°Right you are, Dubs.¡± She turned back and sprinted, her feet kicking up sand behind her.


    Could practically hear Clara swearing from here as the super eschewed any patience in waiting for the metal-scan to come through. Wouldn¡¯t be long before there was a second shot, or the mutants circled around their base or appeared at any battlements they¡¯d set up. I was keen not to take the second bullet - one mistake, and that would be a rather anticlimactic end to my story.


    Still, Roxy had made good distance, and we were almost there. With a growl, her footwork sped up and then she lashed out with a kick. A deep gray object burst from the ground and spun away from her, striking the wall and exploding with a flash of light. Obscuring cloud of smoke from the impact kept us vaguely out of sight from the sniper.


    [Take the sniper, throw me in.]


    She turned to me as I caught up and gave me a quick nod. Briefly I was in her arms, before the air whipped against me as she twisted and threw me. Thankfully, not at her full angered strength, but enough to breach the top of the wall. Left hand pulled at a grenade as I had a brief opportunity to survey the interior before having to act.


    A rough circle filled with crudely patched-up houses and other buildings. The skulls on spikes were enough of a clue that these weren¡¯t one of the more peaceful groups of mutants. The flayed corpses and tanning racks just added to that conclusion. Possibly fifty or more occupants, a group of a dozen or so over by the front gate on the far right. Plenty milling around in the open central part of the outpost.


    I landed on the roof of one of the houses just beside the wall. The scrap metal plates groaned and buckled before I had the chance to make a move. Another rush of vertigo as they collapsed, and I dropped through into the house itself. Hit the floor and rolled. Two soft targets looking rather surprised at me interrupting their¡­ nap. Two Nerve shots in succession had them passed out.


    Could hear footsteps and shouting outside. A brief look at my first two targets and they could almost pass as humans, but had bulbous fish-like eyes and webbed duck feet. Their hastily discarded clothing looked to be made of scraps of leather, decorated in symbols painted in white.


    There was a loud crash from outside. My cue to make an entrance. Pin out of the grenade as I stepped forward across the plain single-roomed house and kicked open the door.


    A cloud of gray immediately burst around me, and I stepped back to the side of the doorway. Bullets peppered through the obstructing gloom and clanged around the otherwise peaceful house. Overcharge burned up and selectloader fed my wanting chamber.


    Just as soon as their volley stopped, unsure if they¡¯d hit their mark, I stepped back through.


    Smoke shot straight to the forehead of the one just ahead. I could see figures as dark outlines within the smoke now. Not perfect, but good enough for me to strike them. Reflex flashed through my synapses and cooled my focus. Drum clicked around as I fired off six Nerve shots at greater speed than normally possible, dropping my assailants.


    Spent cartridges clattered to the floor as I thumbed at a ten-mag to bring another Smoke shell into my selectloader. Shouting from my left, so I pulled another smoke grenade from my vest and lobbed it that way. Strode towards the confusion.


    Even in the unfaltering brightness of daylight, I walked amongst the shadows.


    Over to the right was the occasional sound of bending or splitting metal, followed by heavy thuds or the snap of bone. Roxy was tearing them apart, I was sure.


    Smoke shot continued producing the obscuring mist that I live in, my shotgun otherwise nailing every target that my lense picked up. They were mostly unarmored, so the Nerve shots to the head or chest overloaded their brain into thinking they had taken fatal damage, and they just passed out. Briefly amusing that the super probably had more kills than me.


    //Clara: Group right. Flamethrower.


    I spun on my heel and dove to the floor, rolling across the hard ground as a wave of heat burst through my smoke cloud just ahead. Too far out for my lense to pick up, and my normal eyes only saw bright amber as the wide arc of the weapon swept through ahead of me.


    Breeze was taking the gray away and dissipating. Selectloader put in a Rubber shot and I fired it off in the direction the fire was originating from. The cone faltered and wavered slightly, lifting up at an angle to scour the sky, before tipping straight down to the ground. As I continued to scurry away to my point of origin, a whining hiss pierced through the area - and then the weapon overloaded and exploded.


    Shockwave had me stumble back as a wave of dust and heated air blew against me. Cloud of orange that quickly turned to near-black, rolling up toward the sky. My smoke almost all cleared to reveal the burning wreckage of the weapon plus the three casualties from the malfunction.


    Turned just in time to avoid the stab of a jagged spear, the roar of my assailant less offensive than his body odor bursting through the maybe-human-leather outfit covering his muscled body. A mask of similar material covered most of his face, also bearing the white symbols scrawled across it - only leaving holes for his wide eyes and a mouth of sharpened teeth.


    He hadn¡¯t come alone, either. As it seemed any remaining mutants with firearms had taken to try shooting the super, a group of melee combatants was focused on taking me down. Some degree of intelligence in those tactics, I supposed.


    Sparks rang from my shotgun as I deflected his attack. Fired off a blast past him to knock out one of his pals. He was quick and with a back-step, he already had the spear spinning around in a quick arc for a follow-up.


    Grenade pulled from my vest flashed and popped, stunning and blinding them briefly. I was thankful for the ear defenders Clara had given me the other day. Gun-arm lashed forward to knock the first guy out before I fired another three shots into the chests of my opponents before they regained their senses.


    I did it again. Flashbang and fired. Eradicating the whole group while only a slight headache of my own to show for it.


    //Clara: Danger Left.


    At her word, I rolled to the floor - something missing my torso but still wrapping around my leg. Electric shock pulsed through the limb, causing me to tense up. Not quite a whip - more akin to a lasso on a stick. I righted up to my free foot while my left was entangled by the mutant holding the pole. Shotgun went around to give him my thoughts on the matter, just as a second stick-whip wrapped around the weapon and pulled it to the side.


    Now I was reconsidering taking that sidearm pistol. Left hand went for my knife instead, but a pulse of electricity had my leg buckling and muscles stiffening up. How rude. Reminded me of something people would use to catch stray or dangerous animals.


    Perhaps rather apt.


    [Three seconds to release me or you both die.]


    The first ensnaring mutant grinned and shot a hungry glare toward the second on the opposite side of me - a wrinkled but surprisingly strong woman. Both clearly spending too long in the sunshine of the wastes, and were not particularly keen on listening to what I had to say.


    [Three.]


    Restraints on my gun-arm fell slack as the head of the woman exploded, her brain matter painting the nearby house as a handful of compressed metal bounced across the ground. Bulging eyes of the man widened further as he turned to look past me in shock.


    Roxy landed beside me with a thud and grabbed him by the neck.


    ¡°Let go now.¡±


    He squirmed, but was otherwise too dumb or taken by fear to do what she was asking.


    ¡°Now!¡± the super growled and her hand started to glow, suddenly bursting into a bright yellow. Mutant dropped from her grasp as her hand melted straight through his neck, liquifying skin and muscle.


    She stood in surprise, looking at the damage, before she shook her hand off. The radiance quickly faded to dark, crumbling rock with a satisfying hiss, and she turned her inferno-adjacent eyes back to me.


    ¡°Shit. I didn¡¯t mean to activate it.¡± Her face contorted into a grimace.


    [But you controlled it and let it go with no issue?]


    Roxy lifted up her hand to observe it. To my eyes, it looked as though the process had at least burned away any blood and gore it previously had on it - if the state of her left hand was anything to go by.


    [Plus you only used your one hand. Not the whole package.]


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She raised an eyebrow and smiled at me. ¡°A bit of a false start, but perhaps I¡¯ll have that amount of control over time.¡±


    I nodded and turned to observe the outpost. Some mutants had fled - the open doorway allowing a brief view of the shapes moving away into the near distance. My side of the battle had groups of unconscious figures, other than the licking flames of the exploded flamethrower and its victims. Her side had¡­ broken and bloodied bodies.


    ¡°Yeah, my fists don¡¯t have a safety toggle, I¡¯m afraid.¡± She shrugged and winced. ¡°Plus, I was pretty pissed that I was shot.¡±


    I tilted my head and held her shoulder with my left hand, turning her slightly to get a good look at the wound. It had managed to pierce her super suit and break through the skin. Against a strength super and with wastelands tech, that was uncomfortably impressive.


    [Deep breath please.]


    She did so, and I dug my fingers into the impact place. Her brow furrowed, and jaw clenched, but after a couple of seconds of pressure, I relented.


    ¡°Asshole,¡± she exhaled. ¡°Not sure that is hygienic or best practices. Still on the fence if it¡¯s hot, but what were¡­¡± her voice trailed off as I held up the piece of shrapnel that had lodged in her.


    [Not normal ammunition. I will take it home for testing.]


    Wasn¡¯t anywhere near the level of a Sanguine stake, but it had that scent to it. Could have been a lucky shot, or something designed to be armor piercing¡­ but if it had a small nudge towards being anti-super then I wanted to know everything about it.


    //Clara: I will need to test you when home as well, Rockslide.


    //Clara: Ensure it wasn¡¯t irradiated or coated in anything.


    //Clara: Good idea not to share any bodily fluids with anyone until you have the all clear.


    Roxy turned and stuck her middle finger up at the dragonfly drone hovering a good fifteen feet above us. Clara had some point, though - couldn¡¯t be too careful with this sort of thing. Given the thick smell of boiling fat and charred rock in this area, I was at least thankful for my gas mask.


    ¡°Alright, Dubs. Let¡¯s find your treasure and get out of here.¡±


    [Treasure isn¡¯t really the word for it¡­ but I will be glad to be gone from here. Thank you for the assistance, by the way.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. That¡¯s just part of being a team, right?¡± She gave me a wink and grinned out at the carnage she had caused. ¡°Your map gave you any other clues?¡±


    I took a deep breath and tried to consider it. It was pretty basic in that it led to this specific location. Whether the mutants were here before or after it was planted was an interesting question, but I was willing to believe they had been established here a while.


    Some of the buildings still had a semblance of their prior use. Others were new and built from scrap, for an odd definition of the word ¡®new¡¯, anyway.


    My left hand raised, finger outstretched to a partial stone structure, weathered detailing visible in places.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Roxy narrowed her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s an old¡­ World Government office?¡±


    I nodded, and we set off toward it. Lack-of-tongue stuck in my lack-of-mouth. Still unsure what we could even find here. If I actually wanted to. The alternative was¡­ to have this stuck in my mind like a hot splinter for the rest of my life, most likely.


    Door opened, and we stepped into the gloomier interior. Air was thick with something they had been storing here. Even through my gas mask, my face wrinkled up at the odd sour smell.


    Roxy covered her lower face and glared around at the decor just in case this was some manner of trap. Long decayed by years of heat, the building was a literal shell of its former self. Still, some design remained in the shape of the architecture, but the mutants had totally taken over. White symbols scrawled throughout the walls from shoulder height downwards until some muck from the floor dirtied the surfaces too much to be used.


    Some of the interior walls had been knocked down to create a singular room, as evidenced but the jutting stubs of brickwork running across the ceiling in two long lines. Piles of debris and detritus sat in every corner, leaving the woodwork damp and soaked through, where otherwise, it should be as dry as the rest of the wastes.


    I shuffled through the garbage, cautiously apprehensive.


    Roxy remained near the door, hoping some of the fresher air could save her from throwing up or catching some respiratory disease.


    But I persisted. Back of the room where decaying boxes had been stacked up. Looked like pieces of leather that weren¡¯t useful for making clothing had been dumped here. Head turned to the other side, and my stomach tightened up.


    A safe.


    I gestured the super over and she reluctantly followed. Eyebrows raised in seeing the locked metal object. Rather than sitting in this health hazard and opening it, she tore it from the wall and took it outside - easy enough when the action brought down part of the building as well.


    [I¡¯m unsure if I was given a clue to the combination.]


    The super rolled her eyes. ¡°Thank fuck I¡¯m good at this sort of puzzle, then.¡±


    Her hands gripped at the back corner of the thick metal container, and with a growl, her fingers dug in. With a terrible squeal, she split the sides and pulled the back off like a can-opener. That certainly saved me a headache. She gestured for me to be the first to look at the goods.


    Left hand went in and I pulled something out.


    A singular item. The dark fabric of a duffle bag. Not exceptionally heavy or full of much.


    Muscles tensed as I placed it on the warm ground.


    We each held our breath as my gloved hand took the zip, and began opening it up.

 65 - Treasured

    In some ways, my two lives were just like the zip I now found myself clasping. An overt outside illuminated by daylight, while the shadowed unknown lurked within. Pulling this open, tearing along the seam long destined, was a natural process. Didn¡¯t stop it from sickening me in a way.


    It only took a few seconds to pull the zipper around the outside of the bag, but it felt like agonizing minutes. Heartbeat thumped in my chest. Lightheaded. My breath held as my brain raced over a hundred different possibilities for what lay inside.


    And then, I folded the flap back.


    No immediate explosion. Contents within were almost as dark as the bag itself. Fingers buzzed as they hovered closer to grasping at it. Sounds around me seemed to dull, except for my living organs fighting to escape this situation.


    I lifted it up slowly. My eyes clocking what it was almost immediately, but my brain was struggling to catch up.


    A tactical vest. Straps slack, buckles clacking together as I stood slowly and turned it. Indentations on the front plate where it had been shot. The place where a nametag had once sat had been torn off. As it rotated, I fixated on the right side.


    Rips through the fabric. Frayed ends of straps and a darker tone to the texture of the material. Long dried blood.


    A ringing in my ears numbed my senses, my peripheral fading away as I couldn¡¯t take my focus away on this damaged section. Where their right arm would have been. Where my right arm would have been. Air left my lungs and the sound of gunfire played around in the back of my mind like a movie in a different room. Shouted orders. Screams. Sweat and blood. Flashes of light and then darkness.


    I gasped as my body shook, only just realizing that the super was shaking me gently.


    ¡°Dubs? Dubs? Stay with me here.¡± Concern in her fiery eyes as I emerged from the confusion.


    [Roxy. Apologies, I was¡­ disturbed.]


    ¡°I could tell.¡± She pulled me in for a hug as my arm went slack. ¡°I¡¯m guess that¡¯s what the old you was wearing when¡­ you died?¡±


    All I was able to respond with was a grunt. It was clear to me now that Boss had planted this here, but why? Did he remove the name tag? At least I was somewhat comforted that removing my arm had been necessary, given the damage the protected gear took.


    [Best we move on from here. Take the bag home for testing.]


    She pulled away and nodded, still not entirely convinced I was fine. Which I wasn¡¯t. Benefit of the vocalizer was that my voice could remain neutral and confident even if I felt rather shellshocked.


    ¡°Sure. That was the only thing in there?¡±


    I furrowed my brow further and kneeled down. Hand dug around within and found¡­ a small piece of technology.


    Still expecting something dire to happen, I withdrew it slowly and held it in the air. Some manner of chip? The drone hovered down closer so that Clara could take a look.


    //Clara: Looks like an encrypted micro-drive.


    //Clara: Keep it safe and I will crack it back home.


    Dropped it carefully into one of the pouches on my belt. Roxy helped me zip up the bag with the ruined gear inside. While I was down here, I unclipped a torch from my chest and shone some light through the back of the safe. It was a simple two-shelf design. Bag had been on the bottom, and there was nothing else there. Top shelf¡­


    [Could you hold the light, please?]


    The super did so, and I reached in once more. Had been hard to see it in the dark, but there was an envelope. Drew it out into the light. Black, with a red border. Fancy stationery, but it didn¡¯t jog any memories.


    On the front, however, the large W in gold pen made it all too clear what this was.


    Turned it over and thumbed through the seal, Roxy stepped forward to help remove the empty envelope so I could open up the letter within. Plain white paper, sharp fold through the middle. Handwriting smart, but the actual words drew my attention from further analysis.


    Agent W,


    If you are reading this, then you are finally on your own.


    Either I am dead or the hounds nipping at my heels have gotten too close for comfort.


    I have no regrets over keeping you caged, nor offer any apologies.


    As a token of my appreciation for your work over the years, I leave you with meager breadcrumbs. Spread your wings and follow them, songbird, if you wish.


    Otherwise seethe and writhe among the maggots where I found you.


    Goodbye.


    Boss


    I stared at the page for a while, not really focused on the words or the message any longer. There was a¡­ greasy feeling to it. Like my brain had been slathered with oil. The promise of freedom - that he was letting me go, to run free.


    What a sick fucking joke.


    Took a deep breath and handed it over to the patient super. Should I feel bitter and hold a grudge? I had become too much trouble for him to keep me under wraps, so he was escaping and leaving me to the life I had clawed and struggled to grasp at. And yet this was his ''benevolent mercy''.


    Left hand clenched into a fist.


    To top it off, rather than paint the answers out clearly for me, I was just left to work it out myself. Dangled my destroyed armor in front of me but shrugged and sank into the shadows after. If there wasn¡¯t something substantial on the chip, I might change my current goals to finding the asshole and beating the answers straight from his skull myself.


    Maybe that¡¯s what he wanted.


    ¡°What a motherfucker.¡± Roxy shook her head, handing the page back over before she burned it. ¡°Are you alright, Dubs?¡±


    Wasn¡¯t sure what to vocalize just yet, so I gave her a brief shake of my head. Wasn¡¯t sadness¡­ just the disgust over the disrespect shown to me. I craved the truth as much as I feared it, and to treat it as something that he didn¡¯t even care to give me the closure over after all these years¡­


    My tumulous thoughts clattered around before slowing to a simmer as the super brought me in for another hug. She was uncomfortably warm, but I rested my head to the side of of hers and tried to ground myself.


    [Currently, Boss has been manipulating or guiding me between mysteries. While my initial emotional reaction is one of contempt, I do not discount the fact that this is all an intentional part of a longer ploy.]


    ¡°Maybe, Dubs. I just wanted you to have a win today.¡±


    I moved away slightly so I could look her in the face. Watched the flames dancing behind her eyes.


    [There¡¯s still time for us to achieve that.]


    She smiled and narrowed her eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s hope I get the all clear from the doc then, huh?¡±


    //Clara: I¡¯m not opposed to falsifying the results to further my own agenda.


    The super turned and waved away the drone. ¡°Shoo, would you? Keeping an eye on our surroundings, I hope?¡±


    //Clara: Escapees have regrouped but showing no interest in making a counter-attack.


    //Calra: Incapacitated individuals recovering from the Nerve agent, I suggest moving back to the van.


    [I concur. I¡¯ve had enough of being outside.]


    Roxy gave me a pat on the back and picked up the bag. We walked to the closest part of the wall not obscured by housing or debris, and she kicked a large panel off - creating our own doorway.


    [Always a pleasure seeing you in peak form.]


    ¡°Quit with the flattery, asshole. You just had a big dose of trauma there. I need to know you¡¯re actually okay.¡± Although the words were stern, her expression was softer than usual.


    [I feel as though someone has stuck a dirty spoon into my brain and mixed things around.]


    ¡°Any memories come flooding back?¡±


    At first I just shook my head, but under her constant glare, she melted the truth from me.


    [Disjointed sounds and emotions again. A firefight, perhaps. Didn¡¯t sound too healthy.]


    ¡°No, I imagine not.¡± Roxy gave me a glum smile as we stepped carefully back through the minefield. ¡°You had a near-death experience. I¡¯m really apprehensive as to what is on this encrypted drive.¡±


    [As he did not want to give me any answers, I¡¯m not too hopeful.]


    //Clara: Sounds like he is leaving it for you to find out if you want to.


    //Clara: Although I couldn¡¯t imagine you¡¯d ever not want to, Gunquake.


    [That might be his assumption too, although I wonder how long ago the letter was placed.]


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you something, though.¡± Roxy relaxed as we made outside of the minefield. ¡°I don¡¯t like how he is dangling all these skeletons in front of you every time you try to move on. I¡¯d like to ask him a few questions myself.¡±


    [Would the first one be ¡®how much do you like having no head?¡¯ as you burned it off?]


    ¡°Hah. That''d probably the third question, for sure.¡± She stepped around to my left side so that she could hold my hand. ¡°I much prefer problems I can kick the shit out of.¡±


    [You always say the most poetic things. Really resonates with my soul.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes, but her smile was radiant. ¡°I don¡¯t know where all this charm comes from, Dubs. Has me head over heels though, like we¡¯ve known each other for years.¡± She moved a little close to press into me as we walked. ¡°Which we definitely haven¡¯t, before you ask. You know I have the subtlety of a brick through a window - I would have been mewing at your door like a lost cat from day one if we had a prior relationship.¡±


    [Is that what cats do?]


    ¡°No idea. I¡¯m just yapping because my brain is too focused on us getting home and out of these sweaty outfits.¡± The super bit her tongue and narrowed her eyes at me. ¡°Bet you¡¯d love a nice bubble bath.¡±


    [You had me at bubble bath.]


    ¡°Hope you don¡¯t mind me joining you, then?¡±


    //Clara: I can still hear you both, you know?


    Roxy scowled at the van as we approached the rock formation. ¡°Dubs¡­ you didn¡¯t invite Clara to our bath, did you?¡±


    [Hmm? Oh, no. I was asking her if she would try my cooking.]


    She nodded slowly. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s any more believable, actually. You can cook?¡±


    [Is there anything that I cannot do?]


    The super released the grip on my hand as we reached the van, and grimaced. ¡°I¡¯ll feel like an asshole if I actually answer that, and I¡¯m trying to stay on your good side.¡±


    [Oh? Is there something you want from me?]


    She opened her mouth to respond, but the back doors of the vehicle popped open. The techie stepped out, a scowl on her face as she held her arms out to receive the powering-down drone. Her ire turned to the super first. ¡°I do hope you won¡¯t hog up the bathroom for too long, sister.¡± She then raised an eyebrow at me. ¡°For future reference, I prefer showers, Gunquake.¡±


    [No bubbles?]


    ¡°Well, no¡­ but maybe I can work something out?¡±


    Roxy huffed and waved her arms. ¡°Get your scrawny ass in the driver¡¯s seat and take us home already, homewrecker. We can fight for Dubs¡¯ attention later.¡±


    With a grin, Clara shrugged and put away the drone before going around the side of the van.


    The super stood near me and scowled at the techie the whole way, before sighing once the front door closed. ¡°Good thing we don¡¯t live in the city, otherwise you¡¯d have a queue of bachelorettes outside your door at all times.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    [Unfortunate. That would be a lot of disappointment, considering I have all I need right here.]


    Roxy tilted her head, and her expression softened. ¡°Motherfucker. Where have you been all my life?¡± She pulled me in for a hug.


    [Beats me.]


    She snorted and gave me a squeeze. ¡°Jerk. The bath isn¡¯t just so we can get all soapy together, you know? You need to decompress, and I¡¯ll be there for you if you need a heart to heart, okay?¡±


    [I¡¯m grateful, Roxy. Every step closer to the light I take is empowered your brightness behind me, giving me strength. Now get your toned ass into the van.]


    With a scoff, she let me go, some extra shine in her eyes as she tried to dig through my goggles to see my intent. ¡°Glad you brought it back with that last comment and didn¡¯t get too mushy.¡±


    I nodded, due to not being able to smile. A torment that felt ever more real the more time I spent with the pair. Penciled in the mouth-talk for our bathroom meeting. Watched her leave my presence to walk to the passenger side, before I turned to sit in the back.


    A comforting darkness as the doors closed, and the van started to roll away.


    Despite the jovial needling before, as soon as we were on the trail back home, we all fell into a silence. The fight at the mutant outpost had been short and without any serious injury, but the emotional toll had me exhausted.


    I closed my eyes and tried to hold down all the mental shelving buckling and twisting as the new half-revelations shook my mind like an earthquake. Just had to ride out the aftershock termors and I¡¯d be fine. There was a large pile of bitterness, not knowing if Boss was still manipulating me from the shadows or not. Whether the steps I trod toward the future were along a path he was drawing into reality just ahead of me.


    Did it matter? I tried to distance myself from the echoed memories of my last life, and the blinding dazzle of my current existence being thrown into the League.


    What did I actually want?


    Originally, it was to be left alone to kill and exist. Then, once I saw that I deserved more and could actually have a life, I wanted to be more¡­ normal.


    I had that now. A relationship. Friendship. Career options.


    All things that would usually have an uncomfortable film of slime to it. I had lived as a murderer. This pleasant existence shouldn¡¯t be possible. But, I allowed myself to suspend my disbelief. Enjoy it while karma was distracted.


    So now I had a choice of how far I wanted to take things. Already had ¡®business¡¯ planned out with the rest of the super group needing putting in their place. But what was my end goal?


    To be the best. The strongest. Be loved and respected. Survive whatever life threw out at me.


    I knew that some of those ideals were parts of the old me, piercing through the current fabric of ¡®Dubs¡¯ like sharp knives. The old me needed to be strong to survive against supers. I wasn¡¯t blind to the fact that I wanted to get this super group into shape because I wanted to build a dependable squad around myself again.


    In addition to that, I needed to know what the League really knew about me. What they planned to use me for. I could understand them seeing me as a valuable asset, given my past experience. With whatever retained muscle memory and desire to rise above the odds, I could make for a proficient weapon against supervillains.


    For the most part, I¡¯d play along. Allow them and Boss to believe they had me dancing to their tune - but my end goal circled back to what all three of us in the van wanted. An escape from what had us penned into this life. A split from the League that didn¡¯t have us painted as villains, where we could live our lives how we wished.


    I exhaled through my re-breather. The rocking of the van tired me out. Hard to sleep while traveling, though. Mind kept wandering¡­ and I tried to dust off the secrets hidden in plain view. Was there a reason Boss chose the World Government building here? It might have been the only one with a safe that the mutants couldn¡¯t get into. But then¡­ why there and not somewhere else?


    The letter itself might even have clues. Something with the words or a key to another breadcrumb¡­ but I no longer cared.


    Every time I was hit with a gut punch that reverberated around into me having these odd flashbacks, I dulled to the games he was playing. I didn¡¯t see the benefit of dragging me along, just seeing if I could work things out for myself. Maybe the truth was so harsh I needed easing into the reveal?


    What if I was even more of a monster than I thought?


    Van rolled to a stop, and I hadn¡¯t even realized we had made the full journey already. Dusk had settled in, not long before nightfall would grace us.


    ¡°Well, that wasn¡¯t the worst picnic outing I¡¯ve had.¡± Roxy gave me a wry grin before she popped the door.


    We all stepped out and the lower ambient temperature was pleasant, the breeze rolling through even more so. I allowed myself to relax.


    Then my brow furrowed. Hand went up to silence the pair before they could ask what was up.


    My eyes scoured our little neighborhood. Breath held, I rotated between the kill-room, empty yard, workshop, garden, the house, and then back to the space between them. I lowered my hand again, and gave a resigned grunt.


    ¡°Everything okay, Gunquake? Sensor log is totally clear aside from the delivery earlier and our van going back and forth.¡±


    [Not sure, just had one of those bad feelings.]


    Roxy was doing her own check, trusting my instincts, but coming to the same conclusion. ¡°Long day, I¡¯ll go start up the bath, Dubs.¡±


    ¡°I will be in the workshop so you both have some privacy.¡± Clara crossed her arms. ¡°But after you¡¯re done with him, I want him.¡±


    The super¡¯s right eye twitched, and she tilted her head. ¡°You¡­ need to elaborate on your intentions.¡±


    ¡°We need to discuss workshop equipment and gear upgrades.¡±


    ¡°Ah. In that case, sure.¡± With a glance at me, she turned and walked off to the house.


    [Will you assist me in taking off my tactical gear, Clara?]


    She nodded and gestured to the smaller side of the workshop. While superheroes often seemed to live in their outfits, I wasn¡¯t keen to be dragging around a full rig of magazines and grenades everywhere I went. At home, just the vest, slacks, and trench-coat would be enough. I handed over the bag containing the ruined vest, and produced the small data drive.


    We had appropriated some basic shelving from somewhere, and I didn¡¯t care to ask how or when. Just enough to stack my mags in a box and hang up my chest rig and belt. Although the weight of my equipment was usually oddly comforting, it felt freeing to be rid of it today. Duffel bag went onto the shelf, and tech into a small case in her pocket. We didn''t have a proper computer set up just yet.


    [Find whatever computer equipment you need that can be delivered by Van Michaels tomorrow. I''ll leave that in your capable hands, but I want you to do all the testing and decryption in house.]


    She nodded. "As you command, Gunquake. Shall I send you quotes?"


    [No, just get it done. Could you also do me the honor of submitting my League documents?]


    ¡°Of course, Gunquake. I¡¯ll have a double check through them while you are occupied with my sister, and get them sent off.¡±


    [I¡¯m partly surprised that you hadn¡¯t already done it.]


    ¡°Normally I would have, but this is your important decision to make.¡± She smiled and leaned against the wall as I put my coat back on. ¡°For me, if you turned around and said you weren¡¯t going to be a hero, and went to do your own mercenary work¡­ or worse, I¡¯d still stick with you and help.¡±


    [And risk being labeled a villain?]


    ¡°I¡¯ve decided my loyalty falls alongside your fated path. Foolish, sure, but I can think of no sadder death than being the League¡¯s underdeveloped pawn the rest of my life.¡±


    Her ambition couldn¡¯t abide it. She had mentioned they were previously not keen for her to work on live patients, so my acceptance of whatever she wanted had lit a fuse under something she was passionate about. While I would never wish for her devotion to lead her against the law or into danger, she was as stuck with me just as I was with her.


    [You¡¯ll be a sidekick soon, I will make sure of it.]


    ¡°Counting down the days, Gunquake.¡± Her smile softened. ¡°Go get washed up, but don¡¯t use up too much of your energy. I need you for something later.¡±


    [Something¡­ dangerous?]


    Clara bit her lip. ¡°No. Not unless you want it to be.¡±


    I shook my head and sighed, eliciting a smile from the techie. Waved her off and left the workshop before she could corral me into more slippery wordplay. There was a whole host of technical conversations we needed to have about my gear progression and the way forward.


    If I didn¡¯t leave her now, I¡¯d miss out on the bubbles, however.


    Took another glance around our housing before I went through the front door. Nothing, but my mashed brain was growing paranoid. Up the stairs, took my boots off outside the bathroom, and stepped in through the door.


    Roxy had already disrobed and stepped over to help me out of the rest of my outfit as soon as I entered. Door closed, we settled into the thick bubbles and warm water opposite each other.


    ¡°Ahh.¡± She closed her eyes and relaxed. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because of the volcano shit, but I love a hot bath, even though the outskirts here are often so warm.¡±


    [Agreed. I find it relaxing to scour away the sins of the day and soothe my aching muscles.]


    The super opened her eyes slightly. ¡°How you feeling about today, Dubs?¡±


    [There¡¯s an odd juxtaposition between the bickering and banter between us, and digging up the bloodied outfit of the old me who died.]


    Her eyes opened so that she could wince properly. ¡°I can¡¯t even imagine. We¡¯re an odd bunch, and that¡¯s a pretty¡­ heavy thing to hit you with.¡±


    [Odd, sure. But family, at least until you pop Clara¡¯s head off.]


    Roxy smiled softly. ¡°You want to know a secret, Dubs? I let her rile me up about us.¡±


    [You do?]


    ¡°We¡¯ve already established that I see actions as more important than words. Clara talks a lot of shit, but she¡¯d never do anything that would hurt me.¡± The super moved her hands through the bubbles to put a gathered handful on top of her head. ¡°I like seeing her happy, so if you guys hug or she sleeps against you¡­ it doesn¡¯t really make me that jealous.¡±


    [She seems to have basic companionship needs.]


    ¡°She dated a guy for a while and he was cute. Dated a girl and she was even cuter. Neither really lasted though, she just gets bored of relationships easily. Unconventional as it gets.¡± Roxy sighed. ¡°Even the pair of us were slowly drifting apart the last couple of years. Seeing the light you¡¯ve lit under her, plus our renewed sisterhood, is¡­ well, I can bear a little annoyance for that.¡±


    [Although, she seems keen to push things to see where your limit is.]


    ¡°Eh. I¡¯ll put my foot down if either of your genitals get involved.¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°And I mean, I¡¯ll literally put my foot down on your genitals.¡± The super¡¯s leg moved beneath the water to ensure I knew it was a real and plausible threat. And that she could currently reach.


    [With more force than that, I assume.]


    ¡°I¡¯m reasonably open-minded, Dubs, but I do want a traditional relationship. At least, outwardly facing.¡±


    [The League will require it?]


    A grimace went across her face and she sunk deeper into the bath, but she didn¡¯t immediately reply. I had thought our pairing might be a tough sell for the hero marketing department, and her expression furthered that point home.


    ¡°League¡­ does try to match make for publicity sometimes.¡± Her eyes closed as the bubbles consumed the back of her head. ¡°Few years back they tried to pair me with a female super, but I didn¡¯t think I could pretend for the public like that. I already had enough issues about my figure without¡­¡± Her voice trailed off.


    [They accepted you turning it down, though?]


    ¡°Sure, it¡¯s not like an arranged marriage or anything¡­ but there are perks to having an approved pairing.¡± Her eyes opened to look at the ceiling, but some dullness had clouded the usual fire. ¡°They suggested¡­ well, I won¡¯t name him. He seemed great at first. Good match, handsome, career prospects. I fell for him. But, he had a bit of a mean streak.¡±


    [Abusive?]


    She held her hand up, and I took it, helping her sit back up in the bath. Bubbles slipped down her wet body as she looked me straight in the face. ¡°You have to promise me that you won¡¯t go all macho jerk and fight my exes because of the past, okay?¡±


    [I promise you, Roxy.]


    Her eyes looked back and forth, trying to read me. Eventually, she was contented enough. ¡°He had a vile tongue. Said a lot of things about my body and that I¡­ Dubs, there¡¯s something else I need to tell you.¡± She looked tired now, reliving the past not only an effort for me. ¡°It¡¯s not something I tell many people, and things have been going so fast between us I just didn¡¯t¡­¡±


    My hand moved from the water, and I cupped the side of her face.


    [Whatever it is, I¡¯m with you. Good or bad.]


    Her expression softened, and she leaned her face into my hand. ¡°You soft motherfucker. I¡¯m just¡­ I¡¯m unable to have children.¡±


    [I understand. For what it¡¯s worth, I am pretty sure that I cannot either. It doesn¡¯t change anything between us.]


    Roxy moved her hand up to mine to hold it in place while she kissed my palm. ¡°Cancer, ironically found when the League took me in once my superpower came in. The reason I bring it up is because my ex gave me a lot of shit for it. Wanted someone I wasn¡¯t, really. One time he pushed me too far, and so I pushed him¡­¡±


    [I¡¯m assuming he wasn¡¯t a strength super.]


    She shook her head. ¡°Didn''t injure him, but it was the death knell. Packed my bags and went home to the farm to get away from him. Rookie error. He immediately ran to the League and media. I shouldn¡¯t have put my hands on him, but there¡¯s only so many times you can be made to feel inhuman and small.¡± Roxy blinked away some mist from her eyes. ¡°You fucking asshole, Dubs. We¡¯re meant to be talking about your issues, prick.¡±


    [Your issues are my issues, Roxy.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± She sighed, deflating back against the bathtub, letting my hand go. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re so fucking comfortable to be around. I am usually a hothead, but you¡¯re just some magic people-pleaser or something.¡±


    [For certain people, sure.]


    Others I murdered or maimed. That part was easy to ignore sometimes.


    ¡°It¡¯s just so nice to have someone accept me for what I am, including my flaws. Although I was sent here under false pretenses by the League, sometimes I feel it was the other way around?¡±


    [That we met for me to get under your skin and puppeteer your heart?]


    Her brow furrowed. ¡°Not quite that phrasing, but sure. Like if you told me the League actually sent you to unfuck my attitude and beat the team into shape, I¡¯d believe it.¡±


    An amusing thought, but I was certain that wasn¡¯t the case. None of my current past memories pointed to me being with the League - or anything as pleasant as orders to romance a super. It had worked out this way due to our personalities and desires, not because of the machinations of others. I hoped.


    [Is that what you need right now, Roxy? For your attitude to be unfucked?]


    Her eyes narrowed, and she bit her lip, the flames dancing in the back of her gaze giving me all the answers that I needed.


    <hr>


    An undisclosed amount of time later, and I was walking down the stairs once more. Needed a fresh canister after today. Left the light on after grabbing the chilled tube from the freezer. Didn¡¯t want a repeat of the previous evening. Now, in some more comfortable clothing, I was ready to turn my attention over to the techie and what she required of me.


    Roxy appeared at the top of the stairs as I stepped into the lobby. She now had a long, baggy t-shirt on, and a warm smile across her face. I stood and waited as she came down and walked over to me. Arms came up around me and she pulled me in close. Head moved back to look me in the face.


    ¡°Can I be a little dangerous, Dubs?¡±


    [I will allow it.]


    She ran her tongue across her dry lips as her burning eyes took me in. ¡°I... love you. I know that it¡¯s so soon, so I¡¯m not expecting you to-¡±


    I moved my hand up to put my finger on her lips before her tongue could run away any further.


    [I love you too, Roxy.]


    The super pulled me in tighter, and I almost died as she forgot her strength. It was soon. She was right about that. Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t lie to her. Despite defaulting to her issues in the bathroom meeting, the truth was she was helping me with every sentence she uttered.


    For a man previously alone and lost, shared emotional vulnerability was what I craved the most. Like a chilled canister on a hot day. She had said that my acceptance of her was what drew her in, but it was also her acceptance of me that allowed me to grow into what we now were. A murderer with no mouth and a gun-arm, yet she cared for me, was able to be passionate with me, and treated me no differently than if I didn¡¯t have my flaws.


    Odd puzzle pieces that fit together just right. It would be cliche to sit and say that I didn¡¯t understand love, or couldn¡¯t bring myself to find love in this life - cliche, and incorrect.


    Still, there was a hum in the back of my mind that I couldn¡¯t shake. More dots that hadn¡¯t connected yet, but were hinting at some underlying truth that would make things make more sense. I knew that I would kill or die for Roxy, and was looking forward to seeing what we could do together in the future. Both as superheroes, and as a couple.


    Something I wanted, that we had created ourselves.


    I pressed my forehead against hers as she finally let me go, the widest smile on her face I¡¯d ever seen. Waved her away as she went to get dressed before - I assumed - eating another whole tub of ice-cream.


    Some drab frustration pained at my eyes as I stepped out of the house into the cool night air. Inside I was smiling just as wide as the super, yet other than a few creases by my eyes, nobody would be able to see I was so happy. Fulfilled. Loved.


    Adjusted my t-shirt and sighed. Time to see what Clara wanted from me this evening, although some sleep sounded like a nice idea. Maybe a movie night.


    Stopped half-way to the workshop and turned to the side. The techie was already out, leaning against the van with her arms crossed.


    ¡°Get in, Gunquake. We¡¯re going to go do some crime.¡±

 66 - Chicken Wire

    The van rumbled down the dirt road, vibration shaking through me as the wheels thumped onto the start of the route eventually leading to the city. My eyes remained unfocused as the looming lights from Goldarch slowly grew brighter. I felt¡­ spent.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been on the road for five minutes, Gunquake, and you haven¡¯t even asked what we¡¯re doing. Should I be worried?¡±


    I blinked and turned my head to the techie. Given it was just us two, I had the rare opportunity to sit up front. She did look rather concerned.


    [Apologies, I am fine.]


    ¡°It¡¯s been a tough day for you, but I didn¡¯t expect you to exit your impassioned rendezvous with Rockslide looking even more traumatized.¡± She wrinkled up her face. ¡°I¡¯m almost hesitant to make any guesses.¡±


    [Our heart to heart session was remarkably revealing. She told me about her ex and her cancer.]


    ¡°Ah.¡± Clara was quiet for a moment, the sounds of the van filling the silence. ¡°Things are pretty serious between you then.¡±


    [I assume she keeps that information quite close to her chest.]


    ¡°Took her a few years to tell me. Her family doesn¡¯t even know.¡± Her green eyes glanced towards me before back to the road. ¡°I hope you appreciate what she has trusted you with is more dangerous than a Sanguine stake, Gunquake.¡±


    I didn¡¯t need it spelled out for me. The super had eased me in to her insecurities, and I had been accepting and understanding throughout them all. Although she mentioned it in passing due to the context of how terrible her ex was, if she didn¡¯t trust me, she would have skirted around it. This was a matter as close to her heart as possible.


    [Don¡¯t worry, I understand fully. It¡¯s no wonder you weren¡¯t a fan of¡­]


    ¡°She didn¡¯t tell you his name, did she?¡± Her fingers drummed on the steering wheel. ¡°I¡¯m sure you can guess why.¡±


    [I am a very efficient assassin who would murder anyone who hurt either of you in cold blood and probably get away with it.]


    ¡°An attractive trait. Although my trust in you is unfaltering, Gunquake, I will not defy her wishes and tell you his name.¡± She was silent for a moment. ¡°If we ever come across him, I will point him out so you can kick him in the balls, however.¡±


    [I will polish my boots daily, ready for the opportunity.]


    Clara smiled, as the first street lights started to wash over the vehicle in passing. ¡°I am usually indifferent to most people, but this individual I actually hate. Some¡­ guilt resides within me for not trying harder to get Rockslide out of the situation. I tried to advise her, but by the time she could see my point of view, I had drifted away.¡±


    [Matters of the heart are difficult to navigate. I assure you she is comforted to have you close again.]


    ¡°Feels like we are teenagers once more. You¡¯ve really been a panacea for us both, Gunquake.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°I know she lets me wind her up. She¡¯s always been able to read me like a book and see through whatever I say. We can all have a little fun because we are on the same page¡­ but her ex wasn¡¯t like that. Petty and vindictive.¡±


    [He insulted you?]


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll not fuel your grudge, however. You have your own past to worry about before you start unearthing those of others.¡±


    [A fair point.]


    Not that I wanted to do anything to her ex. It was natural I¡¯d have some anger for anyone who hurt the super, but it wasn¡¯t really my business to get involved in. Had enough current problems to deal with. Was avoiding.


    [She also told me that she loved me.]


    Clara was silent as we turned a corner. Drew up to some lights that then turned green, and we took another left. I started to wonder if I had actually said that out loud - or she was taking it differently than I had expected her to.


    Eventually, her brow furrowed. ¡°What did you say in return?¡±


    [I told her the truth.]


    ¡°A vague answer. Somehow I doubt you are steeped in romance tropes too heavily, Gunquake. Give me something more succinct, please.¡±


    [My response was that I loved her too.]


    Her face remained neutral for a handful of seconds, before a wide smile grew on her face. ¡°Good. You are an amazing match for us. Her, I mean.¡± She shot me a glance before turning down another road and pulling up to the curb.


    [I¡¯m thankful to have your blessing.]


    The techie turned to me and placed a hand on my gun-arm. ¡°If you two ever need a surrogate, then I¡¯ll bear your fruit, on condition I get to name them.¡±


    [That¡¯s¡­ possibly the worst idea I¡¯ve ever heard.]


    ¡°The night is still young, Gunquake.¡± She gave me a wink and sat back in her seat. ¡°We¡¯re a little early.¡±


    [I suppose I should ask what we¡¯re doing here.]


    Clara closed her eyes, the faint green glow painting her side of the van fading away. ¡°Recall how I always say that I trust you? You¡¯ve had a tough day, so I got you a little gift.¡±


    Given that she had said we were going to commit a crime, I wasn¡¯t sure what to expect. I narrowed my eyes and waited for her to explain further.


    ¡°As I don¡¯t have the appetite of my sister, my gift isn¡¯t a covetous act, but still something that you really, truly want.¡±


    [Are we going to murder someone?]


    She opened her eyes and turned her head to frown at me. ¡°No? I mean¡­ we could do that. I¡¯ve never killed before, but if that is what will make you happy? We¡¯d need to draw up a list of targets and-¡±


    [Forget I said anything. No killing, please - but clue me in a little more to what¡¯s actually going on.]


    The look on her face told me that she would probably go through with a little murder, which was partially concerning. It had been a while since I had a job like that, but I wasn¡¯t keen to ruin my chances with the League with a little off-the-clock vigilantism. Not when I was so tired, anyway.


    ¡°Remember how I keep telling you how I trust you? After you had that bout of paranoia, I went and ordered an even better security system for the area. We¡¯re here to pick it up, and I needed a chaperone.¡±


    [So the crime mentioned¡­?]


    ¡°Perhaps you need to get me in a bubble bath to extract all of my secrets, Gunquake.¡± Her eyebrow raised as she looked out to the empty street. ¡°The security system is coming from a third party seller, so I need your protection. The gift is actually a second package the group happened to have, which will remain a surprise until you can open it yourself.¡±


    Sounded like the third party had acquired the items in question through less than legal means. I could read between the lines. While I wasn¡¯t keen for the techie to start scouring the black-market for things¡­ I would hold off to see what she was actually able to get. I was willing to take shortcuts to the top if they were safe enough.


    If she did truly have secrets or was just needling me, was something else entirely.


    My brain was unable to handle it today.


    [You could have let me know beforehand. I could have armed myself properly, or at least put something more appropriate on.]


    ¡°Your cybernetics do all the work, Gunquake. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll look threatening enough in a plain t-shirt and¡­ slippers.¡± Her brow furrowed. ¡°I did say we were doing crime. I¡¯m not sure why you thought those were appropriate?¡±


    [I didn¡¯t think you were entirely serious.]


    The expression on her face softened into a smile. ¡°This isn¡¯t a test, Gunquake - but I¡¯ll be straightforward with you. Becoming your sidekick will occasionally put a target over my head, and short of living in a bunker, that means danger. While I do not doubt you would move the heavens to protect me, it would comfort me further to see it with my own eyes.¡±


    Perhaps the van was better than a command center in some ways. At least she would be within sprinting distance if anything ever went wrong. Even if I could fly, it would take too long to get from the city to our house. Not without something that could at least protect her for long enough for Roxy to turn up.


    ¡°I don¡¯t expect or want any violence tonight,¡± she added. ¡°It¡¯s been a long day and we are burning the candle from both ends lately. I¡¯d advise we take some real downtime the rest of the week and just focus on the workshop and being the best of pals.¡±


    [Weren¡¯t we going to see Belle?]


    ¡°I¡¯ve run through that scenario a dozen times.¡± She tilted her head and looked at the time on the dash. ¡°All of them resolve in a way that is detrimental to your relationship with Rockslide, so I propose we approach that situation differently.¡±


    Seemed as though Roxy was correct. Clara wouldn¡¯t put us in a position that ran the risk of actually upsetting the super. If the Church gathering was indeed some manner of couple¡¯s night, I could only imagine the awkwardness of us two having to pretend to be together, or what we¡¯d need to do with others to fit in.


    ¡°Let¡¯s make a move, Gunquake.¡±


    With a nod, we exited the vehicle and moved around to the back doors.


    [At least we won¡¯t have the awkward conversation of proposing the idea to Roxy.]


    ¡°Oh, I already asked her, Gunquake.¡± The techie popped open the back doors and dragged a box of ammunition to the edge. ¡°She even gave me a list of pre-approved actions we are allowed to do together. Here, fill up your selectloader as you see fit.¡±


    [She¡­ didn¡¯t mention anything to me.]


    ¡°That¡¯s because she trusts you¡¯d do the right thing already.¡±


    I ran my finger along the assorted shells. Six shots weren¡¯t much against who knows what. Priority if things went sour was to get Clara out of the situation, but often the best defense was a short, sharp offense. Probably a bad idea to go in blazing from the outset, even if that made things easier. I hated tension. Eyes went from my selection and over to the techie.


    [Could I see the list?]


    ¡°Absolutely not. I suggest you keep your mind on the task at hand.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    We maintained eye contact for a few seconds before I rolled my eyes. At least with her still trying to wind me up, I believed that she didn¡¯t want any violence over the transaction. Six shots in, selectloader was full. Van closed, and she led me off. We walked along the sidewalk before turning a corner, crossing the street, and then down into the mouth of an alley.


    The smell of rotting mulch and damp, the typical overturned trashcans and discarded cardboard boxes. Dim lighting that was both comforting and unsettling at the same time. The five figures waiting around for us didn¡¯t help with the atmosphere.


    Each in dark clothing, light degrees of tactical gear, but it looked well used and off-market. Sunglasses and headwear. Two near the back with submachine guns on slings, closest one with a shotgun, the other with an assault rifle. Ringleader at the front had an eyepatch, sour expression on his heavily bearded face, and a holstered pistol.


    ¡°Who¡¯s the muscle?¡± he asked immediately, narrowing his one eye at me. Odd accent that I couldn¡¯t quite place. Not a Goldarch native.


    ¡°As a single woman, I don¡¯t make it a habit to frequent dark alleys filled with armed smugglers alone.¡± Clara crossed her arms. ¡°A bit overkill, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Valuable product requires protection.¡± He shook his head.


    The techie smiled. ¡°Exactly why he is here.¡±


    ¡°Fine. He tries anything stupid and you¡¯re both dead.¡± The man gestured to one of the covered goons, who nodded and dragged forth a wooden crate. About three feet square, looked old and any markings on the wood had long worn off.


    I chose to remain silent, partly because this was Clara¡¯s rodeo and I allowed her to take the lead. The other reason was my psyche was acting up and the four armed goons kept flickering to resemble parts of my old squad. Nothing too detailed. Just¡­ with better tactical gear. Helmets with mounted lights. Balaclavas.


    Best I not try to get involved, as I had an itchy trigger finger. Or whatever was equivalent.


    ¡°You know,¡± the leader said, as his companion stepped back away from the produced crate, ¡°they say Thissden women have the most beautiful eyes. Shame yours have been replaced by simple headlamps.¡±


    Clara raised an eyebrow. ¡°They also say you soil yourself when you die, but I¡¯d have trouble telling with you because you already reek of shit.¡±


    The man bobbed his head gently before a wide grin formed. ¡°Good. I was concerned you were a little green for this kind of gear. We also have the other package requested.¡±


    Goon returned with a second box to place on the crate, this one metal - about a foot long and half that wide. Also had some age to it.


    ¡°Sixteen grand.¡±


    The techie shook her head. ¡°We agreed on fourteen.¡±


    ¡°Fifteen and a date?¡±


    Clara rolled her eyes before shooting me a glance. I wasn¡¯t sure if that meant I had to kill these people or not. Maybe to look at her diary to see what times she had free. Suggest a good restaurant or¡­ hmm, I might be losing some of my marbles.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do you one better, smuggler.¡± She smiled. ¡°Fifteen and a business relationship. Priority over certain items if they fall into your hands, and a financial incentive to find some obscure items on my wishlist.¡±


    ¡°Shrewd.¡± The man looked between his guards, who didn¡¯t seem to move or give him any indication of anything. ¡°Alright, little lady. You have a deal. We don¡¯t often have repeat customers, but if the credits are good, we¡¯re game. You can call me Snake.¡±


    ¡°My alias is¡­¡± her green eyes narrowed as she exhaled through her nose. ¡°Mr Cock.¡±


    Snake nodded. ¡°That explains the rooster profile picture, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it is more professional to call me Rooster, then.¡± Clara maintained her gaze, trying to avoid even having me in her peripheral.


    ¡°As you wish, although you¡¯re much more of a¡­ Peahen.¡±


    The techie deflated slightly, finally turning to look at me with tired eyes. ¡°Could you kindly make the transaction¡­ Brian?¡±


    [Yes, mistress.]


    I had the pleasant feeling that she regretting dragging me out this evening, which I partially found some humor in. Of course, here I was in an alleyway full of armed black-market dealers in my slippers and signing off a chunk of money for who knows what. She made a fool out of us both, which was¡­ well, I didn¡¯t hate it, actually.


    Nice to have a result where hubris didn¡¯t end in me having a bloodied and broken body for once.


    Snake held out his wrist, and a digital transfer request popped up as a hologram. Fifteen-thousand on the dot. Swiped my own wrist over it and with a gentle beep the transaction was complete and confirmed.


    His eye looked me up and down. ¡°Interesting outfit for a bodyguard.¡±


    [I do as the mistress asks, nothing more or less.]


    ¡°I see.¡± He looked past me at the techie. ¡°Even more interesting and alluring.¡±


    Was close enough to smell the rum on him now. Some sort of mechanical grease or old oil. Close enough to kill him before any of his lackeys could raise their weapons. I paused momentarily as the shadows flickered around the alley, drawing me in like a whirlpool. Eyes blinked it away, and I gave the man a brief nod before turning away and returning to Clara.


    ¡°Alright, lads.¡± He jerked his thumb back. ¡°Looks like drinks are on me tonight, courtesy of Mr Cock.¡± Snake grimaced and glanced back our way. ¡°Until you next need me, Peahen.¡±


    My hand tensed and relaxed on repeat as the group turned and left down the darker end of the alleyway. They kept one pair of eyes on us all the way until we lost visual and their footsteps faded to nothing.


    Almost a shame I hadn¡¯t killed anyone or gotten beaten up. Felt¡­ unfulfilling.


    [Well¡­]


    ¡°Don¡¯t even, Gunquake.¡± The techie sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. ¡°I made the account when I was a teen, and it seemed like a good way to hide my identity, even if crass.¡±


    I stood in silence. Not really in judgement, I was just exhausted. Had taken a lot of willpower to just watch and not allow the shadows of my past to empty out my selectloader into our new business partners. Which¡­ I wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about having an illegal smuggling ring attached to us, but part of me could see her angle.


    Not just the shady supplies we couldn¡¯t get elsewhere, but the potential to find out about my odd tech more. Where it came from and why.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just get these boxes back to the van. Despite my inability to taste, I am not a fan of eating humble pie.¡±


    So we did just that. Didn¡¯t take us long under the cover of awkward silence to move the pair of containers back around the corner and into the back of the vehicle. Back in the seats, she started it up and we began our journey home.


    A handful of minutes passed, nothing but the humming of the van filling the silence. Lights washed over us as we turned through the dark streets. I had never been so eager to get in bed and switch my brain off. Still, some questions remained.


    [Looks like you have a new admirer.]


    ¡°As if.¡± Clara pulled a face. ¡°If I wanted to roll around with a man with an aura made of newspaper soaked with piss, then I could do a lot better than that living ashtray.¡±


    [That¡¯s quite the admonishment.]


    ¡°Out of ten, he was already in the negatives as soon as he brought up my heritage.¡± She shot me a glance. ¡°Sensitive spot for me. There¡¯s one of my secrets for you, Gunquake. Didn¡¯t even have to take any clothes off for that.¡±


    [My geography is rather poor. Thissden is from off-continent, correct?]


    ¡°Correct. My parents immigrated here when they were young and in love, for all the good that did them.¡± Her eyes dimmed. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s not something I like to talk about.¡±


    [No pressure, Clara. It¡¯s fine.]


    ¡°Thank you, Gunquake.¡± She tilted her head and gave me a soft smile. ¡°I promise you¡¯ll get the full story one day, when I¡¯m ready. His comment was because Thissden natives have iridescent eyes that often shine brightly between two or more colors.¡±


    I nodded politely. It was rare for people to travel across the continents, ever since the Weather Wars. My knowledge was spotty. Either because I couldn¡¯t remember what old me knew, or because I hadn¡¯t cared to learn much during my hitman years. Something had happened long ago that was the cause of all the land between the megacities to be the wasteland, and travel across the oceans was difficult and dangerous.


    [I¡¯m willing to ignore the fact that you¡¯re dealing with criminals in the dark-system if you tell me what exactly you just had me buy.]


    ¡°Peace of mind should be priceless.¡± She indicated and took a left turn. ¡°Are you familiar with the Krell Civil War?¡±


    [No - oh, could you pull in to this supermarket for a second?]


    With a furrowed brow, she did so, turning into their car park and stopping the vehicle. I gestured for her to continue her explanation.


    ¡°Most don¡¯t, as it was almost a decade ago, and didn¡¯t affect Goldarch in the slightest. Occasionally, their unused tech shows up on the gray markets. So after your brief bout of paranoia, I went and found us a new security system.¡±


    [What does it do differently than our current one?]


    ¡°Oh, so much.¡± She turned in her chair, energy filling her eyes. ¡°Not only does it detect movement, but it also monitors for heat signals, changes in temperature, pressure, carbon dioxide and other gases, sound vibrations, and displaced photons.¡±


    [That¡­ is impressive. Should cover most natural, tech, and super-powered stealth. What¡¯s the range?]


    ¡°Safely¡­ a little smaller than our current motion detection.¡±


    [And unsafely?]


    ¡°Up to a mile if you don¡¯t mind bleeding out of your sinuses and living five years less.¡± She grinned.


    [Are you able to set a toggle so it switches between the modes when we aren¡¯t at home?]


    ¡°Barely an inconvenience.¡±


    I went into the market solo to buy the ingredients necessary for my cooking attempt tomorrow. Roxy was right to question my ability to cook, because I didn¡¯t exactly have a lot of experience. Like¡­ any at all. This wasn¡¯t some secret innate skill I was bringing forward from my past life. I just wanted to do something normal for a change, and hopefully not poison them both.


    Got a few odd looks in the store, but thought nothing of them. My casual clothing certainly helped make me look like I belonged, even if the gun-arm and gasmask stood out.


    Back in the van and Clara insisted that I would find out that her actual gift - whatever was in the metal case - was something I could have when we got back home. I told her I¡¯d stay outside while she set up the new security machine to be safe, which she appreciated.


    And one rather gloomy ride through the darkness, and we were doing just that.


    Crate out onto the gravel just beside the garden. Metal box on top of it and the techie beamed at me. Gestured for me to open it.


    Left hand popped the metal clasps, and I removed the lid. Moonlight picked up the edges of the small squares within. I gingerly grasped one and drew it up into the air.


    [These are¡­ stims?]


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky, Gunquake. Turns out the Krellians also had the same port structure as you use as their default. I practically screamed when I saw these pop up alongside the security system.¡±


    I looked back down and ran a finger across the edges of them. There were¡­ a lot in there. Maybe forty, eyeballing it. Enough for months of rough combat - longer if we had a break now and again.


    [Worth every credit spent, then. You know the ingredients?]


    ¡°They are specifically for combat. The usual painkillers, adrenaline, performance enhancers. You know how you occasionally broke your old stims to flood your system with an overload? These have a last-ditch function built in. Two, in fact. One to keep you fighting, and one that focuses on post-battle healing.¡±


    [I am impressed, Clara.]


    ¡°Here, let me put one in for you now.¡± She took it from my hand and I turned my head so that she could get at my neck. ¡°I only gave you a hard time earlier about it because you do need to be smarter with your mortality, Gunquake.¡±


    [There¡¯s a lot more for me to live for now, isn¡¯t there?]


    She plucked the old stim pack out and held onto my arm so that she could lean closer and get the pins of the new one lined up. ¡°You die and break Rockslide¡¯s heart, and I¡¯ll find a way to bring you back to life so that I can kill you myself.¡±


    [Couldn¡¯t you just bring me back and keep me alive and then everyone would be happy?]


    ¡°I was just assuming I¡¯d be an insane, evil scientist at that point.¡± The pack clicked into place, and she closed the clasps over it before moving away.


    A residual amount of the magical liquid entered my system, and I sighed, relaxing.


    ¡°Although you didn¡¯t get injured today, there is still a lot of internal damage you are recovering from. These should help with that.¡± She smiled and tapped her hand on the top of the crate. ¡°Now watch over me while I set this beast up.¡±


    Either the exhaustion from the day, or the soft feeling of the painkillers numbing me slightly, made the process go by quickly. I kept as good an eye as I could on the surroundings, but at night time I might as well have had my eyes closed - which would be nice.


    Could see Roxy¡¯s bedroom window, or¡­ our bedroom window, and the light was on. I was eager to get up there and pass out beside her.


    ¡°All done, Gunquake.¡± Clara stepped back from the device, which was a red box with five sharp legs dug into the ground, and a whole host of buttons and dials that she covered with a flap of metal. ¡°I have set your bedroom, the bathroom, workshop, and the basement as normally having varying increases in body temperature and carbon dioxide. Rest of the house is low or infrequent change. Just for alarm purposes.¡±


    [Oh. Workshop for when you start fabricating things and using machinery?]


    She held a blank stare for a few seconds. ¡°Sure.¡±


    Good enough answer for me. I nodded and gestured for us to go inside. Escaping the fresh hum of the old machine, I escorted her into the safety of our home. At the top of the stairs, she thanked me for humoring her this evening, which I quickly waved off so that I could escape to the bedroom. Door closed, and I looked over at the super.


    Bedside table lamp on, she was lying on the bed in pajamas, a laptop resting on her and illuminating¡­ rectangle glasses sitting on the end of her nose.


    [Reading glasses?]


    ¡°Idiot, I can¡¯t read.¡± She stuck her tongue out at me. ¡°Actually, it¡¯s even worse. I don¡¯t need them, but wearing them while I go through my social media posts gives me a false sense of superiority so that I don¡¯t feel the need to get upset and reply to all these assholes.¡±


    [That bad is it?]


    ¡°I swear, Dubs. If I have to read ¡®muscle mommy¡¯ one more time, I¡¯ll¡­ do some violence.¡±


    I removed my shirt and slippers and got on the bed beside her. Glasses came off, and she gave me a series of kisses along my shoulder and chest. My eyes narrowed as I squished into her so that I could read some of the messages.


    [Does it give you the information on where these people live?]


    She smiled and pushed me away. ¡°You¡¯re not going and beating up everyone who makes a disparaging comment about me, Dubs.¡±


    [Not tonight, no. It¡¯s been¡­ a day.]


    ¡°Sure has.¡± Roxy closed down the laptop and slid it down the side of the bed. She turned back to me, holding up the shotgun cozy. ¡°Better wear protection, huh? ...Kinda a weird joke to make after what we discussed earlier.¡±


    [Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it wasn¡¯t easy.]


    ¡°I think beating you to death was probably the most difficult thing I¡¯ll ever do, emotionally. Being open with you kinda pales in comparison to that.¡± She gave me a soft smile, covering my weapon with the soft case. Once complete, she drew me in closer for a hug. ¡°We¡¯ve been going non-stop for days. Let¡¯s just be lazy as fuck tomorrow, yeah?¡±


    [A day off sounds like bliss. We should take the time to enjoy the fruits of our labor and plan our next steps.]


    ¡°I¡¯m going to¡­ enjoy spending time with you.¡± Her fiery eyes closed.


    [There is just one problem, however.]


    ¡°Hmm?¡± The super didn¡¯t open her eyes, but moved her face closer to mine.


    [I¡¯m going to cook everyone breakfast tomorrow.]


    ¡°Oh,¡± she whispered. ¡°Oh no.¡±

 67 - Laid to Rest

    Sweat ran from my brow. An odd amount of unease ran through me as my knuckles whitened. As much as I prided myself on being able to take heat and pressure, this fresh new hell I¡¯d put myself in hadn¡¯t been easy on me. Still, I¡¯d persist and survive. It was what I was good at.


    Turned the stove off and took a deep breath. Now I knew why Roxy had awoken me in such a state when she was preparing for the housewarming party. Being unable to taste the food was quite a predicament, although one of my apprehensive guinea pigs couldn¡¯t taste either. They were waiting patiently in the lounge as I requested them to - and hadn¡¯t even come to peek, even after I knocked some glass to the floor.


    After five years as a killer for hire, I never really saw my lack of a right arm as a disability. It was certainly an inconvenience, but having the tool of my trade bolted to me at all times had some advantages. Now thoroughly dipped in a more normal existence, I was starting to come across activities where a long metal barrel and V-Force drive didn¡¯t really cut it.


    Still, my mission was complete.


    Balanced both plates across my left hand and forearm. Allowed myself one last sigh before heading out of the warm kitchen. Across the lobby and into the lounge.


    Two pairs of eyes were on me immediately, expectant glamor behind them. We were all wearing tank tops and shorts - a coincidence; I was assured, but an odd look for techie who was usually more wrapped up. Hers were matching dark grays; the super had a black top and light gray shorts, and mine were both white. Not really an important part of our day, but I was trying to eke out as many microseconds before giving them the food as possible.


    ¡°Smells great, Dubs.¡± Roxy smiled, eager to be the first to receive my fare. And she would, partly because she was closest, and partly so that I didn¡¯t drop the plates trying to hand them over.


    [Pancakes. For you Roxy, I have drizzled chocolate sauce on them and included two scoops of mint choc chip ice-cream.]


    She took the plate, her eyebrows raised. ¡°I am impressed.¡±


    [And for you Clara, I have made your pancakes slightly thicker, and there is a caramel wafer between them.]


    The techie nodded and took the plate, a little more apprehensive than the super.


    [Now I will stand here awkwardly and await your judgement. Be as harsh as necessary so that I may improve in the future.]


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ amazing.¡±


    I raised my eyebrow at Roxy, who had somehow managed to get through half of her breakfast already - using the fork to scoop the pancakes whole rather than cut them up.


    [It meets your expectations?]


    ¡°So, pancakes are pretty simple - and I¡¯m not saying that to bust your balls - but you got everything right with how they taste. What really does it though is the warm chocolate and ice-cream.¡± She shook her head, still chewing through the food. ¡°Divine, Dubs. Five stars.¡±


    Although I felt that I could put a damp newspaper on a plate next to her favorite ice-cream and she¡¯d lap it up, I decided to take the compliment. I turned my eyes to Clara, who had been cutting a small triangle from her meal. Fork pierced the desired piece, and she lifted it up.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you are aware that I am near impossible to please, Gunquake.¡± Her eyes went from the morsel to me. ¡°At least in a culinary sense. So please do take any lack of compliment as a slight on your efforts.¡±


    [Naturally. I appreciate you giving it a chance.]


    She put it in her mouth and chewed, while Roxy and I waited with bated breath.


    ¡°Texture is¡­ smoother than bread. Soft and springy. The wafer is more brittle than toast, but makes for a surprisingly apt substitution.¡± She started to cut a second triangle. ¡°Sister, could you taste a piece and give your verdict on that side of things?¡±


    Roxy didn¡¯t need asking twice, and her fork had already darted across to the techie¡¯s plate as soon as the segment of pancake had been separated from the whole. Straight into her mouth.


    ¡°Hmm. Definitely leans more on the cake side of pancake, but it¡¯s cooked well. Caramel wafer compliments the¡­ is that vanilla flavoring you put in the batter for hers?¡± An eyebrow raised.


    [That is correct.]


    ¡°Even though she wouldn¡¯t have been able to taste it¡­¡± she turned to look at the techie, who was putting more of the pancake in her mouth.


    ¡°I recommend making Gunquake our husband before somebody else claims him,¡± Clara advised.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already claimed him, you gremlin. What do you mean our husband?¡± She scowled, but was soon too distracted by finishing off her own food.


    The techie smiled. ¡°I appreciate the lengths you went to accommodate my quirks, Gunquake. That level of thoughtfulness further solidifies our eventual merging into one being. I will finish the pancakes not out of politeness, but because they are a close second to my beloved bread.¡±


    [I will choose to ignore the troubling half of that sentence, and just feel glad that you didn¡¯t dislike it.]


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Roxy interrupted, ¡°you really knocked it out of the park, Dubs. Thank you for this.¡±


    ¡°Makes me wonder what else you could convince me to put in my mouth, Gunquake.¡±


    The super glared at her. ¡°How about we quit the horny for one day? Okay?¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Clara rolled her eyes. ¡°Thank you though, Gunquake.¡±


    [My pleasure. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me I need to go tidy up.]


    Roxy stood up. ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll help.¡± Her plate was emptied already. ¡°It¡¯s the least I could do, and I wouldn¡¯t want you to get your barrel wet.¡±


    Clara stifled a comment as we left the room, following slightly behind so she wasn¡¯t left out.


    [I swept the glass into the corner there, but there wasn¡¯t an easy way for me to dispose of it.]


    ¡°Let me handle it.¡± Her hand ran across my back as she stepped past. ¡°At least it¡¯s in one place. Stepped in some glass out in the garden the other day. For some reason, I want to blame Roy for that.¡±


    [Didn¡¯t hurt you though?]


    ¡°Nah. Not even a cut, really. Super strength is weird like that in some ways. Like clearly it affects my muscles, so you might think I could bite though¡­ steel or concrete - but my teeth would shatter just like yours would. Well, not yours specifically, Dubs.¡±


    I watched her withdraw a small dustpan from one of the cupboards I didn¡¯t check through, and she swept the glass into it. After giving the techie a brief glance - as she was now sitting on a stool - my brain finally rolled around to some of my overdue tasks.


    [Speaking of that¡­ we should discuss my future mouth.]


    While she stood and looked around for something to put the shards of glass in, I hit the taps to fill the sink with hot water. There was a bubble juice here specifically for dirty dishes. Lucky things.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to say that you want the real-skin type. Go all out, right?¡± She gave me a side-eye, perhaps hoping I¡¯d settle for less to save our bank accounts and her wanting lips.


    [Correct.]


    ¡°I mean, I¡¯d rather kiss something that felt real rather than something metallic or synthetic.¡± She pulled a face, disposing of the glass. ¡°But that¡¯s a selfish take, as it¡¯s your face, Dubs.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re likely to have Dr Jarl in our back pocket eventually,¡± Clara offered. ¡°I have heard¡ªand based on my interview¡ªthat he is quite straight-edged and proper, so it might take me a while to bend him towards doing work on you.¡±


    [I wouldn¡¯t want to jeopardize your education by seeming like we are fishing for favors.]


    Her description of him made it seem as though he wouldn¡¯t want to give handouts to a once-illegal murderous cyborg. Just so that I could kiss. The question-mark beside his name on my list of potential contacts from my previous life grew fainter, but I wouldn¡¯t entirely write him off yet. Too early and too few answers to discount anyone, no matter how innocent they seemed.


    ¡°Of course, Gunquake. We¡¯re on the same page. I actually have a meeting with him tomorrow, as he is keen to get me up to speed.¡± She smiled and handed me her empty plate. ¡°It feels nice to have someone be able to see my ambition and talent, compared to the League.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still on sick leave,¡± Roxy added, taking the plate from me and putting it in the sink, ¡°waiting for the League to tell me it¡¯s work time. So maybe tomorrow we¡¯ll start some training together.¡± Her eyes left me to glance at the techie, perhaps expecting her to come in with a smart comment, but Clara just maintained a pleasant smile toward us both.


    [I¡¯ll help you work on your lava powers. Probably not too close to the house. Oh, I had a question for you, Clara.]


    Her eyebrows raised, and she gave me a nod to continue.


    [The tech we acquired last night was Krellian based. Is there a chance that any other parts of my cybernetics came from the Krell Civil War, or that some of my history could be linked there?]


    She tilted her head from side to side in consideration. ¡°Unlikely. The Krell didn¡¯t have cybernetics, as such. I believe that port variant was imported technology for them as well, and they had a more basic installation where it was directly affixed to their hearts through their chest.¡±


    Roxy tilted her head back as she washed the plates up. ¡°Aren¡¯t they like¡­ originally of draconic descent? And they used to eat people?¡±


    ¡°To a degree.¡± Clara smiled. ¡°They have a lizard-esque heritage and appearance, but their barbarism and consumption of other humanoids is slightly exaggerated.¡±


    [Only slightly?]


    ¡°Several small sects practiced this, however after their civil war, Krellian numbers were so splintered and few that the World Government were able to finally get a foothold and iron out such detriments to greater society.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    [That is pretty comprehensive.]


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d end up asking about it, so did a few hours of research last night before sleep.¡±


    [Are you sure you can¡¯t read my thoughts?]


    Clara grinned and stood from the stool. ¡°Perhaps you should work on being less predicatable, Gunquake? I don¡¯t know what you lovebirds have planned for your rest day, but I¡¯m going to get the workshop prepared for the computer delivery later.¡±


    The super rolled her eyes and watched the techie leave the kitchen. Last of the washing up done, she dried her hands up and then turned to me. Stepped forward and brought me in for a hug, her hands snaking up the back of my top so she could grip at my back.


    ¡°You exceeded my expectations this morning, although you do have a tendency to excel at everything you do.¡± Her fiery eyes narrowed as she smiled at me.


    [It was an agonizing process. I¡¯m never cooking again.]


    ¡°Asshole,¡± she sighed and leaned her head on me, ¡°that better be a lie. What did you want to get up to today?¡±


    [It¡¯s a nice day out. Might soak up some sun. Get rid of the kill-room as we could use that space for something more useful in the future.]


    ¡°Hmm, I¡¯ll help with that. I can already hear you planning new ways to train, or other buildings. Sunbathing sounds nice too. Perhaps I can equalize out some of my pale parts.¡±


    Given that was everything except her arms and neck upward, I wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d make much of a dent on the tan lines with one afternoon. Still, I wasn¡¯t going to stop her from trying, considering that it was our rest day¡­ as much as that sounded like the exact day that violence would come knocking.


    [Perhaps I will join you in that once my other tasks are complete.]


    ¡°It¡¯s not quite a beach episode, but I have a bikini I¡¯ve never worn, and the wasteland is sandy enough.¡± She wrinkled up her face as she released her grasp of me and stepped back. ¡°I reckon things are going to get a lot more intense over the next couple of weeks, so today let¡¯s live like we have no problems.¡±


    [Sounds like a dream, Roxy. I¡¯ll just switch my canister and I¡¯ll meet you outside.]


    She gave me a nod, a quick kiss on my re-breather, and then went upstairs to get changed.


    Once alone, I sighed and got a chilled canister from the small freezer. Stims had done some good work overnight, and I felt almost back to peak form already. Had allowed me to sleep easily, and dreamless. Wasn¡¯t sure why I had the aptitude to make decent pancakes on my first try - assuming that it was. I didn¡¯t know what I was doing for most part, only following instructions from my wrist STAR device.


    Not that I was complaining. It was nice to receive praise for something that didn¡¯t involve blowing the brains out of the back of someone¡¯s skull.


    Despite this domestic bliss... I did miss the more violent options, however.


    I lived an undeserving life up until this point, and while it had been a comfort to enjoy companionship and peace, I knew it wouldn¡¯t last. Could feel the vultures circling overhead. I was living on borrowed time, but enjoying every sip.


    My eyes watched the last of the suds spiral from the sink and down the drain. Did I really have time to rest? I could be out there killing¡­ oh, I didn¡¯t really have any targets. My left hand flexed open and closed as I considered the fact that I was free and untethered to Boss¡­ and thus from the life of a killer, if I so chose.


    Gaze went back over to the lobby as the super came down the stairs. Some awkwardness on her normally confident face, not used to wearing anything so revealing outside the privacy of her own room. Not that I considered we had many eyes on us out here in the outskirts, but it was always her worry.


    ¡°You okay, Dubs? Cold feet about going outside?¡± Her expression signaled that¡¯s exactly what she had going on - although me standing in place when I said I¡¯d meet her outside was perhaps concerning.


    [Wow. I mean, no, I¡¯m fine.]


    She waved her hands at me. Her plain black bikini suited her figure and wasn¡¯t especially salacious, but she blushed at my brief compliment. ¡°You know how I am about my body image. I feel like I¡¯m going out to do a bodybuilding competition.¡±


    [Well, I¡¯ll be first in line to oil you up.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes, but smiled. ¡°Get your ass outside already. I¡¯m going to make a cocktail. Maybe it¡¯ll take the edge of my dumb nerves. Shame I can¡¯t make you one - you mind asking Clara if she wants a drink?¡±


    [Of course, allow me. They do make alcoholic canisters, but based on a sample size of one, I was not a fan.]


    She stepped into the kitchen as I went to leave, pausing and slightly blocking my way. ¡°If you get a mouth, will it also fix your eating and drinking? I have this odd urge to just shovel so many different food types down you since you haven¡¯t eaten in years.¡±


    [Unknown. Roxy, I¡­ have considered getting a new arm in the future as well.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± Her eyebrows raised. ¡°What brought that on?¡±


    Many things, really. The realization that I wasn¡¯t tied to being a tool of murder meant that having a shotgun permanently affixed wasn¡¯t useful most of the time. There was the point that I could get a better weapon attachment than a pump-action shotgun. Given that I would need the whole arm replaced¡­ I could even get something real-skin or similar. Have a hand again for holding tools of destruction.


    [Mostly so that I could hold you.]


    ¡°You¡¯re a terrible liar, Dubs. Can see it in those big greens.¡± Her expression softened. ¡°Too full of optimism, as well. None of us has the income to fund all these projects at the pace you¡¯re coming up with them. Your stash will only last so long with Clara¡¯s education and the workshop. I can wait for however long it takes - I love you. Just¡­ one step at a time.¡±


    [Understood. I am just used to getting what I want, when I want it.]


    She ran her tongue across her lips. ¡°Outside, now. Before you cause a situation.¡±


    I smiled with my eyes, which she could read. Took my leave and left the house, out into the warm morning. Stepped across the soft grass and took my tank top off to throw on my deckchair. I could live in the light. Eyes went over to my old shack. Soon to be a pile of metal scrap that could join the stack of ruined bikes¡­ hmm. The fact that we had a shallow grave just outside our property was something to address soon.


    Sounded like Clara was in the larger workshop, so I went over there and knocked on the open door. She was crouched down by the storage area, sorting through a box. She had gotten changed as well, but had switched to a long flannel shirt beneath her gray dungarees.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Her green eyes switched to me as she closed the case, running me up and down. ¡°You should give me more warning, Gunquake.¡±


    [That¡¯s what the knocking was for. Roxy wants to know if you¡¯d like a cocktail?]


    ¡°That sort of day, is it?¡± The techie tilted her head. ¡°Just the one then. I don¡¯t want to be a stick in the mud. She knows how I like them - I¡¯m quite the lightweight, Gunquake¡­ and it would be beneficial I kept my wits about me.¡±


    [With the new computers and workshop things that need sorting?]


    ¡°For at least a dozen reasons. We also need to have a serious discussion about what to outfit the workshop with. Doing that before we imbibe alcohol might be better for your bank balance.¡± She stood up and wiped her hands off on her clothes. ¡°In saying that, you cannot partake, I assume.¡±


    I shook my head.


    ¡°A basic canister fabricator would set you back eighty thousand, plus there¡¯s the consumable cost of the canisters themselves. However, they can be reused with a recycler, which is ten thousand credits, and would become money saving at about three and half years in.¡±


    [It was inevitable that you had already done your research.]


    She grinned and shrugged. ¡°Much like you must always win, Gunquake, I must always know. Our own fabricator would mean we could make cocktail canisters, or even something with a broken down pancake in them. There wouldn¡¯t be the same kind of taste as eating¡­ but it¡¯s something to consider.¡±


    [We have a computer and the necessary tech to run tests on items. Enough stims for months of me getting into trouble. I suppose the next thing you¡¯ll suggest is a shotgun shell machine?]


    ¡°On the same page once again.¡± She gestured to a space against the side wall. ¡°It is the most beneficial to your work that we have a way to create new cartridges in-house, and allows us to lean into some of the less-legal ammunition types I¡¯ve been designing.¡±


    [Did you say less-lethal or less-legal? Actually, I''ll just assume it¡¯s the latter. What will that set us back?]


    ¡°Unfortunately, although the machine itself isn¡¯t as high tech as the other things we are acquiring, there is a lot of red tap and a license that must be procured to make ammunition - I¡¯m sure you can imagine.¡±


    [So when do you hear back about the license you''ve definitely already applied for?]


    Clara crossed her arms and grinned. ¡°Although I have sworn not to flirt with you today, I truly appreciate you, Gunquake. Sometime between not soon enough, and just in the nick of time, I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    [Perfect. I want you to buy both things, and look into some cheap prefabs buildings for dedicated storage.]


    The techie nodded, but hesitated. ¡°I have put my city apartment up for sale, and¡­ would like some of the eventual proceeds to go toward all of this.¡±


    Standing in the doorway still, I mulled this over. While part of me saw this as all benefitting myself, in truth, this was all our livelihoods. All laying the foundation for our success as superheros aiming to be¡­ well, just better, for starters.


    [As you see fit, Clara. I trust your judgement.]


    She seemed relieved by my acceptance and nodded at me as I left. Back over the garden and I popped my head through the door to give the drink information over to the super. Without the ability to taste, she apparently preferred it as soft as possible with twice the amount of ice. No need for most of the mixers.


    While I waited for her outside, she first brought the coffee table from the lounge out to place between the deckchairs. Then returning after with the two drinks. Clara emerged from the workshop, and after at first being surprised at Roxy¡¯s choice of outfit, shrugged it off and sat at the end of my deckchair to sip at her drink.


    ¡°I do have sun cream,¡± the super offered, ¡°but probably better for after we sort your shack out. Don¡¯t want all the gross dust to stick to us.¡±


    [It¡¯s probably a health hazard.]


    ¡°Right? Will be nice to not have that in our line of sight anymore, though. It¡¯s like a¡­ lingering reminder of the miserable life you had before.¡±


    She was entirely correct. Although it might be handy to use it for something, it held too many memories of me wasting away injured, awaiting more contracts to repeat the process. I was energetic and living now. The small metal box was a tomb in the making, and I wasn¡¯t quite ready to die just yet.


    [Although I do adore watching you throw things hundreds of feet away, I think breaking it down into nothing would be more cathartic.]


    Disassemble that old life.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get it over with.¡± Roxy placed her glass down on the table. ¡°Soon as possible, so that I can just be a zombie. We should pick up some garden furniture sometime.¡±


    ¡°Consider it done.¡± Clara smiled and kicked off her trainers as she watched us walk over to the lot where my small house stood.


    The super stopped beside it and put her hands on her hips, pulling a face at the drab metal. ¡°How¡¯d you want to approach this, Dubs?¡±


    [Following behind you was a rather positive experience.]


    She turned her head and scowled at me. ¡°Don¡¯t make me hit you with the no-flirting rule, too.¡±


    [Aw. No shared bath later either?]


    ¡°I¡¯m not a monster, Dubs. That does seem to be our thing, huh?¡±


    It was. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was because she had told me that it would change my life, or that I now paired the event with my recovery after she had rescued me that one time¡­ but pleasant memories seemed to crop up around those bubbles and I was happy enough for that to continue.


    [If you just take the front off, the roof, walls, and then the floor - perhaps just throw them over to the scrap bikes?]


    Roxy wrinkled up her face as she looked over at the wreckage off to the side of my plot of land. ¡°Can do, Dubs.¡± She gestured for me to step back, and I did so.


    A couple of steps over to the corner of the building and she gripped at the edge with her hands. Muscles tightened and rippled as she pulled back, tearing the joined parts away, stepping across in a line as she continued to strip the front wall completely off, exposing the interior of the kill-room to the sunlight.


    It was fascinating watching her strength at work, how her very real musculature moved, even though it was empowered with unnatural strength. Most impressive is that she was being slow and careful - if she really wanted to, she could have ripped it apart like paper. Didn¡¯t want to tire herself out or cause any collateral damage, however.


    I glanced over at the techie, who seemed to be focused on her own intangible STAR windows as she idly drank from what was probably mostly melted ice at this stage. Turned back just as Roxy spun the first wall out across the ground, the metal bouncing before grinding to a halt just by the wrecked motorbikes.


    ¡°How¡¯s it feel, seeing it all come apart?¡± she asked, as she stepped inside the opening to start popping the roof off.


    Felt like the end of an era. My nest of misery brought into the daylight just as I had been, to melt away and become no more. I couldn¡¯t deny my past - that I was still a killer, but now I at least had balance. Could be an even better killer.


    [Third best sight of the day.]


    Roxy flipped me off before finalizing the removal of the roof, arms outstretch to push it from the attachments to the walls. Cables snapped and crackled as the electric allowing the light and security traps were torn apart alongside the wide metal panel. She turned and threw it; the debris striking the pile of metal directly and knocking a couple of bikes down.


    The rest of the walls came down in short order, a swift kick breaking apart the corners of the singular room, leaving the panels to drop to the ground and flood the area with a shallow cloud of dried dust. Each one was then tossed across to join the others.


    ¡°I think you¡¯ll owe me one for this, Dubs.¡± Roxy pulled a face. ¡°If I¡¯m sick tomorrow from all this old grime and shit from you living here, then I¡¯ll kick your ass.¡±


    [Oh, how rude of me. Would you like to borrow my gas-mask?]


    Her burning eyes narrowed. ¡°Definitely owe me a favor.¡±


    I¡¯m sure there were worse things than owing the super an ominous and vague favor. Probably wouldn¡¯t be something today, anyway. Once we were done here, it would be time to lie in the sun and pretend my hitman life was just another bad dream.


    Roxy grunted as her fingers dug underneath the floor of the building, and gradually she pulled the foundations up. Dirt and amber rock cracked and split, the clatter of pebbles raining down around the shadowed area as she lifted the whole floor up - turning and throwing it toward the rest of the rubbish.


    I stepped over to the square patch where my sadness-box used to be.


    ¡°Dubs¡­¡± A scowl deepened on her face as she also focused on the ground. ¡°What the fuck is that?¡±


    [Looks like¡­ a coffin.]

 68 - Left Unharmed

    In some ways this was my penance. I knew that I couldn¡¯t get away with murder for so long, even though I was discounting the several times I had almost died. A wholehearted attempt at having a peaceful day of rest and enjoying the company I now kept couldn''t go unchallenged.


    Now ruined, as I felt any energy completely drain from my body.


    The three of us stood around the square shape of dirt that was a different color than that around it. Partly because it had¡ªuntil very recently¡ªbeen beneath my shack of five years. The other reason was due to a chunk of it being a wooden coffin. As decrepit as something so long lost in the dark could be. A thought that itched like a maggot across the mirror of self-reflection.


    ¡°Is it a bomb or something?¡± Roxy¡¯s face was a picture of apprehensive concern. ¡°I could just chuck it?¡±


    Clara shook her head. ¡°It could be something biological. For example, if Gunquake¡¯s kill-switch wasn¡¯t functional, a gas could be pumped up through the floor.¡±


    ¡°To knock him out?¡±


    ¡°I suppose? I¡¯d go for something that permeates the skin, breaks you down at the cellular level. Eventually our dear Gunquake would end up a mask and shotgun amidst a puddle of his former self.¡±


    The super scowled at the woman. ¡°Damn it, Clara. Do you not have some scans or something that can pick out what is inside?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing worrying that Erin has picked up.¡± She jerked her thumb back at our Krellian defense technology - which seemed to have a name now.


    Roxy turned to me. ¡°Are you alright, Dubs? You¡¯ve been really quiet.¡±


    I had, and perhaps for good reason. Whatever was inside that coffin had been laying beneath where I had slept the past five years. First question in my mind was why? Even if it was a bomb or some alternative way for Boss to get rid of me, why did he choose a coffin, of all things?


    It could just be something simple and unrelated to me. A rival that Boss had offed or a rogue Agent that he needed to hide somewhere. There was no easy way for me to have gotten to the coffin other than tearing the building away, so it can¡¯t have been something I was meant to have easy access to - like an emergency get-out-of-Goldarch bag.


    At the end of the day, they were waiting for me to weigh in and make a decision. I had become owner of the casket by nature of prolonged proximity.


    [Not entirely, no. I think we should open it, however.]


    Waiting was just burning a hole in my stomach lining as I filled with bile.


    ¡°Okay¡­ I¡¯ll do it though. Clara, you might want to move back and prepare for the worst. Or something bad, at least.¡±


    While the techie was a fountain of ideas and competencies, she was rather fragile. Assuming Roxy held her breath, then between us we should be able to weather anything that had been laying dormant for so long.


    The super stepped gingerly to the far end of the sunken coffin. I stood at the opposite end just in case it was a cyber-vampire or other undead. Not that I was armed. Clara had run over to the van, jumping in the vehicle for protection - the buzz of her drone coming over to us so that she wouldn¡¯t miss out on the reveal.


    Roxy leaned slightly forward, her fingers flexing as her toes gripped at the loose gravel. Burning eyes went up to me as she tried to calm her own nerves. ¡°Say when ready.¡±


    I allowed myself a long sigh, and nodded.


    [Open it up.]


    Bent her knees, hands clasped around the edges of the lid. Took a brief second to tense up and then she lifted it, the pop of a seal long dried bringing with it a wave of dust as she shunted the wooden lid off to the side.


    No immediate death or assault.


    As the faint cloud of light debris filtered away, I stepped closer and looked inside.


    Body temperature plummeted, and air caught in my lungs. Roxy stared with confusion, tongue caught in her mouth. I wavered as if I were about to tip and fall into the open grave.


    Fitting, considering what lay within, was an arm.


    My arm.


    What was left of it, anyway. Fragments of bone split into several pieces, some of it even missing, all sitting in a darkened patch on the base of the coffin. Arranged in a row as if the arm had been reassembled.


    ¡°Is that your¡­ why would they¡­?¡± Roxy¡¯s voice sounded distant. An echo that I could barely focus on.


    Couldn¡¯t even move. I was frozen, just staring at it¡­ recalling the dreams I¡¯d have of being two-handed and the bastard thing was only just outside of my grasp. I didn¡¯t know if that was irony, or just plain fucked up.


    I was unsure how to process this.


    Felt a hand come through and hold mine, the soft grip of the techie¡¯s other hand placed on my upper arm.


    ¡°You¡¯re dissociating, Gunquake. Focus on your breathing and look at me.¡±


    Despite the draw of my skeletal right arm, I managed to peel my eyes away to look at the her. The bright green light of her cybernetics was diminished by the clear worry on her face. Still, it had an effect and the breath I had been holding rattled through my re-breather.


    [Was this something on the approved list?]


    She grinned, giving my hand a squeeze before she relinquished her hold and stepped away. ¡°It was the quickest way to ground you with something familiar. Don¡¯t get any ideas, Gunquake.¡±


    ¡°What list?¡± Roxy asked, a frown across her face.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take our future husband over to sit down. It would be best if we cover that so that I can have a proper look later, without troubling Gunquake any longer.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s¡­ too much in that sentence for me to respond to right now.¡± She shook her head, gaze returning to the contents of the casket. ¡°It looks like the hand is holding something.¡±


    The pair of us paused after a few steps away, to look back at the super. Clara pushed me to continue, acting as if she could body-block me from approaching again. ¡°Well, pluck it out then, sister.¡±


    ¡°Fucking hate the undead,¡± Roxy griped, but stepped around. Continued grumbling something I didn¡¯t catch as we were too far away.


    Sat down on the deck chair just as the doctor ordered. She placed her palm on my forehead.


    [Monitor doesn¡¯t read my temperature?]


    Her eyes softened. ¡°Trust me, Gunquake. Technology isn¡¯t everything.¡±


    [Who are you and what have you done with Clara?]


    ¡°See, that¡¯s the response I was after.¡± Her hand removed from me and she wiped it off on her dungarees. ¡°Monitor can give hints that you might be suffering from trauma, but a direct diagnosis can be clearer.¡±


    [And the verdict?]


    ¡°Immediate response has calmed, although you¡¯ll likely need to fully decompress from the event. At present, you are probably more worked up about the thought that there might not have been a list at all.¡±


    I looked at the super who was now crouched at the edge of the coffin, face wrinkled up at the prospect of having to put her hand inside and move my once hand to see what secrets it had been buried with.


    [There was space enough for the both of us in the coffin if Roxy truly didn¡¯t know.]


    Clara sat down beside me on the deckchair to watch proceedings. ¡°You must remember you are in a dangerous game between myself and Rockslide. Is there a list? She will deny it as much as I will affirm it. What kind of risks are you willing to take, Gunquake?¡±


    [Normally I¡¯d play along and have a good answer for that. My heart isn¡¯t in it at present.]


    She placed her hand on my gun-arm. ¡°Nice to be reminded we are human after all sometimes, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Although she had a point, any emotional energy I had was spent. After the tactical gear we found yesterday, I had taken a lot of damage straight to the brain. I¡¯d gone from being physically beaten to death every other day, to having a psychic gut-punch that left me feeling almost as bad.


    Roxy twitched and squirmed, before her arm darted out of the coffin holding something.


    ¡°Ugh.¡± She shuddered and immediately set off up to us in the garden. ¡°I know that¡¯s part of you, Dubs¡­ but that just makes it even more creepy. No offense.¡±


    [I am beyond the capacity for taking offense.]


    ¡°Intrusive thoughts have me wanting to test that, but instead¡­¡± she dangled the item retrieve from my death grip. ¡°What do you think? Looks like a key, right?¡±


    It did. Something rather plain and generic - although I wasn¡¯t sure what I had expected. Certainly¡­ none of this, really.


    ¡°Here, sister. Sit with Gunquake and keep him settled. I will go investigate the coffin.¡±


    The narrowed eyes from the super were probably over the fact that the techie could have completed the key retrieval instead. The wry smile on Clara¡¯s face as she left determined that she knew that fully well.


    Roxy sat down on my left side, her hand resting on my arm. She deflated and leaned her head onto my shoulder. ¡°Just can¡¯t catch a break, can we?¡±


    I watched as Clara tapped her temple and her eyes turned from green to a brighter neutral light. She then wrinkled up her face before gently stepping down into the coffin, crouching half obscured from us now as she got a closer look.


    [Honestly, I am at a loss for words.]


    There was no vision or flashback to the time when I had lost it. No accompanying panic or swirling doubts over my past. Just a sinking feeling, something sickening. An insult.


    ¡°That¡¯ll be a first.¡± She gave my arm a squeeze. ¡°Is there anything I can do?¡±


    [Not right now, but a massage a little later would hit the spot.]


    She sat back up and smiled at me. ¡°You want to continue as if nothing happened?¡±


    [It¡¯s been there for over five years. It can wait one more day to be addressed.]


    Part of accepting the strength of companionship and a brighter life was knowing when to tell the reaching claws of darkness to fuck off. If I allowed my past to muddy my every waking day whenever it felt like it, I would become tethered to that grim shadow and all this that I had fought for would slowly sink down with me under the surface.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Clara hopped out of the casket and switched her eyes back to green before stepping back over to us. Her usual neutral face, although she seemed content enough with her investigation. ¡°My forensic skills are rather rudimentary, Gunquake, but do you have any questions?¡±


    Just the one, really.


    [Do you think it was necessary to replace my arm?]


    She nodded. ¡°Unequivocally. There are three major breaks along the arm. The one at the highest point indicates it was separated from the shoulder joint with great force. It was likely exploded off of you.¡±


    I grunted and nodded in return. Not exactly a comforting thought, but I was¡­ satisfied enough that Boss didn¡¯t give me a new arm just for the fun of it. Lower face was still a question mark, and the coffin hadn¡¯t held my lower jaw. Thinking about that wasn¡¯t helping my rest-day mood, however.


    [It¡¯s against the nature of a rest day, but I feel like I need violence to blow off some steam.]


    ¡°I¡¯ll spar with you, Gunquake?¡± Clara smiled and put her hands in her dungarees pockets.


    Roxy groaned. ¡°If that¡¯s happening, then I¡¯m going to need more alcohol. Don¡¯t come crying to me when Dubs has you bent over backwards and¡­ like as in broken spine.¡± She sighed and stood up. ¡°Just don¡¯t kill her, Dubs. I would miss her sometimes.¡±


    I watched the super leave, only partly because she looked embarrassed. Eyes back to the expectant techie, I raised an eyebrow.


    [Does the League teach you some self defense or similar?]


    ¡°Not really, no. I sparred with Rockslide once, but she broke my wrist and never recovered from the guilt.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be gentle with me.¡±


    Although Clara was built like she was made out of paper, it might do her some good to have a few basic skills. While she wouldn¡¯t be able to hold her own against a super, some firearm and melee knowledge would give her a chance against normal opponents until Roxy or I could come and kick the shit out of whomever dared.


    [Fine. Do you have a knife handy?]


    The techie dug around in her pockets before bringing out a foldable knife. She flicked it out, the sharp blade catching the sunlight. ¡°How is this?¡±


    [Acceptable.]


    I stood up, and we moved over to the gravel area just away from the garden. Tried to keep my eyes away from the shallow pit over to the side. I didn¡¯t want to lose control and overdo it with her.


    ¡°I¡¯ll try not to hurt you too bad, Gunquake.¡± She smiled, readying up her knife a few feet from me. ¡°Although, promise you won¡¯t shoot me?¡±


    [You will not cut me.]


    ¡°It¡¯s an inevitability.¡±


    [I will not shoot you, but I can¡¯t promise I won¡¯t hurt you.]


    A wry grin crossed her face. ¡°Careful, Gunquake. No flirting, remember?¡±


    I raised my eyebrow as the super emerged from the house again with a fresh drink and a dull look in her eyes. That said, she came and sat on the deckchair to be audience to what we were about to do - even if she didn¡¯t entirely approve.


    [Whenever you¡¯re ready, Clara.]


    She didn¡¯t waste a second, her trainers scraping through the loose gravel as she lunged toward me, knife flashing through the air. She stopped the attack an inch from my bare torso, a furrowed brow looking up at me.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to defend?¡±


    [There is no need. Like I said, you will not cut me.]


    She drew back and scowled at me. ¡°Well, forgive me for not having a sordid past of repeatedly maiming people, Gunquake. Although, perhaps I am lucky that you¡¯ll¡­ be my first.¡±


    ¡°Boo!¡± Roxy jeered from the side. ¡°Just fucking stab him.¡±


    [I will start defending when you are an actual threat.]


    Clara wrinkled up her face, clearly put off by us prompting her into actually harming me. I still had the scar that lined most of my torso where she had cut me open to save my life. Using a blade solely for harm seemed to have some wall built in front of it. I needed to knock that down.


    She adjusted her footing and brought the blade back up, but there was still hesitation in her expression.


    Frustrating her wouldn¡¯t prompt her into action effectively like it would the super. If she was going to approach this earnestly, I¡¯d have to sweeten the deal.


    [Here¡¯s how this will go. You cut me once and I¡¯ll start defending myself. You cut me twice and you¡¯ll get me alone in the workshop for an hour, no questions asked.]


    Clara¡¯s eyebrows raised, and she turned to look at the super.


    Roxy tilted her head from side to side while she crunched through some of the ice from her drink. ¡°Yeah, fine. Dubs, if you avoid getting cut twice, then you¡¯ll get your massage in the bath, with extra bubbles.¡±


    I shuddered and nodded my head in acceptance. All of us had the motivation to win - Roxy¡¯s clearly being something post-bath if I could read the unsubtle winking correctly.


    ¡°Very well, Gunquake. It seems I had forgotten you also like to play dangerous games.¡± The techie rolled out her shoulders and readied herself again. ¡°I will be a gracious winner, don¡¯t you worry - just as you will be a sore loser.¡±


    Clara might not have the amount of natural aptitude for violence like me, or even Roxy, but she was wily and smart. She darted forward and swiped, scoring a shallow cut across my midsection. Rather than reset or step back to appreciate her willingness to cause me injury, she immediately went for a quick jab to follow up.


    Just as I had anticipated.


    Left hand caught her wrist and my gun-arm lashed out, skirting an inch past her head. Her eyes widened, and I pushed her back.


    [That would have shattered half your face.]


    ¡°What do I get if you accidentally break a bone?¡± She flexed her fingers before grasping the knife tighter.


    [A heartfelt apology.]


    ¡°If you kill her,¡± Roxy interjected, ¡°we can bury her with your arm.¡± Her face immediately contorted into a grimace. ¡°Shit, that wasn''t very appropriate.¡±


    Any response forming in the part of my brain waiting to send the signal to my vocalizer didn¡¯t get the chance, as the techie took the momentary distraction to lunge for me again. I¡¯d give her that - she was opportunistic. Slow and far too telegraphed, but our power levels were just too different.


    I spun in place, bringing up my gun-arm vertically to deflect the blade. As her right arm swung away, she dropped the knife, catching it with her left hand. I rolled to the side as she slashed through the air, her non-dominant hand even worse for attacking. As she switched grips back and stepped toward me, Overcharge bloomed up.


    She winced as I blasted the ground by my feet as I stood, a cloud of light dust billowing out across us. With her cybernetic eyes, she didn¡¯t even flinch, despite it being a natural reaction. Impressive - and probably would have caught me off guard if her speed could match mine. Instead, I dodged her attack through the cloud, stepped away from the two wide follow-ups. She was using too much energy, but I was being cautious, just in case she had an ulterior plan.


    I stepped forward and kicked out at her, which she avoided by diving to the side. The techie hit the ground and rolled, before righting herself up to her feet. My gun-arm was already there, jabbing toward her - a hop backwards the only thing preventing her being prodded in the stomach.


    As I went to approach, she hit me with the start of her concocted plan. Handful of light gravel acquired while she rolled. I didn¡¯t have the benefit of cybernetic eyes or my goggles at present, so it did temporarily blind me. Gun-arm came up by instinct based on her last movements before my vision was obscured. Another of her wide swings. An unsatisfying clang rang out as I struck something - but it wasn¡¯t the knife.


    A decoy. Probably a stone. I moved, a step forward and a twist of my body. Arm out, risking an easy slash, but it found something warm. Gun-arm hugged my own torso tight, an extended techie arm stuck between.


    We both paused, and I blinked away the dust to see where the chips had fallen.


    The wide swing had been a ruse, after using it so many times in the fight. Instead, she had gone for a lunging stab like at the start. In anticipation of this, I had presented my torso as a target, turning at what I hoped was the last second. I had been correct and her jab went through the gap, my gun-arm then closing against her arm to hold it in place.


    My left hand was my plan B to grab her arm again if she went for a wide swing. However, as she had twisted forward into a lunge, I had instead grabbed her neck.


    She looked up at me with her green eyes, panting from the combat, her face flush from the skirmish. ¡°I yield,¡± she said. The knife clattered to the ground.


    ¡°Did you cut him?¡± Roxy hopped off of the deckchair to come down over and see.


    I relinquished my grip on the techie and she turned away from me, hands on her knees so that she could get her breath back. Gun-arm went up so that I could let the super be the judge. It was possible Clara could have cut me slightly, or even twisted the knife while her arm was pinned to jab me.


    Roxy¡¯s fingers ran down my side slowly as she sucked at her teeth. ¡°Sorry, hun. No luck here.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± The techie waved a hand at us, still looking the other way. ¡°I don¡¯t mind coming second with Gunquake.¡±


    The super rolled her eyes. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad I don¡¯t have to throw the workshop half a mile away.¡±


    [Would that have been with us in it?]


    She grinned. ¡°Probably. You got all dusty playing around here. Want me to give you your prize now? I could do with soaking away this buzz so we can have a chill evening. I start off as an affectionate drunk, but turn pretty weepy after.¡± Her face wrinkled up. ¡°Best to stop while we¡¯re all winning, huh?¡±


    [Sure. Start running it and I¡¯ll be along shortly. Remember, you said extra bubbles.]


    Roxy pulled my head closer to kiss my temple. ¡°Of course. You going to be okay, Clara?¡±


    ¡°Sure thing, sister. I¡¯ll probably¡­¡± her eyes stared at the gravel in front of her. ¡°Just go into the workshop and do workshop things.¡±


    With a shake of her head, the super departed, and I watched her leave. As good a distraction as any from the day I was currently having. Turned my head to the techie, who seemed to have gotten her breath back, but was still hunched over.


    [You did really well, Clara. Almost had me.]


    ¡°Almost had you,¡± she repeated.


    [Often in combat, it¡¯s those small windows of luck or times your smarts can take advantage of the situation that can give you the upper hand.]


    Of course, overwhelming brute force often worked just as well. If this was a real fight, she would have been a bloodied smear across the dried ground with the first second. Did I have the heart to do that? A curious question.


    She sighed and righted herself, brushing down some of the dust as she turned to me. ¡°There is an odd exhilaration to combat, Gunquake. It¡¯s very¡­ visceral and personal. Like a dark mirror of romance.¡±


    [You¡¯ve been two fists deep in my guts, Clara. Hard to imagine much more visceral and personal than that.]


    The techie smiled, her usual calm expression returning to her face. ¡°You of all people know how different it is, Gunquake. Still, I thank you for the¡­ experience. Perhaps we may spar again in the future, albeit without the stakes?¡±


    [Of course. If you are eager to learn, then I have so much to teach you.]


    She pulled a face. ¡°Alright, go placate Rockslide. I need to go work while certain things are fresh in my memory.¡±


    [As you wish, Clara. Message me if the computers arrive?]


    Her eager nodding was answer enough as she set off to the workshop. I took myself toward the house, eyes only briefly glancing at the open grave to my right. Was it a good decision to ignore it? It was still an uncomfortable weight in my stomach, but other than more breadcrumbs leading to the unknown, there wasn¡¯t really anything I could do with this information. Other than planning a few extra punches to the side of Boss¡¯s head when I found him.


    Roxy was already in the bath when I got up there, relaxed against one end. She had made good on her promise of extra bubbles, and I got in to join her. Any lingering stress over the day melted away as soon as I sunk in opposite her. Head slightly tilted back, she had her eyes closed and a soft smile on her lips.


    For a moment, I felt like a fraud.


    Still unsure as to how this woman had come to love me in such short order, I was also surprised that I had returned the feelings. And that they were genuine. Certainly, her strength was part of it. A super that I couldn¡¯t beat was motivating and excited a core part of me from my past. We could push each other to be greater. More than we were before.


    Part of it was also despite being a superhero, she was as normal as they got. Her own issues and flaws. Either things easily ignored, or obstacles that I could help her overcome. Perhaps it was her willingness to hold faith in me that drew me to her.


    Her eyes opened slightly. ¡°Having fun staring at my tits, Dubs?¡±


    [I was actually thinking how beautiful you look when you quit yapping for five minutes.]


    Her smile widened, and she leaned forward. ¡°I choose to believe that very obvious lie.¡±


    My hand came up to the side of her face.


    [You have these soft freckles that faintly appear when you spend a lot of time in the sun. They melt me quicker than any lava powers you have. Second best sight of the day.]


    Her own hands emerged from the bubbles to hold the sides of my face so that she could bring it closer, her forehead pressed gently against mine. ¡°Alright, you smooth talker. What was the best sight of the day?¡±


    [I¡¯m rather partial to seeing you naked.]


    ¡°Asshole.¡± She shook her head, but the flames in her eyes persisted. ¡°Turn around so I can turn those muscles into mush. I¡¯m surprised that you became a hitman with such a silver tongue, and not like a¡­ uh¡­ what¡¯s the word for it?¡±


    I propped myself up and turned so that my back faced her, being careful not to shatter any of the white tiling on the wall with my gun-arm.


    [A poet?]


    ¡°Like that.¡± She gave me a series of kisses along my shoulders. ¡°But more¡­ I don¡¯t know. More evocative?¡±


    [Playwright?]


    ¡°Forget it.¡± She sighed and scooted back a little so that her hands could start working magic on me. ¡°Give me those brain words about today¡¯s trauma instead.¡±


    [Hmm.]


    While I had intended to be a bit more tight-lipped over how my skeletal arm made me feel, something about the way she erased the tension out of my back with her strong hands cracked me open like a walnut.


    [I¡¯m unsure if this element of my past was meant to be found at this stage. It is unlikely the shack would have been removed under any other circumstance. Considering the length of time it had been there¡­ it wouldn¡¯t have been foresight, but perhaps an eventuality.]


    ¡°You think Boss might have told you to look under there if a certain situation came up?¡±


    [Possibly. I¡¯m not sure why my arm needed to be saved¡­ unless¡­]


    Her hands paused. ¡°Unless it was¡­ being hidden from someone else finding it? Like how your face might have been taken to mask your identity?¡±


    I considered this for a few moments before shrugging my very relaxed shoulders. Her fingers continued once more, pressing down beside my spine. Would a shattered and split arm really give a clue to my identity or survival to a third party? Or was there a more insidious reason for keeping the severed limb so close to where I lived?


    Any further thoughts popped like the bubbles in this bath, as the sound of the front door closing drew our attention.


    Soft footsteps ran up the stairs - Clara at speed.


    Before either of us could make a comment on what she might be up to, the bathroom door flung open at the request of the techies foot.


    ¡°Clara! What the fuck!¡± Roxy pulled herself up against me to hide her modesty. It wasn¡¯t unpleasant.


    A grimace was the first given response. ¡°I thought you bathed in your swimwear. You¡¯re both naked?¡±


    ¡°I swear to the gods, what do you want?¡±


    Clara now switched to a look of giddy anticipation, probably an expression held as she ran her way up to us. ¡°It¡¯s the League. They have approved Gunquake¡¯s application, as well as certified me as his sidekick!¡±


    [That¡¯s fantastic, Clara - although could have waited till we were out of here.]


    ¡°Apologies to you both.¡± She bobbed up and down, unable to contain her excitement. ¡°But they want you to see your designated manager tomorrow, and your first trial is going to be a live exercise against a villain!¡±


    The fresh promise of violence.


    Despite not being able to show it, I grinned from ear to ear.

 69 - Easily Managed

    Roxy spent a decent amount of time chewing out the techie for invading our privacy, equally frustrated that Clara had managed to make it this far into adulthood while still thinking people wore swimwear in the bath. Something I wasn¡¯t sure I believed at first until I saw how earnestly embarrassed she was. Apparently they only had showers in the League dorms as well as her current apartment, so her disdain for baths came from the misunderstanding that it was adjacent to swimming.


    She was dismissed, and the door was closed, leaving us feeling in a different mood than before - for various reasons.


    [This is unusual, right?]


    Roxy pressed her face against my back and sighed. ¡°Nothing about today has been particularly usual.¡±


    [I meant my first trial being a live exercise. No training with Crawford or¡­ other mundane things.]


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s fucking weird. Maybe they think you¡¯re competent enough already?¡± She sat back away from me, her hand running down my spine. ¡°I mean, you definitely are.¡±


    [If they¡¯ve had eyes on me for a while¡­ perhaps watching me perform in the field would be more valuable data.]


    ¡°I¡¯d watch you perform in a field,¡± she murmured. ¡°We¡¯d best get finished up and go make sure Clara isn¡¯t chewing through the furniture. Hopefully her computer shit comes soon to keep her occupied.¡±


    I stood up, sad to leave the bubbles so soon, and turned to face the super. Still seated, her eyes ran up my dripping body until we made eye contact.


    [Perhaps later we can see if you can avoid being stabbed by me?]


    Her eyebrows raised. ¡°Twice¡­?¡±


    Our amused flirting drained away quicker than the bathwater as we got out and dry. Shorts and shirt for me, as usual. Roxy put on her black gym wear, with a baggy white t-shirt on top.


    We emerged out into the real world once more, and descended the stairs. Clara was in the kitchen, chewing her way through a stack of toast like some kind of rodent. Either excitement, nerves, or lingering embarrassment fueling her need to consume. At least it wasn¡¯t the furniture.


    [I¡¯m surprised they accepted your sidekick application so quickly.]


    She wiped crumbs from her mouth and put down the current slice of toast back on the pile. ¡°They know that a tech super having a dedicated technician improves their performance and survival by a significant degree. As I¡¯m one of their own and we have worked together before, it was a simple process, Gunquake.¡±


    Her words came out of her mouth quicker than usual. Now that she had placed her food down, her fingers instead gripped at the edge of the counter.


    Roxy went over to the fridge, still narrowing a glare at the techie. ¡°It¡¯s not official until Dubs completes his training.¡± She paused as she looked around for something to snack on. ¡°Of course, I have no doubts he will fucking ace it¡­ so, whatever.¡±


    [Did they tell you much about the villain?]


    Clara shook her head. ¡°The three of us need to go see your manager tomorrow, and after that I¡¯m spending the day with Dr Jarl¡­ unless the League needs you to go on the same day.¡±


    Part of me considered the likelihood of that. Given that my life was in a near constant whirlpool of escalating physical or emotional turmoil¡­ I saw it as an inevitability.


    [Manager¡­ that would be Stacy, right, Roxy? The woman you hoped would felate a cactus?]


    The techie snorted as the woman turned away from the open fridge to tilt her head at me.


    ¡°You remembered that bullshit?¡±


    [Of course. It was important to you. I can¡¯t wait to meet her for myself.]


    A little bending of the truth, as I had tuned out most of her rant from the wastes when she had told me I was previously a super solider. It was enough to know that she was not a fan of her manager, treating her as a toddler - which was possibly because Roxy had become so disenfranchised with the League and what was required of her.


    ¡°If you end up sweet talking Stacy into being part of your fan club¡­¡± Roxy narrowed her eyes at me, but slowly turned to focus back on her search for food.


    ¡°Miss Stacy is very unfriendly,¡± Clara clarified. ¡°If you thought I was neutral and dry when you first met me, well¡­ our manager has less enthusiasm and personality than this very edible toast.¡± She lifted a slice and wiggled it at me.


    ¡°Basically a living rulebook. Or like an instruction manual.¡± Roxy closed the fridge door, now with a bottle of something in her hand. ¡°She¡¯s going to have her work cut out with the three of us assholes on her books at once.¡±


    [She¡¯ll be in charge of you too, Clara?]


    ¡°Partially. I¡¯ll have my usual manager on the tech side who will oversee my education and work as your sidekick, but Miss Stacy will also be in charge of the missions that we are both assigned.¡±


    Burning the candle from both ends started tomorrow, it seemed. With the techie now helping me in an official capacity, as well as being beholden to her new education, she wouldn¡¯t have a lot of free time. That said, I assumed my usual patrols and downtime super-work wouldn¡¯t require her being alert and on call to assist me.


    [We get any extra funding or assistance being paired together? With what tech I can get?]


    ¡°To a degree.¡± She nodded and took a bite of toast. ¡°Depends on what Rank you end up assigned to. Higher is better access and more funds¡­ but as your personal everything I won¡¯t let them restrict our progress.¡±


    Her eyes then went up to the corner of the room. ¡°Oh, delivery soon.¡± Without saying anything else, she grabbed her plate and went out of the house.


    Roxy flipped the cap off her bottle and took a few gulps. In seeing my raised eyebrow, she showed me the label on it. ¡°Pre-workout,¡± she said.


    [Oh? Going to go to the gym?]


    ¡°Fuck no.¡± She grinned. ¡°Grab your gauntlet because we¡¯re going to go spar, you hunk. If you¡¯re working soon, I¡¯m not letting you go into it half-cocked.¡±


    ¡°No comment,¡± Clara¡¯s voice came from outside.


    Not exactly a rest-day activity, but the truth of it was we had the spark of conflict lighting us in the background even when we tried to push it all away. We had power running through our bones, and power didn¡¯t like to go uncontested.


    A few minutes later and the techie was lying on a deckchair, angled so that she could watch us. Roxy and I squared up on my lot. Fists raised, we brawled. Started out pretty basic to warm up, but then she started warming up.


    She was gradually putting some of her actual strength into her strikes. Not enough to break bone or dent my metal parts when I blocked - but I had to move quicker and be careful about when I attacked or blocked. Clouds of dust circled around us as we persisted. Her face was serious and concentrated, the burning in her eyes almost making them glow against the surrounding haze.


    I understood why she was pushing so hard. Now that I was stepping up in an official capacity, there was a risk of my dying against a supervillain. Although I had a handful of kills under my belt, each one had brought me right to the edge of death. The only reason I had survived the Five Eyes was because they came at me one at a time, and my old abilities kicked in just at the right moment.


    Luck could only take me so far, and Roxy wasn¡¯t keen on scooping up my destroyed carcass from the ground anytime soon.


    In my mind, I had decided it was very unlikely I¡¯d be made an A-Rank hero. Roxy was on that ladder and it would only take her flipping a switch and she could pop me like a blood-filled balloon, even without her volcanic powers. B-Rank would put me alongside the rest of the group, but I had a feeling that was still hopeful thinking. Anything less than C-Rank and I¡¯d reconsider starting a life of villainy instead.


    I slid back as I blocked a kick. Sweat ran from my head, my back already soaked from the aura of heat that followed Roxy around. She growled and bared her teeth, hands blooming into bright yellow light.


    As lava ran from her closed fists, she lashed forward with three attacks. I dodged, dove, and rolled away from her. Back up to my feet and she had stopped - realizing that I wouldn¡¯t be able to do much against that kind of attack. Concentrating, a sharp hiss filled the air as her hands cooled down to solidify into dark brown rock. Rather than it crumbling away like prior occasions, it stayed in place.


    Her head burst into flame, and she flashed forward, swinging these hardened attacks against me. Gauntlet and then gun-arm rang out with clangs and sparks as we clashed. My arms sagged, slowly numbing from the unrelenting combat. It was against my nature, but I had to stop this before I got injured.


    [I yield.]


    The next swing stopped in mid-air as she saw my limbs hang slack. Roxy took a couple of steps back away from me and braced herself. Head-flame snuffed out, but the rock encasing her fists started to glow with light again. Her eyes were completely ablaze as melting stone dripped and fell to the dusty ground, revealing the glowing light once more. But as she focused and snarled at her own limbs, the light started traveling up her extended arms.


    Gradually it met her wrists, before edging along her forearm millimeter by millimeter. It made it about a third of the way to her elbow before she shook. Muscles twitching, she eventually gasped, a louder hiss filling my ears as the lava cooled to rock again. A flex and it all crumbled away, including that around her hands. The super leaned over, putting her elbows on her thighs to not irritate her raw-looking skin.


    Despite gasping for air myself, my voice came out as calm as ever.


    [Not bad. I certainly prefer it when you don¡¯t almost kill me.]


    ¡°Fuck you, Dubs,¡± she panted. ¡°I was close to getting you with lava again. I¡¯m such a dumbass.¡±


    [Alternatively, I see it as being impressive that you were able to adjust your new power on the fly to something more advantageous to your position in your fight. Certainly A-Rank line of thinking.]


    She looked up at me, still slightly hunched as sweat ran down from her short hair. ¡°You¡¯re damn fucking sexy with those sweet words, asshole. More of that shit, please.¡±


    I nodded politely. Although my abilities seemed to function via increase synapse and brain function, her new powers clearly turned part of her thinking mind slightly mushy. I knew that promotion was a big thing for her, but the response was a little more feral than I had expected. Didn¡¯t dislike it, however.


    We turned to see the techie approaching. At some point during our prolonged scuffle, Clara had acquired a sunhat and a glass of water which had a straw in it. In her other hand was a tablet device that she had been presumably prodding at.


    ¡°Interesting news, Gunquake,¡± she began, half ignoring the super. ¡°Your reaction speed and comparative strength compared to the previous simulation we recorded data for is up a good fifteen percent.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    [So I¡¯m improving?]


    ¡°At thrice the speed a trained athlete would.¡± She ran her eyes around me as if the apparent cause would suddenly spring out. ¡°I believe it¡¯s less that you¡¯re improving, and more¡­ your brain is remembering what it is supposed to be capable of.¡±


    I furrowed my brow and looked over at the distant city. Reflex and Analyze had come through my re-attached synapse links from before, but could it also have a general effect on how I functioned? It was likely.


    [Do you think engaging in combat is slowly awakening my old capabilities?]


    ¡°Yes, and no.¡± She paused to take a sip of her water. ¡°It is likely that high-stress situations can force those connections to form again, but to fully re-engage it might just take time or something else to prompt it out.¡±


    ¡°Might be sex,¡± Roxy offered, her brow suddenly furrowing. ¡°Shit, this is worse than being drunk.¡±


    Clara rolled her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t think proposing that to his nurse, mechanic, and sidekick is a good idea, Rockslide. I can only wear so many hats.¡±


    ¡°Specifically with me.¡± The super pulled a face and stood up, holding her arms out for inspection. Her hands seemed fine, but the parts of her arm that hadn¡¯t turned to lava before were now pink and sore.


    The techie took a step closer to look over the burns, ignoring the wince of the super as if she was considering pulping her. ¡°Normally I¡¯d suggest burn salve, sister - but I think for you it would be best to heal naturally to build up resistance to the lava.¡±


    Roxy pouted. ¡°I was worried that would be the answer.¡±


    [That was a lot more than usual. Was it difficult to control?]


    She flexed about, still tired from our bout even if she hadn¡¯t used her ability. ¡°Difficult isn¡¯t really the word. Like physically, other than getting amped up and accepting the power¡­ it¡¯s actually the willpower that¡¯s a struggle. My plan is to do my whole arms, eventually.¡±


    [To match your outfit.]


    ¡°Exactly.¡± She smiled, seeming to return to her normal self. ¡°If there¡¯s more power after that, then I¡¯ll try controlling it into doing different stuff.¡±


    I was happy to see her this driven. Despite my prior existence possibly revolving around erasing people like her from this world, I wanted nothing but her growth. To excel and be a great superhero. Not because¡­ I was cultivating her to be a peak to aspire to. It was a part of it, I could admit - but my support and love were genuine, even if she had never come out with her volcanic powers.


    ¡°Computer delivery will be here within the hour, Gunquake. I will start decrypting the chip, and put the fragment of metal Rockslide was shot with in the scanner to determine the properties.¡±


    [Thank you, Clara. Sounds perfect.]


    And if I had to choose a word to describe the rest of the day, perfect was possibly a top contender. Aching from our battle, the hours began to speed past me.


    Delivery arrived, and after some stilted small talk with Van Michaels, I helped Clara move the boxes into the workshop. She then shooed me away, giving me the assurance that she was perfectly capable of doing the rest and I should spend the rest of my energy looking after the super.


    Roxy herself was actually tired from straining her powers. We sat in the lounge and threw on an action/romance flick about a magician who could turn into a demon. Very droll. Despite the two bags of ice we put under her arms, she still managed to fall asleep against me. A well-earned nap.


    And I¡­ stared off out the window, mostly ignoring the sharks the movie kept jumping. Looked out at the horizon just over the roof of the workshop as the sky gradually grew hazier. Couldn¡¯t nap, but I let my mind spin idle for a change. Last couple of days had been¡­ a lot for me to take in. Every step forward kicked up more dust, but if I held my breath it would settle, and I could continue onward without choking.


    Tomorrow would be my first bite of League work. Roxy woke near dusk and went to make dinner. Clara popped in to say things were in motion and she¡¯d be working late on things so they could run when she wasn¡¯t around tomorrow. I continued to sit, just existing. Feeling both lost and found.


    We retired once it started to get dark out, and with a little stim misuse it turned out I could stab the super twice - although she wasn¡¯t exactly trying to avoid it. By the time we¡¯d had another bath to clean off for the next morning, her arms had all but healed up. In the warm bed, we exchanged a few soft words before drifting off.


    Yeah, perfect was pretty close.


    <hr>


    The van pulled up, bumping slightly as Clara moved it up onto the curb.


    We were all decked out in our full outfits, the morning a veritable tornado of apprehensive haste. Mostly from the super, but we had arrived in good time in one piece, which counted for something.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Roxy sighed loudly from the passenger seat, before looking at me in the back. ¡°Good behavior, you two. Whatever you think about Stacy, she is our manager and kinda has our balls in her grip on certain things. In some ways, she is our agent, so if you fuck this up you¡¯ll just get shitty missions going forward.¡±


    [Understood. I will play nice.]


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean use your voodoo charms on her either.¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°This is not a harem.¡± Roxy¡¯s glare turned to the techie behind the wheel. ¡°And that goes double for you, princess. If you want to ride Dubs¡¯ coattails to the top, then don¡¯t get weird in here. She remembers the last time she met you still.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Clara grimaced. ¡°Not my best showing. Fine, I will behave.¡±


    ¡°Fantastic.¡± The super exhaled once more, before putting on perhaps the most uncanny fake smile I¡¯d ever seen. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡±


    There was a slight haze to the morning air in the city. The small areas alongside the sidewalk that were lined with a width of grass had dew on them. As my boots kicked through the tiny droplets after I left the back of the van, something about it drew my attention¡­ but I wasn¡¯t sure why.


    Caught the pair waiting for me, and walked to catch up. Our manager¡¯s office was thankfully on the south side of the city, only just beyond the warehouse sector amongst some office blocks. I was still getting used to being out in the city at daytime, and much preferred the quieter areas. Still early enough in the morning, but it was after the rush hour for the people traveling to the offices for work.


    I¡¯d have to get used to people if this was going to work.


    Roxy was stiff as a board, and I¡¯m sure if given half the chance to leave right now, she¡¯d take it. Clara looked distracted and tired. She¡¯d been a little cagey about telling us when she had eventually gotten to bed, but I was sure she didn¡¯t want to be too exhausted for her time with Dr Jarl later.


    ¡°I¡¯ve left the computer trying to crack that drive, Gunquake,¡± she mentioned, as I caught up to walk between them. ¡°Apologies in advance for the electricity bill.¡±


    Roxy shrugged, a put-on smile struggling to stay on her face. ¡°One of the perks of the League is free housing and utilities.¡±


    ¡°For supers,¡± the techie pointed out. ¡°The auxiliary helpers are part subsidized, but we don¡¯t get such an easy ride. That said, we don¡¯t have to go punch inhuman criminals on the regular.¡±


    Although that last part sounded like it was added to placate Roxy, it made some sense. Supers didn¡¯t just have the stick of join-us-or-become-villains, but there were also carrots that made their normal lives easier. It was no wonder people like Clara¡¯s parents had traveled to Goldarch, if being even a small cog in the League meant an easier life. In saying that, she hadn¡¯t told me if they had been part of it or not. Best to not assume.


    We turned off the main sidewalk onto a pathway leading between the tall, gray office buildings. Rows of windows reflecting the morning sunlight. Reasonably well-kept. Reminded me of the contract where I killed a man to steal back a League disk drive, just so they could watch me do it. I hadn¡¯t been the only one working in the shadows.


    Roxy took us around another corner, before moving up to a door just ahead. They all looked nondescript to me, so I was glad she knew where she was going.


    I heard her sigh again, before she pushed it open and led us in.


    A small reception room. It seemed this door led straight into the manager¡¯s quarters rather than leading to a main lobby or stairwell.


    Gray carpet and drab eggshell walls, a few hanging frames displaying diplomas or other official certificates. A group of waiting chairs sat to our right, while a water cooler hummed away in the corner of the room. Old-fashioned, although I wasn¡¯t sure where I was drawing that frame of reference from. The noise it generated competed with the equally monotone buzz of the computer sitting on the brown desk ahead of us, just beside a closed door.


    Presumably, the receptionist - a young man with pale blue skin and white hair that seemed at odds with his otherwise baby-face. The two horns growing from his head, I let slide. Diamond-bright eyes turned from his monitor to greet us, some familiarity lighting his expression.


    ¡°Rockslide-ko! It has been a while.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Benny.¡± The wide smile on Roxy¡¯s face fizzled into something more genuine. ¡°You¡¯re looking well. I¡¯m sure you know why we¡¯re here.¡±


    He gave a brief nod. ¡°Naturally. And this must be Gunquake-ra and Miss Clara-ko.¡±


    The young man had an interesting accent and inflected our names with a designation that¡­ part of me couldn¡¯t quite recognize, despite it feeling familiar.


    [Pleasure to meet you.]


    Clara gave a brief curtsy, which didn¡¯t quite work with her dungarees.


    ¡°Such manners.¡± He grinned, revealing short, sharp fangs. ¡°Rockslide-ko must have given you lots of forewarning. I am Miss Horton-ko¡¯s personal assistant, and you may call me Benny¡­ because my actual name is exceedingly long.¡± Benny rolled his diamond eyes and gestured to the computer beside him. ¡°I screen any messages and calls for Miss Horton-ko, so if you hear from me, that¡¯ll be why.¡±


    ¡°Gunquake is pretty new to this,¡± Roxy offered. ¡°I¡¯m not sure he is ready for the amount of paperwork this involves.¡±


    [Perhaps I need a personal assistant as well, then.]


    I could see Clara squirming in my peripheral, but Benny continued grinning.


    ¡°I have more work than hours here, but I¡¯ll sync calendars with you and will assist in any administrative queries you may have.¡±


    [My first question is: What is a calendar?]


    Roxy nudged me, a brief scowl across her brow. ¡°Enough small talk. We¡¯re ready when Miss Horton is.¡±


    ¡°You can go right ahead. She¡¯s been¡­ eager for this.¡±


    Roxy moved in a way that I was almost convinced she was about to throw up, before her normal poise returned and she half-robotically led the rest of her band of oddballs over to the door. In trying not to appear rude by staring at Benny to try to recall why there was this aura of familiarity to him, I looked at his computer screen as we passed instead.


    Possibly equally a faux pas, as he quickly tabbed away from what looked to be some erotica he had been writing to instead bring up today¡¯s scheduled appointments. I raised an eyebrow back at Clara to see if she had noticed, but her eyes were focused on¡­ well, probably idly looking down absent-mindedly rather than specifically at my butt. She looked concerned, however. Again¡­ hopefully not by my butt.


    Doorway immediately led us into a similarly small room with identical drab gray tones to it. A couple of metal filing cabinets in the left corner, and a large potted plant desperate for attention grasped at the shuttered window in the right corner. Three chairs sat this wide of a wide wooden desk, a name plate sat proudly just before them - as if we didn¡¯t know why we were here.


    Miss Stacy Horton.


    The woman herself was also present. Sitting on the other side of the desk, face partially illuminated from her own computer screen, she turned to greet us. Probably mid-fifties, at a guess. Blonde bob-cut with a few grays running through it, pale and wrinkled around the edges, but it was the expression on her face that aged her beyond her years. Tired eyes looked over the top of circular glasses, her mouth already slightly down-turned as if we had just told her a terrible joke.


    ¡°Rockslide, Gunquake, and Miss Blanklin,¡± she greeted us - although it sounded more of a dry statement than anything welcoming. As if we were being called up to be executed. The tension coming off the super was almost tangible.


    ¡°Just Clara is fine, Miss Horton,¡± the techie requested, giving her a curtsy.


    ¡°Likewise, Stacy is appreciated, too. I like to keep a casual rapport with those who I work with.¡± She managed to say this without changing expression or tone.


    I was impressed.


    [Pleasure to meet you, Stacy.]


    Somehow, we had taken seats in our usual positions. Clara on my gun-arm side, Roxy on my normal-arm side. I supposed this meeting was for me, to some degree, so being center stage made some sense.


    ¡°I have heard things about you, Gunquake.¡± She tilted her head to the side. ¡°I haven¡¯t worked with a vigilante-styled hero before, nor a hero fast-tracked through induction like this.¡±


    [Then I hope I do not disappoint.]


    ¡°That remains to be seen.¡±


    Much like my arm yesterday. Part of my brain was jumping up and down, willing me to introduce some levity or win this woman over. Instead, I sat silent, and she turned to her computer to read through something as though we weren¡¯t there.


    There was a clock ticking, filling the silence, but I couldn¡¯t see where it was - not without physically turning myself. Currently, I was keen on seeing which of the three of us could act like a statue for the longest. It was neck and neck.


    ¡°Well,¡± Stacy eventually said, breaking the spell. ¡°I suppose congratulations are in order, Rockslide.¡±


    Roxy¡¯s eyebrows raised, and she gave a brief nod, but wasn¡¯t willing to commit to the bit until she knew the statement was genuine.


    ¡°In addition to your newly discovered powers, it seems the rest of the group are slowly coming around to taking their work seriously. Well, Captain Snaps, at least - once he returns from his enforced holiday.¡± Stacy adjusted her glasses. ¡°Some irony that your calling as a leader was lying dormant.¡±


    ¡°Like a volcano.¡± The super nodded slowly.


    ¡°And I¡¯m to understand that you are part cause of this change, Gunquake?¡± The manager¡¯s eyes peered over the top of her glasses at me.


    [Right place at the right time, perhaps. I take no credit.]


    ¡°Modesty. Not what I expected, given your details and appearance.¡± She tilted her head back to the monitor for a few quiet seconds. ¡°You are all listed under the same address. Do you have anything to report?¡±


    Roxy immediately froze up, tongue caught in her mouth. Clara was silent.


    [No. If I may, Stacy - you seem experienced and competent. I am betting that you knew about Rockslide¡¯s mission to befriend me?]


    She paused for a second before giving a brief nod.


    [I lived a miserable life, within a room smaller than this office, with a simple mattress on the floor to sleep on. It was the compassion of Rockslide to offer me her spare room which in turn became my desire to lead a life as a superhero.]


    The manager continued nodding, her hands going to the side to tap out some notes on her computer as I spoke. ¡°So you have nothing but a working relationship with both these women?¡±


    I nodded my head and lowered my eyes to the floor, unable to meet her gaze.


    [Half of me is cold hard metal, and the other is scarred muscle. I lived so long alone in the darkness, that even these cordial friendships are vibrant and overloading¡­]


    My eyes moved back up to her, making eye contact.


    [I hope to find love one day, should I be deserving. My past is mysterious and troubling, more than some could handle. Hopefully, there¡¯s a woman out there patient and understanding enough to guide me through such a turbulent sea.]


    Stacy stared at me for several moments, before blinking a couple of times. She turned back to her computer screen slowly. Her brain seemed to be stuck processing my words. ¡°Yes¡­ well, that was a¡­ detailed enough answer¡­ thank you, Gunquake.¡±


    The red glow in my left peripheral, and green glow in my right peripheral told me that I would probably be walking home.


    Probably without either of my legs.

 70 - To My Tune

    The air in the small office room was rather stifling, and not just because of the warmth of the morning sun trying to make its way through the closed blinds. It was a minor relief when we were finally dismissed with a coy smile and wave of the manager¡¯s hand - able to exit the door into cooler air.


    Benny held a confused expression. ¡°Did I hear giggling?¡± he whispered, diamond eyes looking between each of us as we made our leave.


    Silence greeted him as we continued out of the building fully, without saying a word.


    I wondered if they¡¯d give me five minutes head-start.


    Clara stopped and turned to me. ¡°Here.¡± In her hand were the van keys. ¡°I¡¯ll get a cab to the doctors and message you when I need to be picked up, Gunquake. We¡¯ll need to prepare for tonight.¡±


    I gave her a nod and watched her walk off. Roxy had already started off towards the vehicle, so I caught up. Around the corner, across the now-dewless grass, and into the van. Much higher and heavier than I was used to driving, and I had to put the seat back as the techie had short legs.


    The super was looking out the side window, elbow on the door, chin in her hand. Van started up and I put my single hand on the wheel.


    [I¡¯m sorry, Roxy.]


    She gave me a glance and deflated. ¡°I figured that this would happen. Can¡¯t really help it, can you?¡±


    My right eye twitched as I took the van down from the curb and circled it around on the road to head back home. An awkward task as my gun-arm wasn¡¯t really the right length or shape to prod at the necessary van-controlling parts.


    [That¡¯s not really an excuse, though. I can understand that you¡¯re mad.]


    Roxy sighed again. ¡°Not sure if I am really mad. Like, I am pissed at you, but I expected this, and you¡¯ve actually got Stacy on our side. She was always such a stick in the mud for me, and now she¡¯s going to see what she can do about getting me better missions. I¡¯m thankful, as much as I want to kick you in the balls.¡±


    [I seem to be hard-coded to want to win people over.]


    We sat in silence for a few moments before she rolled her eyes. ¡°Seriously, though. ¡®I¡¯ve never had a manager before¡¯? Can¡¯t believe she ate that basic shit up.¡±


    I shrugged, which was difficult while trying not to run us off the road accidentally.


    [You know it was just to get us a more beneficial position, though?]


    ¡°Dubs. I trust Clara to not do anything to hurt me, but I don¡¯t trust other people with you. But it¡¯s¡­ not really that¡­¡±


    Although I raised an eyebrow, I couldn¡¯t turn to her due to being focused on keeping our vehicle on the right tracks. I still didn¡¯t have a driving license, so didn¡¯t want to get pulled over either. Clara would literally murder me if anything happened to the van. Unsure as to what to say, I sat in concentrated silence while waiting for her to expand on her statement.


    Eventually, she sat up straighter and move her hands to her lap.


    ¡°Seeing how easily you twist people into doing what you want¡­ sometimes I worry that I¡¯ve just been duped as well.¡± Her fingertips tapped together. ¡°That I was just an easy mark for you to benefit from.¡±


    Another awkward silence filled the vehicle. The residual heat radiating from her had all but cooled now.


    [I realize there is nothing I could say right now that would reassure you, with my every word being suspect. I hope in time my actions would tell you what my mouth cannot.]


    In my peripheral, I could see her nodding slowly. How could you trust the words of a liar? It didn¡¯t matter if I poured my heart out to her now. My feelings toward both her and the techie were genuine, and not part of my need to become anything other than someone worthy of having love and friendship. Given that she had been hurt in the past, I could understand her trepidation about being vulnerable again.


    ¡°At least tell me how you did it, asshole.¡± She relaxed slightly, giving up on holding up the walls so diligently. ¡°You don¡¯t actually have magic powers, right?¡±


    [No. Unfortunately, it was part gamble that luckily paid off.]


    ¡°Bullshit. All risks have some basis of success to make it worth it. Tell me, otherwise I¡¯ll go back and disclose just what kind of relationship we have. In vivid detail.¡± She scowled at me. ¡°You did this shit in your League interview as well.¡±


    I took a deep breath, despite it not really affecting how I spoke through my vocalizer.


    [She was unmarried but had a photo of a man on the side wall. Signed, so unlikely to be a partner or family member. Glasses, but didn¡¯t use them for the computer, so they must be specifically for reading closer things. As she seemed like an experienced professional, there was no chance that she wouldn¡¯t know Benny was writing erotic fiction instead of working. So the assumption was that she probably read it on the sly, in addition to the typical romance books where the dark and brooding male lead is half dressed on the cover.]


    Roxy was silent for a moment. ¡°Even then, you can¡¯t assume that¡­¡±


    [My lense brought back the information that the man in the picture was a romance author. Also, the calendar that Benny switched to had blocks earmarked for reading time. We all need our escapisms.]


    ¡°Perceptive motherfucker,¡± she murmured, shaking her head to look out the side window again.


    We were through the warehouse districts and about to head into the construction sites and storage areas just before the outskirts now. Too early to pat myself on the back for making it out of the city safe, but it was at least growing increasingly unlikely the super was about to snap me in half.


    ¡°Part of it is also worry, Dubs,¡± she said, quieter than usual.


    [Oh? For my live test tonight?]


    ¡°I know you¡¯ve been through worse¡­ heck, I¡¯ve done worse to you. I guess the part of me that trusts and loves you is just scared of losing you.¡± Her hand came across and gave my arm a light squeeze.


    [Maybe I¡¯ll get hurt. I cannot promise you I will come back uninjured. However, I will emerge victorious and alive. I always win.]


    ¡°Always? You lost against me, smartass.¡±


    [Did I though?]


    She exhaled, but I could tell some of her nerves were easing off. It turned out that maintaining relationships was more difficult than I had imagined. In a way, I was lucky she was partially understanding of my need to charm any of our detractors. I held zero attraction for our manager, but I couldn¡¯t have someone stifling our progress. Missing out on missions or opportunities to grow was unacceptable, so having her as part of my fan club was an unfortunate reality.


    [Is Clara pissed off with me?]


    ¡°No. She sent a message suggesting we should argue and then have make up sex while we have the house to ourselves.¡± She removed her hand from me. ¡°I think that¡¯s her way of saying that she is tired and stressed. Today is a big day with her seeing the Doc and your mission later.¡±


    They had indeed decided that the villain needed turning into paste this evening. Made sense on some levels, but was exhausting. As long as I didn¡¯t have any more ghosts of the past leap up in front of me during the afternoon, then I¡¯d survive.


    Tech villain. Not entirely my bread and butter, but they wanted me to cut my lack of teeth on something with a similar flavor to what I brought to the table. At night, which suited me perfectly. In the outskirts, which was odd but also acceptable.


    A hobgoblin scientist going by the name of Jolt God. Most goblinoid ancestries had become a normal part of society centuries ago, no matter their prior alignments or sordid pasts. Hobgoblins were the exception. Near human sized, but slim and oddly proportioned. Skin usually different red or green hues, long heads with jutting lower tusks. Pointed ears and noses like their diminutive cousins, but odd eyes like a goat. Mostly lived in large groups or tribes on the fringes of society.


    Occasionally, some dabbled in magic or had minor powers. Jolt had some unnatural proficiency with technology - although given that they mostly existed stealing trash it wasn¡¯t actually reliable or functional most of the time.


    Until now, at least.


    League intel signaled a high chance of Jolt God having started a project that threatened the safety of Goldarch. A bomb. They weren¡¯t entirely sure of the type - but knew that the hobgoblins had potentially scored the necessary components to make something that would actually work, and not just blow themselves up.


    This had led into an interesting discussion on how supers were actually assigned to missions. My assumption was that one of the S-Rank heroes like Angel could just fly over, nuke the site from the sky, and go home for a well-earned rest. Apparently, this was actually more like a normal job than I had first realized.


    Shift patterns, areas of influence, and portfolio building. If the higher Rank supers did everything, then that would leave the lower Ranks with nothing to do, and the former often overworked. Both a recipe for disaster. Missions were just as much a way for the League to regulate the power, energy, and money-making capital of its heroes, just as much as it was for peacekeeping and justice.


    It was almost enough to make me jaded - even if most of my life had been killing supers and criminals.


    Clara hadn¡¯t complained about the mission being today, but I could tell it was something conflicting for her. Time away from her education or workshop, but a chance to prove herself as my sidekick. I could imagine her mind was overheating from it all.


    ¡°At least I¡¯ll be comforted with the fact that she will be home when working, so I can protect one of your dumbasses.¡± Roxy rolled her head around. ¡°Assuming the range is okay, like she mentioned.¡±


    One of the benefits of it being in the outskirts was less terrain to get in the way of her communications¡­ apparently.


    I switched Erin¡ªour security system¡ªdown to the local area of effect, rather than the more powerful and potentially tumor-inducting wide range. I¡¯d received no anomalous messages from it, and started to wonder if my paranoia wasn¡¯t because of a hidden opponent scouting us out, and just the ghost of my buried arm knocking on the door of my weakened psyche.


    Somehow, the thought of it being an unseen enemy was more comforting.


    Van pulled up across the dry ground beside the workshop. I had made it back in one piece. Hopefully a continuing trend for the whole day.


    I popped the door open, but stopped as Roxy held my arm. So instead, I turned my head to look at her. She moved herself up closer to me, her other hand holding the side of my gas-mask.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t think my insecurities mean I love you any less.¡± Her burning eyes looked between my own goggled orbs. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I want this to be real.¡±


    [It¡¯s very real, Roxy. I don¡¯t want anybody but you.]


    The tension around her eyes relaxed, and she smiled. ¡°You want to go argue all over the kitchen furniture?¡±


    [I have some very compelling points I¡¯m eager for you to hear.]


    ¡°Well, I am hoping the physical intimacy will help override my emotional vulnerabilities. Maybe there¡¯s some feral need for me to stake a claim that you still belong to me.¡± She pulled a face. ¡°Are you currently casting magic on me?¡±


    [Hmm? Sorry, was too focused on trying to mentally undress you.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°Dork. Get your ass inside the house.¡± Relinquishing her grip on me, she popped her door open. ¡°Oh, and keep the outfit on.¡±


    <hr>


    Waiting for nightfall was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences in recent memory. Without Clara around to constantly pester us, we had fallen into some amount of normal relationship. After a bath and brief vacation from our work clothes, we had watched a little television, spent some time lying in the garden talking about her childhood, and even threw some rocks out into the wastes. She had me beat there rather easily.


    We play-fought for a bit, and I was only partially convinced she used some of her strength powers to best me every time. My gun-arm made carrying her awkward, but with some trial and error we found that I had enough strength to carry her piggyback style for a short distance - something she absolutely loved.


    By the time we made it to late afternoon, our worries from the morning seemed long forgotten.


    Now once again in the recently scrubbed clean kitchen, she waved a spoon at me - ice-cream tub in her hand.


    ¡°Alright, asshole. Nobody is this good of an actor. You¡¯re not fixing my broken parts in a day, but I believe you¡¯re genuine.¡± She took a scoop and paused. ¡°If you gotta be a charismatic prick to get us ahead, then fine, but nothing more than words, understand? This list just has ¡®smooth-talking¡¯ on it.¡±


    [Ah, so there is a list.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject, fucko.¡± She took a few steps towards me, stopping a foot away to glare into my eyes. ¡°I need you to assure me.¡±


    [I promise, Roxy. The last thing I would want is to hurt you.]


    She maintained eye contact as she put the spoon in her mouth, nodding slowly. ¡°Alright. Even if it makes me the biggest dumbass in the city, I believe you.¡±


    [If that were the case, you¡¯d be competing with me for who is dumbest, as I am trying to have a relationship with a woman I goaded into killing me.]


    Roxy smiled and withdrew the spoon. ¡°Guess we¡¯ll just be idiots together, then.¡±


    I nodded, but was distracted from further staring into her flaming eyes by a notification in my lense.


    [Clara wants me to pick her up. She is being dropped by a cab at the edge of the warehouse district.]


    The super rolled her eyes. ¡°In close third place, huh? Standing around there after closing is asking for trouble. Tell you what, I¡¯ll jump out there and meet up with her - you can drive up and get us both?¡±


    [Perfect. I¡¯ll get moving now and send you her coordinates.]


    Wasn¡¯t the most efficient way for us to all travel, but sometimes that wasn¡¯t the most important thing. It wasn¡¯t a long journey, but as soon as the techie hit the passenger seat, she fell straight asleep. Roxy sat in the back for a change.


    ¡°Feels like I¡¯m about to be dropped out of an armored personnel carrier in some war zone,¡± she murmured from the darkness.


    Perhaps that¡¯s why I liked it. A thought that fluttered away as I tried concentrating on the barely lit road.


    Before long, we were back at the house. A couple of hours from my rough mission starting time. Stacy had mentioned that I might be monitored - if I eventually got my full League of Heroes badge, they¡¯d be able to jumpstart my public image by bringing up my induction exploits after the fact. So¡­ part of my job today was also getting marketing material for my prospective employer.


    Roxy carried the spent techie from the van and to the lounge - but she¡¯d need to be woken soon. Clara would never forgive either of us if we allowed her to sleep through her first opportunity to act as my sidekick. As much as I had gotten used to being solo, there were numerous advantages to having these allies now.


    One such thing was possibly whatever was in the crate the sleepy tech had been traveling with. I lifted it from the back of the van and took it to the smaller workshop room for now. This space not only had all my magazines, ammunition, and wearable tech I wasn¡¯t currently using - but was also where her chair and main computer had been set up. Three monitor screens, the one on the far right running with rows of data as the drive resisted being cracked.


    Judging by the hum coming from the other side of the wall, I assumed whatever machine analyzed the physical properties of things was in the larger working space.


    I idly thumbed through the magazines, starting to load them up. No killing, Stacy had informed me. While Jolt¡¯s hobgoblin group weren¡¯t exactly friendly with Goldarch, wiping them out might just invoke revenge from other tribes in the area. We had to do things according to a weird notion called ¡®the law¡¯.


    Steps over by the door had me turning to see the super silhouetted against the open space. ¡°Anything I can help with, Dubs? I feel antsy as shit.¡±


    [Perhaps wake Clara. I¡¯m not sure how much preparations she needs to do.]


    ¡°Sure. How are¡­ you feeling about tonight? Nervous?¡±


    I grunted, placing the last Nerve shot into the ten-mag.


    [Perhaps. Not really about the mission, as such.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± She stepped into the workshop itself so that she could accost me directly. ¡°Spill it then, Dubs. This is a two-way street.¡±


    [Once we find out the secrets of my past¡­ what if I was something even more terrible than we have been assuming? Killing supers seems like a near certainty, but what if that meant more than just adults¡­? What does that mean for us?]


    Roxy exhaled and stepped closer so that she could hold my face. ¡°There¡¯s no point creating your own nightmares, Dubs. We¡¯ll find out and then make any judgements. Do you have any urges of infanticide or worse?¡±


    [No, not at all.]


    ¡°Then part of you living a better life is going to be drawing a line in the sand where the old you died. It won¡¯t be that easy, and it¡¯ll be something you have to find your own peace with¡­ but I¡¯m here for you always.¡± She pressed her nose against my re-breather, in lieu of a kiss. ¡°I know you¡¯re a fucking murderer. I¡¯m not as virtuous as the superhero suit tries to sell it.¡±


    ¡°I think we¡¯re all aware of that.¡±


    We both looked over at the doorway, where Clara was standing, arms crossed and a scowl over her tired eyes. ¡°I hope you disinfected the kitchen, you rabid animals. I make toast in there.¡±


    [Perhaps you¡¯ll have to include the whole house in Erin¡¯s-]


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this.¡± The techie jerked her thumb back. ¡°Rockslide, out. Go make me toast and some cold water while I sort this towering lump of freak out.¡±


    Roxy narrowed her eyes, but bit back a response. Instead, she left, giving Clara a polite smile before blowing me a kiss.


    Once the super had vanished into the house, Clara¡¯s glare immediately washed away, and she came into the workshop with renewed energy. ¡°Sorry for the show, Gunquake. It¡¯s important to set boundaries when it comes to our working environment. If we let my sister stand around talking about emotions, then it¡¯s only a few steps away from you also desecrating my workshop. And she is not allowed to do that.¡±


    Any note I made about her only specifying Roxy being the one not allowed to do such a thing quickly washed away. My finger jutted out toward the new crate she had returned home with.


    [What¡¯s in the box?]


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure you deserve it.¡± She gave me a coy smile and went to sit at her computer. ¡°Although I think you¡¯ll really want it.¡±


    I did.


    [It can¡¯t be that impressive then. You must not be proud of it if you¡¯re unwilling to show me. I¡¯ll pass.]


    She didn¡¯t turn from her monitors, as screens bloomed into life on the other idle two. ¡°Unfortunately, my dear Gunquake, your charms and mental tricks do not work on me.¡±


    [Is that so? I could have sworn I saw you turning a little green earlier.]


    Clara paused, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she gave me a quick glance. ¡°In some ways you are mine, Gunquake, just the same as in some ways you belong to Rockslide. I am wary of anything that threatens that status quo¡­ but again, that was not you trying to charm me.¡±


    [As I am yours and you only want the best for me, I know that the crate contains something ingenious that will both be technically impressive as well as paramount to my success this evening.]


    She ran her tongue across her lips before swiveling in her chair to look at me. ¡°I recant my original statement, Gunquake. Please, help yourself.¡± She gave me a wry smile. ¡°To the crate.¡±


    I didn¡¯t need asking twice. Was already grasping for the lid before she had uttered the clarifying addendum. Brass clips on every side, which I popped one after another before removing the top wholesale.


    Peered inside the rather full box.


    Looked like a backpack of some kind, with several tubes running off one side.


    [Not the grappling hook previously discussed?]


    ¡°Correct. It is not a grappling hook.¡± She stood up from her chair and yawned. ¡°Bring it through to the bigger workshop. You might need a change of underwear after this, and I¡¯ll not have you make a mess in this room.¡±


    I lifted the open crate up and followed her through, wondering if she did have a way of knowing if Roxy and I defiled the workshops. Probably best not to bite the hand that rearranges broken internal organs. In the larger space, and in addition to the electronic device analyzing the metal shard, Clara had also acquired some manner of raised length of guttering padded with fur. A rest for my gun-arm for her to work on it.


    After placing the box down, she gestured for me to step over to it. I did so and placed my arm inside the comfortable channel gently. She stepped up behind me, now holding the backpack - albeit struggling with the weight a little. Arm back out, I threaded my right before my more flexible left also went through the straps. Some weight to it, but nothing terrible.


    She took up the three inch-wide tubes from the floor and stood beside me.


    ¡°Firstly, Gunquake.¡± Her eyes went to the backpack. ¡°Something that can carry my drone, with a signal and range booster. Reduced reaction time for me, but it means I can sit here eating toast rather than hang just outside of shotgun range in constant danger.¡±


    [Still the dragonfly variant?]


    ¡°Indeed. I¡¯m weighing up options for what would be best going forward. For now, this is enough.¡± She reached into her dungarees pocket to bring out a flathead screwdriver and popped open the panel of my gun-arm that held the Overcharge tech.


    A tap on the side of her head and a bright white light bloomed from her right eye. She hummed to herself as she inspected the internals. From her other pocket, she withdrew a piece of metal the same size and shape as the panel removed, except this had three holes that looked perfect for fitting the tubes in.


    ¡°Please stay still for this, Gunquake. I will explain each one as I have affixed them.¡±


    [Understood.]


    She held the screwdriver in her mouth as she turned my arm slightly to get a better angle. Dropped two of the cables to bring the first one forward, through the panel, and then she jostled it into an area just ahead of where Overcharge was affixed.


    I felt a slight tug as she ensured it was in properly, before she removed the tool from her mouth. ¡°First is a coolant. Over a prolonged battle it will maintain the effectiveness of your V-Force drive - an increase of between ten and twenty percent depending on length of use.¡±


    Although I wasn¡¯t sure I had ever consciously noticed the V-Force dragging, it was likely that my fights ahead would possibly be even longer than normal. Those with super powers weren¡¯t often humbled by a shot or two, like your average criminal.


    ¡°Second,¡± she said as she checked it was in. ¡°Will allow you to triple load cartridges into the chamber with no reduced power - although it uses as much V-Force as an Overcharge, so I¡¯d advise only using it for certain circumstances.¡±


    Clara tapped at a cylindrical tank on the right side of the backpack. ¡°Third floods the chamber with whatever is in this. Sacrilege, but sometimes I have deviant ideas.¡± She labored me with some eye contact as she tugged on this third tube.


    [What is currently in it?]


    Although she continued to look up at me, her face wrinkled up. ¡°Lubricant.¡±


    I allowed a silence to fall between us, before she turned and started to fix the panel back in place.


    ¡°Original plan was a flamethrower type thing, but I didn¡¯t want to make a bad impression on the Doctor on the first day.¡±


    [You created this today?]


    Clara nodded. ¡°For the most part. Dr Jarl is very hands-on, and values practical learning. Mostly, he did not interfere with this creation, but gave a few practical pointers that helped it come together.¡±


    [Did you want to tell me all about your day once I get back?]


    ¡°That sounds really nice, Gunquake.¡± She smiled and stepped away. ¡°Be careful with the tubing when doing any acrobatics, but otherwise, that¡¯s all done.¡±


    I removed my arm from the comfortable rest and flexed it back and forward. The tubing actually seemed to be elasticated in some manner, and fit reasonably snugly with my profile. Last thing I wanted was dangling cables doing me a disservice in the middle of battle.


    [Once again I give you my thanks, Clara.]


    ¡°You can show your gratitude by coming home safe for Rockslide. She has pestered me into giving her a link to the drone video feed¡­ so don¡¯t die in front of her, okay?¡±


    I nodded, unable to verbalize it into a promise. It didn¡¯t feel likely that I could die to a group of hobgoblins, but I was only human - even if a little Advanced. A shot to the wrong part of me, or something that stunned me, and I¡¯d be easy enough to overrun.


    Still, this was what it was all about.


    A handful of tests and I could become an official superhero. In the pocket of the League, and with their backing, I would be able to¡­


    I stepped out of the workshop into the early evening darkness. Over to the side, the city was illuminated by hundreds of dots of light. It was nice to have this work to paste thickly over the mystery that had been uncomfortable for my eyes. As soon as the League had officiated me, it would be time to dig around in their filth and see what they really knew about me.


    Maybe I could help them find Boss. Then Boss could tell me who I really was.


    As Clara pressed past me to return to the computer, and Roxy came out of the house with toast and water, a nervous smile on her face¡­


    It reminded me that I was in no urgency to find out my past. Whatever murky experience had befallen me was eager enough to present itself every few days that I sunk away from it, but the truth was whether through Boss¡¯s intention or my own volition, I had a life not defined by the before-times.


    ¡°Sweet new tech, Dubs.¡± The super tried to look genuinely interested and not like she was itching to follow me on the mission like a lost puppy. ¡°Oh, guess what? I was using my brain for more than thinking of you undressed for a change and remembered the word that describes such a smooth talking charmer like yourself.¡±


    [Oh, you did?]


    ¡°Yup!¡± She stopped in front of me, an eyebrow raised. ¡°You''re like a bard.¡±


    Bard.


    My muscles tensed as shadows flickered between our gathered buildings. A chill ran through me, even knowing they were fake. I blinked as color ran from the world.


    ¡°You alright, Dubs?¡±


    I looked down as she put her hand on my chest, only it wasn¡¯t her hand. Black glove.


    Wasn¡¯t my current outfit either. Tactical vest, half soaked through with blood on the right side. A humming noise and pressure filled my ears.


    I watched as the hand gripped at the nametag, fingers digging in and tearing the fabric away.


    Bard, it had said.

 71 - Out of Mind

    The vibration and rocking motions of my motorbike as I slowly ground my way through the outskirts wasn¡¯t helping with the knots continuing to writhe in my stomach. Apparently, having flashbacks of the time you were left for dead wasn¡¯t a good enough excuse to skip out on work.


    Not that I wanted to.


    If anything, the violence would hopefully ground me a little better. After shaking away the gloom of my nametag being torn from my bloodied tactical vest by an unknown figure, Roxy had looked twice as worried for me. My codename or call sign in the squad had been Bard.


    It wasn¡¯t my actual name; I was almost certain of that. After some prodding, part of my brain winced at certain other words that Clara insisted on jabbing me with. Paladin. Warlock. Druid. A few others had no reaction, but the theme was clear. No other flashbacks, but an uncomfortable feeling that had left me feeling out of sorts.


    My squad had been named after classic fantasy classes. As if we were some manner of righteous adventuring party, or... perhaps something closer to toy soldiers for a megalomaniac. Given that I had the charms to suit this fabled class, I was willing to jump to the conclusion that the others had abilities that suited their codenames as well.


    It was a lot of bullshit to dump on me right before heading out to run my League mission. Ten of us, but only three others were still living - if my assumption about the oddly loaded magazine was correct. Which other classes? There were so many thoughts just spinning wildly throughout my head, and no time to give them the attention they required.


    A notification came in. As much as the techie wanted to delve into this new nugget of information - perhaps one of the more overt leads we had on my past - we agreed to buckle down and get the mission done first. It couldn¡¯t really be any other way.


    //Clara: You should see the target location shortly, Gunquake.


    //Clara: Closed comms are still secure, but be advised you might have ears and eyes on you.


    //Gunquake: Understood.


    Roxy had wanted in on the chat channel, but had been told no. Some amount of pouting had gotten her the compromise of being able to read but not reply. I¡¯m not sure how that would be any more comforting for her than not knowing, but it was briefly amusing seeing her being the annoying one for once.


    As a parting gift, she had given me a kiss and a hug, but since I was fully outfitted she was slightly frustrated there was no skin to which her lips could adhere to. Clara had given me a single cartridge instead of offering physical assurances, but given that she¡¯d managed to cobble together a Quake shot, it was almost as good as Roxy¡¯s hug.


    Drum and two ten-mags with Nerve. Tazer, Smoke, Rubber, and Water ten-mags. I¡¯d used up all my grenades against the mutants, but Clara assured me we¡¯d be drowning in them once the League was supplying me with equipment - maybe even after I showed what I was capable of tonight.


    Shame my heart wasn¡¯t in it as much. Couldn¡¯t take any of the fun ammunition that killed people. Although Stacy hinted at an acceptable collateral percentage, the thought of having to count out how many souls I could erase seemed more unpalatable than wiping the lot of them from this world.


    That might say something about me, but I¡¯d covered the mirror of self-reflection with a dark sheet for the next¡­ hour or less, hopefully. I knew that if something fucked me up, then Roxy could be over with emergency first aid¡­ assuming I could hold on for the ten or so minutes it¡¯d take her to leap here. Fresh stims and canister in, yet I still felt half dead.


    A new addition to my gear was a satchel full of restraints. Although they looked like little more than large, League-branded zip-ties, I found that they were pretty easy to use one-handed. Something Roxy was a little too keen to have me practice on her. Clara just needed to find a way we could stick them in a shotgun cartridge, and my life would be a lot easier.


    I rolled the bike to a stop at the crest of a ridge. Flicked the lights off in seeing the buildings ahead.


    Jolt God was considered a C-Rank villain. Although Stacy hadn¡¯t told us outright, Clara was able to do a search on the disconnected database she had sequestered from the League. We also looked up the Five Eyes, and three of them were also C-Rank, with two being low B-Rank.


    That was¡­ humbling.


    Of course, Roxy was B-Rank at present and could fold me in half without breaking a sweat. Notoriety and exploits seemed to have some weighing factor on villain designations just as popularity and mission successes did for supers¡­ but I was still a little sore about my place in all this. Clara had tried to reassure me that running a gauntlet of five villains in a row signaled that I was punching my weight decently - especially as that was before my abilities and tech had really started to come into play¡­


    But I wouldn¡¯t be convinced. Nothing since my call sign had been jammed into my skull really shifted my mood much.


    I needed to focus.


    The hobgoblin town was a squared U-shape. Tall buildings of gray stone that were almost a dead ringer for the office blocks I had been walking around this morning. Slightly mismatched in shape and patched up with whatever materials they could find. My current position was on the long left side of the shape. I orientated my lense map so that the open side of their U was pointing north, so that I could see my approach almost directly from the west.


    Central area was lit by floodlights. The sound of machinery and tiny shapes amongst the bright illumination signaled they were hard at work and hadn¡¯t turned in for the night. Shame, as that made this slightly more of a slog. To my advantage, the terrain dipped from the crest I was perched upon, all the way up to their walls, it seemed. With my bike turned off, I could coast near silently all the way there.


    Only needed to arrest Jolt himself, and disable the bomb. Easier said than done, and I doubted that the rest of his tribe would be pleased I was there and causing havoc. As long as I didn¡¯t blow myself up with the¡­


    Shit. Shouldn¡¯t think things into existence.


    Wheels crunched through gravel as I descended the slight ridge and started rolling their way. Less noise once it picked up speed, and I slowed it so as to not careen into a rock formation or a ditch that the moonlight didn¡¯t care to illuminate.


    After finding out the tank on my back was filled with lubricant, Roxy extracted a little more information with narrowed eyes from the techie. Some industrial stuff, incredibly good for removing friction from most things and generally not used because of the fumes it gave off - something my gas-mask would prevent, I was assured. Triple shot required less explaining. Once I had given it a proper noun, it seemed self explanatory. Niche, perhaps, but it was these edge cases that made me a tech superhero.


    Or, close to one, anyway.


    //Clara: Switching to mission critical comms only.


    //Clara: Once you have reached the walls, I will release the drone.


    //Gunquake: Understood.


    We hadn¡¯t really been flooding the chat with errant talk only, but it was nice to set a professional tone. Helped me focus. At first I was surprised the League let us use private comms for this, but at the end of the day they were testing my competency more than what Clara could provide.


    Noise of the workers grew in volume as I slipped through the night air. Was half tempted to unclip my vocalizer. Fall into old habits. But I wasn¡¯t here to be a detached killer. Part of this was now an act¡­ a role the League expected me to play into. Despite my apparent bard-like charms, I was still undecided on how I felt about playing the anti-hero.


    Until recently, I¡¯d been more of a villain.


    Slid the bike to a stop as I approached the closest wall. No windows here until higher up, and most of them were dark. From my prior vantage point, it looked as though the buildings were all joined together like some manner of dorm block. Would be cliche if Jolt was just in the southern short side of the U, but he was just as likely to be out in the large courtyard as well.


    I needed to get to a vantage point first.


    Stepped from the bike and checked my drum was in.


    //Clara: Hold for drone release.


    My eyes went over to the building before me. There was a doorway raised off of the ground to the right, which looked like my best way in. Backpack shook slightly as the drone unclipped and dropped, catching itself in the air to hover and move away from me.


    //Clara: Activation successful. Visual and audio clear.


    //Clara: Follow or scout?


    //Gunquake: Follow.


    //Clara: Confirmed.


    While having the techie fly the drone over to the courtyard to try to spy out Jolt or anything to note would be pragmatic, we didn¡¯t know what kind of tech we were dealing with. If they had something that could pick off or detect airborne threats, then having the drone disabled or my cover blown before I had even set foot inside would be a terrible mark on my record.


    I had a lot of people¡¯s interest riding on this going well.


    Moved my bike down toward where the door was, as the drone followed behind me. The buzzing noise drowned out by the shouting and sounds of¡­ either industrial welding or some manner of metal fabrication. That was quite some tech for hobgoblins.


    Stood on the back seat and reached up, the end of my barrel just long enough to clip beneath the wide handle and pull it open. I wavered atop the seat, almost falling off onto the ground. What I wouldn¡¯t give for rocket boots or some other mobility tech.


    Jumped and pulled myself up over the ledge into a gloomy hallway. Immediately my re-breather was filled with a smell that was¡­ kind of old body odor. Just persistent. I could only imagine how bad it would be without my gas-mask. I sighed. There was something¡­ relaxing about being in a darkened building at night. Shotgun loaded and more targets than I could shake a throttled hobgoblin at.


    Hunting down a super, even if they were a villain. Despite the pressurized container of barely held-back secrets rolling around in the back of my mind, I was in my element - for as long as this lasted.


    Took a few steps across the dirtied tiles. Not an often used exit, if the amount of grime around the area was to be believed. Architecture was¡­ it made it seem like they had taken over some ruins from the old world. Patched it up slightly better than the mutants would have. This small corridor led to a wider one that ran left to right. I peered my head down the left side.


    Central of the building, so no windows to the busy courtyard. A few aged bulbs providing dim light occasionally. Plenty of doors - the assumption that it looked like a university dorm or something perhaps held some weight. Most of them closed, as well. Down to the right, the corridor was much shorter, eventually leading to a set of double doors that must open up to the southwest corner of the square U.


    More importantly, there was also a staircase just before the doors. I needed to go higher.


    I double checked the left before I moved. Other than the thrumming din vibrating through the walls, and the soft hum of the drone, there was no sound or movement. It was possible anyone not working was indeed sleeping - if they could, through this racket.


    My feet took me out and down the corridor. Shotgun-arm up just in case, while Clara watched my back. Left hand unclipped the satchel full of zip-ties. Wishful thinking. We made it to the stairwell, and I stepped into cover. Peered back around through the doorway leading to the next section. I could see¡­ light and movement in there, through doors that probably held large glass panels at some point but now were mostly empty holes.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    A wider communal area. From the smells¡­ possibly their dining space. Smelled like burning tires, however. Could just be more industrial stuff. The urge to scout out that way had to be tempered. I needed to stick to the original plan and get a view out to the courtyard. There was no point getting into a fistfight while Jolt and the bomb sat idle outdoors already. A glance upward and it looked as though the stairs went all the way to the top.


    I wondered how Roxy was doing. Sitting at the edge of her seat and watching me attempt to stealth through this building - something I was only marginally decent at. There was brief guilt on her face when she realized she had knocked some past trauma back into my conscious mind, but then just worry, and I should¡­


    No, I should focus.


    Paused at the next floor to make sure the coast was clear. It was, so I continued. Only making a minor amount of noise as my outfit shifted. Third floor¡­ clear as well. I wondered if there were way too many rooms compared to how many hobgoblins lived here. Could be I was in an unused part of the complex. Was I that lucky?


    Based on prior exploits, no, not really.


    Third floor was equally as devoid of life, and I started to get a little more comfortable with the situation. If only I had an easy way down from this height as well. Perhaps Clara could get me something to rappel down buildings, at least. Or like¡­ a zipline that I could fire like a grapple? I had to admit I was slightly jealous of Roxy and her ability to leap from great heights and land with no issue.


    Quake shot sat in the sixth slot of my selectloader, just begging for me to drop from the sky and shake the shit out of my enemies.


    Fourth and final floor. I tilted my head around the left corridor and it was near pitch black for the most part. Didn¡¯t even have the occasional wall light that I could see. It was thanks to this darkness, however, that I could see some slight light at the bottom of some of the doors. Just peeking through the cracks. To the right was just a plain wall. Something had been drawn and scrawled over a couple of times - but it was nothing I recognized.


    Slightly disappointed there wasn¡¯t an easy route from here to the rest of the dorms, I would at least get a good look at the courtyard before having to circle back.


    I stepped over to the first doorway that didn¡¯t have interior light seeping beneath the door. In fact, it wasn¡¯t even closed properly - a few shaded millimeters showing that it was just pulled to, but the latch hadn¡¯t engaged.


    Clara hung back to watch the stairs and the length of the corridor. I took a calm breath and slowly pushed against the door.


    Not entirely silent, but the ambient noise drowned out any complaints as it swung slowly inward. My muscles tensed up at seeing a figure silhouetted at the opposite side.


    A hobgoblin standing out on an open balcony. Took me a brief second to realize that he was facing away from me, a fact confirmed once I clocked that his bare ass was out and he had no face glaring at my entrance. Male was a reasonable assumption. Based on the repetitive motions his right arm made as he looked out at the factory work, he was really passionate about the craft.


    Dirtied mattress on the left side of the room, some decaying wooden furniture on the right covered with empty bottles and other assorted trash. There was a pile of what I assumed was clothing in one corner. I felt a stroke of sympathy for¡­ oh, terrible phrasing.


    The din of metal work below muffled away the sound of Nerve shot hitting him in the back of the head, before this got any more awkward. He dropped to his knees, his brain overloading immediately, and then flopped over backward. Odd eyes rolled back as his tongue lolled out.


    Drone came into the room behind me and spied the state of my first victim. Could almost hear her biting her tongue, trying to stay professional. I grabbed a dirtied sheet and threw it over his lower half, as Clara nudged the door to. First restraints out, and I pushed the hobgoblin onto his side to put his wrists together. They had some manner of tracking device in them, so once I rolled out of here, the cleanup crew could come in and pick up everyone.


    Edged up to the balcony wall and peered to the sides first, to make sure his efforts weren¡¯t some manner of group ritual. Nobody else on this floor, at least. Flashes of light occasionally brightened the areas already reasonably well lit by the floodlights pointed toward the courtyard. I looked over the side.


    I¡¯d been in a steel mill once. Or at least some similar metal fabricating plant - a contract to kill off someone who was making people disappear for credits. Some irony in him meeting the same fate as his victims. Heh, irony. I made the mental note that it was definitely an iron mill, so the story would be more fun to tell. What occupied the courtyard below was something similar to that memory.


    Large vats of molten metal, steam rising out of tall pipes. Sparks spraying from one area where parts were being welded together. A cobbled together processing line, four or five different machines linked by a conveyor belt. Shaping, pressing, and putting bolts or holes in pieces - at least, that¡¯s the best I could see from up here.


    At least two dozen¡­ maybe three dozen hobgoblins working, walking about, or just generally shouting at each other. I hadn¡¯t been given an estimated total from Stacy, but my assumption would be that they worked in shifts. There might be three times the number I could currently see¡­ possibly even just shy of a hundred.


    I didn¡¯t have that many restraints, if so.


    Aside from all the constant work and noisy machinery in the courtyard, over to my right¡ªthe south side¡ªthere was another building built up against the stonework of the dorms. Made of metal sheets, only vaguely more competent than what mutants could put together. Roughly two floors, the top one having a wide window spanning the length of the building. Gave a good view of most of the courtyard factory work.


    Where site overseers would be stationed, no doubt. Probably Jolt God himself if I knew anything about technicians and their obsessions. I lowered myself down and looked back at the drone.


    //Gunquake: Courtyard building looks like best bet.


    //Gunquake: Could either enter from ground floor or get atop the roof from second floor south-side.


    //Clara: Affirmative.


    I entered the small room once more. Machinery was giving me a headache. I was starting to believe that the test was less about getting Jolt, and more about how I could subdue and arrest him without getting beaten to death by the dozens of workers. Satchel had¡­ nineteen restraints left. Even if I knocked everyone out with Nerve shot, they might recover before the League or cops showed up - giving them enough time to recover and free any restrained hobgoblins.


    My eyes went down to my unconscious victim. He was still half on the balcony, and there were no doors to this opening, so he should survive my plan. Selectloader switched in an Incendiary shot, and I fired it into his grubby mattress. It lit up in places where he¡¯d leaked oil or something on it. Small flames that would take time to build, but an eventual distraction. Time for me to head back downstairs.


    A little more slow paced and cautious than my usual fare. Not even really because this was a League job - but more due to the fact that the two women back home would be mad if I was reckless and got hurt. As just a tech hero, I was sure to get my fair share of bumps and scrapes over time. But I shouldn¡¯t roll the dice when it wasn¡¯t needed.


    Paused at the top of the stairs to attach a trip-wire across the top step. No explosives today, just a hazard. Gun-arm then went out as I was halfway down the set of steps. With the hum of my V-Force drive spooling up, I sprayed the first few stairs down with lubricant. As I stopped firing, my gun ejected a sharp hiss like a sneeze to cleanse the barrel of anything remaining.


    Continued down, repeating the process by making the top three stairs between each floor slippery as fuck. The smell was indeed horrific, even through my gas-mask. One last sneeze and I had reached the ground floor once more. Perhaps this block was mostly the workers currently out in the field.


    //Clara: All clear.


    The drone met me at the bottom of the stairwell, content enough that my allergy-bound gun-arm hadn¡¯t drawn the attention of anyone. I thumbed a replacement Incendiary shot from my belt into the selectloader. Hadn¡¯t brought many of them, so I¡¯d need to make them count.


    Up against the double doors leading to the corner building, it looked as though my first guess had been close to correct. Warm glow of a fire from the back corner illuminated a dozen or so picnic tables, as if they had been moved in here when the courtyard was cleared. The smell of something burning, and the jovial, scratchy tones of their voices. Some must be drunk. Raised roof as if the floor above had been destroyed, and no staircase leading upward.


    One exit on the left wall, and I couldn¡¯t see the far right from where I stood. Around ten hobgoblins chatting or chewing through whatever smelled like burned rubber. Most important thing was to make sure nobody set off an alarm.


    No, the most important thing was to win.


    I took a few steps back and then barreled my way through the doors, gun-arm firing out a Water shot into the open fireplace. The bright amber illumination suddenly extinguished with a loud hiss, plunging the room into dim light. Shock had the hobgoblins pause in surprise, their eyes struggling to adjust to the change in brightness.


    Reflex flooded through my synapses, briefly slowing proceedings as my gun-arm worked overtime to pump out five Nerve shots in quick succession. Five hobgoblins at the back right tables flopped over to the floor just as I reached the closest three. Left fist lashed out, the gauntlet catching the stunned reveler in the nose, bursting blood across the second in my way.


    Hand grabbed their rounded head as the first fell back, and I twisted and slammed their face into the wooden table. Either their teeth shattered, or the table splintered. Although¡­ the wooden planks couldn¡¯t bleed, so maybe that narrowed it down. Gun-arm with the follow-up blasted the third with a Nerve shot to the face.


    That left two. I had been accurate with my original count.


    In seeing the very abrupt carnage I had leveled, one decided to split for the door, while the other readied to scream out.


    With Reflex having sunk away from my system, I had to pick my targets. Rubber shot went out, shattering the knee of the running one, causing him to collapse to the ground like a sack of rocks. Chamber went back and forth, pumping in a new Nerve shot as the second screamed. Ear-piercing, even beyond what my ear defenders could mute. Overcharge flashed through and lit up the hobgoblin, silencing them abruptly.


    I put a little anger behind that one.


    A quick Nerve shot into each that had just received some blunt force damage. Empty cartridges bounced across the floor, rolling from my position as I stepped over to the exit door and pressed myself up against the wall.


    Didn¡¯t want to rush into danger, but hanging around too long would get me found out, eventually. I was¡­ still unsure why I even attempted stealth missions.


    Surely I¡¯d be more at home being the diplomat. My abilities might bend towards me being persuasive and amiable, but¡­ I was still a killer. Not much chance I could talk my way into this place and out with the target. It wasn¡¯t even the role the League wanted me to play.


    That¡¯s why we were being sneaky - the vigilante anti-hero lurking in the shadows to deal out some justice in slightly illegal ways. A few broken bones were worth the safety of Goldarch.


    Eyes went down to the hobgoblin with the broken leg playing dead. I might have believed he passed out from the shock if he didn¡¯t keep peeking at me with one eye to see if I had gone yet.


    I lifted his scrawny body up by his thick overalls. Might not have long been off shift. He was sweating now and squirmed from the pain. Small tusks jutting up from a mouth clenched closed. Pushed him up against a wall, his feet dangling a foot and a half from the floor. Barrel of my gun-arm went up to his neck.


    [Tell me where Jolt God is and I¡¯ll spare your life.]


    His pale eyes with oddly shaped pupils tried to avoid looking at me. While one of his hands came up to try to pry my hand away from his clothes, the other pointed at his neck, drawing a cross on it.


    Perhaps he was scared of getting killed for giving away the position of the villain, or¡­


    [Are you mute?]


    He nodded his head rather violently, relieved to be understood and not dead.


    The jumpsuit overalls he had on almost reminded me of what Clara often wore. His hair was cut short on the sides, with a tuft down the center - not that dissimilar to Roxy¡¯s. It was as if someone had merged the three of us into a gangly creature of mild nightmares and terrible body odor.


    [Find me one day and I will get you a vocalizer. Gunquake. Remember that.]


    Fired the Nerve shot into his neck, causing minor scratches, but his brain short-circuited imagining the damage a normal shot would have caused.


    ¡°Hello?¡± a low gravelly voice came from the doorway, as a beam of light washed into the room.


    I rolled my eyes as the chamber ejected the empty shell, and I turned around the corner. Hobgoblin with an older appearance than the rest. No shirt, but his slacks had rows of keys attached. An electric lantern on its last legs in his hand, his eyes widened at seeing me appear around the corner. I grabbed the light and pulled him toward me, striking him in the face with my metal elbow.


    Out cold, and with a nice bruise due to come up tomorrow. I paused for a second to regard him. Had a long knife on the opposite side to his keys, but no time to draw it. If anything, I started to see why Roxy had said being attacked was part of the job. I had thought it strange that the wizard from Five Eyes had come to her house to tussle, but after these roughed-up hobgoblins recovered and knew my face¡­


    I wouldn¡¯t put it past them to seek me out for revenge.


    Doubly so when they put me up on the television. I had overshot escaping the shadows and was heading toward the sky to become a star.


    Perhaps I¡¯d best not fuck this up before I started stroking my own ego.


    After snuffing out the lantern, I chose to leave the keys. Where I was going, they wouldn¡¯t be necessary, and I¡¯d not stand around fiddling to find the right one. If anything, what I needed was an easy way to block doorways. Once Clara had gotten the machine, we¡¯d need to process a bunch of Foam shells again.


    Out through the doors and into the next hallway, and I could see why I hadn¡¯t drawn more attention. The metal building out in the courtyard looked to span inside the regular building, as instead of another corridor this way, there was instead a heavy doorway. Locked, no doubt.


    To my right was a stairwell, leading up. No barrier to entry. Path of least resistance was as good as any - especially since I had decided to drop in to the overseers through their roof. League would eat that shit up. I paused halfway up the first set of stairs and turned back to the small area before the metal door.


    Lubricant sprayed across that square area, as well as the steps up to where I was standing. A hiss as the barrel cleared itself at the end. I tried to keep my mind away from other things that we could fill it with. The expanding Foam? Oh, couldn¡¯t help myself.


    I hadn¡¯t bothered restraining any of the dining room workers, as I could see the bigger picture. A quick glance at the drone inspecting my handiwork with my new tank, and I was all but set, knowing what I had to do to impress the League here.


    First thing, though¡­ I needed to find an excuse to try out Triple shot.

 72 - Shock Therapy

    On the west side of the southern building, I paused on the stairs to the second floor. Voices. I pressed myself against the wall and held my hand out. Clara landed the drone on it expertly, the spinning blades powering down so that she was silent. Two figures stepped out into the stairwell on the floor just below us.


    Had they heard me?


    I trained my hearing to try to pick their conversation up - they had stopped before descending. Both with gruff tones and rougher language than I was used to, but one of them seemed more annoyed than the other.


    Gist of it seemed to be one was keen to go downstairs and get something to eat, but the other was griping that they were behind quota and Jolt God would be angry if they left their shift before the work was done. They also used plenty of swear words and other slang I hadn¡¯t heard before, but by the end of it, the pair turned back and grumbled their way toward whatever was on the first floor.


    I gave the drone a nod and after the short delay; it powered back up, and I released it into the air beside me. Satisfied, I allowed myself to exhale. While this mission would inevitably turn into an all-out brawl¡ªas did most of my work¡ªI was keen to delay that as long as possible. Less chance of getting a sword or bullet through my head that way.


    This section of the hobgoblin outpost had more activity. Given that things looked to work in shifts, I shouldn¡¯t have to worry about running into too many random opponents. I was¡­ almost disappointed. Usually I found comfort in chaos, although often that¡¯s what led me closer to the grave.


    There was another reason I wanted something a little extra, however. Ever since we had dredged up my old call sign, there had been a lump of something just sitting in the back of my head. At first I thought it was just my emotions or a little trauma weighing on me. Wasn¡¯t everyday you got to briefly relive being left to die in a ditch.


    By whom, though?


    No, not important right now. I was pretty sure that the aching feeling in my mind was some more synapse powers, eager to slime their way back into my conscious thoughts. Maybe not new¡­ but an extension? Last time I got something worthwhile was under duress, but this felt like something already in plain view, just dried over like a forgotten grave.


    If I had more time to focus on it¡­


    I stopped at the edge of the second floor, back against the wall. Could hear slight movements in the room around the corner. I didn¡¯t want to sit around all evening, but I needed more information on what I was about to step into.


    Hmm. Reflex was like an Overcharge for the synapses that controlled my shotgun¡­ but maybe I was being too strict with it. My whole arm was controlled by synapses.


    I only had so much time before either my decoy fire or one of my pools of lubricant was found. Through a little luck I had made it almost to my destination, but now it was time for a little old Dubs action.


    //Gunquake: Making my move, breaking cover.


    //Clara: Affirmative, I¡¯ll watch your six.


    We needed to get the drone a gun.


    I took a breath in and then stepped out around the corner. A small control room had been set up in this lobby area. On the right side wall was a long computer that looked a good decade out of date, and totally out of place here in the hobgoblin building. Two workers were sat staring at the flat monitors, although one looked asleep.


    Left side of the room had a table covered in empty bottles and half-eaten food, a pair of feet on it as another hobgoblin sat leaning back on a small wooden chair. Just behind him was another, standing and doing maintenance on a held weapon. Both of them looked more like security guards than workers, given their outfits.


    They also looked in my direction as I stepped in.


    Nerve shot into one as I received return fire from what looked to be some manner of crossbow. The sleeping worker startled and fell from their chair, while the one who had been focused on the monitors spun around in shock. Second nerve shot came out before the security hob¡¯ could reload his weapon.


    As empty shells bounced on the stone floor, I put the other two into states of unconsciousness. I was somewhat disappointed with their lack of combat-readiness. Almost felt bad about just strolling through and knocking all of them out with such ease. Had I gotten that much stronger? Quicker?


    -Minor piercing wound (Left Clavicle)


    I rolled my eyes at the notification and pulled the bolt from my upper chest. Body armor had removed most of the force of it, and despite it breaking the skin, I was certain I¡¯d heal over it in no time. As I dropped the small length of sharp metal, I wondered if any of my Advanced level abilities were something to do with my ¡®class¡¯.


    Instead of jumping to any conclusions, I walked around and put restraints on all four hobgoblins in this room. Shot a brief glance at the drone as it hovered over the control panels, while I clipped the last of our opponents up. This one was female, and looked rather sad, being relaxed and unconscious. Perhaps I was too used to fighting hardened thugs and wasteland mutants. While the hobgoblins under Jolt God were an enemy of Goldarch, the individuals I had come across weren¡¯t really built and ready for fighting.


    Felt like I was punching down. That might just be part of this test.


    Agent W would have had no issue carving his way through this place, breaking necks and blowing bloody chunks from the wiry framed creatures. Had spending time being cracked open by Roxy and Clara softened me up to having empathy? Was this my bardic nature bubbling to the surface, causing me to want to make friends rather than fill body bags?


    //Clara: This is interesting, Gunquake.


    //Clara: Looks like they have an old drop-pod launcher somewhere.


    //Clara: This is the controller unit connected to it.


    I shuffled my introspection to the side and stepped over to where the drone was turning slowly to take in the long panels of switches, dials, and flat screens brimming with green shapes and text.


    //Gunquake: Drop-pod launcher?


    //Clara: Think of it like a space shuttle, but for a single humanoid occupant.


    //Clara: And used to cover maybe five or so miles, like a mortar.


    //Gunquake: That¡¯s safe?


    //Clara: To varying degrees.


    //Clara: It looks like they are repurposing it to launch their bombs.


    My head nodded slowly. While the League had said there was a bomb, it didn¡¯t take a technical genius to see the amount of production taking placing in the courtyard. They were making a lot more than just a singular munition.


    //Clara: Launch bay has five pod launchers, but one is out of operation.


    //Clara: Others currently unoccupied¡­


    //Clara: But the coordinates for the landing spot are a suburb in Goldarch west of here.


    //Gunquake: Are you able to change the coordinates?


    //Clara: I¡­ think so¡­ yes - look over this side.


    I followed the drone to the right, as she hovered near a board with some open ports. From beneath the lingering techie, a small cable detached and hung down. Didn¡¯t need to be too knowledgeable to recognize this as a Universal Electronic Tech connector. The things had become standard across a lot of the continent a couple of decades ago, bringing a golden era where most things now had a standard connector type rather than dozens of variants.


    While I kept an ear open to our surroundings, I guided the plug into the waiting socket on the board. Clara even managed to keep things professional.


    //Clara: Connected.


    //Clara: Did you want to disable it?


    //Gunquake: Negative. Change coordinates to the following.


    I¡¯d brought up a map in my lense quickly, and sent her some details across. Couldn¡¯t linger here for too long because I needed to find a window - something this room lacked. I closed my eyes and tried to filter out the noise surrounding me. As much as I had the basics of a plan in place, the means to fulfill it were¡­ well, I¡¯d be hoping for a little luck to smooth out the edges.


    Standard, at this point.


    //Clara: Completed. Please disconnect me.


    I did as she asked, thankful that she didn¡¯t question what I had planned. Either because she could read between the lines, or she was playing this sidekick gig rather dry. We still needed time to ease into what our in-field partnership could accomplish. I reiterated the thought that the drone could do with a gun.


    Or what we really needed was an influx of credits.


    While the continued drone of factory work vibrated through the walls, I stepped toward the next doorway.


    I started to see why there were few tech superheroes, and that most of them seemed to come from money or require a lot of resources. It was probably fine for Bucket, but for a misfit crawling out of the wastelands, I only had a slim chance due to the stockpile of blood money I had been hoarding like a dragon.


    With me building up the best sidekick I could possibly ask for, and trying to sequester enough to get a new face, there wasn¡¯t a lot of funds left for making me as obnoxious as possible. I was a mixture of different cybernetic class parts and gear grades. Some of it odd or civilian spec, others decent enough for an A-Rank hero.


    Boot kicked the door open. A small room illuminated brightly by the large open window on the left side. Singular hobgoblin stood there with large headphones on, working some levers as he glared idly out to the factory work. Hopefully it wasn¡¯t anything mission critical.


    Nerve shot before he even noticed I was there. Restrained, and I dragged his body over to the back of the room against a grubby table and pair of chairs. Could feel the grains of sand fall through the hourglass, almost time to make my grand entrance.


    Stepped over to the open window and could sense the heat of the production line radiating throughout the courtyard. Metal roof of the overseer¡¯s building was about a dozen feet drop from my current position.


    I heard yelling and narrowed my eyes out to the moving machinery. Had I been spotted in the window already? Or the lack of movement from whatever the worker had been doing raised suspicion? I saw a hobgoblin in a welding mask point upwards, to the top of the southwest of the dorms. My eyes followed suit - and the wisps of dark smoke from the fire I had started were now billowing from the open balcony.


    Part one complete.


    Several started to down tools and make their way to that side of the courtyard. Others looked concerned but couldn¡¯t tear themselves away from the important machinery operation, instead just yelling unintelligible things at those less critical to the metal processing.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    We needed a little more chaos before I could introduce myself.


    Gun-arm went up, selectloader pushing in a different cartridge. While most attention was focused on my left side, I aimed over at one of the machines on the right side - nearer the back of things.


    An unheard thunk from my shotgun and the tall stamp-press machine burst out with a Smoke shot. Didn¡¯t look entirely believable, but if enough eyes were looking at the actual fire, then they¡¯d be in enough of a panic to not question the apparently malfunctioning apparatus.


    //Gunquake: Keep some distance, I¡¯m going in.


    //Clara: Affirmative.


    Would be embarrassing to take the drone out myself. I¡¯d never hear the end of it. With the workers in disarray, I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Thumbed in a replacement Smoke shell.


    And then loaded up a Triple shot.


    With little ceremony, I stepped onto the panels and swung myself out of the window. A brief amount of vertigo and fresh air, and then I hit the metal paneling on the roof.


    As I went to roll, a large section groaned and squealed - my hopes that it wasn¡¯t built too well paying off. With a heavy thunk and clatter of ejected steel bolts, I collapsed inward to the building below.


    Gun-arm fired the Triple shot, V-Force drive crackling as three shells pulsed out together as one. Quake. Smoke. Smoke.


    As I landed and rolled, the rest of the structure groaned and vibrated, my signature attack threatening to disassemble the whole thing with the pulses of V-Force power. Dense fog had obscured the wide chamber as soon as I was back up to my feet - but I could see the outlines of those within it.


    Five or six normal hobgoblins, but there was one close by that had a larger silhouette. Maybe armor or¡ªmore likely¡ªsome kind of tech.


    Gun-arm went up, and I fired a Nerve shot into him. My muscles tensed up as a blue light radiated from their position. Force field. Boots bit into the loose metal panels on the floor and I launched toward the shape and lashed out with a kick, aiming for his head.


    I snapped back as the crackle of lightning burst from the figure, arcing through the thick gray smoke and running up my leg. It felt numb now as I tried to ready myself. Reactive armor - something I wanted to deal with speed supers. Almost nice to see it in action.


    ¡°What pitiful mortal stands against Jolt God?¡± the mysterious creature, who was probably Jolt God, screeched through the obscuring cloud.


    Like the rest of the hobgoblins in the room, he was at least stuck in place for another couple of seconds while my Quake shot reverberated through the flimsy overseer chamber. Then again, so was I, until I regained use of my leg. Perhaps I¡¯d ham things up for the League.


    [Gunquake. I¡¯m here to prevent your attack on Goldarch.]


    ¡°Sounds like I have been blessed with fresh tech parts,¡± the response came, hearing the slight robotic reverberation at the end of my sentence.


    While I was reasonably sure the odd angle at which the prior roof now sat below my feet was due to landing on a hobgoblin or two, I was thankful at least I hadn¡¯t landed on Jolt. That would have looked really bad for the League.


    //Gunquake: Find me the launchers.


    //Clara: Affirmative.


    Part of me missed our usual candor. The other part raised an eyebrow at how quickly my smoke was dissipating - not only through the wide window taking up one side of the room, but they must have some manner of induction fans in here as well.


    I took the last second of Quake vibration to tap one of the workers with Nerve, turning as I reloaded to debilitate a second. Crackle of electricity from Jolt drew my attention as the rest of the hobs¡¯ recovered from my entrance.


    A zap of bright blue snapped across the room to strike me, my boots grounding me partially, but left arm now also sagged against the shock twisting through my muscles. Stims kicked in and I felt warm.


    Chamber clacked open, awaiting my response, as I watched the smoke wash away from my target.


    Slightly taller than most of his companions, Jolt was an amalgamation of shoddy tech and scarred skin. Briefly, I supposed most tech heroes and villains would have some identical streaks to them. The hobgoblin boss had two gauntlets - large fists with various pistons and wires snaking through exposed parts. Electricity currently flickered and arced between the parts just behind the knuckles.


    Shoulder pads stood up from his narrow shoulders, each with an electrified coil on top. Helmet with metal prongs pointing upward that looked like an appliance plug. Body was mostly bare, his gray-green skin bearing the marks of long healed burn marks. A wide belt encircled his narrow hips - the source of his projectile force-field, I was sure. Thick boots that were probably more than a fashion statement.


    While his red eyes burned with fury at me, he didn¡¯t seem to have any cybernetic parts. It was all external - although his aptitude for getting them functional was far beyond the smarts of most of his kind. This outpost also tasted like a treasure trove of things to bring back home for Clara.


    League probably had a dim view on looting, however.


    ¡°Robot-human, parts too large, but I¡¯ll take you apart all the same.¡± He grinned, sharp teeth running with fresh saliva as his fists powered up again.


    [I¡¯m about to rain on your parade, criminal.]


    Internally, I cringed. This was it, though - living the cliche I had tried to avoid¡­ would be my full-time vocation if I wanted it.


    Gun-arm flashed upward as I fired a sideloaded Water shot into the part of the roof above him that hadn¡¯t collapsed. The confidence in his face quickly sunk away as the expanded droplets splashed down on him.


    Bright sparks and crackles from the exposed power being doused in liquid briefly blinded everyone in the metal room. I wouldn¡¯t be so easily distracted.


    Putting full faith in my stims powering my inert muscles, I leaped toward Jolt. Gun-arm pulled back. I wanted to test out exactly how right I could be.


    Instead of allowing Reflex to take control of my firing mechanisms, I instead forced it around the parts that just moved my arm. Elbow and shoulder joints. As I neared the disorientated villain, my arm darted forward with an audible snap. It wrenched at where the arm was grafted to the rest of me, but was a punch with three times the force I could usually pull off.


    The end of the barrel struck the central part of his belt. Jolt flung backward, stumbling into the rows of control panels just below the open window. Core part of his belt was cracked and leaked some necessary fluid.


    He growled at me, both gauntlets disconnecting from his arms and dropping to the floor. ¡°I don¡¯t like tricks,¡± he hissed, twitching through the pain I had caused him.


    Before I could formulate a decent response, his outstretched hand slammed at a button to his right. Alarm bells started to ring within the room, with a siren spooling up to blare amongst the machinery outside.


    Chamber clacked in a Nerve shot, and he¡­ turned and leaped through the window.


    Slippery. I turned and nailed one of the pensive workers who had drawn a weapon but not had the courage to step toward me. Reloaded as I looked to the last who was still standing, frozen in fear.


    [Medical attention is required in the dining area.]


    Didn¡¯t receive a response, but I had already turned and jettisoned my own way out of the window. Landed into a roll on dirty gravel and metal shavings. Ahead of me, the scrambling Jolt ran into the east wing of the dorms.


    //Clara: Launchers are in the east wing.


    //Clara: Hold.


    //Clara: He dropped a prox grenade behind second machine.


    //Clara: Contact behind you.


    I looked up briefly to see the drone hovering a good twenty or so feet above me. Quite likely, she had just saved my legs from being blown off. I wondered if the villain was planning a last-ditch attack against Goldarch, or more of his tech was hidden that way. Maybe he had read the script and wanting a cliche showdown.


    Turning, there were now a handful of hobgoblins who had some manner of bravery - and a selection of crossbow-styled weapons. I dove into a roll behind the closest machine as several sharpened metal bolts whizzed through the air where I had been standing. The vibrating machine was warm to the touch, even through my glove. Large enough to obscure me¡­


    Original plan was to drop a Smoke in the path I had just been, and circle further into the production line so that the hobs¡¯ might assume I went ahead. I¡¯d let them set off the trap laid for me and then proceed.


    But¡­ I didn¡¯t want them to suffer that fate.


    I grunted. Getting soft. Smoke shot went out just before they had tried to peek the corner. Instead of circling, I was right in their faces already. Gauntlet lashed out into the first while a second took Nerve to the gut. Spun through the obscuring cloud as one made a reckless attack with the sharp sides of their crossbow. Missed me and they received a metal elbow to the temple in return.


    Stamped down on a foot and wrestled the weapon away from the next, tossing it back behind the second machine. Nerve shot sealed the deal on the group.


    As the proximity grenade exploded, I emerged from the resultant dark cloud billowing from the scarred ground, pulling out the bolts from my right thigh and left of my stomach.


    //Clara: Route to the building is clear.


    There was enough chaos whirling around the place that I didn¡¯t have to worry about fighting fifty of the bastards. Most of them tied down on the west side. I made it across the heated and bright courtyard without any other group accosting me, to go straight toward the small doorway my target had escaped into.


    Drone hovered down to meet me. As nice as it would be to have the forewarning of what was inside, it was too dangerous to send her in first. I had some ideas of how to correct that, when we had our debriefing together. Assuming I didn¡¯t find a way of messing this up, at least.


    Stepped into the darkness and a metal bolt bounced from my cyborg shoulder.


    ¡°Ah, fuck!¡± my assailant screeched from down the end of a short corridor. He tripped over his overalls as I nailed his legs with a Nerve shot. ¡°He¡¯s coming!¡± he continued to wail, as if it hadn¡¯t been clear from his sudden injury.


    I sighed and dropped my drum mag down into the clip on my belt, replacing it with the Smoke ten-mag, although it was a few short by now.


    First one into the chamber and out at the squirming worker. Gray cloud bloomed up to obscure the area. A couple of premature bolts clattered at the wall before I got close. Too much ambient noise for them to hear me step into the room, and no visual clues. I stooped and put restraints on the one who was trying to crawl away.


    ¡°Ah! He¡¯s got me!¡±


    Three others in the room in the back left corner, so I strode to the back right. Judging by their body language, they weren¡¯t prepared to fight against someone like me. The one who had been holding their shot fired off into where I had been, while one of them was really struggling to reload - panic evident even if I could just see their wavering outline.


    Elbow to the side of the head of the first, my hand grabbing and twisting the weapon away from the second. I dropped it to the floor as he rotated and clipped restraints on him - before kicking him into the third. Gun-arm went out and pushed the last staggered worker into the back wall, barrel up to his neck.


    [Drop it.]


    Crossbow clattered to the floor as his hands went up into the air.


    ¡°Don¡¯t shoot!¡± he begged.


    [Where are the important inventions stored?]


    The hobgoblin shook with fear beneath the press of my weapon. ¡°Third floor. There are s-stairs just around the corner.¡±


    [Try to live a life without hurting others.]


    ¡°Y-yes? I will-¡±


    Quick snap of my elbow to the side of his head and he was unconscious. His limp body collapsed to the floor just as the smokescreen was clearing. I could get used to this superhero thing.


    No point asking where Jolt God had gone, as that would have been too personal. A neutral location was easier to get out of them, even if the answer led to the same conclusion.


    Drone came in as the cloud cleared, Clara unable to see through the fog - I assumed. It also revealed the worker who I had only shot with Nerve in the legs. His wide eyes looked up at me, considering what his best options were in this situation. I pointed my gun at the one I had just knocked out.


    [Was he lying?]


    The hobgoblin licked at his lips, not entirely trusting me for some reason.


    [If you are truthful and can stay quiet for ten minutes, I won¡¯t come back and remove all your teeth with my boot.]


    ¡°H-he was telling the truth,¡± he yammered, before immediately clamming up. He looked as though he believe I might count that outburst as breaking the be-quiet rule.


    I nodded slowly and made the show of grinding my heel against the dirtied stone floor. The tension in his body as he got the picture was clear enough to me that he understood. So I turned and left through the door.


    //Clara: Launchers are on the third floor as well.


    //Clara: A section of the roof is removed.


    //Gunquake: Understood.


    There were indeed stairs just around the corner. My right eye twitched at the possibility of there being another proximity explosive¡­ but the villain hadn¡¯t been carrying much on him. Rather than launch rockets toward the city, it was equally as likely he was getting backup weapons to come finish me off.


    Up to the first landing, and I sprayed the stairs down with lubricant.


    -Tank Reserves 10%


    Gun-arm sneezed to clear the barrel, although I didn¡¯t know how well that could really do the job. No doubt my new ability would require further and more regular maintenance on my weapon. Something I was certain Clara would jump at the chance to do.


    Paused at the exit of the first floor and looked around the corner. Rounded metal shapes all stacked in rows. Three high and at least a dozen deep. The drone went ahead of me slightly to get a better view.


    //Clara: Hollow missile shells.


    //Clara: Storage before payload processing.


    Back to the stairs and the second floor had¡­ what looked to be some manner of electric gate preventing access to the room beyond. Thick metal panels ran around the frame, with a blue glow in certain sections. Similar to the projectile force field, a high-tech locked door, essentially. If I really wanted to, I could just hit the edges of the frame with a High Explosive shot and sever the connectors. Usually, this kind of thing would be installed somewhere where the building wasn¡¯t built to where you could almost just punch your way through the structure.


    //Clara: Potentially where the payload is stored.


    //Clara: Readings suggest something volatile, but nothing I can pinpoint.


    I turned the corner up to the next staircase, a bright light immediately illuminating me.


    Blinded, a burning sensation that warmed my entire body overwhelmed the rest of my senses.

 73 - Soft Launch

    I stumbled back around the corner, my back hitting the wall and ejecting the breath from my lungs. Eyes stung and my re-breather was thick with the smell of burning leather. Tactical gear was hot to the touch, and I could feel warmth radiating from my gun-arm.


    Stims washed through me and kept me lucid as my vision cleared.


    //Clara: High-yield photon laser


    //Clara: Sounded like the power source malfunctioned.


    It turned out that I much preferred doing the ambushing rather than being ambushed. There were only a handful of times a contract target had run from me, and it was normally just a small firearm or group of goons that would be flung in my path.


    A lesson learned - I couldn¡¯t be so sloppy against villains as compared to average criminals. If the power hadn¡¯t run dry when it did, I would be a lot more melted together. Nothing fatal, as I had moved out of the way - but certainly with serious burns on my front. Something of that size would be able to melt flesh from bone, if given enough time.


    I flexed around to test my gear. All seemed to be fine and was rapidly cooling in the natural air. Would need to test the integrity of the straps and shells when I got home, but I hadn¡¯t exploded or fallen apart.


    Not taking another chance, I selectloaded a Rubber shot, tilting to fire it at an angle to the wall opposite. A ricochet up the stairs and the smash of glass. If Jolt was smart, he wouldn¡¯t be standing around with a broken machine - but I wanted to make sure it was inert. Without a working bulb, it would be useless.


    So, I powered up the stairs. Third floor, and the stairs up to fourth, were blocked by debris, anyway. I rolled across the broken glass through the doorway, around the circular device that had tried to fry me.


    Gun-arm hummed with V-Force as I righted into a crouch, but I found no target.


    Or rather, there was too much going on to see the target.


    Part workshop, part armory - the rooms in this section had all been broken down to form a long and cluttered hallway. Benches, containers full of miscellaneous parts and junk, devices in mid-assembly or put out on display. It would be impossible to tell if something had been grabbed to utilize or set as a trap for me.


    The drone hovered in beside me, and I watched as she bobbed up and down as if unable to contain her excitement. While I was sure none of the tech here would be near the quality she would find acceptable for either of us, it was the nature of the ideas presented here she enjoyed. Like reading through the pages of Jolt God¡¯s brain itself.


    //Clara: Stairs to the launchers are about halfway down this room.


    //Gunquake: Understood.


    Just an unfortunate coincidence that both our goals took us through the villain¡¯s lair of potentially deadly gizmos. Still, I¡¯d stalked worse through more dangerous terrain. Possibly.


    Thumbed a replacement shell to fill my selectloader to max, before standing slowly. Switched the magazine from Smoke to Tazer. The place was like a maze that went back and forth between worktables and stacks of metal and half-complete machinery. The villain could be hiding in any corner - or could easily have sprinted off toward the launchers, leaving me simmering in the stairwell.


    While most of his subordinates hadn¡¯t been too bloodthirsty, Jolt himself had been nothing but wily and full of disdain for my presence. Didn¡¯t even give me a chance to sweet talk him. That being the case¡­ although running off to save his own skin was likely, I was willing to gamble on the fact that he wanted me dead overriding the real possibility that he could escape if quick enough.


    This was his factory-lair, after all.


    I moved between the next row of gadgets and dissembled appliances they had probably stolen from the nearest dump. Ears focused on any kind of sound as my eyes tried to find the gap where the staircase would be. Maybe I needed goggles with infra-red or other detection things built in. Night vision would be somewhat useful. More ideas for the¡­


    My breath held in my lungs as my feet paused. A split second and then I whipped around, as Jolt leaped up on one of the tables, managing to hide from me and be patient enough for me to wander past. He now held something that looked like a speargun, although the shining rod loaded into it crackled with activated electricity.


    Tazer shot fired quicker than he could aim at me, my years of experience and Advanced abilities just making me quicker on the draw. The arcs of blue danced around him, darting themselves into the machinery part of his weapon and leaving the hobgoblin villain mostly unharmed.


    He grinned. ¡°I¡¯m the Jolt God, stupid human. I bring the lightning down on you!¡±


    Denied. Reflex rushed around my system, some extra anger still lingering at him trying to melt me to death. Six shots of Tazer straight into his held weapon. After the fifth, the mechanism inside whatever he had built overloaded and burst, sending dark smoke wafting away and his aim wavering. He still managed to fire the sharpened rod at me, but as he flinched away from the snap of the breaking electronics, the projectile grazed my cybernetic arm instead of hitting center body mass.


    Sixth hollow shell bounced on the stone floor as I loaded another that hopefully would hit the villain himself.


    He dropped the weapon and tried to drop back behind the workbench as I managed to clip him on the shoulder. Amongst the clang of falling components, I ran over to follow-up with another shot - but he had gone. Scurried off like a rat.


    [Turn yourself in, Jolt. Do not make this any harder than it needs to be.]


    My advice fell on deaf ears, as the workshop fell into silence once more - aside from the low hum of Clara watching me. No doubt the villain had scrabbled around for something else to assail me with. I was growing¡­ tired of this cat-and-mouse game. In saying that, going full non-lethal hadn¡¯t been so bad.


    Mostly because of the attitude of most of the hobgoblins. I had fought human thugs with more spite and criminality in them. A drum full of normal shot and I would have been finished by now, but I was learning to be less of a killer. If the hobs¡¯ held a grudge and brought the fight to my doorstep, that would be different, however.


    Had plenty of space on the outskirts for shallow graves, especially for those endangering my own little enclave. Thus, my softer touch was a little bit of ¡®treat others as you wish to be treated¡¯. Once I¡¯d captured Jolt for the League, then¡­ well, best cross bridges when I got to them.


    Dropped the magazine from my gun-arm to replace it with my drum of Nerve once more, and lobbed the near-empty Tazer mag out down the room. It struck a wide metal can with a clang; the container falling off the rickety shelving and bursting its payload out onto the floor with a resounding crash.


    My own ploy - I used the noise to mask my movement and strode quickly through the maze. Caught the sight of the stairs on my right, and could almost feel the cooler night air seeping down. Turned and flashed out with a Nerve shot as Jolt popped out to throw something at me. The mind-altering payload struck his throwing arm, and he dropped the handful of tech.


    I did my best to turn from it, but a bright yellow light crackled all around us. Some form of flashbang that tickled at my legs as much as it filled my vision with an afterimage of the cluttered workshop. Gun-arm hissed sharply, and I spun back to where he had been, my eyes gradually clearing.


    Although I was sure he had been affected by it too, he wasn¡¯t where I last saw him. I took a few dizzied steps over to where he had popped up from, but the wavering light in my eyes didn¡¯t help pick up any clues.


    Of course, the sound of a grunt and then a thud did.


    I turned, a faux-smile crinkling the edges of my eyes, to see the hobgoblin pressed up against the wall by the stairs. In seeing me, he attempted to sprint up to freedom - but instead, his feet just rotated in place as if he was a cartoon character. The puddle of lubricant I had sneezed out, emptying the tank while I was blinded, was now all over his feet as he had run through it to get to the stairs.


    His footing finally gave up the charade, and he spun forward, hitting the stairs with a crack. Chipped one of his tusks right off. He groaned and tried to push himself up, but in falling, he had gotten the smelly stuff all over his arms and torso. Jolt struggled to right himself, before turning his head, eyes burning toward me.


    "You think this will end well? You will rue the day you meddled in my plans, League-shit."


    [If you''re trying to apply to be my nemesis, I expect a much higher caliber, Jolt. Do better.]


    ¡°Bitchless human, I¡¯ll gouge out your-¡±


    Nerve shot struck him in the undefended face, putting him out for the count. It would be difficult enough to restrain him while he was all lubed up without him also squirming around and talking dirty to me. Oh, what had my life become?


    //Clara: Target subdued.


    The techie had warned me that the League was likely to request the recording from her drone after this little adventure. Part of me being here was to drum up marketable clips, after all. One of the reasons I tried to ham things up and pretend to be more heroic than my usual drab fare. I was neutral about it all. It was¡­ work.


    Restraints around the villain¡¯s wrists, and then ankles - I managed to only get a small amount of lubricant on me. With a long step, I managed to make it over the puddle and onto the stairs, the hobgoblin in my other hand.


    I dragged him unceremoniously to the top and turned to see the launchers. Cylinders, much like mortars, stood in a line inside a thick base of metal and electronics. Each was a good eight feet wide and had open faces like a sliding door. First three had rockets in - or whatever type of bombs they had been making, but looked inert, as if they were still doing fit-testing. Lights flashed red on the control panels in front of the trio. Fourth launcher was empty, no lights. The last in the row had something else in it.


    //Clara: A drop-pod. Looks like they haven¡¯t altered this launcher to house the rockets yet.


    As I stepped a little closer, I could see that the fourth one had a panel open, some tools laying strewn around it - there was clearly some modification required for it to turn into something that could fire the missiles.


    I brought Jolt over to the fifth one, popping the latch on the pod and opening the thick door. Inside looked¡­ comfortable. Dense padding surrounded a small chair, the whole thing built to be shock absorbant above all. I slung the villain inside, pushing his legs in so he was all curled up. Fetal. I closed the door and twisted the handle to seal it shut.


    //Gunquake: Apologies for disturbing your reading time, Stacy.


    //Stacy: Not a problem, GQ. How can I help? Are you still on your mission?


    //Gunquake: Tying things up. I need the League to pick up the villain...


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.//Gunquake: But from the following coordinates, if you could kindly arrange.


    //Stacy: Consider it done. Looking forward to the debriefing. GQ.


    Closed down the chat to see Clara hovering over by the control panel. It looked simple enough that I could probably operate it by guessing¡­ although that was a dangerous precedent to set.


    Through chat, she guided through which levers to pull to engage the mortar part - the metal door sliding around to fully encompass the drop-pod. A button needed to be pressed to accept the coordinates she had previously sent through the other control panel, and the mortar adjusted its angle to point toward the city. With the press of a big red button, the deed was done.


    We stepped back to the staircase as whatever tech it used powered up with a hum that vibrated through the very building we stood on. Just as it felt as though the pitch wouldn¡¯t stop rising and it was going to explode, the mortar popped with a thrum, blasting the air around us - the drop-pod jettisoning off in a high arc.


    I watched it careen through the sky until not even the glint of moonlight could pick it up against the darkness of the night. Would land on the outskirts of the city, as close as I could pick without the risk of property damage or a civilian coming across it before the League could.


    //Clara: As far as the League is concerned, the mission is complete, Gunquake.


    //Gunquake: Understood.


    //Gunquake: So now we can have some fun?


    //Clara: Oh? Was this a little too pedestrian for you?


    //Gunquake: You can disconnect if you want to leave.


    //Clara: ¡­


    Fun wasn¡¯t really the word for it. While I was still new to this world of being a superhero, I like to think that I¡­ understood people? Mostly how to convert them into corpses, but as my old life started to empower who I was, I found myself able to empathize more. Twist social situations to not only suit me, but be beneficial to others as well.


    The point was, if I just fucked off right now, the hobgoblins would have a greater desire to hold disdain for this ¡®hero¡¯ who came and kicked their teeth in. There was no point in creating additional trouble for my future self. None more than I was already due.


    [You can have a few minutes, but we¡¯re not taking anything.]


    I stepped back down the stairs into the workshop, ensuring I didn''t slip over on the slick part of the floor. The drone whizzed past me, pausing every so often to observe the various half-formed inventions. While she continued to do that, I went over and sat against the workbench nearest the staircase. Just in case the hobgoblins decided to oust me before we were done here.


    A notification pinged through, taking my focus to my lense.


    //Roxy: Hey~


    //Roxy: Amazing work tonight, Dubs!


    //Dubs: You think so?


    //Roxy: I fucking know so x


    //Roxy: Seeing you in action¡­ your background makes sense.


    //Roxy: Like, other than walking into a laser beam. That was some covert ops shit.


    //Dubs: I¡¯m glad you¡¯re a fan.


    //Roxy: Come home nice and safe soon, okay? We¡¯ll celebrate.


    //Dubs: I like the sound of that.


    By ejecting the villain far from the location, I had forced the win condition. There was no chance any of the hobgoblins would have the time to go rescue him, let alone the inclination. You always removed the head, so that the rest of the body withered away. There was nobody to lead them or whip them up into violence¡ªsomething they clearly weren¡¯t built for.


    I sighed, my re-breather filter spinning around. Although I had gotten away with not melting to death, the heat of the blast had made me exceptionally sweaty. I¡¯d need to check for actual damage when I returned home, but my status was clear. Another bath possibly needed. I seemed to spend half my time amongst bubbles these days.


    Bliss.


    The noise outside had diminished quite a bit. Most of the machinery now powered down or left inert. I couldn¡¯t hear talking or the stomping feet of a formed militia, but it was too soon to find comfort in the brief lull in activities. My eyes went over to the drone, who was still excitedly trying to visually catalogue everything going on here. She was now nearing the end of the long room.


    Despite having performed a couple of sidekick trials, this felt more like being an actual hero for the first time. Like I had stepped out into the real world and started to build a reputation for myself. I had very few living witnesses to my hitman years, so there was a chance I could actually cobble together something of an actual existence.


    I sighed once more and shook my head. If this bullshit was what Boss wanted for me all along¡­ well, I¡¯d still kick the bastard in his balls. If he was alive and had them, at least. I had briefly entertained the idea that Boss was actually just my broken older psyche, or perhaps my skeletal arm living beneath me - and that contracts were something I made up¡­


    But that had too many plot holes. Like with how I got paid for it, and having digital records of his communications. I wasn¡¯t so desperate for answers that I¡¯d stoop to conspiracy.


    I looked up as the drone returned to me.


    //Clara: Everything digitally scanned, at least.


    //Clara: Are you sure we can¡¯t steal anything?


    //Gunquake: Once I¡¯m done here, you won¡¯t need to.


    //Gunquake: Oh, question?


    //Gunquake: You seemed distracted at Stacy¡¯s office earlier. Everything okay?


    //Clara: I was waiting until after the mission¡­


    //Clara: Wren wants to meet with us. I notified her you were interested in discussion.


    //Clara: She made the space.


    //Gunquake: Interesting. Thanks, Clara. Send it through to my calendar.


    It was just a handful of seconds before the ping came through. Tomorrow morning. The fact that the elf wanted to meet was potentially a good sign¡­ although made me wonder why. The rest of the group often said she was the most level-headed, so I wasn¡¯t too worried about any ulterior motives. Maybe I¡¯d see if Roy was up to much in the evening. Belle would have to wait for now.


    With a grunt, I stood back up and headed to the staircase. At the second floor, I stopped to look at the force-field doorway. Part of the mission was also disabling the bombs or whatever the threat to Goldarch was. While I was na?ve enough to believe the hobgoblins would be a bit more lukewarm on assaulting the place I came from - it would only take one fervent believer in Jolt to start the wheels spinning again.


    High Explosive shot blew out a chunk of the wall, loosening the metal struts where the force-field generated from. It crackled and flickered as the static piece became unmoored from the wall. A swift kick and the whole thing popped, expelling a burned ozone smell as the metal piece clanged across the floor inside.


    I stepped in to see a surprisingly small room - with no exit doors. A couple of shelving units with cylindrical barrels on, around the size of a cookie jar each. An¡­ odd unit of measurement for me to make. Two wide metal boxes on raised tables, each humming - warmth radiating that I could feel from here.


    [Something tells me this isn¡¯t a normal payload.]


    First guess would have been something electricity based¡­ but that wasn¡¯t really an effective munition to levy against a city. Other than maybe acting like an EMP? But Clara had said the coordinates had been suburbs. Civilians. Any thought over what his actual motivations had been washed away as the drone skimmed past me to look at the barrels.


    I turned around to look at some¡­ blueprints? On the back wall, there were sheets with sketches and numbers, but the hobgoblins had their own dialect and way of taking notes. Something about what I was looking at was familiar, but I wouldn¡¯t place it.


    //Clara: We need to destroy everything in this room.


    //Clara: In a controlled manner.


    My eyebrow raised as I turned to her, the drone somehow staring at me more seriously than usual.


    [That bad?]


    //Clara: Remember the Flesheater shell I made for you?


    //Clara: That, but worse.


    //Clara: Have you heard of Borehounds before?


    I nodded slowly and shuddered. Not that I could remember where or when I had, but the name was enough to bring my thoughts of them to the forefront of my mind.


    Some creature that was an odd mix of dinosaur, dog, and unbridled disdain for the natural order of things. While most things had a place in the world for good or bad, Borehounds were killed on sight. If you were found to own, trade, or breed them, the jail sentence was incredibly hefty.


    They started out the size of a basketball. Rounded and scaled, with two larger chicken-like feet at the back and smaller forelegs with short, grasping claws. Large dark eyes and rows of teeth like a shark. Mostly mouth and stomach. It ate anything living. Then it grew. A marvel of the natural world that it could convert so much energy from food into growth.


    Most were found and destroyed by the time they got to the size of a large dog, but there were tales of some as big as horses. Even one known as Worldeater, that a mutant tribe in the southeast of the continent intentionally kept in a pit and constantly fed it, until it was the size of a house.


    Not entirely believable, but I couldn¡¯t discount it either. The fact that Jolt God was considering sending these into the city¡­ in a residential district of all places¡­


    Perhaps I should have killed him.


    //Clara: These are mutant hybrids, not the real deal.


    //Clara: Only the pure strain has the capacity for the terrors I''m sure you are imagining.


    //Clara: But intended mass-murder is no less vile, even if inept.


    I agreed on principle. I was a mass-murderer myself, but although I wasn¡¯t keen to throw stones - I never targeted innocents.


    The two tanks were germinators. Removing their power source would be enough to eradicate whatever was within in less than an hour, Clara told me. There were six jars with young versions of the hybrid hounds in, although two looked to have died already. Two Tazer shots killed off the rest. I sighed and left the room.


    Down, around the stairs, and paused at the sight on the ground floor.


    The large metal door was now open, and there was a group of hobgoblins standing around. Well, most of them were laying in disarray on the lubricated floor, with a couple on the dry sides of the pool trying to drag their companions out without getting pulled into the muck themselves.


    In seeing me round the corner, most of them froze, eyes wide and panicked. Aside from the one in the slick puddled who tripled their efforts to scramble away and mostly just remained in place, kicking at their companions.


    I held up a hand and sat down on the stairs.


    [Jolt God is gone now. Already in the city and arrested.]


    Their shock remained, some of them now looking rather confused. One in a jumpsuit who was also sporting a colorful bruise on his head drew up the courage to speak.


    ¡°Did you use t-the launchers?¡±


    [Yes.]


    ¡°Are you¡­ are you going to arrest us t-too?¡± His eyes narrowed, but it was more of a wince¡ªexpecting doom¡ªthan suspicion.


    [I have no need, unless you¡¯d like me to? Running a private factory isn¡¯t a crime, as far as I know. Although¡­]


    My eyes went back up to the floor above us, and I pointed my finger in the direction of the room we had just left.


    [Borehounds are incredibly illegal. If you disavow Jolt God and promise not to do anything that could harm Goldarch, then this could be the last you see of me.]


    Their shock subsided, and their weird eyes went to each other - some murmurs escaping their lips before the bruised one spoke again.


    ¡°What if he comes back and is mad? Makes us work again?¡±


    [I will give you a way of contacting me and I will deal with him again. Whose side would you rather be on? I offer you the prospect of self regulation and League protection, while he works you for sinister motives that cause heroes like me to show up.]


    The worker licked his lips, tongue running up a tusk. ¡°I can¡¯t speak for us all, but I like working here, and don¡¯t like getting punched in the head.¡±


    [Statistics show those aligned with the League receive eighty percent less head-punches. Plus, you have a good thing going on here. I don¡¯t doubt you could turn this into a more lucrative and sustainable enterprise now that you¡¯re not beholden to a megalomaniac.]


    Perhaps I had overdone it a little, as the hobs¡¯ looked halfway between expecting imminent death or being completely star-struck. I supposed that¡¯s just how I wanted it, in retrospect. I mostly just wanted to get through the lubricant without falling over and looking like a dickhead.


    //Clara: A couple of Water shots will break it down enough.


    Ever my savior, I did just as the techie suggested. The hobgoblins winced and squealed as I fired twice amongst them, soaking the ones laying on the floor with the expanding water. With the suggestion of my hand, they managed to stand up to their feet and step cautiously away from the area.


    I hit it with another Water just to be sure, before I stepped down myself.


    [It is understandable that you do not trust me. I hold no grudge if you don¡¯t take me up on anything I have suggested - I only reiterate that threatening Goldarch will only make things worse for you.]


    They gave me some begrudging grunts and half-hearted murmurs, thankful at least that I wasn¡¯t shooting them currently, even if they couldn¡¯t commit to anything I was saying. My feet took me into the dining area, where they had re-lit the fireplace and were using the area as a makeshift hospital. Many hobgoblins were still unconscious, a couple with broken bones or heavy bruising. I glanced at the mute worker who was still out of it, drooling on the blanket he had been placed on.


    Would he take me up on my offer? Didn¡¯t really matter at present. Sometimes a promise was enough to change the course of your life. Maybe I¡¯d have an army of hobgoblins march on my house to get revenge. Their loyalty to the villain too great. They didn¡¯t seem like¡­ expendable goons to me. A nuanced take for me at this stage in my life.


    I stopped at the end of the room before the glass-less double doors and turned back to the group who had been following me nervously.


    [This is where we part ways. I strongly suggest nobody follows me.]


    They didn¡¯t need telling twice. A chorus of acknowledgments and eager nods met me before I left.


    //Clara: Hold so that I can dock.


    //Clara: No need for me to follow and record the drive home.


    //Clara: Just message if any issue, I¡¯ll keep audio on.


    //Gunquake: Understood. Thanks, Clara.


    //Clara: Thank me later~


    I stood in position so that the drone could tilt, powering down as the magnets clipped it into place on my backpack. Just for my peace of mind, I preferred this to having her hang around nearby in the van. Was almost like going solo once more, just with some added key information.


    Down the short corridor I had entered from, I lowered myself into a sitting position on the edge of the doorway. A fresh breeze cooled me before I pushed off, landing just past the bike against the wall.


    Not a bad evening.


    I grabbed a hold of the handlebars and walked it away from the wall to point it in the rough direction of home. Swung my leg over and sat down. Hand hovered over the start button, before I paused.


    My eyes blinked twice as I stared at the inert display. Then I turned my head and looked out to the wastelands to my left. Barely lit by the dim moonlight, nothing was visually there past the side of the hobgoblin dorms until the distant horizon. I lowered my hand down to my side and held my breath.


    I continued to glare at the silent emptiness of the wastes, before breaking the silence myself.


    [Silhouette, I assume?]

 74 - Professional Chat

    A soft breeze ran through me, cooling the drying sweat on my body. For a handful of seconds, silence was the only response to my question - until the area a dozen feet away from me shimmered, causing my muscles to tense up.


    Soft golden light burned away at reality like a page of a book, slowly revealing a figure emerging from some kind of cloaking tech. Dressed from head to toe in dark armor, Silhouette had the appearance of a cyber-ninja. The only part of him that was not matte shades of deep gray and black was a singular eye in the middle of his face - a featureless light that glowed a soft yellow.


    ¡°The League has sent me to observe maybe two dozen heroes-in-training, yet you are the first to make note of my presence. Gunquake, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    His voice was slightly off. Not quite as robotic as mine, but there was a minor tinny quality to it that couldn¡¯t just be his mask obscuring his mouth.


    [I assumed that you wanted me to see you, otherwise I wouldn¡¯t have.]


    ¡°Perceptive.¡± He crossed his arms and tilted his head. ¡°I didn¡¯t see everything you got up to, as I remained on the roof, but it looked as though you handled yourself well.¡±


    [Will you be watching all of my trials?]


    ¡°You¡¯ll never know. Ha-ha.¡± The hero relaxed, his body language loosening. ¡°I was just a little curious about you, compared to most others. There aren¡¯t many supers who stick to the shadows like us. I wanted to see if we were cut from the same cloth.¡±


    [I¡¯m not sure I possess the self-confidence to put myself in the same box as an S-Rank hero.]


    Silhouette shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re running with some handicaps at present. Tech route is difficult without good tech, but from what I saw in the courtyard¡­ just keep at it. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be nipping at my heels in no time.¡±


    His face-light bloomed slightly brighter before dimming again - a couple of short pulses that I chose to read as a jovial tone to his statement. I wasn¡¯t sure he could really read my face either, so that seemed fair.


    [I will keep trying to improve, and do my best for Goldarch and the League.]


    ¡°Ha-ha.¡± He clicked his fingers. ¡°Already got the necessary ass-kissing part perfected. League will be in touch once they¡¯ve confirmed the full stats of your mission, and then arrange a proper debriefing before your next trial. I¡¯ll need to give them my report on your actions before I get some sleep as well.¡±


    [You¡¯ll put a good word in for me then, I hope?]


    ¡°Ha-ha. Do not worry, shadow-brother. I too have mastered the art of kissing the League¡¯s ass. As much as they downplay it, we need a few more heroes like you and I.¡± The yellow glow did the humorous flicker again. ¡°Sleep well, Gunquake. You¡¯ve earned it.¡±


    We exchanged nods and his suit enveloped him in invisibility once more, as if his body submerged in water from his back to front. I waited a few seconds and exhaled.


    [You¡¯re not going to reply if I accuse you of still being there, are you?]


    The expanse of the wastelands gave me a neutral response. Chance was slim.


    //Clara: Gunquake, are you there?


    //Gunquake: Of course, is everything okay?


    //Clara: We lost comms for a minute there, and the drone stopped recording audio.


    //Gunquake: Has it started up again?


    //Clara: Affirmative.


    I grunted and told her I was on my way back. It seemed as though somebody had the tech-disabling aura, and it wasn¡¯t me. As much as my mind was eager to fill up with questions, I held them back. Turned the bike on and rode off toward home.


    Spent my time focused on not falling into any ditches or hitting outcroppings of rock. Getting home safely was my only goal. But¡­ there had to be another reason for Silhouette to make himself known and want to talk to me. It could be as simple as wanting to know a hero of similar persuasion¡­ and nothing about him struck me as being dangerous or threatening. Slightly odd that I had sensed him there, but I was perceptive.


    Did I want to read into it any more than that? Not at this stage. Befriending an S-Rank superhero was a double-edged sword. While it was nice to have friends in high places¡­ there could be only one S-Rank team. Was that what our group of oddballs even wanted? Again, something I¡¯d need to sit down with Roxy and work out our long-term goals.


    Now that our foundations were becoming official and real, it was time to do more than play things by ear. Bottleneck was money¡­ but I had a few ideas about how we could smooth that out.


    Wasn¡¯t long before I rolled myself into the dimly lit area of our home base, wheels biting through the gravel as I parked up near the van.


    No sooner had I swung myself off the vehicle, Roxy was there.


    ¡°Fucking kick-ass!¡± She beamed and picked me up with her left arm, easily lifting me off the floor.


    My spine clicked in a way that felt amazing, so I didn¡¯t contest the act. I turned my eyes to see Clara run over from the workshop, the super picking up the smaller woman even easier with her right arm - and the three of us had a brief joint hug.


    ¡°You too, gremlin.¡± She put us both down. ¡°A first hero mission and a first sidekick mission.¡±


    Clara smiled. ¡°Is that pride whetting your eyes, sister? Or is the partially melted outfit of Gunquake that pungent still?¡±


    [I was two seconds of frying away from having the outfit permanently affixed to my skin.]


    The super shrugged. ¡°We all have our near-misses. League sort of plans it that way.¡±


    That made sense, in a twisted way. Would a superhero really be just that if they didn¡¯t put themselves in danger to save the day?


    ¡°It¡¯s usually chance of injury rather than chance of death they skirt,¡± the techie clarified. ¡°You just happen to be more prone to the latter than most.¡±


    ¡°I was figuratively shitting myself,¡± Roxy said. ¡°But you handled yourself well. Dropping through the roof with Quake shot, using your lube to block off the hobs¡¯ coming after you¡­ oh, and the dude just jackin¡¯ it. Peak fiction.¡±


    Behind my goggles, I rolled my eyes.


    [Before we go celebrating, I should say that I met Silhouette.]


    ¡°What?¡± they said in unison.


    Clara frowned. ¡°When I lost connection to the drone?¡±


    The super seemed to be taking this with a pinch of panic rather than just concern. ¡°He was watching you, and appeared to speak with you? Why?¡±


    [I wish I knew. He said that he was interested in the League taking on a hero like me. One who lived in the shadows.]


    With a groan, Roxy deflated. ¡°You don¡¯t think he¡¯s like¡­ one of your group? That shadows phrasing gives me the ick.¡±


    I returned a shrug. In honesty, I wasn¡¯t sure exactly how I knew he was there. Even past my usual trained perceptiveness, there was an almost extra sense I had for¡­ something. Couldn¡¯t quite externalize my thoughts on the matter just yet. Uncomfortable, but it seemed to be working for my benefit so far.


    ¡°There are some fantasy classes that rely on stealth,¡± Clara offered. ¡°But we¡¯ve already gone over rogue and assassin and you had no reaction.¡±


    [It could be that some common words I¡¯ve just become numb to. I have been an assassin myself, and things like warrior or thief aren¡¯t unique enough to prompt any memories.]


    The techie nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll prod that more tomorrow. You deserve a rest tonight.¡±


    [You and I both, Clara.]


    Roxy clapped her hands together. ¡°Let¡¯s retire to the once-again functional dining room and chill out until your preliminary report comes in? I won¡¯t be able to sleep until it does.¡±


    And that¡¯s just what we did.


    Fresh canister for myself, while the other two had their usual snacks. I had Clara tell us about her day with Dr Jarl first. He knew about her being sidekick to a tech super, and so was keen to ply her into learning-through-doing. Although Clara didn¡¯t say it outright, she was hinting that she¡¯d be able to get me some new tech, essentially for free, if she could build it herself during her education. Within certain limits, of course. Not everyone had a neutral stance on war crimes like she did.


    We then discussed the meeting with Wren tomorrow. The offer was open to the three of us, but Roxy declined to join. She said it that she¡¯d only get in the way, but would go if I requested. As much as the strength super was still the leader of our team, I wanted to prep the others to be receptive to that. If the pair of us turned up and started becoming bossy, it might push them further away.


    I¡¯d break the eggs, and together we could cook the omelet. Clara would accompany me, partially at the request of the super, to ensure I didn¡¯t break up Wren¡¯s marriage or something. The other reason was the techie just wanted to support me as a sidekick and see more of my alleged powers in action.


    Which led to them trying to come up with what my Advanced nature might actually be. They were pretty convinced I had a minimum increase across the board, but especially my durability, charisma, and perception above all others. Reaction speed and strength too - although to me that could easily be from five years of experience living only for violence.


    Eventually, a thought circled around the inside of my skull.


    [Clara, do you know how they do the blood test for checking Super and Advanced powers?]


    She tilted her head from side to side. ¡°I can see where this is leading, Gunquake. The test itself is not something done by a normal lab, but instead by a superhero in the know of the scientific process - so no, we cannot replicate it.¡±


    [Does it also test for¡­ magic?]


    Clara pulled a face at my use of the word. ¡°While there is often little difference between magic and superpowers for the layman, the League¡¯s stance is to not push the disparity so that there isn¡¯t internal tribalism.¡±


    ¡°Belle is technically a magic user,¡± Roxy offered. ¡°But it¡¯s the same as how you¡¯ll be called a superhero even if you¡¯ve got nothing other than Advanced capabilities.¡±


    [And Wren too, correct? She is Advanced with an Artefact.]


    The super nodded. ¡°For the general public, there¡¯s no benefit to splitting the terminology.¡±Stolen story; please report.


    I found it interesting that out of the group of five of us¡ªsix if you included Clara¡ªonly two were actually superpowered. There would be a point I¡¯d need to go through the list of heroes above our standing and see what they were capable of. Opponents I couldn¡¯t just shoot my way through.


    [That is skirting my question, though.]


    Clara shrugged. ¡°Unfortunately, I do not know. Do you think you have magical powers, Gunquake?¡±


    [The ¡®classes¡¯ we have discussed previously are spellcasters, so I wondered if perhaps their abilities tied to these designations could be magical based.]


    While the techie still held some visual disdain on her face at the prospect, she didn¡¯t know enough to say either way. ¡°I will ask Dr Jarl if he has a detector next time I see him, if you wish?¡±


    ¡°Ah!¡± Roxy leaned back in her chair, face wrinkled up. ¡°Maybe you can¡¯t cast spells because they took your mouth. Like magic usually needs some kind of focus, right? For a bard that¡¯s like your voice¡­ unless you can play the lute?¡± Her raised eyebrow was oddly hopeful.


    [I have no inclination for musical performance. The only sweet symphony I enact is the percussion of my shotgun blasts.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°Alright, dictionary guy. No, wait. That just makes me sound dumb.¡± She leaned her chair back forward. ¡°Seriously, though. There¡¯s always more to you than meets the eye. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if you had some minor magical bullshit about you.¡±


    ¡°Rockslide has a point.¡± Clara drummed her fingers on the edge of the table. ¡°Even with Advanced increased regenerative properties¡­ you just heal too fast. It¡¯s a miracle that your left arm is even functional after the number of breaks it has had, let alone all those damaged internal organs now functioning once more. You should have been bed bound for weeks, if not months.¡±


    [So we are saying that either I do have minor super powers, or some magical capacity lingers from my past life? There¡¯s nothing in my recollection about casting spells.]


    Neither of them had a concise answer to give me. Shooting in the dark. As much as my folders of mysteries were bursting to the brim, we managed to shuffle this extra page in without everything coming undone.


    ¡°I¡¯m still pretty creeped out that Silhouette showed up. Sounds like intimidation, or he knows something more than what he said.¡± Roxy scowled. ¡°But¡­ you¡¯re good at reading people, Dubs, so if you think¡­¡± Her voice trailed off, as we each received a notification at the same time.


    The preliminary report.


    Jolt God had been picked up not far from the location after the drop-pod had bounced a couple of times. Minor bruising and a little shaken up, but mostly uninjured. No deaths at the hobgoblin outpost. Minor injuries and a few broken bones. A couple suffering from smoke inhalation, but nothing permanent. Other than the metal roof and force-field door, no notable property damage.


    Rating was¡­ exemplary.


    Roxy whistled. ¡°Fuck, Dubs. For a prelim for your first trial, that¡¯s huge. Might mean they give you something shitty for your next mission, but no doubt Stacy will be doe-eyed next time we go see her.¡±


    [Well, I couldn¡¯t have done it without Clara.]


    The techie smiled. ¡°As much as my knees weaken from your flattery, Gunquake, I assure you that you would have been fine solo. We have much to discuss and do before they give us the next mission, but it¡¯s already late enough tonight.¡±


    We came to an agreement. There weren¡¯t enough hours in the day to get through everything, and I needed to have a sit down with Clara soon to go over gear and new tech. She was an overflowing basin full of ideas, and the more I stepped into the role of hero, the more I knew in which ways to guide that ambition.


    After a few more pats on the back for a job well done, we retired to our rooms. Too exhausted for a bath, I just cloth-washed my torso from the sink. My base layers had stuck to me, but only from the dried sweat rather than burned skin - so I was thankful for that at least. Looking at myself in the mirror, I sighed before returning to the bedroom.


    I closed the door and stood at the end of the bed, now just in my underwear, with only the bedside lamp illuminating the room. While Roxy watched, I stretched myself out. Arms, shoulders, and torso. Side to side. Working out all those muscles I didn¡¯t injure during my mission. Somehow.


    ¡°Is this some kind of post-action show I get now?¡± She grinned, clearly enjoying my stretches.


    [Gotta keep myself in good shape if this is a long-term thing. I¡¯m not getting any younger.]


    ¡°Just how old are you, anyway?¡± She raised an eyebrow as I returned a shrug.


    [At least five.]


    The super rolled her eyes. ¡°That reminds me. Don¡¯t forget, your actual hardest mission is coming up soon.¡±


    [Are you¡­ coming on to me?]


    ¡°Asshole. My birthday is in a few weeks. You¡¯re going to come meet my folks, right?¡± She stuck out her bottom lip and tried to twist my arm emotionally.


    [You said your father would not like me, but your mother would?]


    She nodded. ¡°Mom would dote on you even if you were sentient roadkill, as long as you had manners and treated me right¡­¡±


    [Rather close to reality, with how I came back from our duel.]


    ¡°But my pops is the opposite.¡± She ignored me. ¡°He has hated everyone I¡¯ve dated. I don¡¯t think he¡¯d ever be happy until I turn up to theirs married and pregnant. Unless you¡¯re any good at farming, he probably won¡¯t talk with you much, but might like your shotgun arm.¡± She pulled a face and deflated.


    [Want to bet that I can win him over?]


    ¡°Motherfucker, don¡¯t even.¡± This time, she gave me a scowl. ¡°He isn¡¯t even worthy of your time. The only person you have to impress in my family is me, and I am head over heels for you, smartass.¡±


    I relaxed from doing my stretches and walked around to join her. There was nothing like the soft warmth of a real bed after a day in the field. I held my arm out so that she could put my gun cozy on, and we laid and looked into each other¡¯s eyes.


    [Clara will be going too?]


    ¡°Of course.¡± She smiled. ¡°All my siblings and their families will be there. It¡¯s quite the clusterfuck, but we only gather a handful of times a year these days.¡±


    [I¡¯m not sure if I even have parents, but if I did, I¡¯d want you to meet mine too.]


    ¡°You¡¯re sweet.¡± The super leaned a little closer and gave me a soft kiss on my closed eye. ¡°I¡¯ve been feeling fired up about being a super lately, thanks to you¡­ but tonight¡­ your success with Clara - it just clicked for me. We¡¯re actually doing this, and we can be so much better as a team.¡±


    [Trust me, once we get the other two on board, we¡¯ll be climbing the B-Ranks on the way to the top.]


    Roxy smiled, her hands pulling my head down gently so my forehead was against her clavicle. ¡°I believe you. I know you¡¯re going to break my heart one day by falling apart and getting injured, but I forgive you already. Just don¡¯t ever die, okay?¡±


    [It would take a greater force than exists on this plane to tear me away from your love, Roxy.]


    She exhaled through her nose, the air warm against my hair, and she relinquished the hold on my head. ¡°I¡¯m such an asshole for choosing the voice I thought sounded hottest. They had some more average male tones.¡±


    [I¡¯m not exactly average though, am I?]


    A smile was her only response as she turned away from me to turn off the lamp. In the darkness, she moved back against me and I put my gun-arm around her. We had considered switching sides on the bed, but it was less uncomfortable to have my gun inert over her rather than under her.


    Despite the difficulties of the long day, and the questions still sitting to attention awaiting some manner of closure¡­ I fell asleep comfortably. Not worried about who I was, why people were watching me, or how I could continue living this way.


    A well-earned rest, indeed.


    <hr>


    The morning was a blur, an overcast sky for a change shifting my mood away from what should have been one of my brightest days yet. Clara confirmed that Erin hadn¡¯t picked up anything abnormal during the night. I wondered even with all the things it could track, was Silhouette still able to pass through undetected? This question was one I did not vocalize.


    There was a certain amount of acceptance that once you were put in the same box as those with great power, death and danger were always a possibility. A hope that the superheroes we met would be on the level, and any villains just inept or easily dealt with. I reconciled with this fact on the basis that the League knew me already, and I¡¯d rather be safely in their pocket than something easily swept under the rug.


    The techie herself had been quiet once we set off. I wasn¡¯t sure if she was nervous about the meeting or her time with Dr Jarl after we were done with Wren, but there was some wall that prevented her from filling my ears with innuendo and new tech ideas.


    I leaned forward to look up at the building as we pulled up outside. In a word, it was grandiose. Not the tallest skyscraper I¡¯d seen - but perhaps some of the biggest office blocks on this side of the city.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you do most of the talking, Gunquake. But I¡¯ll be here for anything you need.¡± Clara delivered the statement rather flatly, not even adding in a little faux-flirting.


    [Anything I should know? With you, I mean.]


    Her green cybernetics eyes looked up to me, before out the front window. ¡°I had grown accustomed to being the undervalued and unappreciated weird techie. Comfortable in knowing that was my place. Now I have been exposed to the light, and have the chance to prove to the world what I am actually capable of. It is¡­ overwhelming.¡±


    [I know that feeling.]


    She tilted her head and looked back at me. ¡°The fact that I get to work with and support my two best friends is both amazing and frightening. I¡¯ll be fine, Gunquake. Once again, thank you for the consideration.¡±


    I gave her a nod. She was taking on a lot, and I had to make sure she didn¡¯t burn out. A high degree of stress not only being a sidekick, but with her education too. We¡¯d share the load between the three of us, and rise to be the best.


    [Roxy¡¯s birthday is coming up. Did you want to tell her parents that you and I are married before she can introduce us accurately?]


    Clara grinned. Mission successful. ¡°Rockslide¡¯s family gatherings are already a powder-keg. I¡¯d rather we didn¡¯t start a war. But by then, it might not even be a lie.¡± She shot me a wink and turned, leaving the vehicle before I could respond.


    Seeing her more of herself again calmed my own apprehension over the looming meeting. While it would certainly be less violent than how I won over the Captain, I wasn¡¯t too sure what to expect going in here. I stepped out of the side of the van and looked up at the skyline.


    A billboard caught my attention. Defenders of the Peace, it was titled, and showed the five S-Rank heroes. Well, four of them at least. Silhouette again missing from the lineup as if it was some manner of practical joke they were leaning into.


    ¡°That¡¯s their team name.¡± Clara caught my gaze. ¡°A little cliche but¡­ it¡¯s what works.¡±


    [What is ours?]


    She bit her tongue. ¡°No idea. Perhaps without our renewed efforts, we can have a little rebranding?¡±


    I had a feeling she knew exactly what it was, but I didn¡¯t press the issue. Instead, we walked across the sidewalk and entered the building. The interior immediately reminded me of the League lobby¡­ albeit darker and more luxurious. A thick carpet of deep red lined a wide passageway leading from the door to a long reception desk. The furniture matched the decorative support beams at the sides of the room - a shiny black which was either jet stone or designed to look that way.


    Very simplistic designs, but elegant in a very high-brow way. Something that was echoed in the man standing at the front desk, who was almost the polar opposite of Miguel at the League in demeanor. A tall man with almond colored skin and slim head. Slicked back dark hair with a thin mustache, and a look on his face that made him seem tired of our presence already. Name placard on the desk said his name was Edel Jacobson.


    [Mr Jacobson. We have an appointment.]


    ¡°Of course. Madam doesn¡¯t often entertain guests from the League, however, I must inform you that any weapons must be checked in down here.¡±


    I shot Clara a glance and shrugged, placing my arm gently on his desk.


    [You¡¯ll need a good laser-saw.]


    Edel flared out his nostrils. ¡°Very well. Madam has just informed me that you are to be allowed to her office as you are.¡± With a long arm, he gestured to a discreet elevator I hadn¡¯t noticed between two of the ebony support beams. ¡°It will take you straight to her room. She is waiting.¡±


    [Thank you.]


    Clara gave him a short curtsy, but it didn¡¯t have the same energy as the ones afforded to Stacy. We left and entered the small elevator, and shifted slightly as it moved upwards - for quite some time. Wren¡¯s office must be near the top, if not at the peak, of the building. We slowed to a soft stop, and then the doors opened up.


    Stepping through and expecting a lobby or further reception, it seemed as though we were literally now in her office. I had been expecting something similar to the mind-control villain¡¯s lair. Opulence and extravagance.


    Instead, most of the walls were roving screens of information. Holographic in nature, projecting graphs, stock exchange information, updating tickers of different cost per item for dozens of things my eyes couldn¡¯t even focus on. At the end of a similar deep red carpet was another desk, this one also filled with screens, although some were actual physical monitors. Two chairs on this side, while Wren herself sat opposite.


    ¡°Welcome.¡± She waved her hand and the intangible screens clouding her table vanished away. ¡°Good to see you Clara, and Gunquake - quite the surprise, although do you prefer Dubs?¡± The elf had her blonde hair tied up in a bun, a casual business suit in a soft blue color rather than her hero outfit on.


    [If you feel this is an informal setting, then Dubs is fine.]


    ¡°Dubs it is then.¡± She smiled. ¡°If you intend to be on our team, then I feel as though a cordial relationship is the minimum we can uphold. You¡¯ve had quite the glow-up, moving up from potential sidekick to hero. League must see something in you.¡±


    I held the chair out for Clara to sit before I joined her on her left.


    [Apparently that is the case.]


    Wren leaned back in her padded chair. ¡°The record of your first mission was exemplary as well, so they can¡¯t be wrong.¡±


    [Oh. You get those too?]


    She tilted her head, bright blue eyes piercing through me. ¡°I get everything to do with the team. Reports, status updates, social media posts, and gossip. Once I prodded Roy about his suspension and reason why, I started following you, too.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure if I should be flattered or worried. Being in the public eye certainly had some privacy issues, as did having Clara with her fingers almost literally massaging my brain. Having the elf digging around could only mean trouble¡­ which my silence seemed to confirm to her.


    Wren placed her hands on her desk, spreading her fingers out wide on the wood. ¡°I am someone who needs to know every scrap of information before making a decision, Dubs. When trying to find out exactly who you are, I ran into a brick wall. A cold trail.¡±


    My head nodded slowly.


    ¡°Non-business partners usually come for me for one reason. Money.¡± Her brow furrowed. ¡°Is that your intention here?¡±


    [No. I only seek your commendation for me to join the team, and to discuss your involvement as a superhero so that our ranking can increase.]


    The elf was silent for a moment, withdrawing her hands so that she could cross her arms. ¡°I¡¯ve heard you¡¯re quite the talker these days. Very well, let me lay out the terms for this meeting to proceed.¡±


    She leaned forward, clasping her hands together on the desk as she glared at me.


    ¡°You need to tell me why you¡¯re such a mystery. Just who are you really?¡±

 75 - Money Talks

    The elf¡¯s question hung in the air. A request for the truth. Who I was and what I was really up to. I shuffled uneasily and turned my gaze to Clara. She looked equally as uncomfortable, but her eyes suggested she trusted my judgement. Or rather, that¡¯s what I choose to read from them, anyway.


    I sighed and looked back at Wren, who hadn¡¯t budged an inch.


    [I¡¯m sure you understand this is not information easily given.]


    She relaxed and sat more comfortably in her chair. ¡°Naturally. You turned up out of nowhere, and now you¡¯re kicking the group into proper order - even becoming a super yourself. That should provoke alarm bells in most.¡±


    Despite being very aloof and distracted throughout the housewarming party, she seemed very comfortable and calm at present. In her element, perhaps.


    [It seems unwise to put all my cards on the table from the outset.]


    Wren smiled. ¡°Good. I entirely agree. If you were to vomit out all your secrets just because someone you had only met once asked, then I¡¯d never trust you.¡±


    [Yet you know there is something of value within me?]


    ¡°The group has been¡­ languishing.¡± She exhaled and flicked a switch on her table. Over on the left side, one of the large screens of data flickered away to show her bow hidden behind it. Set in a rectangular alcove as if on display - but the weapon was hovering of its own accord. ¡°Four generations since my artefact weapon was last used as more than an ornament. My parents turned their noses up at the idea of me using it, so in a small act of rebellion, I went ahead and signed up as a hero.¡±


    The elf lingered on it for a couple of seconds before turning her bright blue eyes back to us. ¡°I was born, raised, and educated to sit in this very chair and run this business.¡±


    [Do you dislike it?]


    With a shrug, she shook her head. ¡°It would be like asking if you dislike breathing. At times, it is stressful and all-consuming, but it is as much a part of me as my heritage is. The trouble is, everything has a cost. As much as I adore having the hero side as a hobby, it is neither time efficient, nor generating any worth. Without the team, I¡¯d likely give up¡­ there are no C-Rank teams.¡±


    [We¡¯re lagging, certainly, but we¡¯re not in last place. We have time to improve.]


    Clara cleared her throat. ¡°Actually, we are the bottom of B-Rank currently.¡±


    The elf took over. ¡°If you consider the S-Rank team separate entirely, then there are ten groups between top A and bottom B. We were seventh for a time, but losing our fifth member and being unable to find a new one in so long slowly brought us down to ninth. With Roy¡¯s suspension and Roxy on rest leave, we¡¯re now last place in the rankings.¡±


    Things were more dire than I had realized. If we flubbed our regrouping, then the League would cut us off and find another group to build up from the solo B-Rank and high C-Rank heroes. My brain took a few steps backward.


    [You had a fifth member previously?]


    ¡°But we aren¡¯t saying his name,¡± Clara interjected. ¡°For the safety of everyone.¡±


    Wren rolled her eyes as the other shoe dropped for me. ¡°You can understand my caution then, with our leader dating another group member.¡±


    [I wasn¡¯t aware.]


    Unfortunately, that made it much easier to find out who he was.


    ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, we all took her side. The guy had a decent mask, but couldn''t always hide that he was a douche.¡± The elf gave me a glum smile. ¡°Would have been better career-wise to dump Roxy after he put her through the wringer, but for all her faults, we know Roxy isn¡¯t a shithead. It was the start of the end, however. She stopped leading, and the rest of us started putting in less effort. And then¡­ you appeared. The League was interested in this odd and rather smelly cyborg.¡±


    [I¡¯ve learned to bathe regularly since then.]


    ¡°If it weren¡¯t for the cybernetic parts, I¡¯d assume you were a different person. Even then, however, you put yourself on the line to defend Roxy.¡± Her head tilted. ¡°And now you¡¯ve even cured Roy of his rabies. I¡¯m¡­ honestly interested in your angle.¡±


    [You couldn¡¯t find out from spying on me?]


    Wren pulled a face. ¡°It¡¯s not exactly spying. I collate available data so that I can make informed decisions, but there¡¯s not a detective agency in the city that would take on the job of digging up info on a hero. League is pretty strict on privacy. Last thing they want is paranoid supers.¡±


    I exchanged a glance with Clara. While I certainly felt as though the League had their eyes on me, I was somewhat comforted in believing that we shouldn¡¯t have to worry about someone sniffing around our house. Whether the League thought they could get away with sending someone like Silhouette was an entirely different matter.


    [Much like you, I sought control.]


    She sat in silence for a few moments, an eyebrow slightly raising. Eventually, a coy smile emerged at the edge of her mouth, and she shook her head. ¡°Think you have me sussed out there? You¡¯re right on the money, if you excuse the pun. I am constantly going over the numbers, maintaining a close eye on every minute factor of the business. Both businesses. Even now, I have a screen to the side warning me if any fluctuations occur.¡±


    [But you don¡¯t need to, right?]


    ¡°Of course not.¡± Her smile sunk away. ¡°It¡¯s a compulsion. This is my purpose in life, and so I want to be perfect at it. I am great at it. But there¡¯s no¡­¡± She waved her hand in the air.


    [There¡¯s no medal you get for being enough.]


    Wren rubbed the bridge of her nose. ¡°You¡¯re starting to sound like my therapist now. But sure. Being the best isn¡¯t a tangible goal that has an end. At some point, the money and success doesn¡¯t mean anything, yet I still want more.¡±


    [You have no business partners or executives you could trust with most of the management? Your husband?]


    ¡°My husband would be the perfect match for a small bakery or family run florist. Nothing but a soft sack of good intention. You ever see the viral videos of racoons trying to wash candy floss in water? That¡¯s my husband.¡± She sighed and sunk into the chair further. ¡°I love him, but despite being raised to inherit a similar position as I was, he doesn¡¯t function in this lifestyle.¡±


    I was silent for a moment. She seemed to be processing something in her mind, eyes not really focused our way. Perhaps she would be happier, both in her work life and with her partner if they did have that more simple life. But she couldn¡¯t give this up and let down her parents, or the expectations she held for herself.


    [Do all your business meetings go this way?]


    Her bright blue eyes switched back to me, and she smiled again. ¡°As superheros, if we are to fight alongside each other, there¡¯s an element of trust involved. You¡¯ve been working through us with a pickaxe and shovel to expose our flaws, but in time you would have learned them eventually. The others know I¡¯m a control freak. They say I¡¯m the most level-headed, but that¡¯s mostly because people are ingrained in being accepting of capitalistic traits.¡±


    [The other two I had to almost die to win them over. So far, this has been a more pleasant experience - so perhaps you¡¯re right.]


    ¡°Even if you didn¡¯t come here for money, my commendation is still an investment.¡± She shuffled herself back up to a more business-proper position. ¡°Of my time and efforts.¡±


    [I¡¯m sure you are aware Roxy has unearthed further power and is driven to become an A-Rank hero. This would be a great boon to the group, and with Roy actively bettering himself, I have no doubts that our standing will improve.]


    ¡°Any actual assurances you can give me?¡±


    [I can only guarantee that I will give this my all. We need what you can bring to the group. Someone with a little more sense to keep us under control. Guide our reckless ambition and take advantage of any opportunity to increase our standing with the League.]


    Wren bit her lip and narrowed her eyes, staring at me before turning her attention to the techie. ¡°Is he always like this?¡±


    ¡°He is.¡± Clara nodded.


    ¡°And you¡¯re to be Dubs¡¯ sidekick soon enough? A little bird told me you have recently taken on private tuition.¡±


    ¡°While I usually view birds as treacherous and deviant creatures, in this instance, they have spoken no lies.¡±


    Both Wren and I nodded politely, and I wondered if this was a bit, or Clara actually had genuine hostility toward feathered animals. A question for another day.


    The elf recovered and gestured to the petite woman. ¡°In that case, as a tech super, you¡¯ll have some of the best support possible. Impressive for such an unknown, and I would be a fool to not want to give you my commendation to have you on our team.¡±


    [But you still want the truth?]


    ¡°I trust you.¡± She tilted her head to the side. ¡°Although we aren¡¯t that close these days, I view each of my group as friends. I¡¯ve seen what you are doing for both Roxy and Roy. Even your honeyed words to me in this meeting have given me some comfort, despite usually being hardened to that sort of thing. If you want to keep your past to yourself, I understand - and will still support the team. We are clearly heading for a new era, and I will not stand in the way.¡±


    [So if I enlighten you¡­?]


    ¡°You will have satiated my curiosity. But I offer you nothing more.¡±


    I nodded and turned to Clara to see what she thought of the proposition. The green light of her eyes switched up to me, and she looked conflicted. It sounded like our mission had been achieved. We had gotten Wren to agree to take the superhero work more seriously and support me in becoming a part of the team.


    That wasn¡¯t exactly what was at stake here, however. Even if Clara hadn¡¯t picked up on it, I could see it clear as day.


    [How secure are comms here?]


    Wren flicked another switch on her table, and all screens in the room flickered off. The room seemed much darker now until a green sheen slowly bloomed into life along the walls and ceiling. It swirled like a thin mist, as if it was trying to avoid me whenever I looked at it.


    ¡°Nothing leaves these four walls, via any means,¡± Wren confirmed.


    A magic version of our dead zone, I was sure - without knowing exactly why. It was enough of a gut feeling to trust her.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    [In a previous life, I was a super soldier for an unknown organization. Amnesia clouds the past. Something near killed me. I was rescued and brought back to life with these cybernetics, by someone also unknown. I spent five years working under this benefactor as a hitman before they cut me loose. Roxy and Clara have been supporting and encouraging me into becoming something redeemable.]


    I left out some details, but for a quick summary that hit all the key points.


    Wren nodded along as I detailed my past. Her face neutral, concentration across her brow. Once I was finished talking, her eyes wandered off away from me, and I started to wonder if she was messaging someone - before she leaned forward and narrowed her eyes at me.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m in. On one condition.¡±


    [Name it.]


    ¡°Sponsorship. I can¡¯t help you as a private individual due to League rules, but there are ways we can do it through official channels through my company.¡±


    I raised my hand and shook my head.


    [As I said, we didn¡¯t come here for your money. Only your support.]


    The elf scowled at me. ¡°Respectfully, Dubs, an under-funded tech super is just coffin fodder. I¡¯ll not have you jeopardize the team because your electro-haptic shielding ran out of batteries.¡± Her fingers drummed on the desk as she gave me a once over. ¡°You do have some form of shielding, right?¡±


    [Sometimes I block attacks with my less fleshy parts?]


    As Wren groaned and covered her face, Clara sunk into her chair. There were millions of different gadgets and pieces of gear we could buy or develop - but we had only just started and were short on time and credits. It wasn¡¯t a faux pas on her part that I was still mostly a walking gun with a hot robot voice.


    [I would still feel uncomfortable taking your money.]


    ¡°It¡¯s not such a benevolent exchange. Your safety and team effectiveness aside, the company would also be in charge of any marketing deals, advertising rights, branding, and occasional promotional appearances. We¡¯d essentially be your agent, even more so than your League appointed manager. You continue to make Yewvale Corp look good, and we¡¯ll keep funneling money into you.¡±


    [Would you mind sending any potential contract or details to Clara? If you don¡¯t mind?]


    I turned to the techie, and she gave me a nod of confirmation. While the spoken word was more my forte, I felt more comfortable with the techie going over the details of something written down.


    ¡°I¡¯d say that was a productive meeting then, Dubs.¡± Wren stood up from her chair and smiled. ¡°Definitely not how I imagined it would go, but I think we will all walk away happy with this.¡±


    I stood up from my chair and held out my left hand to shake. She took it, the gleam in her eyes continuing as we shook. I gestured with my head over to her hovering bow as we released the grip on each other.


    [You¡¯ll start using the actual power of your weapon as well, I hope?]


    The smile sunk from her face and her eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced between the artefact and me.


    [What, you think you¡¯re the only one who did their homework?]


    I gave her a nod in lieu of a smile, and turned to leave. Clara gave her an awkward half-curtsy, half-handshake, before quickly darting away to follow me. A few steps away from the elevator, I stopped and turned back to the elf.


    [Oh. I was thinking of having a garden party soon. We would like to have you over if you can spare the time?]


    Wren¡¯s confused face melted away into a soft smile. She gave me a brief nod. ¡°I¡¯ll check my schedule, Dubs.¡±


    And then we were in, descending back to the lobby. We gave our brief goodbyes to the snooty man at reception before leaving the offices and getting into the van. Doors closed, Clara exhaled as if she had been holding her breath the entire time.


    ¡°I¡¯m really not built for professional meetings,¡± she sighed. ¡°Maybe next time I can just follow with the drone?¡±


    [You did fine, I appreciated having you there with me.]


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± The techie waved me away. ¡°Save your smooth talking for later. You not only secured commendation from Wren, and her acceptance to pull her own weight in the group again, but also we¡¯re going to be sponsored.¡±


    [And all we had to give up was my sordid and secretive past.]


    Clara winced and started the van up. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope it¡¯s more financially advantageous for her to keep our secret rather than sell us out then.¡±


    The elf had been pretty open about her flaws and traits. That she desired control and the success of her ventures, despite wishing she could be away from that. To be so open was refreshing, but that just meant her true hangups were hidden away from prying eyes. She¡¯d just given us the obvious meat - something easy enough to digest and satiate our stomachs.


    Normally something that would get my back up, and have me wanting to crack open her second shell to see what really sat within. I could read between the lines, though. She cared about Roxy and the rest of the group. There was just a disconnect. They were from different worlds in a way, but they had been loyal to her when her ex had dragged her through the mud. Hence my invite to a garden party that didn¡¯t exist until that moment.


    Fixing the group was more than just about power and strength.


    ¡°What was that about her bow, as well? You had been researching something about her without me knowing?¡± Clara raised an eyebrow as we continued through the city.


    [Wren is B-Rank, an Advanced hero with a magical Artefact. If her bow could only float in the air and fire regular arrows, she wouldn¡¯t be on our team. A little deductive reasoning, some luck.]


    ¡°Funny how your luck seems to work out more times than not.¡± Her expression relaxed despite her statement. ¡°Ignoring all the times you almost died, I guess.¡±


    [Thoughts on the sponsorship?]


    ¡°I¡¯ll hold my tongue until we receive the details. We both know that money would be a great boon to our advancement and¡­¡± She trailed off, partially distracted by traffic, but her thought didn¡¯t continue.


    [And¡­?]


    Her green eyes shot me a quick glance. ¡°You are a people magnet, Gunquake. If you¡¯re going to draw us all in and make us care for you, you will not be forgiven if you suddenly die. A credit surplus will allow us to build you to be a little more invincible.¡±


    [So I won¡¯t die, just get maimed enough so that more of me can be replaced by cybernetics?]


    ¡°Careful, Gunquake.¡± She smiled. ¡°I don¡¯t have the energy today for impure thoughts. Erin has been reporting some intense heat signals. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s just Rockslide, but I¡¯ve been on edge.¡±


    [You think things have been going too well?]


    ¡°As always, I¡¯m comforted that you are on the same page. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s just me adjusting to a new schedule. I¡¯ll be back to annoying the pair of you soon enough.¡±


    [It¡¯s because I said I might be able to cast magic spells, wasn¡¯t it?]


    Clara grimaced at first, before smiling. ¡°Like a cold shower. It puts at least half of the list out of the question. Speaking of going up and down, I¡¯ll be considering your issue of vertical movement when I¡¯m with Dr Jarl later.¡±


    [Some way to rappel down a building would be nice, even if ascending is current beyond my physicality or our budget.]


    ¡°There¡¯s some off-the-shelf options, but I feel it¡¯s better to have things tailored to your strengths. We have a few deliveries coming later, if you have no trouble you¡¯ll be getting into.¡±


    Didn¡¯t entirely have a plan for the rest of the day. Still mentally reeling from last night, even if it hadn¡¯t been physically injured. Some rest time until the League called upon me would be nice. Probably float the idea of a garden party with Roxy, since I had conjured one up.


    [Any luck with the computer tasks?]


    Clara shook her head as we left the warehouse district and approached the outskirts once more. ¡°The encrypted drive is rather difficult to crack. You can imagine there are ten doorways, and you have burst through three of them.¡±


    [You can just say thirty percent.]


    Her smiled widened. ¡°The shard of metal is nine doors in, and will complete while I¡¯m out today. Unless it is something detrimental to your well-being, I will discuss it with you when I return tonight.¡±


    I nodded, and a few short minutes later, we were rolling into our home area. We both pulled a face at the reflective circle in the middle of my yard.


    ¡°Not my circus,¡± Clara murmured. She put her hand on my arm before I got out. ¡°Thanks for including me, even if I wasn¡¯t myself. This sidekick thing is odd, but I¡¯m glad it¡¯s with you.¡±


    [Likewise. Have a good day, Clara. Message us if you need, otherwise I¡¯ll see you tonight.]


    She gave me a brief wave as she pulled away, turning the van to drive back to the city. I stepped past the almost transparent surface in the middle of the dusty gravel, and walked up to the super, who was on a deckchair.


    In a black one-piece swimsuit, she sat with her arms out awkwardly. The skin from her wrists to her elbows was clearly a brighter pink, sore looking. Sunglasses on, she was either asleep or¡ªby the grumpy expression on her face¡ªjust rather annoyed at how her training went.


    [Should you be out in the sun if you¡¯re burned already?]


    Her head tilted toward me, but she made no other change in position. ¡°It¡¯s overcast, Dubs. Let me be miserable in peace.¡±


    [I cannot. You glassed part of my yard?]


    Although I jerked my thumb back, I couldn¡¯t tell if her eyes moved to glance at the very obvious property damage she had caused.


    ¡°Originally, I was just going to do a couple of inches, but got greedy and wanted more.¡±


    [Where have I heard that before?]


    ¡°Hey, asshole.¡± She smiled as I stepped forward to take her sunglasses off. ¡°I may have let some mean comments fuel my training. Bad idea to check my socials before working out.¡±


    [Seems as though it worked. What did they say?]


    ¡°It was a thread asking how hung people thought I¡¯d be if I were a man. First response asked what they meant by if.¡± She rolled her eyes.


    I turned and looked back toward the city.


    [You can at least give me an area code?]


    ¡°Dubs. It¡¯s fine, really. It doesn¡¯t get to me as much anymore.¡± Her smile softened. ¡°Probably because of how you make me feel, you dumbass. If you want to actually help me, spoon feed me some ice-cream because my arms hurt.¡±


    [They do look sore, is it bad?]


    Roxy pulled a face and shrugged. ¡°Strength powers come with some durability boosts, but I¡¯m not as invincible as a Durability powered super, clearly.¡± She wiggled her pale legs, the scars running from ankle to her thighs evident. ¡°Same with regeneration. I heal quicker than most, but a Regeneration super would make me seem like¡­ well, like a civilian compared to you.¡±


    [Are there any current supers like that?]


    She gave me another shrug. ¡°There used to be a villain who had insane regeneration. I think he was just villain politically, however - I¡¯m not sure what actual crimes he was accused of. I heard someone unloaded a full pistol into him and he was fully healed before the last casing even hit the floor.¡±


    Maybe something I could find out on our database. My eyes went over to the workshop. Probably wouldn¡¯t take long for me to find out about Roxy¡¯s ex. His powers and weaknesses. Where he lived.


    Instead, I went and got changed into more comfortable clothing, and retrieve a tub and spoon from the kitchen - as well as a fresh canister for myself. Much like her favorite treat, revenge was best served ice cold. Watching her almost literally melt as I fed her the ice-cream - seeing the genuine happiness in her eyes - that was enough for me. I had already won. There was no need to kick sand in the eyes of the losers left in my wake.


    Not when I was still in a good mood, anyway.


    I told Roxy all about the meeting with Wren. While she wasn¡¯t surprised that I had talked my way into getting the elf to vouch for me, her eyebrows raised in regards to the sponsorship offer. Apparently, it wasn¡¯t too common these days. There often wasn¡¯t much of a benefit for a super to go that route, not with how much the League tried to subsidize a normal life for the heroes under their care. It was different for a tech super, however.


    ¡°It¡¯s heavily restricted,¡± she informed me, swallowing down the ice-cream. ¡°So we wouldn¡¯t be able to use the credits for your face or anything like¡­ for the house, you know? More red tape. Wren¡¯s people would need to sign off on a request, then the League would sign off, and then it¡¯d go back to Wren to stamp and purchase whatever.¡±


    [Even then, that is better than not having anything.]


    ¡°Of course. There¡¯s also a tier system¡­ uh, sorry - I¡¯m rusty on this because it¡¯s been so long.¡± She clucked her tongue and tilted her head. ¡°There¡¯s a limit on how much you could be given based on your Rank, to stop the top positions just being bought. Something like that. Like I said, it¡¯s been a while and maybe stuff has changed. Stacy will know.¡±


    I nodded. It wouldn¡¯t be realistic to get just untold millions just because it would be useful. My expectations were tempered to the point that I was going to act as if we hadn¡¯t gotten the sponsorship offer.


    [Did you know we were in tenth place?]


    Roxy winced. ¡°Yeah. Only recently, though¡­ I had been avoiding looking at things after Roy was suspended. Part of the reason I pushed a little too hard today. We¡¯re on the cusp of a comeback and I don¡¯t want to fuck it up.¡±


    [Can I make a suggestion?]


    ¡°Of course.¡± Her fiery eyes tried to read my face.


    [Let¡¯s get everyone together. Garden party. A chance for you to raise the flag and rally everyone back together. I¡¯ve been breaking the eggs, ready for you to build the most kickass omelet.]


    ¡°You think they¡¯ll accept me? After I¡¯ve let them wander astray for so long?¡±


    [I have zero doubts. Trust me. Garden party.]


    She smiled and leaned forward, a soft kiss on my re-breather as she hissed at her sore arms aching. ¡°Alright, you had me at omelet. Let¡¯s see what the League has in store for us. You¡¯ll want to speak with Belle before we get together, I assume?¡±


    [Correct. I want to try to get Roy¡¯s suspension wavered as well.]


    ¡°Normally I¡¯d say good luck, Dubs. But¡­ I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything you can¡¯t do.¡± Her eyes lingered on me as I slowly spoon fed her another bite of ice-cream.


    [I still can¡¯t play the lute.]


    ¡°You gotta at least try.¡± Her brow furrowed. ¡°Would you learn it? To serenade me?¡±


    [Anything for you, my love.]


    Roxy scrunched her face up. ¡°Ah, I just can¡¯t when you¡¯re sweet. You¡¯re lucky I can¡¯t move from this position to grab a hold of you.¡±


    She¡¯d be stuck like that for a few hours at most, before her skin would heal over and be resistant to the lava going forward. Given the damage to the yard, she must have overloaded with heat and caused a small blast or shockwave. Impressive and destructive. While she had overdone it today, it meant she was halfway to getting her full arms used to it. Burning the candle from both ends.


    Before I could come up with a way to bug her while she was stuck in place, a notification pinged through on my goggles atop my head, and I pulled them back down.


    //Clara: Gunquake!


    //Gunquake: Everything okay, Clara?


    //Clara: I¡¯m currently in the bathroom.


    //Gunquake: Oh.


    //Clara: I have been sent the sponsorship contract.


    //Clara: Some of it pre-approved by the League already¡­


    //Clara: You¡¯ll want to accept this, Gunquake.


    //Clara: I¡¯m shaking.


    //Clara: Sending it over now.


    ¡°Everything okay?¡± Roxy¡¯s brow was furrowed, her concern almost a grimace.


    I waited for the document to load up in my lense before responding, my eyes darting quickly over the terms. Details of responsibilities, expectations, and agreements between the various parties. Dates. Designations. Durations.


    Credit amounts.


    I lifted up my goggles and turned my gaze to the patient super.


    [Yes, Roxy. Everything is okay.]

 76 - Just a Bit

    I sat in the garden, the clouds briefly parting to offer me some illumination. Not quite enough, as my brow remained furrowed, the key in my hand to¡­ who knew what? I rotated it between my fingers, as if I could catch some hidden message or method to the wear and tear around the metal parts. It was a key, basic enough that it could be to anything and anywhere in the city.


    Roxy was indoors, in some minor huff, because I didn¡¯t immediately accept the contract from Wren. The fact that it was ready to go not so long after we had left the office meant that either the elf had planned it in advance, or the League had approached her with the idea. I leaned toward the latter option.


    So then it became a question of why they were pushing so hard for me to succeed.


    The original scheme of using Roxy to pry information about Boss out of me seemed to have fallen to the wayside. I wondered if Boss was even alive, or anywhere near Goldarch at this point. In watching me in action, the League had clearly decided I served more use than being a sponge that could be squeezed for data.


    They¡¯d given me plenty of allowances, knowing my past - perhaps more than I remembered. If they knew I was a super killer and were pushing me to succeed, then they could just be utilizing those skills to get rid of any problem villains. At least, that was a generous take on it. With how powerful the S-Ranks should be, it didn¡¯t seem efficient to gamble on such a fragile unknown like me. Unless they wanted me to kill a¡­


    I turned my head as Roxy left the house. Damage healed up enough now that she could cross her arms. ¡°Alright,¡± she announced. ¡°I¡¯m done being an asshole for now.¡± Her slight scowl determined that was mostly true. She came and sat beside me on the deckchair, and wrinkled up her nose at the key.


    [We aren¡¯t supposed to seek out the lock for this. It will turn up, in time, so I will keep this on me.]


    ¡°You think so? I guess we can¡¯t exactly check every lock in the city.¡± She sighed and looked out at Goldarch. ¡°Deliveries are coming soon.¡±


    [There are enough problems in our lives without constantly worrying about skeletons hidden away.]


    My eyes went over to the covered square where the coffin still lay. We should probably do something with my arm, but I wasn¡¯t sure what. It was already buried, after all. Maybe put it somewhere hidden. We should order¡­ a vault?


    [The deal is good. Signing it is just¡­ erasing some of that freedom that I¡¯ve been working to grow.]


    Roxy turned to me, some of the grumpiness easing away from her expression. ¡°Everyone¡¯s beholden to someone, Dubs.¡±


    I grunted. Perhaps I was being too idealistic again. Seemed to be in my nature, like a caged bird yearning for the outside, even if I¡¯d die from it.


    [Beholden? Which one of us was the wordsmith again?]


    ¡°Go fuck yourself.¡± She smiled and leaned against me. ¡°The contract works out to be the same as an A-Rank salary, plus bonuses, and you know Wren will try to push the envelope for what she can do for us.¡±


    I nodded. It was an interesting arrangement. I¡¯d be removing myself from the usual League salary stipulations and growth package. Even if I ended up C-Rank, I¡¯d still get the same amount - making the monetary benefits almost worth accepting on the spot. Like Roxy had said previously, I¡¯d need to spend any grants toward gear and tech only, which reduced my actual take-home pay.


    Although it didn¡¯t include education, it also had a generous sum for Clara, as my sidekick. There was a lot of legal jargon over patents and the rights to new things the techie designed - Wren had certainly been up front about it not being entirely benevolent. We would be an asset to her corporation just as much¡ªif not more¡ªthan we were to the League.


    All it needed was both our signatures, and it¡¯d be official. I¡¯d still need to wait until League made me an actual superhero to get any of the benefits¡­ but it put any modest tech and gear purchase within reach.


    [If the team goes up in Rank, will we have to move?]


    ¡°No, it¡¯s unlikely.¡± She moved away from me to look me in the face. ¡°Goldarch is like a circle, right? It¡¯s split into five parts. We¡¯re the designated B-Rank team for the southeast quarter, alongside the A-Rank team Mighty Sensations. If there¡¯s a problem in our area that needs a team, it¡¯ll be one of us two.¡±


    [I see.]


    ¡°If there¡¯s an issue in the direct south, then it¡¯ll either go to us or the southwest team. Same for directly east. There''s like an overlap. I know you can count, so the fifth area is city central. They have a B, A, and the S-Rank team.¡±


    [How about if we become A-Rank, would we not need to replace the group we knock down to B-Rank?]


    She shrugged. ¡°It depends, but I doubt it. I¡¯ve come to quite like it out here¡­ almost reminds me of the farms back home.¡±


    [I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve heard of Mighty Sensations before. Any intel?]


    ¡°Magic-girl group. Transformations and stuff.¡± Roxy wrinkled up her nose. ¡°They aren¡¯t the worst, but they keep to themselves unless we need to have a meeting. We kinda missed the last one so¡­¡±


    I wondered if I could kill them - which was probably not the correct first thought I should have when introduced to new colleagues. Also, it was a question on capability rather than permission. Of course I wouldn¡¯t be allowed. Internally, I rolled my eyes.


    [Sounds like there¡¯s more to this hero gig than punching bad guys in the face.]


    ¡°There¡¯s actually a lot of socialization and bullshit.¡± She waved her hand as if she was getting rid of a bad smell. ¡°Thankfully, most is optional, but you have that to look forward to. Or¡­ maybe that would be your kind of thing these days.¡±


    [Hmm. No. Although my charisma is a helpful tool at our disposal, I¡¯m not particularly keen to become a butterfly.]


    Beyond the scope of our team and the necessary individuals we needed to keep the wheels moving, I had no inclination to grow a social circle. Bard or not, I was still a born and raised killer. I assumed, anyway.


    ¡°Good. Well, I mean. You do what makes you happy, as long as that includes me.¡± Roxy smile and nudged me. ¡°If you need more time for this contract shit, that¡¯s fine. You know me, I have no patience. I respect that you¡¯re taking the time to see all angles and make sure you¡¯re not getting shafted. I¡¯m just excited that things are happening, you know?¡±


    [Roxy¡­ I signed it while you were busy yapping.]


    ¡°Asshole.¡± She gave me a quick peck on the face before turning to look at the road. ¡°Oh look, Van Michaels is on his way. I suddenly have to go do something in the house.¡±


    I put my hand on her before she stood up.


    [Whatever happens, I love you.]


    Caught between making a joke about our delivery driver not being that bad, and an earnest emotional response, she just pulled a face. ¡°Dork. I love you too.¡±


    I sighed as she made her escape. Stood and put the key in my pocket as I walked down to the end of my lot, ready to meet Van Michaels and his truck. While the dot of his vehicle grew larger, I tried to imagine what we were actually getting today. It was something I left almost entirely to Clara these days.


    About ten minutes ago, I had sent her a message to ask if she had any worries about the contract past her initial giddiness. She hadn¡¯t replied yet, which I took as her being too busy with her work to respond. I wouldn¡¯t send her my signed contract copy until we had a proper chat.


    We had time. League hadn¡¯t been clear on how long it would be before I was an actual hero, anyway. I looked up in my lense as a notification came in, but it wasn¡¯t from Clara.


    //Stacy: Hi GQ, hope you are well.


    //Stacy: Just wanted to congratulate you on the results of your mission.


    //Stacy: It¡¯s a rarity for a first one to be exemplary, but I knew you had it in you.


    //Stacy: Such a great start puts you in a position to push for a better Rank.


    //Stacy: If you wish, I can ask the League to assign you something B-Rank worthy for your next trial.


    //Stacy: Be warned it will have a higher level of danger.


    I looked over at my shoulder at the house. What would the others say? Of course, I had already made up my mind. I needed to hit B-Rank for my own personal comfort. To be adjacent to my peers. If I was only C-Rank but then got enough gear from my sponsorship, I¡¯d be at the mercy of the League on whether I increased my designation anytime soon.


    Short answer was that I didn¡¯t want to be dragging the team down.


    //Gunquake: Thank you, Stacy. Always a pleasure to hear from you.


    //Gunquake: Please put me forward for a B-Rank mission.


    //Stacy: Will do, GQ. All the best.


    Just as I closed the chat down, Van Michaels pulled up to the side. He stuck his head out of the window and grinned.


    ¡°Quite the load today, Mr Dubs. Is Rockslide around to help unload?¡±


    [Unfortunately not. I appreciate Darla making the effort.]


    He nodded, only looking slightly less upbeat, before he gave the van a pat. ¡°She¡¯ll complain later, but she likes our more regular trips out this way.¡±


    I grunted and mostly tuned out the rest of his small talk. Our security system had picked up the vibrations of the vehicle approaching, the motion of it, the way it blocked the sunlight, warmth from the internal mechanisms¡ªincluding the driver himself¡ªas well as the output fumes and the increase in carbon dioxide as he breathed.


    Although it was an overload of information, I wasn¡¯t really eyeing it up thinking there was anything wrong. I just wanted to look for the signs. Exactly how the values changed based on what was happening. There was an elephant in the room that my discussion with Clara earlier shone a bright light upon.


    We couldn¡¯t detect magic.


    I was almost certain now that was the reason I had been able to feel like Silhouette was present outside the hobgoblin factory. His cloaking wasn¡¯t tech-based. Did that mean I had some magical ability? As a super soldier, I could see the use of being able to detect the stuff, even if I couldn¡¯t cast spells of my own. In hunting down ¡®supers¡¯, some might just be magic users rather than having innate superpowers.


    A troubling circular thought that kept my mind busy until I found myself waving Van Michaels off, my lot now with a handful of boxes cluttering it. Some of them were big.


    I glanced over at where my arm was buried. How would I cast spells if I used to be able to? As I heard Roxy exit the house to come over to our bounty, I held my gun-arm out to the wastes.


    Brow furrowed, I focused and tried to¡­ make magic? After a couple of awkward seconds, my synapses decided to interpret my intention by spooling my V-Force drive up. I let it down before trying again¡ªthe same thing happening the second time.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°Everything okay, Dubs? Looks like you¡¯re fighting some personal demons there.¡±


    [Hmm? Who''s Damon?]


    ¡°I said ¡®demon¡¯.¡± Her brow furrowed. ¡°What are you up to, dork?¡±


    [Oh. Do you have any idea how V-Force works?]


    Roxy shrugged. ¡°Some kind of tech wizardry, I guess. Like¡­¡± Her eyebrows raised as she caught my train of thought. ¡°That¡¯s a jump, and something to ask Clara about.¡±


    I put my left hand on the side of my shotgun. Closed my eyes. There was definitely a reason Boss had given me this arm rather than something more modern or modular. Clara had even mentioned it would have been more difficult to get this affixed to me compared to something more common.


    But¡­ it wasn¡¯t speaking to me. Wasn¡¯t sure what I was even waiting for or expecting. I sighed and turned to the super, who had her eyes off to the side in her STAR.


    ¡°Just checking the internet. V-Force shit is like¡­ protected tech. Used in a bunch of stuff, but all I can find is that it¡¯s energy based. Developed by someone in Third Wall to the north, and now owned by the future-tech company V-Enterprises. Hence the name, I guess.¡±


    [What do they mostly deal with?]


    ¡°Cutting edge bullshit, as far as my potato brain understands.¡± She gave me a glum smile. ¡°Nano-tech, bio engineering, energy manipulation, and¡­ looks like the World Government gets first dibs for military or humanitarian purposes.¡±


    It didn¡¯t exactly dissuade me from thinking I had a magical shotgun. Or a conduit for my latent powers, which actually sounded less believable the more I thought about it. Clara had made my Quake shots with V-Force, and she disliked magic, so perhaps she could set me straight later.


    [I clearly need something else to keep my mind busy.]


    She put her hands on her hips. ¡°Well, looks like we have lots of things to unpack. Or, I can think of something else¡­¡± One of her eyebrows raised as she tilted her head toward me.


    <hr>


    I glared at the white tiles of the bathroom across from me. My shotgun-arm vibrated against the edge of the bath repeatedly as the rest of my body shivered.


    The second worst thing about this ice bath was how cold it was. First worst thing being the complete lack of bubbles. Still, it had stopped half of my torso from blistering.


    My eyes turned away from giving the opposite wall my ire to see the bathroom door slowly open. Roxy popped her head through, a sheepish grin on her face.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Dubs. That¡¯s never happened to me before.¡±


    I nodded and turned back to look at the wall. Although I had no jaw to clench, I didn¡¯t feel much like speaking when the rest of me was so tense.


    She wormed her way into the room, now in a long t-shirt and black shorts. ¡°It wasn¡¯t you - I¡¯ve just been stressed with things. Exhaustion maybe?¡± The super stepped a little closer. ¡°Perhaps there¡¯s a pill I could take that¡­¡±


    [Roxy?]


    ¡°Yes, Dubs?¡±


    [Shut the fuck up.]


    I tilted my head toward her and sighed. She stuck her bottom lip out, but she could tell there was no anger in my request. Didn¡¯t stop the guilt from painting her expression, and she sat on the side of the bath to regard my status.


    ¡°It didn¡¯t cause any permanent damage to¡­ you know?¡±


    [Too early to tell. I may never play the lute again.]


    I raised my left hand up to show how raw it looked.


    Although she rolled her eyes, she still winced. ¡°They always make jokes that I¡¯ll crush my partners, but I bet you didn¡¯t think you¡¯d need to worry about being burned alive.¡±


    [Correct.]


    ¡°Probably because I went too far with my training earlier¡­ it¡¯s like I left the poker in the fire for too long. The metal holds too much residual heat. Clara is going to flip when she comes home and sees you in this state.¡±


    [I imagine she probably won¡¯t see me, as I can¡¯t wear compression shorts like this.]


    ¡°Yeah, true.¡± She pulled a face. ¡°Like the only things you could wear would be¡­ no nevermind.¡±


    [What is it Roxy?]


    ¡°Forget I said anything, Dubs.¡± She edged away from me, trying to leave the room.


    [Roxy¡­]


    <hr>


    I threw another empty cardboard box into the pile, being careful to not scrape it against my sore torso. The chairs and table for the garden had been a welcome surprise, but now we were unpacking a swinging chair - something that had made the super giddy and distracted her from glancing at me non-stop. I turned to see her eyes were actually on me once more.


    [This would go a lot quicker if you¡¯d stop staring at my ass.]


    Her already wide grin widened further. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault. You¡¯re wearing a thong, Dubs. It barely contains you. It looks even more erotic than if you were fully naked.¡±


    [Unless you¡¯d prefer Clara to come home to me assembling furniture in the nude, then this is the best compromise until my skin could abide being clothed.]


    Roxy snorted and shook her head. This was probably something I¡¯d find amusing in retrospect, but at present, it was just uncomfortable. One of the super¡¯s black thongs was the only thing that didn¡¯t sit on the burned skin than ran from just beneath my navel up to my chest - due to the v-shape of it. It covered my modesty in the briefest sense, but I would rather look a fabulous fool than let the super have all the fun unpacking our new items.


    The techie had gotten not only a large table and eight chairs, plus the chair swing, but a few garden lights that we could prop up around the area to illuminate things in the evening. Another package held new clothes for me - and Roxy stuck her bottom lip out now that I couldn¡¯t try anything on. A few tech supplies, including a new vocalizer and necessary port and connectors. But the biggest box of them all was the canister fabricating machine.


    When Roxy could stop giggling for five minutes, I helped guide her in carrying the large device in through the door and over to the designated place for it. Once it was in position, she turned to me and beamed.


    ¡°I probably shouldn¡¯t laugh, considering now you look like you¡¯re going to a bodybuilding competition. Kinda fucked of me to maim you and then get joy out of it.¡±


    [Perhaps next time I won¡¯t move and I¡¯ll just fry atop you like a rasher of bacon.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t. There won¡¯t be a next time. I learn from my mistakes.¡± She stepped forward and brought my arm up gently to see how my hand was healing.


    [Yet you¡¯re dating another team member again.]


    ¡°Nice segue.¡± Her eyes narrowed at me. ¡°Do you think our relationship will affect my leadership over the others?¡±


    [I¡¯ll let you know when I actually see it.]


    The super¡¯s mouth hung open for a second. ¡°Are you¡­ doing a bit?¡±


    I wasn¡¯t. My intention wasn¡¯t to be an asshole, either. My brow furrowed, and I looked around the room and out of the window. Silence filled the space between us, before I turned back to her.


    [No, sorry. Not sure why I got so agitated all of a sudden.]


    She sighed and put her arms around my neck, moving in close but not touching my torso. ¡°It¡¯s because there were no bubbles, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    [Partially.]


    ¡°Well, these kinds of accidents happen. Was I a bitch to you after you almost knocked my teeth out with your gun the other day?¡±


    [Kinda, yeah.]


    ¡°Exactly.¡± She smiled. ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to be perfect or kind all the time. You are going to be an asshole superhero soon, right? Our arguments just have to be¡­ measured, due to the fact that I have a temper.¡±


    [Clear communication will be important for us.]


    Roxy nodded, her burning eyes looking into mine. ¡°In saying that, I really think you should change into something else. They¡¯re not really meant for the male form and you¡¯re one awkward movement away from pinging them across the yard. Probably as soon as Clara arrives. Are you still sore?¡±


    I moved away from her so that I could look down at myself. It looked as though the worst was around my stomach still, but the lower parts looked much better.


    [As amusing as that sounds, I feel she has seen enough of me already. I should be able to change into some shorts now.]


    Although her face was one of amused disappointment, she gave me a nod and let me go. I stopped at the doorway to turn back, catching her once again checking me out.


    [I feel as though you owe me one for this.]


    ¡°Hey, getting your butt out was your decision. But, sure. Bubble bath later? And a continuation of our heavy petting without me turning into a grill? Only on one condition, though.¡±


    [Name your price. I¡¯ll pass if it¡¯s anything lute-adjacent, however.]


    She grinned. ¡°You should be careful about making that a thing. No, I was going to ask if you¡¯ve ever tried meditating?¡±


    [Hmm. Not intentionally. Often after a contract I sort of just stared blankly at the wall for hours until I needed to sleep away the pain or go murder more people.]


    Roxy maintained a blank expression for a few seconds. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ pretty sad. I mean, compared to who you actually are, that sounds soul destroying. I was going to ask if you could try for me after you get changed?¡±


    It didn¡¯t sound like the worst thing in the world. I gave her a nod and went to the house. A handful of minutes and I was back in the garden in some more respectable clothing. Late afternoon, heading towards evening already. I stopped at the porch as a notification came through.


    //Clara: I¡¯ve read through it twice.


    //Clara: I doubt we could get a more beneficial contract if we wrote it ourselves.


    //Clara: Every method of credit acquisition will have some downside.


    //Clara: This one at least has the backing of two friendly groups.


    //Gunquake: Understood. I¡¯ll send over my signed copy, if you could get that sorted?


    //Clara: Of course. I¡¯m almost finished up here and I¡¯ll do that and come home.


    //Clara: I¡¯m eager to get my hands on you


    //Clara: r new tech that arrived today~


    I shook my head and send her off the contract. Raised an eyebrow over to the side to see that in that short time, Roxy had managed to get the swing seat all set up. It was wide¡ªno doubt enough to fit three people¡ªand padded almost like a sofa. Sturdy, dark green legs held it up and allowed it to move back and forth. The super was already on it, absolute joy on her face.


    ¡°Had one of these back home on the farm. Reminds me of simpler times.¡± She tilted her head and stopped the gentle swinging. ¡°Get your moderately more clothed ass over here and sit, while I move the table and chairs around fives times until I decide where exactly I want them.¡±


    [As you wish.]


    She stood up and held it in place as I sat down, as if I had no concept of a swing. It wasn¡¯t quite as comfortable as the couch, but it was close. The super gave me a goofy grin as she walked away to move the chairs about, and I pushed myself to start a gentle rocking motion. Rather than stare out at the workshop, I closed my eyes. Took one long breath in before exhaling. Focusing on being calm and healing.


    I was assuming that was her intent, anyway. Either that, or she had just put me on the time-out chair for being aggravated with her. At first, my thoughts bounced around, so many things vying for my attention. League. Sponsorship. Clara and tech upgrades. The key and drive Boss had left me. Roxy. Silhouette. And¡­ then these quietened down.


    After some unknown time, I fell into the same manner of trance as I would in my little shack.


    Barely registering the movement of the swing or mutterings of the super unhappy with the table location. The fire of my love diminished, the joy of friendship all but erased, and the warmth of freedom and a lived life crumbled to dust.


    All that was left was silence and peace. A cool feeling that felt like damp mud. A slight ache in my right arm, but that was fine. The inability to speak anymore, but with a closed mouth, I didn¡¯t really need to. Nothing to say.


    Even this scene started to fade away. Dark browns marred with splashes of crimson turned to gray. I ascended beyond all that I was and wanted to be. A state of pure calm and contentedness where I could heal. Mind, body, and soul.


    I didn¡¯t know how long I spent in the void once I had managed to reach it, but by the time I opened my eyes, it was dark. The wash of headlights came from the side as Clara¡¯s van rolled up across the gravel.


    ¡°Interesting timing,¡± Roxy said, apparently now sitting beside me. ¡°You weren¡¯t just napping, right?¡±


    [No, I don¡¯t believe so.]


    ¡°Excellent.¡± She leaned forward and stopped the swing, prodding me in the chest as I turned to face her. ¡°So that might explain this, then.¡±


    I looked down to see the burns had basically cleared. No real soreness and even the skin discoloration had faded.


    [Did you know that would happen?]


    ¡°You¡¯re not the only one who can make lucky guesses, asshole.¡± She gave me a wink and put her hand on my leg. ¡°The amount of injuries you get, there¡¯s no way you would have survived on your own with just stims and crossed fingers. Especially without washing or changing clothes. Let me take another stab¡­¡± Roxy bit her bottom lip before continuing. ¡°The first year or two, it took you a lot longer to recover than this last year?¡±


    If I had a mouth to open and close, I would have done so. My mind cast itself back to those earlier days when¡­ yes, gunshot wounds would take weeks rather than days to patch over. I was pretty sure I had a limp from a leg break for four months of the first year. It had all become such a blur and gradual change I hadn¡¯t realized it.


    [You know, for a meathead you¡¯re pretty clever sometimes.]


    Her eyes narrowed, but she smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll not even swear at you for that. I¡¯m taking the high road. Although¡­¡± She turned to look at Clara, who had exited the van and started her way over to us with a wide smile on her face. ¡°Hey gremlin, I just confirmed Dubs can cast magic.¡±


    The techie paused and wavered, her expression souring. She then flipped us off and turned around to storm off into the workshop.


    [Is the disgust at magic a bit, or¡­?]


    ¡°Best go ask her yourself.¡± She gave me a pat on the leg. ¡°Here¡¯s a t-shirt since you¡¯re healed. I¡¯m going to go make a hot cocoa, and come back to enjoy this swing more.¡±


    I stood up after she gave me a quick kiss. Realized that the garden lights were now up and in full bloom. Five of them, like pale suns with metal hats on, sat on each corner of Roxy¡¯s garden, with the last down beside the workshop. I pulled the t-shirt on as I walked over to the larger side of the building where Clara had entered.


    [Knock-knock.]


    The techie turned in the chair beside the scanning computer and wrinkled up her face at me. ¡°Tell me it isn¡¯t so, Gunquake? I would have so many fanfics to delete if you were secretly a magician.¡±


    [There¡¯s nothing confirmed. I am able to speed up my regeneration when I meditate, but that¡¯s about it.]


    ¡°You got hurt today?¡±


    I maintained eye contact with her. There was some likelihood that she had turned my monitor to alert her of emergencies only. That said, she was my personal doctor, so I should be able to tell her anything.


    [Roxy accidentally burned me and I had to wear her underwear.]


    Clara didn¡¯t budge an inch, her bright green eyes just boring into me. ¡°No further questions. I am too exhausted to engage with that either seriously or flirtatiously. Instead, let me inform you about the results of the metal fragment scan.¡±


    [Please, go ahead.]


    I leaned against a crate as she swiveled back around to jab at a few buttons that changed the displayed information on the screen.


    ¡°Interesting.¡± Her eyes narrowed, dimming the green light illuminating the machine. ¡°It¡¯s an odd and uncommon alloy. It¡¯s not exactly¡­ radioactive, but there¡¯s an odd property to it.¡±


    [Something that can hurt supers?]


    Clara ran her tongue across her lips, hesitating for a moment.


    ¡°In a word, Gunquake; yes.¡±

 77 - Can-Do Attitude

    I stood on the grass, illuminated by the new garden lights, as the two women scowled at me with their arms crossed. The fact that they were swinging back and forth on the chair in front of me only slightly dulled their annoyed looks.


    ¡°It¡¯s illegal as shit, Dubs,¡± Roxy reiterated. ¡°You¡¯re about to be a hero. Don¡¯t fuck it up.¡±


    [It¡¯s only illegal if they find out.]


    She growled and shook her head. ¡°I should knock some sense into you. Back me up here, Clara.¡±


    Although the techie was giving me an equal amount of ire, she wrinkled her face up. ¡°This alloy is illegal to mine, store, sell, or fabricate into anything.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just stating fact. You¡¯re not dissuading him.¡±


    [Quick, Clara. Tell Roxy something much worse than some dirty rock ammunition.]


    The techie blinked once. ¡°In the southern jungles there is a large wasp species that will immediately seek out the ear canals of humanoids to lay their eggs within. The eggs secrete a-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± Roxy put her face into her hands. ¡°You¡¯re both going to get us branded as villains eventually, aren¡¯t you? Is having ammunition that can break through the weakness of superheroes that important?¡±


    It was. Despite my recent ascension into being more of a goody-two-shoes, there was still an underlying part of me that needed to have contingencies. Against everyone more powerful than me. Even Roxy. The League wasn¡¯t likely to give me any Sanguine stakes, so this was the next best thing - even if we had to make them ourselves.


    [It will level the playing field Rank-wise and keep me safer.]


    She deflated. ¡°I hate being the fucking sensible rule-following one out of us. I don¡¯t have the temperament for it.¡±


    Clara tilted away from the super. ¡°Aren¡¯t you the leader, though?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Roxy narrowed her eyes at me. ¡°Dubs, I forbid you from doing this.¡±


    [I¡¯m not part of the team yet.]


    ¡°Motherfucker! Fine. You can play with fire, but leave me out of it.¡± She returned to crossing her arms. ¡°I do hate being the stick in the mud, and love being part of your shenanigans, but if it could invoke the League¡¯s wrath, then I¡¯d rather be left in the dark.¡±


    I understood her stance completely. She was being sensible - biting the hand that feeds would get our team dismantled and us labeled as villains. I was partly betting on the League giving me a lot more allowances than most. They were interested in how I developed; I was sure. Like a kid watching an ant farm. My only hope was to not become boring and outstay my use.


    ¡°More secrets to keep from my sister, Gunquake.¡± The techie gave me a coy smile.


    Rather than get further annoyed, Roxy just rolled her eyes. ¡°I was watching this attractive hunk of bad ideas assemble furniture in nothing but a low-rise thong earlier, gremlin. Nothing you could say will override that memory.¡±


    Clara wrinkled up her face again. The additional descriptors further to what I had told her clearly more information than she wanted. Roxy seemed pleased enough that she had scored a point over the techie for a change that she didn¡¯t push the point any further. Her views had been made clear.


    No magic-detector could be acquired today, but Clara was working on it. The result of the scanner had distracted us from the other question I had intended to ask her.


    [Clara, how does V-Force work?]


    ¡°It¡¯s like a material that holds a lot of potential energy. Usually inert and has the properties of¡­ clay - but with the right electronics attached, it can be powered to exert force briefly.¡±


    [So it¡¯s like an electromagnet, or there¡¯s a chemical reaction that facilitates it?]


    She was silent for a moment, before pulling a face. ¡°You are implying that it works via magic, Gunquake?¡±


    [It¡¯s beyond my understanding either way. I am just hoping to get a clue as to my powers, without having to go through near-death experiences or further traumatic flashbacks.]


    The techie sighed, giving me a shrug. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know. We¡¯ll have to test once I can procure the detection device from Dr Jarl.¡±


    Roxy grinned, leaning back in the swing seat. ¡°I reckon the readings will be off the chart. Dubs is filled with magical bullshit for healing and precognition.¡±


    ¡°And I think that it will show nothing. Gunquake is just a man melded with technology that we just don¡¯t understand yet.¡±


    They both looked at me to see what my thoughts on the matter would be.


    [Perhaps whoever is closest to being correct can have a date night with me.]


    ¡°Look at you, thinking you¡¯re all hot shit.¡± Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not sure where you get off in thinking we¡¯re both simping for you non stop. Right, Clara?¡±


    ¡°What kind of date?¡± the techie asked.


    The super stood up from the seat and just shook her head at the techie. ¡°I¡¯m going to make another hot drink. You want one, gremlin?¡±


    ¡°Hot chocolate, please. Oh, and a beer for Gunquake? I want to try out his canister fabricator before we retire for the night.¡±


    Roxy nodded, taking her cup from the ground and going off into the house. Once she was out of earshot, Clara pat the swing seat for me to sit beside her. I did so and sighed as I relaxed into the soft cushions.


    ¡°Although I can¡¯t taste the chocolate, the warmth and texture is a novelty.¡± The techie gave me a brief smile before looking out over the workshop buildings to the dark sky. ¡°It¡¯s not even something wrong with my tongue, but something in my brain can¡¯t process the signals. After I lost my eyes, I was pretty miserable.¡±


    [Not something cybernetically fixable?]


    ¡°Eh.¡± Her hand slid over to hold on to my gun-arm, her fingers squeezing it gently. ¡°At first it was a cost thing. After my eyes, I had my fill of people prodding around in my brain. It¡¯s not something that really bothers me anymore.¡± She turned her gaze back to me. ¡°Can¡¯t miss something you¡¯ve never had.¡±


    I nodded, but couldn¡¯t find the words to respond. As much as I wanted to reassure her that if she ever changed her mind then I¡¯d support her, it seemed to be something she had long made peace with. I couldn¡¯t taste food either, but had at some point in my life. Couldn¡¯t quite remember it, but there was a lump in my thoughts. Food eating had existed in my previous incarnation.


    She looked to be content enough with my silence and strummed her fingertips on my weapon. ¡°I¡¯ll perform maintenance on your gun-arm once the fabricator is running, Gunquake. If we can ditch Rockslide for a little while, then we¡¯ll talk about our illegal ideas.¡±


    And that¡¯s just what we did. The super returned shortly after with the drinks, and the three of us went over to the workshop to see the new toy in action. It seemed simple enough to work. Clara just warned that anything we made at present wouldn¡¯t have the usual nanites and nutrition I was used to - those things were still due to arrive soon.


    One part of the machine on the right side opened up to reveal a glass drawer. A foot deep and wide, and a little longer lengthwise. Clara emptied the contents of the beer bottle inside and pushed the draw closed to sit flush within the machine. She made note that we could probably include the whole bottle and it would work, but I¡¯d probably not want liquified glass particles running through my bloodstream. I agreed.


    Left side of the machine had a slot for inserting an empty canister. We had twenty of the glass vials and would get more, depending how useful the fabricator ended up being. Once inserted, the machine power-washed the new canister to ensure it was sterilized. The center, which housed all the hidden working parts, vibrated and hummed as it vacuumed up the beer and started to process it.


    Something that would take a good twenty minutes, apparently.


    Roxy headed back indoors to catch up on her social media, assuring us that she¡¯d only read the ¡®get well soon¡¯ fan mail and nothing that would annoy her. Clara brought out the maintenance kit, and we sat back on the swing seat so that she could clean out my barrel.


    ¡°I know where you¡¯re heading with the metal processing idea, Gunquake. There are a lot of parts that could go wrong, I¡¯m sure you know.¡± She paused to look out to the wastes. ¡°Finding the mine is the first step.¡±


    [League hasn¡¯t called me back, so I¡¯ll probably do some investigating tomorrow.]


    Her green eyes came back to me. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware that I¡¯ll be with Dr Jarl, and Rockslide will refuse to join you.¡±


    [Of course. I¡¯m sure I can survive on my own for a day.]


    She hummed but didn¡¯t respond to that. I wasn¡¯t exactly much of a detective, but I knew well enough how to shake answers out of people. I might even get away with not getting injured if I was lucky.


    As I had emptied the tank of lubricant from my backpack, we needed to find something else to fill it up before my next outing. While Clara was eager to tell me she personally didn¡¯t have enough lube to fill it, we probably didn¡¯t have much else around the house that could be useful in battle. She checked the internet to see if we could buy the industrial stuff in bulk, while I considered whether water could be a safe alternative in certain situations.


    Once my gun maintenance was complete, we fell into idle conversation over tech ideas.


    ¡°What about a knife that pneumatically extends, and then also has tubes within the mechanism that let out a jet of air?¡± Clara looked up at the sky as we swung gently.


    [To overload their bloodstream with air bubbles? You could probably do something similar with a cartridge that would be more effective.]


    ¡°Oh. Like a little metal puffer fish. Have it expand with hollow spikes that eject something when it detects a certain temperature and moisture - so that it functions as soon as it punctures someone.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    [At that point, then poison might be more useful than air. We¡¯re reinventing the wheel again, however. Soft metal rods that would expand when striking soft targets would be deadly enough.]


    Clara pouted slightly. ¡°I suppose there¡¯s little point in being too creative, Gunquake. As long as you have an option for killing and subduing for soft, armored, and super targets, you¡¯re all set.¡±


    [Where you can really help is the niche options. The edge cases for dealing with certain powers or situations that are beyond the norm.]


    ¡°I suppose we should be aiming to work with what we can.¡± She gave me a slight smile. ¡°Even when we have the in-house shell maker, I don¡¯t think we can do anything as high-tech as our imaginations are guiding us. I¡¯m not sure I can stop breaking the law, however.¡±


    [And why is that?]


    Her head tilted slightly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Gunquake. You haven¡¯t unlocked that dialogue option yet. It¡¯s not a matter of trust, but my own readiness. I¡¯m sure you can read between the lines.¡±


    The house opening behind us interrupted any further thoughts on the matter. Probably something to do with her parents dying. An event that had shaped her life since. Amusing how the past could shackle us like that.


    ¡°Hey, nerds,¡± Roxy said, stepping over to us. ¡°The machine done yet?¡±


    It turned out that it was complete. A singular canister sat on the left side, now filled with a slightly-brown clear liquid. Given that it was about to go straight into my bloodstream, Clara assured me that it was safe - but I should limit the bullshit I tried to stick in me.


    With both their eyes on me, I removed my current one to replace with the beer canister. It wasn¡¯t as refreshing as the usual type I liked. I didn¡¯t immediately keel over though, so that was something.


    Roxy beamed. ¡°You know what this means? I¡¯m cooking your ass breakfast tomorrow.¡±


    [You do realize I still can¡¯t taste things this way?]


    ¡°Sure, but it¡¯s more of the process. It¡¯ll be fun for me.¡±


    I shrugged and allowed her that. The machine could breakdown most edible things into something my body could absorb, so I¡¯d get whatever nutrients were in her cooking, even if I couldn¡¯t taste or enjoy it in a traditional sense. While the techie explained how to use the machine for when she wasn¡¯t there, I stepped over to the window and looked out to the wasteland just past the house.


    There was a slight buzz from the beer. I wasn¡¯t used to alcohol, so I was probably just as much a lightweight as Clara was. It felt softer compared to how I felt back at the bar with Roy. Maybe without the sour tones of violence, it was easier to find comfort in the odd wooziness.


    If anything, it mostly made me feel tired. As if it wore away all the constant turning wheels in my mind. Despite the promise of a bubble bath and some frisky time with the super, I actually just felt like getting some rest instead.


    Both women were slightly disappointed when I made my intention known, but our days had been long and full of adventure as of late. I was eager to shut all that out, if only for a night.


    Thanks to the canister, the rest of the process was a blur. Inside, undressed, into the soft bed¡ªwhich slowly turned for some reason¡ªand then the familiar darkness.


    It was with some discomfort that I woke up the next morning, the light a little too bright for my liking. With a groan, I turned over to see the super sitting on the side of the bed. Already dressed in her gym wear, with a smile on her face.


    [Feel like someone opened my skull like a clamshell and filled my insides with sand. Would murder for a-]


    My sentence fell away as Roxy produced a chilled canister in her hand.


    [Did I ever tell you I love you?]


    ¡°Morning, Dubs.¡± Her smile softened, and one hand ran along my neck, unclasping the beer canister with practised precision. Once the new one hissed into place, I couldn¡¯t stop myself from sighing.


    [Absolute bliss.]


    ¡°You should put a normal one in before bed if you¡¯ve been drinking.¡± She held up the empty one to observe it. ¡°A lesson learned the hard way, huh?¡±


    I had luck on my side, and a pack of stims willing to pump me full of soothing painkillers to stop my head from falling into shards. Just needed some hydration, and I¡¯d be in peak form once more. I had¡­ an interesting day ahead.


    [How are you today?]


    ¡°I¡¯m good, Dubs. Clara has already set off - you slept in a little. I¡¯ve got lots of training planned, as I reckon I¡¯ll be back in the field soon enough.¡± She grasped at the skin near her hips. ¡°All this fun and ice-cream is putting me off my game.¡±


    My brow furrowed. It didn¡¯t look as though she had changed a bit since the day I had met her. She must have seen the concern clearly in my eyes as she rolled her own.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m only half serious. If I want to reach for A-Rank I do have to push a little more though, mostly with my volcano shit.¡±


    [I won¡¯t tell you what I¡¯m doing, but I¡¯ll be going for a bike ride for a bit.]


    ¡°There we go then. I¡¯ll lose the weight through worry.¡± The super leaned closer to cup the side of my face. ¡°Don¡¯t. Fucking. Die.¡±


    I bit my non-existent tongue and didn¡¯t say something to wind her up. Instead, I just nodded, which seemed to be enough to satisfy her. With a quick kiss on my forehead, she stood up from the bed and stretched out.


    ¡°I made you a breakfast burrito canister. You don¡¯t have to use it because it admittedly looks kinda gross, but it¡¯s there if you want a snack on your little adventure today.¡± Roxy smiled and started towards the door. ¡°I¡¯m going to get stuck in to my weights now, but message me later, okay? I love you.¡±


    [I promise. Love you too.]


    Still half under the covers, I turned to watch her leave. I had spent years working solo and living alone. Now I couldn¡¯t imagine things being any other way. With both of them busy today, I did look forward to some Dubs-only action, even if part of me would miss the team-play.


    Once the whole group was together, I would relish our first proper team mission. Would be like the old days¡­ although I didn¡¯t think that I led my old squad. Hmm. It seemed more likely I held a position that reflected my assigned class. So who would have been in charge of the ten of us?


    Warrior had no immediate connection. Paladin did, but didn¡¯t feel like we had been a religious or belief led group. Knight? Nothing. Battlemaster? No, too out there. Champion? My left arm tensed involuntarily at this thought. Something to add to the pile of question marks at the back of my head.


    I shook away these thoughts. Knowing at present wouldn¡¯t do anything to help with today¡¯s plans. I exited the bed, got dressed, and went down to the kitchen. Breakfast canister sat on the side. It looked like liquid shit. I took it anyway, because appearances could be deceiving, and Roxy had made the earnest effort to do this for me.


    Out into the garden, and it was a sunny day again. Perfect for melting away in the wastes. I went into the workshop to load up on gear. Drum full of Nerve, but enough ten-mags full of lethal ammunition to take on a small army. The heat-ray Jolt God had beamed me with hadn¡¯t damaged my gear more than some minor warping. Maybe reduced the active life of the fabric and connections, but that shouldn¡¯t matter.


    Clara was keen to tell me that once I was a hero, the League would then replace my gear with higher quality things, anyway. I¡¯d be even more death-resistant, but look the same.


    The computer was now four doors through the encryption on the drive, and I hope that it wouldn¡¯t be something banal or disappointing after all this buildup. A quick peek into the large side of the workshop and the scanning machine was now full of my ruined Bard tactical vest. Just to check the long-dried blood was mine, I was sure.


    And that was it for me this morning. I stretched out before getting atop my bike and sent Roxy a message.


    //Dubs: Heading out, will keep you updated.


    No immediate response, so I flicked the bike on and rolled away. I had a long ride ahead of me, so the sooner I could get started the better. Map came up on my goggle lense, and I plotted a route. A simple enough journey.


    Back to the mutants who had shot Roxy with the odd material.


    Clara had called it Frauxemite. There was little useful information available publicly about it, but there were rumors over it being either from an ancient artefact that was destroyed, or a meteor that hit Othea a long time ago. Given that the first option involved magic, Clara leaned toward it being from somewhere else in the universe.


    Other than partially ignoring superpowers, there was no other known use - at least from what we could research. It made me wonder if the mutants had knowingly created the rough bullets with the stuff or it was just chance. I hoped for the former, and that I could shoot enough charisma into their faces to tell me where the mine was.


    And then?


    Well, there was a lot a moving parts needed before I held our own version of the Sanguine stakes. This was just the domino-setting-up stage. Illegal, sure. If they wanted to stop me, then I¡¯d be there waiting for them. Ready to burn everything down if I didn¡¯t get my own way.


    Perhaps the hangover still lingered.


    At least the journey was smooth enough. I took the time to think about how best to approach Belle. Cult aside, I didn¡¯t really know much about her supposed religion and the man who was financially backing her. Perhaps it was time to twist the arms of my newer allies.


    //Gunquake: Hope you are pleased with our approval, Wren.


    //Wren: You can call me Ren, Dubs. Although it sounds the same out loud, I¡¯d prefer to think we were on first name basis now.


    //Wren: And yes, I am very pleased. I know it probably feels like I had you both by the balls.


    //Wren: But this will be a huge boon to the team.


    //Gunquake: I believe it. In regards to that, I wondered if you¡¯d do me a favor.


    //Gunquake: As you are someone who likes to be in the know, I¡¯d like to learn about Belle before I go to meet her.


    //Wren: Pragmatic, of course.


    //Wren: I¡¯ll send some documents over shortly.


    //Gunquake: Thanks, Ren.


    Even if she was money orientated, she at least understood what I was trying to do. Raising each of us up would elevate the team, which meant being showered with credits and attention. It¡­ wasn¡¯t necessarily what I wanted, but was a stepping stone to my eventual goal.


    Of being free?


    It had seemed reasonable at one point. Be beyond the control of the League, even if we¡¯d still be under the thumb of¡­ the World Government? The motorbike wavered slightly as my concentration went off course, before I corrected.


    Before long, I saw the familiar rock formations and the small outpost that we had literally kicked through not a couple of days ago. I didn¡¯t have the drone to warn me of the land mines, and didn¡¯t fancy walking too far in this heat - so driving right up to the front door was how this was going to go.


    Foolish, sure, but I was willing to put my luck to the test.


    A crack whipped through the air from the direction of the looming outpost. I flung back, pain radiating through me as the bike slid out, both of us hitting the gravel and tumbling across the warm ground. Awash with a cloud of dust, I rolled up to my feet and raised my secret weapon in the air.


    My breathing came haggard as my lungs recovered from the shock. The bullet had struck my upper chest, skimming through my collarbone and over my cybernetic neck. Wasn¡¯t too damaging due to my outfit and the distance. Their firearms were just a pale imitation - but now I was a sitting duck.


    So I walked forward, my left arm up, waving a white flag even though it ached. Hadn¡¯t broken anything in my tumble, but was certainly bruised up. I waited for the inevitable follow-up shot. Instead, there were muffled yells.


    I was sweating something fierce beneath my coat and balaclava. My eyes were trained on their newly-built sniper tower even as I stood my bike back up. It had a defensive shield I could pop up, but my reactions weren¡¯t quick enough to stop a bullet. I didn¡¯t want to seem like a threat.


    A difficult sell.


    The only thing more surprising than reaching the front gates without earning a new speed hole through my skull was the fact that they understood and were honoring the white flag. Assuming they didn¡¯t have a plan to capture and eat me alive, of course. That would probably be an awkward message to have to send to Roxy.


    ¡°Green-gas,¡± a voice shrieked from what I assumed was the top ladder above the closed metal gates. A bald head poked up, scaled on one side, two bright eyes full of ire for me. ¡°Why have you returned? To slay more of us?¡±


    [I have come to discuss something - a trade.]


    The mysterious man pulled a face before looking down away from me to people behind the door. The sound of muffled arguing came through as I stepped off my bike and stretched my weary legs out.


    ¡°Is the Crimson-bitch still with you?¡±


    [No¡­ we are no longer allies.]


    At least, in this matter, it was the truth. My eyes went back up to the shadowed tower, where the glint of a long weapon prodded through metal slats - pointing directly at me. Perhaps if this all went wrong, I¡¯d tell her what they had called her.


    The head reappeared. ¡°We already have enough problems thanks to you, Green-gas. Did the Jaded Tusks send you?¡±


    I shook my head.


    [You have access to mining a certain mineral. I want a part of that.]


    He vanished again to argue amongst the others. I noticed that the walls of the outpost were slightly different from the last time I was here. There were now jutting metal panels like castle ramparts all around - I¡¯d just caught the sight of another mutant hiding behind one off to the side. Rusted razor-wire sat around the base of the outer wall. Was it a response to Roxy and I coming in and destroying them?


    The gates opened, a clunk and grinding sound that made me twitch in reflex. No immediate violence came my way, as instead it revealed a dozen or so mutants standing waiting for me - armed and with makeshift armor on.


    At the front was the speaker, now revealed to have one arm on the scaled side that looked like a bird¡¯s talon. He had a wide stance, with slightly longer legs that fit the rest of his body. His armor was better fabricated than the others, but still dusty and rusting in places. With his humanoid hand, he gestured me forward.


    ¡°I am Hear-guts, Green-gas.¡± With his nod, the gates started to close behind me. ¡°You have many testicles for returning after murdering so many of us.¡±


    [It is surprising you are willing to give me a chance.]


    ¡°Desperation is a wet pillow when you really want a soft bosom, but better than sleeping against sharp stones.¡± Hear-guts grinned, revealing oddly shaped teeth. ¡°Your massacre weakened us, and now another tribe seeks to erase us from the grace of the eternal warmth.¡±


    [Would that be the Jaded Tusks?]


    He nodded and the smile sunk from his expression. ¡°If you want the secret mine, city-scum, there is one thing you can do for us¡­¡±


    I knew what it would be before he even said it. The worst thing was, I felt butterflies in my stomach at the prospect. Excitement in my core.


    ¡°Join us in the fight and kill the invaders. They¡¯re already on the way.¡±

 78 - Fire Fight

    I knew there was a non-zero chance that the League had their eyes on me. If they weren¡¯t a fan of me getting myself into a mutant turf war, well - that was tough luck. I was a vigilante, which meant I broke the law to uphold the law. Or something like that, I wasn¡¯t entirely sure how they saw it.


    Still, with the promise of access to Frauxemite if I cracked a few skulls, I was happy enough to drink deep from the cup of violence once more. Most mutant tribes were classified as enemies of Goldarch, anyway. I was doing¡­ someone a favor. Mostly myself.


    I narrowed my eyes from the back of the outpost, looking out further west. Hear-guts hadn¡¯t been lying. The Jaded Tusks were already on the way. Perhaps part of my usual lucky streak that I had arrived just in time. Dots on the horizon approaching. A good¡­ thirty plus shapes, I estimated. Hard to tell at this range.


    Looking back around the outpost, I didn¡¯t think this group of mutants had even twenty fighters ready and able. Partly my fault, although Roxy had done most of the killing. Although their current leader had said they were desperate enough to trust me, it was still¡­ a little too convenient.


    [Hear-guts, before I arrived, how angry at me were you? On a scale of one to ten.]


    The mutant scratched at his scaled chin with his clawed hand. ¡°Probably an eight, but the Crimson-bitch was a solid ten.¡±


    She sure was.


    [Did it go down when I arrived and spoke with you?]


    ¡°Maybe to like¡­ seven?¡± He shrugged, brow furrowed as he tried to understand my train of thought.


    [How about now that you¡¯ve been standing next to me for ten minutes?]


    ¡°Three or four.¡±


    I grunted, now pretty sure what the magic detector would say once we came to use it. That thought fell away as I looked at the notifications coming in from Wren. A couple of documents I¡¯d need to read through when I wasn¡¯t involved in a gang war.


    [Let me tell you the extent of what I want, Hears-guts, and then I will offer you what I can exchange.]


    He nodded politely and glanced at the woman who stood beside him. Tall and slim, in a dress of wrapped leathers, the leader had introduced her primarily as his frequent mate - before letting slip that she was also the tribe¡¯s shaman. Jutting jaw and curled hair rising from her head like a cloud, her eyes were covered so that she could use her minor magical powers. Her name was Wet-foot, and it seemed she was the spiritual guide for the group.


    Although... she hadn¡¯t helped protect against Roxy and I rocking up and kicking the shit out of them.


    [I need the green rock known as Frauxemite from your mines. Perhaps all of it that you can find.]


    They both nodded along, before raising an eyebrow - expecting more than that.


    [Oh, and don¡¯t call her Crimson-bitch. Maybe¡­ Lava-queen.]


    Hear-guts pulled a face. ¡°A name change is unusual and not something often given¡­ however, it depends on what you are offering in return?¡±


    [For the Frauxemite, I will trade you more useful materials or items for your tribe. As for the name change¡­]


    I turned and pointed my gun-arm out to the wastes where the other group of mutants were approaching from.


    [I will kill every Jaded Tusk on their way here, ensuring none of you come to harm.]


    Defenders often had the advantage in such a siege, but they were outnumbered maybe 2 to 1. Although the Tusks didn¡¯t have many vehicles, I had been told that they had something akin to a wide bulldozer. Even with the mines surrounding the base, it wouldn¡¯t take long for the walls to be breached, and then we¡¯d just have enemies on every side.


    Rushing off and soloing was dangerous as well, but part of me¡­ craved it. Like the old me was now leaking out, and I needed to push the extremes to know exactly what I was. What I was capable of.


    The pair looked at each other and murmured something in a language that I didn¡¯t know. By their body language and tone, it didn¡¯t sound negative or threatening. They probably knew that I could wipe out their outpost, even if they didn¡¯t think I could take on the Tusks by myself.


    ¡°You tell-speak brave words, Green-gas,¡± the woman said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was dry and raspy, but filled with confidence. ¡°This green rock must be important for you to take such a danger-risk.¡±


    [I am a killer, killing anything in my way of becoming a better killer.]


    Hear-guts grimaced, but nodded. ¡°Then we will not stand in your way. Is there anything we can do to help you succeed?¡±


    I turned my gaze past them, to an area of the outpost that was still charred and darkened from my previous visit here.


    [Perhaps there is.]


    <hr>


    I hummed to myself as my bike rocketed over the dry dunes. An odd tune, something akin to a pre-battle hymn. As long as it wasn¡¯t played by lute, I allowed it. While Roxy had wanted updates on my day, I didn¡¯t feel as though it would be a good idea to tell her what I was about to do.


    Perhaps someone should know, just to recover my body in case something bad happened.


    //Gunquake: Nothing major, but I¡¯m heading into a little scuffle.


    //Gunquake: Don¡¯t want Roxy to worry.


    //Clara: But it is okay if I worry?


    //Gunquake: Yes.


    //Clara: Be careful, Gunquake.


    //Clara: And if you can¡¯t be careful, be unrelenting.


    //Gunquake: Already on it. Will keep you updated.


    Would only be a minute before I would have intercepted the wide convoy heading this way. It made no sense to me why the Jaded Tusks would want to erase these mutants and claim a half-ruined outpost. Not that much in my life really made much sense, either.


    I was close enough to the oncoming horde to make them out with a little more fidelity. Perhaps a dozen or two more than originally anticipated. The head of their group was a wide vehicle - the bulldozer, no doubt. They had a few other vehicles in their retinue. A couple of buggies and smaller bikes, but they were slow and keeping pace with those on foot. Seemed like an inefficient way to do a siege, but they must have had confidence that they had the upper hand against the outpost.


    And they would have, if it weren¡¯t for me.


    If I wanted to be at least a B-Rank hero, then there was a certain amount of competency in the face of greater threats I needed to prove I had. Mostly to myself. I¡¯d killed just over a handful of supers, but almost died each time. Not only would the League expect a better track record, but Roxy would, too - which was something even more important.


    The Jaded Tusks had stopped now, either readying to deflect my assault or wondering if I was a messenger sent to parlay. If they had any rifles, then I¡¯d be coming into range very shortly.


    It was time to see what I was truly made of.


    I unclipped my gun-arm from the handlebar rest and loaded up a Triple shot. Left hand pressed at the first button, causing a shield to envelop the vehicle and myself. Couldn¡¯t take any chances. My V-Force hummed and crackled as my shot went out, the Tusks now zipping into taking up the majority of my frontal arc.


    Smoke billowed from the three shells as they blew up dust, striking in a line as I continued at the group like a rocket. My approach was immediately obscured, causing them to shout and realize my intention.


    The bike burst from the front of the deep gray cloud at the forefront at a steep angle, turning to the right. A handful of shots rang out, most missing the vehicle completely - but just as two struck the shield - the Tusks found out something.


    I was no longer on the bike.


    The last button on the panel previously untouched allowed brief remote control. As the bike circled around their flank, still drawing a plenty of eyes, I stepped out from the cloud myself. Momentum and a brief breeze had carried both myself and the smoke closing to the group arranged in a loose regiment. Roughly fifteen wide and three deep.


    Front row had the bulldozer center stage, with two buggies on the far ends. A handful of ramshackle bikes mixed in between. Those with guns were in the second row, if not already standing on the back of a vehicle for extra height. A mixture of melee weapons were mostly at the back, but I could see the ones who weren¡¯t distracted ready-up to charge at me.


    Jaded Tusks was perhaps an apt name. Each of them resembled humanoid warthogs, with coarse dark hair covering where thick leathers and decorated pieces of their previous victims didn¡¯t. They had an overtly punk aesthetic, full of piercings, studs, and tattoo-like graffiti on any surface that allowed it.


    My shotgun fired off a High Explosive shell, striking the nearest bike on the left in the exposed guts of the machine. It completely blew through the fuel tank and whatever other reserves it held upon it, causing it to explode. The rider atop it was split in half from the resulting force.


    A third of the Tusks were still distracted by my bike coming back around. The leader standing on the bulldozer stared me down, raising what looking to be a double-barreled shotgun toward me. Unfortunately, I always won shotgun-offs.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Controller in my left hand clicked as I activated the other button on the bike. Electricity crackled and burst out from the sides as I controlled it to plow into the back row of apprehensive mutants. I rolled across the dirt as a barrage of shots scored the ground around me, one bouncing off my cybernetic arm, while another pierced my leather jacket but was stopped by my gauntlet.


    Another Smoke blew up around me from my selectloader, but I sprinted straight away. Emerging from the cloud and covering the distance between us in two short seconds. They had recovered from the initial shock of my assault and were rallying. Their vehicles spluttered and thrummed into life as some from the back charged to meet me.


    My bike had run two down, and other five lay in various states of being stunned from the pulses of power. It had escaped the grouping off to the left flank, and was circling back around as tightly as the speed and my controls would allow.


    Second HE slug blew the front tire away from the bike right in front of me, tipping the rider and passenger off balance. I was already there to meet them, my synapses flaring up as my arm lashed forward in what I¡¯d call¡­ Quick snap. Pretty terrible¡­ but much worse for the warthog passenger. My gun barrel flashed straight into his face, completely shattering his features.


    I followed up by grabbing the driver and dragging them off the inert bike and onto the floor. HE shot to the back of their head, painting the dry ground with a long spray of their brain matter.


    A shot whizzed past and struck the bulldozer that was now behind me as it slowly tried to turn to my current position. I was using it as cover from the left side of the group. The click of another makeshift firearm had me rolling across the ground, turning into a crouched position to rack another HE cartridge. My shot cratered through the chest of the one who had fired, and they fell from their position.


    Any further attempts to pick off the ranged mutants were immediately halted as I turned with my gun across me to block the downward swing of a rough axe. My left fist lashed out, blade extending from my gauntlet to cut into the thick thigh of the Tusk. As they staggered back in shock, their limb immediately weakening, I powered up to my feet and pushed their weapon away. I knocked them down to fall to the rocky ground just as my empty shell bounced beside them.


    Turned and shot another bike engine, sending a warm shockwave through us as a dark cloud of smoke billowed into the air from the explosion. While the others tried to get a bead on me, my motorbike careened back through the group¡ªnarrowly missing the back of the bulldozer¡ªto plow through three more warthogs and ramp briefly over the last bike on this side.


    The bike landed awkwardly, tumbling and kicking up dust before managing to right itself. A few more dents and scratches on the poor thing.


    I lashed out at the downed axe-wielding mutant with a kick, his face cracking from the impact. Three more melee mutants were fast approaching. Being locked in might make it too risky for the ranged Tusks to fire on me - or prevent me with opportunities to escape.


    As my gun-arm raised up to meet them, they went to dodge. Instead of firing, I turned in an arc and sprayed a foul smelling liquid out from the tank on my back. The sneeze of the chamber emptying made them wince, even if they could ignore whatever I had just sprayed them with.


    First one lunged forward with a spear. I caught it and pulled it past my left side, bringing the mutant forward so that I could turn and strike him with my metal elbow. The air cracked behind me as a shot managed to pierce through to my lower back, dulled by my tactical gear. Stims washed through me, erasing the notion of being hurt. Gun-arm turned and blew the leg off the shooter, just before the second melee hog barreled into me.


    We both fell to the ground and rolled along, trying to get a grip on each other. I didn¡¯t have time to be pinned down. He grabbed at my throat. I grabbed at his. The extendable blade from my gauntlet burst through his tough neck, covering my gloved hand in blood. I rolled off of him and fired at the third combatant that was trying to take advantage of my position.


    Their lower leg came clean off, causing them to topple forward over their fallen friend. I rolled to a crouch and lashed up with my hand-blade, finding their eye socket as they dropped toward me. As an empty shell dropped on their convulsing body, I blew through the tank-tracks on the buggy being driven toward me. The disconnected wheels bit into the rocky ground and caused the vehicle to twist and roll over.


    Motorbike zoomed past, out of view behind the bullzdozer, before there was an almighty crash and large explosion - perhaps it had found the other buggy. As another group of five mutants ran toward me, with a further three rounding the large vehicle, I partially wished I had convinced Roxy that I could have two shotgun-arms instead of just one.


    Instead of shooting at the mutants, I ran toward the bulldozer. A vehicle converted from something stolen from the city and outfitted with more metal plating and an unhealthy amount of spikes. As I moved, my gun-arm leaked. A modest amount of V-Force just emptying the contents of my backpack at a controlled pace.


    The apparent leader atop this vehicle fired at me. Didn¡¯t matter, I kept moving. His anger came out as guttural yells to his underlings as I hopped up onto the wheel arch of his shitty steed. Another couple of wide steps and I was on the vehicle proper. As he switched to something more close-range, my Overcharge spooled up, and I nailed him near point-blank with a sneeze that was more of a punch of pure force.


    His feet slipped on the slick metal after I had so carelessly soaked everything on my warpath. Bouncing off of the roof with an ungainly clang, he then fell off the front, rolling across the large spiked scoop to crash atop the ground. Luckily for him, his driver stopped moving and didn¡¯t run him down.


    Unluckily for him, my Incendiary shot clicked in from my selectloader.


    After I had destroyed the flamethrower at the outpost, they hadn¡¯t had much need of all the fuel stockpiled. Or at least they were willing to part with enough to fill my backpack tank. I dropped down from the left side of the bulldozer as high flames spread from the top of the vehicle and ran down across the ground where I had emptied so much of it.


    Their leader squealed and rolled around, trying to put out the fire¡ªand that¡¯s when I could see it in the rest of their eyes. They had been beaten.


    My next few shots disabled the rest of the vehicles on this side. Some tried to run. I picked up my damaged bike¡ªstill functional¡ªand chased them down. Returned and went through the carnage with one of their spears and stuck each of the bodies. Made sure every last one was dead.


    As the bulldozer continued to burn, darkening the sky with smoke, I stopped and surveyed the destruction. No sense of pride. Nor any regret. I felt neutral about the whole event. It was just part of a greater transaction. Was I not supposed to be more empathetic these days?


    All I was left with was some notes for Clara on what tech I would like.


    Perhaps this was what she had been saying. My speed and strength had increased lately. A side effect of my old connectors regaining their function. I was made for killing supers, and these¡­ mutants weren¡¯t anything close. It was like a professional fighter taking on the friday night drunkards. Enough of them could be a threat - and I had taken minor injury - but left unaccosted I would run over them roughshod.


    I shook my head. Hundreds of criminals had met the same fate over the years. Karma already had me penned in for something dire. This wasn¡¯t even a drop in the bucket. I straddled my damaged bike, and it complained as it spluttered back into life.


    It was time enough to return to the outpost and see if they¡¯d uphold the deal. I knew some of the sour tones clouding my mind were because this was the closest thing to a Boss contract I¡¯d had in a while. As much as killing was almost as natural as breathing, the League and my friends didn¡¯t expect that or ask it of me. That was nice, sometimes.


    I tried to keep my mind clear as I trundled my way back to the outpost, Hear-guts opened the gates with a look of complete shock on his face as I pulled to a stop just inside.


    [My part of the transaction has been completed.]


    ¡°We¡­ watched.¡± He nodded slowly. ¡°We are thankful¡­ and mildly scared.¡±


    [Good. That should keep you alive and useful to me. You will mine and store the Frauxemite for me, and store it here. I will send someone to collect it on occasion.]


    Whatever inclination the mutant might have had to argue some of the finer details had clearly left his skull once he saw how ruthless and efficient I had been. ¡°Yes, Green-gas. How will we know the courier is legit?¡±


    A fair question.


    [I will send them with a flag. Black, with two bright green circles. To remind you of the last thing you¡¯d ever see if you crossed me.]


    Tongue caught in his mouth, Hear-guts just nodded.


    [It would be useful for us to have a way to communicate. I will arrange for that to be facilitated. Before I go, I have one question for you.]


    ¡°Please, ask away.¡±


    [Do you know anything about the safe we opened last time, or have you had any other visitors lately?]


    He worked his jaw, looking just past me in thought, before his clawed hand came up to rub the back of his neck. ¡°No, nobody that we haven¡¯t eaten. We¡¯ve been here about five months after being displaced from the Jut-Jut Range.¡±


    Somehow I thought it unlikely that they¡¯d captured and killed Boss. I was started to suspect the mystery man had capabilities further than just being an elusive mobster.


    [Fine. That is all. How many days do you need before I first send a courier?]


    ¡°With our reduced numbers¡­¡± He winced as he looked around the outpost. ¡°A week, perhaps? Two, if you want anything substantial."


    I ran the numbers in my head. We had a lot of spinning plates, and some of them were being gatekept with red tape. Good things came to those who had patience. To get my hands on a constant source of super-damaging material¡­ I could wait a little while.


    [Two weeks it is then. Stay safe, Hear-guts.]


    ¡°Thank you, again.¡± He bowed low as my bike groaned back into running.


    I said nothing more as I left. The gate shut behind me as my lense map directed me back towards home. Mission accomplished? Sure. I had stretched out my killing muscles and earned a tentative ally. Respect due to fear wasn¡¯t tenable for the long term, however. Another undercooked problem I¡¯d had to spend more time on in the future.


    With a sigh that brought up some of my battle-earned aches, I flicked out the nutrition canister and slipped in the breakfast burrito one. There wasn¡¯t an immediate sense of relaxation, nor disgust. There was a slight warmth, and it wasn¡¯t unpleasant. My eyes smiled despite the wishy-washy reaction. I was eating something Roxy cooked for me.


    //Gunquake: Alive and well, heading back home.


    //Clara: Good. What did you gain?


    //Gunquake: Fortnightly deliveries of Frauxemite.


    //Gunquake: In exchange for more blood on my hands.


    //Gunquake: And some creature comforts.


    //Clara: Impressive as always.


    //Clara: Debrief me later~


    I left out the part about possibly needing a new bike. Or other vehicle. My mobility had become a sticking point, both in combat and out.


    //Gunquake: On my way home now.


    //Roxy: Good! In one piece, I hope?


    //Gunquake: I only feel like one whole piece when I¡¯m with you.


    //Roxy: ¡­


    //Roxy: Fucker x


    //Roxy: You must have done some shit to be buttering me up.


    //Roxy: Spar with me when you get home?


    //Gunquake: Sounds great.


    //Gunquake: Oh, breakfast was great - thank you.


    //Roxy: Anytime, Dubs x


    A quick glance at my lense and I had three superficial bullet wounds, one shallow cut, and a handful of bruises. It seemed like wearing all this tactical gear had advantages other than carrying all my death-dealing implements. The fact that the former-Tusks had makeshift weapons was beyond the point.


    Still, if we started getting into proper missions, I needed a little more. The outfit the League would give me would have more damage absorption¡ªClara had informed me that the balaclava would be similar to wearing a helmet with how much it could protect from bullets¡­ but with Wren mentioning shielding there must be other ways for me to edge away from death.


    Another case of too much to do with little time. Our money issues should be sorted soon, at least.


    Despite the heat of the wastelands, I found myself feeling rather hopeful. A dangerous thing, I was sure. Moving forward and making progress helped me ignore the mysteries hiding in the shadows. My motorbike didn¡¯t seem to share the same viewpoint, the engine making some unhealthy sounds as I continued. All it had to do was get me home, and I¡¯d give it a respectable burial with its brothers.


    Something that I had missed out on¡­


    I blinked away a half-formed thought as a notification came in. Expecting it to be one of my team, a weight shifted in my stomach in seeing that it was from Stacy.


    //Stacy: Hey GQ. Hope your day is going well.


    //Stacy: I¡¯d like for the three of you to come in this afternoon.


    //Stacy: If you¡¯re not otherwise engaged.


    My muscles tensed up as I considered whether she knew what exactly I had been up to.


    //Gunquake: Is this for the mission debriefing?


    //Stacy: That, and the League are eager for you to get into something new.


    //Gunquake: B-Rank, and soon?


    //Stacy: Yes, and tonight.


    //Stacy: We will talk more when you¡¯re here, GQ.


    //Gunquake: Understood. I can¡¯t wait.


    That¡¯s what I get for thinking too positively.


    Looks like I¡¯d need to step into the darkness once more.

 79 - Stolen Truths

    I was drenched through with sweat. The quick burst of combat combined with the fire I had started¡ªall under the unrelenting sunshine¡ªhad me feeling overheated. Perhaps the League was right to stick me in the ¡®vigilante in the shadows¡¯ role. It was, of course, how I lived before. Part of me missed it, even though I had grown accustomed to the light and all that brought with it.


    After half an hour of shuddering and complaining, the motorbike died about a mile off from home base. That seemed narratively underwhelming, as I had expected it to give up the ghost as it rolled into my yard. Perhaps the walk was penance for the sins I had just carried out¡­ but if that was the case, I accepted the stroll through the heated wastes. Hell wasn¡¯t that bad.


    By the time I arrived home, Clara was already back. Both women in sour moods. The techie was unhappy to be taken away from her education early, especially¡ªas she told me¡ªbecause my rappel was almost complete, but the magic detector wasn¡¯t quite ready to be taken from the doctor¡¯s office.


    Any brief happiness in seeing me return had turned into a narrow-eyed glare from the super. The state of my outfit apparently leaving it a little too obvious that I had been making some trouble, and turning up to see Stacy covered in mutant blood would be a bad idea. So while I washed off at the sink, she cleaned through my outfit. Things were tense between the three of us, not knowing what the League was going to ask of me.


    Clara also quickly cleaned out my gun-arm, insisting that I¡¯d have to walk otherwise. Having the van stunk out by the fumes of whatever dirty synthetic fuel the mutants had given me was not something she was willing to tolerate.


    And so, with plenty of grumbling, Clara went off into the vehicle to turn it around for us as Roxy helped me put my overcoat back on. There was no need to go to the meeting fully armed, but I had appearances to keep up - even if nobody really knew me just yet.


    I tried to ignore the thought that soon enough I might become a public spectacle. A bard mostly in name, I wasn¡¯t really built for showmanship.


    The super had a ring of pink skin on each upper arm, maybe an inch and a half up from her elbow. Further training, but she hadn¡¯t pushed as hard as yesterday. Even at this reduced pace, it would only be a week before she could switch her whole arms into lava as she intended. Where she wanted¡ªor even could¡ªgo after that was an entirely different matter.


    I put my second arm through the jacket and shrugged it into place. Roxy hovered beside me once the deed was done, so I turned to her. There was a conversation desperate to escape from her mouth, if the fiery torment behind her eyes was anything to judge by.


    ¡°Asshole,¡± she eventually said, sighing with exasperation. ¡°I can¡¯t do the secrecy thing. You¡¯ll have to tell me what you did.¡± The super crossed her arms, bracing herself for whatever I was about to tell her.


    [Are you sure? What happened to keeping a clean nose?]


    She rolled her eyes. ¡°Listen, Dubs. If I¡¯m going to be the leader then I need to know what wasp nests you¡¯ve been kicking over. I was talking to Stacy earlier and there¡¯s¡­ a chance the team will rebranded once we all return.¡±


    [Oh? In what way?]


    ¡°Like we might all be pushed toward the vigilante or anti-hero look.¡± Her nose wrinkled up at this, and she looked out past me to the city. ¡°All heroes are assholes, but we might be the only ones allowed to show it.¡±


    [There¡¯s a lot of ¡®might¡¯s in all this.]


    ¡°Yeah, well.¡± Roxy gave me a shrug. ¡°Not something I really get to decide. I¡¯ve bought some black eyeliner already, though.¡±


    [I went back to that mutant outpost with the safe and made a deal with them to gain access to any Frauxemite they mine. The deal partially included helping fend off a siege from a rival gang.]


    ¡°Typically said gang was arriving just as you got there.¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°So you killed a handful of the bastards. What was the rest of the deal?¡±


    I weighed up whether I should give her the full details, or just allow her to think it was a small group I only assisted in defeating. No, she needed the truth. It wasn¡¯t because I needed to brag, either. She knew what I was capable of, so I doubted the tale of defeating such a large group of mutants would wow her.


    [It was around three dozen mutants, and I killed them off solo before they reached the outpost. The rest of the deal included trading the outpost goods to help them thrive.]


    Roxy nodded slowly. ¡°I should have known you¡¯d do something risky and be a soft-hearted lug after that. Fine. I appreciate you telling me, even if it¡¯s dangerous bullshit.¡± She came in and we hugged. More gentle than usual, due to her sensitive arms.


    [The plan won¡¯t bear fruit for a couple of weeks, at the earliest. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll find a way to get maimed or die before then.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t even, asshole.¡± She pulled away and gave me a playful scowl. ¡°Let¡¯s go see what the League wants with us now.¡±


    With one last glance at our home, we set Erin to scan a mile radius and drove off toward Goldarch proper.


    <hr>


    I must have spent most of the journey in the back of the van in a half-daze, as the travel felt like it only took two minutes. Perhaps I was more tired from my day out that I had thought. More likely, all these shadows chasing me around had me mentally exhausted. Clara had parked up in the same place as before, and the back door popped open so I could step out into the city.


    Looking around briefly, I considered that soon enough I was meant to protect this place. Would be spending hours roaming the streets or¡­ well, I needed a way to prowl the rooftops. A hero strolling the ground floor was just asking for trouble - especially with how I looked.


    As I stepped over to the sidewalk to join the other two, I paused and looked at the grass verge beside our vehicle. Dew again. It was now late afternoon. My brow furrowed, and I turned in a slow circle. The building beside us was mostly windowless. Possibly an office block as it was constructed similarly to Stacy¡¯s office.


    ¡°Come on, Dubs,¡± Roxy called, waving me over. ¡°Everything okay?¡±


    I considered what I could even say at this point, before just nodding. If I started to get paranoid, then all of this would start unraveling. Probably violently. I had a gun for an arm. Any state of madness could have detrimental consequences.


    We walked around into the lot and over to the office. I kept my eyes up around the other office blocks. From this distance, most either had blinds over the windows, or the figures working away were shaded due to the lighting. Didn¡¯t take us long to reach our destination, and we went through the door, Benny leaning away from his computer to greet us.


    With a nod, he looked over at the row of chairs beside us. ¡°Morning gang, you¡¯ll need to wait a few minutes as Miss Horton-ko is in a call.¡±


    [Not an issue. How are you today, Benny?]


    I gestured for the two women to sit, but remained standing by myself. Not just because I was on edge, although that was part of the reason. It must have looked as though I was ready to bolt, as the receptionist gave me a sharp-toothed grin.


    ¡°Not as stressed as you, Gunquake-ra. I assure you this meeting will be nothing but pleasant, not half because Miss Horton-ko can¡¯t stop talking about you.¡±


    My gaze went over to the two seated women, both now narrowing their eyes at me. I tried to decide whether having all three of us present was a good thing, or detrimental to my longevity.


    ¡°If I¡¯m not here when you get out¡­¡± Benny rubbed at one of the small horns jutting from his head. ¡°Then I¡¯ve just gone for my lunch break. I have a meeting with an indie publisher, so if anything, my stress is more valid.¡±


    [Oh? For your¡­ works of fiction? Is Stacy aware?]


    He nodded. ¡°Of course, Miss Horton-ka is one of my beta readers.¡± The receptionist¡¯s grin turned a little more sheepish as he glanced toward his monitor. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve got what it takes, but she always tells me to try. ¡®A creative mind shouldn¡¯t be left idle¡¯.¡± Benny¡¯s diamond eyes rolled.


    If that was the case, the reason he hid his screen last time wasn¡¯t because Stacy wouldn¡¯t approve - it was more likely that he was supposed to hide it from her clients, at least. The fact that he was being more open with it now was due to the slight indication I had given our manager that I was clued in to the world of romance and erotic literature.


    [For what it¡¯s worth, Benny, good luck with your meeting.]


    ¡°I always appreciate some earnest encouragement, Gunquake-ra.¡± His eyes looked up to the left briefly. ¡°Miss Horton-ko will see you now.¡±


    After the other two stood up and gave their thanks and well-wishes to the young man, I pushed open the door to lead us through. Immediately, I winced at seeing our manager, who looked way too energetic compared to the start of our previous meeting. Vibrant, I was almost willing to say.


    ¡°Welcome, you three,¡± she said with a soft smile, her eyes mostly on me.


    [Stacy. I like what you¡¯ve done with your hair.]


    ¡°Oh? Thank you.¡± The woman smiled further and ran a hand through it. ¡°It¡¯s nothing, really, but you¡¯re the first to notice.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    It wasn¡¯t exactly a drastic change. Styled with a little more effort that made it seem actually alive, but I could at least appreciate the intent. The living radiator sitting to my left probably didn¡¯t see it the same way.


    [I apologize if we were late. I was engaged with some very¡­ vigorous and intense training, and it took me a while to wash down after. That and the brooding.]


    The situation briefly amused me, as I felt not only was this more dangerous than the mutant siege, but it was also entirely of my own making. It was like I couldn¡¯t help it.


    ¡°No, you¡¯re fine. It¡¯s not as though I expect you to bark when I say the word.¡± Her eyes lingered on me before looking over at the super. ¡°Thank you for attending, Rockslide. I know this doesn¡¯t directly concern you, but until Gunquake has been officiated, you¡¯ll have to chaperone him.¡±


    Roxy nodded. ¡°I do my best to keep him out of trouble.¡±


    ¡°It looks as though that extra responsibility is paying dividends for your own professional life. I look forward to being able to give you work again - doubly so once the team is ready. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all aware of your current standings.¡±


    [That is part of the reason I am so eager to please¡­ the League. The sooner I can prove my worth, the quicker we can put the team back in the spotlight.]


    Stacy leaned back in her chair and steepled her hands together. ¡°Normally, I¡¯d be a little pessimistic about your chances. I¡¯ve already spoken to Rockslide about this, but there is an appetite with the general public for some supers who aren¡¯t the spotless virtuous type. You¡¯ll need the rest of the team on board with any potential rebrand, but I am confident the League will accept the prospect given that all of you have been somewhat¡­ absent as of late.¡±


    I nodded. As much as my goal was to bend Roxy¡¯s team into being my new squad - partly for my own comfort - actually theming our aesthetics and personas toward being anti-heroes was a jump I wasn¡¯t entirely expecting. Even if the others were willing to vouch for me to join them, would they want the rebrand?


    ¡°That leads me on to why I called you in.¡± Stacy relaxed and her eyes went between the computer and us. ¡°Unfortunately, I have some good news and some bad news. I would have told you sooner, but I wanted you to come in anyway. The mission is no longer tonight.¡±


    [Is that the good or bad news?]


    ¡°The bad.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°The good news is that the mission is more of a fluff piece. Although the League assured me this was a B-Rank task, the reason isn¡¯t due to the difficulty. They are fishing for more footage of you for the media. While your work at the hobgoblin outpost was exemplary, it was mostly out of sight. They want you to do something in clear view of the various ¡®security cameras¡¯ in the intended area.¡±


    Her use of air quotes made it clear that there would be plenty of eyes on me aside from whatever general observation the public received. The footage would probably be made to look like it was taken ad-hoc by security cams and the like. A mysterious new force dealing out justice in the darkness. Build up the mystique around me before the grand reveal. I understood it, even if it left a bad taste in my lack of mouth.


    [A villain?]


    Stacy shook her head. ¡°A criminal group led by someone with Advanced powers. It shouldn¡¯t be a difficult fight, but you¡¯re there to make a show of it. As they are known in some circles, it shows off the power of the League to settle these issues, as well as making you look good for your debut.¡±


    Sounded reasonable enough. We had to grease the wheels of public perception to make our ascent up the rankings smoother. It wasn¡¯t just power, but how popular and marketable we were. I raised an eyebrow to Roxy on my left.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get missions like this occasionally,¡± the super confirmed. ¡°Stakes are usually lower in terms of combat, but if you waste the opportunity by fucking it up, the League will be pissed.¡±


    Our manager winced slightly at the phrasing, but otherwise seemed to agree.


    [Fair enough. Will it still be at nighttime?]


    ¡°Correct.¡± Stacy tapped her keyboard and looked at her screen. ¡°Not only because it suits your intended role, but the smugglers also mostly operate in the dark.¡±


    [Oh, smugglers?]


    ¡°Indeed. Some miscreant that goes by the name of Snake.¡±


    While Clara had been silent for the entirety of the meeting, I could almost audibly hear her tense up at this revelation. I managed to nod politely and not signal any acknowledgement that this name was familiar. Thankfully, Stacy was busy being focused on me to notice the techie squirm slightly.


    [So I am to¡­ arrest this man and his group?]


    ¡°Subdue and restrain, yes. The League will supply you with extra less-than-lethal rounds and the zip ties if you require.¡± The manager ran her eyes down my gun-arm.


    [I will assume that any fatalities or escapees would be a blight on my record?]


    Stacy rolled her tongue around in her mouth and nodded toward the super. ¡°As Rockslide said, it will be slightly worse than that. You would at least tank your chances at being B-Rank, if not putting your heroship into question entirely.¡±


    At this stage, another nod was all I could manage to save my head from overheating and spilling out from all the things we¡¯d need to consider. I tried not to even think, just in case my thoughts were too loud.


    ¡°They were meant to be completing a deal tonight, but they seem to have gotten cold feet. We¡¯re just waiting for League intel to confirm for when it has been rearranged, so I¡¯d suggest you and Clara be ready and available every evening going forward just in case you¡¯re called to action.¡±


    [Sure, we will have no issue with that.]


    Clara nodded, but hadn¡¯t found her voice just yet. It might cut into her education slightly if she¡¯d need to be home and prepared before an evening mission, but she was usually home long before then.


    ¡°Fantastic. The League have said they¡¯ll do your full mission debriefing at the same time as the rest of your trials. Not¡­ usual, but that seems to be a common trend with you.¡± She tilted her head and gave me an amused smile. ¡°Unless you have any questions, that is all I have to inform you.¡±


    [Hmm. I had been expecting something more dangerous, but it makes sense that the League wouldn¡¯t want to put an unknown against a villain. I¡¯m worth more as an alive C-Rank than a dead potential B.]


    ¡°That kind of thinking will keep you ahead. Even as a C-Rank, you¡¯ll have the chance to rise up should you keep impressing the League.¡± She glanced at Roxy before looking back at me. ¡°It might seem as though you¡¯re just a marketing asset at times, but your strength and the safety you help provide the city are appreciated.¡±


    I told her I understood, and the meeting finished circling the drain. No questions we cared to ask of her. While we said our goodbyes and thanked her for the information, I was eager to get away from here as quickly as possible. Benny was absent when we emerged, but we said no word or even made eye contact with each other until we had walked back to the van.


    No dew on the grass anymore. Despite my mind whirring with different thoughts, I still made note of that.


    All in. Door closed. Roxy wasn¡¯t quite on the same page, but could tell something was up with us two.


    Locked away from the outside world, Clara finally deflated, leaning her head against the steering wheel. ¡°Fuuuuuuck,¡± she hissed.


    [That certainly makes things awkward.]


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Roxy asked, turning in her seat so that she could look at both of us easier. ¡°This is the punk you went and got that security tech from, right?¡±


    I nodded, and she rolled her eyes.


    ¡°Not only that,¡± the techie continued, her eyes now closed. ¡°I know the reason why they canceled their planned trade tonight.¡±


    [I had a feeling you were going to say that.]


    ¡°The reason¡­ is that I asked them to cancel because the League wanted us in for a mission instead.¡± She sighed again.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait.¡± The super rubbed at the bridge of her nose. ¡°You¡¯re telling me you were going to be the other party in this deal we have to bust? For fuck¡¯s sake.¡±


    Although I hadn¡¯t been aware that Clara had arranged for us to meet Snake again, it had been our intention to have this illegal ally to provide us some harder to find technology. Now that the League wanted us to get him arrested, it not only caused issues with our future trading, but the man could rat us out to the League.


    [We¡¯ll need to find a solution that makes all parties happy.]


    The super wasn¡¯t having it, a scowl now clouding her expression. ¡°This is why we don¡¯t do illegal shit, Dubs. Tripping hazards. The League is watching this guy now, so you couldn¡¯t even kill him before the mission. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll be able to flirt your way out of this one.¡±


    [I could certainly try, though.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°You¡¯ve already got today to make up to me already.¡±


    Clara removed her head from the steering wheel and looked out the front. ¡°Perhaps we can sit down at home later, have a discussion about how to un-stick ourselves from this problem I have gotten us into.¡± She tilted her head to look back at me. ¡°I do apologize to you both.¡±


    [There is no problem the three of us cannot overcome together.]


    ¡°I almost believe you, Gunquake.¡± She smiled, before catching the glare of the super. ¡°Aren¡¯t you feeling a little reassured by his words, sister?¡±


    ¡°Not his words, no.¡± Roxy eyed up me up. ¡°I am acting calmer than I usually would in such a fucked up situation, and I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s not just because this dangerous criminal has my heart.¡±


    I changed the subject, not ready to have this conversation yet.


    [What is everyone¡¯s plan now? I have some ideas now that our evening is free.]


    ¡°I¡¯d like to go back to Dr Jarl and get some of my work finished. If I drive you back home, that might not be optimal, however.¡± Clara shrugged.


    The super raised an eyebrow. ¡°What are your ideas, Dubs?¡±


    [I need a new vehicle.]


    ¡°Do you have a driving license?¡±


    I paused, for the first time in a while, feeling rather foolish. Of course, I hadn¡¯t needed it as a shadowy hitman. Those sorts of laws had no bearing on my life. But now¡­


    [Probably a good idea to get one before I try purchasing anything.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes again. ¡°Clara, get this man sorted with a driving test and whatever else he needs. The League should be able to smooth over some of the bumps, like you not having a legal name, and your arm being a lethal weapon.¡±


    [Not just my arm.]


    She opened her mouth and closed it before shaking her head. ¡°We¡¯re going to have words later. Ones that you might not like.¡±


    It sounded like she was threatening me with a good time, but that could just be because my head was stuffed full with other thoughts. I made the decision not to vocalize any further flirting towards the woman capable of turning into molten lava. Perhaps one of my smartest ideas of the day.


    [If you could at least drop me near a dealership, I can do some window shopping?]


    ¡°Acceptable.¡± Roxy shrugged. ¡°As much as I¡¯d like to join you, we can¡¯t really be seen in public like that just yet.¡± Her brow furrowed, some actual disappointment behind her statement.


    Stacy would probably be annoyed when it came out that the super and I were in a relationship. I was slowly learning that I shouldn¡¯t be building towers out of lies. Well, I would put off any actual lesson understood until I actually took the gut punch required.


    [I¡¯ll make my own way back, or perhaps I could swing by Dr Jarl¡¯s after for a lift?]


    Clara shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think either of you realize that Gunquake looks like¡­ well, a villain. Certainly not someone who would just be walking around the city.¡±


    [I think I could handle it. Become a mysterious unknown before my hero reveal.]


    The techie raised an eyebrow to Roxy, who tilted her head from side to side in thought, before agreeing with me.


    ¡°Stacy would have told you if you weren¡¯t allowed to be out and about,¡± the super clarified. ¡°It¡¯s a good idea not to get in trouble, Dubs. If that¡¯s even possible for you. But just being seen can¡¯t be a bad thing, as I¡¯m sure you can sweet talk your way out of any problems.¡±


    [That¡¯s why I love you, Roxy. You always say the nicest things about me.]


    Her eyes narrowed. ¡°Prick. Nice try. I love you too, though. I¡¯m just going to head home and work out some more. Need to get through this added stress you¡¯ve both given me.¡± She turned her glare between us - adding a pointed finger to make sure we knew how terrible we both were.


    And with that, she popped open the van door and stepped out, closing it before leaping off towards our home.


    ¡°I won¡¯t lie, Gunquake¡­¡± Clara turned almost fully around so that she look at me while we talked. ¡°I feel as though I have made a real mess of things.¡±


    [Are you worried?]


    She nodded, the evidence clear on her face.


    [It won¡¯t be easy Clara, but we will surpass this, and then grow complacent again. Every win will make getting into danger less of a big deal, but as long as we continue to get stronger and more competent, we will never be found lacking.]


    The techie smiled and shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re a real menace with that mouth, Gunquake. I will tell you why I contacted Snake¡­ but it will be later, while we are all together at home - is that okay?¡±


    [Of course. I trust your reasoning.]


    ¡°Excellent. That¡¯s how I get away with so much.¡± She turned back in the chair and started up the van. ¡°So where are we off to - motorbikes, cars, or something more exotic?¡±


    I looked up in my lense to my messages.


    [No. I¡¯m not actually going to look for vehicles.]

 80 - Disbelief

    I waved the van off as it left me. Although Clara had been suspicious of my secret change of plan to begin with, she trusted me. Didn¡¯t stop her from making some casual threats, but I was growing used to them. I turned away from the disappearing vehicle to look at the apartment complex beside me.


    It wasn¡¯t exactly what I had been expecting.


    There was a slight element of drabness to them, but they looked well maintained. Most of the windows from this angle were curtained or had blinds up, not quite dark enough for lights to be switched on. The brickwork was smooth and had a slight off-white tone to it. Intentional, rather than from wear and tear. Detailed sections under each window were a darker brown, but were only on the first five floors. The top three were just plain.


    I approached the metal gate and ran my hand down the list of names. Pressed the button and an amber light switched to green. Gate clunked as it unlocked, and I pushed my way inside.


    Interior lobby was small and dimly lit. The desk on the left side told me that sometimes there would be someone sitting there - perhaps a manager or maintenance person. Currently vacant. Over to the right was an elevator, but I¡¯d had enough of those for one week, so took the stairs ahead. It was just three floors, after all, and today was cardio day.


    Stairwell was better lit than the lobby and had a quietness to it that I hadn¡¯t expected. Maybe because I was used to the seedier side of the city that my views of these kinds of places had the hue with gangs and criminals. There were no barking dogs, loud music, graffiti, or the stench of people marking their territory in other ways. It was¡­ pleasant, in a very sterile way.


    Once I was up to the third floor, I pushed through a wooden door into a long corridor. This area was carpeted with burgundy - a contrast to the lighter walls. Each door was a dark wood, adorned with a silver number on the front just above peep holes. I continued on down this way, feeling only slightly like I was in a weird horror movie. Ah, that was it, the apartment scene from the gunslinger flick we watched the other day.


    I stopped and turned, having arrived at my destination. As I raised my hand to knock, the door unlatched, and it pulled open in anticipation of my arrival.


    [Hello, Belle.]


    The woman paused, looking me up and down before opening the door wider. ¡°Gunquake, you¡¯re¡­ quite the sight these days. Please, come in.¡±


    I was slightly taken aback as I stepped into her apartment. Partly because she was not in her outfit of flowing robes, but just a peach colored hooded top and black leggings. Her pink hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she was barefoot. The usual pomp and airs she put seemed totally absent.


    The other reason I was surprised was how¡­ muted and simple her apartment was. With the League providing housing and amenities for their heroes, I expected something larger. The porch directly inside had a couple of plain coats and boots hanging up, a doorway to the left immediately opening up into her lounge.


    Sparsely furnished in a way that reminded me of Roxy¡¯s house, although rather than a rustic theme, there was a comfortable cream hue to everything. Cozy, in a word. Two small couches sat opposite a round coffee table of deep brown lacquered wood. There was a trio of small photo frames across the top of the mantle of an unlit fireplace, but the lower lighting made it difficult to determine who was in them.


    ¡°Please take a seat.¡± She gestured towards a couch. ¡°I¡¯d offer you a coffee or something, but I know you can¡¯t partake. Shame, as I baked a cake recently that needs finishing.¡± With a half-shrug, she left through a doorway that led to the kitchen.


    I went and sat down. The support super seemed muted, without her usual fervor. Even the messages we had exchanged didn¡¯t have the buzz of her faith or a potential desire to ¡®punish¡¯ me, as she alluded to previously. If it weren¡¯t for the pink hair, it felt as though I had entered the wrong apartment entirely.


    It was barely a minute later that she walked back through, a mug of steaming coffee in one hand and a slice of cake on a plate in the other. She placed them down in front of her on the short table before sitting on the couch opposite to me.


    I had gone over Wren¡¯s notes beforehand to prepare myself for what I¡¯d be up against. But I was at a loss with how normal this was turning out to be. Had me off-kilter for a change.


    ¡°Ren mentioned you¡¯d had a glow-up.¡± Belle tilted her head. ¡°Also, that I should expect a visit from you.¡±


    [If anything, I apologize for leaving you for last.]


    ¡°There¡¯s no need for platitudes. I was surprised to hear you and Roxy were shacking up, but now that you¡¯ve had a clean, it¡¯s more understandable.¡± She picked up the plate from the table. ¡°To some degree, anyway.¡±


    [I¡¯ll be frank with you, Belle. I am looking for your commendation so that I can join the team.]


    ¡°Okay. You have it.¡± With a silver fork, she scooped part of the cake off into her mouth.


    [Oh. I had expected a little more to it than that.]


    Belle shook her head. ¡°Team needs a fifth, and you actually want the job. If the League is giving you the chance, then that¡¯s the simple solution to our problem.¡±


    I nodded slowly. It wasn¡¯t often I felt this out of sorts. If it was going to be this straightforward, I should have come to her first. That said, I wasn¡¯t entirely convinced. She was too far divorced from the holier-than-thou person I had met at the housewarming party.


    [You have no reservations or stipulations.]


    ¡°Nope." She placed her plate down to retrieve the coffee instead. ¡°Although if I had asked you to bark like a dog, would you have?¡±


    [Unlikely.]


    ¡°Then where¡¯s the fun?¡± She maintained eye contact as she took a sip, although there wasn¡¯t a lack of humor in her tone. ¡°I am aware of your aura, are you?¡±


    I shuffled in the seat. It seemed as though she had some manner of magic detection, which made plenty of sense, seeing as she was an experienced caster herself.


    [Only recently have I come to acknowledge the passive effects I give off. I calm the emotions of those around me.]


    ¡°It is not active by intent, then?¡± Belle raised an eyebrow. ¡°You may not know this, but it doesn¡¯t affect me. You¡¯ll have to win me over the hard way.¡±


    [After you¡¯ve already given me the commendation.]


    ¡°Of course.¡± She took another sip. ¡°I¡¯m sure the others have extolled the virtues of trust with a team. Anyone can tag along and get by, but if you want us to be efficient, we need to know each other really well. I¡¯m sure you have plenty of questions for me.¡±


    Where to begin?


    [You¡¯re much different from when we first met.]


    ¡°That is not a question, but the reasoning is simple. This is the only place in the city I can truly be myself, away from His influence, or the eyes and ears of the League and general public.¡± She cradled the mug in her hands. ¡°There is a reason why I wanted to meet you here.¡±


    [Your belief in ¡®Him¡¯ is a part of the character you have to put on as a hero.]


    Her eyes wandered off to above me, as if she was considering this. ¡°My belief in Him is real, although it is played up to a distasteful degree in the outer world. I am something of a beacon for his followers in Goldarch, so must lead the flock to the standard expected of me.¡±


    [Not by the League¡¯s expectations, though. Your financier.]


    ¡°Correct.¡± She looked back at me. ¡°I assume that Ren gave you some information so that you¡¯re not totally in the dark. There are plenty of rumors about my group¡­¡±


    [That you¡¯re a sex cult.]


    Although her face soured, she gave a brief nod. ¡°Neither word is an apt descriptor. There is a peaceful element of free love He embodies, but it is more of a polyamorous cluster thing. Optional, and often more about companionship than sex.¡±


    [Yet there was your offer of ¡®punishing¡¯ me.]


    ¡°Had I known you and Roxy were more than cordial, I would have never been so forward. I respect boundaries more than anything.¡± She took a sip from the drink. ¡°You looked like a lost sheep, and my vocation still allows me to have my own fun.¡±


    Belle gave me a coy smile, perhaps the most confident she had appeared since our meeting begun. If she was immune to my purported aura, I wondered if it was just my natural charisma that worked on her. Did I even have that, or was that just some magic I apparently held as well? How much of a fraud was I? Rather than circle these thoughts, I changed direction.


    [The notes I received didn¡¯t mention who ¡®He¡¯ actually was.]


    ¡°There is a reason why every question you have asked has instead been leveled as a statement, isn¡¯t there?¡± The smile went away, and she narrowed her eyes at me. ¡°Either there is something you do know, or you¡¯re much more perceptive than you appear, even if passively.¡±


    [Let¡¯s assume it¡¯s the latter.]


    She rolled her eyes. ¡°Ren warned me about you, but I had to see it for myself. A cyborg with magical powers, a silver tongue, and an unnerving connection to things that lie in the shadows. Tell me, Dubs, do you know much of the fey?¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    I tilted my head from side to side, in hopes I could shake out some of my old-life memories. There wasn¡¯t much that had filtered into my brain in the last five years. Eventually, I shook my head.


    ¡°It is said to be the lost land of the first elves. A different plane home to fairies, sprites, and other similar ancestries. The elves who weren¡¯t kicked out were few and eventually became the fey - closer to demi-gods than any mortal.¡±


    [So ¡®He¡¯ is one of these fey.]


    She nodded. ¡°I am unable to speak his name, even here. Usually, they are not to be trusted. Tricksters who meddle without a care when they do occasionally glance towards our world. But He is the kindest of those that remain and seeks to bring the feyland¡¯s boons to the rest of Othea.¡±


    No matter how well-intentioned that sounded, it couldn''t be a good thing. I was starting to edge toward this being more of a cult again.


    [Your flock must have a lot of elves then.]


    Belle shook her head. ¡°That view of elven origin is mostly disputed, and few these days believe the tale except for a sect or two of High elves. Some even see it as offensive, although Ren accepts what I am doing is valid to some degree.¡± She furrowed her brow, as if considering if that was true.


    [Tell me about your financier.]


    Her mouth opened and closed, before she leaned forward to put her cup down. ¡°While I¡¯m sure your magic puts others at ease enough to talk openly with you, we don¡¯t have the rapport for me to bare any secrets just yet. I¡¯m open to friendship, however, if you¡¯re willing to put the effort in.¡±


    [Of course. In fact, that is part of the reason why I¡¯m here. We¡¯re having another party soon, and I wanted to invite you.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± She sat back and crossed her arms. ¡°Just the team again?¡±


    [Correct. We have a dead zone set up so the League can¡¯t spy on us. Might be a little home away from home.]


    Her eyebrows went up, and she was silent for a moment. ¡°Truly? We¡¯d be undetectable?¡±


    [It¡¯s where I bare all my secrets, so I hope so.]


    ¡°It¡¯s not often I get to be myself around the others¡­¡± Belle¡¯s gaze lowered to the table, her brow furrowing slightly. She was silent for another few moments, before looking back up at me, her expression relaxed. ¡°Alright, Dubs. Three out of four heroes can¡¯t be wrong about you. Let me know when to arrive and I¡¯ll be there. It makes me genuinely happy that Roxy has found someone who isn¡¯t an asshole.¡±


    [Oh, I¡¯m an asshole. Just only to those who cross me or those I care about.]


    She gave me a soft smile. ¡°Well, I¡¯d best make sure I¡¯m on the right side of that line, then. We¡¯ll talk more soon, Dubs, but I need to get to work soon. Meetings and evangelizing.¡±


    I nodded and stood from the chair.


    [Of course, thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I did have one actual question for you, before I leave.]


    ¡°Be my guest.¡± She stood and gestured for me to go ahead.


    [May I take some of the cake to go? I have a canister synthesizer, so I can eat it in some manner.]


    After a brief moment of confusion, she smiled again. ¡°Only if you let me know what you think. It¡¯s an old family recipe, but I haven¡¯t yet perfected it.¡±


    It was only a few minutes later before I was standing back out on the sidewalk, a small plastic tub in my hand holding the prized treat. I was sure I looked quite the sight already without transporting the cake, but without knowing how the meeting was going to go, I hadn¡¯t planned much for after.


    So, I started walking.


    Belle had certainly surprised me. Perhaps the most difficult to crack, if you ignored how I earned my metal ribcage. She had given the commendation easily, but that was just business. The fact that my emotion-calming aura didn¡¯t affect her meant that she was my foil in some ways. Wren still held some secrets from me, but the others had been open books. The supportive super would just be a slower process to gain her trust, but she was at least receptive.


    //Dubs: How soon do you want to do the garden party?


    //Roxy: Whenever, really. Would be good to get our minds off of work.


    //Roxy: As soon as you¡¯ve spoken to Belle and convinced her?


    //Dubs: Consider it done. Is tomorrow good?


    //Roxy: What? When? Did you just talk to her now?


    //Dubs: It was on the way to my window shopping. She will vouch for me to join the team.


    //Roxy: ¡­


    //Roxy: That¡¯s great but¡­ dare I ask?


    //Dubs: All I had to do was pledge my life to Him.


    //Roxy: ¡­


    //Roxy: I¡¯m not sure where you get off on winding me up.


    //Roxy: Clearly you need me to be break more of you, fucker.


    //Dubs: Look forward to it. See you soon.


    //Roxy: Fuckerrrrr x


    Clara didn¡¯t want me to disturb her while she was working. Something about having her pet project cyborg turn up and sit around while she was busy seemed to put her on edge. She still had rapport to build with the doctor before introducing me.


    Given that I wanted a vehicle that could uphold a certain standard of protection and offensive capabilities, I had no intention of going to any regular dealership for civilian transport. Against better judgement, I managed to squeeze my tub of cake into one of my belt pouches.


    I brought up my lense and decided how much trouble I wanted to get into today.


    <hr>


    While the look on Roxy¡¯s face as I arrived back home should have given me cause for concern, I felt reasonably good about my decision making skills.


    I parked up beside the covered coffin on my yard, heavy wheels crunching through the thin glassed dust from the super¡¯s previous training. Switched it off and hopped out the side.


    ¡°I am starting to believe meeting you was a mistake.¡± She stood just outside of the grass garden, hands on her hips as she glared at me.


    [I got a good deal on it.]


    ¡°Motherfucker, you stole that from a gang.¡±


    She had me there. They had been eager to give up the vehicle once I had hit them with a couple of Nerve shots from my selectloader. The off-roading truck had a flame paint job, the grill at the front designed to look like a wide set of teeth. Bulletproof, but few other upgrades aside from a ridiculously large sound system in the back.


    It needed a little work doing to get it perfect, but otherwise would make a good transportation for the wastes.


    [The good news is; I¡¯ve named it.]


    ¡°You called it the Quakewagon, didn¡¯t you?¡± Her eyes narrowed further.


    [It¡¯s¡­ bulletproof as well.]


    ¡°Yeah, well¡­¡± She gave me a shrug, clearly too exasperated to admonish me properly. ¡°Unless you¡¯re Roxy proof you better watch yourself, asshole. Come over here and hug me already.¡±


    It seemed like a reasonable request with only a low chance of her punching my head clean off my neck, so I accepted. Stepped over and she sighed as she wrapped her arms around me. Still warm from her training.


    ¡°Pretty ballsy of you to steal a vehicle, even if from criminals. But, I¡¯ve given up on worrying about you getting us in trouble.¡± The super laid her head on my shoulder to rest. ¡°You¡¯ll keep us safe and make everything okay, won¡¯t you?¡±


    [Of course. To the best of my ability. Are you alright?]


    ¡°Who knows?¡± She leaned back so that she could smile at me. ¡°Every day is some new bullshit, but I¡¯m coming around to it. We make things work.¡±


    [About that. You might want to pick our date destination, as I am sure I have a magical aura.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± Roxy tilted her head. ¡°Some kind of danger magnetism?¡±


    [Something that calms people¡¯s emotions, at least.]


    She didn¡¯t respond at first, her fiery eyes just trying to read mine through my goggles. ¡°So¡­ you¡¯ve been brainwashing me this whole time?¡±


    I winced, knowing this would be the reaction. It was part of the reason I had arranged a getaway vehicle. I tried to pick my next words carefully.


    [Not exactly. I don¡¯t know how it works, but¡­ you both have said you feel more relaxed around me.]


    She hadn¡¯t released the partial hug as she leaned back to view me face to face. It would be easy for her to crush me¡­ although perhaps not if my aura was working.


    ¡°I¡­ trust you. I¡¯m not going to jump to conclusions, because I know in my heart you¡¯re honest with me. It¡¯s nice not being a huge bitch all the time. But it would be nice to know that it''s nothing weird?¡± She smiled, but relinquished her grip on me. ¡°You wanna go plan this garden party over a bubble bath? We¡¯ll need to see if the others are free.¡±


    [There¡¯s one thing I want to do first.]


    She followed me into the workshop as I flicked the lights on and went over to the canister machine. Out from my pouch, the wedge of cake had gone mostly unharmed.


    ¡°This from Belle?¡± Roxy took a chunk of it that I offered. ¡°It''s pretty good. What did you make of her? I¡¯m surprised she didn¡¯t melt your ears off.¡±


    [She was surprisingly subdued, actually. Turns out it¡¯s mostly an act when she isn¡¯t at home.]


    I put the rest of the cake into the large tray of the machine, while the super watched me intently.


    ¡°You went to her house? She usually takes visitors at her weird church thing.¡±


    [Sorry for not telling you beforehand, but we have enough worries without you having that playing out on your mind. She¡¯s actually immune to my magic and is very respectful and supportive of our relationship.]


    ¡°Huh.¡± The super pouted and looked off out the window as I finished fiddling with the settings. ¡°She gave you her commendation just like that? That¡¯s a fucking win then.¡±


    [I have a feeling the team is actually eager to get back together and find their footing once more. The party will be our first step towards our new future.]


    Roxy raised an eyebrow at me. ¡°If you were secretly sent here to do just that, you¡¯d tell me, right?¡±


    [You forget that I was here first.]


    She shrugged and glanced at the machine as it started the twenty-minute process. ¡°Fuck me if I know anymore. I¡¯m not so good at the mystery shit. I¡¯ll be much happier when I can go back to punching things.¡± Her hand came up to hold the side of my face. ¡°Clara said she is going to be staying at her apartment tonight as she is working late and needs to pack stuff for the eventual sale, but is up for the party tomorrow. I¡¯m waiting for the others to come back to me.¡±


    [Perfect. I am honestly looking forward to it.]


    ¡°Good. While this machine works, you wanna go earn that bath?¡± Her eyes narrowed as she smiled.


    I said nothing, but she knew my answer without me even needing to.


    <hr>


    The morning after brought with it only partial freshness. We had ignored the elephant in the room. Snake was a problem, and one I hadn¡¯t really had the chance to fully consider. After our evening, we had just spent the time in relaxation, putting all our troubles behind us.


    Today was meant to be more of the same. It was about the team coming together and having a chance to bond again. Start as we meant to go on. Throughout the evening, Roxy had received the confirmation from the other three. Wren was the last to agree, not too enthused about stepping away from the company for a time - but it was happening.


    Clara would be over soon enough with all the food and other necessary things that would be too fragile for Roxy to jump from the city to here. We both agreed it wouldn¡¯t be a good idea for me to roll up into Goldarch in a gang-affiliated vehicle¡­ again. Despite that, I could see a look in her eyes. She wanted to go for a joy ride.


    Sounded a little too dangerous - and she was insistent that I kept my new clothes clean.


    Footwear called loafers. Shorts and t-shirt as usual, but she had gotten me a green zip-up hooded top. I looked casual as fuck. We did have to cut the right arm off of it so that my cybernetics fit through, but it was quite the look despite it being a simple addition. Saving the best for last, she had then handed me a baseball cap.


    I was only vaguely familiar with the sport, although she assured me this particular one had no affiliation to any team. I could have guessed, as the logo on it was something from the zombie movie we watched the other day. Wearing it... I could almost pretend I didn''t have a gas-mask affixed to my lower face. I was just a normal man, called Dubs.


    After being unsure what she wanted to wear herself, I convinced her to go for the summer dress she had worn when we disabled my kill-switch. The yellow one with flowers on it. She was more comfortable around Clara and I, but was a little apprehensive in a wider social situation. Headwear of her own completed the look - a wide-brimmed straw hat. I was enamored.


    From somewhere in the house, she procured a barbeque grill. Even more impressive than that, I told her that I was great at using them, and she believed me. Perhaps I was too powerful.


    ¡°You could do with a gun-arm attachment that is like some¡­ tongs, or a spatula.¡± She shot me a coy smile as she twirled in the grass, her dress spiraling out as she turned.


    [It would surprise me if Clara hadn''t already designed something like that previously.]


    "Oh, speak of the devil." The super stopped in place as gestured out toward the city, shooting me a wide grin.


    I looked past her to see the techie''s van approaching, and I felt¡­


    Like all my troubles were forgotten. Even if only temporarily. I knew that this was just as much for me as it was for the team. Despite the circumstances of my existence, I was living a normal life.


    No immediate danger looming in the shadows. Violence and hardship the last thing on my mind. A distinct absence of Gov officers breathing down my squad''s neck to kill supers. My life as a killer like a bad dream - but even then, I had slept soundly and the day so far had been nothing but pleasant. I felt at ease.


    Nothing was out of place.

 81 - Adventuring Party 2

    Red-hot embers flared and bloomed before my eyes. The darkness emanated a subtle crackling noise as smoke filled my nose, fogging up my mind. My focus waned as if the heat was drawing me in. In the distance, the thundering of a helicopter sounded muted to my ears. I was finding it difficult to breathe, and I started falling into a place of isolation where-


    ¡°You okay, Dubs?¡±


    I blinked and looked up from the grill at the super.


    [Just seeing if it was at the right temperature yet.]


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Tag me if you¡¯re in over your head. This is a joint effort, okay?¡±


    [I will, don¡¯t worry.]


    Roxy smiled. ¡°Good. Looks like the others are on the way, so I¡¯ll go see if Clara is actually getting ready or is distracted.¡±


    I nodded, and she went off into the house. Looking toward the city, Ren¡¯s helicopter was indeed on the way. It had taken me a good ten or so minutes to rewind my mind back and realize that I had thought something new and potentially problematic.


    It was the World Government giving my squad their orders. To what degree, I wasn¡¯t sure. An emergency group if a super ever got out of the League¡¯s control? That might be the most optimistic truth. Despite it clouding up my mind, I tried to let the worries slip away for now. It was time to enjoy good company and anything more dire than that could come later.


    As soon as Clara had arrived home, she had offloaded the shopping onto Roxy, telling me that she had some gifts for me - but only after she had gotten ready. I had assumed that the rappel was ready, but wasn¡¯t sure what else she could mean. Now, to my right, I had empty buns and some hamburger meat ready for grilling up.


    With the helicopter on the way, I was more surprised that Roy wasn¡¯t¡­ oh, there he was. The small cloud of dust rising in his wake bloomed as he got closer. I took a deep breath to ready myself. It couldn¡¯t be any worse than the first attempt at this. At least now everyone was here in earnest.


    Just a handful of seconds later, the speedster slid across my yard, before stumbling forward as he tried to stop - almost dropping his cargo.


    Regaining his composure, he looked up and grinned at me sheepishly. ¡°I guess flip-flops were a bad idea, huh?¡±


    Aside from the inappropriate footwear, he was wearing a bright blue open-collared shirt that had garish pictures of waves and boats printed haphazardly all over it. White shorts, which looked to have collected some dust on his journey here. In one hand was a crate of beer, and the other had a shallow white box.


    [Morning, Roy. It¡¯s good to see you.]


    He stepped up onto the grassy area of our land and placed his items on the table. ¡°You too, Dubs. Every time I see you, it¡¯s like you¡¯re a different person.¡± He looked my current ensemble up and down. ¡°I know you can¡¯t eat, but my ma does the best apple pie this side of Goldarch, so naturally she made two.¡±


    ¡°Well, I can certainly eat.¡± Roxy stepped out from the house and down the porch. ¡°You¡¯re looking less like a rabid badger, Roy.¡±


    The speedster took a step back and raised his eyebrows. ¡°Wow, Rox. Never thought I¡¯d see you in a dress. Next you¡¯ll be in heels, hobnobbing at the gala.¡±


    ¡°Fuck off.¡± She shook her head before glancing over at me. ¡°Although¡­¡±


    [What¡¯s the gala?]


    ¡°Optional League social event,¡± she said, stepping over to the table to check out the alcohol Roy brought. ¡°It¡¯s like a fancy black-tie thing and one of the few times a year you can meet all the supers throughout the city in one place.¡±


    Roy crossed his arms. ¡°I¡¯m the only one of us who goes. Ren is always too busy, and it¡¯s not the sort of scene Belle or Rox likes.¡±


    [I¡¯m open to it.]


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Roxy bit her lip. ¡°You¡¯d look killer in a tux, but¡­ well, one thing at a time, okay?¡±


    I nodded. There wasn¡¯t a particular reason I was signing myself up for something that sounded terrible - and by that point, we¡¯d have to be public with our relationship. Plus, I wasn¡¯t even a hero yet, so that was way too many horses in front of the cart. Something about it just¡­ I liked the idea of seeing her in an elegant dress. Being in all the weak superheroes faces as we rose the ranks with ease.


    Hmm. I shouldn¡¯t be too competitive about this.


    While the two supers discussed the choice of beer provided, I turned my head to see the techie emerge from the house. Denim shorts and a mauve sweater with long sleeves that had a cat¡¯s face printed on it. Her normally shoulder length hair was tied up in bunches on either side of her head.


    After passing a quick hello to the speedster, she came up to me, giving the grill a glance before waiting for me to comment.


    [And I thought my glow-up was impressive.]


    ¡°Oh please, Gunquake.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Roxy said I¡¯d look like a tween brat, but as I often feel I missed out on a proper youth, I am choosing that to be my focus for today. So bring on the alcopops and making out behind the dumpsters.¡± Clara sighed and looked between the other two and the approaching helicopter. ¡°Although, few eligible contenders for that. Can you tell I am nervous?¡±


    [Yes. It will be fine.]


    Roxy tilted away from Roy to scowl at the techie. ¡°You should really wear something on your feet, hun. Some assholes like to leave broken glass on my lawn.¡±


    After amusedly watching the speedster recoil away by reflex, I looked down to see that Clara was indeed barefoot. She had painted her nails alternating green and mauve, to match her eyes and sweater respectively, I assumed.


    [You really put a lot of thought and effort into this.]


    She shrugged. ¡°I am even more of an introvert than you, Gunquake. If I am to be your long-term sidekick, then I will have to actually make friends with these people. It strengthens the both of us.¡±


    [Any time you feel like you¡¯re out of your element, just stick by me, okay?]


    Clara opened her mouth as if to protest the need, but instead closed it and gave me a smile. ¡°I was planning on retreating to the workshop, but rallying to you is just as comforting.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Dubs,¡± Roxy called from the table, ¡°you¡¯re gonna want to try some of this pie. It¡¯s literally the best.¡±


    The techie nudged me. ¡°I¡¯ll go throw some in the canister machine. I could throw in a beer too?¡±


    [Are you trying to lower my inhibitions?]


    She shot me a coy smile as she walked away, her eyes lingering on me. It was a little early in the day for me to be encouraging her, but it put her in her comfort zone. My eyes switched away to the arriving vehicle, now much louder.


    ¡°Come greet our guests, Dubs.¡± Roxy gestured for me to follow her. ¡°I¡¯m sure the grill will survive five minutes without you staring at it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on it, big guy.¡± Roy gave me a nod, and there was no excuse left for me.


    With a shrug, I paired up with the volcanic super and she looped her arm around mine as we stepped down to the end of the garden to wait for the helicopter to land. We both winced at the pulses of air blowing dust toward us before the bird finally settled down and powered off.


    First out was on the passenger side - Belle. Hair tied back again, she wore fuzzy pink leg warmers and a woven poncho. Small round sunglasses sat on her nose, as she glanced around at our surroundings as if expecting paparazzi to be lurking in wait. Given what I now knew about her, that was something close to the truth.


    Ren came out of the pilot¡¯s side. She had dark slacks on, and a red shirt - no jacket or tie, but she had rolled her sleeves up and the top button was undone. For someone who lived and breathed their business, this was perhaps as casual as it got. Her radiant blonde hair hung in a long plait behind her. Most interesting of all was the smile on her face.


    ¡°Roxy wasn¡¯t lying when she said you were a hunk under your outfit,¡± the elf said as she walked over, eyeing me up. ¡°It¡¯s honestly a shocking change.¡±


    Belle lifted up her sunglasses to place on her head, brow furrowed as she looked at me. ¡°Another with bright green eyes, too.¡±


    [With Clara, that makes three of us.]


    The supportive super nodded but tilted her head. ¡°Turn around for me a second, so that this doesn¡¯t look strange.¡±


    I raised my eyebrow and looked at Roxy, but did as asked. Once I was facing away from the pink-haired woman, she put her hand on my back. A few moments later, I heard her exhale through her nose.


    ¡°You motherfucker,¡± she said calmly. ¡°I thought something felt strange yesterday, but out here it is clear.¡±


    [What is it, part of my aura?]


    I turned back around after she removed her hand. There was still part of a scowl on her face, but she seemed more relaxed.


    ¡°Yes. Did you know you had some manner of cloaking?¡±


    [I had been told that I had an aura that disabled technology or prevented cameras and the like from recording me.]


    Belle shook her head. ¡°No. You have protection from divination magic. That means you can¡¯t be magically located or spied on.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    [Oh.]


    I turned my gaze to Roxy, who looked just as unsure as to what to do with that information as I was. It turned out I was more in the dark about things than I had realized, and more questions were bound to follow.


    ¡°This means¡­¡± the hero continued, ¡°that He can¡¯t see me here. That makes you my new best friend, Dubs.¡± Belle smiled and gave us both a brief curtsy with her poncho, as if introducing herself again. ¡°I didn¡¯t bring a housewarming gift, but I will be an open book about everything magical with you - as I can tell that your mind is hungry for it. Perhaps after some hard liquor.¡±


    ¡°Help yourself in the kitchen,¡± Roxy said, and jerked her finger back. ¡°We weren¡¯t expecting gifts. This was just a social thing.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Ren interjected as Belle walked off. ¡°The one the League forced on us was a little fucky, so let us do this properly now. As friends, rather than coworkers.¡±


    Roxy pouted, and both women stepped forward to give each other a hug. ¡°I missed you guys. I¡¯m sorry for being such a useless bitch.¡±


    ¡°We all dropped the ball. But now, we¡¯ll come back stronger.¡± Ren smiled as they pulled away. ¡°And you look stunning, by the way. Seeing you bounce back honestly brings me joy.¡±


    With a shrug, Roxy gestured to me. ¡°You can thank this murder machine. Without Dubs or Clara, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to unlock my potential.¡±


    ¡°Is that so? Well, we have plenty of time for stories today, but here - let me give you my housewarming gift.¡± From her back pocket, the elf withdrew a tube and handed it over to the super.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Roxy asked, eyebrow raised.


    ¡°Title and deeds for the surrounding land here. Technically, it¡¯s legally under the team¡¯s purview as Dubs doesn¡¯t have any real name I could find, but we¡¯re happy to leave it for you two.¡± Ren crossed her arms and grinned. ¡°It means you can build on here as you see fit and Goldarch won¡¯t grumble. I¡¯d suggest putting in a helipad first so that I don¡¯t scratch my bird up when I visit.¡±


    The strength super opened and closed her mouth, trying to chew through what we had just been given. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ thinking that long term we could¡­ build a command center?¡±


    [Like a home base for our group?]


    Ren nodded. ¡°If our team hits A-Rank, the League will even help get it set up, but yeah. We¡¯d have our own little commune. A big table we could sit around and discuss missions. Whatever you wanted, really.¡±


    Roxy once again gave the elf a hug.


    Although at first it sounded like a pipe dream, things were already progressing to that eventuality. The fact that Ren had done this probably meant that she was serious about the team getting back together and excelling. That could only mean she had decided to utilize her artefact properly as well. Perfect.


    She bowed out and went over to say hello to Roy, as Roxy brought me in beside her.


    ¡°Look at all this, Dubs,¡± she hissed, unable to hide her wide smile.


    I couldn¡¯t help but share her mood.


    Roy had been instigative and rude at the first party, and now he had managed to cut loose his connections to the darker side of things. Belle had held her nose high and groused about the quality of our water supply. In her more bohemian attire and hand clutched onto a bottle of rum, she was nothing like her more evangelizing persona. Ren hadn¡¯t looked at her phone once, despite being distracted and unable to focus on anything but her business last time.


    Even Roxy, who had been sour on the League¡¯s requirements, was now calmer and more confident. She had woken me up, begging for my help - and I had stepped up. Even if most of that day was the machination of the higher ups at the League to squeeze something out of me¡­ what we had today was real. Still, early days, I was sure.


    But as Clara emerged from the workshop with my apple pie and beer canister, any worries I had about the social gathering had evaporated entirely.


    The techie was grumpy at first in finding out that Belle could detect that I did indeed have a magical aura, and that obtaining the device had been a waste of time. I prodded her about my other gifts until she relented.


    First up was my rappel. Something surprisingly slimline that would affix to my gauntlet on my left arm. Rather than a hook or spike, it used the expanding foam substance to attach places. It came with a button that she could patch into my synapses, able to eject the antidote substance at the end to melt away the foam once I was done and needed to retract it. Sixty feet of thin but strong wire, and the potential for it to be upgraded to a grappling device once she worked out a functional launcher.


    If that wasn¡¯t enough, she almost brought forth a new magazine type. She prefaced the delivery by saying that I might not be able to play the lute, but as a bard needed an instrument, perhaps a drum might have to do. She then presented the modified drum magazine. I was probably the only one who appreciated the pun, given that most of them didn¡¯t know the full details of my past.


    Much like my other drum, this one differed in that the internals that didn¡¯t look like it would fit cartridges. Instead, she presented a rather heavy crate that Roxy had to move from the van and over to the workshop. Popping the lid open, I was greeted by potentially hundreds of small spheres of polished chrome. Solid steel, the techie had assured me. The perfect size to fit down my barrel, and the drum magazine could hold twenty of them.


    With everyone a couple of drinks down before we had started eating, they were eager for me to give the new ammunition a test drive. After double checking that they could fit in my sideloader still - which they could - I palmed one into the open chamber on the side. The full drum had some weight to it, and while I only had a slight buzz, I didn¡¯t want to accidentally blow a hole through anything.


    Overcharge spooled up, readying potential energy behind the shot as I aimed out to the wastes at a cluster of tall rocks. With a thought, it powered out with a satisfying thonk, zipping outside our area of control and striking the dry rock. A cloud of dust burst around it as the top section cracked and dropped off - everyone cheering at the sight.


    Naturally, the others then goaded Roxy into showing them her new powers. After cussing them out for potentially ruining her dress, she eventually gave in. She had wanted to show off all along, of course. There was no hiding the pride and excitement in her eyes, at least to me. So she went off into my yard and powered up, turning her arms into lava up to her elbows, before cooling off. The super shook the dried stone from her arms and gave the others a bow as they clapped.


    As Roxy went up to Ren and the speedster to discuss the intricacies of the power, Belle brought her chair over to sit with Clara and I.


    ¡°This information might be important for you too, Clara,¡± she said, ¡°if you¡¯re to be Dubs¡¯ sidekick. ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s strange, because I didn¡¯t feel any magic on you the last times we met.¡±


    ¡°You could say that Gunquake had his own potential awakening recently, too.¡± Clara pulled a face at the potential magic-talk, but was held in place knowing that she was my sidekick - and that might be worth the pain.


    ¡°I see. Magic is a funny thing. You probably haven¡¯t heard of the SOSSN?¡±


    I shook my head.


    Belle smiled. ¡°Standard Othean Simplified Spell Naming. Magic can come from many sources. Granted or borrowed from other powerful entities, arcane symbols, runes, innately known, learned through ancient means, bestowed by artefacts¡­ you get the idea. The SOSSN gives similar-enough spells the same name, otherwise you¡¯d have one hundred different names in different languages for a simple healing spell.¡±


    [And I¡¯m assuming you can tell what spell, but not the source.]


    She narrowed her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re smarter than you look, Dubs. I need to stop underestimating you.¡± The spellcaster took a swig of her drink and nodded. ¡°A magic user more proficient in Detect Magic would be able to tell you how the spells are cast. Spells usually have a lesser and greater tier - Greater Detect Magic is what we are talking about. I have the mid-tier of it, and the lower version would only know that magic was happening, like Clara¡¯s little box.¡±


    The techie pouted at the device she had gotten being relegated to being a minor spell version.


    [Until recently I didn¡¯t know I had the magic auras, so I do not believe it is something I am casting myself.]


    ¡°Possibly not.¡± Belle¡¯s eyes were reading my own. ¡°You only have the lesser variants, as an aura is difficult to hold up - especially if you are doing it constantly.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t there some exchange of energy?¡± Clara asked, sliding her way into being invested in the conversation. ¡°To uphold a spell, isn¡¯t there usually a cost?¡±


    ¡°Correct. If Dubs is not casting these himself, then the spells would have been set by whomever or whatever gave him this power. Spells that don¡¯t directly take from ¡®mana¡¯ often have other costs or side effects.¡± She lifted up the half-empty bottle of rum and wagged it at us. ¡°My power comes from Him, and one of the downsides is I have an absurdly high alcohol tolerance.¡±


    [That doesn¡¯t seem so bad.]


    ¡°Only in terms of getting drunk. Three of these bottles and my organs won¡¯t be having a good time, however.¡± She gave us a glum smile. ¡°It might be worth finding out your magic source, so you can be sure you¡¯re not draining your soul away or slowly becoming the host for an eldritch god.¡±


    [Magic is a funny thing, you were right.]


    Clara pulled a face at my statement. ¡°Can you tell us what spells Gunquake has in his aura?¡±


    [Also, I seem to be able to go into a meditative trance that heals my wounds at greater speed.]


    Belle puckered her lips, before putting her bottle on the table. ¡°That might not be magic, it would be difficult to say, but here - give me your hand.¡±


    I held my left out, and she held it in between hers like a sandwich. The spellcaster took a deep breath and closed her eyes. ¡°Try to focus on¡­ whatever you feel is a focal point for your magic. Even just being calm can help.¡±


    My own eyes closed as I tried to scour my internal thoughts for¡­ something I could grasp onto. As if my magical powers were sourced by a tangible thing.


    ¡°Is it a bad thing I get a worse vibe from your left hand compared to the one that is a literal gun?¡± she asked.


    ¡°What kind of bad vibe?¡± Clara asked from beside me.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Her hands shifted slightly, as if seeking a better picture. ¡°There is a great deal of strength and care here. Loving and protective. But¡­ there¡¯s background noise. Lots of pain. Death. I feel as though I am focusing on the beauty of a puddle while the storm clouds swirl overhead.¡±


    [I didn¡¯t realize I signed up for a palm reading.]


    I opened my eyes to see that Belle was also now looking up at me.


    ¡°Like I said before, Dubs. Trust will be harder to earn with me. I am just looking out for the safety of myself and my friends.¡±


    ¡°Gunquake isn¡¯t dangerous-¡± Clara began, before I shook my head.


    [I trust you, Belle. I died once. In that old life I wasn¡¯t a good person. This life¡­ I also haven''t been a good person before meeting Roxy. I¡¯m trying to find redemption, even if I am undeserving.]


    She continued to look into my eyes for a few moments before giving me a nod. ¡°I am not the morality police. Salvation is a personal thing, but I believe your intentions are true. Regardless of your prior existence¡­¡± Belle looked over to where Roxy and Ren were laughing over something the speedster had said. ¡°I will not be the one to cast judgement on you.¡±


    [Thank you. Were you able to sense my spells, though?]


    ¡°Oh.¡± She released the grip of my hand and picked her bottled back up. ¡°I didn¡¯t need to do that to sense your spells. I¡¯m just the bitch that¡¯s going to keep you in check while the others fawn over you.¡± The spellcaster shot me a wink as she raised the bottle to her lips. ¡°You have the lesser versions of Calm Emotions, Detect Magic, Divination Protection, and Incite Violence.¡±


    [Incite Violence? That sounds like it clashes with Calm Emotions.]


    ¡°Think of it like a taunt that causes your opponent to become more reckless when they attack you. Not something that is usually a passive aura, so that¡¯s unique.¡± Belle furrowed her brow.


    ¡°At least we know your other abilities are more natural, Gunquake.¡± Clara still looked a little sour over the facet of me, but she was right.


    I was a weird mixture of all things. Magic, being Advanced, cybernetics, my synapse boosts, and now whatever tech Clara could fit on me. Despite this overabundance, it¡¯s what I needed to keep up with those with actual super powers. If I wanted to stand side by side with this group and pull my weight¡ªand survive¡ªI needed to grasp at everything that I could.


    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you with this one last thought,¡± Belle said, standing from her chair and taking a swig of rum. ¡°Calm Emotions has diminishing returns. If you¡¯re worried about it still affecting Roxy or Clara then it¡¯s very unlikely at this point¡­ they just like you.¡±


    I exchanged a glance with the techie as Belle moved away to join the others.


    [You think that is so?]


    ¡°I¡¯m far too inebriated to give you a safe response to that question.¡± Clara leaned closer to me. ¡°However, if you grill me up a burger, I will eat it.¡±


    [Oh? That is more than enough of an answer for me then. Maybe I could ask a favor in return?]


    She smiled and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Name your price, Gunquake.¡±


    [Could you print me off a list of the B-Rank teams?]


    ¡°More bland than I had hoped, but consider it done.¡±


    I nodded as she went off to the workshop, placing her hand on my cybernetic shoulder briefly - although possibly more for stability than familiarity. With a sigh, I stood and stepped over to the primed grill and asked everyone for their orders. In between chatting, they had pitched in to cut up onions, tomatoes, and cheese.


    For a moment, I tuned them out as they extolled the virtues of each of their ingredient preferences, with a particularly heated exchange happening between Roxy and Roy over something or other. I just¡­ enjoyed being here. It wasn¡¯t so long ago that my life was devoted to killing people like these few, yet here they were - as my friends, just as if they didn¡¯t have any powers at all.


    My mood cooled slightly as the techie stepped out of the workshop with a printed list of all those who stood in our way. Unfamiliar unknowns, just like those I would have been ordered to murder. My grip tightened on the tongs.


    I knew well enough there was more than one way to climb the ladder.

 82 - Nil by Mouth

    Roxy scowled at me and shook her half-eaten hamburger. ¡°I¡¯m going to pretend I didn¡¯t hear that, Dubs.¡±


    I shrugged, but the looks on the faces of the rest of the group told me perhaps I was indeed in the wrong. Apparently, killing off the competition wasn¡¯t the done thing, even if we were going to slide toward being anti-heroes.


    Ren nodded slowly. ¡°Most supers are assholes, but they¡¯re not¡­ bad people. Most. Even the ones who are bad probably don¡¯t deserve to be murdered still.¡±


    [Understood. We¡¯ll do this the hard way then.]


    I tried to ignore the renewed glare of the strength super by lifting up the B-Rank team list again. The team in 9th place on the roster¡ªjust above us¡ªwas called Urban Guardians. They were the current Central Goldarch B-Ranks. Led by a telekinesis super called Tetris. Given that they were in the city center, I expected them to have a better standing.


    According to Ren, their popularity was waning due to two of the members not being that exciting in the public eye. Fresh Groove, a dance-based avoidance hero, had been a meme for a while, but fans had grown tired of his shtick and moved on. Their durability super, Blue Bulwark, was a little too defensive¡ªalthough very effective¡ªand didn¡¯t have the pizzazz to really drum up interest.


    That news caused me to narrow my eyes at the gathered five of us - plus Clara. Were we marketable? It was something that I even hated to ask myself¡­ yet I knew this needed to be done, and I¡¯d approach it the same as any of my other contracts. To be the most effective team, we¡¯d need to look like one. My desire to shape this group into a new squad wasn¡¯t just for my own benefit. And I already had a theme in mind.


    So far, all of them could fit it - aside from Belle. More information was required.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll have a big sit down with Stacy,¡± Roy offered. ¡°Once Dubs has gotten the stamp of approval.¡±


    Ren rolled her eyes. ¡°I can¡¯t wait. I¡¯m still her least favorite, somehow.¡±


    Possibly something related to her wealth and our manager¡¯s predilection for billionaire romance novels. I tuned the others out as they began telling stories about Stacy. Too much on my mind. The burgers had gone down well - I seemed to have a natural knack for cooking, similar to how I performed with the pancakes the other day. Some of my old life must have been spent cooking, although it didn¡¯t feel as though I was drawing on prior knowledge exactly.


    It was quite likely the League knew I had some magical ability. Would be foolish to assume their headquarters wasn¡¯t kitted out with every type of scan or detecting ability they could get their hands on. They¡¯d need it. There must be not only much stranger people out there than me, but much more dangerous as well. Until¡­ I started getting my own way, at least.


    The team in eighth place seemed to have a gothic theme. A little¡­ well, cliche. That sort of thing did sell well. Seventh had a commando or mercenary theme and had a space vacant in their five. That could put them at a disadvantage. The team in sixth¡ªthe highest ranked B-Team¡ªwas a strange mix of cowboy and nautical tropes. Landlocked Lawbringers, they were called. Their Leader was possibly part robotic or something, I was sure Clara would know.


    She had managed to eat half of her burger before tapping out. Nothing like toast. She had a sour face through the whole process and still persisted despite my assurances she needn¡¯t do the deed. After giving up on my cooking, and much to the chagrin of Roxy, the techie seemed to find amusement in just eating rings of raw onion.


    While the others discussed gossip over the A-Rank team assigned to our quadrant, I gestured for Roy to break away from the others. The speedster followed me as we went on a slow walk around the perimeter of our houses. He apologized for not being able to find out much information on what my squad must have been¡ªapparently mercenary groups were a dime-a-dozen, especially if took into account the other nearby cities aside from Goldarch.


    I explained to him what I had found out. His expression was first one of surprise, before it turned into concern. Although he hadn¡¯t heard of a group using fantasy adventurer class names, the amount of power I had, in addition to my Advanced skill-set, gave him reason to believe I wasn¡¯t a simple sell-sword. I held the fact I was all but sure I worked for the government to myself for now.


    Some proof would be better than just my errant thoughts guiding that explanation.


    We stopped by my newly acquired vehicle for a moment.


    ¡°Ignoring for a moment that I know this is from a gang,¡± he said, shooting me a brief scowl. ¡°It¡¯s not a terrible vehicle¡ªespecially for the outskirts. I know a guy with a body shop that owes me a favor if you¡¯re looking for a repaint?¡±


    [Please. Do they do upgrades as well?]


    ¡°Performance, maybe. Nothing high tech or hero-adjacent. You¡¯d need to find a specialist or go through the League.¡± He rubbed at his short beard. ¡°Probably the latter, so you don¡¯t tread on any toes.¡±


    I grunted.


    [That seems to be a speciality of mine, actually. In fact, I was going to ask you for a favor.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± He grinned as we resumed our casual patrol. ¡°As long as it doesn¡¯t involve anything illegal, I¡¯m sure I can do at least that.¡±


    [I think you¡¯ll be pleasantly surprised.]


    As I explained it to him, he wasn¡¯t. Surprised, sure, but the grimace told me I might be pushing the limits of our brief friendship. After a few moments of thought, he gave me a shrug.


    ¡°You¡¯re a crafty bastard, Dubs. Risky, though.¡±


    [We both know that¡¯s how I operate. What¡¯s a little gamble for greater reward?]


    He shook his head, but smiled. ¡°Alright, asshole, you¡¯re on. If this works out and I get reinstated, then I¡¯ll owe you big time.¡±


    I nodded as we returned to the garden area.


    [Excellent. We need to spar again soon¡ªClara seems to believe I am improving.]


    ¡°Crazy. Do you ever rest?¡±


    [Allegedly. I haven¡¯t been seriously injured recently, so I¡¯m getting itchy feet.]


    Roy sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how Roxy puts up with you. Then again, it seems you¡¯re good at winning over people.¡±


    ¡°Gunquake!¡±


    Any response to his statement stopped in my brain before my vocalizer could activate, as I turned to see the techie run over from the workshop with a new canister freshly completed. We¡¯d need to order some more at this rate.


    Just before she reached me, Clara stumbled and tripped over the grass. Clearly the alcohol had done the whole group a disservice, as nobody stopped her before she fell to her knees and head-butted my gun-arm with a hollow clang of the barrel resounding out.


    ¡°Ow, fuck,¡± she complained, pulling a face up at me as she held her head. ¡°You¡¯re so hard, Gunquake.¡±


    ¡°Alright, gremlin.¡± Roxy appeared behind her, grabbing her by the back of her sweatshirt and lifting her up like a mother cat with a kitten. ¡°Let¡¯s get you inside, so I can fix that head of yours.¡±


    Clara pouted and handed me over the canister before the super carried her off into the house.


    While I could have admonished the speedster for not stepping in, or Belle for not casting a protective shield, I didn¡¯t have the heart for it. We were rusty as a team and needed practice. Plus, we had been living today as if we weren¡¯t heroes. Still, it was something I¡¯d remember to browbeat them about further down the line.


    ¡°Roxy is positively glowing,¡± Ren said, taking my focus back to the present. ¡°Seeing you together¡­ you¡¯re actually a cute couple.¡±


    ¡°Not that it should be surprising,¡± Belle added, on her second bottle of hard liquor. ¡°Dubs is your classic bad boy with a heart of gold.¡±


    My greatest super power seemed to be making people ignore the fact that I was a serial killer. Maybe they had a different view on death, given how far apart they were from a normal person. No, clearly I was just that impressive.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Roy agreed. ¡°So much better than-¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Belle interrupted. ¡°We do not mention his name.¡±


    The speedster looked confused. ¡°Really? Oh, I get it.¡± He raised an eyebrow at me. ¡°Dubs is smart, though. I bet he could detective it out in an evening.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t encourage him,¡± the elf said with a scowl. ¡°Last thing we need it fingers pointed at us when supers start turning up dead.¡±


    Maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but I wondered how far up the list I could get before I was stopped. Not far enough.


    Roxy then stepped back out of the house, putting an end to the discussion over her ex and how much better I was for the super. It was difficult to really quantify it on my end. Although it was clear I had some prior experience with women, none of my emerging memories had hinted at a relationship of any kind. Roxy was all I knew, and I loved her.


    ¡°Clara is taking some painkillers and has an ice pack on,¡± she said. ¡°She¡¯ll be out soon enough.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you¡¯re close with her again,¡± Belle said, leaning back in her chair. ¡°She seems¡­ close with Dubs, too. Do you guys have like a¡­ throuple situation?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Roxy immediately replied, before pulling a face. ¡°It¡¯s complicated?¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    [Clara and I have a platonic bond. A necessity due to our working relationship, to have trust and symbiosis.]


    ¡°But it¡¯s nothing physical,¡± the super added, waving her hand. ¡°Other than like hugging and hand holding¡­¡± her expression changed to a grimace the longer she dug that hole.


    Belle smiled. ¡°You could have just said yes.¡±


    Roxy rolled her eyes and gave me an exasperated shrug. ¡°I need more beers. Have you told everyone about that time we fought that monster yet, Dubs?¡±


    I shook my head and took the hint. Over the course of a couple of hours, I told them all about what I had gotten up to. We even went over some of my contract work against the villains I had killed. The pit fighting with Roy. A more detailed play-by-play of the hobgoblin forge mission. Clara rejoined us, with only a slight bruise to show from her misadventure, and her energy levels knocked down a couple of notches.


    While the others gave me plenty of grimaces, looks of surprise, and concerned glances to each other as I went over some of my past exploits¡ªRoxy was hanging on every word like my biggest fan. Totally impressed and proud of everything I had accomplished, even while I was describing some of the more macabre acts I had carried out.


    She interjected to tell them about the casino job, where she had turned up to see the walls painted red, the mass of corpses I had made, and finally me standing there with my gun down the throat of the perp we both wanted to bag.


    The tale received nods of understanding when she gushed over me standing up to her and killing the mob boss without question. Roxy had been pretty pissed at the time, but the others saw it as one of the reasons she had been drawn to me. Reckless and unafraid of her strength. The speedster acted sheepish when Belle included me defending the super when he had tried to goad me into a fight as another factor.


    This lead to a segue into other times Roy had been an asshole, including one time he had almost screwed over one of their missions for turning up drunk. Apparently with his supersuit pants on backwards somehow. What I got out of most of their stories was that they each had been stuck in some manner of vice that was eroding at not only the team but their own careers.


    Roy was self-destructive. Roxy was combative. Belle was uncomfortable to be around. Ren was distracted.


    So those were the things I had sought to fix.


    Of course, I had worked on myself as well. Previously, I was a liability to myself. Edging closer to death every contract. Willing to pay any cost for success. I still took risks, but now I had built myself up to thrive and survive. Even without the magic aura or synapse skills, my tactical knowledge and combat experience put me above most.


    With time and money I could extend my life and career by years. Assuming I didn¡¯t get unlucky.


    As the group laughed over Belle making a quip at Roy¡¯s expense, I wondered what would happen if I fought them.


    Currently, Roxy was outside my capabilities¡ªunless I had enough preparation time. I hadn¡¯t seen Ren in action, nor Belle, to know what they were really capable of¡­ but I wasn¡¯t in a rush to make enemies of allies. Not today.


    [Once I¡¯m officiated, I¡¯d like to get together for some team fight practice.]


    My statement was a little disjointed from the current conversation, but given we were all a bit inebriated, it didn¡¯t rustle any feathers.


    And thankfully, they all agreed. Not only sparring, but in the future I¡¯d probably try to convince them we should head out to the wastes and fight monsters and mutant groups. Cut our teeth to stay sharp. We had a really good mix of powers between us, but that meant nothing if we weren¡¯t coordinated and well-practiced.


    Grill back in action, I cooked up more food. A process made smoother with the beers draining through my canister. As much as I was a blunted tool, I was comfortable. Seconds seemed to melt away. I remembered to compliment Belle on the cake she had given me¡ªa thought Roxy echoed¡ªwhich the support super appreciated. Time was going fast now. In fact, the rest of the afternoon was quite the blur of talking, food, and drinks.


    The pleasant daytime eventually rolled around to dusk, and the others stretched and yawned. We hadn¡¯t anticipated the gathering to last further than the afternoon, but we had almost stepped on the toes of nightfall by the time our social batteries had hit their limit. A sure sign that this had been a success.


    I was slightly surprised to receive hugs from the departing supers. Perhaps the alcohol had eased that process, but after a brief one from Ren, and one that was pulled in from a handshake from Roy, the hug from Belle was tighter than expected. As she withdrew, I realized it was because she had clipped something around my neck. A slim chain, with a small metal rectangle that now sat against my t-shirt. I couldn¡¯t see what was on it, but she placed her hand over it and looked up at me, peering over her round sunglasses.


    ¡°I lied about not having s housewarming gift,¡± she said. ¡°Keep this safe and it will do the same for you. I just wanted to make sure you were genuine, that¡¯s all.¡±


    [Thank you, Belle. I appreciate it.]


    ¡°You¡¯re a good match for the team, and it''s been nice being able to be myself for a change.¡± She smiled and looked over at Roxy, who was chatting and hugging the other two still. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking break her heart, otherwise she¡¯ll literally kill us all.¡±


    She gave me a pat on the arm and left to catch up to Ren. The elf had taken a sobering pill, only briefly flaunting that she¡¯d only brought one for herself. Given that she had to pilot the helicopter¡ªeven if she assured me it was partially autonomous¡ªI couldn¡¯t fault her for wanting to cut off the warm buzz we each had on. Better than accidentally crashing, although I had enough wherewithal to raise my eyebrow at the speedster, who was intending on running back through the outskirts in the dark. In flip-flops.


    I needed him to get home in one piece.


    Clara stepped up beside me, clutching onto my gun for stability. ¡°I also received a hug and a necklace from Belle.¡± She pulled a face, clearly unimpressed with the physical contact. ¡°Today has been overwhelming for my senses.¡±


    [You didn¡¯t hide in the workshop, though. I¡¯m proud.]


    ¡°Oh, stop. Despite my current appearance, I don¡¯t need babying.¡± She raised an eyebrow and smiled at me.


    [You¡¯re a terrible liar, Clara.]


    ¡°Indeed. At least I haven¡¯t persisted in calling you daddy.¡± Her brow furrowed as soon as she finished speaking. ¡°Speaking of that¡­ now would be a good time, while my inhibitions are lowered, to open up about my family.¡±


    [We can detach the top of the grill and use it as a campfire once we are alone.]


    ¡°I¡¯ll get another round of drinks in. I know exactly what we need.¡±


    I gave the techie a nod as she skirted away to head to the house. There was a slight waver to her step that said she probably didn¡¯t need the extra liquid confidence. Roxy appeared beside me without me noticing, her embrace a little stronger than she intended¡ªboth things signaling we were in the same boat as Clara.


    As she softened her grip on me, the helicopter powered up. One last wave and they were off. Roy had decided to take the chopper with the two women, which was probably for the best. The sound of the rotating blades filled our ears as dust blew across us. I winced, and the helicopter went up into the air and started off toward the city.


    ¡°We fucking did it, Dubs.¡± Roxy pulled me close for a series of kisses, trying and failing to aim for some part of my face that wasn¡¯t a cybernetic gas-mask.


    [That went rather well.]


    ¡°It¡¯s been years since we¡¯ve all gelled like that. You¡¯re a miracle worker.¡± She sighed and leaned her head on me as we watched the chopper disappear into the darkening night sky.


    Part of me expected it to explode or suddenly crash. The day had been wonderful¡ªalmost too good for what I was used to. For it to end without sudden tragedy seemed offputting in a way. Perhaps I¡¯d need to start becoming accustomed to this. This could become¡­ a regular thing.


    What a thought.


    As Clara scooted herself from the house to the workshop, keeping the contents of the prepared drink unnecessarily secret in a way she probably thought was subtle, I set up the campfire a little way in front of the swing chair. Enough to warm us and give us something to stare at, without risking burning our feet. Roxy brought out a blanket, more for comfort than warmth, and as the techie emerged with a canister and two glasses, we settled onto the swinging chair.


    ¡°Golden Firebrand?¡± The super asked, holding the glass up. ¡°You sneaky bitch. I didn¡¯t think we had any of this left.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been saving it for years, sister. I think Gunquake has earned his place to share our special drink.¡±


    I leaned to the side slightly so that the techie could insert the canister, the ice in her own glass clinking as she did so.


    [Dare I ask?]


    ¡°It¡¯s got some heat to it,¡± Roxy explained. ¡°My volcano shit might explain why I have no issue with it now, and Clara¡¯s lack of taste makes it no problem. One of the things we bonded over in our mistake-laden early years. It¡¯s strong shit, but given that you won¡¯t be tasting it either, you¡¯re one of the crew in that regard.¡±


    ¡°Plus practically married to us both,¡± Clara added, sitting down and shuffling herself up next to my gun-arm.


    ¡°Easy, gremlin. No amount of sauce is going to let you weasel in more than you already are.¡±


    The techie shrugged, and just gave me a coy smile.


    Although I couldn¡¯t taste it, I could definitely tell that the alcohol was stronger than whatever else I had been drinking throughout the day. It left me feeling warm and fuzzy, perfect for relaxing fire flickering in front of us. As the two women sipped at their drinks, we fell into a silence, just swinging gently and staring at the flames.


    ¡°It would come as no surprise to say that I was closest with my father,¡± Clara eventually said, softly. ¡°A technician for the League. Always fiddling with gadgets and trying to get me involved with things here and there. Patient to a fault. His speciality was defensive force fields, but he only¡­ had time to teach me basic electronics.¡±


    She took a long drink as Roxy and I remained silent.


    ¡°My mother wasn¡¯t as present in my life, but still had all the time and patience in the world for me. When they were younger and made the journey across the continent to come to Goldarch, she had caught some illness. Nothing fatal, but it often made her exhausted, and she¡¯d spend a lot of time in bed. Most of my tinkering was done on the floor of their bedroom so she could watch me while she rested.¡±


    Clara leaned her head to rest on my shoulder.


    ¡°The day they died was one of the rare days she was full of energy. We were all sat in a triangle in the lounge, full of smiles. Working on the finishing touches on some mechanisms that I had been putting together. A little dollhouse, with electronic doors and lighting. Mother helped decorate it while father prepared the wiring for me to solder. A vivid memory that remains with me, the last I have of them.¡±


    She polished off the last of her drink, bringing the last of the half-melted ice cubes into her mouth to crunch them. ¡°Then there was just flashes. White and red light, a ringing in my ears and my eyes were blown out of my head. They were gone.¡±


    [I¡¯m so sorry, Clara.]


    The techie nodded, which did little but rub her face on my arm. ¡°I try to honor them by being a better technician than they could have envisioned¡­ and I am. It¡¯s¡­ something I have made some peace with, but still hold it close to my heart.¡±


    [I appreciate you sharing it with me.]


    ¡°An inevitability, given what we are and will become.¡± She sighed deeply and then was silent.


    I turned my head to see that her eyes were closed, the glass in her hand slowly sliding away from her grip. Roxy leaned forward to take it from her before it dropped. ¡°Poor gremlin,¡± the super said softly. ¡°She kept the Firebrand down, which is a first.¡±


    With a smile, she snuggled up beside me, wrapping her arm around mine to hold my left hand.


    [What happened with Red Dust? Did Angel eventually get him?]


    ¡°Pretty soon after. Arrested, and in containment last we checked. Surprisingly, Clara doesn¡¯t hold a grudge enough to check. If¡­ you ever came across him, though.¡±


    [Dead.]


    ¡°Mmm. It¡¯s kind of hot when you¡¯re bad. He¡¯s an A-Rank villain, though. Laser eyes, flight, and a decent amount of strength and shit.¡± She gave my hand a squeeze. ¡°Not saying you couldn¡¯t handle it.¡±


    [I¡¯m supposed to be abstaining from reckless violence.]


    ¡°We both know how long that will last. You promised not to die, though. I need you.¡± Roxy sighed. ¡°I hope we can have days like this more often. It soothes my fucking soul.¡±


    As much as I agreed, I said nothing in return. My own wave of exhaustion rolled through my mind, tired from a day of socialization and probably too much alcohol for someone who took it straight into their bloodstream. It was¡­ bonding. A true squad forming. I was happy about it, enjoying living.


    Roxy and I sat, slowly swinging, until the fire started to dwindle and die out. The silence was comforting. We didn¡¯t need to say anything, but just enjoyed each other¡¯s company. Somehow, we didn¡¯t fall asleep, although I certainly got close.


    Eventually, she gave my hand a squeeze. ¡°We should get this dork into bed. She has work tomorrow. I could do with sleeping off this alcohol as well.¡±


    [Agreed.]


    She moved the blanket off and let go of me, circling around to pluck the techie off of me. Clara tried to keep a tight grasp, murmuring something in her sleep, before the super was able to pull her away.


    I stood and wavered a little. My brain had gotten used to the rocking motion of the seat, and being on firm ground was a little awkward. A fantastic day, but I still felt a little out of sorts. I wasn¡¯t about to fix my entire traumatic existence with one party, that was for sure.


    Roxy carried the techie across the garden as I put the remnants of the fire out. She paused on the porch as I caught up, giving me a tired smile.


    I stopped beside her and furrowed my brow. A chill ran its way up my spine.


    [Roxy?]


    ¡°Yeah, Dubs?¡± Her eyebrow raised, and she leaned in close to me as if I was about to request a final outdoors smooch.


    [I need you to throw me on top of the house, right now.]


    My selectloader slowly inserted a metal ball into the chamber.

 83 - Flight Risk

    The sudden rush of vertigo was hell for my stomach. A rumbling displeasure lurched through it, even though it was barely filled with anything. Roxy hadn¡¯t hesitated at all to facilitate my odd and out of the blue request. My words and instincts trusted fully. If I had more than a brief second to roll my mind across that thought, I probably had some soft compliments for the super.


    Instead, my feet landed on the tiles of the roof, and I spun in place. Facing the workshops, Overcharge flashed through my gun-arm as my disorientated brain made the decision before it was too late.


    Thonk. The solid metal ball blasted from my shotgun and across the garden at incredible speed. Rather than zip off into the darkness of the wastes beyond¡ªor even, heaven forbid, strike the workshop itself¡ªthere was instead a short and brief crunch and it jettisoned off at a different angle with much less power to it.


    With a quick fizz, the sound of a cloaking device filled the otherwise quiet area, and a figure appeared.


    A long beak open in surprise. Black feathers over their face and exposed lower legs that ended in taloned feet. The slim bird-person was wearing a tight outfit somewhere between a super suit and tactical gear, almost as dark as their feathers, with several pockets and pouches.


    My shot had struck them just above the right knee, completely shattering their more hollow bones. Even as two wings opened up to try to take them away, their now suddenly floppy limb caused them to topple forward, a muffled squark of pain shrieking from their hastily closed beak. Panic illuminated their red eyes as they toppled to the ground like a sack of rocks. A long rifle clattered down beside them.


    Before they could gather their composure and make plans to escape, Roxy was there. Her foot went up and came down on the bird who was trying to draw something from their belt. The super¡¯s bare foot collided with the elbow joint of the potential assassin, her drunken state putting far too much strength into the action. With a pop, their forearm severed from the rest due to the pressure of her crushing strike, Roxy¡¯s foot buried a good four inches into the dusty rock below.


    I hit the grass and rolled twice, any minor flare of pain nullified by my own inebriation. Back on my feet, I gave a glance back to the house to make sure Clara was okay. The techie was leaning against the doorframe now, the light of her cybernetic eyes wavering between the super and her prey. Reading my mind, she gave me a thumbs-up to satisfy my nerves¡ªright before she threw up on the porch.


    My attention went back to the pair making a mess just outside the lawn.


    After splitting the limb from the bird-person, Roxy had grabbed them by the suit and lifted them up. Her teeth were bared and I could see the glowing reflection of her eyes on the dark matt outfit of the figure.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got five seconds to explain why you¡¯re here before I tear your head off,¡± she growled.


    [They won¡¯t respond.]


    She glanced at me as I stood up beside her. It was already too late. We both watched the red of the bird¡¯s eyes flicker before going dull, their body shaking slightly before going lax.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Her brow furrowed. ¡°I didn¡¯t do that much¡­ damage¡­¡±


    The feathers fell one by one from the figure, graying slightly before they dropped. The blood dripping from their ruined limbs ceased, as if a faucet had been turned off.


    [We don¡¯t have much time.]


    I reached forward with my left hand and gripped at their neck, my fingers digging through their softening flesh with ease. With a sigh, I grasped at something and pulled it out - sinew and decaying meat coming alongside the flat square of metal.


    ¡°Holy fuck.¡± Roxy dropped the body to the ground as it wasted away at an accelerated rate. ¡°That¡¯s not contagious, I hope?¡±


    I shook my head, waiting for the remnants of bird gore to slip away from the implant I had removed.


    ¡°Do you know who the fuck they are? Why they¡¯re fucking here?¡± The sour end to our day was clearly sparking the super¡¯s anger. I could feel the furnace-level heat her body was generating.


    [Government drone.]


    Felt myself unable to say more than that. I hadn¡¯t come across one in my hitman days, yet I knew. The World Government had found me, if I was even lost to them to begin with.


    Was assassination the idea here? They had waited until I didn¡¯t have my lense on to pick up the warning signals from Erin. Clara was passed out. Roxy was just as drunk and didn¡¯t pay as much attention to those signals if they weren¡¯t an overt warning.


    Dark, so no sunlight displacement. The bird-people were experts in holding their breath, and with wings they had been able to come in from an unexpected angle. They must not know what I was really capable of, however. I had felt their presence. It was reasonable to assume that they didn¡¯t know about our Krellian tech and had gotten partially lucky due to our inebriation. A coincidence that worked against our favor.


    Their cloaking was at least part magical, however. A noisy thing, in terms of magical energy¡­ something a lot more rudimentary than what Silhouette used. I gave the rifle laying beside the now near-skeleton figure a glance. Nothing particularly powerful, so it wouldn¡¯t be something for killing Roxy. Clara or I would have been the target.


    I held up the chip. Part of it was a small glass capsule that probably held whatever evil juice caused the bird-person to melt away. A kill-switch they had activated when left with no way to escape the super¡¯s grip.


    ¡°But they¡¯re not¡­ like a robot or something? Bastard bled like anyone else.¡± She shuffled uneasily, glancing around the rooftops in case there were more waiting around. The anger and adrenaline had sobered her, and I briefly wondered if her internal heat had just burned off the alcohol itself.


    [I am not sure I hold that answer.]


    Real enough to be a threat. Roxy grunted and kicked at the corpse in frustration, the hollow bones of our assailant breaking and bursting into dust.


    [It is better that we get inside and rest. Even the weapons will degrade at a greater rate.]


    ¡°Are we even safe?¡± Her now concerned gaze looked at me in earnest, before glancing at the occasionally heaving techie.


    [Yes. I promise you.]


    She sighed. ¡°Ok, I trust you.¡± Roxy gave the sickly Clara a nod as we walked over to her. ¡°I¡¯m worried about this fragile one, though. She¡¯s not built like us for this bullshit.¡±


    [We could probably make a bed on the floor in our room?]


    ¡°I¡¯m too tired for fucking about.¡± The super rubbed at her brow before glaring at the techie. ¡°Get some water in you, and you can share with us, but you¡¯re on my side.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Clara replied, not really with it enough to give more of a response than that. She turned and shuffled her way toward the kitchen.


    ¡°I know she¡¯d be out like a light if she was allowed to snuggle your arm,¡± Roxy said, pausing to raise an eyebrow at me. ¡°But I¡¯m too on edge to risk her getting frisky. Not that it¡­¡± she trailed off, giving an exasperated shrug.


    I placed my hand on her lower back and ushered her inside.


    [I¡¯ll take the spare room if that makes things easier.]


    ¡°No. I need you close to me.¡± We stopped in the lobby to wait for the techie. ¡°I¡¯m worried now that we¡¯ll just keep getting attacked here. I need my home to be safe, Dubs.¡±


    I ran my hand across the side of her face. This wouldn¡¯t work if I couldn¡¯t guarantee their safety. I knew this¡ªand by ''this'' I didn¡¯t mean our relationship. My ascension needed the strength of those around me to prop me up. Constantly needled by my past, it just went to show that even having the best of days could end up with one of us dead. I didn¡¯t even bother with the what-ifs.


    The World Government had come back to reclaim or erase me. Maybe just spy and see if I was who they thought I was¡ªalthough they should know I could Detect Magic. The puzzle pieces weren¡¯t fitting together, even if they looked like they were part of the same design. From what I knew about the Gov, they were inefficient and inept at times, but unrelenting.


    I would have to rock the boat to get what I want.


    [Tomorrow, I will make sure we are safe. I promise this to you.]


    Her fiery eyes read mine, and a few moments of silence were only interrupted by the sounds of a filling glass from the kitchen. ¡°I¡­ believe you, Dubs. Honestly. I¡¯m sure not sure what the fuck you¡¯re planning on doing, but I trust that you¡¯d do whatever it took.¡±


    [The two of you are my anchor in this world of light and joy.]


    Clara stepped out of the room to join us. ¡°Maybe I misheard you, Gunquake, but I¡¯m game.¡± She went to lean against the doorframe, but completely misjudged it, stumbling to the side awkwardly and spilling some of her recently obtained water. In her other hand, she had a chilled canister for me.


    [Is she usually this bad?]


    ¡°Only when we drop the Firebrand.¡± Roxy gave me a humorless smile. ¡°It¡¯s rare we do, without a good¡ªor terrible¡ªreason to. Last time we committed a little arson, so almost getting assassinated is a reasonable outcome.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    I wasn¡¯t too sure there was anything salient I could say in response to that. Perhaps it would be better to pretend she hadn¡¯t told me. As we ascended the stairs, for some reason, my mind was drawn to my current moral compass.


    Throughout my hitman years, I had tried my best to avoid killing any innocents. As far as I knew, I had been successful. How did that pair up with my previous life? Killing things was in my nature, but superheroes were just that - the good guys. Or meant to be. Did I really kill them, or was it just villains? How much active duty did I serve in this role before the¡­ vague betrayal? My decommission.


    Boss must have known a lot more about me than he let on. To push me to be a killer, and then eventually cut me loose once I emerged from the shell. I still owed him a punch in thanks for the bullshit he had put me through, but¡­


    Hmm. His letter from the safe had called me a songbird. That paired up with me being Bard, I supposed. Was he just leaving clues I was either too dense or ignorant to yet understand?


    I shook all these question-marks out of my skull as we reached the bedroom. No point in dragging myself through the mud, not tonight.


    Clara handed me the fresh canister, which felt divine as I placed it in my neck. I sighed and sat down on the bed, while Roxy unclipped the techie¡¯s hair and took her sweatshirt off. The cat''s face on it had a little vomit on it, so the super chucked it out of the room to deal with in the morning. Clara had a white undershirt on underneath, which suited the fact that we had silently decided to go to bed still dressed.


    With Roxy in the middle, I was too tired to focus on anything but all the spinning plates I had in motion tomorrow. At least, until I slipped away into uneasy darkness.


    <hr>


    The bacon sizzled in the pan as I put the fried eggs onto a white plate.


    Footsteps on the stairs drew my attention, and I looked over to see Clara step into the lobby and pause at the doorway.


    ¡°I do not have the time or brain capacity for a normal conversation this morning, Gunquake. Instead, I will just leave you with a verbal list of notes.¡±


    She looked a little rough this morning. Dark circles around her eyes and already a fed-up expression, which was a first for a day at the doctor¡¯s lab. I gave her a gesture to continue.


    ¡°Do not break your rappel, but try to give it a go today. I didn¡¯t want to bring them out in front of the ogling crowd yesterday, but there is a case of five Quake shots in the workshop.¡± Clara took a deep breath. ¡°The scanner has confirmed the tactical vest did indeed have your blood on it. The encrypted drive progress has slowed. I will require a portion of your time this evening to go over some purchases. That is all.¡±


    [Have a good day today, Clara.]


    She paused before she left to give me a slight smile. ¡°Good luck, Gunquake. Do not hesitate to message me. I¡¯ll be waiting.¡±


    I rolled my eyes as the door closed and the soft footsteps of the techie wandered off to the van. Roxy had already given her a warning about saying we had technically slept together, but neither of them had their usual pep beyond that this morning.


    With the spatula, I shuffled the meat around. It wasn¡¯t even a minute after the van rolled away that another set of footsteps came down the stairs. The super had made the effort to put on her gym clothes, but with her hand rubbing at her eyes, she looked as though she was dead to the world.


    ¡°Thought I might be dreaming,¡± she murmured, and stepped through into the kitchen. ¡°Slept like shit and I have a hangover because I didn¡¯t take any water like a dumbshit. But this, Dubs.¡±


    She gestured to the pair of plates, already laden with buttered toast, sausages, fried eggs, and hash browns.


    ¡°Maybe Clara is right - I should just marry you.¡± Her grouchy expression turned into a grin as her eyes eagerly ate at the prepared food. ¡°I¡¯d much rather have this than flowers and shit.¡±


    [I doubt flowers would taste as good, although I am still learning to cook.]


    ¡°Bullshit.¡± She grabbed a slice of toast before I could admonish her, biting off some with a crunch. ¡°You know what I think? You¡¯re not a lute playing bard at all.¡±


    [We had already established that, I thought?]


    ¡°Mm.¡± She shook her head. ¡°That would be a literal translation of the class, but a bard could just as easily be a motivational speaker, an actor, or¡­ a proficient chef!¡±


    [I didn¡¯t realize you were such a nerd.]


    ¡°Hey, fuck you. When Clara and I lived in the League dorms, we had a couple friends who were into that kind of thing. Of course, I always played a barbarian type character, because I¡¯m soooo two-dimensional.¡±


    I made the show of giving her a look up and down.


    [You¡¯re three-dimensional as fuck, Roxy.]


    ¡°Charismatic asshole,¡± she said with a smile, despite rolling her eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve definitely earned a bubble bath today, and perhaps more if you want company.¡±


    [You had me at bubbles.]


    ¡°Prick.¡± She watched me switch the grill off and scoop the bacon onto our plates. ¡°You want to eat in the garden? It¡¯s a decent morning and I can look around, paranoid for more assassins.¡±


    I shook my head.


    [Let me get mine in the machine, and then I¡¯ll join you in the lounge.]


    ¡°As you wish.¡± Roxy finished off the slice of toast as she gave me a bow.


    It was only after I dumped the food into the open draw of the canister fabricator that I realized her food would have long cooled before mine had even finished processing. Would be unfair to make her wait, and on my walk back to the house I wondered if her proficient chef idea held any weight. I certainly had an aptitude for it coming from somewhere.


    Once I made it back to the lounge, I saw I needn¡¯t have worried, as the super was already halfway through hers.


    ¡°Sorry, Dubs. I needed this bad. Good food is hard to leave waiting.¡±


    [The fact that you enjoy it is enough for me.]


    She gave the couch a pat. ¡°Sit with me though. I yearn for your presence.¡±


    I checked the time on the wall-mounted clock. Just in time.


    [Sure. You¡¯ll want to switch the news on, however.]


    Roxy shuddered. ¡°Ugh, that¡¯s a weighty amount of dread you just jammed into me. But¡­ sure, fucko.¡± With a narrowed glare my way, only slightly diminished by the fact it didn¡¯t stop her from shoveling food into her mouth, she switched the television on.


    Almost timing it perfectly, we tuned in to the local news channel halfway through their short cinematic intro and booming tune.


    ¡°I¡¯m on edge,¡± Roxy complained, her attention switching between glancing at me and the news anchor.


    I was too, but was too focused to say anything. All risks had ways of going wrong¡ªthis one included. Sometimes you needed that long shot to actually make a connection, like the possibility was always there, but nobody else would gamble to win.


    ¡°We switch to our local reporter on the scene of an accident,¡± the man with glasses said, shuffling his paperwork as the scene transitioned to a young woman standing out in one of the city streets.


    ¡°Thank you, Jacob,¡± she began. ¡°I¡¯m here on the corner of Grimwall and Hepway at the scene of a vehicular collision that has turned out to be more than all parties had expected.¡±


    Roxy furrowed her brow, actually pausing her food consumption to focus.


    ¡°I have with me the victim of the accident, who is thankfully unscathed. Could you please explain what happened, Mr Van Michaels?¡±


    Our delivery driver appeared beside the reporter as the camera turned to the side. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. I was just on my way with Darla, doing my deliveries¡ªwhen this large truck came out of the junction much faster than he shoulda been.¡±


    ¡°Apologies, who is Darla?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my van,¡± he replied, grinning widely with pride straight at the camera. ¡°Poor beaut took quite the beating. She¡¯s normally extremely cautious about this sort of thing.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± the woman nodded politely, before regaining her composure. ¡°Thank you, Mr Van Micheals.¡± The camera now panned back to solely her. ¡°However, this was no ordinary accident. A known vagrant and elusive smuggler was in the opposing vehicle, en route to no doubt commit a crime and tarnish the great city of Goldarch.¡±


    ¡°No fucking way,¡± Roxy whispered, mouth open.


    ¡°Thankfully, one of our valued heroes was soon on the scene, and the criminal has been apprehended. Here with me is Captain Snaps, who I understand has been on leave from your League of Heroes duties?¡±


    The camera panned to the other side, to reveal Roy in some casual clothing, looking just as fresh¡ªif not more so¡ªas yesterday.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, Janice,¡± he said. ¡°I happened to be in the area going for a run to keep up my cardio while on rest from my duties. Once I heard the accident occur, I rushed over as fast as I could¡­ which is pretty quick.¡± He gave a cheesy grin to the camera.


    ¡°Even though you are currently not active with the League of Heroes, you stepped in to assist and also apprehend the criminal.¡±


    ¡°My work has always been more than a day job to me,¡± Roy said, his face becoming a little more serious. ¡°When I see the citizens of Goldarch in need, I step up to do what I can. Keeping the residents of this fine city safe is my priority, and I couldn¡¯t help but do what I feel is my duty. Lady luck blessed me with the opportunity to not only assist someone in need, but also take a criminal off the streets. That¡¯s not a bad way to start the day.¡±


    ¡°I can see you are all smiles, Captain Snaps. On behalf of the public, you have our thanks for going above and beyond your station¡ªthat is something we all hope to see more often in the near future, not only from you but all heroes.¡±


    ¡°The pleasure is all mine. Thank you, Janice.¡± The speedster gave her a nod before turning to the camera and giving a brief salute.


    ¡°Back to you in the studio, Jacob.¡±


    Roxy turned to me slowly, as the news switched to a piece about the latest toy fad. ¡°What the fucking fuck, Dubs? That was Snake that Roy just booked, right?¡±


    [It was.]


    She lifted up the last rasher of bacon and just held it as if she had never seen one before. ¡°Well¡­ fucking don¡¯t give me that. Out with all the details, asshole.¡±


    [Simply put, a big fluff piece in front of the public will have people clamoring for Roy to return. The League will want to capitalize on the publicity. It might bring his reinstatement forward, if not make it immediate. A boost for the group as well as his own career.]


    ¡°But Van Micheals¡­ and Snake?¡±


    [I had to pay the former a few credits for the inevitable Darla repairs. The latter¡­ I had Clara tell him to meet us this morning at a place that Van Micheals would be waiting for him to get into the accident. That area of the city has terrible camera placement, so wouldn¡¯t be suspicious for the smuggler to meet at, and keeps some of the finer details of how the accident occurred out of the greater picture.]


    Roxy stared at me blankly.


    [As Snake was not in the process of committing a crime, his sentence would be lower. I¡¯m not sure what rap sheet he has with the League, but this was the least of all evils. Nobody died and now the League will have to assign me a different trial.]


    ¡°Motherfucker,¡± she murmured. ¡°Remind me to never make an enemy of you. That could have really fucked things.¡±


    [There¡¯s still a chance it did. I would have thought you of all people would be used to playing with fire, though.]


    The super did nothing but sigh and roll her eyes.


    For the most part, I was happy enough. It hadn''t taken long to coach Roy on exactly what to say. I had solved a problem without resulting to violence¡ªaside from some dented panels on the sturdy Darla. The trouble with large organizations like the League is that they often ignore the granular nature of reality. There was too much political and bureaucratic influence in all their processes. Capitalism, where us supers were the profitable assets.


    To set ourselves aside from the other heroes who nodded and toed the line, we¡¯d have to break some rules and play the League at their own games.


    Of course, this was the easy part of the day. The actually difficult and risky part came after. If at all.


    In answer to my thoughts and set things in motion, I put my goggles on to see my notifications.


    //Stacy: Did you see the news, GQ?


    //Stacy: I am¡­ unsure as to if you set this up?


    //Gunquake: If anything, I am disappointed.


    //Gunquake: This means I failed my trial?


    //Stacy: It has been rendered void, but they will assign you something else.


    //Stacy: They didn¡¯t seem pleased about the fact.


    //Gunquake: I am happy that a criminal is off of the streets.


    //Gunquake: But saddened that I was not able to impress you


    //Gunquake: and the League.


    //Stacy: You¡¯ll have other chances, GQ.


    //Stacy: Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll keep pushing to get the best for you.


    //Gunquake: There was actually a favor I wanted to ask¡­


    //Gunquake: If that¡¯s not too forward.


    //Stacy: No!


    //Stacy: I mean, what is it I can do for you, GQ?


    I sighed and looked over at the super, once again pecking at the remains of her food, but somewhat withdrawn and apprehensive now. There was no doubt in my mind that I would regret this, but it¡¯s what I needed to do.


    The most important thing was to keep us safe.


    //Gunquake: I need you to arrange a one-to-one meeting. Today if possible.


    //Gunquake: With Director Kingston.

 84 - Secured in Place

    I looked up at the League building, fully geared up, yet not entirely ready for this.


    It had been a surprise for both Stacy and myself that the Director had agreed almost immediately to meet me. As soon as I was able to get here. Roxy had switched to her bossy self, trying to get me ready like I was a child late for school. She seemed to be a stickler for being on time¡ªat least when the League was involved.


    I drove my van off to the shop and paid for a repaint. Even coerced the man into giving me the option of replacing the large headlights with a bulb that could change color. I was still building my image, even with the slight chance I wouldn¡¯t have one after this meeting.


    So I had walked the rest of the way over here. It wasn¡¯t too far and gave my brain some time to organize my thoughts. Roxy had been supportive, but anxious about what I had planned. I wasn¡¯t just kicking the hornet¡¯s nest, but instead just punting it straight into a grizzly bear.


    But there was something I was starting to realize.


    I wasn¡¯t just a killer. Not entirely. I could cook. I could make friends. I could have thoughts that didn¡¯t revolve around murder.


    Perhaps I had just excelled at killing because I had a handful of traits that I was just an expert in, and that was one of them due to my prior work. I knew in the back of my mind that I wasn¡¯t even the best fighter in the squad. I was more of a¡­ negotiator?


    My eyes narrowed at the revolving doors. Given the last week or so, that title was a puzzle piece that fit all too well. It was time to see how accurate it was.


    With a sigh, I stepped forward through the doors and into the wide open lobby. Miguel was there, as expected¡ªand his face lit up at seeing me.


    ¡°Gunquake!¡± he said, as I walked over. ¡°Pleasure to see you again.¡±


    [You too, Miguel.]


    ¡°Director Kingston is ready and waiting for you. Best of luck.¡± The old man gave me a wink.


    I nodded in return, unsure as to what to say¡ªor how much he really knew. There was a chance that his ability allowed him to have ears and eyes on the whole building, although I hoped some places had privacy. I went over to the elevator and stood inside it.


    A small wave of vertigo weighed on me as I moved upward. My wandering thoughts had me questioning why the security here felt so low. I could have walked up and shot Miguel in the face easily enough¡ªfor all the good that would do. The elevators wouldn¡¯t work and nobody would be able to get to the higher floors. Maybe it just being the site of so many supers made it far too dangerous to try crossing.


    I made a note to look up what powerful villains were at large.


    Elevator stopped, and the doors opened up. A different floor than last time, but a quick glance at the layout presented put any worries about finding the right door to rest. There was a small lobby, and then an office door straight ahead. That was it. Director Kingstons private office.


    As I glanced around at the handful of comfortable looking chairs, the office door cracked and opened slightly. He really was ready for me immediately. With one last sigh to ground myself, I went and pushed through. It immediately reminded me of Ren¡¯s office.


    Mostly because of the mass of screens adorning each wall, but instead of stock prices and sales fluctuations, it was all hero-related. Popularity charts, crime rates, several different news feeds, and the biggest monitor on the wall to his left had the team rankings. The one opposite had individual rankings, something I hadn¡¯t really considered at any point. There was a listing for most popular, as well as one for highest earnings¡ªalthough the actual names appeared blurred to my eyes, as if it was protected in some manner.


    The Director was seated behind a desk filled will very neatly organized paperwork. Five trays in total, with sharp-edged files in small stacks. Some loose pages that he had been reading through were in a pile that looked aligned millimeter perfect.


    ¡°Gunquake,¡± he said, his fingers already steepled in front of his face. ¡°Please take a seat.¡±


    [Thank you, I appreciate you seeing me at such short notice.]


    He nodded, but his impassive expression didn¡¯t change. ¡°I am most curious as to why a hero going through their trials would request a meeting with me directly. This could have ramifications to your progress.¡±


    [Unfortunately, we both know why I am here. How secure are we to talk?]


    The Director¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, before he made a gesture with his fingers¡ªthe engraved tips glowing red briefly. ¡°Nobody will hear anything now. We limited time, however.¡±


    [Is that some arbitrary pressure in the hopes I¡¯ll spill more than intended?]


    He remained stoic for a brief moment, before a wry smile curled up at the sides of his mouth. ¡°You truly are smarter than your own good.¡±


    It was a relatively straightforward plan on his part. There was a hope that in being tight-lipped, he could prompt me to fill the gaps with things he might not know. The charade with Roy and Snake this morning should have been first on the itinerary, and I knew better to think he was ignorant over what had happened¡ªeven if Stacy ate up my lies like pancakes.


    [If you are under the impression that I came to fill your head with information, I am sorry to disappoint.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± He tilted his head. ¡°What do you mean, Gunquake?¡±


    [You know what I was. What I am. Let¡¯s not play these games.]


    He stretched out his fingers and rested his hands on the desk, looking at it for a brief moment before raising an eyebrow at me. ¡°I was under the impression you were suffering amnesia. Has it started easing up?¡±


    [Some fog has lifted, but plenty remains. Perhaps there are some details you know that I do not. There may be things I know that you do not. How we meet in the middle will be difficult for the both of us with our current relationship.]


    ¡°Very true.¡± He nodded slowly. ¡°So what brings you to this meeting of held tongues and writhing secrets?¡±


    [I have something to request of you, with something to offer in return.]


    The Director stared at me in contemplation, before leaning back in his chair. He raised a hand up to inspect his nails¡ªwhich I noted still retained a slight glow to them¡ªbefore his gaze returned to me. ¡°I will hear you out, but I want you to know this is highly irregular. Under other circumstances¡­ well, please go ahead.¡±


    I was starting to get a better grip on who I was. After bouncing back from impossible odds and life-ending injuries, I understood my limits. What I was willing to do to win, and to protect those I now cared about. That meant I also knew my when violence wasn''t the answer, and when to use my softer skills to seek out success.


    [I need the League¡¯s help in protecting my home.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± He gave me a bemused frown. ¡°The cloaking technology and one of our best strength supers by your side isn¡¯t enough?¡±


    [Last night, a World Government drone tried to assassinate one of us.]


    Any humor immediately left his face. ¡°Shit. Are you certain?¡±


    It was a rhetorical question. He knew the likelihood of it happening, and it not being something that I would just make up.


    [They activated their self-termination once we found them. Magically cloaked.]


    He nodded, his thought-filled eyes turning back to me, reading between the lines. ¡°We thought we had more time before the bastards started sniffing around. It sounds like they aren¡¯t certain it was you.¡±


    Otherwise, they wouldn¡¯t have used magic to hide.


    [I¡¯m not keen to have a bunch of dead Agents littering my lawn. You also don¡¯t want the fallout if one of us died.]


    It didn¡¯t take much to imagine Roxy¡¯s fury, or my cold vengeance streak¡ªeven Clara had the potential to be destructive. We were all potential powder kegs while under this constant threat, and it would be better for everyone involved if we were kept safe and happy. That was one of the roles the League provided to supers. The Director knew this and was running through the same train of thought.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how familiar you are with greater politics,¡± he begun, sighing and steepling his fingers again. ¡°But¡­ it might come as a surprise to learn the Government doesn¡¯t get on too well with the League.¡±


    [The power you control is a threat?]


    He smiled, dryly. ¡°Essentially, yes. The League of Heroes draws in nearly every person with powers on the continent, due to the life they can live here. Some¡­ the Gov gets to first. We have our own way of maintaining control of what is essentially a bunch of toddlers with the strength to level buildings or melt brains.¡±


    I nodded along. From my current experiences, superheroes were pretty much the same as regular people. A mixed bag of assholes with the awkward flaws and drab problems no different from everyone else. They were just powerful and could wreak havoc on the world if given the opportunity.


    The League was part super-daycare, part commercial enterprise. Using the heroes like action figures to solve enough crime to keep them busy, without¡­ well, they probably allowed some manner of villainy to persist to keep the heroes occupied. There was some cruelty in there. A facade that left a sour feeling in my stomach.


    Something better than what the World Government would offer, if my prior life was any indication.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°They¡¯ve tried to negotiate their way into the League¡¯s boardroom for a decade. We know that they¡¯d only bring destabilization, pushing anarchy so that they could point a finger and say that things aren¡¯t working out. Then they¡¯d break us down, do who knows what with the supers, and take full control over Goldarch.¡±


    [And if the superheroes fought back?]


    ¡°War,¡± he said, plainly. ¡°Which nobody wants. You¡¯re only seeing the blunt end of what the World Government is capable of. They are like¡­ a sleeping dragon. They¡¯ll huff and glare as their kobold minions mess around inefficiently, but they can draw on a standing army from every city on the continent. Sleeper agents in Goldarch already, no doubt.¡±


    [They¡¯ve tried to infiltrate the League?]


    ¡°Of course.¡± His hands clenched into fists briefly. ¡°While we have flaws of our own, I can tell you hand-on-heart that our vetting process is as airtight as humanly possible¡­¡±


    [So you¡¯re saying there¡¯s a chance.]


    ¡°If so, they haven¡¯t gained anything. In regards to your safety issue, there are certain strings I can pull¡­ I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware that you are somebody¡¯s pet project.¡±


    [Seems to be a common theme in my life.]


    He gave me another wry smile. ¡°So, what is it you are offering in return?¡±


    We had reached a level of candor that was approaching casual, but he was still keeping me at arm''s length. Part of me had hoped I could charm everything I wanted from him with little issue, but I had a feeling it would need to be more of a give and take.


    [You caught the news this morning, I take it?]


    ¡°Of course. Quite the result for Captain Snaps.¡± He tilted his head. ¡°Not usually something that he would do of his own volition. Plus, with that delivery driver, who is a known contact of yours¡­¡±


    It stood to reason that the League would know about Van Michaels. Even if they couldn¡¯t put an eye on our homes, they would have seen the vehicle making trips out to the outskirts where we were.


    [Then I probably don¡¯t need to tell you I arranged the whole thing. I needed to get out of the trial mission as I had prior contact with the smuggler.]


    The Director furrowed his brow. ¡°That¡¯s rather brazen of you. You realize that is enough of a red flag that we could cancel your application and possibly press charges?¡±


    [You won¡¯t, though. You¡¯ve been watching me for years, and know fully well what I am. That¡¯s part of the reason you even want me, isn¡¯t it? If the League needs a vigilante to carry out some of the dirtier work, I¡¯m all yours. I will bolster and drag Rockslide¡¯s team up the rankings, and help you against the World Government.]


    His expression relaxed, and he spent a few moments of silence just observing me. ¡°How much contact do you have with the person you know as ''Boss''?¡±


    [None. I told him I would no longer work for him and he cut contact, said you were getting too close to him.]


    ¡°Hmm.¡± The Director picked up a pen and pulled a sheet of paper closer to make some notes.


    [You know him by another name, then?]


    He paused and looked up at me. ¡°Naturally. He was only a boss to you.¡±


    [And the other Agents.]


    There were the most minute changes in his face. The stoic expression had come close to breaking, but in some ways it was enough of an answer. It had only been me. Even the supposed Agent who had been killed at the science lab¡­ was just an excuse to get me there. Seemed obvious, in a way.


    [Do you know their actual name and relation to me?]


    I was giving up the fact that I was ignorant of some things, but I hoped that he might think I was bluffing him. Either way, my curiosity got the best of me.


    ¡°Yes,¡± the Director said. ¡°There was a good reason we were trying to hunt him down. Finding you wasn¡¯t quite the next best thing, but I know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.¡±


    [So you sent Rockslide over to pry the information from me.]


    ¡°No, Gunquake. We sent Rockslide so that she would drag her friend into the picture. Clara isn¡¯t clued in on that fact, but she¡¯s smart. I¡¯m sure the three of you worked out it wasn¡¯t just a coincidence.¡±


    [I¡¯m assuming you won¡¯t want to fill in some of the empty spaces in my brain, in regards to my past?]


    He shook his head. ¡°You make good on your promise, Gunquake, and we¡¯ll talk. Some in the League¡­ aren¡¯t fans of your existence, shall we say. I see your potential, but you have to walk inside the lines before I let you loose. You¡¯re already getting as lenient a passage as I¡¯m able to swing¡ªso you¡¯ll need to complete your trials.¡±


    [Understood. Just the home safety is all I request at present.]


    ¡°It will be done. Expect a truck to come by this evening. They will require this code¡­¡± he slid a piece of paper across the desk, five digits written out. ¡°Just so that you know it¡¯s from me. You¡¯re a high value asset, Gunquake¡­ even if you are not fully realized or can¡¯t understand it yet.¡±


    I nodded and placed the note in one of my pouches. My side quest for this meeting had been to try to eke out more information about myself. It looked to be pointless at this stage, as the man was being rightfully tight-lipped. However, I hadn¡¯t been shot in the head or arrested, so things were going better than my worst-case scenario.


    [Is there anything you are ready to tell me at this point?]


    The Director sucked at his teeth and leaned back in the chair. His eyes looked upward to the ceiling, digging through the horde of information I wished I could just beat out of his skull. In a nice way.


    ¡°Goldarch is¡­¡± he exhaled through his nose, changing tact. ¡°There¡¯s a certain amount of trouble we allow¡ªa balance to keep heroes busy while minimizing risk to the citizens. There are¡­ shall we say, third parties who don¡¯t care to play a role in the safety of our city. Goldarch will soon have more problems than we can handle, and we will require someone like you¡­ and possibly your team, to help correct some attitudes.¡±


    [By means of unreported violence, no doubt. Also, the team is still under the control of Rockslide.]


    He shrugged. ¡°It matters not who steers the ship, Gunquake. Only that it arrives at port.¡±


    I nodded, for lack of a better response. Even if I had a bit more experience with organizing a group, and certainly knew how to solve problems, I could never be the face of the team. It was horrifying enough that there might be Gunquake merch and public relation missions in my future. Roxy could deal with the people side of things as far as I was concerned.


    ¡°One last thing before we¡¯ll call this to a close,¡± the Director said, leaning forward and placing his hands on the desk. ¡°Just between us. I do not expect you to keep your nose clean, so if you¡¯re skirting the law to become what you need to be¡­ then do so. There is a limit, however, where even my vouching for you will not save your skin. All I ask is you stay loyal to the League.¡±


    [We¡¯d best hope I pass my trials then.]


    He leaned back and smiled. ¡°That we shall, Gunquake. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll hear from us soon.¡± His hands came up and his fingernails dulled to their normal color.


    [Thank you for seeing me.]


    I gave him a nod and stood. Left, through the lobby and back into the elevator. I had¡­ gotten what I wanted. The League would protect us. We¡¯d have to wait until later to see how exactly they planned to do that, but my hopes were¡­ middling. Maybe not very fair, but if I put on some pessimism now, then I could be pleasantly surprised later.


    [Have a good day, Miguel.]


    ¡°You too, Gunquake.¡± The man at the front desk gave me a wide grin and a nod as I left the elevator and went to the door.


    I had some time to kill before picking my vehicle back up. First port of call would be to update the others to say I wasn¡¯t executed or anything terrible. I stepped through the revolving doors and into the sunshine. Wrinkling up what little face I had, instead of bringing up my lense to send some messages, I looked over to the side where a familiar face was signing some autographs.


    After she had done the deed and given the pair of teenagers some prepared lines, Belle turned and noticed me. Now in her layered pearlescent robes and full outfit once more, she almost looked like a different person.


    ¡°Gunquake,¡± she said, smiling and stepping over closer immediately. ¡°What good grace that we cross paths. It must be fate, guided by Him.¡±


    [Are you going in? I was just leaving.]


    She shook her head and gestured down the road. ¡°Let us walk. I have many of his virtues to discuss with you¡­ as we move away from here.¡±


    Getting the hint, I turned and strolled down the pavement with her. It wasn¡¯t until we¡¯d cleared the block that she glanced around before deflating slightly.


    ¡°Thanks, Dubs. Honestly, being around you is like having a cigarette break.¡±


    [Didn¡¯t take you long to come around, did it?]


    She rolled her eyes. ¡°Having the other two hanging off of your arms has clearly given you an ego. Much like cigarettes, too much is a bad thing. A break is nice, but I do need my connection to Him.¡±


    [Of course. I wouldn¡¯t want to be stepping on so many toes anyway.]


    ¡°I¡¯m single, actually, and you¡¯re not my type.¡± She adjusted her grip on her elaborately decorated book. ¡°Is that all you think about?¡±


    [You might be right about the ego thing. Apologies. Did Roxy tell you what we got up to last night?]


    Belle gave me a dull expression. ¡°That wasn¡¯t an invitation for you to go into sordid detail, Gunquake. I can¡¯t be agony aunt for all of you.¡±


    //Dubs: We were attacked by someone spying on us.


    Her bright green eyes went up to her messages before back to me, her brow now furrowing. ¡°Everyone okay?¡±


    [Indeed. Shaken, at worst. I was just at the League to make a formal complaint.]


    She nodded, and her scowl remained. ¡°Let me know if there¡¯s anything I can do.¡±


    [I did have a few questions about your magic.]


    ¡°Oh? Please go ahead.¡±


    [In what way does your magic visually appear? And what spells do you have?]


    Belle gave me a wry grin. ¡°Although I may look like my spells would have a radiant or arcane appearance, they are usually accompanied by small growths of plant life and flowers. Not quite as overt as a druid, though.¡±


    My eye twinged at that last part, but I didn¡¯t think much of it.


    ¡°Plus, my supportive spells are more for preventative measure rather than healing. I can only cast Minor Regeneration on the healing side. I have Wards that protect either against certain elements or debilitating conditions, as well as shielding for both individuals as well as a dome. That one is my signature move.¡± There was a twinkle in her eye as she grinned at this last part.


    The spark of passion for her work.


    [Perfect. That¡¯s exactly what I wanted to know.]


    ¡°Should I be worried?¡± Any ire over my mistaken assumption she was under the effect of my charming personality had washed away.


    [Constantly. If I make it to be a hero and I have Roxy¡¯s ear, the team is going to be put to the grindstone.]


    We stopped at a corner to allow a couple of vehicles to pass by. Children in the back seat of the second car waved at Belle and she smiled and returned the gesture.


    ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to it. The actual hero work I get is rather droll, and I don¡¯t mind the League knowing I think that. Only being able to shield others has some niche uses outside of team missions¡­ and they have been few and far between.¡±


    [You want to come out and have a training session soon? I¡¯d like to see how hard Roxy can hit me while you protect me.]


    She pulled a face as we crossed the road. ¡°You¡¯re an odd duck, Dubs. Sounds good, though. Let me check my diary later and get back to you? I have a lot going on with the Church and getting some fundraising set up.¡±


    [Of course. I¡¯m available anytime, really. Until the League finds me a new mission.]


    ¡°I saw Roy on the television today. Did¡­¡± she trailed off, knowing that there could be any number of ears listening in on us right now.


    [What can I say? I appear to have been a positive influence on him.]


    Belle narrowed her eyes slightly and nodded, picking up what I truly meant. ¡°Well, I shouldn¡¯t get too comfortable being disconnected from Him, but thanks for the breather, Dubs.¡±


    [Anytime, Belle. Have a good day.]


    With a nod and a smile, she turned to start walking back. I watched her leave for a moment before bringing up the group chat I had with home base.


    //Dubs: Meeting over.


    //Dubs: They are sending protection, and I have permission to be somewhat naughty.


    //Clara: Best news I¡¯ve heard all day.


    //Roxy: I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay! What are they sending?


    //Dubs: No idea. Things going okay for you both?


    //Clara: I¡¯ve got something special to thank you for last night~


    //Roxy: I swear, gremlin¡­


    //Roxy: Been training away the anxiety.


    //Roxy: Might have overdone it, but I¡¯m still going¡­ ha ha.


    //Roxy: Bring me some ice cream back home? :(


    //Dubs: Consider it done.


    I closed down the chat as Clara said something about what she wanted, and the super then started bickering with her. I ignored it all, as I took in my surroundings properly.


    Where the fuck was I meant to get ice cream?


    On the right side, across the street, the buildings looked like some kind of factories or workshops. To my left were storage sheds, the size of a suburban garage each. One row along the sidewalk level, and occasionally a set of metal stairs that went up to a second level of more of the same. Despite being so close to the city center, many were disheveled or looked like they could do with a good cleaning.


    A quick look at my map told me I could follow this road down for a way and there would be a convenience store. How¡­ handy. I¡¯d need to circle back around to get my vehicle, but I wouldn¡¯t be getting home without it, anyway. Perhaps I¡¯d savor my brief win today and enjoy being out and about in the city.


    My eyes went over to the storage units as I passed. Ninety-eight was written on the closest, followed by ninety-five. This didn¡¯t make too much sense as they should either be sequential, or alternating with the ones up the top.


    I furrowed my brow as I walked, trying to watch as the numbers skipped a unit every three or four doors. I ignored the graffitied images of cats, genitals, and gang signs¡­ until I saw one that had me stop in place.


    This one had no number on it at all, just something spray painted with deep green.


    A large letter W.

 85 - Split

    Surely not.


    I spent a full minute standing in place and staring at this storage unit with the W sprayed across the otherwise white door. The League was only a couple of blocks away. The chances I would come across this¡ªif it was even what I thought it was¡ªit just didn¡¯t make sense.


    Although the whole thing would open like a normal garage to allow a vehicle in, there was also the outline of a more normal sized door on the left side. One that was padlocked.


    A sigh rattled through my re-breather filter. What could I really do except try the key and see? Out from my pouch and into my hand it came. I stepped over to the smaller door and lifted the padlock to inspect it. Nothing unusual, although I was sure I could do some breaking and entering if I wanted to¡ªignoring the fact that it would make quite the scene in broad daylight.


    I placed the end of the key into the slot and pushed it all the way in. With a twist, it clicked and unlocked. Fuck.


    Selectloader pushed in a Tazer cartridge, as it was a little less suspect than jamming a mag in. With my breath held, I pushed the door open and stepped into the darkened space. My hand went up and felt for a light switch¡ªwhich was just on the left wall where I had entered. Although I had a flashlight somewhere on my person, stumbling like that sounded too horror-movie-adjacent for my liking.


    With a hum and series of clicks, the wide overhead light flickered on, bathing the space in pale white illumination. Revealing that the storage unit was completely empty, aside from one thing.


    Near the back of the room, a dusty white sheet covered something. Approximately four feet square, at a guess. I pulled the door closed behind me, feeling my muscles tense up. The key had been given by my skeletal arm, hidden beneath my house. While it was unlikely that the rest of my skeleton was stored away here, I felt the prickle of unease running down my spine.


    The walls were plain brickwork painted white at some point in time. They appeared dusty and slightly grimy in the corners¡ªbut otherwise held no surprises. Both the floor and ceiling were light gray, probably poured concrete. Cheap, simple, and functional. Unfortunately, that meant there was little to distract myself from the sheet and whatever it was hiding.


    I sighed once more and stepped over to it. It didn¡¯t look like something I¡¯d need to shoot, but I was ready for it, just in case. I gripped at the sheet and pulled it away as quick as I could, causing a brief cloud of dust to swirl and cloud the area. My eyes went straight to what had been revealed.


    One of my least favorite storytelling mediums. A diorama.


    I allowed my lungs to empty as I lowered my gun-arm. On the surface of it, what was displayed before me was simple enough to understand. My stomach swirled as a heavy weight bore down on my soul.


    There were ten pegs shaped roughly like people standing on a square board. Tapered wooden triangles with a small sphere on the top of each to represent the head. The way in which they were arranged¡­ two stood opposite each other, a small distance between them, while these opposing figures then had four peg-people, each standing in a row behind them.


    A split.


    I crouched down to get a better look at the two groups, and immediately wished that I hadn¡¯t.


    The single figure on the left had two green dots for eyes. I stared blankly as it as dark shadows and muffled shouts echoed around in the back of my mind. The betrayal. Was I the betrayer, though¡ªor was it the other? My focus went past the small Bard peg to look at my accomplices. Three of them had red crosses painted on their faces, but were otherwise ordinary.


    I switched my gaze to the opposing group. Other than three of their back line having red crosses, there were no other details on them. Of ten, four yet remained.


    There was a story here, but I could tell it wasn¡¯t the full picture. A falling out between two factions within our squad? I was able to buy that, considering the work we had to do. We were clearly more than just yes-men, given how much power had been stocked into us. Could things have gotten bad enough that we had clashed, and a fight killing six of us broke out?


    [If only I wasn¡¯t being drip fed the past.]


    I grunted and stood back up. The arrangement meant that I could have a living ally, but given the state I recovered, who knew how they had fared. There was something else that didn¡¯t quite feel right about it. I wasn¡¯t being deceived, but this wasn¡¯t the entire truth. It was barely anything at all, really. More detail surrounding the apparent betrayal and breakdown of the squad, but¡­


    My brow furrow and I took a step back from the diorama displaying the at-odds pegs. Beneath this table, on the otherwise plain gray floor, was a hatch. Odd, considering we were at ground level¡­ these storage units didn¡¯t have a basement, surely?


    The fact that it was hidden entirely by the table, positioned deliberately, was mentally exhausting. I lifted the table gently and moved it off to the side. Secrets upon secrets.


    I kneeled down beside the hatch to check it for traps or if it had any markings or locks on it. Other than a handle set into the metal, there wasn¡¯t anything strange about it. Perhaps it was actually something mundane, and I was getting too far ahead of myself. Still¡­ my curiosity had been piqued.


    After stretching out my shoulders to loosen them up, I grabbed hold of the handle and pulled. There was some brief amount of resistance, and then it popped from the setting and opened up wide. Dust danced in the light that shone down into¡­ darkness. From my tactical vest, I took off the flashlight and switched it on.


    A brick tunnel that went straight down for a good twenty feet before there seemed to be a turn in the passageway. Could just be¡­ a maintenance tunnel? Or access to the sewer system or something. Head still reeling from how the morning had gone at the League, there was never any question over whether I was going to go down there. Of course I was.


    I mentally unclipped my new rappel, and the small cylinder slid out of my trenchcoat over my wrist, the cable unspooling slightly. Once it was long enough to touch the floor, I activated the foam, and it expanded quickly into a chunk roughly a foot cubed. It solidified and hardened, briefly becoming like concrete, melded to the floor. I pulled on it just to test it out. It didn¡¯t budge.


    Before I descended, I put a timer up in my lense. Ten minutes. The foam should last twenty before deteriorating, but I wanted to be out way before that eventuality. This close to the League, I was sure I could call on someone to drop by and save me if something happened, but I¡¯d rather not look like a lost puppy who had fallen down a well.


    With my feet braced against the edge, I leaned back into the hole, allowing the wire to extend slowly. There wasn¡¯t a great deal of room and I had to have my gun-arm point nearly straight up to avoid having it scrap along some of the brick walls.


    A modest amount of grunting and shuffling, and I paced my way down the wall with no incident. Stepping down onto the floor, I realized that I couldn¡¯t disconnect the rappel. It wasn¡¯t necessarily made for climbing up places. Turning my eyes to the opening in the passageway, there was a slight corridor before a closed doorway. Assuming it didn¡¯t go much further than that, I¡¯d be fine to walk it¡ªI had thirty feet of cable to go before I¡¯d be stuck.


    The door itself was something unexpected, as it looked like it would be more at home in some manor or stately residence. Ornately carved wood, lacquered and polished. I flexed my fingers as I stepped slowly toward it. The flashlight didn¡¯t pick up any traps, cameras, or anything out of place. Which was more worrying than anything.


    I placed my hand on the brass door handle and pushed, surprised that it wasn¡¯t locked. It moved smoothly on its hinges, a light flickering on automatically in the room beyond.


    My V-Force drive spooled down as I took in this new place. For all intents and purposes, it looked just like a lounge that would be behind such a door. I switched my gaze from the soft chairs and faux fireplace, over to a desk that held a computer. The tower was open, and important guts long torn out. There was a shelf half full of books, an open cabinet that looked as though it might have held liquor bottles, and a plain door on the opposite side.


    Inside my head, gears whirred away, struggling to gain purchase on any thoughts that made sense. This was¡­ a place that Boss had been staying? So close to the League, as well. It was briefly overwhelming. Was Boss one of the other pegs without a cross? My one squad ally?


    I shook away the questions, unsure if that sounded realistic, even if it was plausible.


    There didn¡¯t seem to be anything obvious in the room. Perhaps I wasn¡¯t meant to be down here. That said, Boss had always amused himself by stringing me along with things. I had just enough wire to explore the room, although I wouldn¡¯t be able to use the bathroom. With my eyes scouring the surroundings, I stepped across the carpeted floor slowly and pushed at the toilet door with my gun-arm.


    My flashlight illuminated a basic throne, the usual amenities and consumables expected. I didn¡¯t question how the plumbing worked down here. Par for the course.


    I left it be and returned to the surprisingly comfortable lounge. As I stepped over to the fireplace, I lifted the wire up so that it didn¡¯t catch on the chairs. There was a switch on the side of the brickwork to turn it on¡ªjust as I had first thought. It was just a fake fire. A radiator with the necessary lights and a holo-screen to give the appearance of flames. Whoever Boss really was, he certainly knew how to relax.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Not much of detective, I flicked the switch and suffered whatever consequences came my way.


    The flames and sounds of crackling wood appeared immediately, but a hollow clicking noise that repeated three times before going silent told me that the heating element of the fireplace was either broken or disabled. I furrowed my brow, expecting the hologram to change into a video message, or for a secret compartment to open up and deliver me some exposition.


    There was nothing so cliche.


    I switched it back off with a grunt and stood. Perhaps I¡¯d check out those books instead¡ªbeing cautious of how much time I had left down here. As I turned and stepped over to the shelf, the wire caught on one of the chairs, tipping it forward. I rolled my eyes and looked at the underside of the chair, expecting there to be something hidden. Maybe I was getting too used to Boss popping up where I least expected it, that I was turning him into some mythical trickster.


    Back to the books, and I was unsurprised to find that there were ten of them. Wincing at my lense, I instead decided to open up one of my pouches, which folded out to be a carrying bag. Gently, I placed each tome into it, leaving the shelf bare. A coincidence was a possibility, but given the rest of the room had been stripped of anything worthwhile, I knew better than to disregard the chance.


    The remaining cupboards, cabinets, and desk drawers were all totally empty. I even checked the undersides of everything, and for any secret compartments or switches. Nothing.


    With my questionable bounty secured, I returned to the way out. As the mechanism on my gauntlet wound the tense wire back in, I pressed my legs against the wall and awkwardly walked back up. Difficult when one arm was raised with the cable, and the other was a weapon that couldn¡¯t really grip onto anything.


    But I made it to the top. Quite done with the day, I shut the hatch and brought the table back over it. My synapse connection allowed me to activate the antidote in the rappel cylinder, causing the foam to rapidly deteriorate and melt away. Once it had returned to my arm, I picked the discarded sheet up and covered the diorama. It would be obvious that someone had come through here to those in the know, but I wanted to cover my bases.


    Stepping out into the daylight, I closed the padlock and made sure it was secure again. I glared around as I did so to see if I had been watched. Other than a few civilians and light traffic, it was pretty quiet.


    I took a deep breath and took my troubled mind off to see if my vehicle was ready.


    <hr>


    It turned out that seeing Roy do a good deed this morning had energized the body shop into doing the job at record speed. Having famous friends had some benefits. I had almost forgotten to grab some ice-cream, but other than a quick stop at a store, I went straight home. I¡¯d earned myself a bubble bath.


    As I pulled up closer to our house, my brow furrowed out to the wastes just beyond the reach of our properties. Some of the rocks there seemed to be on fire somehow, and there were wide patches of charred ground dotted about the place.


    I stopped at the workshop and hopped out; the super was sitting on a deckchair in her hero outfit with her eyes closed, but as I got closer, she didn¡¯t open them.


    [Are you¡­ okay there?]


    She looked terrible. My heart leaped into my neck as I realized her neck and face were burned¡ªa similar worn, pinkish color to when she had exerted her power through her arms.


    ¡°I think I fucked up a little, Dubs,¡± she said, barely whispering.


    [You didn¡¯t burn out your eyeballs, did you?]


    ¡°No.¡± She exhaled and deflated. ¡°I can¡¯t open them for a while, though.¡±


    I shook my head and looked back out to the apocalyptic state of the wastes just outside our living area.


    [What happened to keep it to your arms only?]


    She squirmed and seemed uncomfortable with both my question and how the movements felt to her damaged body. ¡°After seeing Roy this morning¡­ I know we¡¯re getting the band back together. I wanted to¡­ I need to catch back up.¡±


    [Since you can¡¯t see me, just imagine I look disappointed. A reckless leader is a short-lived one.]


    ¡°Piss off.¡± Roxy smiled, wincing as the burns hurt from the muscle movement. ¡°You¡¯re the one who put your balls on the table in front of Kingston.¡±


    [It didn¡¯t go that far, fortunately.]


    She groaned in lieu of a short laugh. ¡°Give me the details, you ass.¡±


    So I did. Told her about how I didn¡¯t really give away much information, only that I knew that they knew things about me. They¡¯d keep us safe with some assumed technology. In return, I¡¯d fit the role they were trying to push me toward on the sly. Roxy groaned again at this point, knowing that some of what we wanted was to break away from the League eventually¡­ but we had to play the long game.


    As middling B-Rankers, we weren¡¯t shifting any needles. If we could ascend and get more power and influence¡­ it would widen the doorway, even if only a crack.


    I then told her about the storage unit, and the fact that the key fit the lock.


    She was so surprised she briefly opened her eyes before squeezing them shut and hissing from the pain. ¡°Fuck. What did you find in there? More power? Answers?¡±


    [Hmm. My squad seemed to have a falling out, perhaps with two sides. I¡­ might have been the proponent of one of the groups. One other from this group still lives.]


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Roxy was silent for a moment. ¡°That means you have¡­ two potential enemies, still?¡±


    I shrugged, which she didn¡¯t see. The truth of it was that I didn¡¯t know. If they had survived whatever civil war had turned most of us into fertilizer, then maybe they¡¯d had a change of heart and were living decent lives. Would I even know any of them if I saw them? I was probably unrecognizable, something Boss had intended.


    [There are many more than just two who want me dead, I¡¯m sure. It¡¯s something for me to mull over, but doesn¡¯t immediately point me to anything¡­ I have nothing to gain from chasing shadows just yet.]


    ¡°Did he¡­ even want you to see that? I guess the diorama was for showing off, huh? If I was Boss, I¡¯d have more than one place to stay. Especially if the League was after my ass.¡±


    To have it so close to their headquarters, though¡­ Either he was confident in his ability and being obscure enough that they had no clue, or there was another connection that made them not a threat. I held up my hand and flexed my fingers. The puzzle pieces were becoming clearer, but I wasn¡¯t much closer to clicking them together.


    I had worked for the World Government as an engineered super solider to deal with those with actual super powers. After my chat with the Director, it sounded like the Gov was probably trying to get a wedge into the Goldarch territory and wanted something that could deal with the League¡¯s potential army of demi-gods. Some argument had come up within the squad, leading up to something where we had been killed off.


    Four managed to survive. I was found by Boss, who twisted me into being a secret ticking bomb. Probably knowing that I would eventually break through the walls he had placed around me for¡­ safety? Was the amnesia even natural or something he had forced on me? Plus, if he was backing my corner all this time¡­ then who was he to even want to rescue me and go through all this trouble?


    With a sigh, I pulled my hood back and picked my goggles up to rest on my balaclava. Then I rubbed my eyes. What a day.


    ¡°You sound stressed, babe.¡± Roxy stuck her leg out off the side of the chair so she could jab me with her toes. ¡°Gonna take it easy for the rest of the day?¡±


    [I was planning on running a bubble bath and coercing you to join with a tub of ice-cream, but it looks like I¡¯ll have to fly solo.]


    ¡°Nooo,¡± she squirmed and tried to open her eyes again, which she immediately regretted. ¡°Motherfucker! Feels like I rubbed nettles in my eyes.¡±


    [Are you sure they will recover fine?]


    Roxy nodded, hissing again as her neck burns crinkled. ¡°Don¡¯t ask how I know, but I do.¡±


    I looked down as she retracted her foot to see that it was burned as well.


    [How much of your body did you do?]


    It took her a few moments to respond. ¡°My¡­ whole body.¡±


    [You turned¡­ your whole body into lava?]


    A brief nod was the only response. It didn¡¯t take me long to imagine how much agony she must be in just sitting there. Aside from her forearms, she had been burned all over. Slowly healing it over, but it was still reckless.


    [I¡¯m surprised the super suit survived the process.]


    ¡°No. This is the third one. I had to run back to the house twice to change after they shredded and made me half naked.¡± She smirked, despite herself.


    [I was going to ask why you keep doing this when I¡¯m not here, but now I¡¯m demanding I¡¯ll be present next time.]


    Roxy exhaled through her nose. ¡°Flirt. You¡¯ll see it all when I¡¯ve healed over. I¡¯ll need you to check thoroughly to make sure I¡¯m all good.¡±


    Any further greasing the squeaky wheels was put on pause as I brought my goggles back down at the sound of a notification.


    //Clara: Gunquake. I tried to message Rockslide, but she didn¡¯t respond.


    //Clara: If you¡¯re both busy fornicating, then respond when you are able.


    //Clara: I¡¯m sure it will be a while, but I¡¯m patient.


    //Dubs: I am here, Clara.


    //Dubs: Roxy is resting from training a little too hard.


    //Clara: I¡¯m sure~


    //Clara: Just wanted to let you know I am staying late again today.


    //Clara: I am this close to getting a suitable mechanism for a grapple sorted.


    //Clara: It will be worth the wait, Gunquake. I don¡¯t mean to tease.


    //Dubs: Understood.


    //Dubs: I tested the rappel briefly today, no complaints.


    //Clara: That is comforting to know. We¡¯ll talk soon.


    [Clara is back late. Working hard on more tech for me.]


    ¡°Oh, yeah?¡± Roxy bit her lip. ¡°Just you wait until I¡¯m healed up, fucker. You should have heard the maniacal laugh I did when I reached full lava. Despite looking like a zombie right now, I am amped the fuck up.¡± She squirmed to prove the point.


    [I am already naked.]


    Her eyes opened before snapping shut, an immediate grimace on her face. ¡°Asshole! Now that¡¯s just mean.¡±


    I sat beside her and held her hand in mine. Any ire at my trick sank away to just annoyance at the pain she had put herself in. We had discussed how the League said I could skirt the edges of the law to get things done if it was for the benefit of them and Goldarch.


    Right now, Roxy was the weakest and most vulnerable I¡¯d ever seen her. This was probably the best chance I¡¯d ever get of killing her. My eyes looked her over as she continued to face out to the wastes with closed eyes. Given that we had an assassin on our doorstep last night, the fact that she had blinded herself and was unable to fight efficiently when alone was a little more reckless than I could ignore.


    It was the type of self-inflicted danger that would make her a liability to the squad. I lifted her hand up to press it against my re-breather. Her aching lips turned up into a soft smile.


    ¡°I really needed that kiss, Dubs. I¡¯m glad I have you around to guide me through all this. It¡¯s overwhelming, but the way you¡¯ve herded the fucking cats, it¡¯s helped me find my footing as well.¡±


    [Of course, Roxy. I love you. I¡¯ll be by your side through thick and thin.]


    ¡°Good. With us together, the world won¡¯t know what hit it.¡±


    I looked out to the city. It wasn¡¯t really a place I saw as being home. I¡¯d protect it when my job required it, and do what I could to make things better for people¡­ but it wasn¡¯t part of my soul. But this was. I turned my eyes to the sore super and the odd collection of buildings around where my shack used to be. This was home.


    And today I had done what I had to, to defend it. Made it our place of safety. With Ren¡¯s gift of ownership of the land, and the League promising to protect us, we could truly have a life here. Unconventional as shit, but sometimes love worked that way.


    It was with some warmth inside me that I shook my head. Some worries had lingered within my skull, a concern that Bard had been on the wrong side of whatever split the squad had. But knowing how I cared and drew people to be better together¡­ I found it hard to consider myself anything but a¡­


    I paused, as something blinked through my lense.


    Adrenaline rushed through me as I turned and spun on my feet, putting myself in front of the super.


    ¡°What? Everything okay, Dubs?¡±


    Overcharge spooled through my gun-arm as I ejected the unspent Tazer shot and loaded in a metal ball.


    [Somebody is approaching us from the wastes.]

 86 - Base Building

    I circled around Roxy to be her shield for whatever was approaching. She had squirmed and tried to get up, but I had admonished her and told her to stay put.


    ¡°Idiot,¡± she murmured. ¡°I¡¯m almost bulletproof. You¡¯re a walking disaster.¡±


    Her words fell on deaf ears as I glared out, a figure coming into view over to the right, opposite to the city. After my lens zoomed in and I clocked who it was, my arm lowered and I turned to crouch down beside the super.


    [Yet I would give my life to defend you. Even if it was your own careless decision that put you in this predicament.]


    ¡°Alright, ass.¡± Her brow furrowed over closed eyes. ¡°I get it. I was dumb. It¡¯s not someone dangerous though, right?¡±


    I gave her a few seconds of silent tension before answering.


    [It¡¯s the mute hobgoblin. He looks like shit. Must have walked all this way. Perhaps I¡¯ll feed him the ice-cream in front of you as punishment.]


    ¡°Dubs,¡± she whined. ¡°That¡¯s not fair. You can¡¯t torture me.¡±


    [You know, you¡¯re really pretty when you¡¯re at my mercy.]


    The super pouted and wrinkled up her burned nose. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not sure how to take that.¡±


    [We have company now, so I am unable to make any suggestions. Be right back.]


    I walked across the garden to meet up with the hobgoblin still shuffling himself through the heated sand a way off from our place of safety. A slight limp to his gait. I remembered that I had broken his leg in the scuffle. He was still dressed in his overalls, and from his knees down to his boots was covered with red dust. Pale eyes above his tusks looked tired and stressed. Probably wondering if I¡¯d just kill him now.


    He stopped and gave me a low bow before waiting for a response. I gestured him forward with my hand.


    [Greetings. I am glad you found me, although it can¡¯t have been easy.]


    The hobgoblin shook his head. The short tuft of hair like a flat mohawk was pasted to his skin with sweat. With a shaking hand, he lifted up a dirtied piece of paper. I took it and attempted to read the message.


    [This is pretty illegible. You came to get a new voice, correct?]


    He nodded eagerly.


    [I will keep my word, but you will have to wait. Please come sit with us.]


    His goat-like eyes turned to look past me at the lounging and rather crispy super. He was uncertain. It didn¡¯t take anyone with my level of social finesse to see that. With little other option, he relented and followed me over. I grabbed one of the garden chairs once we met the grass, and brought it over to the deckchairs.


    [He is here now. You will need to host our guest for a while.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± Roxy squirmed, but was unable to open her eyes. ¡°Why? Where are you going?¡±


    [I¡¯m going to get some ice water and cook you both some lunch. Do you have any special dietary considerations, friend?]


    The hob¡¯ looked at me blankly for a couple of seconds before shaking his head.


    I made the motions of walking, bringing my legs up and down - but I remained in place. Left hand came up, and I put my finger to where my lips would be. Confused, our guest nodded slowly.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Roxy began. ¡°You know, Dubs was the silent type when I first met him, too. Gunquake, I mean. You know him as that. Uh¡­ you must have walked far, huh?¡±


    The hobgoblin gave the super a blank look.


    ¡°Shit. I can¡¯t even see if you¡¯re replying. Serves me right, I guess.¡± She exhaled through her nose. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s do¡­ two taps for yes, three for no? You understand that?¡±


    After glancing at me for approval, he then tapped twice.


    ¡°Sick! We can make this work.¡±


    I snuck away, as quiet as I¡¯d ever been, while the super asked our guest a few yes or no questions about his general well-being. The same general acceptance as when she had met me, although a little less annoying. Any disdain I had for her recklessness was smothered by the heavy blanket of my feelings for her. Even that ire was partly put on. It was a terrible decision, but I had made plenty of my own. I shouldn¡¯t be a hypocrite.


    Perhaps I was just itchy for some combat again. I¡¯d solved the Snake issue in a way that benefited the team, even if it did lose us an illicit goods vendor. Drew out some concessions from the League so that we were on the same page. Found out a little more Bard lore. Now I had another work in progress with the hobgoblin. It wasn¡¯t just because I saw a little of us in him that I¡¯d made the offer to give him a voice.


    The cooking was wholly charitable, however. While Roxy would have been content enough to have me spoon-feed her ice-cream, our guest deserved a little better. Especially for making the distance on foot. It gave me time to decompress. Boss had gone through extensive steps to leave breadcrumbs for me to follow. He wanted me to know the truth, just not all at once.


    It was enough to know that I probably wasn¡¯t going to be friendly with the World Government. The faux assassin and placement of the safe made some sense now, perhaps. I wasn¡¯t sure if allying with the League was the way forward, but if those were the two sides then I¡¯d be standing beside the one full of superheroes.


    I hummed to myself as I cooked. It was more apparent that it was a connection to my past. The squad had enjoyed my meals, and I¡­ had loved food. I stared at the bubbling pot for a moment, suddenly very somber. Knowing that I couldn¡¯t taste or eat hadn¡¯t been an issue in my hitman era. Now that my life was opened wide up, I had a bit of everything a man could enjoy¡ªaside from food.


    If this was an intentional decision by Boss, then I hated him a little more. Maybe picking up this hobby and being able to taste things would bring back my old life too quickly. I had heard somewhere that certain smells or other senses could tie themselves to memories. Even if for pragmatic reasons, I resented the cruelty of it.


    Still, that didn¡¯t stop me from completing the stew. Not something I had made in the last five years, but it still came to me as if I had a recipe book just off to the side. Nothing quite like throwing whatever vegetables and meat together and turning it into hot mush. Less about the finesse and more about soothing the soul of the tired hobgoblin.


    Somehow I managed to carry two full bowls along with a pair of glasses of ice water out into the garden.


    [Sorry I took so long.]


    ¡°It¡¯s no problem, Dubs. Your cooking is always worth the wait.¡± Roxy turned her head toward me slightly, but she still remained blinded. ¡°Our pal here is quite the character.¡±


    [Is that so?]


    I raised an eyebrow as I handed him a bowl and glass. He had seemed more relaxed as I walked over, but in seeing the food, he practically melted. It was tough out in the wastelands, and I pretended I didn¡¯t see the shed tears. Instead, I handed the super hers, and she pouted at me again.


    ¡°Feed me, Dubs. And yeah, could you believe he is distantly related to the La¡¯quant Dynasty?¡±


    [I have no idea what that is.]


    ¡°Huh. Maybe that part of your brain is still locked away.¡± She opened her mouth expectantly for some stew chunks, but her need to continue the conversation had it moving again. ¡°It¡¯s taught pretty extensively, as one of the most important periods prior to technological advancement.¡±


    [I¡­ see.]


    ¡°C¡¯mon, Dubs. I¡¯m a dumbass and I know it. Down south by the coast, the La¡¯quant Dynasty was a gathering of goblins, hobs¡¯, orcs, and ogres. They had a big war with the Irongrip Kingdom. That¡¯s why those of dwarven ancestry are few and far between these days, despite winning the battle.¡± She gave our guest a nod. ¡°There¡¯s like four main lineages a hob can come from, and the La¡¯quant is the most uncommon.¡±


    [You can trace that over two hundred years?]


    My raised eyebrow just received a quick nod from the hobgoblin, as his focus was being spent almost entirely on not burning himself as he wolfed down the stew. No voice, but could eat and taste. I felt a little green.


    [You got all that from yes or no questions?]


    ¡°What can I say?¡± Roxy grinned and peeked at me through barely opened eyes. ¡°I¡¯m very good at getting what I want from people.¡±


    I rolled my eyes and brought up my chat window.


    //Dubs: Remember when I had you get a spare vocalizer?


    //Dubs: Guess who dropped in today.


    //Clara: I hope you realize I¡¯ve never done this before, Gunquake.


    //Clara: It¡¯s different when you¡¯re my first.


    //Clara: But the guilt if I harmed another¡­


    //Dubs: No pressure. It was my promise, and you don¡¯t have to facilitate.


    //Clara: No. We are as one.


    //Clara: It will be done, Gunquake, but I¡¯m still home late if the patient can wait.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.//Dubs: I¡¯ll keep him entertained. Thanks, Clara.


    Hopefully she wouldn¡¯t be too tired to do the deed tonight. I looked over at the hobgoblin, who had completely cleared the bowl¡ªwhile the super had been waiting with mouth open for me to give her some. I forked some over, before looking back at our guest.


    [The person who will be giving you the voice isn¡¯t back until later. It would probably be beneficial for you to be clean for the procedure, so I will run you a bath. Here, Roxy.]


    I placed the stew bowl in her hands, a grumpy expression on her wrinkly face.


    [You know where your mouth is.]


    While she murmured something under her breath, I led our guest up to the house. There was a secondary reason for this. I could spot the shape of vehicles coming from the city. Most likely the League with the requested safety features. Briefly, it amused me to think it might actually be something to kill us all of. A neat way of saving us from any future threats.


    I had already planned to shoo them off as soon as they had delivered the parts. Clara could set it up¡ªI trusted her a lot more than them. It went unspoken, but I knew the techie would want to dig through whatever we were given to look for any mechanism that might be feeding data back to the League. We wanted the dead zone to remain, even if the organization was letting us sleep easily.


    The hobgoblin followed me closely, looking all out of sorts to be taken into our house. If he had grown up in the wastes, then that dorm they had taken over and converted into a forge might have been the closest thing to a comfortable home he¡¯d ever known. Being alone and in the presence of two potentially dangerous strangers, it was no wonder he was nervous.


    Up and into the bathroom, I started it up and gave him a decent amount of the bubble juice. I could share.


    [I can wash your clothing as well, if you like. I¡¯m not sure we¡¯d have anything spare that would fit you.]


    He nodded, glancing between the filling bath and me. I averted my gaze as he stripped down, placing himself into the water, and exhaling deeply. While he had looked roughed up before, now with a full stomach and a warm bath, he was ready to pass out. Content, even if completely drained. I hit the taps a little early, not wanting to fill it too high in case he fell asleep and drowned.


    [Take as long as you need. There¡¯s a blue robe on the door you can wear after, although I¡¯m sure it¡¯s too large.]


    The hobgoblin gave me another nod, his eyes steaming up again. He made a sign across his chest, his finger circling his heart before making a fist.


    [You are welcome.]


    I left him to enjoy the clean and went back outside to deal with the super. While she was expected here, I wasn¡¯t sure how the League goons would act on seeing her all burned up. In saying that - she was looking better since I had first arrived home.


    ¡°Fucking great stew, Dubs.¡± She smiled up at me, her eyes open a crack. ¡°Any chance I can hire you full time to cook for me?¡±


    [Certainly. I don¡¯t take payment in credits, however.]


    ¡°Ohhh?¡± She leaned toward me and raised an eyebrow. ¡°I am sure we could come to some arrangement. Once I¡¯m-¡±


    [Like, I could really do with murdering someone. You know anyone I could kill?]


    Roxy paused, taking a few moments to drink in my response, before she deflated. ¡°No, you asshole. Don¡¯t regress into being a madman again.¡±


    [I was never mad.]


    ¡°Nah, you were. How many times have you almost died?¡± She held up her empty bowl for me to take.


    [Near misses don¡¯t count. I only care about actual deaths.]


    ¡°Psh. Fuck off.¡± She smiled. ¡°I guess our plans have changed a little since we¡¯re entertaining our new friend. I wonder what his name even is.¡±


    I shrugged and turned to put her bowl over on the garden table. There were a lot of questions that I had, and it would be nice to have them answered once Clara was successful in installing the vocalizer in the hobgoblin. I had been lucky as I already had the necessary tech in my neck ready and waiting for once to be placed there. He¡¯d need to have that surgery and I wasn¡¯t too sure how invasive it was.


    My gaze went over to the workshop, wondering if there was anything I could prep for her. We needed a¡­ proper medical unit. Something separate and sterile. No doubt I¡¯d be getting injured again soon enough, and it was a miracle that we had managed to replace my ribs in the dining room without my getting any long-term problems.


    So much to do and so little time.


    [You cannot see them yet, but the League is coming to deliver their promised protection.]


    ¡°Yeah? Shit.¡± She squinted out at the city, but it was unlikely she¡¯d be able to spot much. ¡°Care to help your lady into the house so I don¡¯t look like I¡¯m having issues?¡±


    [It would be my pleasure. There¡¯s even more stew on low heat ready for you¡­ and if you¡¯re good, your favorite ice-cream in the freezer.]


    Roxy bit her lip as I helped her up to her aching feet. ¡°Damnit, Dubs. We should have met much sooner in life.¡±


    [We met exactly when we needed to. If circumstances were different, we wouldn¡¯t be where we are now.]


    Any earlier in my hitman life and perhaps I wouldn¡¯t have been swayed over to the light. We had both found each other in a rut and worked our way out. Together. It wasn¡¯t a romanticism or my views on fate or destiny that led me to this conclusion, things just¡­ happened the way they did.


    ¡°You¡¯re probably right. But I¡¯m glad we did when we did, you know?¡± She hissed as her burned soles crinkled on the wooden patio. ¡°We might have been shuffled into this position by the asshole bigwigs, but I don¡¯t think what we have is¡­ it¡¯s not fake, right?¡±


    [It¡¯s unconventional, perhaps. It¡¯s not fake.]


    ¡°Good.¡± She smiled and gave me a brief hug, mostly with her arms as I helped her lower herself onto one of the kitchen stools. ¡°I¡¯m not usually this clingy and shit. Maybe I need to murder something as well?¡±


    [It¡¯s a date.]


    Roxy shook her head. ¡°That should not excite me.¡±


    [I¡¯ll yell if there are any issues.]


    I brought her hand up to give it another faux kiss against my re-breather, which was enough reassurance for her to accept my departure. Back out into the garden, I sighed. Even when there wasn¡¯t violence, things seemed to happen at breakneck speed.


    There was no doubt in my mind that once I was a fully fledged hero and part of the team, things would slow down. The World Government would be more hesitant to come after me with the League of Heroes officially behind my back. I¡¯d have to work and go on patrols and League mandated missions. It sounded¡­ terrible, to some degree.


    Mostly because I had wanted to break away from being a tool and find my own freedom, but at least this was my choice. I also knew the League wanted to use me for more than just the basic missions they gave most of the supers. I had been a damn good tool, and would be wasted strolling the streets looking for thugs to beat up.


    Too early to start believing I was a lynchpin in this whole Goldarch power-play, however. I was still just one man who had skirted death a little too often. No point getting too big for my boots just yet. First issue was getting my trials completed, and then picking the team up from bottom of the rankings.


    The rebranding would do just that, I was sure. I was a bubbling cauldron of things in progress. Just being gatekept by my standing, finances, or time.


    My gaze went over to the workshop where the computer was still running through the encrypted drive. With some time to spare before the vans arrived, I went and had a look. Sixty-eight percent complete.


    I stared at it for a moment, as if it would speed up under duress, but it remained cycling through the short animation that implied it was working away.


    Pretty tough to crack. Boss must not have wanted me to get whatever was on it too soon after realizing that I had been Bard. How soon was I supposed to find my skeletal arm holding the key and the storage unit?


    It was bizarre. He would have had to place the arm and key not long after my surgery, before I was sent out into the field. The key was probably just to a generic padlock, that he only decided what to do with long after I was working on contracts. A little foresight that ending up turning into a treasure hunt, where all I got was sharp pains from my traumatic past.


    He¡¯d always wanted me to find out, eventually. Maybe letting me cool off and adjust so that I didn¡¯t sprint into my second death, going after whoever had killed me the first time. The squad or the Gov, I assumed. My memories were too hazy, and clues given to me too vague to say for certain. It was aggravating¡­ but in a passive, slow-burning way.


    Exactly as he intended. I would sooner or later approach the truth with a level head. With allies and experience. Strength and knowledge to fully deal with the fallout of my past. He was still an asshole, but at least he had a plan.


    I stepped out and closed the workshop door just as the vehicles were coming to pull up a short distance from my yard. With a deep breath, I walked up over to them. Metal ball still loaded into my gun-arm, and the selectloader mechanisms tense to give me a follow-up answer to any unexpected questions.


    A figure stepped out the front of the first of three vans. Dark skin, short hair speckled with gray, and a deep green uniform that had ''League of Heroes'' written on it. He nodded as he walked over to meet me.


    ¡°Gunquake? Senior Equipment Manager, Howard Rhoades.¡± He held out his right hand to be shaken, before realizing and switched to his left. ¡°Please provide me the security code you were given by the Director.¡±


    I shook his hand and glanced past him. If it weren¡¯t for the logos on the uniforms, and lack of weaponry, I would have assumed this was a military unit. The deep green outfits certainly gave that appearance, as did the almost regimental and practiced manner in which they all left their vehicles and went to get ready to unload once given the all-clear.


    [Seven-five-three-eight-three.]


    ¡°Confirmed.¡± He gave me a brisk nod. ¡°Installation should only take half an hour at most.¡±


    [Actually, I would like to do it myself.]


    Howard maintained his composure, but I could tell that he wasn¡¯t expecting that¡ªand didn¡¯t like it either.


    ¡°With all due respect, Gunquake¡­ this is delicate and complex technology. With our expertise it-¡±


    [Trust me. You can check with Director Kingston.]


    He gave a single, slow nod. ¡°One second.¡± Withdrawing a radio-like device, he turned and stepped away to the side of his van.


    There was a second reason I didn¡¯t want them snooping about. The presence of our hobgoblin friend was to be a secret. Roxy would know this and stop our guest if he left his bath early. Even if the Director had given me a longer leash than others, it didn¡¯t mean I was keen to have them snooping about all my private business.


    I wanted that hobgoblin forge on my side. Paired with the mutant outpost able to mine up materials, I¡¯d have a bit more control over my own life and what was available to me. Plus, if the League ever crossed us, having a drum full of the Sanguine stake alternatives would have me on even ground.


    After a brief murmured conversation, the Equipment Manager turned back and shot me a humorless smile. Clearly, his arm had been twisted.


    ¡°That will be no problem, Gunquake.¡± He raised a hand and gave a gesture to his group, and they started to unpack things from the back of the van. ¡°I¡¯ll just need you to sign off on a few things.¡±


    [It¡¯d be my pleasure.]


    It wasn¡¯t. But after five minutes of going over the paperwork, all the boxes had been put on the ground to the side. With another handshake, the man and his three vans departed, turning back to the city. I watched them leave for a few minutes, before deflating.


    I turned my head to see the super walking out and over to me. Slowly, with a grimace on her face and eyes only half open. The hobgoblin in a blue silken robe followed cautiously behind her.


    ¡°Fuck, Dubs. I hope you¡¯re good at reading instruction manuals.¡±


    With a grunt, I felt tired just looking at the dozen or so boxes. Perhaps letting them do the deed would have been better. If Clara was coming back to do surgery later, then she wouldn¡¯t have the energy to do all this - but we wanted it up as soon as possible.


    [The Director was at least good on his word. This equipment is¡­ it will keep us safe.]


    ¡°Yeah? To what degree?¡± She came up and stood beside me, leaning against my arm gently.


    [All of them. Imagine the dome that Erin creates, but it can actually read people. In an intelligent way, not just displaying changes in certain values. There is a mode where only bio-coded individuals are allowed into the dome. Anyone else is¡­ shot.]


    ¡°Non-lethally, right?¡± She glared at the boxes.


    [Hmm. Yes, it focuses on debilitation. There are four static sentries for each corner of our property. One larger anti-air cannon. Two patrolling drones, and several ground-pins that tie into the information that not only facilitates the central unit scan, but we can also feed Erin¡¯s data into it.]


    ¡°Shitting hell. Seriously? We¡¯d be locked up tighter than anywhere in the city.¡± Roxy pulled away from me to look around our housing area.


    [Within a week I¡¯m sure we will have several more buildings, and more things to protect.]


    She whistled, returning her gaze to me. ¡°Looks like your gamble paid off.¡±


    [They always do, Roxy. I only bet on guaranteed wins.]


    ¡°Mmm. That¡¯ll work, until it doesn¡¯t.¡± Her arm wrapped around my lower back. ¡°Then what?¡±


    I raised my eyebrow at her, before looking back at the awkwardly out-of-place hobgoblin. It was quite the question. One I¡¯d known the answer to for a long while.


    [Then I¡¯ll get what I deserve.]

 87 - Finding your Voice

    By the time we had unpacked and arranged all the boxes of protective tech, Roxy was all but healed up. Her eyes were still red¡ªmore than they usually were¡ªbut her skin was less crispy and had almost gone back to her usual tone. The hobgoblin had looked uncomfortable watching us remove some of the parts that looked like weaponry, so we had set him up to watch some movies inside instead.


    Something he was enamored with almost immediately.


    ¡°You sure you have those instructions the right way up?¡± the super asked, hands on hips and with a scowl leveled my way.


    After having rearranged the four turret-like defensive sentries for the third time, she was beginning to doubt my competency. We had agreed to at least get some of the tech in the right place even if the more difficult work would need Clara¡¯s capable brain.


    [You are more than welcome to read them, assuming you can read.]


    Her mouth opened in surprise. ¡°You motherfucker. I can see you¡¯re just trying to goad me into using my powers, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    [Perhaps you are projecting.]


    ¡°I¡¯ll project your head halfway to the city in a minute, Dubs.¡± She rolled her eyes and allowed my jab to wash away completely. ¡°I¡¯m still shocked the League even went this far.¡±


    I nodded, but didn¡¯t have anything to add. It was a lot for a hitman and his odd group. Then again, I was much more than that now¡ªall of this just tangible evidence that the League wanted me on their side. Or at least thought I might be useful against the Gov.


    Not that I¡¯d be getting a totally free ride to the top, but I was skirting some tradition. An oddity that some greener heroes might take some offense over. Let them. I didn¡¯t fear opposition from most. Nothing in the range of B-Ranks, anyway. Even less so when the team was back together.


    As if thinking it into being, a message came through.


    //Roy: You fucking genius, Dubs.


    //Roy: Just got out of a meeting.


    //Roy: I¡¯m back in business from tomorrow.


    //Dubs: Glad to hear it, Roy.


    //Roy: I owe you one, big guy.


    //Dubs: We¡¯ll celebrate soon, just have some spinning plates to deal with.


    I turned to Roxy, who had taken the instructions from me, yet looked more confused than before.


    [Roy has been reinstated.]


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Her eyes switched from the useless diagrams and up to me, her expression immediately improving. ¡°I¡¯m starting to worry that you were right about only gambling on sure wins. Your track record is flawless.¡±


    I ignored the flashing images of the several times I had come close to dying in the last month. She was entirely correct.


    [That¡¯s just something to say to give myself the confidence to take risks.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t shatter the illusion, babe.¡± She wrinkled up her face and waved the instruction booklet back at me. ¡°I¡¯m growing tired of this bullshit.¡±


    It had taken us a few hours, and it was growing close to dusk. No update on how late Clara would be getting back, but I didn¡¯t think she¡¯d want to do either the tech installation or surgery under the cover of nightfall. All three of us would be a few shades grumpier, having to rearrange everything in the dark as well. Still, this was safety.


    [Let¡¯s take a break and wait for the one with all the brain cells to come back first, then.]


    ¡°Deal.¡± She held her hand out for me to take. ¡°A little swing seat time?¡±


    [You had me at ¡®babe¡¯.]


    While she rolled her eyes, she took me over to the garden and we sat down on the swing. Comforting. I relaxed almost immediately, my muscles giving up as soon as I¡¯d settled.


    ¡°If the League doesn¡¯t give you a mission tomorrow, did you want to go beat something up in the wastes?¡± Roxy rested her head against my shoulder.


    [Oh? I certainly wouldn¡¯t be opposed to that.]


    ¡°I¡¯m almost at the point where I could come back off ¡®sick leave¡¯, but I want more practical experience with my power before the League starts ordering me about.¡± She exhaled. ¡°A little bit of freedom, you know?¡±


    I did. For the most part, it had almost felt as though she had been keeping her powers secret from me. There must be more to it than just turning her skin to lava, and I was curious as to how she looked¡ªand how it must have felt¡ªto turn her whole body into the molten rock. Hopefully she¡¯d be able to get a new suit that didn¡¯t melt. There were a couple of fire-based supers on the list, so I didn¡¯t doubt it was possible.


    Once she was comfortable and told the League she was ready, it was then just down to me. I was sure I¡¯d ace the next mission, so if the Director was able to pull some strings, then I¡¯d be a hero in no time at all. Part of the team. Ready for our rebranding that I¡¯d push for. And then¡­


    Play by the rules, even if bending some of them. Slowly get the answers I sought while staying alive. Enjoy my time with my new friends. Be happy. Kick Roxy¡¯s ex in the balls. All important to me now.


    [You¡¯re the leader, Roxy. What will be your first instructions once we are whole?]


    She was silent for a few moments before leaning back to look at me. ¡°A good leader knows when to take advice from those smarter than them. I¡¯m a good rallying flag, but you¡¯ve got the brains for this sort of thing.¡± Roxy poked me with a finger. ¡°I¡¯m delegating the tactical progression shit to you, okay?¡±


    [Suits me. Very pragmatic of you.]


    ¡°Me having an ego about it will just get us fucked over again.¡± With a sigh, she deflated against me. ¡°I failed them once, and you put everyone back together. You could lead us. I know this. I know you¡¯re not keeping me as the leader out of pity, but I will still earn my place at the head.¡±


    [We¡¯ll need regular team training sessions. I want you to help me push the League to have us all branded as anti-heroes.]


    I heard her suck at her teeth. ¡°Might be a tough sell. Not just with the League, but the guys as well. Ren and Belle aren¡¯t exactly that kind of asshole. Roy would normally be a decent fit for that, but the boy-scout show this morning paints him as too nice.¡±


    [It won¡¯t be easy, certainly. If you stand by my side, we can do anything.]


    ¡°I believe that. Sure, then. Let¡¯s be the best assholes Goldarch ever saw.¡±


    After a few moments of leaving that odd sentence hang in the air, we felt into a contented silence. The sun was slowly setting, and although the technology wasn¡¯t set up and active, I felt safer. Part of it was the knowledge that the League of Heroes and the World Government were at odds, and I was a piece of that puzzle. For better or worse, I was a valuable asset.


    As the world got darker, our garden lights switched on. Roxy went inside the house for a snack and to grab me a chilled canister, returning with a smile as our guest had fallen asleep on the couch. Another half an hour of just swinging gently, and the sight of Clara¡¯s van appeared off down the road from the city.


    ¡°I have a feeling this will be a long night,¡± Roxy said. ¡°I don¡¯t know shit about surgery, so once I¡¯m done moving the sentries about I¡¯m going to have a bath.¡±


    [I will see how much help Clara requires of me.]


    The super raised an eyebrow and looked out at the small dots of light approaching. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll need you for every part of the process.¡± She turned back to me to smile, and she patted me on the leg. ¡°Just save some energy for when you come to bed, okay?¡±


    [Understood. I think I¡¯m going to get changed out of my outfit.]


    By the time I had switched into a hooded top and shorts, Clara had pulled up. I kept my goggles on, just in case I got a message through my lens, but I put them up on my forehead. Down in the lobby, the hobgoblin stepped out, woken by the noise of the van and nervous. Perhaps even more so in seeing me in casual clothes.


    [Your doctor has arrived. Do not fret.]


    Somehow, that message didn¡¯t seem to soothe his disposition as much as I had hoped. Maybe my Calm Emotions aura was a little rusty¡ªor he¡¯d be in an even worse state without me here. It didn¡¯t really matter at present, and I led him out into the garden where Roxy was making an attempt to explain all the various tech parts to Clara.


    ¡°Gunquake,¡± the techie said, looking over as I approached. ¡°It¡¯s not every day a girl is brought home to a mountain of some of the League¡¯s best tech. Oh, and a new test subject too. You do spoil me.¡±


    [I¡¯m sure he would prefer to be called a ¡®patient¡¯. This is Clara, she is very competent and has saved my life with her skill.]


    ¡°So much flattery, and just after Rockslide added two new things to the list, as well.¡±


    ¡°There is no list,¡± the super interjected.


    Clara rolled her eyes and gestured toward the workshop. ¡°Best if we do this immediately, while I still have the momentum. Sister, if you could place the machinery in the following arrangement¡­¡± With a pen withdrawn from her pocket, she made a rough map of our property and where she wanted the sentries and various parts to go.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    After taking the booklet back, Roxy groaned. ¡°That¡¯s how we had them at first.¡±


    ¡°And as for you, Gunquake.¡± Clara turned and pointed the pen at me. ¡°I¡¯m in need of an assistant with a steady hand and willingness to do anything I ask.¡±


    [And then we¡¯ll do the surgery after?]


    She paused briefly before scowling at me. ¡°Don¡¯t lean into it, Gunquake. It takes all the fun out. Keep your head focused on the task. Our patient¡¯s life is on the line.¡±


    The hobgoblin had all but recoiled, almost hiding behind me at this point. Probably wondering if this whole thing was a mistake. Potentially, it was. He¡¯d reached the point of no return though, and as Clara walked past me and coaxed him to follow along, I felt a little¡­ sad?


    I hadn¡¯t had the choice when I was given mine. In fact, as far as I was currently aware, my voice was only taken to hide my identity. Certainly, Boss had always offered to give me a vocalizer¡ªwhich might have just been due to guilt. There was still a part of me that¡­ seethed, almost. As much as I could be thankful that my life had been saved, the manner in which I had been put together left a sour taste in my lack of a mouth.


    Before following the techie, I turned to the grumbling Roxy and brought her in for a hug.


    ¡°You alright, Dubs?¡± She moved her face away to look at me.


    [Yeah.]


    Her eyes narrowed, not entirely believing me, but she gave me a nod and a peck on the re-breather. ¡°Go do the thing, you soft sack pretending to be an anti-hero.¡±


    [You don¡¯t think I¡¯m bad enough?]


    She shook her head as we moved apart. ¡°Same reason I fell for you. You got a golden heart somewhere in that metal rib cage. I can see right through you, motherfucker.¡±


    I shuddered at the thought, but made the show of blowing her a kiss as I departed - an act earning me a soft smile from the super. Was she right? As I walked my way over to the workshop, I wasn¡¯t entirely sure I saw myself in the same light that she did.


    She¡¯d seen me kill without a thought on numerous occasions. I was a murderer. An executioner that didn¡¯t even care for the pay¡ªthe only thing I got out of it. For someone who supposedly judged people more through their actions rather than words, she¡¯d missed some key context clues that I was a dangerous and deplorable person.


    Was that true now? I paused at the doorway and looked back at her as she lifted one of the heavy sentries to move it a few dozen feet over.


    I understood it, to some degree.


    She was envious of the freedom I had. Even if my strength was far lower than hers, I had just gone out and used it¡ªignoring that it was for murder¡ªand had nobody to stop me. For someone who was tied down to the rules of the League, her envy had drawn her closer to me. Our first plans together were to break away from all this.


    Somewhere amongst all the bullshit and near-deaths, we had found a more realistic common ground, an actual love and respect for each other. I also knew she partially wished she had the freedom to straight up murder people. She¡¯d never admit it, because she actually had proper ties to functioning civilization¡­ but she had agreed to go punch something in the wastes. I had seen how she took apart the mutants at the outpost.


    There was a chance that she had been a villain in the making.


    I shook my head. There was no need to paint those closest to me so drably. The door of the workshop opened up and I stepped in. The hobgoblin was now laying on his front, a white sheet covering his body from his midsection downwards. Clara had an apron and facemask on, a metal tray to her side full of tools and a few pieces of tech.


    ¡°He¡¯s already out cold,¡± she said, as I closed the door. ¡°He looked worried, so I jabbed him when he wasn¡¯t looking.¡±


    Although that sounded like a breach of some manner of ethics, this whole surgery was illegal and off the records, so I just nodded along with her statement.


    [What do you request of me?]


    ¡°Come and stand over here.¡± She gestured to beside the tray. ¡°Do exactly as I say when I say it. Without a full operating theater set up, the chance of this succeeding is lowered significantly. With your assistance, we can alleviate that risk by a significant degree, but you must take this seriously.¡±


    [I will give you my all.]


    ¡°I know, Gunquake. My harsh frankness is not a reflection on you, but of how seriously I take my work. As soon as I make my first incision, you are no longer Gunquake. You are Clara¡¯s third hand and second pair of eyes. Am I understood?¡±


    [Completely.]


    While usually a conversation that would be ripe for her to throw in some flirty additions, she did not. She held the scalpel in her hand as she waited for me to get in position, and I could tell her mind was wholly on the process before her. Two screens had been set up, each relaying different information about the surgery required. A small stack of books was on the shelf behind her, a large one already opened up to a certain page.


    Most people didn¡¯t take up dangerous and delicate surgery as a hobby, but the techie had prepared for this as much as she was able.


    I gave her a nod to signal I was ready, my goggles coming down. My lens ran through a scan, giving me the names of each of the tools and pieces of tech she had laid out. Ready to highlight them at her request. It wasn¡¯t a function I¡¯d ever had a use for previously, and I was half certain she had installed it specifically for this purpose.


    With held breath, she leaned toward the hobgoblin and made the first incision on the back of his neck.


    And from that point onwards, I held up my side of the bargain. Symbiosis. I kept a clear head, not distracted by anything for a change. Anything she needed, I was there. A tool once more, but by choice. Her nerves washed away after the first five minutes. Together, we made no mistakes.


    It may have taken an hour or so, but it felt like ten minutes at most. She drew out the final stitch, and I padded the last of the blood away.


    Clara pushed the tray to the side, throwing her gloves and mask upon it, before turning to me with a bright smile. Before I had the time to say anything, she came in and gave me a tight hug.


    [It went well, I assume?]


    ¡°Oh, yes.¡± She pulled away and sighed. ¡°You were perfect, Gunquake. I mean, I was perfect too¡ªbut your assistance really made the difference. It will take the patient a little while to recover still, but it was successful.¡±


    [I am relieved. It looked like it works slightly different to mine.]


    Clara nodded eagerly, glad that the stressful part was over and she could now gush over the technical part of the process. ¡°There will be a vocalizer box that affixes to the back of his neck, the same as yours. As he still has the biological parts required, there was no need for a port¡ªeverything is internal¡ªand it will sync up with his mouth movements naturally.¡±


    [So it will look like he is actually talking?]


    ¡°Indeed, Gunquake.¡± With a content look on her face, she pulled over a chair and sunk into it. ¡°That was quite the ordeal. I will monitor him until he comes to.¡±


    [You must be hungry. I can make you some toast?]


    She bit her lip and glanced at the door. ¡°If I could be so bold, could you make me those pancakes again?¡±


    [Of course, Clara. You need only ask.]


    ¡°I¡¯m sure Rockslide is eager to have you back, but I could also use your assistance with getting the defenses up and running.¡±


    I gave her a nod as I went toward the door. My eyes could use a break as well. I hadn¡¯t realized how focused I had been.


    [Roxy will not mind. We tried earlier, and she had no chance of getting it up, so your hands will have to work their magic again.]


    I left the techie to snort and shake her head as I stepped out into the cool air. It had gotten stuffy in the small workshop room. When we eventually got a medical unit, we¡¯d have to spring for some air conditioning or something with better ventilation. My eyes roved around the garden, as if I¡¯d pick up more assassins trying to take advantage of the fact we weren¡¯t quite prepared yet.


    But there was nothing.


    Back in the house, I was moderately surprised to see Roxy in the kitchen. Then again, the surgery had taken a lot longer than expected, so she¡¯d probably taken her bath already¡ªa thought partially validated by the fact that she was in her bathrobe, and looked clean.


    ¡°Everything go okay?¡± she asked, trying to slide the ice-cream tub behind her so that I didn¡¯t see it.


    [So far, so good. Waiting for him to wake up to connect the vocalizer and make sure he can use it.]


    ¡°Do you know what voice Clara picked out?¡±


    I shook my head. The thought hadn¡¯t really crossed my mind. But now I was curious. The super stood up in front of me while my mind was busy and put her arms around my waist.


    ¡°You know if the defenses will take long to erect?¡± She raised her eyebrows expectantly.


    [No time at all. You seem¡­ impatient.]


    Roxy pouted and looked over to the window. ¡°I tried to do a little gym before the bath, but my body is shattered even though my skin is looking fine. I¡¯m weak and needy.¡±


    [Best you rest and don¡¯t exert yourself at all tonight, then. If you want to be ready to fight something tomorrow.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t you try to deny me.¡± Her eyes narrowed at the workshop. ¡°Say, how long will Clara be in there?¡±


    [Not long enough for what you deserve. Hey.]


    I put my hand up to her face as she turned back to me, and I ran my fingers along her cheek to hold her.


    [You¡¯re very important, you know. You need to take better care of yourself.]


    She smiled. ¡°You mean I can¡¯t rely on you?¡±


    As much as it would be pragmatic to tell her that one day I might not be around to do that, I didn¡¯t want to dampen the mood. The super was much stronger than me, so once she got her head around to being a good hero for the League again, things would go well for her, with or without me. In some ways, I had that in the back of my mind. My legacy, if you could call it that.


    My past was dark and dipped in criminal actions. The handful of people I had gotten close to were assholes, but nowhere close to the baggage I had weighing me down. Should I finally have that catch up to me, I wanted them to be better from having met me. It was¡­ what they deserved for accepting me.


    [I will always steer you in the right direction. Like now, you need to move a little to the left so I can cook pancakes.]


    Roxy wrinkled her face up, but gave my palm a kiss before we parted. ¡°Can I get in on that action as well?¡±


    [I see you have the ice-cream out at the ready. Of course.]


    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Tell our guest he can have the couch for the night. There¡¯s spare bedding and stuff in the closet. Send me a message when my pancakes are done, otherwise I¡¯m going to go chill in bed¡­ all alone¡­ and naked.¡± She wiggled her eyebrows as she passed me, eyes lingering on me.


    [Well, be careful you don¡¯t catch a cold.]


    She gave me the middle finger and a smile as she left for the stairs. As much as I enjoyed her attention, cooking time was sacred, and I¡¯d have plenty to do with getting the defenses working before I could rest easy. I was thankful the League¡¯s turnaround time had been near instant, and felt slightly foolish for not letting their people set it up. It would be up and running if that was the case, and then I could overpower and kill Roxy. Romantically.


    Even as the smells of the cooking wafted through my re-breather, there was still the stink of my past clouding my thoughts on occasion. It was just something intrusive. Killing supers was soaked into my very being. A thought that melted away as I completed the meal. I wasn¡¯t sure what kind of pancakes the hobgoblin would like, so just made him the basic.


    Message sent to Roxy. I then took the plates over toward the workshop, giving the empty darkness around the buildings a glare. Soon I wouldn¡¯t need to.


    I pushed open the door and was surprised to see the hobgoblin sitting up, the vocalizer on his neck. Clara sat in front of him, a smug look on her face.


    [It went well?]


    ¡°Of course, Gunquake,¡± the techie took the plate from me, and nodded toward our guest. ¡°Why don¡¯t you say thank you, Teeba?¡±


    The hobgoblin¡ªapparently called Teeba¡ªturned a sheepish grin toward me, eyes wide in seeing the food I had prepared. ¡°Thank you, Gunquake,¡± he said. The voice was¡­ in a word, aristocratic almost. Posh and educated sounding, a total juxtaposition to how he looked. ¡°You have made good on your word.¡±


    [Of course. How do you feel?]


    ¡°Not normal. This change will take time to get used to.¡± He nodded along, but his eyes were focused on the food.


    [You¡¯re welcome to spend the night on the couch. I have something to discuss with you tomorrow, and walking home in the dark is not advisable.]


    ¡°He will need monitoring anyway,¡± Clara added. ¡°Just a checkup before we send him away.¡±


    Teeba glanced between the techie and me, before lifting a pancake up to observe it. ¡°For the help given, I am in your debt. Whatever you ask.¡±


    [I¡¯ll escort you both to the house so you can rest properly.]


    Clara stood up. ¡°Such a gentleman. I should have let you know, so you didn¡¯t have to bring the plates out, Gunquake.¡±


    I nodded, and helped Teeba to his feet, allowing him to put his weight on my arm. Oddly concerning voice aside, I was glad that the procedure went well. One step closer to winning over their forge to doing my bidding.


    We made it a dozen slow steps before I stopped on the soft grass.


    ¡°Everything okay, Gunquake?¡± Clara asked, turning to see why I had paused.


    My eyes went out to the city.


    [You need to take Teeba and tell Roxy to keep you both safe.]


    ¡°What?¡± She put her plate down on the garden table and stepped over to take the hobgoblin from me. ¡°Is there something wrong?¡±


    My hand, unburdened by our guest, moved up to hold the charm around my neck. Not only was it warm, but words filtered through my head. Intrusive thoughts that repeated the same short phrase over and over.


    [Belle is in trouble. I need to go.]

 88 - Web Support

    The quake-wagon shifted gears automatically as it rocketed down the road toward the city. My hand gripped at the steering wheel tighter, far too many thoughts circling my mind like a whirlwind.


    Roxy had wanted to go. That was only natural, but she didn¡¯t have the strength to even do her usual leaps. Despite her knowing this, she had still scowled at me. Some understandable frustration, both at not being able to help, and knowing that she put herself in this situation. Without the defenses set up, I needed her there to maintain the fort.


    After a manic rush, Clara had helped me get all suited up. Backpack and all. She even had the time to affix my new grappling attachment, albeit hastily. Two caveats to its usage - it would start to retract as soon as the foam had adhered to something, and I was still limited to three uses in the current rappel head.


    She had given me a refill of the necessary juices to reload it, but since it was on the back of my only hand, there wasn¡¯t much chance of me being physically capable of doing the deed. Once I had loaded up with whatever mags I could easily grab without too much fuss, I had gotten in my vehicle and left them clambering around in the workshop so that they could watch me. Teeba had no clue what was going on, but had become a part of the active audience, nonetheless.


    And all that to say, we didn¡¯t exactly know what was going on.


    The charm Belle had given me had remained warm, and repeated the same phrase through my head. Help, it requested, followed by a shorthand address in the city. With the information coming via this necklace rather than our STAR chat, I jumped to the assumption that there was something preventing Belle from accessing the normal technology we all used.


    We had briefly debated involving the League. It would be practical. The sensible option. Part of the reason we decided not to get them on the case was they might mess things up, or take a dim view of another one of our struggling team getting into trouble.


    The other reason was just my selfish ego.


    I wanted to be the one who saved the day. To crush those foolish enough to put my friends in danger. I ached to sharpen my true craft. Killing. Without the League breathing down our necks, I was free to step into whatever trouble had befallen Belle and eradicate everyone. There was a drum full of solid metal balls on my hip, just eager for their test run against soft targets.


    //Clara: Three more blocks and you¡¯ll be approaching the building.


    //Clara: Stay safe. I will switch to tight comms once you arrive.


    //Dubs: Understood.


    We had also discussed asking Roy or Ren for help. While I wanted the team to come together, it again circled back to the fact that this was off the record. Roy wasn¡¯t quite reinstated yet, and I didn¡¯t know enough about what Ren was capable of. If we turned up together and got in over our heads with villains or bad publicity, it could fuck the team for good.


    I slowed the vehicle and parked up a little way off from the target location. It wasn¡¯t somewhere any of us recognized. Not the place of Belle¡¯s church, financier, or her home. A three story building that looked like a museum or private college. Modern architecture that didn¡¯t quite scream manor, but was clearly a place of wealth. Plenty of windows aglow with light. Enough hints that told me what might have happened here.


    With my gear secured, I stepped out of the quake-wagon and immediately sunk into the shadows of a nearby alleyway. Old habits died hard. The drone unclipped from the backpack and started to hover up beside me.


    //Clara: Online. At your command.


    //Dubs: Scout the rooftop when we are close.


    //Clara: Affirmative.


    If they had enough power to lock Belle down, then I doubted I¡¯d be able to waltz in through the front door. That said, it depended on what sort of setup was going on - why they had contained her and with what. Given that she was our support hero, I had some doubts that they had managed to hurt her, but the thought still drove rods of anger through my core.


    //Clara: Map shows a route down this alley and to the left. You¡¯ll come out behind target.


    //Dubs: Understood.


    Drum mag in. I turned on my boots and went further into the darkness. The alleys were just a blur of gray brickwork and debris left to rot. I knew that Belle would realize I was there when I was close enough due to my aura, and I intended to give her that reassurance as soon as possible.


    I paused at the corner of whatever building was the target''s immediate neighbor, and looked out to the yard behind the manor. There was a back door, but the small windows were dark, and it looked as though it was locked up. I watched as the drone buzzed and rose vertically up above me.


    //Clara: Visuals on targets. Armed humanoids. Unknown number.


    //Clara: No eyes on Belle.


    //Clara: Rooftop has a penthouse type room, small, two figures within.


    //Dubs: Enough room for me to ascend unseen?


    //Clara: Affirmative.


    Good enough for me. While the roof was probably the second most likely direction that a savior could appear from, jumping into one of the middle floors was a good way to get into hot water. If there were multiple targets with firearms, then it might be a gang. There was a chance it was a villain and their goons as well¡ªand in that instance I wanted a more methodical approach.


    I strode out into the wide area of the back alley and aimed my gauntlet into the air. With a hum and then short twang, the rappel head fired out from the discreet mechanism. The buzz of the wire extending almost overrode the familiar hiss of expending V-Force. Smart. To aid in the grapple working efficiently, the head would activate automatically when it struck a hard surface - another consequence of having to rush into using it.


    Although I was worried slightly that I had missed the mark, after a couple of seconds of just the zip of the wire extending, there was a short clink. Then the line tensed up, pulling me toward the building. I stepped forward and hopped up to the wall, placing my boots against it. There was the chance that I might just fall down and break my legs.


    //Clara: Grapple is secure.


    That¡¯d have to do as far as confidence went. I started to pace up the side of the wall as the mechanism on my arm wound the grapple wire in. It was¡­ uncomfortable. As I was being pulled up by my arm alone, it was effort to try to maintain a neutral body position and my balance¡ªnot to mention the strain that pulled at my tense muscles. I tried to not look down. Just as I thought my shoulder might dislocate, I made it to the edge of the roof.


    Vertigo had me waver in place, as I had to wait for the tension to pull me up over the edge without either of my arms able to pull me over. I wouldn¡¯t say I was especially afraid of heights, but knew enough to give gravity the respect it deserved. Already sweating, I took two steps over to the wall of the penthouse and allowed the foam to dissolve away.


    //Clara: You are on the west side wall, the north side is entirely glass windows and door.


    //Dubs: Understood.


    I lowered myself and crept nearer to the corner. The flat part of the roof ahead of me was bathed in the light from the smaller room, but was devoid of any interesting details. I took a few moments to calm my breathing and heart rate. My legs were safe for now. Now it was just the easy, murdering part of the rescue.


    Before I stepped out, I paused to feel at the charm. It was cool again and there was no message coming through in my head. I chose to believe that it was because the hero knew I was here.


    //Clara: Hold. Two targets, contact.


    I heard muffled footsteps and voices not long after the message came through. A metal ball clicked into the chamber of my gun-arm. Tazer or Nerve might have been the correct call, but I had no mercy for those that crossed the squad. The team. I held my breath as I could hear the pair move closer, up to the door of the glass side of the penthouse. Had they heard me climb up?


    My legs burned for me to power out and end them, but I held steady.


    ¡°-should be thankful we even get smoke breaks,¡± the first male voice said.


    ¡°You used to work for Hellaxe, right?¡± The second, much deeper, replied.


    ¡°He was a fuckin¡¯ slave driver. Literally, if he had his way. Was almost thankful when the League picked him up.¡±


    The pair had paused a few steps out onto the roof and were lighting up cigarettes. I waited for a good opportunity, not willing to give myself away by having a peek just yet. Besides, I had eyes in the sky, anyway.


    //Clara: One human, one orc. Both male. Light tactical gear and small firearms. Stowed.


    ¡°What do you think of this gig, then?¡± The orc grunted, before taking an audible drag of his smoke.


    ¡°Eh.¡± The man shuffled his feet on the texture of the roof. ¡°Risky business fucking with a hero. I doubt the ransom idea is going to work out any better than his attempt to kill her off.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Remember what happened the last time a hero was murdered?¡±


    ¡°Fuck. The League is like a sleeping dragon, man. I¡¯m not keen to be on the receiving end of their bad mood if this goes tits up.¡±


    The orc grunted. ¡°Well, try not to suck them off too much. If the others hear you, they¡¯ll rat you out. I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t want to be the one ending up murdered tonight.¡±


    ¡°Hah. Not me. You don¡¯t last this long around villains without a bit of-¡±


    I stepped out and blew a metal ball straight through the back of his head. The orc, now painted with the face of his former comrade, stumbled back in shock. Dropping his cigarette, he fumbled blindly at his belt. Too slow. I was there. Synapses went into overdrive with whatever bullshit name I gave my quick punch-ability, and my barrel broke through his teeth and punctured out the back of his throat.


    He dropped down, twitching and gurgling, before the shock had him pass out.


    Chamber snapped back and forth with murderous intent, another ball loaded.


    They had wanted to kill Belle. No¡­ a villain had wanted to kill Belle. The unlucky pair hadn¡¯t given me the name or powers of the one in charge, but had just signed the death warrants of everyone else in the building.


    With a calm now radiating through me, I looked back as the drone hovered down to meet me.


    //Clara: Running metal scan.


    //Clara: There are a lot of erroneous data points, but I can estimate targets.


    //Clara: The floor below¡­ between eight and fifteen.


    I didn¡¯t have it in me to say ¡®understood¡¯ again, partly because those two seconds could be better spent erasing some enemies.


    After wiping my barrel off on one of the corpses, I took a pistol for my left hand, and entered the penthouse. It was reasonably small - a single room with a double bed and some decorations on the left. Counters and a small fridge on the right, right beside a downward stairway. The fact that nobody had come to investigate the two bodies I had just left outside meant they didn¡¯t have very good tech.


    Then again, henchmen often didn¡¯t. At the squad level, you either needed some synced STAR or similar tech to notify you of any damage the group had sustained¡ªor ideally you¡¯d have another party present that was watching the proceedings, like Clara, or¡­ or¡­


    I paused at the top of the stairs, with a thought that was escaping my grasp. Eventually I gave up on it, unsure what it was trying to say. Something I wasn''t quite in the right place to remember. At the bottom of the stairs, a doorway on the left that no doubt led to a corridor for the next floor. I hadn¡¯t bothered to use my lens ability to see power levels recently, just because everything from goons to mutants didn¡¯t really have a number worth worrying about. Anything less than ten¡­ or even twenty, these days, didn¡¯t really threaten me.


    Against a villain, however, I¡¯d need to be more careful. One of the reasons I was interested in having Belle help protect me in a fight against Roxy was in hopes of seeing what the tech thought about the strength super¡¯s new power. I knew at the end of the day it was arbitrary, but if I was going to help train the whole team, it would be a way of watching them improve.


    I stopped again at this door. The drone remained near the top of the stairs to keep out of my way.


    //Clara: In five seconds, cross the corridor. Three targets in the opposite room.


    It was a surprise that I lasted as long as I had without this kind of help. Then again, I got a lot less injured lately. With all my tech and personal advancement, I still won. Just without getting so close to death.


    Five seconds were up, so I pushed through, moving across a carpeted corridor. Deep blue and gold pattern. The wallpaper wall was a soft gray, illuminated every so often by ornamental wall hangings. Down the far left, a shadow sunk past a corner. Just as I was told to, I continued on through to the door opposite.


    It swung inward to reveal a trio sitting around a table. Two playing cards while one read a book. Their eyes turned to me in surprise, not expecting my arrival. Gun-arm blew a metal ball through the chest of the closest while I stepped forward. My boot lashed out, and I kicked the table into the furthest one who was trying to get up, knocking him backward instead. Left hand grabbed the arm of the other going for his gun, and I caught him in time. We briefly strained against each other before I turned and struck his head with my metal elbow.


    As he slumped from his chair, I turned my arm to the pinned third and fired a selectloaded High Explosive shot, blowing wooden shards from the table away as his throat shredded apart.


    That was surely enough ruckus to grab the attention of the rest of the bad guys.


    //Clara: Two approaching, then a group of three.


    Music to my ears.


    It was never going to be a stealth mission, and rushing toward knocking the head off the leader was the quickest way of ending this. Would be nice if they had been the first person I¡¯d come across¡­ but that was in part the reason why villains surrounded themselves with henchmen. Meat shields.


    The first of the next two rushed into the room, calling out the name of one of the ones I¡¯d already pulped. A little too eager, as my rappel struck him in the face before he could raise his gun. The foam bloomed out, covering his eyes and mouth before solidifying. As the mechanism drew him toward my more stable footing, the stolen pistol in my left fired a trio of shots into him as my gun-arm launched a metal ball through the goon behind him. I dropped the pistol after putting a shot in the one I had knocked out with my elbow.


    ¡°We¡¯re under attack, radio in!¡± A voice yelled from down the corridor. The game was up.


    //Clara: They are holding position, getting into cover.


    As the foam melted away and my rappel wound itself back in, I rolled my neck out. It was about time they started using tactics. You could always get a handful in the initial surprise and shock of an assault, and often hope to break their morale and have them running. They probably still had the numbers and threat of the villain keeping them in line, but it was only a matter of time before they realized they had no chance.


    Selectloader popped in a Smoke shot and I filled the corridor with a dense gray fog. I remained standing in place in the room while the hunkered-down henchmen peppered the empty space with loose handgun fire.


    I missed having grenades. We had been waiting for the League to accept me so that they could furnish our stockpile, but it seemed danger came for us first. It was only a day since the assassin at our home¡­ and I wondered if this was connected to any of the loose threads I had dangling.


    Once the one-sided firefight died down, I stepped out into the smoke and fired a Quake shot downrange. As soon as it struck, I ran forward, bursting out of the dense fog to find the trio clasping at their heads or the nearby walls. The very structure of the building vibrated. Furniture shifted as a painting fell from the wall, and no doubt some dread sunk through those left standing below us.


    Reflex twisted its way through my synapses, and I jettisoned three metal balls in quick succession. Each of the stunned henchmen cored through as the ammunition damaged the brickwork behind the wallpaper even after passing through the bodies of my targets.


    //Clara: Majority seem to be on the floor below.


    //Clara: More targets moving. Anticipate fortified position.


    //Clara: It is likely both villain and Belle are below.


    //Dubs: But they could move now that they know I¡¯m here?


    //Clara: Insufficient data. It depends on the manner of entrapment.


    //Dubs: Understood.


    If they had a magical cage or the villain¡¯s ability was keeping her locked down, then it might be a struggle to move her. With me here, they might realize the ransom idea was off the table. In that case, they would-


    I rolled across the floor just as something burst up through the carpet. Overcharge humming with energy, I turned to see what looked like a slim sword of dark energy slide back down into the floor below.


    No doubt that was the villain. A little rude to try to end me before we¡¯d properly met.


    //Clara: Contact stairs.


    They were probably trying to pin me down. Flush me out with handgun fire while their leader stabbed me through the floor. Not an entirely terrible plan, and I would play along for a bit. Usually I would seek a shortcut via destroying the building beneath me, but with Belle down there, I didn¡¯t want to bury her under rubble. Everything was too busy here for me to focus and detect if there was any magic to give me a hint as to where she was.


    I leaped into another roll, switching my drum for a Smoke mag as the sharp prong broke through again. More energy vibrated through my V-Force drive as I loaded a Triple shot. Replaced the mag with the drum again and aimed down the hallway. As soon as a shadow edged around the corner, I fired¡ªand moved.


    Now the corridor and stairway around the corner were completely flooded. Enough gray fog to have a few of the now very disorientated henchmen cough. My lens could pick them out, however. Darker outlines trying to find where I was amongst the dense fog, but even my footfalls were silent now. I put four of them down, the chamber on my arm clacking back and forth to load a new ball in each time, even if no shell was there to eject. There were more enemies, but they had retreated to some cover outside of my smoke.


    I thumbed in more shells into my selectloader, waiting for the villain to make an appearance again. In my current position it might be difficult for them. I tapped the side of my neck - a fresh canister would be nice. Didn¡¯t get a chance to put one in with the rush.


    Instead of moving down the stairs into an inevitable gunfight, I turned and went to the room behind me. With a little effort, I dragged a table out from within and into the fog. Over by the stairs, I flipped it over onto the flat side and jumped aboard. Half expecting to hit immediate friction and jettison off right away, I was briefly amused that it worked completely as intended.


    That was until I emerged through the fog into a wide lobby where a group of henchmen had set up their own furniture barricades. My table hit the ground, and I flew off into a dive as they opened fire. Rappel shot forward into the long overturned table ahead and dragged it out of position towards me. My first shot went nowhere near the gathered enemies, but struck the large light overhead.


    It burst into sparks, and the lobby became dimmer¡ªthe sprinklers also activating and spraying the area. Stims washed through me as I took damage, but I was too focused to worry about the details. Gunshots broke the edges and cracked the wood of the stolen cover, but my eyes went over to the right, where a wider doorway seemed to lead to a large hall. That¡¯s where they must be.


    Smoke shot on my position. Empty shell bounced across the floor. Tazer shot flickered between a group of damp henchmen. Up to aching legs, I powered toward the door. One, two, three steps, and then¡ªI slid to the floor abruptly. Just as I was about to commit to shoulder-barging it, the long blade of black slid through.


    Overcharge crackled as I put a HE shell through the door instead. I was going a little hard on the V-Force, and would need to either tone it down or end this quickly. Despite the blast shredding a large hole through the entryway, it didn¡¯t appear like I had killed the villain.


    I rolled forward as a few shots still came my way, before diving through the door. Ball ejected out into the first goon standing ready. Patches of carpet tore up as I continued to roll to avoid gunshots until I found cover. This was indeed a bigger hall, like a large dining room perhaps¡ªwithout the long table in the middle. There weren¡¯t many people in here, although my vision was currently occupied with not having my head shot off.


    My eyes went to the side, expecting to see some of the prior goons regroup to push back through the door.


    Instead, my gaze went up above the opening.


    Across the wall, something that shouldn''t be there.


    There was a large¡­ spider. Well, half-man, half-spider. Dark fur covered his oddly proportioned body, four extra arms that ended in sharp sword-like points gripped at the wooden walls. Eight bright red eyes glared down at me, saliva running from a mandible-laden mouth. Grinning.


    Further over to the right, pinned to the ceiling in thick webbing, was Belle.

 89 - Pest Control

    It took me a couple of seconds to fully process the man-spider villain. He was like something out of a horror movie, but made very real. Just edging on the point of absurdity where I wavered between shock and disbelief.


    ¡°Darkness swirls around this modest abode," he began, in a surprisingly deep voice, full of gravitas. ¡°The crimson which now soaks through the furnishings is a curse rent by your hand, little League weevil.¡±


    I blinked, unsure how exactly to respond to that. Out of all the opponents I had faced in my life, the current enemy had been near the bottom of the list of expected overly verbose monologue-spewers.


    [The League didn¡¯t send me. I¡¯m just pest control.]


    His eight red eyes looked over me, some moving independently of each other¡ªwhich was only slightly off-putting. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe how often such a stale and dry insult works its way from the mouths of my detractors. I pity you.¡±


    He hadn¡¯t given me a name yet, which seemed rather rude, even if ultimately pointless. Clara wasn¡¯t in the room to give him a look over. She had only just clocked my expression, with me looking up over the door before she came through¡ªotherwise she may have been stabbed through on her entrance. With a couple of henchmen recovering in the prior room, she might have had to back all the way out. That was a shame, as this was the highlight of the evening.


    [You¡¯re probably thinking I¡¯m such a silly fly for landing in your trap, yet still being full of bravado.]


    ¡°This whole room is covered with a very thin layer of my webbing.¡± His mouth upturned into what I assumed was a smile. ¡°A task I so very diligently toiled away at as soon as we set up here with our tasty catch. A morsel divine yet still so stubborn to be feasted upon.¡± Three red eyes swiveled to glance at the pinned Belle.


    My footwork and sloppy entrance into the hall hadn¡¯t gotten stuck on anything, nor was I currently rooted in place with anything more than the tension before the fight began. The reason he told me was clear, even before he filled my ears with more droll. No doubt he had some way of feeling the vibrations through the web, so would know where I was every time I moved, even if I filled the room with smoke.


    That wasn''t an issue, however, as my finger had already felt for the Smoke mag and touched nothing but the pusher inside. No shells left. Clara might twist my ear off when I returned for not managing my ammunition properly. When I could see though the fog and others couldn¡¯t, it made it an easy button to press on repeat to give me an easy win. I wasn¡¯t as bulletproof as some of the supers, so I took what I could even if it was cheap. But now that well had run dry.


    ¡°If not with the League, then you have a-¡±


    I cut him off by firing a metal ball at him. It missed, slamming through the wall and into the room beyond, after barely missing one of his shoulder joints.


    Half expecting him to either spout some more nonsense at me, or perhaps clamber around the wall or ceiling to get into position to attack, he actually did something I hadn¡¯t anticipated.


    He leaped right at me.


    Like a compressed spring, he shot from his resting place, sharp arms raised to slash at me. I might have Advanced abilities, but I couldn¡¯t react to his assault in time. His thick body of coarse dark fur slammed into me and we fell to the ground. Warm pain stabbed at my right side as two of his arms cut through my tactical gear and bit into my flesh. The two on my left miss and jabbed through the carpet like butter.


    I lashed my head forward, mostly from the surge of anger at the pain shooting through me. My forehead connected with his face, and he grunted and moved back, releasing some pressure. His two arms that ended with normal¡ªalbeit completely hairy¡ªhands were trying to pin me down, but he was remarkably light.


    As I tried to use my gun-arm to push him away, prying his odd body off of me, one of his blades swiped upward. It only just missed cutting through my face, instead it caught the lip of my hood, cutting and flinging it back. I activated the V-Force in my gauntlet and pushed him away. His sharp blades dug into the carpet as I rolled aside. The trouble with him having so many limbs was that it was tough to put him on the back foot¡ªhe just used the others to keep himself steady.


    While I had avoided his lunge and rolled up to my feet again, I stumbled back into the wall. At first, I thought he might have poisoned me, but no. The aches I could feel over my body were a few shallow gunshot wounds from my journey to this point. I''d been able to ignore them up until now thanks to adrenaline, but my body was tiring. Just to remind me that this wasn¡¯t exactly a gentlemanly duel, shrapnel burst out from the wooden wall beside me as one of the few henchmen also standing about in the hall tried to take potshots to assist their boss.


    The man-spider hissed and slunk back away as the next metal ball loaded into the chamber. As quick as he was, if he moved closer, he wouldn¡¯t have the time to dodge it. There was this constant issue of the other firearms in the room causing issues for either me or my opponent. Fights often swung on who could shoot first or weather enough damage before winning out.


    I fired. Perhaps a mistake, but he didn¡¯t want to move forward, and I was waiting for him to get closer for a greater chance of landing a shot. The metal ball skirted past his head as he moved and struck part of his bulbous back end. It bounced off at an angle and went elsewhere in the room, doing little damage whatsoever.


    Ah. So speed and some manner of durability. That was good to know. A hard earned nugget of knowledge, however, as he took the opportunity to launch at me again.


    Sparks rang from my gun-arm as I blocked one of the sharp arms. A second went through into where he had already stabbed me once again. On my left side, the third went in just beneath my collarbone. The last of his weaponised limbs didn¡¯t quite make it through my coat and gear, and narrowly missed cutting into a rib¡ªinstead it just went through the wall beside me.


    Thick webbing shot out from his¡­ underside and covered my feet. He leaned his weight¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t much¡ªinto keeping me in place. My eyes burned with fury as he squeezed, his blades trying to do more damage. If I wasn¡¯t careful, the one in my side could disembowel me, which wouldn¡¯t be pleasant.


    I went for another headbutt, but there wasn¡¯t much room. One of his hands came up to grip at my balaklava and keep my face away from his. Still, he was close. I could stare into his red eyes as they glared at me hungrily.


    It made me wonder why some chose a life of villainy. Well, that was a rather mundane and fruitless question to ask myself. While man-spider here wasn¡¯t too pleasing on the eyes, there was surely work for him the League could assign. What really made him different from me? Or someone like Roxy just having a bad day?


    In the end, it wasn¡¯t really something I cared to answer.


    I tried my best to be a nuanced and affable person, despite my past. Or maybe in spite of it? Being a bard, I¡­ no, this wasn¡¯t the time for it. My gun-arm went up, and I fired a metal ball past the villain, striking one of the henchmen.


    ¡°Such folly. Are you delirious already? Desperate for some manner of win, so your mortal soul might have some closure before being torn from your flesh?¡± His mouth moved, revealing small but sharp teeth.


    Fucking hells, the talkers were the worst. Another metal ball went out and broke through a goon waiting about. Overcharge hummed into life as the last of them went to get into cover.


    I felt the blades move in closer. Digging another centimeter or two through my muscle. Fresh stims washing through did little to abate the rising pains. My left hand focused now on holding back the one sharp-arm that wasn¡¯t currently tunneling through my body.


    No poison, but I was willing to bet there was something that weakened my own strength in his barbed appendages. Even if durable, with how lightweight the villain was, it shouldn¡¯t be this difficult to push him away.


    Third metal ball punctured through several pieces of furniture and a low wall before burying itself in the chest of the last goon. His gurgled yelp was briefly amusing, given what a pickle I was currently in.


    The sharp arm that I deflected came up, the pointed end undefendable, now slowly reaching to the side of my face. It ran down my temple and cheek, as if giving me a caress. It was likely that the villain was about to puncture through my goggles and into my eye socket¡ªor perhaps just tear through my face.


    I could feel my strength draining as warm blood soaked through my clothing. Threat Level 67, apparently. I forgot how bad that was¡­ as it didn¡¯t really matter half the time. I raised my gun-arm up but was unable to get an angle on him with how close to me he was. I fired it off anyway, then my arm hung slack.


    ¡°A final send off? I can replace all my men. What have you really achieved?¡±


    [I want you to know... you are really annoying.]


    ¡°What? Hah!¡± He hissed again, a slow chuckle. ¡°That is all you have to say, my most indignant of meals? Does your doomed tongue find solace in these simple words?¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    [Oh shut the fuck up already.]


    My Tazer shot struck him in the leg, just before Clara surged forward and rammed the drone into the side of his head. Not really doing much damage, but in combination with the shock running up his body, it allowed me enough strength to push him away.


    I grunted as his limbs slid out of my torso, and as he stumbled back disorientated, I powered up Overcharge once more. There was a danger I¡¯d do some damage to the drive at this point, but with the tubes running from the backpack and providing cooling, I managed to skirt the potential ruin of my important shotgun mechanisms.


    The rappel shot out of my left wrist as I swung my tired arm, my synapses briefly able to stop the extension of the wire¡ªcausing it to whip around his right leg. As it then started to pull him forward, I raised my gun-arm and fired an empty chamber of V-Force right at his face.


    He didn¡¯t know it would be empty, and crossed all available limbs to protect himself. It wasn¡¯t even enough power to damage his eyes, but it would have blocked out his hearing and stunned him briefly. That¡¯s all I really needed.


    Realizing he hadn¡¯t been shot, he blinked away the temporary stupor and grinned at me. Of course, I was still stuck in place. There was a notification that the drone had taken some damage and needed to dock, but she¡¯d have to wait. I ignored all the ones that were telling me what injuries I had sustained. They wouldn¡¯t matter in a few seconds.


    ¡°You show some spirit, weakling. Not a normal human. You shall make the most delectable of meals.¡±


    I rolled my eyes, because he was still talking. Sure, it was nice for him to hand the win over to me on a silver platter, but sometimes it was nicer to feel like you won by the skin of your teeth. Not that I had any teeth.


    The villain brought his limbs back, ready to pounce again. Even knowing what he was going to do, I still couldn¡¯t see the signs he was a jumping spider. There wasn¡¯t the usual tense muscles or crouched position. He was just standing there one second, and then would be trying to impale me with those sharp limbs the next.


    And then he did.


    Although, his blades didn¡¯t cut through me, but instead stopped as they touched against my clothing. Confusion painted his face as my neck, chest, and stomach hadn¡¯t been cut to ribbons.


    I, however, thrummed with a new power. For a change, it wasn¡¯t my own.


    The man-spider had some brains in him, as he realized exactly why he had failed soon after. His head snapped around to see Belle standing there, hand extended, as she maintained a protective barrier over me. She had suffered some minor burns, but mostly on her clothing. The Incendiary shot I had put up there after the henchmen had been dealt with had burned through the webbing in short order.


    Of course, the blast of air to disorientate his senses was so that the woman could land down on the floor without him hearing once the other threats had been taken care of. Perhaps unnecessary, but I did this sort of thing because often in a fight, the element of surprise was the different between life and death.


    Something that also struck him unexpectantly in a more literal sense after he turned his attention away from me to glare at Belle.


    My last Sanguine stake rocketed through his chest and into the ceiling before he could regain his composure. His eight eyes darted about briefly, before going inert. With a hiss, his body slunk to the floor and each of his limbs curled up closer to his torso.


    A wave of energy ran through me, and I gave Belle a nod of thanks. Her arm went slack, and she sighed, looking around at the bodies of the henchmen.


    ¡°You¡¯re certainly proficient, Dubs,¡± she said.


    [Are you okay?]


    Her eyes went back up to me, and she nodded. ¡°Twisted my ankle when I landed, and some minor burns that are already mostly healed, but otherwise fine. Thank you, I owe you big time.¡±


    I grunted and shrugged, pain radiating through me as I moved. My stim pack clicked loudly, as I told it to dump itself into recovery mode. Warm, instant relief pulsed through me, carried through my bloodstream. Hopefully now the warning messages would go away.


    The drone hummed up over to me, struggling to maintain a steady hover as it tilted and wavered. I held out my hand and Clara landed upon it. It looked as though part of the side near one of the rotor blades had been dented. Buckled inward, it must be affecting the flight.


    //Clara: I won¡¯t be able to maintain drone usage.


    //Clara: Kindly allow me to dock, and I will switch to audio only.


    With a second grunt, I pulled my feet from the sticky webbing one after the other. I took a few steps away from the wall and turned so that Clara could fly around me.


    [Was this the reason you gave me the charm?]


    Belle shuffled herself over to me as she dusted off some of the burned fabric from her robes. ¡°No. Not exactly. It was meant to warn me when you got yourself in trouble, so that I could help you.¡± She gave me a soft smile.


    [I hope it has a long shelf life then, as that is a frequent occurrence.]


    As the drone clipped into position on the backpack, I then straightened myself out, my back clicking as I ignored the increased burning pain from my injuries. The super must have noticed, as her expression turned into a concerned scowl.


    ¡°Shit. I couldn¡¯t see how injured you were from up there. Will you recover fine?¡±


    [In no time at all, I¡¯m sure. Especially with your assistance.]


    She shrugged and crossed her arms. ¡°I only wish I had better healing spells. You took the gamble that my barriers could deflect the villain¡¯s attacks because I had used them to protect myself, correct?¡±


    I nodded and looked around the room. The hall didn¡¯t look so stately now, with the corpses and blood sprays decorating the walls. Whatever forces hadn¡¯t met an end via my gun-arm had probably fled by now¡ªsomething Clara was able to corroborate in my messages.


    [So, you know what I¡¯m going to ask you now.]


    Belle pulled a face. ¡°How I found myself in this situation?¡±


    [Correct.]


    ¡°It will sound foolish, but¡­¡± her eyes went to the dead man-spider, before over at the wall. ¡°Money. I didn¡¯t know he was a villain, but I was seeking finance for the Church.¡±


    [Does He get more powerful with the more people believe in Him?]


    She nodded.


    [Do you lose your powers if there is not enough general belief in Him?]


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not entirely sure.¡± Some of her usual confidence had left her face. ¡°Just that this is what He wants from me. To elevate the Church and increase the flock. Some days it feels¡­¡± Belle looked up at the ceiling, as if making sure the fey demi-god wasn¡¯t currently up there listening in. ¡°It feels like I could be making better use of my time. The Church thing was fun at first. I got to be a leader. It was all about love and acceptance¡­ but there¡¯s no real¡­¡±


    [There isn¡¯t a tangible benefit to striving so much?]


    She gave me a dry smile. ¡°That¡¯s why they call it faith, I suppose. None of my efforts have really increased my power substantially. Perhaps this is the peak of my power, in which case¡­ it makes giving it all up and quitting a realistic option. Even if I lost all my powers, at least I would only be insufferable by my own volition.¡±


    I gave her a brief nod before looking around for a chair to sit down on. Another tiring day under my belt. Working at night had felt nice and comfortable, even if the injuries were anything but. I had used up the last of my Sanguine ammunition, which meant it would be a struggle to go against any other villains that happened to pop up before we could fabricate our own. Or if Belle decided to attack me, I didn¡¯t think I could kill her at present.


    [Unfortunately, I know even less about the gods than my own past. Especially with the fey or any other planar entities. I cannot advise you what is best to do for your life and career, but I will support whatever action you decide on.]


    That didn¡¯t seem to bring her any comfort. Instead, she rolled her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s not going to cut it with me, Dubs. Being my knight in shining armor tonight has earned you a few extra points, but neither of us are up to standard.¡±


    [Oh?]


    ¡°I¡¯m not expecting you to solve my problems. They are my problems. I can see the potential in you, and what you can bring to the team.¡± She leaned against some furniture that had been half destroyed in the fight. ¡°For a long time, I¡¯ve felt that something in me needs to break, similar to Roxy¡¯s power awakening. Maybe I¡¯m wrong, but you¡¯re the catalyst.¡±


    [I hope you¡¯re not wrong about that. There are plenty of trials and possibilities for the team going forward, and I wouldn¡¯t want to replace you.]


    Belle tilted her head. ¡°It probably wouldn¡¯t be difficult to find a decent hero with better healing or buffing abilities.¡±


    Out of the whole gang, our supportive super had been the most surprising. If you ignored the time that Roxy shattered my rib cage and dripped with lava, at least. Roy and Ren had been pretty quick to turn around and get on board, perhaps assisted by my Calm Emotions aura. With Belle not being affected by the spell, it was taking more time to draw out what problems she had with the League and with being a hero.


    [Tell me what you need, and I will do what is required. The team is here to support you.]


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± She smiled and waved me off. ¡°I think getting to spar with everyone together will really help. I don¡¯t blame Roxy for how the team has fallen apart, but it¡¯s been so long since we really acted like a team.¡± Her eyebrow raised. ¡°I assume that she can currently hear me?¡±


    I nodded. Even if Clara was audio only at present, I had no doubts that the super would still be standing in the background, wanting to hear everything that went on.


    ¡°Well, you owe me then, Roxy.¡± She glared at my¡­ chest, as if that was where I had a microphone. ¡°Give me a couple of days to clear my head, and then I¡¯ll call in for my debt.¡±


    //Clara: Rockslide accepts.


    [She is ready and waiting.]


    ¡°Perfect.¡± Belle sighed. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯m sorry that you had to get involved here. It wouldn''t look good to get the League involved, and that last goon you exploded held a device that disabled my STAR. Being defensive only is also something I detest. I don¡¯t mind being a helper, but I want to¡­¡± she gestured to the nearest henchman with emptied skull.


    [Hmm. I can see your point. We aren¡¯t in a position to discuss details, but there is a chance we will be doing a lot more of¡­ this than most heroes.]


    I had been chewing through my meeting with the Director for most of the day that wasn¡¯t spent being knee deep in the other issues I had plaguing my tired mind. By now, I had some loose threads that seemed to connect with each other. I hoped that I was correct.


    ¡°We should get out of here. Hanging around a crime scene would be terrible for my metrics.¡± Belle grimaced as she gestured out of the hall.


    With a nod, I rose to my feet, my re-breather rattling out a sigh from the numbed pain flaring back up. It was just flesh and muscle. It would patch back up in no time at all. We went through the lobby and found the exit that the retreating henchmen had used, and I took point.


    The Director had been pretty clear that the World Government was annoyed that they didn¡¯t have control in Goldarch. Their plans to disrupt the power of the League wouldn¡¯t have stopped at the failed super-soldier squad I was once a part of. They also couldn¡¯t be overt with their attempts and run the risk of inciting retaliation.


    So what did that mean?


    A softer and more subtle approach to getting their claws in. It made more sense now why the League also loosely controlled the rate of crime, running the superhero stuff like a day job for workers that needed to be kept busy. It allowed them a view of anything that seemed out of the ordinary. If certain crimes rose in frequency, or a new face started making waves¡ªthey¡¯d know and could react as appropriate.


    The League had known about me for years, of course. Even allowed me to run my contracts without interruption as I was taking out the trash, without stepping on too many toes. They could ignore my heavy-handed approach as long as I kept to the shadows.


    Now that I was very real and out in the light, they had to do something with me.


    The world had a lot of things in it that could be turned against Goldarch. I was fully prepared to be told that the increase in monsters and gang activity from the wastes was in part due to the World Government. The Director had even insinuated that there was a big problem brewing out there. More than just a group of heels or vigilantes, the League wanted something even more important from me.


    They were going to wield the tool created by the Gov right back against them.

 90 - Clicking into Place

    Most of the walk back to my vehicle was done in silence. Both of us were tired, not to mention after the recovery stims wore off, I felt further exhausted. Still, I had stopped bleeding, which prevented the upholstery in my seat from getting ruined. Perhaps I should get them replaced with something more easily washable.


    I drove Belle back home, the journey through the night grounding us both. There wasn¡¯t really any conversation I felt like having. No solution I could give her to help solve the things troubling her. She had clearly saved my life with her barrier, which seemed like a fair price to trade for rescuing her from her captor. Anything further than that was unnecessary. More fool me for putting myself at risk again.


    Once Clara was satisfied I wasn¡¯t about to bleed out and die, she cut communications to go deal with other things. Probably the super¡¯s stress levels. The thought of having to go back and set up the defenses was almost agonizing, even if necessary.


    As the wagon slowed to a stop outside her home, Belle turned to me.


    ¡°Thanks again, Dubs. I didn¡¯t expect to have to put my trust in you so soon¡­ but you went above and beyond.¡±


    I shrugged.


    [This is just the bare minimum I do for my allies. My life is a consumable commodity to protect and serve those close to me.]


    She hesitated before leaving the vehicle, her brow furrowing. Eventually, she sighed and pushed back some of her pink hair. ¡°That¡¯s bullshit. You¡¯re not a robot, this is all what you choose to do. So¡­ choose to value your own existence more.¡± With a brief smile, she pushed the door and stepped out. ¡°Take care, Dubs.¡±


    I nodded and watched her walked over and enter the building. Idly, I started the vehicle back up, but my mind was wandering before I¡¯d even made the decision to set off. Maybe it was just my post-battle brain being mush, but something she said there had sunk into my active thoughts.


    It was nothing new, of course. Ever since meeting Roxy, she had been trying to beat some sense into me to be less reckless with my life. The way Belle had repeated that it was my choice¡­


    With a sigh, I started to roll away and head home. Clearly, I needed a good sleep. My prior training didn¡¯t include this sort of thing, so of course it had been my choice to go alone to rescue her. Yet at the same time, there was no other option. This was what had to be done. It was probably a bad idea to start analyzing my destiny and how much free will I had.


    Getting home and grabbing a fresh canister was the more important thought.


    What felt like two minutes later, I was already rolling up to beside the workshop. With a further grunt as pain radiated up my side, I pushed the door open and stepped down onto the gravel¡ªimmediately falling into the arms of the super.


    [Oh, I didn¡¯t even see you there.]


    She gave me a gentle squeeze. ¡°I know, asshole. Let¡¯s get you inside to check up on your wounds.¡± With a quick kiss on the side of my face, Roxy led me into the workshop.


    There wasn¡¯t much I could do to argue. I was tired, more so than usual. Something to do with the villain¡¯s toxins, I was pretty sure. Stepping into the room, Clara was already seated and waiting for me. Rubber gloves on her hands and a surgical mask on.


    [Are things worse than I realize?]


    The two women exchanged a glance before the techie gestured for me to strip down.


    ¡°Yes, Gunquake. The fact that you have the ability to check the finite status of your health, yet do not, is frankly maddening.¡±


    ¡°Nothing dire,¡± Roxy added, as she helped pull my trench coat off. ¡°But that motherfucker left little spine things in your wounds. Like poisonous hairs.¡±


    Clara nodded, gesturing to the white bottles on the side table. ¡°They need to be flushed out, otherwise you¡¯ll be feeling weak for weeks. There is a possibility of organ failure.¡±


    [Ah. Probably not ideal that all the wounds have healed up, then.]


    The techie sighed. ¡°That¡¯s what the scalpels are for, Gunquake.¡±


    Roxy gave me a soft squeeze on my uninjured shoulder as I slowly unclipped my tactical gear. ¡°I¡¯ll go grab you a fresh canister and stim pack, hun.¡±


    I turned my head to thank her, but she was already gone. Briefly confused at the speed with which she had traveled, I glanced back to see that Clara was before me, cutting through my undershirt with surgical scissors.


    ¡°You are starting to slow down, Gunquake,¡± she said, her voice wavering between pitches. ¡°Thankfully, that means you are likely to pass out before we begin the process. Lucky you.¡±


    [Oh. Okay.]


    ¡°You can leave your pants on, for now.¡± Her eyebrow raised as she looked up at me, before she frowned. The lighting of the room changed as her hands moved my goggles up off my eyes and onto my forehead. ¡°It does distress me when you aren¡¯t lucid. Lay down and I¡¯ll get this done as soon as possible.¡±


    I stepped toward the table, and then was lying on it. The sharp, refreshing hit of a fresh canister washed through my neck as Roxy clipped in the new tube. I blinked twice and looked over to the side. At some point, they had removed my balaclava, and she ran her fingers through my hair.


    ¡°Are you in any pain, Dubs?¡±


    [No. I need to go set up the defenses, though.]


    I tried to move, but found my body unresponsive.


    ¡°Dumbass, you sit tight. We have already got them up and running.¡± She smiled. ¡°I¡¯m not as simple as I look, you know.¡±


    [You are beautiful.]


    The super said something after that, but I didn¡¯t hear it. A swirling muffled noise, and I was falling back asleep again. Shadows circled around in the back of my mind. Eight-legged monsters waiting to eat me up while I was paralyzed. They clambered and scratched, hissed occasionally as they sped past what little light I could image. Some of them held assault rifles, and were shouting at me. Fire and the smell of burning organic material filled my nose, sickening me. I was angry. Indignant. Murder was on my mind, and I had-


    My eyes snapped open, the light of morning burning into my vision. The familiar view of the bedroom ceiling came into focus, before the warmth of the super¡¯s skin pressed against me. I turned my head slowly to see her propped up on her side, beside me. Some concern on her face, but otherwise happy to see me.


    [I yet live.]


    ¡°Prick, you¡¯re not allowed to die.¡± She leaned forward against my aching body as she kissed between my eyes. ¡°Clara said you¡¯ll be fucked today, but you¡¯ll recover.¡±


    [Is that a promise?]


    Roxy snorted and rolled her eyes. ¡°Turns out I¡¯m not at full power yet, either. Both of our asses are as dumb as each other, huh?¡±


    Her warmth disappeared as she moved away from me, and I was tempted to pull her back close. There was an immense lethargy still in my limbs, however, plus the sight of her emerging from the bed was almost as good. I watched as she stretched her back out; the sunlight running down part of her torso, before she turned her head back to catch me gazing.


    ¡°Look, Dubs.¡± She faced me and stuck a leg out, her hands on her hips as she flexed. ¡°I¡¯m losing definition. I¡¯ve been living too good as of late.¡±


    It was hard to tell how much she was putting that act on, as she was still as densely muscled and finely sculpted as when we had first met. Her ascension hadn¡¯t changed her much, but the confidence in letting more of her figure meet the sunshine had started erasing at the harsh tan lines.


    [Rather than give you platitudes about how attractive you are, would you like to do some light training today? I bet I could give you a good workout.]


    She grinned and relaxed. ¡°You can¡¯t even walk yet, pal. Let¡¯s see what the day brings us before you make promises you can¡¯t keep.¡±


    [Fair. What is the current situation with the home?]


    ¡°Well, the defenses are working and Clara was confident enough the League isn¡¯t using them to spy on us.¡± She shrugged and walked over to the wardrobe. ¡°The gremlin suggested that she should be closer to you while you rested in case of complications. I told her she should stop chasing tyres, before she gets run over.¡±


    [Is she getting a little clingier?]


    ¡°No.¡± Roxy pulled out a skirt before making a face and returning it. ¡°Just testing boundaries. You should do something nice for her, though. After watching her dig through you again and getting blood everywhere, I feel bad.¡± She turned her head to look at me. ¡°She goes through a lot to keep you in one piece, and doesn¡¯t expect much in return. As her sister, I want her to be in good health, you know? Unless she tries to seduce you, in which case I¡¯ll tear her in half.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    I raised an eyebrow as she looked back into her wardrobe for what to wear. She had a decent point¡ªat least about ensuring the techie kept her faculties in check. While Clara might be able to distance or dissociate enough to not let the surgeries and my injuries affect her, she was only human. Eventually, she would burn out. I had wrapped myself up in wanting to spend time with the team, but it was important that Clara stand as equals amongst them, if not even higher.


    [I¡¯m sure I can think of something. She home today?]


    ¡°No. At the League for a change, and then this evening she is with her property manager or something. There¡¯s been some interest in her apartment, so she might get that sorted soon.¡±


    That was good news, although a shame that she¡¯d be away from us for another day. Perhaps we had been living easy with neither Roxy nor I technically ¡®working¡¯, while Clara essentially had three jobs between the League, her education, and keeping me alive.


    [How about the hobgoblin¡­ Teeba?]


    ¡°Slept on the couch. He was very¡­¡± Roxy paused as she tried to come up with the right word. ¡°Shaken. With your exploits last night.¡±


    [I was a little more violent than when I assaulted the foundry, I suppose.]


    That was putting it lightly. I had injured a few people, Teeba included, but there had been no deaths. Aside from Jolt God. The henchmen from last night were unlucky to have signed up with that villain, and my ire was unrepentant. Any contemplation over the juxtaposition of how little life meant to me, yet I gave everything to protect the few I did care about, was quickly washed away as I watched the super turn to face me.


    ¡°Seriously, Dubs? You¡¯re not tired of me yet?¡±


    [You saw how I lived alone for five years. I have a lot of gawking to catch up on.]


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re not getting a show.¡± She shot me a playful scowl as she pulled on a compression top and shorts. ¡°I need some exercise and food, and then maybe some sunshine.¡±


    [Want me to cook breakfast?]


    Roxy bit her lip as she circled back around the bed. ¡°I will never say no to that. If I ever do, I¡¯ve gone rogue, and you should kill me.¡±


    [We both know I¡¯m not capable of doing that.]


    The super leaned over the bed and gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. ¡°Then you better start thinking of ways,¡± she said softly. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll start withholding something until you can beat me in another duel?¡±


    [Karma is a bitch, huh?]


    ¡°Me too, babe.¡± She stood up and grinned. ¡°You need help with getting up?¡±


    [Just give me a minute, I¡¯ll be fine.]


    Roxy shot me a wink before turning to leave, and I just sunk back into the covers. A day off sounded rather nice, as rare as a true rest was lately. Part of me knew that it wouldn¡¯t last, and hope the League wouldn¡¯t come knocking to offer me up my next trial while I was out of sorts.


    I flexed my muscles and grunted as I sat up. It was barely achievable, and I had to lean forward more than was comfortable to ensure I didn¡¯t flop backward onto the warm and inviting pillows. I had become accustomed to luxury¡ªor at least to normality. Either the surgery, or the lingering effects of the villain¡¯s attacks, had left my muscles feeling half asleep. I could only imagine how bad it would have been if Clara had not removed whatever foreign objects had been left in my wounds.


    Possibly a coma.


    Thankfully, it was only a minor lethargy that seemed to shift once I got my body moving. Stiffly, I swung around and exited the bed, taking a step forward to rest my hand against the wall while my legs caught up to speed. As expected, I was just in my underwear. The wound on my side looked red and sore, but had closed up and healed remarkably well. I was once again relieved to have been unconscious for the ordeal.


    To get ready for the day, I tested out a few squats. The first was shaky, but the second through to fifth grew more comfortable with each dip then rise. I worked out my back from side to side, lifting and lowering my arms. The thawing was uncomfortable, but it took only a handful of minutes before I was able to dress myself in something loose and head out into the world.


    I arrived down into the lobby and stepped into the kitchen, to find both the super and Teeba there, each nursing a coffee.


    ¡°Good morning, Gunquake,¡± he said, in that slightly robotic and overly ill-fitting posh tone. ¡°I am glad you have recovered."


    [Likewise. Please call me Dubs. Are you hungry?]


    He pulled a face and looked between Roxy and his mug of steaming brew. ¡°You have already done so much for me, I can¡¯t hope to-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a yes, then,¡± Roxy interjected. ¡°I could hear your stomach growling from the bathroom.¡±


    [Our hospitality isn¡¯t wholly benevolent, however. There is something I will request of you in return.]


    ¡°Of course, Gun- Dubs.¡± He bowed his head. ¡°I will do my best to serve.¡±


    I didn¡¯t doubt that at all. With a nod, I went over to the fridge. Although we hadn¡¯t discussed what groceries to buy formally, as a¡­ couple, it looked as though ever since I had started to pick up cooking again, Roxy had been stocking up on things she hoped I¡¯d make for her. That was fair enough. I didn¡¯t mind at all.


    [Roy is back on the job today, correct?]


    ¡°Sure is.¡± Roxy blew at her coffee as she watched me unload some ingredients. ¡°He asked for permission to come say thanks later after his shift.¡±


    [By now he should know that he is welcome.]


    She grinned. ¡°He isn¡¯t the youngest out of us, but he¡¯s always been the little brother of the team. Once he packs away the tough-guy act, he is actually kind of a dweeb. Actually enjoys spending time with his parents like a weirdo.¡± The super sipped her drink.


    [The change he desired was always just a step away for him, he just needed a little push.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°What you did was a little more than a push, Dubs.¡± She glanced over at the hobgoblin, who looked rather lost. ¡°This poetic murder machine here has a near-death experience every three days, and most of them are his own fault.¡±


    [I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s entirely fair.]


    It was entirely fair.


    ¡°Regardless,¡± she continued, shooting me a scowl, ¡°If there are two things Dubs is great at, it¡¯s killing, and almost dying.¡±


    [Only two things?]


    ¡°That I can say in front of company.¡±


    [I meant cooking, but thank you.]


    She tried to melt into the counter as I wiggled the pan at her. I was pretty sure there was a whole host of things I was great at, but nothing else came to mind. My thoughts were too busy wondering when I¡¯d get more grenades.


    My eyes drifted away from the oil heating up, to our guest, who hadn¡¯t had any input on the brief conversation.


    [How much sway do you have back home?]


    ¡°Ah.¡± He fidgeted on the stool. ¡°Not a great amount. My husband is part of the newly formed council, however.¡±


    [Perfect. Ah. I didn¡¯t also beat him up as well, did I?]


    The hobgoblin shook his head. ¡°No, he wasn¡¯t on shift and was sleeping at the time.¡±


    That was a relief, at least. Might be harder to sway them onto our side if I had roughed up all the important heads. Partly I was also glad it wasn¡¯t the guy I caught up in the bedroom.


    [I¡¯ll cut to the chase then. I¡¯m interested in your facilities. The production and smelting of certain metal objects. You¡¯d be working for me, and I would remunerate you in whatever manner you desire.]


    He gave me a blank look for a few seconds, before turning his eyes to the super.


    ¡°You after credits, or something else?¡± she translated.


    ¡°Credits aren¡¯t much good for us, being that we¡¯re outside of the Gov¡¯s system.¡± He pulled a face, clearly not a fan. We could work with that. ¡°Food and security keeps us going.¡±


    I nodded. That seemed to be a theme with those out in the wasteland. Things were scarce. Everything except violence. Still, I couldn¡¯t be everywhere at once. Being their guardian angel would just leave me stretched thin between League work, and all the other bullshit that seemed to circle me.


    [Do you have any enemies?]


    Teeba pulled another face and tilted his head. ¡°Mostly scavengers, hoping to pick away at us if we weaken further. There is one group that has been scouting us, and we expect them to try raiding sometime soon.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow and looked over at Roxy.


    [Date night?]


    She bit her lip. ¡°You¡¯re a dangerous man, Dubs. I¡¯m up for it as long as it¡¯s nothing too risky.¡±


    Roxy had taken no time to make that decision. After watching how she had dismantled that first outpost, I didn¡¯t think she would be difficult to sway toward doing some further violence outside the reach of the law. I also thought it sounded fun.


    We were going to be trouble for the League. I could taste it.


    [Let¡¯s eat and have a casual afternoon. If you don¡¯t mind waiting, Teeba, I will drive you back home closer to the evening. I will discuss an arrangement with your group and hopefully we can be in business.]


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he squirmed again. ¡°Were you just saying you would murder our enemies?¡±


    ¡°In exchange for goods and services,¡± Roxy said with a confident nod.


    [You¡¯ve seen what we¡¯re good at. What we can¡¯t do is forge metal. Not for the illegal shit we need.]


    I shook the pan; the bacon sliding around and sizzling, drawing the hobgoblin¡¯s attention fully. He looked as though he was trying to think of a way to escape us without raising suspicion, lest he end up beside the bacon. The wastes had plenty of cannibal tribes, so that was always on the plate, even if realistically unpalatable.


    Eventually, he agreed. Perhaps for lack of any other option. Given that I expected things to work out exactly how I planned them, that was good. He had no other option.


    We ate breakfast, and the food calmed his nerves. Roxy and I went into the garden and did some basic exercise. A bit of running and bodyweight repetitions. Given that both of us weren¡¯t at our peak, we actually felt stronger and more ourselves after we decided to call it quits. The super could have gone on much longer - I was sure she was partly humoring me, but at the end of the day, it didn¡¯t really matter.


    Teeba had spent that time watching movies. I sweetened the deal by telling him I¡¯d get him a couple televisions for their place if he could bend his significant other¡¯s ear. He already felt beholden to me for giving him a voice, but that went to show how much I wanted this win.


    He hadn¡¯t always been mute. The story weaseled out of him once we filled his stomach at lunch time. He¡¯d been injured a couple of years back when his tribe was attacked by a group of monsters. Almost died, but made it through with his voice the only long-term debilitation. He sounded as lucky as me. I could understand now why Clara had said the surgery would be different than mine - and why his voice synced up with his mouth movements without issue.


    I was slightly envious.


    While Roxy went to get washed up and into her super suit, I went into the workshop to load up all my magazines and get my tactical gear sorted. It was no surprise that Clara hadn¡¯t managed to do the deed, like some manner of magical fairy. Even after working on me, they had set up the defenses. I didn¡¯t know how she had the energy.


    The computer was still working on that drive, but looked to be about 83% through. At this stage, I couldn¡¯t even imagine what could be on it. Something Boss wanted me to get long after it being found. The full picture, finally? Names and proper nouns to tie my old life to the World Government? Who the other three living members of the squad were?


    I had a suspicion about who one of them was, but it didn¡¯t feel quite right. It was even something I¡¯d been ignoring, to focus on my actual problems. If the League had me as their shiny new toy, what were the others up to? Back with the World Government? Other private groups? Perhaps they¡¯d run off to another city to try to avoid the life I led.


    With a grunt, I left the workshop, fully geared up once more.


    I was split between wanting to live for the future, and striving to find out what the past was so that I could bury it.


    Roxy emerged from the house with the hobgoblin in tow. She was practically salivating over what our evening might encompass. I had to admit, I enjoyed the time we fought alongside each other. Given that I started out intending to be her sidekick, it made sense that we would now become a duo instead. A fiery melee heavyweight, and a mid-range gadget-spewing super soldier.


    I did need more gadgets, however. A few more grenades.


    ¡°You ready, Dubs?¡±


    With a nod, I gestured towards my vehicle.


    ¡°Oh,¡± she said, stopping in place, causing Teeba to almost walk straight into her.


    I turned to see why, but received the message through my lens a second later.


    Our manager, giving us the briefing of my next¡ªand final¡ªtrial.

 91 - Backscratching

    For the longest time, getting communication from the League was a thing to be wary of. A jump scare, almost, where we expected to be put through the wringer. After Roxy and I had read through the vague briefing that our manager had sent over¡­ it was almost uncomfortable to say that we were excited about the potential mission.


    In two days'' time, I¡¯d face my final trial to become a superhero officially. Only, I wouldn¡¯t be taking it alone. The mission was for the whole group. All five of us acting together. The League intended to kill two birds with one stone, so that they could also approve my induction into the super group at the same time as becoming a hero. If the mission went as planned, we would all be called in to a meeting on the day after.


    The actual details of what they wanted us to do were to be left until the day, apparently, which in my mind made it sound like something very real rather than a scenario concocted specifically to test us.


    Roxy had immediately sent the others a formal request to get their asses to our house tomorrow. One day wasn¡¯t much time to train, but we¡¯d push them to make the effort. It made our moonlighting tonight even more important. More than two people finding some joy in violence, at least.


    As I drove away from the hobgoblin settlement, I wondered how much I should be wary of Roxy¡¯s murderous streak. In some ways, it had been my fault. She had always had to hold back in fights¡ªlike the League wanted¡ªso she didn¡¯t turn everyone to paste on first contact. I had held her hand and pulled her toward breaking mutants in half, and it hadn¡¯t taken her long to set that as a new normal.


    With her lava powers, I wasn¡¯t sure how she intended to go back to ordinary hero work, but then the League might have other plans for her. A bridge we¡¯d completely obliterate once we got to it.


    The excitement of it made the trip over to the hobgoblins feel like it took no time at all. While cautious at first, they were then surprised at Teeba now having a voice. Being a man of my word seemed to wash over the fact I had recently been there to beat a bunch of them up. They had taken up making some basic weapons with the forge, and my lens picked up the training dummies off at the side. Good.


    After hearing of our hospitality, we made small talk with some of the hobs¡¯ while Teeba went to speak with his partner privately. Roxy wasn¡¯t that keen on socialising, but after I roped her into a story with a joke, she relaxed somewhat and settled into being herself. Before she had the chance to stick her foot in her mouth, the council agreed to meet us.


    It went exactly how I wanted it to. How could it not?


    The fact that the quake-wagon was now rolling across the wastes barely illuminated by the moon in a direction that was opposite to our house was proof enough. They would need certain blueprints to make the molds, and some more details on the metals and processing needed¡­ but they would make my bullets and anything else I required, as long as I upheld my terms.


    First port of call was erasing the tribe threatening to raid them in the near future.


    Roxy had been hoping it was just a group of simple mutants, of whatever varying flavor. Something that wouldn¡¯t really register on the danger level with how far we had both come. We both knew that she alone could mop up most things that didn¡¯t have a superpower, or tech that could negate her extreme strength. If the League wanted us to clear up the wastes, then Roxy could be a one-woman army now that she had warmed up to murdering things.


    Much to her chagrin, it wasn¡¯t going to be that easy tonight. Which secretly made me happy.


    Not because it meant my presence was required and beneficial, but because part of me yearned to scrape myself up against odds that could end my life. A death wish that would never come true.


    The hobgoblins, who I now knew went by the tribal name Ironforged, had said the raiding group was called the Gnashing Horde. The super had given me a shrug; not a group she¡¯d heard of. As more details were given to us, her face had fallen, however. There were no lines to read behind, as the description was tightly bound. Full of our bloody future.


    Lizardkin weren¡¯t that uncommon, but most of their ancestries were part of normal society. People like Hal. The Gnashing Horde were one of the few who wanted to live amongst the wastelands. They saw it as their birthright. Their place to rule. While their numbers were few and they couldn¡¯t take over swathes of land because of it, the members they did have were a dozen steps above most mutants.


    After generations of surviving and training in the harsh wastes, even their adolescents would be classed as having Advanced ability. Kirrix Lizardkin also had longer lifespans than most others of similar ancestry, were usually led by a coven of magic-using shamans, and had exceptional durability.


    I was reasonably confident that Roxy could still punch everything in the face and that¡¯d be us done, but she wasn¡¯t so sure. As the vehicle rocked against the next dune that we rose over, she sighed for the thirtieth time.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just the magic users,¡± she said, looking out at the darkness. ¡°When I¡¯m focusing on my lava being up, I¡¯m more¡­ I¡¯m stupider.¡±


    [I doubt they¡¯ll be asking us general knowledge questions as a method of attack.]


    She rolled her eyes. ¡°C¡¯mon, Dubs. I¡¯m not exactly the most tactically intelligent gal around. Running hot turns me into more of a liability.¡±


    [Well, that¡¯s why you have me, isn¡¯t it?]


    Roxy didn¡¯t reply at first, but turned to look at me, her fiery eyes trying to read my expression. ¡°There are many reasons, Dubs. But if you want to guide my fists, then I¡¯ll listen and do as you ask¡ªI probably won¡¯t have the brain cells to debate over if your request is shit or not, though.¡±


    [You know you don¡¯t have to use your new powers, right?


    Another moment of silence filled the interior of my vehicle as she turned her gaze down to her hands. She shrugged. ¡°I think you know the answer to that.¡±


    Of course I did. In some ways, we were similar. It would be like her saying I didn¡¯t need to find out about my past to live as I was now. Her lava power was who she was, down to the bones. Part of her that had been inert so long, that she had rushed into bringing it out to the maximum, even to her detriment. Hoping to feel complete. Despite my living for being more than a killer, that life was also saturated through my being. It was something shadowing our lives on the day to day.


    Plus, seeing her in action¡­ perhaps I could get some ideas about how to kill her.


    Roxy was still the strongest hero I had met. Even Silhouette, while an S-Rank, I felt his power lay in more of his advantage of surprise. It was like my Smoke shots. A piece of technology that wasn¡¯t that strong on the surface, but against enemies relying on their sight to fight against me, it almost erased any chance they had.


    The super had even warned me that when I became an official hero, there would be villains and gangs who would scour any public information available about me and prepare for my abilities to try to neuter my advantages. Goggles similar to the ones I used to see outlines in the smoke. Ballistic shields. That kind of thing.


    Then she had scowled as the sparkles in my eyes told her that I was awaiting that eventuality with open arms. Every gamble won just made me stronger.


    [Tonight will be fine. We¡¯ll stick together and support one another. It¡¯s unlikely we¡¯ll both die.]


    ¡°Take out priority targets first. Cause confusion and chaos. Always keep within eyesight of each other.¡± She repeated the three simple instructions we had agreed on. Even her brute-brain would remember that.


    [We have five minutes and we¡¯ll be there. Anything else you wanted to discuss?]


    ¡°Ehh.¡± She sunk back in the seat and deflated. ¡°I love you, asshole. You¡¯re both a bad influence and a good one, and I¡¯m crazy about that. We¡¯re going to murder a bunch of dickbags to set up an illegal foundry so you can make knock-off super killing bullets. And then tomorrow we¡¯re training with our friends to get our team back up the rankings and being better heroes for the city.¡±


    [I¡¯m going to make pizza as well.]


    ¡°Fuck.¡± She closed her eyes and smiled. ¡°Maybe we should spend that mouth-money on getting you some defensive bullshit so you don¡¯t die on me. I don¡¯t deal with heartbreak well.¡±


    [There are advantages to both. Let¡¯s see how the next week or two shakes out. I love you, Roxy.]


    ¡°Yeah?¡± She tilted her head toward me, eyes opening. ¡°Not going to gush about why you do. Death flag this shit up?¡±


    I shrugged and dimmed the headlamps. There were pricks of light ahead.


    [I¡¯m quite fond of your ass.]


    She snorted and exhaled. ¡°Shithead. Where¡¯s that poetic side of you gone, bard?¡±


    [Sorry, I only have one thing on my mind right now.]The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°My ass?¡±


    [No, we are approaching the¡­ well, now it is, yes. Their camp is ahead, however.]


    Her smile softened slightly as she leaned forward and squinted. ¡°My eyes must still be recovering. I can only just about make the light out.¡±


    While some jabs about her needing glasses floated to the top of my active mind, they didn¡¯t make it to my vocalizer. Despite my confidence and assurances, I had to cool my temperament now that the violence was looming and very real. This would be dangerous, and I had been downplaying that. Roxy might gripe that magic was her weakness, and she¡¯d be short range and mentally dulled due to her ability¡­ I was still close to base human durability.


    Sure, I could live through wounds that would kill most, and recover in no time at all - but I still took that damage. It would only take an unfavorable flip of the coin for me to hit the limit of what I could endure, and that was leagues below what the super could withstand. She wanted me to guide her like she was a toddler, but it was me that needed babysitting through this fight.


    [Chances of you being able to leap?]


    She winced and sat back. ¡°Not¡­ likely. I mean I could, but it¡¯s something I haven¡¯t really been able to do while my lava is out. There are some temporary limitations with it until I¡¯ve mastered control. Mobility and brainpower, for the most part.¡± The super seemed rather glum about this.


    [Understood.]


    It would have been nice to have Clara along for the ride, but I hadn¡¯t brought the drone. Repairs hadn¡¯t been done on it, and I had the feeling she¡¯d be looking to replace it instead. We had wanted a more combat-capable model for a while, and this was a good excuse. By this time, she should be done with her realtor or whomever she was meeting, but she needed the rest rather than be monitoring us in the midst of combat.


    ¡°Hey, Dubs?¡±


    [Yes, dear?]


    Roxy placed her hand on my leg gently. ¡°I bet I get more kills than you.¡±


    I raised my eyebrow and shot her a glance. There wasn¡¯t a confident smirk on her face or a knowing scowl. She looked enamored. This was a date night. A terrible activity for Goldarch''s next neo-villain duo. We were skirting a dangerous line, and I would pile drive us into the dirt. I never claimed to be a good guy, and I was coming to realize exactly what I was willing to do for this love I had somehow found.


    [Winner gets to pick what we do for our next date night.]


    The super smiled and gave my thigh a squeeze before moving her hand away. ¡°You¡¯re on, motherfucker.¡±


    I flicked the switch that turned my headlights from a pale white to a bright green. Branding was everything, and if we were going to do this, then we¡¯d do it in style. Roxy clenched and unclenched her hands as I pressed my foot further on the accelerator. The lights ahead were now clearly campfires, three of them set around groupings of tents.


    The problem with soft cover was that it didn¡¯t really protect you from much. Like, for example, my truck moving at speed. I hit the brakes and slid to the side before we committed vehicular manslaughter, kicking up a cloud of dusty sand with the wheels. While most temporary camps could be knocked down in a stiff breeze, the Gnashing Horde had survived the wastes for enough time to know better.


    Thanks to the brighter headlights, I had seen their defenses before I rammed straight into them. Wooden barricades of spiked metal, arranged just after a shallow ditch encircling the camp. Most of the blockades were crossed beams, but a few were solid walls.


    Our entrance had no chance of being a silent one, and I wasn¡¯t surprised to see the lizardkin already moving out, their bodies and shadows flickering through the defenses and fireplaces. They would have had someone out on watch, but we had gotten close enough that they weren¡¯t fully prepared for our arrival.


    Roxy¡¯s side of the wagon was facing the camp, and she popped open the door. I stepped out into the darkness of the side that was not visible to the camp. Useful for if I wanted cover, but if I was going to get stuck into the fray, it at least allowed the super to get the attention of everyone first.


    I circled the front of the van, just as several large metallic thunks struck the wide panels of the van beside Roxy. Thick arrows had embedded into the side of my vehicle. My chamber clacked back and forth, loading in a metal ball. They had become my ammunition of choice for killing soft targets, so we¡¯d see how they fared against the more durable lizardkin.


    As Roxy growled out, her legs braced against the ground as if she was going to shoot off like a rocket, I gave the camp area a quick once over.


    They had three or four small towers¡ªstacked wood that stood barely above the height of the tents, but gave the ranged Horde members a better view to use their weapons. All of them were currently occupied by bow-wielding lizardkin. The solid cover on this side of the camp was bustling with silhouetted figures holding metal spears and other sharp melee weapons. No sign of the magic-using leaders, which was a problem.


    The tribe themselves were tall¡ªperhaps six foot five, at the least. Broad shoulders, long tails, small protruding horns along their sharp faces. The light from the campfires glinted across the thick scales that weren¡¯t covered in leathers and furs. Eye colors ranged from pale yellow to bright amber to sinister red. Pointed teeth. The whole package, really.


    Roxy¡¯s arms burst into flame before they glowed, starting in patches before both limbs were swirling super-heated lava. She didn¡¯t need to wait for my signal. As soon as she was confident that she had the power under control, she ran forward. Another two arrows struck my wagon, while a third hit the super and bounced off. Drips of lava fell from her arms as she ran, hitting the sand and cooling to dark rock.


    I was briefly enamored and in awe, before I followed along behind her. The ranged users either hadn¡¯t spotted me or saw the raging super as a bigger threat. Her primary role was to get us into the camp.


    With a small jump, she hopped over the ditch and burst through the spiked barricade as if it was the ribbon at the end of a marathon. Splintered wood cracked and fell to the side¡ªsome of it smoldering¡ªas she approached the first solid wall full of lizardkin.


    Overcharge hummed into life and I shot out ahead of her, the wooden wall of the first palisade punctured by the steel sphere, hopefully damaging one of the opponents behind. As the chamber clacked back and forth, the tiny arms of the selectloader mechanism fed in a Smoke shot.


    Roxy was a runaway train and raised back a burning fist as she met the barricade. The tribe members had been expecting it, however. The wall fell forward towards her, revealing the group that had been gathered there.


    Four lizardkin with spears, who lowered the pointed weapons to meet her. Behind them, two further fighters with raised bows. Any notion that it was interesting to fight enemies that used actual tactics zipped away just as quickly as they released their projectiles, almost point blank at the super.


    She didn¡¯t have the time to dodge. One ran through her right shoulder, the second her forearm barely intercepted before it could pierce through her throat. This second arrow immediately fell to the ground, the tip completely melted and still glowing. As she stepped forward, roaring at the prickled group of spears, the first arrow also dropped away.


    Even from behind her, I could see the small circle of lava now glowing brightly from her wound. Despite the wake of heated air I was moving through, I shivered. I didn¡¯t really question how or why her lava worked, but now I was curious.


    Smoke shot went off to the left side of camp as we angled toward the right. Roxy wouldn¡¯t be able to work in the obscuring fog, so keeping a part of it where we weren¡¯t fighting out of the picture was the best I could do. If only I had some grenades.


    The super connected with the spear-wielding group. Her hands extended, she melted through their defenses. As they tried to make a tactical retreat, it was too late. Her first punch lashed forward and struck one that looked to have been wounded and slowed by my ball shot.


    His whole head exploded, the smell of burning flesh and leather immediately following. Even the swing of her attack had droplets of the molten rock spray across the other lizardkin able to make more distance from her. Well practiced movements, I could tell just from this brief scuffle. Almost respected it, but I was pissed as hell that they were escaping my squadmate.


    Tazer shot zipped past her and struck the legs of the formation trying to decide how best to approach her next time. The sparking arcs of blue briefly stunned them, keeping them in place. That was enough for Roxy to catch up to two more of them. A straight punch cored through the chest of one, while a follow-up kick sent the broken body of the second Horde member far out of the camp and into the darkness beyond.


    I made the note that her lava-imbued attacks seemed to be hot enough to melt through things but that it dissipated a lot of her normal force that her strength allowed. Just the difference between the punches and her kick was telling enough. Perhaps with practice she could lower the core temperature so that she could find a happy medium-


    Any further musings over what Roxy was capable of were cut short as I realized that we were being drawn into a trap. Boxes and other barricades to my right were hiding at least a dozen more opponents waiting for us to get in too deep. Then they¡¯d circle and surround us.


    It was almost a shame we had to murder them all. The League would probably have a dim view of me organizing my own small army, however. While the Gnashing Horde still lived, I would sup from all their knowledge being put into action. Notes taken for tomorrow from their very skulls.


    I slid to a stop and raised my gun-arm up, dropping to a knee. An arrow whizzed past my head, and I returned the favor by firing on the closest barricade with a High Explosive shot. It burst and shattered apart, knocking a couple of the revealed enemy onto their backs, but the others weren¡¯t so easily shaken.


    [Watch our left.]


    Assuming I was right about the trap, there would be another large group now behind me. I couldn¡¯t let Roxy get sidetracked with the two bow-users dragging her deeper into the camp. She gave me a grunt of acknowledgement. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her reach down and grab a handful of the ground, to throw it at the two who were avoiding her.


    The smell was bad enough. I didn¡¯t have enough time to see how that had worked out or what it had achieved. Instead, I rolled across the cool sand to avoid another pair of arrows zipping my way. My body found some brief cover behind some of the ruined spike barricade, and another arrow buried itself halfway through one of the logs beside me.


    Roxy was right. I needed some protection from ranged attacks as well. Gone were the days I could march myself through a criminal hideout and blast through bog standard humanoids. Now my life was this.


    I watched the super kick a crate into a group of lizardkin, flame flickering around her head now.


    My arm vibrated as Triple shot loaded in three shells. Now that she was going off in a different direction, I¡¯d work on my own advantages. I twisted and stood, my V-Drive bursting with energy as I fired off all three shots in a row. Smoke. Incendiary. Tazer.


    I received an arrow in my left arm in return. It cut straight through my thick jacket and hit the bone. They were quick and decent shots, I¡¯d have to give them that. Without the time to consider removing it, I sprinted from my location toward the billowing cloud of gray. I only had a few seconds before they regained their composure, and I had to get in amongst them before they could regroup or receive assistance from the other nearby group.


    With the sounds of shouting and Roxy¡¯s growling in the background, I entered the dense cloud. I had wanted to switch magazines on the way in, but my left arm was now stiff and painful from the lodged arrow. Outlined shapes of the lizardkin in disarray popped into my lens. The Incendiary hadn¡¯t done much except start a couple of small fires on the ruined wooden debris¡­ I needed an oil shot or similar.


    I lashed forward, near-jabbing the closest Horde fighter. Fired a metal ball, resulting in a soft thud and crack. Enough to break bones, but not rupture through their scales. Shit.


    My arm shuddered as I grasped for a new mag, my fingers feeling numb. Ejected the drum mag to the ground. While my hand went to insert the replacement ammunition, one of the outlines wavered, and suddenly collided with me. I stumbled and lost my footing, falling over backward.


    Pain through my head, my vision sparkling and fuzzy as my skull struck one of the harder bits of defensive wood on the way down. I¡¯d also dropped the magazine on my short journey to the ground.


    As the outline of my assailant wavered above me, a purple light bloomed into their hands, illuminating the gray fog and the two rows of sharp teeth grinning down at me.

 92 - Date Night

    Take out priority targets first. Cause confusion and chaos. Always keep within eyesight of each other.


    I had managed to break one of the agreed rules almost immediately. Maybe I was too used to working solo that I just went with the most efficient way of getting myself ahead in a fight. Now obscured by a cloud of my own making against a group of lizardkin that I¡¯d barely dented, I didn¡¯t need Detect Magic to know the glowing spell of purple energy was nothing good.


    At least I had found one of the magic users, however.


    The cloud of gray smoke billowed as an unnatural wind swirled around us, parting enough of it to get a better look at my opponent¡ªor perhaps they were waiting to get a good look at me before attacking. Slightly taller than their fellow Horde members, eyes a dazzling white in contrast, and a peculiar fashion sense. I had expected robes and feathered headdresses, but instead they were covered in plated metal like a knight.


    Curious, but that¡¯s all I needed to know.


    As their hand raised, the glowing purple ball threatening me injury and death, my left hand shakily lifted in protest.


    Rappel shot out from my gauntlet, striking their magic-wielding hand. Foam expanded immediately, unable to harden as the spell burst in place. A flash of light ran through the smoke cloud as the spellcaster shrieked and stepped back, clutching at the smoldering stump where their hand had been.


    I rolled to the side and staggered back up to my feet. The scream of pain would have been an alarm signal for the rest of the camp. I couldn¡¯t even see if Roxy was doing fine. As I spun on my heel, I could see the red eyes glowing through the gray. The group I had been trying to attack had regrouped and were coming for me.


    Stims washed through my system, bringing some brief life to my left arm. I had managed to tear the arrow out of the wound while I rolled, and now whatever tech bullshit ran through my bloodstream gradually put the muscles and tendons back together. I was unaware as to where my metal ball drum or the HE shot mag had gotten to during the scuffle. Time to reset and go back to the first plan.


    Selectloader put in a Quake shot and I struck the group ready to tear me to pieces. The smoke wavered back and forth in tune with the pulses of heavy V-Force aftershock, but I turned and ran. Hand pulled out a new mag and inserted it as I burst out from the smoke and into the clear light of night.


    Several places in the camp were now on fire, or painted with the deep red gore of the lizardkin. There was also a small group of four in between me and wherever the super had gotten to. Two facing her way, two mine¡ªwaiting to see if I would emerge from the cloud.


    And I had, at great speed.


    Tazer shot struck them, causing their muscles to flinch, delaying them long enough to get in close. My synapses flared up, and I lashed forward with a quick punch, the end of my barrel cratering through the eye socket of the first, cracking open his skull. My momentum knocked him to the floor as I turned to the next. I grabbed his thick leather shirt with my left hand, pulling him closer by the collar. The gauntlet blade popped out and into his neck, but only barely cut through his scales.


    They were regaining their senses now. Tazer shot once again into the other two as the one I had my hands on started to pull back against my attempts to tip him over. We struggled for a moment, before he lashed forward with an open mouth. I gave him some food for thought by putting my hand in there, trying to push his lower jaw down away from sinking into my neck.


    Even his jaw muscles were strong, and he resisted my attempts to prevent an attack, his sharp teeth breaking through the bottom of my gloves and into my fingers. Before he could chomp down fully, I shot the retracted rappel again.


    Clara had been impressed with my usage of it on the rescue mission yesterday. She told me that if she had known I was going to use it as an offensive weapon so often, she would have made the rappel head pointed. It shouldn¡¯t affect the normal usage much, but could pierce soft targets. The techie had then pouted, as I said she should have known me well enough to assume I¡¯d turn everything into a weapon.


    Still, I made do with how it worked now.


    The lizarkdin found out just how inventive I was, as his mouth filled with expanding foam. As he panicked and tried to move back, it hardened. While he struggled and choked, I turned my gun-arm to the two wavering beside us and recovering again. Tazer didn¡¯t seem to be too effective, but at least gave me a brief window to act. Nerve would have been a decent choice, but I doubted the parts of the projectile that administered the drug would be able to get through their scales.


    I needed some anti-armor bullshit. More homework for Clara.


    As Overcharge powered up and the suffocating Horde member sunk to the ground, a meteor drew my attention. It was heading right for-


    Dry sand burst up from the ground around us as a wave of heated air buffeted this small group. I winced in realizing it hadn¡¯t been a spell, but Roxy landing just in front of us. Her arms were glowing with higher intensity now, a near constant stream of lava running and dripping to the sands. Her head was aflame with a flickering red, and her eyes were almost as bright as the lava. She had several patches on her body¡ªmuch like the arrow wound from the start¡ªthat were also glowing amber.


    While the three of us who were still standing gawked at her sudden appearance, her hands came together and she pulped the heads of the two in front of me. They melted away as soon as she touched them, so it was more like clapping her hands once the burning pulp met in the middle, but it did spray me with a little of the molten rock.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she said through clenched teeth, unable to formulate more words than that.


    I nodded and released the rappel, the foam substance melting away as my grapple system tried to reel in the inert head of the dead lizardkin. Thankfully, her lava droplets cooled rather quickly when not on her body, and hadn¡¯t managed to burn all the way through my jacket. This was something we¡¯d need to take into account, however.


    [There¡¯s an injured caster behind me. Status your end?]


    ¡°All dead, one caster,¡± she grunted. The super then turned to her side so that I could see the faint glow of purple in two streaks fighting against the radiance of her lava across her back.


    I didn¡¯t doubt that she had no problem turning the rest to melted mush. While she-


    By instinct, I rolled to the floor. An arrow whizzed overhead and struck the super. She growled as it fell away, the head of the projectile glowing as it had softened from the heat.


    I continued up to a crouched position, some odd anger rising through me. Reaction to a threat I had only subconsciously understood. Overcharge whirred into life just as I forced Triple shot at the same time. I could feel the V-Force drive humming and vibrating in my arm, pushing it a little too far.


    We had given our allies enough warning. I told Belle that I¡¯d be out with Roxy, and not to worry if the charm signaled I was in danger. It wasn¡¯t like she had a way to get out here anyway. She told me she would take it off, because knowing but not being able to help would be too stressful. Roxy had told Clara not to monitor my vitals, for a similar reason. We were doing this off the books as much as possible. Just two dangerous people kicking over sandcastles.


    The smoke had just about cleared now, revealing a regiment of the Gnashing Horde. Rather than rush after me, they had shown restraint and fallen back to assist their wounded leader. What lizardkin remained in the camp had joined them, and now they formed a group of maybe two dozen. A row of spears in a crouched position, with a row holding bows standing behind them. The wounded spellcaster was there too, glaring at us with intense hatred.


    It wasn¡¯t any of them I was particularly worried about, however.


    There was another, a third spellcaster, perhaps. I could sense their presence clearer than anything that I had through Detect Magic previously. They were super level, I was sure of it. The problem was, I couldn¡¯t see them.


    I wasn¡¯t sure if it was even invisibility. Not in a magical or technological sense. There was just this large¡­ my brow furrowed. They weren¡¯t attacking just yet.


    At first, I was expecting some dialogue, but the spellcaster didn¡¯t look like they cared for small talk. With the space they had left between us, perhaps they were waiting for¡­ oh.


    I felt it through my feet before my brain put the puzzle pieces together.


    [Move, there¡¯s a-]


    My warning cut off as the ground burst apart, knocking us both back. What light the fires had provided dimmed, or was blocked out by the large shape that emerged from the floor, rising to a good thirty feet. Silhouetted against the night sky was a giant wastesworm.


    I¡¯d heard of them in passing. A mix of a tapeworm and a caterpillar that buried their way through the wastelands. Usually a dozen or so foot long and trouble avoidant. This one was easily five times that length, and covered in dense scales much like the lizardkin themselves. Now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see odd purple runic symbols etched around all these plate-like parts of its body.


    The Gnashing Horde had tamed and grown this monster, probably over decades. An ace up their sleeve and surefire help when raiding or defending their group when in dire trouble. Like right now.


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen bigger,¡± Roxy murmured through clenched teeth.


    It was good to know her humor persisted through this transformation. She wasn¡¯t as dense as she had first made out that she would be. It looked more like she was trying to focus while having a migraine, rather than her intelligence actually cratering.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    [I¡¯ll leave you to handle that first then, since you¡¯re more experienced.]


    Her grimace peaked at the edges to reveal a half-smile as she glanced at me. ¡°Don¡¯t die, asshole.¡±


    I tipped an invisible hat and then ran. The worm seemed content enough to see the super as the most important and threatening morsel, which was fine with me. Overcharge faded away, giving the drive a well-deserved break. Triple shot would be enough on its own for now.


    That was a brief lie, but I had a renewed confidence. Mostly because the stakes just got even higher, and that had the effect of calming me. As I tried to circle the unearthed pit where the monster had emerged, my lens picked out the discarded magazines, which had been knocked away. I slid across the dry ground as a pair of arrows whistled overhead.


    Mag into my hand, then into my gun-arm, I swirled around and flexed in the direction of the regiment. Triple Smoke. This time, I wasn¡¯t about to wander in and get injured. But now they couldn¡¯t see anything. Chamber clacked open, ejecting three empty shells with force, before the magazine loaded in a High Explosive shot. I strode toward some nearby cover, firing off into the smoke as I went.


    Shell after shell, the bursting sound and yells of pain and panic told me that these shots were effective. Shame I had only brought the single ten mag of them.


    The world vibrated as the wastesworm slammed into the ground, trying to eat up the super. At a glance, the monster had two lines of overheated metal across some of its plates, but Roxy had been unable to pierce through it just yet. I paused and turned to observe her properly.


    Always keep each other in sight.


    She looked¡­ different. As if she was cooling off. Her glow had diminished, and her arms were slightly slack. Her first proper fight using her new abilities, and she was learning her current limits. I might need to come assist.


    An arrow ricocheted from my metal shoulder, and I winced. A lucky shot. As a second arrow struck the wooden barricade just beside me, I figured they had a way of locating me despite the fog. I sighed and ducked down, not wanting to invite a headshot. If only I had grenades.


    The worm swept through the area, destroying the burning campground on that left side, piling things up as it pushed the super away in a cloud of raised dust and debris. I got a good look at its face now. A circular maw, smaller teeth within, but the Gnashing Horde had seen fit to do a little dental work on the beast, and it sported a more overt circular row of metal fangs just on the outside of its mouth. No eyes or any other features I could really make out.


    I wondered if it was mostly autonomous now, or required the spellcasters being alive to keep it doing as it was told. A thought that sunk away as my current cover was peppered by another handful of arrows. One of which broke through the wood, the metal tip stopping an inch away from me.


    We were truly having a time of it. Roxy¡¯s furnace had run out of fuel and was draining away at her strength. Most of my ammunition was ineffective, and I was outnumbered and outranged. I almost wished I had a mouth so that I could smile.


    This was the type of situation that could change me. Break off the shell to see what lies within. Perhaps a corpse in training, but I was willing to gamble that I wasn¡¯t yet at my peak. I hoped Boss was watching somehow, so I could give him the middle finger for whatever happened to me.


    I peeked from the side of my cover and allowed Reflex to burn through my thoughts, my synapse controlled parts acting with greater speed. I emptied the rest of the ten mag into the obscuring cloud, peppering the group at intervals with exploding rounds. The mag ejected, hitting the ground, just as I pawed in another. Clara might be mad at me for this one.


    Trying to ignore the fight going on behind me, I continued to pace toward the regiment. Gun-arm loaded in the top-most projectile from the magazine. While these were just prototypes and not meant to be used, I had stolen the case of metal cylinders that Clara had shown me in the workshop. A variety of different shaped ends, but most of them sharp. I¡¯d explain to her I was doing in-field testing, and request she make one of them to be our designated anti-armor round.


    I was sixty percent sure she would buy it.


    An arrow flew past the side of my head, before a second bounced from my gun-arm. I returned the favor, aiming where the last projectile had emerged from. The lens made it easy to calculate the projectiles trajectory and potential point of origin, even if my eyes weren¡¯t too sharp in this low-light situation.


    The metal beamed out from my barrel and into the gray mist. A screech of pain. Clack-clack. Second shot went out into the fog. An arrow came out and struck me in the collarbone, just skirting the cybernetic part of my neck. I returned fire, killing them. There were no more arrows after this.


    Not because all their bow-users were dead, I was sure. But they were intelligent and could see I was working out where they were when they fired. My mood cooled, even as warm blood soaked through my undershirt.


    I went to take another step, and a pulse of energy washed over my feet. Thick vines emerged from the ground, wrapping themselves around my lower legs to pin me in place. The slight hint of purple to the vegetation was all the clue I needed to know that it was-


    A lizardkin burst out from the cloud of fog, spear ready to lash into me as he roared. I put the third metal object straight through his chest, assuming his heart was in the same place as most humanoids. The way he stumbled and flopped over at my feet, his eyes shocked and staring, determined it was a reasonable assumption.


    Two arrows struck me in the chest.


    One hit a rib, the other was dulled by my tac gear, but still cut through to the muscle.


    Oh, smart. They had baited out my shot, so they could fire while I was reloading, and now they¡¯d reposition, so even if I shot, I¡¯d probably miss. Analyze ran through my brain, picking out these details of the fight, able to read their tactics as if I had sat in on their training. As I was unable to move, it was easy for them to pick out their target, even from within the smoke.


    They hadn¡¯t been able to see through it before, so something must have changed. I felt the edges of threads wanting to be pulled, just out of reach. There was so much magic swirling through the area that part of my aura was almost overwhelmed. The giant worm was coated with it. My legs were encased with it. The spellcaster ahead of me¡­


    While my overactive brain still dabbled amongst the granular parts of this battle, I caught a glimpse of what I was after. Like bringing up the electrical circuit of something, some of the magical components in the campground had a connection. Like threads or wires, the magic-user in the fog had tethers to all the living lizardkin around them. There was one running from there down to my feet as well. A few faint ones in the direction of the monster.


    It was a merger of Detect Magic and Analyze. No, something even greater than that. More than the ability to just see the underlying connections of the arcane, I had the strength to¡­ or could I?


    A pain shot through my head, and at first I thought I¡¯d caught an arrow while my thoughts spun like a whirlpool. But no, there was no projectile. Blood ran through my nose, going directly into my re-breather, as the pulse of agony in my skull repeated, dulling slightly as time went on.


    From the fog, an arrow emerged, missing me by several feet.


    My first active spell.


    I felt tender now, as if I had stepped into a warm shower. Relaxed. I had plucked out another part of my past, and it had hurt. But it was about to get much worse for the lizardkin.


    My left arm went up toward the smoke. Gun-arm switched the pole of edged metal with an Incendiary shot, and blew through the vines restraining me. They twitched and sunk away from me as if in pain. Rappel fired out from my gauntlet and into the mist, colliding with my intended target. The spellcaster.


    I walked forward, my lens readying to pick up the outlines of the remaining Gnashing Horde. Selectloaded the sharpened stake back in. Overcharge burned through my V-Force drive. Now I had a tether directly to who I needed to erase, and it slowly tried to draw him towards me.


    Feeling like I was on the top of the world, Reflex kicked in again, and I entered the dense smoke.


    Eight targets remaining. Arm up and I powered the tube of steel through the neck of the magic-user. Turned and loaded the last of the prototype ammunition, coring two lizardkin with one shot. I rolled to the ground and picked up a discarded spear, loading it down my barrel like a harpoon shot. Overcharge shook as I fired the long projectile through three of my enemies.


    Despite their tactical training, this was more than their morale could take. Able to sense the demise of their group, even if they couldnt see them. One of them barked orders to retreat in a language I didn¡¯t know, but understood all too well.


    [Kr¡¯aad slul, ghrads.]


    My eyebrows furrowed as I wavered in place. I had told them to never come near the city again. But, how? Through my lens, I watched them move away.


    Hmm. No, I had made a deal with the hobgoblins.


    They were broken, and before they could leave the cloud of gray, I ran them all through. No survivors allowed. I stepped from the triple fog into clearer air, covered with both my own blood, and theirs.


    The worm lay dead, part of its throat area blown through and tore out. It had bled a lot, painting the area with a weird red-green mucus. Against a few crates that had somehow survived the battle, the super sat slouched, her head hanging low.


    I stumbled over; the adrenaline sinking away and allowing me to feel all the pain I had earned during the battle. As much as it would have been nice to help her with the giant monster, I knew my place in this kind of fight. I was a covert assassin, not a giantslayer. The best I could do was take out the magic users and potential distractions. And I had.


    With a grunt, I kneeled down beside her.


    [You doing alright there, princess?]


    ¡°Fuck off,¡± she murmured. No energy to it. She sounded like she was half asleep.


    I gave her a once over to see how badly injured she was. Her arms were encased with cooled rock, dark brown. She hadn¡¯t flexed it off. Most of her suit was covered in the gross mucus of the dead worm, but there were a few marks of deep red from the wounds she had sustained. From the looks of it, the lava form weakened some of her durability in exchange for the intense temperature. She could usually brush off gunshots, so a few arrows and spears shouldn¡¯t have left a dent.


    No bone breaks or severe trauma, but I estimated some bruising would show up tomorrow. With my gloved left hand, I put my fingers beneath her chin and lifted her head up. Yeah, she looked exhausted as shit. She glared at me with barely open eyes, which were dull rather than fiery.


    [I will lift you now, and take you to the quake-wagon.]


    ¡°No,¡± she murmured, her mouth turning down at the edges.


    [You want to stay here a while?]


    Roxy shook her head softly and close her eyes fully. ¡°No, just don¡¯t¡­ call it that¡­ dork.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose in lieu of a smile. Something slightly diminished due to the dried blood in that tube. Another day when she was at her weakest. For a change, I didn¡¯t consider ways in which I could kill her right now. At present, she wasn¡¯t a powerful super that could be a threat to me, but my squadmate and partner, who needed my help.


    With plenty of awkwardness, I managed to get her up to her feet and prop her against me. A difficult task with the single hand, but eventually I shuffled her over to the vehicle. The green headlights were still on, painting a stretch on the empty wastes in a comforting hue. I bundled the super into the passenger side¡ªwith only a few complaints¡ªand shook my head at the arrow-holes now in the side of the wagon.


    Things were just destined to go through it around me. Before heading to the driver¡¯s side, I looked back at the camp. Large corpse amongst the smaller ones. Smoke and smoldering wreckage on the outskirts.


    I had used Dispel. Removed whatever magical ability was granting the former Gnashing Horde to see me through the fog. Even more curious than that was the ability to speak their language. Something from my past, or¡­ well, I had an idea what it truly was.


    My aura was three passive abilities. I had already used an extended version of my regeneration when I meditated. Dispel was the active version of my Detect Magic, something along the same route, but with an extra push. As a bard¡­ as the Bard¡­ there was a chance I had Speak Languages or something similar.


    Even thinking now, I didn¡¯t know how to produce the words to speak whatever lizardkin language they had. It had just been something that slipped out after turning my brain to mush in casting my first spell.


    I shook my head again, as if to reset my thoughts. Personal progression was agony, but I had risen up to meet any challenge time and time again. There would be a point where I met my peak, and anything further would just end up getting me killed.


    We both needed practice and training. I needed grenades.


    Before any further malady or surprise could take us, I got in the vehicle and started it up. I now had a metal working factory under my control. Whether the League knew it or not, I just couldn¡¯t help but empire build.


    Next stop was herding the cats and getting them to fight as a team, something that might be even more agonizing than our present date night activities.


    With the warmth of the stims keeping me together, I set off into the darkness.

 93 - Morning Streches

    The shadow loomed over me, the sharp end of a slim knife catching the light. I remained in place, too tired to do much else. Bright green electronic eyes bore into me.


    ¡°You know, Gunquake,¡± Clara said from behind her surgical mask. ¡°If this is to become a daily occurrence, you will need to make it up to me somehow.¡±


    [I apologize, I did not realize my injuries were so extensive.]


    ¡°They are not.¡± She paused to wiggle the scalpel at me. ¡°At least, compared to most of the times I¡¯ve had you on my table. You are just lucky the Gnashing Horde were too prideful to use toxins or laced arrowheads. You both are.¡±


    She gave a glance up past me to where the super was probably still sitting. I couldn¡¯t turn my head at present, but the last I looked, she was slouched over and looked like she hadn¡¯t slept in days. Powdered dust still covered her arms and some of the workshop floor, but the techie had put together some kind of energy drink to help Roxy recover from her minor wounds.


    We had both advised she go sleep, but she had been adamant she stay and wait for me. Partially to gloat that she had won the rights to determine our next date night by killing the most lizardkin. She was correct, of course, but I disputed the fact. I made the note that the wastesworm only counted as one. The annoyance over my disagreement put fuel in her furnace and kept her awake as well. I¡¯d just relent once it was time for bed.


    [You are right, Clara. You¡¯ve been overdoing things and I appreciate all the effort you put in. I¡¯ll make it up to you, and I¡¯ll let you decide how.]


    ¡°Really, Gunquake?¡± She tilted her head and placed the edge of the blade against my bare chest, but didn¡¯t make an incision. ¡°I have the day after your hero test booked off for whatever fallout comes from that.¡± Her eyes went back up to Roxy. ¡°Let me discuss with my handler what exactly I can squeeze out of you.¡±


    The super grunted, but didn¡¯t have a more lucid response at present.


    It was good she has pushed herself, and I was proud of her first time using her lava powers in battle. That short shelf life would improve the more she practiced, but in that brief time she was full power she was something else. I had swung us back past the hobgoblins on the way home to let them know of our success. The state of the two of us left no doubt that we had completed the agreed mission. One of the hob¡¯s introduced as Teeba¡¯s sister could even recognize the taste of wasteworm mucus. Neither of us had the energy to engage with that.


    Before leaving, hailed almost as heroes, I handed Teeba a small device that would allow him to communicate directly with me. Only me. Encrypted. Clara had managed to slide a couple of these into my hand, probably ¡®borrowed¡¯ from the League¡¯s tech department shelves sometime after I had explained my chagrin at not being able to communicate with the mining outpost properly. I¡¯d have to deliver their one soon.


    And thus, my little world was expanding. So close to the actual city, yet still forging my own path. I had a real home protected from all angles. A workshop. Metalworking factory. Mining outpost. We even owned some of that legally. I had come so far from my shack of solitude, yet I wanted more.


    ¡°You¡¯ll both be interested to know¡­¡± Clara began, bringing my thoughts back to the present. ¡°My apartment has a buyer. We¡¯re hoping to close the deal at the end of the week, and I will be spending a chunk of the proceeds on further prefab buildings.¡±


    [As you see fit.]


    She nodded and withdrew the blade. ¡°We¡¯ll run through the specifics when you have more stamina, Gunquake. You¡¯re always more fun when fully energized.¡±


    Although the super didn¡¯t make a sound, the temperature of the room rose a little.


    [What is your diagnosis of my current predicament?]


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Clara twirled the blade around in her fingers idly. ¡°Your physical injuries seem to have healed fine. The actual damage sustained wasn¡¯t too dire for a change, Gunquake. You pushed yourself into casting magic, which is¡­ well, partially disgusting.¡± Even beneath her mask, I could see her face scrunch up. ¡°We do not know the way you are granted magical capabilities, but it seems like forcing it out was mentally taxing. Some amount of trauma. You¡¯ve recovered now, but I would be more careful.¡±


    [I might melt my brain away?]


    ¡°I do not know enough about the subject to give a definite answer.¡± She sighed and placed the scalpel back on the table. ¡°In my professional opinion, you probably cast your spells in your old life through verbal or somatic means¡ªhand signals or the like. By doing it by thought alone, you are pushing the limits of what you should be allowed.¡±


    ¡°Standard,¡± Roxy grunted from the side.


    I didn¡¯t feel like I¡¯d soon grow used to just snipping away at any magical effect nearby. The times I had even run into another magical user were few and far between. A risky ace up my sleeve was better than no option, however.


    [Thank you, Clara. I will be glad of some rest and won¡¯t push myself too far.]


    ¡°No need for brazen lies, Gunquake.¡± She removed her mask and gave me a smile. ¡°You¡¯re among birds of a feather here.¡±


    She was right, there. All three of us were going full speed toward our limits, hoping we could push that line back further and achieve more before falling off the end prematurely. So far, so good, although our lucky streak had to end at some point.


    ¡°I¡¯m thankful that your first actual spell is one that destroys magic, though.¡± Clara stood and moved to the side to remove her apron. ¡°That at least keeps you in the running, Gunquake.¡±


    I didn¡¯t have the energy to prompt her for what that even meant. Instead, I turned my head to the side to see the super. She looked terrible. Only hanging on to the waking world by a thread, and hadn¡¯t even spent the energy to get washed and cleaned yet.


    ¡°You can get up and put your top back on now, Gunquake,¡± the techie mentioned, putting away her tools.


    With a grunt as I sat, I rubbed at my head. Turns out I was exhausted too, but being under threat of the knife had kept me on edge. Now I was eager to get the rest I deserved.


    [Was getting undressed even necessary? I required no surgery or testing.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t argue with your doctor,¡± Clara replied, facing away, but I was sure I caught the edge of a sly grin at the corner of her mouth.


    I shrugged and turned to the super, not really feeling like I wanted to put clothes on, only to go straight to bed, anyway.


    [You won, I relent. The choice of our next date night is yours.]


    A smile crossed her tired face, and she sighed with relief. ¡°Motherfucker,¡± she murmured.


    We waited for Clara to finish packing away before heading to the house. As much as we trusted the new defensive system we had around our home, we had yet to see it in action. My brain slowly turned to mud as we made the journey, but I felt content.


    Next lucid thought running through my mind was how damn bright the sun was. With a groan, I rolled over on the bed. It was morning already? My eyes went over to the super. Still out cold, drooling on the pillow.


    We had both fallen asleep immediately, half dressed in our outfits from last night. The sheets were filthy with the grime and sweat we hadn¡¯t washed off. I hadn¡¯t slept that hard since going through stim withdrawals.


    Relaxing against my pillow, I grabbed down my goggles from the bedpost and put them over my eyes.


    [Ah, shit.]


    Roxy stirred, her eyes barely opening as she frowned at me. ¡°What is it?¡± she groaned.


    [We overslept a little. The rest of the team will be here in fifteen minutes.]


    ¡°Shit, fuck,¡± she groaned and rolled over, putting her hand over her eyes. ¡°Can¡¯t make a bad impression. Let¡¯s rock and roll.¡±


    And thus began the quickest getting ready montage I had ever lived through. Shower went on as we both stripped down, just stepping under the water briefly to wash before we switched. Roxy even dried us both off with a quick pulse of her powers.


    I was standing out in the garden just in time for the cloud of Roy¡¯s approach to be visible. In dire need of a fresh canister, but fully dressed aside from my tactical gear. We¡¯d delay them by offering breakfast, we had agreed. The super could finish making sure she was looking peak form, as I would greet the early guests. Given how much she liked to be on time for things, her stress levels were almost through the roof.


    Clara had already gone off to work, insisting she had even tried to wake us earlier. Perhaps it had been a mistake to run the raid against the lizardkin the day before team training, which was the day before my hero test¡­ but I couldn¡¯t think of a lesson I could learn from it. Maybe pack more grenades?


    //Dubs: Hey, could you pick me up something on your way home later?


    //Clara: Of course, Gunquake.


    //Clara: It¡¯s grenades, isn¡¯t it?


    //Dubs: It is. How did you know?


    //Clara: Just part of the job, don¡¯t overthink it~


    Luckily for her, my brains were still too scrambled to overthink anything. Luckily for me, I¡¯d be getting some grenades.


    Roy slid himself through the dirt area where my hovel used to be. Now in his super outfit once more, he looked every part the hero. ¡°Morning, Dubs. I think I owe you a big fuckin¡¯ thank you, big guy.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    [Do not mention it. Thank me by giving today and tomorrow your all.]


    He gave me a faux-bow, a shit-eating grin on his face. ¡°At your command, my lord. Am I the first here?¡±


    I nodded and gestured to a crate off at the side. Clara had left me explicit instructions about what to do and say when he arrived.


    [How has your solo training been? There is a new version of your fist weapons in the box, but they aren¡¯t finalized yet.]


    ¡°Oh, nice.¡± He looked around, as if the techie might be lurking in the shadows. ¡°Ah, Clara was insistent that I took up some more combat classes in my downtime, so I¡¯ve been doing a few. Was unsure at first because most places wouldn¡¯t accept someone of my speed, but once I got into it¡­ it¡¯s like my zen place, you know?¡±


    [It brings back memories of when you served?]


    He paused as he reached the crate and tilted his head. ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess so. Some sort of order, right? Fuckin¡¯¡­ structure. I suppose you¡¯d know a little about that too, huh?¡±


    I nodded. This super group was a way for me to feel like I had a squad on my side again. Despite my combat efficiency, I knew that I had played a more supportive role in my original group of super-soldiers. Boss had finely tuned me to become a killer in my own right, self-sufficient without any of my granted powers. Now they were coming back, and I was born anew in more ways than one.


    Roy plucked the two fist weapons out of the box and slid them onto his hands, the glove parts covering down to his elbows. They were slightly smaller now, more sleek, with the working parts shrouded better. He immediately went into a boxing pose, hopping lightly on two feet, before leveling a flurry of blows into the open air. Electricity crackled and arced around the gloves, pulsing like lightning with every blow.


    He whistled as he stopped and relaxed. ¡°Do you think it would be rude to ask Clara to make some of these for my feet as well?¡±


    [She would no doubt be on board with that. Her free time is minimal at present, but I will make the request for you.]


    While he nodded his thanks, Roxy emerged from the house and we both turned to greet her.


    ¡°Looking sharp, Rox,¡± the speedster grinned.


    ¡°Eh,¡± Roxy waved him off. ¡°I spent most of the night wrestling a giant worm, so I¡¯m exhausted.¡±


    The Captain raised an eyebrow and looked between the two of us.


    [A wastesworm. We were killing a mutant tribe.]


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°That raises slightly different questions, but I won¡¯t pry.¡±


    As part of the setup of the League granted technology, Clara had set the rest of the team as approved guests. While we had discussed the practicality and humor in not doing so, to see how it dealt with Roy approaching, we decided it was best to start the day on good terms with the others. I had mostly ignored the messages in my lens, as was becoming habit, but on the speedsters arrival had pinged a notification to tell me he was approaching. With a little picture and everything.


    ¡°My new powers need working in,¡± she explained. ¡°Keeping the lava out in the fight is very tiring and I have to keep pushing my resistances up. Murdering mutants is the most ethical way of doing it in a live target environment.¡±


    Roy just pulled a face and nodded. While he had served and seen combat even before becoming a hero, the casual disregard for life Roxy was showing was probably a little out of the blue. I was a bad influence.


    She turned to me and gestured toward the city. She did look her normal self, albeit her eyes weren¡¯t as bright. We had survived the morning rush. ¡°Ren and Belle are coming by car for a change. Until we get a helipad so that her bird doesn¡¯t get so dusty.¡±


    [I am sure that Clara is getting a prefab warehouse shortly. Perhaps I can see if she can get one with such utility on the roof?]


    ¡°Please,¡± she gave me a stoic nod, ¡°do so.¡±


    In the midst of our flurry of activity this morning, we had agreed to prop her up as the leader. I knew there was a real danger of the others seeing me as the one in charge. Roxy had held my face, and told me I was her equal and could be the shadow leader, because she appreciated and trusted my judgements and decisions. That suited me fine. I wanted her to be the face of the group, and it was important for the others to see that I was one of them, also bending the knee.


    It wasn¡¯t long before the vehicle of the other two appeared along the road. The two supers fell into some idle chatter that I tuned out - something about Roy¡¯s first day back in the job and what the League had told him in regards to his return. I mostly thought it was a shame that Clara wasn¡¯t here for the training. While impressive on my own, I really came into my potential with her eyes and ears following me.


    I¡¯d have to make sure the League and her education always allowed for her to be behind me when I was on the job. I didn¡¯t know how she would have the time for everything. If our day together turned out to be her just resting, I¡¯d only be half surprised.


    Despite appearances, I was somewhat nervous. Even as the dark black vehicle rolled up a few spaces apart from my own wagon, I wasn¡¯t sure why. Today was important, sure. Was it because I was relying on others? Perhaps my methods of diving headfirst into danger might cause those close to me trouble? Whatever it was, it almost sunk fully away as the two supers emerged from the heavy duty car.


    Both in their super outfits. Belle in detailed pearlescent robes, her book under her arm already. Ren had her artefact bow with her. Both smiling.


    [Good morning. I hope you are both well.]


    ¡°I was a little wrapped up with work lately,¡± Belle said, giving me a wry smile, ¡°but I¡¯m glad for this break.¡±


    ¡°Work away from work,¡± Ren said, rolling her eyes. ¡°That said, I¡¯d much rather be here than running League nonsense.¡±


    [I¡¯m about to offer breakfast, if you have the appetite. Then we will begin.]


    It turned out that everyone was interested in the proposed food. I found myself in the kitchen, humming away as I juggled several pans and the oven. Roxy would come in occasionally to make sure I was doing fine, which I was. For the most part, the others sat at the garden table and socialized. Their voices were muffled through the kitchen window, but the occasional raised voice and laughs were still enough of a signal that things were good. The group was fixed, even if I died tomorrow. A small win.


    Not that I had any plans to die. Being this close to becoming a hero was exciting, as much as it didn¡¯t feel real. I was a contract killer, reanimated from the near-corpse of a super murderer. Mutilated to be an unknown tool, once fighting for the World Government, and now¡­ fighting against them? My role wasn¡¯t entirely clear, but it was obvious to me that once found out, the Gov would want to tie off loose ends. The League gave me a fighting chance, even if it meant dancing to their tune.


    ¡°You seem different.¡±


    I turned my distracted eyes to the side to see Belle standing in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms folded. A soft expression of intrigue on her face.


    [It might be because I cast an active spell last night.]


    Her eyebrows raised. ¡°No shit? I didn¡¯t think that was possible. What was it?¡±


    [Some manner of Dispel, I believe.]


    She nodded slowly. ¡°Damn. You really are a jack of all trades, huh?¡±


    Probably by design. I was meant to be able to assist my squad in dealing with all manner of supers. There was a likelihood that each of us had strengths against certain types. I fit the slot of group support, with my Calm Emotions and healing aura¡­


    [Oh, I might also have something like¡­ Speak Languages? Is that a spell?]


    ¡°Explain to me what happened.¡±


    [I was in the midst of battle, and I wanted to warn the lizardkin away. It came out in their language, but I¡¯m not sure how. It¡¯s not as though I understood what I was saying, either. My vocalizer was disjointed from my thoughts.]


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Belle pushed herself up into a standing position and brushed some of her pink hair behind her ear. ¡°There is tech that does that sort of thing, but it¡¯s unlikely you didn¡¯t know you had it. Plus, you¡¯d be able to do it basically on command. There are several language-based spells, but we¡¯d need to know exactly what is going on to determine which.¡±


    I gave her a nod of thanks for attaching her own interest to that revelation. I was glad to have a magic-user on the team, even if my new spell made her one of the easiest for me to kill.


    [It would be nice to find out where I draw the magical power from, and how extensive my prior spell knowledge was. At present I am assuming three active spells, but since using them is very strenuous, there¡¯s no way of knowing.]


    She agreed. ¡°Spells are only really detectable when they¡¯re active, of course. If you feel up to trying them out during training, have me close by and I¡¯ll lend a hand.¡±


    [Speaking of lending a hand¡­ could you help me bring the plates out?]


    With a smile, she agreed, and we went and had breakfast. Although the least likely to become my friend at the start, I felt that Belle was especially grounded most of the time. It hadn¡¯t taken a lot of time to earn her trust, partially helped by the rescue from the villain, but the fact that she wasn¡¯t a fan by default was respectable. Not that I had an easy ride with the speedster, but Ren and Roxy had been simple enough.


    After the others had consumed their fill of the goods I had cooked, and labored me with a copious amount of praise and thanks, Roxy took main stage.


    ¡°Alright, chuckleheads,¡± she began, standing at the head of the table with hands on hips. ¡°First off, some congratulations to Roy getting back in the saddle. We might just save the group from being shunted off of the rankings.¡± She smiled at him, and then at me.


    I had repeated the suggestion that we kill or otherwise sabotage the group that was potentially waiting to take tenth position from us, but that didn¡¯t go over well again. Nobody even knew who were the likely candidates, as groups didn¡¯t form pre-list.


    ¡°I have almost recovered,¡± she continued, ¡°which means the League will be putting me back to work soon. The group will be back at our pre-flop stage. But now, we have an ace up our sleeve for our return.¡±


    All eyes turned to me and the gathered supers gave some muted cheers and clapped.


    The spark had returned to Roxy¡¯s eyes. She was energized again. Getting into her element once more. ¡±You all know by now that Dubs is to thank for kicking my ass into gear, and bringing you all back into the fold. It goes without saying that I want him in our team. He¡¯s even gone and gotten commendations from each of you already, but I ask you now, as your leader, do you approve of his application?¡±


    Without hesitation, each of them raised their hand to show their approval. Despite knowing they all did previously, the act show of it was¡­ humbling.


    ¡°Fuck yeah.¡± Roxy grinned from ear to ear. ¡°Then you assholes better start working your asses off, because the League is going to give us a hard time. We have everything to prove. They have a total boner for Dubs, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯ll be soft gloves all the way. The big shits at the League want to see him at his limits, and that extends to us. As a team, we have to step up and be better than even our heyday.¡± She ran her tongue across her lips. ¡°I know we can get to A-Rank, and I need you all on board. Understood?¡±


    I nodded as the others also agreed. A binding agreement of a few positive gestures and murmured words of acceptance. We would hit A-Rank, it could be no other way now.


    ¡°Fan-fucking-tastic,¡± she clicked her fingers. ¡°Man, it¡¯s been too long since I¡¯ve run my mouth for a speech, huh?¡±


    ¡°One of your better ones,¡± Ren murmured, shooting the super a grin.


    ¡°Right?¡± Roxy gestured to me with her hand. ¡°So now I¡¯ll hand you over to the man himself. With his last hero test tomorrow involving all of us, I want you to give your all to make sure he passes, okay? Or I¡¯ll murder each one of you.¡±


    [She¡¯s only half kidding.]


    I stood from my chair as their attention turned to me. It would make sense for me to be good at speeches, due to my prior life and current charisma. There wasn¡¯t really much to say after Roxy had given hers, however. She¡¯d really knocked it out of the park and was now practically glowing as she sat and smiled at me.


    [I won¡¯t say much. You¡¯ve all become fast friends, and have accepted me for who I am. Tomorrow is very important to me, as is the success of the team. If you can trust me to guide you in training, then I believe we can achieve Roxy¡¯s goal of hitting A-Rank. We all have strengths beyond what the League accepts, and I wish to bring that out of each of you.]


    Nods and raised glasses were the response, each of them on board and hyped up by the back-to-back words of encouragement. I was planning on telling them that I had poisoned the food and their performance in training would determine how soon I would give them the antidote. I was glad to see that wasn¡¯t necessary.


    [With little else to say at present, get yourselves ready and we will begin. I will need to equip my gear and I will assign sparring partners.]


    Roxy had told me that even with how many years they had been a team, they had never really fought against each other. Not physically, at least. The League threw a wet blanket on that sort of thing, and it was understandable why. Roxy getting physical with anyone not as strong or durable as her would have them dead in short order. Someone like Belle wouldn¡¯t be able to do much offensively, and Ren had limited options if you caught her without her artefact present.


    I planned to change all that. Although I couldn¡¯t make them killers like me, I would push them to do things the League wasn¡¯t able to.


    The ability to survive outside the confines of this manufactured city.


    I left the table and went to the workshop, to prepare to kill all my friends.

 94 - Picked a Pack of Powers

    Training with the others was quite the experience. Part of it, I completely adored. The feeling of being in a squad once more. The camaraderie and pushing each other to be better. Aside from that, however, was how difficult it was to organize these weirdos into a functional unit.


    There wasn¡¯t one of us who could take a full strength punch from Roxy. She hadn¡¯t even had the chance to bring out the lava for fear of killing one of us accidentally. While accepting of this long established fact, she had soured a little on the training without being able to really exert herself.


    Ren had shown off the true power of her artefact for the first time. It took a little while to power up, but on the outside of our home area, she had produced a small hurricane that whipped around the loose sand and got in everyone¡¯s eyes. I had a feeling it would be something like that, but aside from this show and being a decent shot with her summonable arrows, she was the most fragile out of all of us.


    Nobody could keep up with Roy. Even without his electric fists, the only one who could weather a flurry of his punches was Roxy. After nearly splitting him in half by kicking out in frustration, he had decided to go a bit slower. Something that soured him as well.


    Belle had been working hard, no matter what was going on. Everybody needed a shield, and having to put them on Roxy while the others beat on her was tiring the supportive hero out. I could almost tangibly feel the desire to be more than a shielder radiating off of her.


    Although I had organized and set them off, I had been rather hands off for this first portion of the training. I wanted to see what they were capable of when left to their own devices without too much direction. It was easy to see how they had fallen away from each other once Roxy¡¯s leadership was dead and buried.


    Left like this, they¡¯d get disheartened once more.


    [Roxy, could I borrow you for a second?]


    The super nodded, hands on her hips as she walked away from where she had been standing. ¡°What¡¯s up, Dubs? You haven¡¯t gotten very involved yet.¡±


    I nodded toward the three remaining as they tried to come up with a way to make their powers work together.


    [What do you see?]


    ¡°A bunch of disasters,¡± she said, pulling a face as she glanced back at me.


    [Pretty close. I was hoping you would notice our new theme at some point.]


    Her brow furrowed, and she looked between the others and me a few times. ¡°Ahh, oh shit, Dubs. That¡¯s something workable. Natural Disasters.¡±


    With the new fist weapons, Roy was a rolling thunderstorm, quick as lightning. Roxy was an active volcano. Ren could bring harsh winds out from her artefact. Belle was the more awkward fit, but represented the resilience of nature. Yours truly? An earthquake, leveled by my gun-arm.


    [League probably wouldn¡¯t like that as a name, but it¡¯s guidance, don¡¯t you think?]


    ¡°Fuck yeah. I like that.¡± She nodded and narrowed her eyes at our team. ¡°Would be great if the disaster part wasn¡¯t so literal, however.¡±


    [The good news is we won¡¯t have to fight against each other in the field. This was more for the psychological effect of making them feel broken and awkward before I step in and correct them. It will help them develop unity under our guidance.]


    She blinked and shook her head. ¡°Damn, Dubs. That¡¯s one of the hottest things I¡¯ve ever heard.¡±


    [Then you¡¯re going to love the next part.]


    I stepped over to the others as she followed along.


    [Alright, great effort everyone. We¡¯ll have one last competitive scenario before we move onto something different.]


    The pep talk from earlier this morning had almost faded. I could see it in their eyes. It was as I had said - I couldn¡¯t train them to be super killers like I was. There was too great a disparity in their powers. However, I would show them exactly who I was.


    [For this next fight, it is you four against me.]


    At first, they were nothing but glances of disbelief. Then bemusement. Even Roxy was giving me the side-eye, knowing how our last bout went.


    ¡°Like as a gauntlet?¡± Roy asked, scratching at his beard. ¡°Not all at once, right?¡±


    [It is not a matter of can you defeat me, but how long it will take.]


    ¡°Could I perhaps be on your side?¡± Belle offered. ¡°I¡¯d feel a lot better about the others attacking you if I could protect you.¡±


    I considered that for a second. It might neuter the point I was trying to make slightly. Although she needed different lessons that the offensive supers, for this show I wanted it to be a group effort. So, I shook my head.


    [Appreciated, but this isn¡¯t about my survival. Roxy and I have already done this sort of thing, so she knows what my limits are.]


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± she disagreed, as she stepped away from my side to join the others. ¡°You¡¯ve not only improved since then, but this is all some setup for you to get off on fighting supers.¡±


    Guilty. Although not entirely the reason for this little game, part of me deep inside hungered for it. I didn¡¯t have all the anti-hero tech that I had envisioned, but in truth, I didn¡¯t want to beat them just yet. This was a bonding session, after all. The idea was to give them as hard a win as I could, and follow that elation up with some joint training where we worked together instead of against one another.


    [If you feel your power is beyond your control, you can sit this one out, dear.]


    ¡°Fuck you,¡± Roxy said, pulling a face. ¡°You¡­ fucker.¡±


    Ren had her arms folded, bow floating in the air beside her. ¡°What are the ground rules here, because I don¡¯t want to accidentally kill you?¡±


    [Don¡¯t accidentally kill me. That¡¯s probably the most important rule. Nothing that can damage the house. Lay on the floor if you want to tap out. I will be using Nerve shot, but I can¡¯t promise you won¡¯t take other minor injuries if you agree to participate.]


    It warmed my heart to see them all look over to Roxy for guidance. She scowled at me after spotting the indecision on their faces.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°We can probably get him pretty quick, but be careful because he is a wily motherfucker.¡±


    ¡°And reckless in the pursuit of victory,¡± Belle added, her own scowl leveled my way.


    So we went out further away from our property, into the sands. They found a decent spot without cover, and arranged themselves around fifty feet away from me. I preferred cover when I could get it. This was neutral ground, however. I was ranged, as was Ren. Roy and Roxy could get to me in no time at all, and Belle would want nothing to do with being in the firing line.


    I gave my equipment a last once over, hoping the League would provide me with some new things. Some kind of personal shielding, for one. Maybe some grenades. I thumbed through my magazines and filled up my selectloader, before clicking the drum full of Nerve shot into place.


    For those that didn¡¯t know, Roxy explained what that would do. The supportive super was slightly more relaxed in knowing I wouldn¡¯t really be risking blowing their limbs off or eyes out. That wasn¡¯t the only ammunition I had loaded, however. They''d get what they deserved.


    //Dubs: Hey Clara. If you¡¯re not too busy, can you run a five second countdown in the new team chat?


    //Clara: Might I ask what for first, Gunquake?


    //Dubs: I¡¯m about to fight all four of them.


    //Clara: ¡­


    //Clara: The number of grenades I¡¯ll get you will be determined by your performance set against the injuries you take.


    //Dubs: Now you¡¯re speaking my language.


    I rolled my shoulders out and loaded the first shell into my gun-arm by hand. Any tiredness from the last evening had been scoured away, leaving only my desire to win. My first fight against a group of supers all at once. I was electric and felt at the top of my game.


    As Clara signaled the countdown through our STARs, my muscles tensed up for the inevitably very short fight.


    The countdown struck five, and just as expected, Roy zipped toward me. Even if they had arranged some manner of tactics beforehand, I knew that his ego couldn¡¯t prevent him from wanting to stop me near instantly. I fired the Quake shot straight into the ground and activated Reflex.


    He had circled around me, possibly to strike or grapple me from the back. With my powers pushed to the limit, I also fired Quickness through my synapses, finally deciding on a name for it. I spun in place and whipped my gun arm around in a wide arc. He had the reaction speed to raise his arms up to protect himself, but the Quake shot had all but frozen him in place. Belle¡¯s shielding flared over him as I knocked him back, continuing my arc to face the group of heroes again.


    Roxy had leaped through the air, intending to land a distance outside of my aura of V-Force pulses. Ren had an arrow leveled ready to give her cover, so that I didn¡¯t immediately blast the strength super. More fool her, as I wouldn¡¯t allow the threat of death to miss a decent opportunity.


    As Roxy landed, I shot her left leg with Nerve. Ren¡¯s arrow slammed through my right leg in response, piercing through to the back of my thigh. It reduced my mobility by far too much for my liking. Quake shot only had two more seconds left on the clock, so I turned to the speedster and put a Nerve into the shielding. It flickered and remained. Shame, as that blast would have made his arms useless.


    ¡°Dubs,¡± Roxy growled, flexing into a familiar position. Just as expected.


    Triple shot loaded three shells in my selectloader. As I raised my gun-arm up to point at her, lava burst from her arms, causing a wave of heat to wash over me.


    Before I could mentally press the trigger, Belle switched her shield over to the strength super. My body wracked through with pain as a ringing sound screamed through my ears, threatening to burst them. Snip. Dispel cut the shield away from Roxy, and I unloaded three shots of expanding Water shot into her.


    Not enough to douse her raging spirit, but the amount of steam produced by the fizzling water was almost as good as temporary Smoke shot. Speaking of which, Roy was now recovering. I could even hear the crackling of his fists powering up.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Just as the last pulse of Quake shook the sands, I dove off to the side, avoiding a second arrow from the ranged hero. Before I righted myself, Smoke shot billowed around me, obscuring further shots. As that shell bounced onto the ground, I loaded a new one in. Left hand topped the selectloader up in this brief reprieve.


    Roy started running around me, intending to keep me in place. Either Roxy would break into the cloud and try her luck in finding me, or Ren would hit me with an air attack to disperse the rest of the smoke.


    I didn¡¯t have much chance to hit Roy when he was moving so fast, even being able to see the blur of his outline circling around. Maybe I didn¡¯t need to hit him exactly.


    Left arm came up, and I fired off the grapple hook out through the fog. Roy ran straight into the extending line, causing it to wrap around him before he could slide to a stop. I turned in place to prevent the line from doing anything weird to me, but by the time he had come to a standstill, the expanding foam has burst and covered him, pinning his arms to his torso.


    Gun-arm came up as the line tried to draw him toward me, and I pegged him in the head with a Nerve shot. Too out of sight to be shielded and unable to see my intention to fire on him to dodge. As he slumped over to the floor, I hit the clasps to remove my gauntlet, just as a strong burst of wind almost flattened me to the floor. Armwear fell to the ground as I turned to face Roxy running toward me, arms still burning with molten rock. A slight sheen of renewed shield ran over her.


    Part of me wanted to stand in place and see if she really would hit me full force with her lava up. But I knew she would, and that I would die. We both had to play the game in earnest, and I had to take her as seriously as she took me.


    Her arm raised back, and I dove to the side, avoiding her swing. She followed up with a stomp that almost caught me, her boot instead cracking the dry ground. With my chamber clacking back and forth, I hit her left leg with another Nerve shot as I righted up into a crouching position. Roxy stumbled back, her adrenaline taking the hallucinogenic drugs straight to her brain, causing her to think her leg was now inert.


    ¡°Motherfucker,¡± she growled, fists dripping molten rock onto the ground. With her eyes now burning with fury, her faux-injured leg burst out of her outfit and glowed brightly with lava. ¡°Shit, shit, shit.¡± Her brow furrowed, and she paused, trying to calm her power down.


    I took that opportunity to load in a metal ball. Overcharge hummed into life again, and I twisted to face the two women still downrange. An arrow whizzed past my gun-arm as I turned, the elf only just missing me. Most likely, she didn¡¯t want to hit me in the head while I was a smaller target in a crouched position.


    With a sharp thunk, I ejected the sphere of solid steel. Belle held her book in the air and a dome of shimmering light bloomed into existence around the both of them. My metal ball struck the edge of it and ricocheted into the air at an odd angle, leaving a ripple in the magical barrier. It would have missed both of them, anyway. I was playing to win, but I wasn¡¯t trying to kill them¡ªI just wanted to see the skill in action.


    As my chamber opened up, I loaded in another Nerve to disable Roxy further. It would be hard to cover the distance between my current position and Ren after, so-


    I spun up into a standing position just slightly too late, a sudden wash of heated air rushing over me before something hard struck me in the head. The air knocked from my body as I landed flat on the floor, and my re-breather buzzed as I tried to fill my lungs again.


    ¡°You staying down, asshole?¡± Roxy loomed over me, still scowling. She had switched her lava powers off, gaining control of her leg to burst toward me while I was trying to pin the ranged supers down. Very good.


    [Yes, I relent.]


    ¡°Thank fuck.¡± She sighed and brushed the dried rock off of her hands. ¡°I didn¡¯t fracture your skull, did I? I¡¯m pretty hard-headed.¡±


    I had a quick look through my status notifications in my lens. She must have been holding back quite a bit, as other than some imminent bruising, she hadn¡¯t cracked me like an egg.


    [That would have been anticlimactic, wouldn¡¯t it? I am fine.]


    Excluding the arrow through the leg, the headbutt was the worst they had done to me. I took her offered hand, and she helped me to my feet.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t realize that losing mental control of my limb would cause it to turn into lava,¡± she said, looking down at her bare leg. ¡°Another outfit fucked.¡±


    [I apologize.]


    ¡°Eh.¡± Roxy gestured to the prone speedster. ¡°If anyone deserves your apologies, it should be Roy. You might have bruised his ego there.¡± She paused and looked back at the other two heroes who were making their way over. ¡°Fucking¡­ good show, though. Like in more favorable terrain and shit, you might have gotten us all.¡±


    [My dear sweet Roxy. I will not rest until I can beat you all handily, and I have a feeling that day isn¡¯t so far away.]


    She bit her lip and exhaled through her nose. ¡°You always know just what to say to me. You flirt.¡±


    I nodded in lieu of a smile, and we both turned to accept the other two into our ongoing conversation.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Dubs,¡± Ren started, pulling a face. ¡°I was trying to be as non-lethal as possible.¡±


    [We will need to discuss your actual powers in detail soon. Forgiven. You all did very well given the circumstances.]


    Belle didn¡¯t look so convinced. ¡°That¡¯s the first time somebody has countered one of my shields. It felt terrible. Not just in a magical sense, but knowing my efforts in protecting the team could be taken away and they could be vulnerable again¡­¡±


    [The point of this exercise was twofold. First, you need to understand that the criminals and basic villains the League puts you against are very simple threats. There is much worse out there and you need to be prepared to deal with problems like me. Second, overwhelming power isn¡¯t always the best way to deal with a problem. Roxy knows this well, but in that fight I was actually most impressed with Roy.]


    The speedster groaned, but hadn¡¯t moved. ¡°Glad I was conscious for the fuckin¡¯ compliment, at least.¡±


    [When Roy couldn¡¯t best me with his immediate speed or melee, he switched to keeping me in place so the others could pick me off. Belle isn¡¯t the only one who has to be a team player.]


    It made some sense. He had served in the military. Had his own squad and those close to him he helped and received help from. Roxy was used to using pure strength to solve issues, and Ren was either out of the picture doing reconnaissance or firing arrows from range. Clara would soon take up the scouting position, so I needed the elf to step up.


    Roy rolled himself up into a seating position and pulled himself out of the wound grapple wire. I had set the foam to melt as I took the gauntlet off, and it seemed to have a safety mechanism that would stop the automatic winding-in when it wasn¡¯t on my arm. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you had this,¡± he complained.


    ¡°Our enemies will often have powers or strengths we don¡¯t know about,¡± Roxy took over, shooting me a brief look. A very attractive look. ¡°While we can¡¯t prepare for every eventuality, what we can do is become a stronger team so that together we can answer any threat leveled at us.¡±


    She liked to play off that she was a simple meathead, but she had clearly been listening and taking notes any time I talked about the team. It was easy to see how she had been picked to be the leader¡ªnot only was she a force to be reckoned with in a fight, but now that her confidence had been restored, she had a commanding presence that I entirely respected.


    ¡°As long as the threat isn¡¯t Dubs, we should be fine.¡± The speedster rubbed at his head. ¡°Did he win?¡±


    [Not even close. You all had to hold back to ensure that I didn¡¯t die.]


    Belle rolled her eyes. ¡°Bullshit. You were as well. If we were your actual enemies, at least two of us would have been dead.¡±


    [The point is someone like me should be zero issue for a group like you four. That I even had a chance signals the improvements you must make.]


    Roy pushed himself up to his feet and brushed his outfit down. ¡°It¡¯s an arms race then. We have to deal with you without breaking a sweat, but you¡¯re trying to be above people like us.¡±


    ¡°Looks like Dubs knocked some smarts into you, then,¡± Roxy interjected. ¡°This isn¡¯t about competition, but for pushing the team to be our absolute best. We¡¯ll know more soon, but it¡¯s likely we won¡¯t just be dealing with the usual shits the League assigns us to. Take Dubs¡¯ advice as gospel, because we need to be better to survive.¡±


    With her arms still crossed, Ren tilted her head. ¡°That sounds rather dire. You two know something we don¡¯t?¡±


    We were outside our zone of protection, and my glance at the super had Roxy briefly nodding to show she understood.


    [Let¡¯s have a break for refreshments. I need to make sure my brains aren¡¯t leaking out.]


    And so we returned to the house and Roxy and I made a light lunch. After a bit of food and drink, the drab mood of the group from earlier had evaporated. They weren¡¯t as fired up as the morning, but had settled into a positive contentedness. Tempered like a blade.


    I explained to them what the Director had told me, to some degree. That there might be outside forces seeking to weaken Goldarch. I left out that it was the World Government for now. While they were keen to become the squad I had envisioned, expecting them to go against the organization that had an eye over most of the world was probably a big step.


    The reaction to the possibility of us becoming a state-sponsored ¡®vigilante¡¯ group was rather warm, if cautious. They were more intrigued by the rebranding at first, eagerly discussing outfit changes and the like. After Roxy reminded them that meant we¡¯d be more of a kill squad for the League, their excitement simmered down to a more reasonable level.


    Of course, the League hadn¡¯t told me that directly, but it was written between the lines. Whether Boss had been working with them or not, it seemed my destiny had been partially planned out. I was a weapon used against Goldarch now turned into a shield to protect it. Even if this was envisioned without my say, I had to admit I didn¡¯t hate it. Aside from my forced cybernetics, I had a decent life now. A second chance.


    As my speech died off, the others started up conversations related more to how they could fight well together. How we could deal with certain threats. They were primed and ready for the next step of my training, and I was content.


    Roxy put her hand on my leg, her eyes twinkling as she gestured at the others with a glance before returning her gaze to me. ¡°You know, if you pass tomorrow, then the League will give you citizenship?¡±


    [Oh? I hadn¡¯t considered that.]


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ve been a nameless unknown for so long.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter to me, but you can probably choose whatever name you want for yourself.¡±


    It would put me on the World Government¡¯s system for sure, but it was a calculated risk. I didn¡¯t exactly look like the old me, or have the old name. Citizenship meant being real in the eyes of Goldarch. While I had used anonymity to skirt the law before, having an actual existence did have some benefits.


    [I will have to give it some thought.]


    Rest time was over. Now we trained for real. As a squad. Before we could even begin, Belle approached me.


    ¡°Can you dispel something while I try to detect it?¡±


    [Be my guest.]


    With Roxy as the willing test subject, the defensive hero stood behind me, one hand on my back, as she cast a shield on the super. I raised my gun-arm and concentrated, my mind working through the details of magic in the area so that I could find the right wire to cut. A quick snip, and the barrier vanished, leaving me with a pulsing pain in my temples. As Belle stood back away, I rubbed at my head with my left hand.


    ¡°Magic often requires a focus,¡± she explained, as she stepped back around to my front. ¡°Something tangible to channel through. It¡¯s not always the case, but for you, it is. Essentially your shotgun is acting as a conduit for your spell power, although it feels¡­ forced.¡±


    [A makeshift focus, not what I¡¯d naturally need.]


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± Belle crossed her arms and chewed on her thoughts. ¡°Clara has seen inside of you, right? There were no runes or symbols on your bones, or superfluous organs?¡±


    [Nothing she saw fit to mention. She has dug around most of my torso. I do have¡­ cables that run from my brain down through my neck, although I¡¯m not sure where they end up going.]


    ¡°Okay. Your magic probably comes from them. Maybe some manner of nanite tech. I can feel the latent energy grow when you¡¯re casting¡ªbut like I said, it¡¯s forced. It¡¯s supposed to come naturally, but it seems to cause you a lot of pain.¡±


    Roxy, who had been listening from the side, clucked her tongue. ¡°So your bardic instrument is your gun-arm.¡±


    Belle nodded, a bemused expression on her face. ¡°Implanted magic is often limited in some way. You may be correct that you only have three spells in your songbook. It could be that you have more, but can only use them a couple of times per day. Without knowing how you¡¯re built, it¡¯s hard to say.¡±


    I grunted, unsure as to how to take this all in. There wasn¡¯t any burst of realization I had from her diagnosis. Nothing from my past jumping out of the shadows now that they had been half revealed by the discussion. I couldn¡¯t remember whether the magic started up at the same time as my synapse abilities had¡ªafter Clara had reattached my neck cables.


    If I was a constructed super-solider, then it was unlikely I had any natural or divine magical capacity. My creator had some way of implanting the spells, just as Belle assumed. Whether that was something to do with my nanites, who could really say? It could be just as likely that the old canisters or stims Boss had been giving me had suppressed my magic.


    [Thanks, Belle. Food for thought.]


    ¡°My pleasure. I¡¯m invested in that side of your growth.¡± She looked over to where Roy and Ren were trying to devise a combo attack. ¡°I won¡¯t push you on the language thing today, as your brain might explode. Let¡¯s get back into the action.¡±


    She smiled as she walked off, and Roxy came to stand beside me instead.


    ¡°Look at our little group of weirdos,¡± she said. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t all your doing, but I¡¯ll say it is so that you can correct me and praise me for my parts.¡±


    [I take all the credit.]


    ¡°Ass.¡± Her smile widened. ¡°C¡¯mon, we¡¯ve only got so many hours before your trial.¡±


    As she wandered off, I stood alone for a moment and observed them. They seemed happy. Determined to get back on the ladder and climb. To be better.


    There was a time in my old life where these people would have been enemies. Potential victims of my squad intending on weakening Goldarch¡¯s control of the area, so that the World Government could usurp the League. While part of my brain still saw them as obstacles to overcome, the more pragmatic side of me saw them as tools. Extensions of myself, in a way. Strengths and powers to utilize to further my own goals.


    Stronger than that, however, was something closer to a heartache. Allies. Friends. Something so close to normality that I wished I could just wake up with a normal arm and face and be done with this. Live having some peace. It was something I had to earn; I was sure.


    My shotgun chamber clacked back and forth, loading in a new shell.


    I was ready for tomorrow. But was the League?

 95 - Weather Warning

    The slow ticking of the clock held my full attention. My trial was looming closer by the second, but there were so many of them in the way.


    With the team in better spirits, the joint training went by like a breeze. After painting myself as the common foe, they had rallied behind Roxy¡¯s leadership and we presented a few options for actually working together, rather than just working alongside each other. Despite their desire to hang around long into the evening, we agreed that some rest would be more important.


    Clara had returned by dusk, with a new drone in tow. We gave it a test run to get used to the differences, although for me they weren¡¯t readily overt. It was a better model. Sleeker, quieter, and more maneuverable. While we had discussed versions that could carry supplies or even packed small firearms before, she was keen to have something to perform the scouting role better¡ªassuring me that there was a good reason for that decision.


    Now the morning after, the techie was sitting beside me on the couch, her hand holding onto my gun-arm nervously as we waited.


    As much as we had allowed the focus to be on my hero test, and partially now also a gauge on the team composition, the day was also about her. If I became a hero officially, she would become my sidekick officially. Part of me wondered if she had been busying herself constantly as of late to try to avoid this very real promotion she was about to receive. Any of my attempts to pry into her feelings over the job change had been brushed away, so I let it lie for now.


    Roxy had been pacing through the kitchen and lobby for the better part of an hour. As much as she didn¡¯t like to be late, not knowing the time to leave was similarly eating her up. The rest of the team had signaled that they were ready in the group chat, but all we could do now was await the briefing from the League.


    Keeping us on edge was probably part of the whole circus act.


    The super stopped walking a groove through the floor to stop at the living room doorway, drawing our attention.


    ¡°League are apologizing for the delay. There¡¯s been some kind of break out at one of the prisons, so they¡¯re short staffed.¡± She pulled a face, looking exhausted despite our rest.


    [Anything we should be worried about?]


    Roxy shook her head. ¡°No, they probably already have heroes on it. Usually they give a list of escaped villains or important criminals, but they¡¯ve been rather quiet.¡±


    [Perhaps keeping us focused on our task for today.]


    With a shrug, she went back to the kitchen.


    I had long suspected that some of the prison breaks were staged, or at least allowed. The League controlled supers to babysit the demi-gods so that they didn¡¯t ruin the world. Villains were the other side of the same coin, and while I was sure the organization didn¡¯t personally tell the bad guys what to do, they no doubt turned a blind eye on occasion to drum up work for the law abiding supers.


    The feud with the World Government added some context to why a villain might choose to stick around Goldarch and adhere vaguely to the theatrics the city abided by. The Gov had an even dimmer view of criminals with powers, and would probably erase any villain trying to get their hands dirty in a city without the League¡¯s protection.


    That¡­ was my old job.


    I felt it clearly now, as if sitting in silence for so long was a manner of purgatory where my sins could take better form. My squad of ten technologically enhanced super soldiers was a scalpel in the World Government¡¯s hands. To cut away anyone they deemed a threat. Villain and Hero were just labels the League used here, but out in other cities, that kind of thing didn¡¯t matter.


    They were just trouble.


    After a few moments of allowing this echo to bounce around my empty skull, I turned my eyes to the techie. Clara had an equally stoic stare that matched mine, looking out of the window at the workshop. Encrypted drive was at ninety-something percent. Part of me hoped it would be all the answers. Who Boss was. Why he had brought me back to this life. The nature of the betrayal that set the group into ruin. More likely, it would just be a digital map for another trauma treasure hunt.


    Still, the shadows were fading by the day.


    [Imagine after all this tension the trial will be some form of community service.]


    Clara blinked a couple of times before turning a mild scowl my way. ¡°As nice as it would be to not have to stitch you back together later, I will be mildly annoyed if you aren¡¯t committing some grand act of violence, Gunquake.¡±


    [I intend to use some of those grenades either way.]


    Her expression relaxed into a slight smile. ¡°Well, you did rather well yesterday. Next time, I hope to join you.¡±


    [They wouldn¡¯t stand a chance then.]


    She drummed her fingers on my shotgun before moving her hand away¡ªsome of her nerves clearly abated. ¡°I was going to save this for a post-win surprise, Gunquake, but I can¡¯t help myself. The League has fast tracked the license application. We¡¯ll be able to get a cartridge fabricator in the very near future.¡±


    [That is pretty exciting.]


    Despite my sentence sounding rather flat, I was excited. If it wasn¡¯t for my recent meeting with the Director, I would be suspicious that the League would allow me that power. Making my own ammunition was dangerous¡ªtenfold because of the imagination of the techie. But they wanted me to have this option. Without realizing it, I had always been on their leash. It was just a slack and very long one. If I continued to get the results they wanted, I could do as I pleased, almost.


    There was irony there, somewhere. Something about being a tool gave me the most freedom. Any focused point my brain tried to land on fell away from my thoughts as Roxy stomped back over to us. More purpose in her steps this time.


    ¡°It¡¯s go time,¡± she said loudly, striding into the doorway once more. ¡°You¡¯ll each get the short-form briefing in a minute, but I¡¯ll forward you the full shit, Dubs.¡±


    I nodded. Her expression was stoic and focused, actually in her element. As much as I wanted to sit and bask in her growth back into a position of leadership, her message with the information pinged up in my lens. I opened it and started to read through, just picking up the key phrases as I tried to take it in as soon as possible.


    ¡°We¡¯re out of the door in ten,¡± she commanded, before leaving the room.


    High threat. Deep in the wastes - almost twice as deep as I¡¯d ever gone before. Satelite imagery showed a large compound shaped like a blocky pyramid. Underground areas likely. A city of various wasteland-dwelling groups that hadn¡¯t gone against Goldarch before, but something had changed. They¡¯d unearthed something. This unknown entity was powerful and not only took over the city quickly, but has shown the desire to expand their empire.


    ¡°That¡¯s alarming,¡± Clara said, before exhaling through her nose.


    [You think so?]


    She gave a tired shrug and deflated into the couch. ¡°Othea is steeped in both old magic and powerful entities long dead and buried. There¡¯s always someone foolish and unlucky wanting to dig deeper and find some lost power.¡± Her eyes closed for a moment. ¡°It almost always ends badly, Gunquake.¡±


    [Only ¡®almost¡¯?]


    The techie stretched her legs out, rotating her ankles to limber up. ¡°Sometimes an artefact will be found. Or just old history stuff. There are a few monsters wandering the world who were dug up and repopulated. There¡¯s a good reason the World Government is strict about who and where people can cut into the ground.¡±


    [I wasn¡¯t aware. My history knowledge is rather lacking, even with most of my memories sinking back in.]


    ¡°It¡¯s not really the time for it, Gunquake,¡± she said as she stood up. ¡°But three hundred or so years ago, the world was all sword and sorcery. Dragons and knights. Then there was an event known as the Zero day. Reports are conflicted with the actual method, but technology bloomed into being. The modern world you now know has only existed for a handful of generations.¡±


    I stood to join her and adjusted my tactical vest.


    [That seems like such a short time, for how little overtly remains of the old ways.]


    Clara gave me a grim smile as we moved out of the room. ¡°The Weather Wars, alongside several other conflicts, messed the world up to some degree. Magic and technology didn¡¯t always work well together, Gunquake. The last few decades have actually been the most peaceful on record since the Zero day.¡±


    [Is this in part due to most of the old power being buried away, and the World Government regulating things?]


    ¡°Partially. Something beyond my pay grade to speculate, I¡¯m afraid. As the amount of available power in Othea weakened, I think people just switched to seeking money over everything else.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    [Interesting. Thank you, Clara. That was a great way to distract us from the panic of our toughest mission yet.]


    ¡°Are you two yapping or getting ready?¡± Roxy¡¯s voice came from upstairs.


    ¡°Best get moving, Gunquake.¡± Clara sighed. ¡°You¡¯re lucky. Another five miles and I wouldn¡¯t have the drone range to work from home.¡±


    [Will you be alright here alone?]


    ¡°I always prefer having you close, Gunquake.¡± Her eyes went over to where the super¡¯s voice had come from. ¡°But the tech here is the second best thing. I¡¯ll be switching it to emergency lockdown, so the only thing that could harm me would be something that would easily paste you and Rockslide anyway.¡±


    [I¡¯m not sure if that is comforting or not, but good. This is a big day for us both, but I believe in us. We¡¯ll kick ass.]


    She grinned and stepped closer to give me a hug. ¡°Take care of my sister, okay? I¡¯d never forgive you if anything happened to her, Gunquake. Do not forget I have your kill-switch now.¡±


    [Alright, enough flirting. Let¡¯s get me fitted up before Roxy comes and twists my head off.]


    It wasn¡¯t really a kill-switch as such, but I probably wouldn¡¯t survive her pressing the emergency open button for my metal rib cage. As much as it would be amusing for my chest to spontaneously burst open, I much preferred jokes I could live through.


    So we went to the workshop while Roxy arranged a meeting place for the rest of the team to assemble. Mags loaded, drums full to the top, and replacement stims, canisters, and grapple foam ready. We packed a lot of extras into crates to take in the wagon. My left hand held a grenade in hand. Oh, sweet explosive throwable.


    Enough Smoke, Flash, and Fragmentation to last the mission, even if I went a little over the top. I wasn¡¯t sure how she even swung getting some real explosives, but knew well enough not to ask. There seemed to be something on her mind in regards to the mission, but she assured me it was nothing relevant or important. I¡¯d pick her mind later.


    Roxy joined us as I finished loading the vehicle. Her face was full of nerves, but she was grinning through it. I wasn¡¯t even sure what our worries were over. Between the two of us¡ªthree, including Clara¡ªit was hard to imagine anything being a threat. Now we¡¯d also have the rest of the team. The trio had accepted they were essentially our support group. Belle, of course, knew her role, but Roy was able to put his ego aside to understand that even with his gloves, there were things he wouldn¡¯t be able to stand up against.


    While her lava powers seemed to soften some of her durability, in sparring with Roxy yesterday we had found that in tempering her skin, her default damage reduction had improved by some degree. Although she had tried to paint it as now having a defensive and aggressive stance, her base strength was still incredible without the lava.


    I shut the door of the wagon as she sat in beside me.


    ¡°Any last screaming into the void of our protected area before we head out?¡± she asked, biting at her lip in a grimace.


    [Once I am official, I want to go public with our relationship.]


    ¡°Yeah?¡± She leaned forward, hand on the side of my face as she kissed my re-breather. ¡°I have zero reservations about that. You and me against the world, Dubs.¡±


    [We¡¯ll save that extinction event for another day. Talk mission to me while I drive to the rendezvous point.]


    I hadn¡¯t really considered it before, but she would have done this kind of thing for the group before they fell apart. It was clear that she was fitting back into that old role, as she seemed comfortable detailing out information from the brief. She played up the braindead side of her, and even if not tactically minded, she did actually have a head for being an organizer.


    In fact, some of our training had revolved around that. As both our hardiest and hardest hitting squad member, she was the lynchpin of our fighting force. Many of our new strategies revolved around where she was and what was happening to her in the fight. Nobody seemed to mind the roles shaking out that way¡ªeven me. It was nice not feeling like the spotlight was on me for a change. After all, I had gone from being a support in my old squad to living in the shadows as a solo hitman.


    And that¡¯s how we planned to fight. I was her personal support. Her shadow. While she tore through everything, I¡¯d be there with a curated selection of problem solvers across my belt. I was there to patch up her weakness, yet also standalone. We all needed to become uncontestable in our own right, aside from being a comprehensive unit. Some of us needed more work on that, but that was a matter of lack of time rather than desire.


    Roxy ran through the facts of the brief from the top. It sounded like it would be a slaughter. Population of the wastes city¡ªknown as Blightwatch¡ªhad been corrupted or brainwashed by whatever they had dug up. From the basic information, it was speculated to be a powerful ancient ancestry. Possibly magic users, but the League didn¡¯t really know.


    And that was the crux of it, the super had decided. This was a big problem, outside the boundary and normal concern of Goldarch. We were cutting the bud and salting the earth before the poisonous vines could grow and reach out toward our city. This was a test for if we could be that scalpel they needed. Extrajudicial killers.


    I already knew Roxy and I could be that.


    We pulled up to an area out further west of our home, Ren¡¯s black off-road vehicle already there, with Roy standing beside it, talking to Belle through the window.


    Roxy was already out of the side of the wagon before I¡¯d even stopped fully.


    ¡°Morning gang,¡± she said, striding over to them as I rolled down my window. ¡°Any questions about the briefing?¡±


    Belle pulled a face and stuck her face further out of the window. ¡°His blessing on you both. If we get rid of the brainwashing thing, are the populace going to return to normal and we¡¯ll be struck with guilt over those we kill?¡±


    The super put her hands on her hips. ¡°Irrelevant. Get used to the color of gray.¡±


    Belle nodded briefly. ¡°Noted.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± Ren¡¯s voice came from the driver¡¯s side.


    The Captain rubbed his head. ¡°Are we being recorded for this? Any media generation to be aware of?¡±


    Roxy glanced back at me before shaking her head. ¡°This is purely for trial purposes. It won¡¯t count for your monthly targets or PR campaigns either.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure whether to be surprised by the slight grumbling of the trio, or just impressed with Roxy¡¯s professional attitude. Of course, she had spent most of the night struggling to get to sleep because of how important this was to me, and thus her, by proxy. I hadn¡¯t expected top form, and I felt woefully in love.


    ¡°Last thing, then,¡± Roy continued. ¡°Can I ride in the quake-wagon?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not, for calling it that.¡± Roxy waved him off. ¡°We set off in two minutes.¡±


    //Clara: Gunquake. Audio is now active.


    //Dubs: Confirmed. We are about to set off from the rendezvous point.


    //Clara: Affirmative. I will check in once you are closer to the mission area.


    I closed down the chat as Roxy got back in the passenger seat.


    ¡°I adore Roy, but I need this head space to be just the two of us now. It helps me focus when I''m stressed.¡± She gave me an apologetic grin.


    [No problem, I feel the same way. Although, we have Clara¡¯s ears on us as well now.]


    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± she nodded before narrowing her eyes out at the horizon. ¡°You know that I trust her like she¡¯s an extension of the both of us.¡±


    [How do the others seem?]


    Roxy paused before answering, my vehicle thrumming into life as I shuffled to get more comfortable on the seat. It would be a long drive.


    ¡°Ren and Belle are nervous, as neither of them has technically killed anyone before.¡± She leaned back in the seat, but kept her eyes on the way ahead. ¡°Like even at that clone place, Ren was just running recon. Belle only supports, whatever we¡¯ve done.¡±


    [I would have thought Ren would have had some accidents, with her using a bow.]


    ¡°She¡¯s very particular about her shots. I¡¯m pretty sure you know that, Dubs, considering you allowed her to attack you.¡±


    She was partially correct. You couldn¡¯t be a superhero with a bow and be a terrible shot with it, so the elf must have passed some level of competency to join with the League. In the training she had little issue hitting targets, so it had been a lucky guess on my part that she¡¯d be able to avoid impaling my head. It just went to show there was still plenty I needed to do to be unkillable.


    [It¡¯s sweet that you assume I know what I¡¯m doing half the time.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that, asshole.¡± The super smiled. ¡°The fact that the League is letting me out on this day trip says a lot, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    [It makes me wonder why they haven¡¯t thought of doing something like this before.]


    ¡°A group of mercenary heroes? Hmm.¡± Her brow furrowed in thought.


    I personally would have assumed some of the villains could be convinced to fight on the side of Goldarch outside of city limits, for their freedom or something. Maybe it was my unique position as being ex-Government that made me slightly more untouchable in a public sense. Wrong person in the right place. Or the right person in the wrong place¡ªit was hard to tell some days.


    ¡°I told the League we wanted to go for Natural Disasters for our group name.¡± She changed the subject, perhaps trying to push the looming violence from her mind. ¡°I figure we¡¯ll give them the toughest pill to swallow and then negotiate down to something more palatable.¡±


    [You¡¯re really confident we will pass this, then.]


    ¡°Dubs. Just don¡¯t die, okay? No heroic bullshit. We¡¯ll be hours away from Clara being able to put you back together.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°The actual mission is whatever. If they don¡¯t want to put you in the team, then fuck ¡®em, we¡¯ll build our own.¡±


    //Clara: Med crate has enough to put you in a coma until you get home.


    //Clara: But I can¡¯t work miracles, Gunquake.


    [We will succeed. No permanent injuries, I promise. How do you feel about having to kill through a city?]


    While she still continued to scowl over the first part of my statement, Roxy tilted her head from side to side. ¡°City is a stretch. We¡¯re not talking thousands of occupants here.¡±


    [Hundreds, though?]


    She nodded.


    [What if the excavated danger is some manner of disease or parasite we¡¯ll catch upon arrival?]


    ¡°League are certain it¡¯s not. I know it¡¯s a lot to ask you to trust them blindly. Believe me, I¡¯ve wondered if this has all been a setup to kill us off or get blackmail footage to threaten our careers.¡± The super held up her hand, inspecting her nails idly. ¡°We both know I¡¯m a dumbshit on occasion, but there was a time I was half decent at this. Back when I cared.¡±


    [And you care again?]


    ¡°Yeah. Of course. You¡¯ve seen how things have been lately.¡± She gave me a glance and a smile. ¡°You¡¯ll have to trust that I have a firm grip on the situation.¡±


    [Then I¡¯m lucky to have someone so experienced showing me the ropes.]


    Roxy beamed as she leaned closer to me. ¡°Not the first time you¡¯ve said that.¡±


    //Clara: Don¡¯t make me detonate the quake-wagon.


    [Clara requests that we tone it down a little.]


    I knew better than to question if the techie had really rigged up my vehicle with the capacity to explode. In fact, I would almost be disappointed if she hadn¡¯t. It might be useful if my wagon was ever stolen, or I turned rogue.


    ¡°What about you then, Dubs? Thoughts on killing off this city for the League?¡±


    [I¡¯m a good soldier. I do as I¡¯m told.]


    ¡°Fuck you.¡± The super shook her head. ¡°All the progress you¡¯ve made in making a new life for yourself and you¡¯re going to lick the League¡¯s boots just like that?¡±


    I shot her a glance as the wagon rumbled over some rougher parts of the terrain.


    [No, I meant I was going to do whatever you told me to do.]


    She narrowed her eyes, but was unable to put on any ire, and a smile broke through. ¡°I know we met under odd circumstances, but I¡¯m really glad we did, you know?¡±


    [Then I assume you¡¯ve already decided on our next date night?]


    ¡°Of course. You¡¯re going to tolerate it so hard.¡± She stuck her tongue out. ¡°It¡¯s competitive.¡±


    [Now I¡¯ll have to survive today.]


    Roxy gave me a wink, and we sunk into a comfortable silence. I checked the map to make sure we were on the correct route. The League had helpfully provided us a line that slalomed back and forth to avoid any known mutant tribes, monster lairs, and deformations in the terrain. It added another thirty minutes to an already long travel time, but we¡¯d get there safely.


    We had all come a long way since that group mission against the clone factory. We had further to go still, our collective foot barely just in the door. This was the first proper test of our mettle.


    Next stop, Blightwatch was about to learn how well it held up against Natural Disasters.

 96 - No Knock Warrant

    I allowed the quake-wagon to roll to a stop, Ren¡¯s off-roader sliding across the dry gravel beside me. The last dune, once driven over, had then revealed the destination to us. It was now late afternoon, nearly dusk. The city of Blightwatch stood before us in the distance, and it was¡­ more impressive than I had expected. The picture truly didn¡¯t do it justice.


    The pyramid shape was roughly clear, although it was a lot more jumbled from this angle. It almost looked like stacks of large shipping containers, arranged as best as someone was able - if they had little care for the appearance of the end product. Eight stories tall at the peak, each floor of the giant construct was approximately twenty feet tall. Dark stone, dotted with lights.


    ¡°A city within a single building, a bit like a castle,¡± Roxy thought out loud.


    [How much would stealth cloaking technology for our vehicles cost?]


    I was all for going up against the odds, but I was usually most effective when turning up unexpectedly and flashing through with quick bursts of sudden violence. Signaling my approach from miles away just felt mentally exhausting, if not physically detrimental.


    //Clara: Assuming you reach A-Rank, 3 or 4 year¡¯s salary.


    ¡°Even if they can see us, they are unlikely to take us seriously enough to be a threat. At least until we start attacking.¡± Roxy raised an eyebrow and turned to me. ¡°At least, if they were normal, that would be the case. If whatever is possessing them is especially aggressive, then we¡¯ll be in for a shitty time.¡±


    [Joy. If both the vehicles get totalled, then you¡¯re carrying me home.]


    ¡°No romancing on the job, hun.¡± She shot me a wry grin before looking back toward the city. ¡°I love you, but from this point, it¡¯s business only. I know I can trust you to stick with that, and I expect you to keep the others in line. Now I¡¯m getting back into this whole-ass, I will run a tight ship.¡±


    [I¡¯m your left hand. Whatever you ask.]


    Her head turned to me, her expression neutral, but her eyes practically glowing with fiery energy. ¡°Let¡¯s burn the fucker to the ground.¡±


    Before I could address that rather stark statement, Clara pinged through in my lens in the group chat.


    //Clara: Comms check. Echo.


    //Rockslide: Echo.


    //Gunquake: Echo.


    //Captain Snaps: Echo.


    //Little Wren: Echo.


    //PHG Belle: Echo.


    //Clara: Comms confirmed. Maintain closed chatter from this point onward.


    //Rockslide: We are going to approach the south east corner of the structure.


    //Rockslide: Obscuring Breach procedure.


    //Rockslide: Keep each other safe and focus on the mission.


    Everyone signed off their approval. It warmed my internals to see it all in action. A tighter performance than I¡¯d ever seen from them. I was glad we had designed this scenario buster yesterday, even if we had no use for it at the time. There was still plenty of risk to it, but at least we weren¡¯t going to be running up to the large walls like headless chickens.


    Roxy gave me a nod, and I hit the accelerator. We all had our roles planned out, both for our entrance and beyond. The super had been filtering commands to the others during our drive over, but gave me fewer notes. She knew the experience I had, and we had fought together a few times before. I wasn¡¯t quite the sidekick she had envisioned, but with this kind of mission, I was in my element.


    We knew we weren¡¯t just being tested on our ability to kill, though. Her leadership, Clara¡¯s assistance, and how the team worked together were all under the microscope. Mostly because the League wanted to eat their cake yet still have it after. We had to be marketable as well. A verifiable super team under their purview, even if they sent us off under the cover of night to do the unthinkable. A dangerous game, which was my favorite kind.


    As we rocketed toward the isolated civilization, I wondered how many places like this existed out in the wastes. Maybe a handful in the local city cluster, hundreds in the continent? The World Government seemed either too busy to deal with them, or it wasn¡¯t worth their effort. Of course, the League of Heroes also believed the Gov was cultivating bad groups around Goldarch to pose a constant threat¡ªwhich was a reasonable guess, as that is almost what they did with villains in the city.


    The wagon shook as we bounced over rough lumps in the cracked ground. Roxy held onto the furnishings, her jaw clenched. My mood cooled, and I tried to get in the right mindset for what I was about to commit. Mass murder. The minutes ticked by, and I found my grip tightening on the steering wheel. Fun and games were over.


    A plume of sand burst up as something fired at us from their battlements. Missed by twenty feet, but it caused Roxy to swear loudly.


    [Your command?]


    ¡°We need to get closer first. Slam it.¡±


    I sped up as she told the second vehicle to fall behind us to use the quake-wagon as cover. A few shaky seconds later and an odd sheen covered the windscreen. Belle had put a protective shield over my vehicle. Now I felt slightly more comfortable about not getting my brains blow out. Not that the attackers had particularly good aim.


    A second puff of shredded ground burst into the air thirty feet in front of us as a second bullet whizzed past and way beyond our convoy. If only Ren used a sniper rifle rather than a bow, we could return fire. I made the mental note to ask Clara how much it would cost to get a satellite armed with an orbital cannon.


    I swerved around a grouping of rocks and bumped my way onto a smoothed road. Still rock and dirt, but something Blightwatch used regularly.


    //Clara: Estimated disembarking time, 30 seconds.


    A bullet struck the windscreen, cracking the glass. The shield shimmered and prevented it from piercing through.


    Roxy glared at the bullet hanging a foot away from her face. ¡°Motherfucker, I¡¯ll stick that rifle up their ass.¡±


    [I am ready for disembarking.]


    ¡°Roger that.¡± She calmed and shook her head. ¡°Alright, it¡¯s go time, Dubs. Swing a right to that section of wall, near the corner.¡±


    With a nod, I did ask she asked, bumping back off of the road and onto the rougher ground once more. The quake-wagon growled and shuddered as we plowed through thicker sand. It was built for this, however. It was part of our plan.


    //Clara: 10 seconds.


    Roxy took a deep breath and held onto the door handle, ready. After a couple of seconds, the wall ahead of us growing larger to fill our forward view, she nodded. ¡°Now.¡±


    I hit the handbrake and twisted to the side, pointing the side of the vehicle with Roxy in at the wall.


    The flash of Roy whipped around ahead of us, a wave of sand filling the air in his wake. Once he had circled back around to the other vehicle in what was hardly two seconds, an arrow struck the space between the wagon and the wall amongst the powdered sand. A large swirl of angered wind spun through the heated air, drawing up more debris in a torrent to create a large obscuring wall between the city and us, something that put even my Triple Smoke to shame.


    And Roxy was gone. I popped my door and stepped out, almost immediately joined by Belle. She gave me a grim smile as the roar of our strength super billowed out from the cloud. Ren was standing atop her vehicle, hand out and controlling the wind. The Captain had his hand just over his eyes, trying to pick out the shape of Roxy as the sound of masonry collapsing gave us the signal we needed.


    Ren quit her tornado and drew a magical arrow to her bow, one eye closed to focus on any figures. I set off into a jog, Belle following me behind. Roy sped past us to assist the strength super.


    As impressive as the structure had been, no man-made building could stand up to Roxy. Rather than assault the gates, we had made our own entrance. A landing zone to start our fight proper. Segmenting the combat to room-by-room basis put things in our advantage. That was the intention, anyway.


    The scouting drone unclipped from my backpack and caught itself in the air, almost immediately zipping out high above us.


    //Clara: Deploy successful. Running recon.


    She spun the quicker technology up and around the falling plume of sand, and a few seconds later the elf fired her bow¡ªthe bright white of her arrow piercing the temporary gloom. I assumed Clara gave her the target¡¯s positional information. After earning her first kill, she dropped from her vehicle and ran to catch us slower ones up. She was the softest target out of us, which was sometimes at odds with her need to be at a distance from the combat.


    We plunged ourselves through the rain of debris and out to the other side, clearly seeing the hole torn through the brickwork. Flickers of electricity bloomed on one side of the room while Roxy tore a figure literally in half. The League were playing with fire here. There was a reason the Gov was keen to kill me off.


    I slid to the ground and covered the two women as they leaped over the low remnants of shattered stone. Whoever was home didn¡¯t have the confidence to drop down from the high battlements behind us, but I couldn¡¯t leave that as an open possibility. When I couldn¡¯t shadow Roxy, the Captain filled that position.


    Belle held up her book, and the dome filled the chamber, giving us some breathing room.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    It looked like the room had five occupants originally. One had been crushed by the falling wall. Roxy had pulped three while Roy had stopped the runner from leaving the room. They appeared to be similar to orcs, but something about them was different. A darker, reddish skin rather than the usual green hues. Their eyes were a luminous pink, still glowing and staring off at the walls even in death. I wasn¡¯t sure whether the swirling tattoos were branded on their skin before or after the entity had taken over.


    The room itself almost held up to the shipping container-esque appearance. It was oddly shaped, at twenty feet tall and double that long. Shelving and beds were affixed to the walls halfway up, ladders dotting the place. The miscellaneous objects amongst the debris told me this was probably just a simple home. Well, simple was an awkward phrase for it¡ªas I could see now that the walls also bore similar markings as the tattoos.


    And they pulsated with a similar pink hue as the eyes of these bodies.


    The drone hovered down beside me, almost unnoticed with the quieter motors.


    //Clara: North has an open area where targets are gathering.


    //Clara: West is more residential housing.


    Roxy clucked her tongue and turned to us. She hadn¡¯t seen fit to use her lava yet, which was understandable¡ªexhaustion early on would neuter a great deal of her power.


    ¡°We¡¯re heading to the center, as discussed. I want to head North and clear some space first, rather than beeline, to create a path we can fall back to if required.¡±


    We nodded our acceptance of her plan. There was no arguing, really. She strode over to the doorway as we got into position. Ren watched our backs, bow at the ready while I settled in to shadow Roxy. It was a shame there wasn¡¯t the time to gauge the elf¡¯s reaction to getting her first kill. She was rather pragmatic and business-like in her personal life, so maybe it would be the same for this.


    As Roxy paused at the doorway, I unclipped a grenade from my vest and handed it to Roy. Smoke shell loaded into my chamber. Despite our gathered strengths, we had agreed that just mindlessly tearing through everything might work, but only for so long. The shared experiences of the Captain and myself gave us plenty of ideas for how to progress through scenarios like this while decreasing the risk we put each other through.


    Belle cast a shield over Roy, and the strength super kicked open the door into the small courtyard. My Smoke shot hit the ground about a dozen feet away from Roxy, blooming gray cloud around the open doorway. The Captain zipped off.


    Roxy went out as I loaded a new shell in. Roy was back before a new one even made it out of my magazine, blinking his eyes to remove the lingering effect of the Flash grenade. There was a loud crash and the sound of rifle fire, before mostly silence. I was now able to pick up the sound of shouting in the muffled background.


    //Clara: Behind.


    I spun in place, Overcharge and Reflex burning through my system, V-Force drive shaking from the sudden power surge.


    Three figures had come over from the front gate, each armed with the same rifle that I had heard from the courtyard. They looked flintlock in design, single-shot and roughly made¡ªbut powered by yellow crystals rather than the expected gunpowder.


    Their glowing eyes against the looming dusk made picking them out as targets rather easy. We had even practiced target acquisition and division of force in our training. I¡¯d allow no rookie errors on Roxy¡¯s watch.


    I blew a steel sphere through the upper torso of the one on the right, just below his throat. Ren¡¯s arrow slammed through the eye of the one on the left. Before the middle one had a chance to raise their rifle up to get a bead on us, Roy was in front of them. A flurry of blows acted like a powerful taser, shaking the body of the orc before they dropped from the crackling blue arcs, their head smoking.


    We turned and moved to catch Roxy up; the Captain holding back just to check there weren¡¯t more following us. Out from the cloud of smoke, the super was there, covered in blood. Eyes focused and burning with intense energy. A couple of red lines on her arms where she had been shot, but it had barely broken her skin. Belle still hit her with some minor regeneration to keep her topped up.


    She had thrown a stone bench at a group trying to use another one as cover. Then punched through another three who hadn¡¯t gotten the hint. Blood sprayed up the wall from where they had burst. In addition to the crimson splashed about her, she looked anything but a hero at present.


    //Clara: There are several groups gathering back at the gate, intending to send waves out behind us.


    ¡°Fuck¡¯s sake,¡± Roxy said with a sigh. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to split attention or forces.¡±


    [We could bring one of the rooms down to block the route, although that will pin us in.]


    ¡°I can always make a new exit,¡± she said with a nod.


    So we just had to hope nothing happened to her. Out of all of us, she was the most likely to be fine¡ªbut she would also take the brunt of a lot of the problems coming our way. High risk due to attrition. They¡¯d have to get through me first before anything bad happened to her. I wouldn¡¯t survive letting Clara down.


    ¡°Ready to breach that doorway,¡± she said and pointed to the next northern doorway. While we went and prepared, she stepped over to the room we had just left. With a short grunt, she leaped up into the air through the thick rock, before landing back on it, cracking the roof in half lengthwise. A wave of powdered stone washed over us as the house collapsed, and she hopped back over to us.


    The orcs would still be able to clamber over the debris, but it would slow them enough to make it less enticing than circling back through the internal routes¡ªeven if longer. I considered this for a moment, before holding my gun-arm out. Fuel sprayed from the barrel as my backpack emptied out some of the refilled juice. After the sneeze of the shotgun cleaning out, I pumped through and incendiary shot. Flames burst up and ran over the cluttered debris, giving the orcs a secondary reason not to attempt to sneak up on us.


    Tazer loaded into my gun-arm as I walked over to the next exit and gave the speedster a nod. He burst through the door and slid across the room, dodging the first shot that cracked against the wall. Ren''s arrow broke through the skull of the second, their shot offset into the ceiling. I stepped in and blasted the third occupant with my electrifying shot. Roy finished them off with a quick one-two before knocking them out with a spin kick. He hopped in place, limbering up as he exhaled.


    ¡°We still have the element of surprise on our side,¡± Roxy said, moving into the room behind me. ¡°Once they organize, we¡¯ll have to be more cautious.¡±


    [This looks like ragtag militia rather than an organized force so far. Both houses have signs of the owners being workers. Mining and craft equipment.]


    Belle pulled the door closed as she came in last. ¡°It¡¯s likely there is a tiered system here. The orcs are probably the working class, on the outskirts of the city. We may come across better equipped and trained groups further in.¡±


    ¡°Sounds likely,¡± Roxy agreed. ¡°The targets are expected to be at super level, so keep those eyes peeled. Exterminate with extreme prejudice.¡±


    In her current state, that phrase gave me the chills. I was once again reminded how easily Roxy could switch to being a villain. She just lacked the motivation. Or rather, she had been laying dormant in more ways than one. Unfortunately, I loved it. The act fit something comfortable and familiar. Probably my old squad leader was built around strength and being a hardass. That just made the rest of this play out a little smoother.


    [Ready to move on.]


    Clara was outside somewhere, watching the local area. While some of the blocky buildings were directly adjacent to each other, some opened up into open spaces. Courtyards or what passed as gardens out here in the wastes. Keeping an eye on those was more important than having the drone stuck in an enclosed space we already had control over. It was more than control. The orcs didn¡¯t have an answer to Roy¡¯s speed, let alone Roxy¡¯s strength.


    We switched to our secondary formation, which had those two up front, with the elf and I at the back. While it gave me less to do, there was no point putting myself in harm''s way, either. Until we met a different degree of opponent, this was the best strategy.


    After all, today wasn¡¯t about my own ego trip for a change. I didn¡¯t have to drag my beaten body over the finish line by a hair¡¯s breadth just to earn some kind of penance for the sins of my life. This was about the whole. A workable team that the League could utilize. I could take a backseat for a few minutes to show that I could play well with others.


    //Clara: Rooftop targets West in the next yard. Estimated 40ft distance.


    ¡°Frag,¡± Roxy requested, and I responded immediately, tossing her one of my new toys. ¡°Smoke door.¡±


    Her foot launched the wooden blockade into shards, and my shot obscured her entrance. She stepped through, and I watched her outline lean back before pitching the explosive. The detonation came a split second later as she launched it with such force that it exploded immediately after hitting the group waiting for us with rifles. I turned back to watch our backs while Roy zipped through the smoke to mop up.


    I glanced over at Ren. She looked tense, sweat running down the side of her face as she glared at the door with me.


    [You¡¯re doing well. You¡¯ll shine better when we get into more open areas.]


    The elf shot me a humorless grin before focusing on any potential targets again. ¡°Thanks. This is just a lot more intense than expected, and I feel somewhat out of place compared to the rest of you.¡±


    [That¡¯s just in your head, believe me. Let¡¯s move on.]


    With a nod, she turned and moved over to the doorway while I covered her. I could imagine why she felt the way she did. Her business kept her rusty, and she hadn¡¯t had to work too hard as a hero. Despite this, I knew she was powerful and had more strength and ability than she had realized, even after training. She just needed to see this as the new normal.


    [Holding up, Belle?]


    The defensive hero raised an eyebrow and gave me a brief nod. ¡°Nothing too strenuous so far, His guidance willing. A shield that isn¡¯t damaged doesn¡¯t take much of my mana, and these heathens are terrible shots.¡±


    I gave her a nod in return, slightly bemused some of her pious vernacular had come back. Not as much as usual, but she was halfway between the two personalities. I had worried that my aura of preventing access to Him would affect her spell casting, but she assured me that it would take a lot of exposure for that to happen¡ªand she couldn¡¯t stand me for that long.


    Out of all of us, I was the only one allowed to engage in idle chatter. Not because Roxy was playing favourite, but because it was part of my role. Being in charge of morale and unit cohesion had been delegated to me almost immediately. They were all fine with it, not just because I had become the de facto second in command, but I had been the one to push the broken parts together. It only made sense to be the glue to hold us whole.


    As we emerged from the fog, we found Roxy stretching out her back in front of a collapsed building. Roy was crouched down beside one of the corpses, observing their odd appearance.


    [Thoughts, Captain?]


    He pulled a face and turned to me. ¡°Nothing good, ¡®Quake. These are Rot Orcs, but they have been mutated past their usual unique ancestry. The weaponry is odd as well. More magic than technology.¡±


    ¡°Have a look, Belle,¡± Roxy requested. ¡°And then we¡¯re moving on. Four more rooms north before we¡¯ll start toward the center.¡±


    We had been moving up the east wall of the pyramid interior. I had been the one to convince her to not go straight for the prize from the outset. A risk, but she could see the benefit of clearing a space behind us. Being surrounded could be dire, even against these weaker opponents. We had discussed the merits and risks of splitting up, but both agreed that we would all stick together unless something strange came up.


    There was enough power to make two or even three effective groups. I didn¡¯t think of us as individuals, however. We were one whole unit. By condensing our strengths into a singular fighting group, we would become unbreakable. Any efficiency we would lose in lack of spacial control wouldn¡¯t matter if success was inevitable, and we¡¯d all return to our homes in one piece.


    I had enough blood on my hands. I didn¡¯t need theirs as well.


    Belle used Detect Magic on one of the odd rifles. Her face contorted, and she eventually shook her head. ¡°His blessing doesn¡¯t allow me to pick out many details. These crystals are infused with magic, and produce high velocity projectiles similar to a bullet.¡±


    ¡°Any corrupting effects? Poison or any other bullshit?¡± Roxy wiped the blood from her hands off on her thighs.


    ¡°None that I can tell.¡±


    ¡°Perfect. Recon?¡±


    //Clara: West is now blocked, targets diverted.


    //Clara: North is two residential, then a larger open space.


    //Clara: Targets convening. Will keep you updated on the number.


    //Clara: Currently 12. Cannon-like weaponry being moved in place.


    Roxy grinned and looked at the rest of us. ¡°Looks like they¡¯re getting a welcome party ready for us. Who¡¯s in the mood for fireworks?¡±

 97 - Problem Solvers

    High Explosive shot put a circular hole through the door. Ren¡¯s arrow followed through, striking the ground outside and blasting the gathered orcs with a cone of high-powered air, knocking them away from their cannon. Rather than head through the door, Roxy burst through the side wall, coming out amongst another group of orcs waiting with one of the larger weapons. My Flashbang grenade followed the elf¡¯s shot out of the hole.


    Once it popped and blinded them, Roy went through¡ªimmediately rushing into the group in disarray, light flickering around his strikes.


    Belle put the dome up, and Ren and I stepped out into the courtyard under the cover of the spell.


    The drone hadn¡¯t been incorrect with the estimated twenty-four targets. Chewing our way through the two prior rooms had given the enemy enough time to roll in four whole cannons, most of the orcs also armed with the odd crystal-powered rifles. My side pouch now contained three of said magical yellow energy sources. Something for Clara to test back home and see if we could use for anything useful. If we had the time and the limbs, we might loot some more on the way out.


    Shots ricocheted from the domed barrier, ripples forming where the odd bullets struck it. Belle exhaled from her nose, book still raised as she kept it powered up. Ren drew up three arrows into her hand and aimed up at the balcony area on the far side of the courtyard. One cannon was up there, and we hadn¡¯t had the chance to disable it.


    Her eyes glowed bright blue, seeing one of the strange orcs raise the firing mechanism in his hand - the hollow barrel of the large weapon aimed right for us. The cannons were also powered by the same yellow crystals, but had six of them arranged in two rows near the back like an old-tech vehicle engine.


    One magical arrow struck the orc through the forearm, just below the wrist. Second went through his chest where his heart should be. Third went just under the jaw, piercing out the back of his neck. As he dropped away, one of his fellow ordinance group dove for the dropped mechanism. My metal ball burst his skull open like a rotten fruit.


    A large stone bench that had been flipped on its side screamed as it slid across the ground to us from Roxy¡¯s position, the granted cover allowing Belle to drop the dome and switch a shield onto Roy. The speedster ran over to Roxy, who gave him a light toss onto the balcony area.


    It wasn¡¯t even ten more seconds before this section was cleared, the orcs totally overwhelmed.


    Belle sighed and closed her eyes, now sitting on the edge of our cover, in brief meditation. Ren was walking around the bodies, inserting one of her arrows through their chests to make sure they were all dead. Roxy had spent most of this brief downtime trying to clear the blood off of herself, but had only managed to smudge it around. Roy had procured a sharp knife from one of the orcs and was trying to use it at a speed where he wouldn¡¯t accidentally cut himself with the excessive movements.


    I had mostly kept an eye on them all. Mercenary work could be grim. Disheartening and unfulfilling. They seemed fine so far. The fact that the orcs had been unresponsive, not even yelling or threatening us, made it easier to dissociate from them being people. The fact that we hadn¡¯t seen any children was both a blessing, but something worrying. I didn¡¯t kill innocents, and there was a good reason I was bringing two drums for the first time. Nerve shot was a mercy compared to any alternative.


    ¡°Just waiting for recon,¡± Roxy announced, ¡°and then we¡¯re moving toward the center. There being no other waves yet is worrying.¡±


    [They were hoping to use their more disposable pawns to get rid of us, but we have been deemed a credible threat. Either we will see one of our priority targets soon, or they are escalating their response and need time.]


    ¡°There¡¯s probably a mine, right?¡± The elf asked, wiping the blood off her magical arrow before allowing it to vanish. ¡°You think the biggest assholes are going to be at the deepest or highest point of this place?¡±


    Roxy shot me a glance, seeking my input.


    [Unknown until we know what they are. Their motivations and intelligence.]


    The drone hovered down from a window higher up.


    //Clara: Western room is a warehouse.


    //Clara: Another large group of ~25 targets.


    //Clara: There is an interior walkway around the edges of the room.


    The strength super inadvertently ran half-dried blood through her hair with her fingers before giving the drone a nod. ¡°I want Gunquake and Wren up on that to provide ranged support.¡±


    [I can hit the wall beneath that window to provide us with an entrance point.]


    ¡°Ah,¡± Belle pulled a face. ¡°What about me?¡±


    I leaned over and picked up one of the orcish rifles from the floor before holding it out to her.


    [Want some on-the-job training? See if you can use that and shield yourself.]


    ¡°I can throw you up with Gunquake,¡± Roxy offered. She rolled her tongue over her lips as if she wanted to interject against my suggestion, but let it slide. It was breaking protocol. She knew that I had a knack for this sort of thing, however. A bullshit instigator.


    ¡°Ugh.¡± Our support hero put her book into the hip holster she wore and handled the rifle into a shooting position. ¡°I mean, it has a trigger, but¡­ hmm.¡±


    We watched as the yellow crystal glowed brighter slightly, before a green light started to swirl around it. Like ink dipped in water, it moved and gradually took over, eventually changing the whole thing to a luminous hue. Belle then pressed the trigger, striking the wall away from us. Instead of the crack of a bullet, it left an area of bright green as if she had hit it with a persisting flashlight.


    My magical detection aura gave me a few hints.


    [That¡¯s a¡­ debuffing effect.]


    ¡°Even with a gun, His blessing only allows me to offer support,¡± she replied, a humorless smile on her face.


    Roy didn¡¯t look too convinced, and pulled a face at the odd sheen on the wall. ¡°But¡­ what does it actually do?¡±


    She rested the rifle up on her shoulder and put her left hand on her magic book. ¡°Makes people more vulnerable to acts of god.¡±


    The speedster hesitated before giving a response. ¡°Oh, okay.¡±


    It was a rather vague response, even I agreed. It managed to fit our current theme of natural disasters, however. Also gave the support something more to do when not maintaining a shield that was pseudo-offensive.


    ¡°Time to move,¡± Roxy said, unwilling to wait for a detailed explanation. She held her hand out, ready for me.


    I took it, and she tossed me into the air for me to land on the balcony above. Ren hopped onto her horizontal bow and flew up while Roxy prepared to throw the apprehensive support hero. I caught and assisted her balance as she landed. Belle gave me a nod of thanks as we arranged to the sides of the window.


    [Wall looks too thick for me to fire through.]


    ¡°Stand back,¡± Roxy called from below. I watched as she stepped over to the stone bench, proceeded to break off a chunk of it with almost no effort at all, and then turned back to us while she held it over her head.


    We moved a healthy distance away across the balcony, before the super launched the chunk of debris through the air. It struck just beneath the window, bursting through the stone and shattering the glass. As soon as it had connected, she powered forward to enter through the ground floor doors.


    I was the first one through the created hole at the top, striding through the falling debris as a shield enveloped me. The room beyond was large, like four of the container-like rooms had been stuck in a two-by-two formation. Rows of tall shelves lined from one side to the other, all filled with boxes and crates.


    There were also orcs using gaps in the storage to perch higher up. Ready to shoot down on us. Although they hadn¡¯t expected us to emerge from the balcony height, there were three opponents standing up on the left side where we were. The first fired on me, their bullet ricocheting from my metal shoulder.


    Ren put an arrow between their eyes, causing my metal ball to strike the one behind them instead. While the elf brought another arrow up, I threw the Flash grenade in my hand over toward the center of the room. As soon as it left my hand, I shot out my grapple, striking the top of the nearest shelves.


    With my foot braced against the top of the railings, the tension of the wire tightened before trying to pull me forward. The tall shelves shook as Roy provided the assist¡ªbreaking the stout legs on this side as he sped through the room, causing the structure to tip toward me.


    As the two orcs using these shelves as cover tried to jump away from the toppling shelves, Belle hit one with her stolen rifle. The orc bloomed with green light, stumbling as his feet found the floor¡ªbefore tripping. Even against the carnage Roxy was dealing out, the sound of the orc¡¯s head striking the corner of a metal desk rang out, their skull split open.


    I released my grapple as the shelves crashed down onto some lower ones, plumes of dust billowing into the air as crates and bags of unknown material split and burst. Flickers of blue came from the other end of the room as the speedster dealt with the orcs who had been blinded by my grenade.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Stone burst from the wall beside my head as a shot whizzed past my head. Ren retaliated immediately, striking the orc across the other side balcony through the chest. Before we could focus on the other two on that balcony¡ªwho didn¡¯t know whether to shoot us or Roxy¡ªthere was a terrible groan as one of the shelving units lifted into the air and shunted forward. With a reverberating crash, the right side of the warehouse turned into a deafening set of dominoes.


    //Clara: The last remaining are falling back. Row of residential further North.


    Unfortunately for them, Roy had that area covered. When we caught him up after moving down the stairs at the end of the room, the speedster was catching his breath, smoke wafting from his electric gloves. Several dead orcs around him on the ground.


    Roxy hopped over the pile of debris to join us. A few new wounds across her arms that started to heal up as Belle cast regeneration on her.


    ¡°Sitrep, Gunquake?¡±


    [I anticipate we are about to find out what phase two of their defensive plan is.]


    ¡°Excellent.¡± She pulled a face and rubbed at her temple. ¡°Everyone holding up fine?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s stressful, but I am adapting,¡± Belle said, giving the rifle a cautious glance. ¡°His guidance willing.¡±


    Ren shuffled her boot on the ground before pushing some golden hair behind her pointed ear. ¡°Already booked the therapy session I¡¯ll need after this. I will continue to perform as expected.¡±


    The speedster gave her a grin and wiped the sweat from his forehead. ¡°Almost shattered my own arm trying to stab someone with a knife, but otherwise, just peachy.¡±


    Roxy nodded and turned to me, which briefly put me on edge, as I hadn¡¯t expected to need to be asked. Still, we were all equal now.


    [Oh. Fine. Learning to share the limelight is difficult, and I am apprehensive to learn what they have here to warrant the League sending us.]


    She wrinkled up her nose and hummed. That was the crux of the matter. The orcs were no match for us. We could spend the rest of the day going from room to room and shredding them¡ªor at least until they lost confidence and ran from the place. If the League thought this was a trial for us all, then there would be something actually dangerous here. I knew better than to accept the easy ride we were having.


    ¡°Get warmed up again,¡± she eventually concluded. ¡°Although we can get away with catching our breath here and there, I don¡¯t want to get complacent. After a few residential buildings, there is a market district, and then we¡¯ll be near the central complex.¡±


    Before I knew it, we were in another room, killing a token resistance. We had become accustomed to the process, and the orcs had no chance against us. In the last room, we checked our gear and equipment, ready to break into the market.


    Just as Clara informed us, the orcs had made this another point to hold against us. Now joined by goblins who also had the glowing pink eyes, most of the shop windows and any available cover hid plenty of opponents.


    Out into the fight, we were immediately met with a torrent of shots. Belle growled as her dome flickered from the dozens of deflected attacks. For the first time since arriving here, we had to split directions. I took several steps to the left and barged through a doorway, opening up into a small shop floor. Still the same stone as the rest of the place, but there was a middle wall splitting the shop into a front and store room.


    Two orcs and three goblins waiting by the window spun to face me. The smaller trio were armed with strange melee weapons. Obsidian handles with purple blades and spikes. Overcharge blew a Smoke shot straight into them.


    I rolled off to the side as their blind fire put small holes in the wall behind me. Chamber clacked back and forth as the outlines of my opponents appeared through the obscuring cloud. The lens had given me a low number for their Threat. Slightly higher than expected, but I put that down to the odd possession that seemed to have a hold of them.


    Stepping up to them as they panicked, I put a metal ball through the skull of the first orc, before allowing Quickness to help snap my elbow down on the face of a goblin. I spun and lashed out with a kick, knocking the next back, my drum mag pushing up another ball into the chamber. A couple of flashes of violence, and this room was clear.


    //Gunquake: Requesting smoke clear.


    A second later, a burst of air washed away at my smoke, my trench-coat billowing as the gray dissipated within two quick seconds. Just in time for me to see a wooden wagon fly through the air and burst into the shopfront ahead of us. I slid across the counter of the open-front store, back into the market square proper.


    The flash of a green magical bullet passed me, striking a goblin to my left¡ªa trio now running with their fangs bared to catch me in melee. Grapple went out at the one now glowing green, the metal rod managing to hit the back of his neck via his open mouth. He stumbled as the expanding foam filled his throat and poured out from between his teeth. It hardened and split the top of his head off.


    I blocked the melee swing of the second of the group and hopped back from the follow-up. A rush of air passed me as Roy ran by, plucking up the third into his arms and then speeding toward the buildings further down. Sparks rang off my gun-arm as my opponent made another clumsy attack, and I knocked his arm back¡ªallowing my barrel to twist around to place against his forehead. Brain excavated.


    //Clara: Belle requires your assistance.


    Behind me, the support hero was pinned down by three rifles from further down range. The elf was nearby, but was trying to quickly bandage her forearm, which was bleeding heavily. I hit a Smoke against the ground just out from Belle and ran over, sliding down into cover beside her.


    [Are you injured?]


    ¡°No.¡± She looked up at me, a scowl on her face, before she turned to notice the elf. Exhaling, she brought her hand up and cast regeneration. ¡°I shielded myself and Ren was injured as a consequence.¡±


    [Irrelevant. Get up and fulfill your duty.]


    Although she looked like she was about to bite back at me, she just gave me a determined nod. I knew that she had a lot of pressure to keep us safe, but if she let failure or indecision consume and blind her, then she might as well not be here. It was a necessary tough love. The squad required her to function. I needed her to act as expected.


    With a brief, guilty glance at Ren, the defensive hero picked up the rifle and trained it around the Smoke to a shop a few doors down from where Roxy was currently destroying everything in her path. The magical bullet zipped out, striking a goblin. Her target stumbled back, glowing green, and knocked into an orc trying to aim their rifle. The orc twitched and fired, blasting the other orc right in front of them through the back of the head.


    Our debriefing was going to be long and very interesting.


    Ren now had her bow back up, a swirl of energy running down the arrow in her hand. She fired it out to somewhere near the back I couldn¡¯t see due to my Smoke cloud, but the shattering of glass and crash of debris lasting several seconds painted a decent enough picture.


    A wave of dust washed over us as Roy slid to a stop behind our cover as well. He held his left hand out, now without the glove, and partially burned.


    ¡°A little healing, please. Apologies to Miss Clara, but I overloaded one of the gloves.¡±


    //Clara: Retrieve the equipment if safe to.


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± He gave a sheepish nod of thanks to Belle as she cast her healing on him.


    If anything, this battle had been fantastic for working out our weaknesses in a real combat scenario. While Roxy and the Captain could weather or avoid most attacks from this sort of enemy, the rest of us were in a little more danger. Without Belle¡¯s shield, we couldn¡¯t rush into a group of ranged weapons. At present, she could only place it on one person at a time, which was a limitation I hoped to push her into breaking.


    She sunk back into cover after firing the rifle again, scowling and shaking it. ¡°Cursed object is running out of juice.¡±


    Indeed, the crystal looked dimmer¡ªalthough even as we both glared at it, the brightness was slowly returning.


    //Clara: Gunquake. Five targets using your Smoke to approach your position.


    With a grunt, I stood and swung myself over the thick cover. A shield washed over me, as did the cloud of gray. Goblins. A few seconds of clangs and blasts from my shotgun. No more goblins. I emerged out of the other side of the dissipating smoke to find a pair of orcs crouched with their rifles up.


    An arrow struck the floor behind them, and a sharp burst of wind pushed them up, stumbling towards me. My left hand grabbed at one rifle to turn it away from me. Gun-arm lashed out into the surprised maw of the possessed orc. Fuel pumped through from my backpack, before the sneeze of cleaning V-Force blasted the gurgling figure to the floor. The other tried to pull his rifle back from my grip, and I let go. While he stepped back, I moved forward, the blade popping out of my gauntlet and finding a warm space to roost in his neck.


    I turned at the sound of destruction, but just saw that it was Roxy dropping a pillar she had been using as a club. A grim smile on her face, she walked over from the collapsed shop¡ªone of many¡ªpowdered dust stuck to her in clumps where she was covered in blood and gore.


    ¡°I would say I¡¯d literally murder for a hot shower, but¡­¡± she grimaced and shook her hands off.


    We regrouped in the middle of the marketplace, any opposition either dead or long gone. I watched as the elf stepped up to Belle and put her hand on the support hero''s shoulder.


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t beat yourself up. You can¡¯t protect all of us all the time.¡±


    Belle pulled a face. ¡°That¡¯s my only job.¡±


    While Roy joined in on trying to reassure her, I didn¡¯t step in. Instead, I gestured Roxy a little closer.


    [I have an idea, but it might sound strange.]


    ¡°I¡¯m all ears, Dubs. What do you need?¡±


    I made my request and she gave nothing but a nod before turning and leaving our little group. The others gave her a brief glance, but remained in their conversation.


    //Clara: All clear at present.


    //Clara: No targets sighted in the local area.


    That either meant they were really retreating, we had gotten rid of most from this area, or they were pulling back for a more malicious reason. Something told me it would be the last option.


    Roxy returned, holding the long barrel of one of the cannons. As per my instructions, she then split the section holding the six crystals off, and tore the cylinder apart, leaving just a thin slice of curved metal with the magic objects affixed. This had gotten the other¡¯s attention now, and I gestured Belle over.


    From my underutilized utility belt, I brought out some thick wire.


    [Turn around. If you could assist, Rockslide.]


    Tying knots was one of my weaker points, having only one hand - something I¡¯d learned through experience. It wasn¡¯t the first time Roxy had helped me with that, although such thoughts weren¡¯t very conductive to our current mission.


    With our defensive hero looking pretty confused and apprehensive, we affixed the torn cannon part to her like a backpack.


    [It¡¯s just like with the rifle. Focus your detection magic and funnel His guidance into these crystals.]


    She turned her head back to pull a face at me, but nodded. ¡°You¡¯re optimistic, Gunquake, but your confidence is convincing.¡±


    We stepped back as she rotated to face us all. After a deep breath, she calmed herself and put her hand on the magic book at her side. The yellow glow of the crystals arranged in two vertical lines of three could be seen even from this side of her. If anything, it made her look even more divine.


    Her eyes closed. Gradually, the hue behind her changed. Roy slowly stepped around to the side of her, his arms crossed. Once he got in clear view, his eyebrows raised and he shot me a glance.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Belle said. She opened her eyes, and they were pure green¡ªglowing entirely. ¡°This is¡­ I¡¯ve never felt so close to His strength.¡±


    [Do not forget, this is like a temporary battery. Keep me updated if there are any negative side effects from using them this way.]


    Although she nodded, she was clearly distracted by this new source of power. My idea might even be a mistake given how little we knew about the crystals, and I felt slightly bad about pasting my chaotic risk taking streak over the others in my team.


    Belle held out her hand. A green glow pulsed behind her, and a shield washed over me. Not only over me, but Roxy and Ren as well.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± she said. ¡°I could do all five of us, but it would drain most of the power. If this is stable and safe, this might change¡­ everything.¡±


    [Focus on the mission and play things safe. We will explore options tomorrow.]


    Her glowing green eyes switched to me, and she grounded herself. ¡°Thanks, Gunquake. I¡¯m ready to move¡­ on¡­¡± Her brow furrowed, and she looked up and to the center of the structure.


    [What is it?]


    Overcharge hummed into life by reflex, picking up on the subtle changes in her expression before she could verbalize the answer.


    ¡°Something bad is coming,¡± she said.


    A dark shape leaped into view into the air, from a distance that almost put Roxy¡¯s jumps to shame.


    ¡°Brace for contact,¡± the super growled, getting into a fighting stance.


    ¡°Old magic,¡± Belle whispered, her eyes wide in panic.

 98 - Table for Five

    The figure that slammed down into the ground didn¡¯t look like old magic to me. Eight feet tall, it looked more like some manner of robot. Interlocking plates of dark steel and areas of oxidized brass, it did look ancient - that was true. Its right hand only had two large fingers and a thumb, whereas its left was just a long, pointed lance.


    It was also covered with runes that glowed in that same pinkish tone as the eyes and wall scrawlings. Even with the upturned and peaked edges of the design¡ªpointed horns like a scarab and thick shoulders pads¡ªit was surprising to see there was something fleshy within there.


    A small mouth with sharp teeth, and a neck of dull pink flesh. Nothing much, but the rest of the body was pure metal and roughly humanoid¡ªif slightly insectoid in places.


    As soon as it landed close to us, it stepped and lashed forward at Roxy.


    My heart jumped into my neck as the shield around her burst, and she spun back across the ground from the impact.


    The metallic monster went to jump and follow-up, but my grapple had already struck its foot, the expanding foam pinning it to the stone market square.


    It turned to me, just as a magical arrow bounced off of its metal head. No damage. It had no eyes that I could discern, nor did it seem able or willing to talk with us. I was taking a stab in the dark, but I had a feeling that this was the thing¡ªor one of the things¡ªthat had been dug up.


    Twisting its leg, the hardened foam burst and split, their leg coming free.


    Threat Level 143.


    Overcharge ran down my gun-arm as I loaded in a Triple shot of Tazer. Instead of launching at me, it held up its right hand. The palm had a circle of pink energy, which began to glow like it was about to blast me with a beam. Just before I could act, Roxy slammed into it from the side.


    ¡°Motherfucker!¡± she growled, sending it sliding across the ground, but not toppling it. The super was now sporting a deep gash along her arm and across the side of her face, something slowly stitching back up as Belle empowered her healing spell.


    I fired my payload, striking the flat-footed machine with all three Tazer cartridges. Blue and white light arced and flickered around it like lightning, before dissipating. It didn¡¯t look any worse for wear, so it wasn¡¯t electronically powered. I dropped the metal ball drum out with a thought and pushed in the High Explosive mag.


    ¡°You should move, Dubs.¡±


    To my left, Roy. I hadn¡¯t realized it, but he had carried the other two further back from the fight in the time it had taken me to fire and reload.


    [No. I will assist.]


    He nodded and took the produced plastic explosives from my extended hand. As Roxy rolled across the ground to avoid another lunge of the lance, the speedster passed behind the machine, slapping the handful onto the back and skirting away. The metal figure tried to spin and lash out, but Roy was just too fast.


    A burst of green struck it, before an arrow bounced off of the plated head again. Ren was aiming for the small meaty part, I was sure¡ªbut the way it was hunched over made it a fleeting target.


    As it went to turn back to Roxy, its foot slipped on loose gravel and it wavered¡ªthe green hue fading from it. The super used this opportunity to leap forward and punch it. Not only did it weather the attack, but grabbed her left fist. Her right hand then took hold of the lance, and the two contested their strengths.


    For the first time in years, I felt uncomfortably small. Not quite fear, but out of place. It was holding its own against her. It might even have the edge. As my temperament cooled, Roxy looked to be heating up. The first time that she had found an equal to fight, and it just made her angry. I could see the flames flickering in her eyes, desperate to get out.


    The metal right hand started to glow, the power held on its palm powering up to shred her held fist. I detonated the plastic explosives as I fired a HE shot into the knee joint of the machine. It buckled slightly, more from surprise than damage, and Roxy was able to push it away. The palm-cannon blew a short beam of pink energy into the ground by her feet, shattering the rock into a cloud of dust.


    Before it had an opportunity to act, my synapses ran wild with Reflex. Quake shot struck it in the same knee, the pulse of V-Force bucking it further. Another Act of God painted it from the distance, and Roxy moved in.


    Her left arm burst into lava in a near instant and she roared as she punched into it with an uppercut. Straight into the fleshy part. It burst and sizzled immediately, and the runes on the machine flickered before slowly going inert.


    With her normal hand, she held her head, grimacing at the aftershocks of my Quake until they had passed. I stepped over to her, mostly resisting the effects.


    [Are you alright?]


    ¡°Yeah, fuckin¡¯ best day of my life.¡± She shot me a scowl, her face still bloody from the wound that stretched across her cheek. ¡°Not often I¡¯m on the wrong side of being punched to death.¡±


    I turned my eyes to the empty machine, just as the remnants of the fleshy part fell out.


    We exchanged a glance as the others came over. I had figured it was perhaps a humanoid or similar creature in there, like a suit of armor. But the part that had fallen out was¡­


    ¡°Is that a big ass maggot?¡± The super said, her grimace clearly showing her disgust.


    I kneeled down, and Belle joined me, her eyes still fully green. It did look like a maggot. Almost like a two-foot long version of the wastesworm. Bulbous fleshy body, small circular mouth with tiny sharp teeth all the way around. At least, from what I could tell. Most of it had burned away and was partially bubbling in places.


    ¡°No idea, Gunquake,¡± our healer said. ¡°Let me deal with healing up Rockslide.¡±


    I was not surprised to see that the drone was hovering right beside the machine as I stood up. Slowly, it circled the odd metal figure and sunk below the chest area to get a better look at where the maggot had been held.


    Ren sighed, her arms folded while her bow floated beside her. ¡°It¡¯s no fun when my arrows can¡¯t help.¡±


    I nodded and then gestured with my gun-arm barrel.


    [Even Roxy¡¯s lava didn¡¯t melt this metal. Only gave it a little clean.]


    ¡°Fuck¡¯s sake,¡± the elf murmured, shaking her head.


    //Clara: I am unfamiliar with the construction, power source, or materials used in this machine.


    //Clara: Without being there in person to check, here are my assumptions (to be taken with a grain of salt.)


    //Clara: It appears to be wetwear. Technology that uses biological brainpower for computational purposes.


    //Clara: Seemingly made specifically for these maggot creatures.


    //Clara: It is like a piloted suit, but the maggot is not sentient. It only follows basic instructions.


    Roxy groaned. ¡°This is the fucker they dug up? A fuckin¡¯ maggot mecha?¡±


    [One that is impervious to most of our attacks. Did the League know?]


    She shook her head, but wasn¡¯t so sure. ¡°I¡¯m going to update them. If they¡¯re not already glued to our trial, then this will get them shitting themselves.¡±


    //253453: You need to try to smuggle this back home, Gunquake.


    While we had been using our now-default encrypted channels, the message she had just sent solely to me was on an even more secure line. Even our names were obscured numerical values. After a few seconds, her message auto deleted.


    //431912: Will do what I can.


    Nigh-indestructible metal? Even if the rest of it was beyond our understanding or uses, if we could work out a way to forge with this odd material, then that¡­ well, it would be good for several things.


    ¡°League has their big brains trying to dig up information based on what I¡¯ve told them. Sent them a picture too.¡± Roxy sighed. ¡°Other than that, they want us to continue.¡±


    ¡°What if there¡¯s an army of these bastards?¡± The Captain said, looking rather sour.


    [We know their weak point now. It shouldn¡¯t take us long to devise strategies to disable them.]


    While their murmurs weren''t exactly confident over my statement, I turned my eyes to Ren, who had her head tilted to the side slightly - her gaze unfocused.


    [What can your elven ears hear?]


    She shot me a tired look before putting her finger to her lips. We quietened down, and she closed her eyes.


    ¡°There¡¯s¡­¡± she turned on the spot, before pointing off to the northwest. ¡°Something moving. Coming this way, I think.¡±


    ¡°More machines?¡± Roy asked.


    ¡°No. Smaller, more subtle.¡± Her mouth opened and closed. ¡°Writhing.¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I raised an eyebrow and looked over, my lens magnifying slightly. It always made me slightly dizzy when that happened without me fully intending it to. As the rest of the group stared that way, the drone flew over.


    //Clara: Hold.


    //Clara: No visual¡­


    //Clara: Wait, I see movement. It¡¯s another maggot.


    //Gunquake: It¡¯s headed this way?


    //Clara: Affirmative.


    ¡°So there are more maggots,¡± Belle said, trying to adjust the cable holding the crystal battery pack to her. ¡°And they are¡­ drawn to get into the machines?¡±


    ¡°The fuck is this place?¡± Roxy complained. ¡°So if we leave this hunk of scrap here, some gross worm will eventually seek it out and then we have this problem again? We can¡¯t exactly keep an eye on it as we progress.¡±


    [I can try to disable it. First, what can you tell us about the magic used, Belle?]


    ¡°Old as anything, for starters.¡± She ran her tongue across her lips before her eyes switched from it to me. ¡°You can probably sense it too, but there¡¯s almost a different texture to magic from when Othea was steeped in it. Thicker, like molasses. As for the spells, I can approximate there are lots of wards that boost strength, durability, density, speed, and there¡¯s something underlying that I can¡¯t place. Probably whatever makes it function, as well as the beam weapon.¡±


    [Interesting. How heavy is it now, Rockslide?]


    Roxy stepped forward and tried to tip it, finding it much easier than when it had been active. I¡¯d never seen increases in density as a spell or even as a useful boon before. At least we knew we could probably throw it over to the van when it was time to pack up.


    While she had it tilted, I brought out a refill for my grapple. Rather than load it in to my gauntlet¡ªwhich I couldn¡¯t do myself anyway¡ªI placed it into the smooth groove where the maggot would sit. It expanded as I removed my hand away and filled the space¡ªswelling around the area before hardening.


    ¡°I doubt they can chew through that shit,¡± Roxy murmured, before allowing it to stand on its own again.


    [It won¡¯t last forever though, so we will need to wrap this up as soon as possible.]


    ¡°Alright team.¡± The super clapped her hands together. ¡°Group up at the western doors. No more time for breathers. We know what we¡¯re up against, so let''s go kick the shit out of everything in our way.¡±


    As they moved to follow her, I pulsed out a generous slathering of fuel from my backpack. After the sneeze, an Incendiary shot loaded in from my selectloader. It would probably burn for longer than the foam would last, and might be enough to dissuade or damage the maggots.


    ¡°I just want to say one thing,¡± Roxy said, as I joined the others. ¡°You¡¯re all doing great. We¡¯ve never been pushed this hard, or had as much at stake. Keep kicking ass. This is just our beginning. Phoenixes... or some shit.¡±


    ¡°Speech energy running low?¡± Roy asked, a wide grin on his face.


    ¡°Yeah. This is a lot for me as well.¡±


    //Clara: Next room clear.


    Roxy gestured for the speedster to lead, and he pushed through, the other two following suit while she stayed back.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this, Dubs,¡± she murmured, once the group was far enough ahead. ¡°Trial by fire is fuckin¡¯ extreme for the League. They wouldn¡¯t even send the S-Rank group for this¡­ whatever it is.¡±


    [We would have all died if it wasn¡¯t for you.]


    ¡°Exactly. I¡¯m so used to being the unstoppable bitch that I can physically feel my ego shrivel up. I got rocked because I was being sloppy.¡±


    [We all have work to do on being better heroes. You¡¯re being a fantastic leader, so go lead.]


    She gave me a tired smile, some of her professionalism taking a backseat as I pushed the right buttons. The super turned her cheek to show me the healing wound. ¡°Think it¡¯ll scar? Scars are badass, right?¡±


    I hesitated, not saying what I had intended in case the League had eyes on us. We¡¯d go public when it was the right time, and not muddy our mission performance with our sop.


    [A war wound or two shows character, but I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll fade.]


    She seemed content enough with that answer, and with a gesture, we stepped into the next room. The other three had taken it upon themselves to try to seek out any clues or answers laying about, but it seemed mostly uninteresting. I felt rather¡­


    Disjointed from the concept of my intended heroic role. Perhaps it was just the strange machine being much stronger than expected, but I was under the assumption that I¡¯d be used to shakedown mutant groups and people hiding in the wastes. I supposed the clearest feeling I could grasp onto was that I felt like I was disposable.


    As well as the fact that we were all being put at risk, and there was no choice but to obey - otherwise the League would split the group and fill the position with a different group.


    We took a brief moment to discuss how to deal with another enemy like that. Disabling weapons and holding the core in place so that one of us could kill the maggot seemed like the best bet. Roxy helped me load a new foam cartridge into my grapple, and I gave the two remaining refills to Ren and the Captain. I then topped up my mags and selectloader as we prepared to breach the door.


    I wondered where the rest of the populace had gone. Other than killing three maggots making a beeline for the inert mech, we saw nobody else as we traveled an empty street and went through three more blocky buildings. There were a few questions about how it had come to this still unanswered, but the glowing lines painted on the walls didn¡¯t give us any clues.


    ¡°Diary here,¡± Roy noted, lifting up a book as we moved through what might have been a classroom of some kind. ¡°It¡¯s in a language I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Give it to Gunquake,¡± Belle said. ¡°Try holding one of the crystals at the same time.¡±


    I did as she suggested, bringing one out of my pack. The Captain held the book open for me, and I narrowed my eyes. There was a humming sensation in my hand from the crystal I held, and although it was getting brighter, it hadn¡¯t changed color like Belle¡¯s one. Maybe it wasn¡¯t working.


    My eyes turned back to the open pages, and my brow furrowed.


    [I can now read it.]


    ¡°Just as I thought,¡± Belle said with a sly smile. ¡°You don¡¯t have Speak Languages, but Comprehend Languages. There¡¯s a subtle difference, and it¡¯s only because you have a vocalizer that you might be able to speak out loud.¡±


    Roxy clicked her fingers. ¡°We¡¯re still moving. Walk and read.¡±


    Once I dug around in my internal psyche, I could detect the magic allowing me this knowledge. I put the crystal away and could maintain the spell¡ªat least long enough to get whatever information was present from the pages. Roy handed me the book, and we continued behind the strength super.


    Interestingly enough, the first entry stated that the writer didn¡¯t usually keep a diary, but a group of them had been ordered to do so. The reason wasn¡¯t stated, but reading between the lines, I had a hunch it was to do with the mining operation.


    At first, the recovery of the machines¡ªand there were multiple¡ªhad been hailed as a success. Something to increase Blightwatch¡¯s standing. Not long after the three ancient mechs had been dug up, the town received a gift of a special new food source. Not uncommon, the diary was eager to clarify, but it was the odd events that started to occur after this point in time that filled the next several pages.


    [Oh no.]


    ¡°I just got chills,¡± Ren complained. ¡°When it¡¯s you saying that, it can¡¯t be anything good.¡±


    As I flipped through another few pages¡ªalmost dropping the book twice¡ªI then looked up at the group, who had paused and were giving me looks that ranged from apprehensive grimaces to impatient ire.


    [They were raising the maggots as a food source, and it slowly corrupted them.]


    Roxy shook her head. ¡°Gross. How were they farming them here? The wastes are¡¯t exactly a good place for raising livestock.¡±


    I hesitated before continuing, trying to read the room to see how much detail would be appropriate to labor them with.


    [At first it was scrap and refuse. Once the madness started to set in, they started feeding them¡­ each other.]


    ¡°The young, old, and weak.¡± Belle said, her bright green eyes staring off to the side.


    Roy was leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. ¡°Take a few steps back from that. The little creeps were given to Brightwatch? Does it say who brought them?¡±


    I shook my head. As if things could be that straightforward. That meant that someone knew about the unearthed ancient tech, and how to activate it. Would it be too simple to draw a line from here to the World Government? They¡¯d certainly have the resources to have found the maggots and purpose of them, out of all the active parties that I knew.


    Looking back down at the book, it was unreadable again. I pushed it into one of my side pouches. That was enough information for now.


    [There are two other mechs that the book mentioned. I would move forward with the assumption that they are active.]


    ¡°Agreed.¡± Roxy nodded. ¡°Two isn¡¯t as bad as I had imagined. If we play things tight and cool then we¡¯ll have no issue.¡±


    ¡°If they both don¡¯t attack at the same time,¡± Roy murmured, before shrinking away from the glare we all gave him.


    So it was decided that we¡¯d head for the mines. Now that we knew the sentience of the enemy was almost ground level, I advised it would be unlikely the mechs would climb to the penthouse unless for sentry duty. In which case, we¡¯d avoid it. Creatures with more ambition tended to ascend as high as they could, a physical representation of their belief that they were above others.


    These robots just seemed to want to kill outsiders.


    Possibly sentries for a long-lost civilisation? I could think of a handful of activities I could use them for, and my thoughts slowly drifted to questioning how easy it would be to contain the maggots. More than likely I¡¯d need to be controlled by whatever parasites or magical power filled them. There must be a way to fake it, however.


    The brief thought of dropping all three in the middle of Goldarch made me realize the importance of being here. If this had been set up by someone intending to go against the city, then stopping the mechs would be saving hundreds, if not thousands, of lives.


    [Do we have updated mission parameters from the League?]


    ¡°Pending.¡± Roxy turned a raised eyebrow to me. ¡°I¡¯ve told them about what was in the book. For now, I think we should seek out the germination area and purge the maggots, avoiding combat with the metal assholes where possible.¡±


    [Understood.]


    She wasn¡¯t looking for my input or approval, so I didn¡¯t give it. There was no other option, really. After seeing what was here, destroying the threat was the right thing to do¡ªas heroes¡ªeven if we got plenty of blood on our hands along the way. Goldarch would never hear of this. There would be no celebration or medal for our efforts. Hopefully, the League would be doing more than just stamping my application for the reward.


    Still, thinking of crowds of cheering fans just made the current lack of population irksome. Knowing what we did now¡­


    [I believe we will face heavy resistance in the mines.]


    ¡°The mechs?¡± Belle asked.


    [Perhaps, but I believe all the occupants of the city have been recalled there.]


    Roxy placed her hand on the next door and grimaced. ¡°To fight or to be eaten? Actually, Clara, go ahead and see if you can spot the entrance, pull back at the first sight of hostiles.¡±


    //Clara: Affirmative. Moving out.


    As we continued moving, keeping an eye out between the blocky structures that now had a second floor, I fell into step with Belle. A pathway led around the outside, each layer of the rough pyramid its own micro-town in a way, but we kept on the ground floor.


    ¡°I¡¯m reasonably convinced these crystals are Arcane Batteries, in a literal sense.¡± She held the rifle out for us both to look at the shard of material glowing green. ¡°It¡¯s a lost art¡ªat least with such a basic material. These would be worth a great deal to any spellcaster.¡±


    [Could we stick another ten on you?]


    She smiled and shook her head briefly. ¡°While the notion is amusing, there is a limit to how much reserve energy you have hanging around. A few more and my eyes would probably burst from my skull, at the least.¡±


    [You have replaced the arcane energy with His, correct? Are the crystals that malleable?]


    ¡°Seems so.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m sure Clara will be able to tell us more, but we can point a finger to your magic being arcane based, since you didn¡¯t replace the stored energy.¡±


    That was a possibility. It hadn¡¯t felt as easy as she made it look, however. I had long suspected my magical prowess was either naturally low, or had been neutered when becoming a cyborg. Using Comprehend Language hadn¡¯t hurt me like using a full spell had when fighting the lizardkin, so these batteries at least took some of the brunt of the effort away from my brain doing the deed.


    I wondered how Clara would react if I asked her if I should start running a few of the batteries on my belt. Perhaps more important than that¡­ I wondered if she had a way of knowing if we were being watched, so that we could steal all this ancient tech for ourselves.


    Ren put an arrow down the road into a maggot writhing its way across the stone. No doubt there would be ones we had missed. We just had to keeping moving.


    Just as I thought that, Roxy held her hand up as a fist, and we all stopped in place. Clara¡¯s messages came through to us a second later.


    //Clara: Visual on targets.


    //Clara: Mine entrance being guarded.


    //Clara: It¡¯s hard to see over the¡­ bones¡­ and eggs?


    //Clara: Estimated eighty hostiles.


    //Clara: Additionally, twenty to thirty maggots.


    //Clara: Oh, and one of the mechs.

 99 - Mine for the Taking

    I rubbed the side of my head, scratching at my balaclava, before running a finger along the seam of my implanted gas-mask. It wasn¡¯t something I ever really consciously noticed, but it felt uncomfortable right now. Perhaps I had slept on it weirdly and I needed to get it cleaned and pressed back in place.


    Mostly, I was sure it was something to distract me from the present situation. While we had previously agreed to keep moving, the recon report from Clara had us pause to reconsider our approach. Stress levels were high, and I was sure I didn¡¯t need my higher-than-normal skill in perception to notice that.


    A veritable army awaited us, clearly preventing us access to the mines for some reason. It only made it more obvious that we had to get down there.


    The drone was currently scouting the layout of the area ahead so that we could properly plan out our entrance. Orcs or goblins weren¡¯t much of a problem¡ªinitially we had to weather their initial burst of ranged weaponry, but they were quick to fold once we got stuck in. It was the addition of the mech that turned the assault from a dangerous but winnable situation into something deadly. The entrance was also thick with maggots, so the possibility of the metal objects coming back to life was not zero.


    Roxy had been a stalwart leader up until this point, but it was clear she was starting to fray at the edges. Her wounds had closed up and would fade in time, but it had taken her confidence down a few pegs. The best tactical option for assaulting the mine was to not do it. Not now, and not with our current forces.


    ¡°Are you able to Dispel the magic on the mechs?¡± she asked me, her brow furrowed in intense thought.


    I shook my head slowly.


    [Even with the help of the crystals, the magic they are filled with is far beyond my arcane strength.]


    It would be like trying to break into a bank vault using a jewler''s hammer. I hadn¡¯t been too focused on the magic side of things while trying to prevent Roxy from getting shredded into pieces, but it was clear that old magic had more weight and density to it. My own capabilities were thin and forced into my person - unnatural.


    ¡°I could probably get close enough to kill the maggot, if you distract it,¡± the Captain offered. ¡°Dodging dozens of shots at the same time is something else, though.¡±


    Belle drummed her fingers on her holstered book. ¡°I can shield three of us individually, or use the dome¡ªbut then you¡¯d have to stay close to be protected.¡±


    ¡°I can go without a shield.¡± Roxy exhaled through her nose. ¡°Maybe we can keep Wren far back so that she is out of danger?¡±


    [I will go without the shield as well.]


    ¡°Fuck you,¡± the super spat out, before realizing that was over the line for our League mission. ¡°I mean, that isn¡¯t a good plan. You¡¯re not as sturdy as you think.¡±


    [If I may, I believe if I can be allowed to play to my strengths, I can offer us a way through this obstacle.]


    She ran her tongue around her teeth, considering shooting me down again. After a brief glance at the others, Roxy gave me a brief nod. ¡°Alright, Gunquake. This is your rodeo. What¡¯s the plan?¡±


    <hr>


    Being a superhero was never really on my bingo card, even as I got closer to Roxy and grew to begrudgingly accept the League and their interest in me. That wasn¡¯t to say that I liked being a beating stick for Boss, but there was some comfort in the shadows.


    It was with this mentality that I helped concoct our assault. Heroes often approached a problem head-on. It was the nature of being good and bringing justice to evil. Your morals and fortitude didn¡¯t need to be hidden away. When you were the criminal doing reprehensible things, you sought the safety of darkness. Your deeds had to slither past the scouring eyes of those who would stop or look down on you.


    I was probably worse that a lot of criminals my group had met, just looking at the long list of people I had killed over the years. That wasn¡¯t my past life, that was me now. If the League wanted me to bend closer to their way of life, the squad would need to lean closer to my darker side.


    //Clara: In position, Gunquake.


    //Gunquake: Confirmed.


    I planned to ask Clara if we could get a grenade launcher attachment for my shotgun. There was a small chance that she would throw a cold towel on the idea, but I¡¯d prepared a list of benefits it would confer, as well as my best sulking face. If my barrel was an inch wider, then I could just put them in as is¡ªor if they made stick-bomb styled grenades that could work.


    Stepping off the edge of a roof, I landed into a roll across the top of another of these rectangular buildings. Unfortunately, the mine entrance was part of a rare open-air area of the interior pyramid shape. It was also dusk now, and sunlight was fading. The corrupted here didn¡¯t seem to need to put any lights on, which was bad for us the longer we stuck around.


    My grapple clicked back into place as I hopped over an alleyway and onto the next roof. I felt as though I was on the cusp of something¡ªand not just the violence a few houses over.


    Acceptance into the League meant a smoother process for me getting tech upgrades and better utilities. Clara had already ordered the new buildings for our growing compound. Our cartridge fabricator was soon to arrive. The superhero Gunquake would be a powerful individual, whether I was bound to punching criminals in the city or mopping up dangers in the wastes.


    The League thought they could juggle with knives, but I was fast becoming a chainsaw. Excessive and deadly. Hunger for growth ached in my core, so I¡¯d be biting into them once it suited my appetite. Either way, I''d be taking off their hand if they got careless.


    I stopped in place and pressed my body against the wall of the third floor of this building. Still, I couldn¡¯t fault them for giving me something to whet my bloodlust on. They must know it would be a mistake to leave me idle. I leaned forward and looked out to the open area below.


    Although I had to ignore a handful of maggots here and there along the way for the sake of stealth, I had made my way up to the back of the mine entrance. A small building that was built around the entrance on the northern side of a square space cluttered with piles of rubble, mining tools, and what I assumed were the remains of some of the residents that had been eaten by the maggots. There were plenty of those grub-like creatures laying dead and half-eaten as well, the two sides somehow subsisting off each other.


    The groups of orcs were set up in loose rows, like firing squads¡ªthe four or five closest to the southeast entrance, already in position to fire when the supers came through. I was now in the northwest corner, just about. It was difficult to make out as much detail from the gathered forces without my goggles, not half because of everything being a more normal hue.


    Still, it was necessary for the plan. Back in cover, I loaded up Triple shot and pulled a grenade from my vest. I couldn¡¯t see the drone up in the air, but they¡¯d know when it was time, even if Clara wasn¡¯t there.


    I took a long, deep breath. It had been a tiring day, and my initiation to have a seat at the League¡¯s table was more involved than I had anticipated. Not that I had gotten too injured yet, which was a plus.


    With the spike of adrenaline, I turned and fired down amongst the throng. Three shots of Smoke shot striking near the mech, before Reflex spun down my synapses, allowing me to empty the rest of the ten-mag of Smoke into the large horde. From my hand, I threw a frag grenade to where the metal figure had been. As I received a hail of return fire from the blinded groups of orcs, I threw the last of my explosive grenades out.


    The flash of the blast illuminated the inside of the massive cloud of gray. Stone burst around me as a couple of shots came close. I pulled a Smoke grenade and dropped it at my feet. Time for me to get out of here.


    I ran and slid from this rooftop, landing into a roll on the lower one south of here. Resting up against a low wall, I looked up in the air to see part two of the plan play out.


    A blazing meteor dropped from the sky. Roxy with both arms ablaze with lava cratered down, my goggles over her eyes and as powerful a magic shield on her as possible. It was a risky ploy that she almost didn¡¯t accept¡ªbut if it was successful, then it gave us a decent chance against the fortified bunker of enemies.


    She landed in the fog with a crash. There was the clang of metal and she roared. I was tense all over, unable to see what was happening. With a loud growl, a dark shape emerged from the smoke¡ªat great speed and a high angle, over to the south. I watched the inert form of the machine fly over maybe a dozen houses before landing out of sight further down with a second, louder crash.


    Either the grenade or her own punch had killed the maggot waiting inside it, and then we removed it from the area. There was the chance it could get controlled by one of the random maggots in a matter of minutes, but it gave us the chance to burn through the rest of the army.


    The orcs continued to fire at random, attempting to hit the super, but her arms had now extinguished and she went unseen. She could see them, however. It was enough for her to cause a ruckus before a trio of arrows rained down from the sky.


    I held onto my hood as the wind power from the three projectiles combined, creating a miniature hurricane. The cloud dissipated as it was sucked into the spout and spread out over the sky. Discarded weapons and smaller body parts spun around, clattering and bouncing from the buildings.


    And there she was. Roxy tore the head off of an orc, before straight up punting a goblin into a wall, causing the smaller figure to burst like a balloon. Briefly, I crouched wide-eyed at the amount of anger contained within her. Then again, she was being a volcano. Her power suited her to a tee.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    I hoisted myself over the wall, dropping to the ground floor. Roy was there as soon as the wind started dying down. One hand blazing with electricity, he mixed in some of the martial arts to his attacks. Although he didn¡¯t have the strength, getting hit at great speed was almost as damaging, if not completely disorientating, for his opponents.


    Ren appeared on one of the eastern rooftops and started firing down at the enemy in disarray. Either it was the necessity of the mission, or she was getting more used to using her artefact for its purpose. Her bright blue eyes burned, while her expression remained stoic and focused.


    I expected Belle to appear alongside her, or perhaps a different roof, to fire and provide shields from somewhere safe. Instead, she walked in from the direction Roy had appeared. No longer with rifle in hand, her magic book was out and glowing green. With a pulse of light from her back-mounted battery pack, a bolt of green energy swirled out from her magic tome and zipped off to a group of orcs. Although the four of them didn¡¯t take any damage from the projectile, they each now glowed a light green hue.


    My selectloader clacked a HE shot into the chamber and I blasted it at one of these marked opponents. It burst straight through his neck and then detonated in the face of one just behind him. The spray of gore painted the third, blinding them, while the fourth stumbled away from the small explosion, tripping on a corpse and impaling themselves on the crystal of their dropped rifle. Roy zipped in, a straight punch shattering the ribcage of the blinded one.


    I watched as Roxy lifted up a long chuck of the ground she had pulled up, and spun it around like a cyclone, making a paste of a group of the corrupted inhabitants before she launched it off¡ªcrushing three more against one of the side buildings. As a shield washed over me, I stepped in to be her shadow.


    Drum of Nerve shot got a good workout. I kept an eye on her blindside, debilitating and slowing anyone trying to shoot or move in to stab her. She would spin to finish them off, and I would fire in the other direction. Roy sped through to finish off the stragglers before carrying Belle over to us. The woman smiled and held her book up, the crackle of magic clear to even those without detection capabilities. A brighter and larger dome appeared around us.


    It took maybe another two minutes of fighting before we had completely cleared the open yard, but by that point, it was all going through the motions. Once we reached a certain level of power and unity, there was nothing they could do.


    I switched out my near-empty Nerve drum and put the metal ball one back in. Looking over at the group, they were exhausted.


    Roxy was sweating profusely, which helped to clear some of the orc blood she was practically dripping with. She currently had her hands on her thighs, hunched over as she tried to catch her breath. Steam ran off of her.


    Both Roy and Ren had taken it upon themselves to walk around and make sure everything was entirely dead. The amount of damage we had dealt out made death pretty easy to diagnose in the ones missing body parts or being smears of crimson across the gray stonework, but it paid to be cautious.


    Belle had been reading through her magic book, as if it was something new. Eagerly drawing out¡­ something¡ªI wasn¡¯t sure how that all worked and didn¡¯t care to find out. My muscles ached and I could really do with a fresh canister. I would have asked someone to assist with the spare I packed, but my mind was actually occupied with something even more important.


    My eyes went up to the drone, who was hovering over by the mine entrance. An open maw leading down into the earth. Darkness within, and probably a lot worse.


    But what I really wanted was to know how we were going to steal this shit for ourselves. I had been assuming the League had been watching us, and they¡¯d want to know all the details about what we had found. No doubt after we were done here, they¡¯d send a cleanup team to acquire information and evidence¡ªespecially if they suspected the World Government had a hand in this.


    We¡¯d need to play this coy and see what we could get away with. I wanted as many of those crystals as we could carry, and one of the mechs. There was just too much potential that we could learn from it. A nigh indestructible blend of old magic and ancient tech. If I had the energy to have an imagination, I¡¯d have all those qualities pasted atop my other enhancements.


    ¡°Circle round,¡± Roxy said, standing back up straight and grimacing. ¡°We need a break, but we¡¯re right at the end of this bullshit parade. Let¡¯s get through the mines and put a bow on this before one or both of the mechs come back.¡±


    ¡°The third might be down there,¡± Ren said, looking over at the entrance. ¡°I¡¯m not a fan of being¡­ underground.¡±


    //Clara: I will stay out here and monitor movement.


    //Clara: Should there be any trouble, I will inform the Captain.


    Roy nodded and rubbed at his beard. ¡°If it¡¯s anything other than the mech, I could buy time for the rest of you to get back out.¡±


    [Sounds great. Let¡¯s get moving.]


    I only had one Flashbang grenade left on my person. The rest were still in the quake-wagon. Maybe not the right time for it, but I wondered if it was too soon to whine for more.


    We stood by the entrance. Mine cart tracks ran from here, but they looked either unfinished or broken. They weren¡¯t set evenly and were missing many of the wooden boards between the metal rails.


    Roxy held out her hand, and it turned into lava, bringing light to the area. I palmed around my vest for the seldom-used mounted flashlight. Belle was practically radiating green light from all of her crystals, while Roy just made do with the light we gave out. Ren just hung at the back and looked out of sorts.


    As much as I wanted to tell Roxy she looked great in my goggles, I kept it professional with just a nod of thanks as she helped put them back over my eyes. I pulled my hood back up and glanced behind us at the night. It was unlikely the League could see us down here¡­ but I wasn¡¯t about to take the risk on that kind of unknown.


    The strength super led us forward, down the roughly hewn corridor that sloped downward. There was a noticeboard nailed to the wall that probably detailed how extensive the caverns were at some point, but had now been painted over¡­ or had decayed from the slime of maggots sliding out of this area.


    In fact, now that I thought about it - the rock around us had a certain sheen to it.


    ¡°Most likely, this is the spawning point of the abominations,¡± Belle said. ¡°I can smell the thick stench of their foul nature.¡±


    ¡°Here,¡± Ren offered. She passed out cuttings of her bandage material for each of them to use as face masks. ¡°We don¡¯t know if consuming it is the only way to become corrupted.¡±


    Thankfully, my re-breather filtered out the worst of the smells. I presumed that I would be safe from whatever the maggots could do, and there was no point bandaging anything of mine up, anyway.


    As we entered the first wider chamber, at least two of us let out an audible groan. Eggs or some sort of pupae shell littered the area. There were two exits from here, but one side was absolutely clogged with debris. Dark gray chitin and strands of thick webbing mixed with bones and body parts not fully decayed.


    ¡°A nest?¡± Roy asked, looking like he wanted to gag.


    Ren shook her head, equally as nauseated. ¡°Refuse pile.¡±


    Not that I wasn¡¯t expecting it to bust open with fresh maggots or something worse, but it looked as though the elf was correct. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for creatures, even of low intelligence, to do some functional tasks, especially when it came to their home or reproductive lifecycle.


    The second passage led further downwards, but was our only option. Our job here was to secure safety for Goldarch, but how far did that extend? We could probably kill most of the maggots down in the mines, but we wouldn¡¯t know if there were stragglers hiding in the city. We weren¡¯t pest control¡ªplus the mechs were near invincible. Maybe our decision about how far to go was one of the testing criteria for our mission.


    //25344: Report anything interesting.


    //98231: Still working on how we can get out with everything.


    I sent her confirmation that I understood her messages. Then almost walked into the back of Belle as they had stopped¡ªRoxy had gone around the corner to find herself almost face-to-face with a maggot crawling on the wall.


    ¡°Fucker!¡± she swore, her voice echoing down the corridor. With her normal hand, she tore it from the wall and threw it down, stomping it into the ground.


    After regaining her composure, she pulled a face at what the rest of us had been silently looking at.


    Dozens of maggots, crawling their way along the walls, ceiling, and floor. Not especially toward us, but we were in the way between them and the inert machines.


    ¡°Can¡¯t we just collapse the mines?¡± Ren asked.


    [We have to fully investigate, I¡¯m afraid.]


    Belle rubbed at her head. ¡°I think this is all getting to me. Either the stench or grasping at extra power has my mind muddy. Can you sense anything, Gunquake?¡±


    [Other than our shared disdain for this place, no. I will remain vigilant in your stead.]


    The silver lining was that the small creatures weren¡¯t very threatening, even if they were visually abhorrent. It was simple enough to kill them as we went, and I was at least thankful that they didn¡¯t squeal or make any other noise. I couldn¡¯t imagine wanting to eat them willingly, but perhaps that was just me speaking from a position of privilege. As I didn¡¯t have a mouth.


    ¡°There¡¯s just more and more,¡± Roxy said through clenched teeth.


    Sure enough, they were either trying to flee or fulfill their purpose in finding the machines. Their nest was clearly down here and destroying that would be part of our mission objective. We passed several other off-shoots in the mine, but they were all blocked with refuse. Almost as if we were being guided to this position.


    And then, we found the exit. It was hard to see out into it at first, due to the darkness and dozens of maggots in the way, but our dim light finally reached the edges of their next.


    Piles of refuse and their weird nesting goo had formed stalagmites reaching halfway up to the rough roof of this large cavern. The edges of mining platforms and tools could be seen poking out of clusters of eggs¡ªmost empty and decaying away, but some plump and full of life.


    In fact, as we begrudgingly stepped into this room, there was an amount of¡­ awe in the extent to which these creatures had proliferated. Aside from the piles of egg clusters hanging to every object and corner, the walls were thick with them, floor to ceiling. Everything writhed and undulated, aside from a small patch of walkable stone which was still thick with the maggot¡¯s slime.


    ¡°Ugh.¡± Roxy put her forearm over her face to cover her nose better. ¡°I guess we can burn this down, then? Can¡¯t see shit here that-¡±


    I noticed it too late. We all did, really¡ªbut thankfully I was the one to bear the brunt of our lax defenses.


    The third mech burst out from our right-hand side, obscured by the filth of the egg clusters it had remained hidden. Potentially the long-term guardian of the maggots.


    Lance lashed out toward me, striking my right shoulder. Shield was just slightly too late, but prevented the sharp tip from skewering me all the way through. It had bent some of my cybernetic arm, the metal folded into the muscle of my more fleshy parts. Stims washed through me to abate some of the agony.


    ¡°Dubs!¡± Roxy yelled, grabbing hold of the machine. It resisted her, unmoving as its other hand raised up, beam gathering energy as it intended to erase my head. I could see the super about to switch into maximum power. A terrible idea, but Roy was there to prevent it.


    He slid across the slick floor and jabbed up into the maggot controlling the machine with one of the goblin blades he had taken. Not wanting to take any risks, he then grabbed and tore the dying creature out from the perch¡ªand before I even had a chance to get the lance pulled out of me, he had slammed the expanding foam into the cockpit.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± Belle said as she came up to me, guilt across her brow. ¡°I couldn¡¯t-¡±


    [I am fine. Rockslide, I will need your assistance.]


    ¡°Of course.¡± She pulled the mech away and out of my wound and then stepped up to inspect me. ¡°What do you need, Du- Gunquake?¡±


    I moved my jacket to show her the impact site. Explained that she would need to put her fingers in there, cauterize the wound as she bent the metal back to the correct shape. Despite almost bathing in filth, her lava powers were a decent disinfectant, and a quick burst had her hands clean¡ªif not a bit dusty with molten rock. The alternative was my skin and muscle trying to heal over the piece of metal.


    Belle assisted with light as the super performed the impromptu surgery, grimacing at her fingers, bloodied as they dug into me. The other two killed maggots around the machine.


    ¡°It didn¡¯t hit your synapses or anything, did it?¡± Roxy asked, as she stepped back and wiped my blood off on her side.


    I flexed my arm and moved the chamber open and closed.


    [Seems fine. Muscle movements will be slow from the damage, but I am functional.]


    ¡°Ah, guys?¡±


    We turned to see Roy, who was frozen in place. He raised his finger to point at a wall further down that I couldn¡¯t make out from here.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to want to see this.¡±


    Killing maggots along the way, the three of us joined him. Ren took out her disgust on a few more creatures before seeing what we were looking at.


    A fourth mech, still half-buried in the thick stone.

 100 - Natural Disasters

    I kept my eyes on the wastelands ahead of us as we traveled through the darkness.


    Tidying up the rest of the mine had been a simple, if not gross and exhausting, ordeal. I had emptied my backpack of all remaining fuel and we set the maggot nest aflame. Roxy then brought down the entrance, sealing everything in. Hopefully, the lack of oxygen would finish off anything the fire didn¡¯t.


    We then let the League know that we were done, and that we had found the three mechs the diary had mentioned. Two outside and one still buried. A lie that weighed on us half as much as the fourth machine laying in the back of my wagon and fucking up the suspension as we returned through the wastes.


    They had asked us to drag the other two inert mechs into the wastes, bury them, and have Roxy glass the sand with her lava powers. That seemed to be a reasonable way of making sure the maggots didn¡¯t get to them anytime soon. Although, I wondered what they¡¯d do once they had recovered the old tech. We hadn''t found where the crystals had been procured from, which was odd.


    Belle had fallen asleep almost immediately after we removed her crystal backpack. While Roxy and I were physically worn out from the evening of fighting, the other three in their vehicle had a different kind of tiredness to them. Their first mass murder. It was easy to hand wave the task as the mutants being lesser, or the fact that they were corrupted meant they couldn¡¯t be saved¡­ but at the end of the day we were still taking lives. Even I knew that. I had just accepted it a long time ago.


    Now the only one without bloody hands was Clara, although she had her part in our deception, at least. She knew when the League were watching us, and had given us the go ahead to load up the machine and a couple of sacks full of the arcane batteries into our vehicles. I knew that there was a risk there - Silhouette might even be watching us from close by. It had been a surprise that the others had agreed to go along with the plan without argument. Their loyalties were shifting in my favor.


    ¡°Oh, gods damn it,¡± Roxy murmured. She had sunk into the seat, her annoyance at the waking world the only thing keeping her from falling asleep.


    [What¡¯s wrong?]


    ¡°Message from the League. I¡¯ll send a group chat message, but tell you out loud so you can keep your eyes on the way ahead.¡± She sighed and sat up straight, looking in the wing mirror at the vehicle following in our wake.


    Perhaps they had caught us in the act, and had a few short words to put through our skulls. Maybe it had all been a ruse to get us killed off and out of their hands.


    ¡°No indication of how they feel about our mission,¡± the super said. ¡°They are calling us in. All of us - including Clara.¡±


    [Right now?]


    ¡°At our soonest convenience. Clara said she will drive us in her van.¡± She flexed her fingers. ¡°Anything more than grabbing a snack and meds might have the League on alert.¡±


    [We can just leave my wagon parked up then. I just need a fresh canister and I¡¯m good to go.]


    ¡°Gremlin wants to seal up the cockpit of our guest, just in case. She doesn¡¯t want to risk anything.¡±


    [Understood and acceptable. I trust her intuition. We will drop off our cargo while the lockdown is still up, then make our way into the city.]


    ¡°The others are apprehensive¡­ but we¡¯ll make it work.¡± She tilted her head toward me and gave me a glum smile. ¡°Today wasn¡¯t what I expected. How you feeling?¡±


    [I much prefer murdering my way through criminals and low tier villains. If this is what the League intends with us, then I will need to be a lot stronger.]


    ¡°To be a better murderer?¡±


    [To keep you all safe.]


    She smiled, but rolled her eyes. ¡°We make a decent team, but tonight definitely ran us through the shitter. For all our strengths, we have plenty of weaknesses. Assuming the League isn¡¯t about to slide us into body bags, we have a lot of work to do.¡±


    [Together.]


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Roxy gave me a gentle pat on the leg. ¡°You¡¯re weak as shit Dubs. You need to step up a bit.¡±


    [So that I can rock your shit just like those machines did?]


    ¡°Please.¡± She grinned before turning her eyes out to the darkness, the moon barely illuminating the expanse of the wastes.


    We fell into a silence. There were still a good handful of hours driving before we reached our home, and then we¡¯d need to go straight into the city to see the League. If we weren¡¯t tired already, we¡¯d be zombies by the time we could relax. It made sense that our presence was requested immediately. But equally, we needed rest and time to process everything that had happened.


    For the most part, my mind was blank. While I had endured my fair share of stamina-shattering fights over the years, this one also left me emotionally and intellectually spent. My promise to Roxy that we¡¯d get the team shipshape together wasn¡¯t just my affable charm trying to remind her that we were together.


    It was an assurance that I had her back when it came to running the team. My interests were in keeping everyone collectively competent and strong, far beyond the scope of being their friend or her partner. For better or worse, I had tied my fate alongside theirs.


    As the wastes stretched on forever, the occasional loose gravel or bumpier section on land gave my heavy vehicle cause to shake and complain. I settled on some simple facts to avoid worrying about the bigger picture.


    [I¡¯d like a new hand, one day.]


    Roxy didn¡¯t respond immediately, her own thoughts trying to drag her brain to a land of sleep. ¡°Yeah? I¡¯ve noticed you¡¯ve been more¡­ frustrated with just having a gun there lately.¡±


    Was that true? It was always the small things. Trying to prepare food for us. Holding the super. Navigating places that didn¡¯t require me roughly putting holes through things in anger. As my life slipped closer to normality and my old existence brought memories back to the waking day, my disability had become increasingly tiring. A brain-controlled shotgun wasn¡¯t the worst thing to have with my new line of work, just as it had been for my last, but now I wished I could at least take it off when I wasn¡¯t being a killing tool.


    [If anything, I am more maddened by Boss, for giving me an arm with such a singular purpose.]


    Despite wanting to clear my mind of such things, I had wandered straight to them.


    ¡°I feel like¡­¡± the super sighed and looked up at the roof of the wagon. ¡°A hand would be sick, as would a mouth, but it¡¯s really up to how you want to be. I love you as you are, and will support you for as long as you are the same on the inside. Like personality and emotions-wise, I mean. No doubt your organs will get fucked up at some point.¡±


    [You¡¯re probably right. On all accounts.]


    ¡°Of course.¡± Roxy turned her tired eyes to me. ¡°You have some fetish for being the underdog, and as much as the others are weaker, you¡¯ll probably be the first of us to die. None of us can protect you from your own hubris. So fuckin¡¯¡­ live life and be the best Dubs you can be.¡±


    We fell into silence again for a few moments as I let these thoughts rotate and click into place within my tired brain.


    ¡°Sorry, babe. I¡¯m talking complete balls because I¡¯m tired.¡± She sighed again and sunk into her seat.


    It wasn¡¯t like she was wrong, though. In fact, I considered myself almost genetically disposed to fight against higher odds than I should. I had started making it out of fights with fewer near-death wounds as of late, but it would only take me shaking the wrong villain tree for that to come crashing back down.


    Maybe this was all moot until we knew what the League planned to do with us.


    [You¡¯re fine. We are all exhausted, but you were amazing tonight.]


    ¡°Is that because you finally got to see me humbled?¡±


    [No. You just constantly remind me why I fell in love with you.]


    Roxy smiled and closed her eyes. ¡°Soppy shit. That fight in the big smoke cloud was cool as shit, huh?¡±


    [We¡¯ll have to get you similar goggles. They would suit our rebranding. But overall, I can always trust that you¡¯ll do what is needed. Our prior training clearly set us apart from the others.]


    ¡°Mmm. You¡¯re hinting that it¡¯s convenient I can pulp through scores of bad guys, huh?¡± She shuffled, but didn¡¯t open her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s just an ego thing. Kinda sickening when you think about it, but after you convinced me to use my full strength back at that clone factory¡­ I love exerting my full power. Makes me feel in control of my life again.¡±


    As dangerous as that sounded, I didn¡¯t want to be a hypocrite and try to steer her away from that. I wasn''t sure I could even say anything that salient in my current state. Part of me loved it, too. Romance aside, having a team member who didn¡¯t hesitate to kill with their full power when needed was comforting. Now I knew she had limitations, and we could work on that.


    [Control is important. We are both finding our new place in this world.]


    ¡°Together,¡± she said, echoing my previous platitude.


    It was enough of an agreed statement to settle us back into silence once more. Following the route of safety provided by my lens, we continued on into the night.


    <hr>


    I had never felt so happy to see my home. The illumination of the garden lights appeared long before we were able to roll our vehicles up near the workshop. Clara was there waiting, her arms folded and scowl across her brow.


    ¡°Time is limited, Gunquake,¡± she informed me as the five of us emerged from the vehicles. ¡°Full lockdown doesn¡¯t like it when there are so many individuals present and active. Put the machine in the workshop.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t long before Roxy had grabbed the mech and managed to wedge it through the doorway, placing it on the floor. The others carried the bags of crystals, while Roy went to grab a canister and snacks from the kitchen.


    As soon as the metal figure was laid down, Clara was atop it. Reflective sheet in hand and tubular tool in her hand, her eyes switched to a deep gray color as she quickly welded a thin piece of metal all around the cockpit. Taking no chances.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Roxy helped put my canister in¡ªwhich was bliss¡ªwhile the others briefly gorged themselves and stretched their legs.


    Clara hopped off, the job done, and placed the tools off to the side. The techie then popped open a small box and brought out something that looked like a miniaturized landmine. ¡°Prototype before I figured out the Quake shot,¡± she mentioned, shooting me a glance with her green eyes. ¡°Proximity charge. Will release a singular burst that would shred the mind of a maggot, but little else. Let¡¯s move, Gunquake.¡±


    With a nod, our tired bodies found no excuse to not dance to her tune. Roxy and I got into Clara¡¯s van, while the other three returned to Ren¡¯s off-roader. Full lockdown dropped, our normal security returning, and we started off toward the city.


    This leg of the journey was a lot more tense. Even the normally stoic techie was visibly stressed. We were silent. I couldn¡¯t even muster up the strength to thank her for the work she had done tonight. Everything was weighing on how this meeting went.


    Me becoming a hero. Our team resurfacing from the edges of being struck off the ladder. Clara being my sidekick officially.


    The journey to the League of Heroes took what felt like twenty seconds, my brain not functional enough past the buzz of apprehension to fully take in the trip through the city.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± Roxy finally said, leaning forward to look at the building. ¡°I won¡¯t echo this to the other three¡­ but if shit goes sideways, we¡¯re causing as much collateral as possible.¡±


    Clara shot her a glance as if to say that it would be easy for the strength super, but just gave a nod in return. It was a little early to be plotting against the League, but our sensibilities were worn thin. If it came down to us or them¡­


    The six of us convened at the entrance and stepped through into the lobby. Despite it being the early hours of the morning, Miguel was there, looking as chipper as ever. He whistled as we shuffled ourselves over.


    I couldn¡¯t blame him. We stank of sweat and blood. Covered in gore, maggot slime, and dirt. From top to bottom, we were in shambles. Nothing like the heroic image we were supposed to be, and our facial expressions were probably the worst of it.


    Miguel gave us a soft smile. ¡°I won¡¯t keep you folks with my idle chatter. They¡¯re already waiting for you.¡±


    Of course. We gave him our nod of thanks and went to the left towards the elevator. I paused for a moment to look over at the right of the room, staring at what appeared to be an empty space by the wall. Perhaps I was just being tired and paranoid. I filtered into the tight space last. We must look quite the sight.


    The brief vertigo as we ascended stopped a lot sooner than I had expected. I wondered if we weren¡¯t going to one of the offices, but somewhere¡­ worse. Any attempt to conjure up potential scenarios was a waste of energy, as the doors opened and answered the question for me before I had the chance.


    Rather than a corridor or lobby, the elevator was built into the side of a wide chamber. Taller than expected, considering we were inside of a building. A roughly square room of large off-white tiles that my mind painted as being some manner of training room. Perhaps with augmented reality or something.


    A long table, looking rather out of place, sat in the middle of the room, where a group of five figures were waiting for us. Six chairs were on this side, clearly for us.


    Director Kingston was in the middle and stood to gesture for us to sit down. ¡°We appreciate you all coming in with such expediency at this hellish hour. Please sit, and we will try to get through this as quickly as possible.¡±


    I didn¡¯t recognize the other four behind the table, which was odd. I had been expecting the trainer and branding experts from before. Roxy and I took the middle chairs, where I had Clara and then Belle to my right, and the super had Roy and then Ren on her left.


    The two figures flanking Kingston were also suited up. The man on my left had short white hair, and a similarly colored beard. Short, pointed ears that might make him a half-elf. A tired look to his deep green eyes, but his casual attitude told me he had probably been working here for decades.


    On the right was a woman, black hair back in a short ponytail and thick-brimmed glasses bright white in contrast to her dark skin. Behind her lenses her eyes were an odd bright yellow, and regarded us with almost predator-like intensity.


    ¡°For those of you who haven¡¯t met them yet, this is Director Francis,¡± he gestured to the man, before his other hand went to the woman, ¡°and Director Rhel. We are also joined by the personal assistant of the owner, and Head of Security, Mr Oliver.¡±


    It didn¡¯t take much to decide which was which. On the far left was a young man, with a drab expression on his face, a pen already working its way through a notepad. On the right side there was¡ªwell, nobody.


    Or at least, when I looked in that direction, the person vanished. If I were looking anywhere else, then I could see them in my peripheral. I wanted that sort of power, although it felt as though I was getting a migraine.


    Director Kingston then sat down, adjusting his hands into a comfortable position on the many folders he had in front of him. He left us with a few moments of silence, but I was pretty sure we were all too exhausted to be worried at this point. We just wanted to get this over with.


    ¡°Again, we appreciate you all coming in with such expedience,¡± his eyes looked up and ran across us. ¡°This is something of an unprecedented event, so I assure you that it is for good reason."


    He flexed out his fingers before leaning back in his chair. ¡°Goldarch is a city that has many problems, much like any other on the continent. It is the tireless work of our many superheroes that makes this such a great city to live in, as we push back against villainy and criminals alike. However¡­¡± the Director steepled his fingers together. ¡°There are growing concerns that Goldarch has issues outside of our city limits.¡±


    Francis took over, leaning forward against the desk as he narrowed his right eye in a squint. ¡°Heroes are a great asset, but most of them just fill the role given to them. They work the media, they dispense justice. Most of them couldn¡¯t tie their own laces if it wasn¡¯t on their timetable.¡± He rolled his eyes, his gruff voice unable to hide some disdain for some of the more simple heroes on the roster. ¡°Other than the occasional accident, no hero kills. It¡¯s in our rules, even. Part of the laws we all live by.¡±


    Rhel then spoke, her voice smooth and confident. ¡°Our detractors do not abide by these limits, however. As you have all learned today, we are not just talking about simple mutant gangs looking for a slice of our pie.¡± Her eyes continued to burn into us each in turn. ¡°The League of Heroes does not intend to sit idly by and accept this fate, so we have been looking for a team who can fight back against these threats. A team that can kill for and protect Goldarch.¡±


    Director Kingston nodded along with the words before giving us a humorless smile. ¡°Your efforts tonight were commendable. We did not expect the threat to be so great, but each of you stepped up and overcame any issues. While we need a group to do this dirtier work, we are not looking for a kill-squad. If you accept our offer, then you¡¯ll have to toe the line. A group of heroes who have to perform the usual roles Goldarch requires, but also run missions out in the wastelands when required.¡±


    I nodded slowly. It was odd that he had phrased it as an offer we had to accept, rather than the test we thought we had to pass.


    ¡°I can see the apprehension amongst all that blood and tiredness,¡± he continued, giving me a nod in return. ¡°There is an amount of danger to this that we can¡¯t force upon you, so you will have to accept the terms. Here¡¯s what we are offering you in return.¡±


    He cleared his throat as he moved a piece of paper in front of him. ¡°Upon acceptance of the position offered to you all, the following will become official. Individual known as Gunquake will become a hero and will be granted full citizenship. Any prior crimes on his record will be wiped clean, and he will not be held accountable for any unknown crimes from the period before the date of agreement. Gunquake will be assigned a sidekick of his choosing. Gunquake will be assigned a position in a reformed supergroup to be known as ¡®Natural Disasters¡¯.¡±


    The Director paused slightly, both he and Roxy second guessing that name. It was meant to be a placeholder, but it seemed as though they were keen to roll out the red carpet for us.


    ¡°¡¯Natural Disasters¡¯ will go through a full rebranding to match the new theme, as well as your roles as vigilante or anti-hero presenting characters. You will all remain a B-Rank team at tenth place on the roster, however you will receive the salary and benefits of an A-Rank team. This includes medical, therapy, equipment, training facilities, and more choice over assigned missions. Any mission assigned out of city limits is both mandatory and confidential. Publicity generated will be tightly controlled or non-existent. Due to the nature of these missions, you will be granted additional holiday hours for recovery and processing.¡±


    Director Kingston took a deep breath and pushed the page away. ¡°It usually takes a lot longer to explain the terms, but I didn¡¯t want to put any of you to sleep.¡±


    ¡°You already have Miss Clara in mind for your sidekick, Gunquake?¡± Director Francis asked.


    [That is correct.]


    ¡°Very well.¡± He nodded, glancing at the other two Directors. ¡°If she also accepts the terms, then she will be dismissed from most of her League duties. She will still have access to the facilities here, but we would encourage you both to set up your own lab closer to home.¡±


    ¡°You already have your own land,¡± Director Rhel noted, pushing up her glasses. ¡°Everything about this is highly irregular, but it seems the puzzle pieces were already arranging themselves before we had a hand in bringing this picture into focus. It is rare we have a group with such natural cohesion after such a short time together, and Director Kingston has nothing but good words about your potential, Gunquake.¡±


    [I can only offer that I will do my best for Goldarch.]


    They hadn¡¯t mentioned that it was the World Government behind the potential attacks, so I knew that Kingston had slipped me a little more information than the rest were keen to give away. Knowing my past, it definitely helped me make the decision about what they were asking of me. Of all of us.


    ¡°Excellent,¡± she replied. ¡°Is there anything any of you would like to declare that may affect our offer?¡±


    I glanced at the others, and they returned the negative in the form of tired, shaken heads. Even with the possibility the League might know we lied and stole evidence from the scene of our mission, they remained tight-lipped and loyal.


    [Yes, I have something to declare. I am in a relationship with one of the group that I do not wish to keep as a secret.]


    The reaction I received from those at the table was something closer to surprise than I had expected. Director Kingston recovered quickest and gave me a quick nod.


    ¡°Of course, that¡¯s no issue.¡± His eyes went over to Clara. ¡°It¡¯s not uncommon for sidekicks and their-¡±


    [No, it is with Rockslide.]


    ¡°Oh,¡± he managed.


    The super sitting beside me had a blank expression on her face, her brain totally somewhere else and pretending that this wasn¡¯t happening. Maybe it was something silly in the grand scheme of things, but I saw it as part of my self-validity. I could have a real, loving relationship. It wasn¡¯t something that needed to stay in the shadows. The fact that the League truly didn''t know was either concerning or relieving, depending on how my tired brain flip-flopped.


    ¡°That¡¯s also fine,¡± Rhel took over. ¡°As long as it doesn¡¯t affect your work. Based on your mission performance, it seems you are able to maintain your professionalism, so I have no qualms with introducing you to the public.¡±


    Francis grunted. ¡°It¡¯ll require some finessing, but that¡¯s not a conversation for today. Natural Disasters will be brought out into the public under an arranged event to ensure you get the best reception with the twists to your identities. So signing the contract makes you official from that moment, but you¡¯ll still be as you are currently until the reveal.¡±


    ¡°We understand this is a big ask of you,¡± Kingston recovered, ¡°especially after the night you¡¯ve had. If there¡¯s any way we can incentivize you all to make a decision sooner rather than later¡­¡±


    [Give us a week off from League duties, and we¡¯ll have a show of hands now. If it¡¯s not unanimous, then we¡¯ll use that time to decide.]


    ¡°Three days,¡± he countered.


    [Five.]


    He ran his tongue over his teeth before looking between the other two Directors, who each gave him a muted nod. ¡°Alright, then. That does give us time to work on costumes and such. No work unless it¡¯s an emergency, but we might need some time with each of you at Headquarters to prepare for the rebrand.¡±


    [Acceptable. Show of hands if you accept the terms and will sign the contract.]


    A brief glance to my left and right. Six out of six approved.


    Director Kingston smiled and flexed his fingers. ¡°It warms my heart to see you all eager. Well, I won¡¯t keep you all from your wanting beds any longer. You¡¯ll receive the official encrypted contracts through your STARs. If there are no further questions, you are dismissed.¡±


    As soon as beds were mentioned, any desire to linger here evaporated. Everyone was eager to leave, and we stood.


    [Thank you for this opportunity.]


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Roxy picked up on my lead. ¡°We won¡¯t let you or Goldarch down.¡±


    After a few nods and murmured platitudes, we were all getting back into the elevator like sardines. I was most annoyed that I couldn¡¯t see the Head of Security still.


    Clara leaned back against the wall and exhaled through her nose. ¡°I hope you all realize that I do not smell of sweat and orc internals. This is criminal.¡±


    Despite the comment not being that amusing, the break in tension had us all chuckle and completely melt with relief. We had done it. As the Natural Disasters practically burst out of the elevator on the ground floor, spirits were high¡ªone last burst of social energy keeping us active.


    [Hey, go on ahead outside. I¡¯ll be out in a second.]


    Roxy raised her eyebrow, but knew better than to question me. That, or she was just too exhausted to care. I watched the group of heros, Clara included, go out through the rotating doors and into the darkness. Some imagined warmth went along with them, and my eyes turned over to the side.


    ¡°Some special message to pass on?¡± Miguel asked, a quizzical look on his face.


    But I was looking over at the space on the right side of the room.


    [Business or pleasure?]


    After a moment of silence, the air shimmered, and Silhouette gradually appeared. He had his arms crossed, head tilted to the side in interest.


    ¡°As always, Gunquake,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s a bit of both when it concerns you.¡±

 101 - Hot and Ready

    Silhouette and I stood apart from each other in silence, while Miguel sat behind his desk with a confused look on his face.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just magical detection, is it?¡± The darkly dressed hero eventually said. ¡°I¡¯ve never had anyone spot me as easily as you can.¡±


    [Maybe I have a superpower the League isn¡¯t telling me about. Were you here specifically to spy on me, or do you generally spend your early mornings creeping about?]


    The yellow light of his singular eye on his mask flickered to signal his amusement. ¡°I try to show up when important things happen. You wouldn¡¯t believe what people think they can get away with if they don¡¯t believe anyone is watching.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure if he was trying to insinuate that he had watched us steal the mech and crystals, or was just being vaguely annoying. Unfortunately, I was way too tired for games¡ªand only a few steps away from trying to put a metal ball through his torso.


    [Likewise, I¡¯m sure those who think they are undetectable actually leave a lot of traces around.]


    He observed me for a few seconds, before shrugging. ¡°After watching your first trial, I was invested in seeing you succeed. Judging by the good spirits, it looks like things went your way.¡±


    [A habit that existence is unable to quit as of late.]


    ¡°Well, I hope that your lucky streak continues, friend.¡± He moved to walk past me, toward the elevator. ¡°Perhaps I¡¯ll see you out on the streets one day. Friendly competition isn¡¯t the worst thing¡ªonce you¡¯re set up, maybe we can even spar.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes as he went behind me, his footsteps silent, but I could still feel him keep moving away.


    [Perhaps I could even sing you a song.]


    Spinning on my heels, I turned and left the building without looking back. Sometimes you needed to shake the vending machine to see what fell out. Out into the darkness, I was almost immediately enveloped in a series of hugs.


    My friends and family.


    Before I could really crunch through these thoughts and feelings like heavy boots through snow, my life became a slideshow. Exhaustion hit me like a sledgehammer. Saying goodbye, getting in the van, driving home, making it into the house, and then I was in bed.


    I¡¯d earned us a few days'' reprieve, of which the group were super thankful of. I knew how to negotiate, and so did the League. We were too out of energy to argue the terms, really. With how loyal and close we had all become, I knew I just needed to show that I was fighting for their best interests and they¡¯d agree to the contract. Between that and the pay bump, they had few reservations about signing up, despite all that we had been through.


    There were celebrations to be had, I was sure, but other than hastily discarding our clothes so that we could dirty up the bed with immediate rest, Roxy and I didn¡¯t even share any words.


    Even with how I felt I could sleep for weeks, I still found my eyes opening while the sun was in the early stages of the day. It was unfair. Maddening.


    I was also partially confused as to why Clara was standing beside the bed, her hands on her hips.


    [Why are you here?]


    ¡°You were promised to me today, Gunquake. We have much to get through.¡± She brushed her dungarees down and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Your state of undress is convenient, although I would like it if you went and washed up first.¡±


    I groaned and turned my head to look at Roxy. The super had her eyes barely open, but they burned with ferocity.


    ¡°Do whatever she says,¡± she murmured. ¡°Wake me up again and I¡¯ll kill you both.¡±


    That was good enough motivation for me to exit the bed, despite feeling like a dried log. I rubbed at my head as I followed the techie out of the room and closed the door behind me very gently. Turning back to Clara, I could see now that she looked almost exhausted as I felt, even though she was brimming with some energized mania.


    [Did you even sleep last night?]


    ¡°No. I found something to busy myself with, Gunquake. It just so happened to take up until now for me to feel confident enough to proposition you.¡±


    My eyes drifted to the open bathroom. A long soak sounded delightful, no matter the cost. I might fall back asleep in a bath, however, so a shower might have to do.


    [Could you at least clue me in on what you¡¯re intending on doing with me?]


    She smiled. ¡°Of course, Gunquake.¡± Clara raised her hand and placed it on my bare chest. ¡°But I¡¯m sure you can take a good guess.¡±


    I could see that look in her cybernetic eyes. The apprehension and excitement in taking over while the super was out cold. Our new partnership as hero and sidekick. The evolution of her role beyond what the League knew.


    [You wish to perform invasive and extensive surgery on me in an attempt to increase my power.]


    The techie bit her lip. ¡°You know me too well, Gunquake. Although, you make it sound so salacious.¡± She removed her hand and stepped away. ¡°Get cleaned up and I¡¯ll tell you exactly what I want to do to you. You¡¯ll need to provide consent.¡±


    [I won¡¯t keep you waiting long.]


    And then I was alone and showering down. The whole superhero thing hadn¡¯t really sunk in yet. Gunquake. Part of the Natural Disasters. B-Rank super group with the side job of doing dirty work for the League. Even though it was a beginning, it also felt like an end. Having to deal with Boss and kill contracts felt like years ago. Another life.


    I cleaned and dried myself off. Put on some compression shorts and flexed at the mirror. I hadn¡¯t taken that much damage at the pyramid, but being up for almost a full day with all the stress and long driving had me just tired, through the fibers of my existence. I tried to imagine myself with a cybernetic arm instead of a shotgun. Manifesting.


    Next stop was the kitchen, where a chilled canister clicked into place and made me feel¡­ relaxed. Still aching, but better. I considered making Roxy breakfast in bed, but wasn¡¯t sure how long she¡¯d need before murder was off the table. Perhaps I should see how Clara wanted to mutilate me first.


    Off through the garden, across the cool grass, then the warm gravel between it and the workshop, and I was there at the doorway. The techie was already in an apron with a mask over her face, as if I had agreed already. She could tell that¡¯s exactly what I was thinking.


    ¡°Do not allow my eagerness to dictate your response, Gunquake.¡± She sat on a stool and patted the medical bed for me to sit.


    [I figured that we both knew I was so tired that I would probably consent to anything at this point.]


    ¡°True.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°And while that does give me some ideas, I¡¯d rather not try anything we would all regret.¡±


    [Not keen to join Roxy in going public?]


    I could see her face wrinkle up behind the mask. ¡°No, Gunquake. No matter how our relationship develops, I do not wish to be your girlfriend - nor would I want my personal matters forefront in the public eye.¡±


    [I¡¯m going to regret becoming a celebrity, aren¡¯t I?]


    ¡°I guarantee it, Gunquake. Shall we revert back to the matter at hand, before our exhaustion leads us further astray?¡±


    The question of whether a tired techie was the best hand for performing surgery disappeared once I realized how away from the point we were getting.


    [What¡¯s the procedure, doc?]


    ¡°I ran the crystals through the scanner last night.¡± She gestured over to the side counter where a couple of them lay. ¡°Good news is there¡¯s nothing corrupting or overly toxic about them. Fascinating, really. So I started breaking them apart, and you¡¯d never guess, but they retain their arcane energy storage capability, even when the structure has been split.¡±


    [You want to put something inside of me, don¡¯t you?]


    Clara hesitated slightly before rolling her eyes. ¡°I said to keep on task, Gunquake. I found that I could reduce the crystals down to a powder and they still retained charge, albeit not as powerful as the whole. Magic is amazing, isn¡¯t it? Now I want to infuse you with it.¡±


    [I see. You¡¯ve really come around to liking magic just like that?]


    ¡°It¡¯s like technology in some regards,¡± she looked up at the ceiling and cupped her chin in thought. ¡°If we can figure out in what way you are granted the magic spells you possess, we should be able to then reverse-engineer the process to give you new magical abilities.¡±


    Although a far departure from her usual view on these things, Clara being able to cultivate my magic alongside my tech sounded like the best of both worlds. Perhaps Belle could get involved to guide the process.


    ¡°You¡¯re thinking too loudly, Gunquake,¡± she then said, looking back at me. ¡°I¡¯ve already sent a message to Belle to work with us on this project. I¡¯ve also sent one to Ren for assistance in the growth of our compound, and the Captain has some old contacts that we might pry from him now that Snake is in jail.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    My mind briefly drifted to the prison break that was reported yesterday, before concern had me frown at the energetic techie.


    [Just how much caffeine have you had?]


    ¡°Ah.¡± She shrugged and stood to arrange some tools on the metal tray. ¡°I may have accidentally inhaled some of the powdered crystal during the process. While it has some energizing benefits and would be a nice mix into your canisters, as we have a finite amount of them, I didn¡¯t want to take the plunge just yet.¡±


    [So you¡¯re going to add that to my bloodstream?]


    ¡°No. Into your synapse connectors. I will also draw a syringe of it so that I can test for nanotech or what you might actually have in there.¡± She placed her hand on my leg. ¡°I will need to put you under, take your mask off, and cut open some of your chest. The results might not be as we expect, or worth the effort. Although you are my guinea pig, I wouldn¡¯t propose this unless I believed in the process and myself.¡±


    [It has to be right now?]


    Clara nodded eagerly. ¡°Flow state. I need to join all the dots before sleep wipes the board clean.¡±


    [Alright, I consent. At least I¡¯ll get some sleep from it.]


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit, Gunquake. Plus, if you die, then I¡¯ll have a few hours to run before Roxy wakes up.¡± She picked the scalpel up from the tray. ¡°Nope, I don¡¯t need this yet.¡± She put it back down.


    I was too tired to be worried, even if she didn''t seem exactly herself. She had earned enough trust in my short time with her that I didn¡¯t fear what she had planned. I shifted around on the bed and laid down.


    Clara appeared over me, now holding a syringe. ¡°Despite my earlier statement, I have a love for you that is disjointed from regular romantic notion. I trust you and feel safe around you. That is enough for me, Gunquake. I am also sticking you with this anesthesia as I tell you this to avoid furthering this conversation because I don''t have all my faculties at present.¡±


    I went to respond, but true to her word¡ªthe empty syringe appeared in her hand and I couldn¡¯t quite get the words to reach my vocalizer. I blinked slowly three times, the techie vanishing from my view to leave me with the plain ceiling, and that was it.


    My eyes then opened again, as if only a few seconds had passed, but I could tell it had been a few hours by the change in sunlight coming through the window. There was a slight ache in my chest and my muscles felt sluggish, but otherwise, I seemed to be living and fully functional. There was also a weight on my legs.


    I leaned my head up to look down, and saw Clara sitting on the chair, her head resting on my knee as she slept. No doubt after completing the procedure, the exhaustion finally caught up with her. With a sigh, I pushed myself up slowly, and then over the course of five painful minutes, I moved away without waking her up.


    Another task made ten times more awkward by having a gun-arm. I managed to lift her up over my left shoulder, my arm a seat. With my legs still shaky, I only almost dropped her onto the ground or through the garden furniture twice before making it into the house.


    Catching my breath in the lobby, I turned us both to see Roxy standing in the kitchen, spoon in hand. It looked like she¡¯d had some more sleep and gotten her own shower and now had an eyebrow raised. I realized this was probably an odd look for the pair of us.


    ¡°Not even going to guess,¡± the super said, gesturing with her eyes. ¡°Take the gremlin up to bed before you drop her.¡±


    Too awkward to ask for assistance, I did just that. The stairs were complicated and almost killed us both, but I survived and made it to Clara¡¯s room. A few cautious steps over to the bed, and I laid her down gently before pulling the covers up to her neck.


    ¡°Leaving me fully clothed?¡± she murmured, eyes closed. ¡°How disappointing.¡± Her brief smile faded away as she sunk back into a proper sleep.


    I rolled my eyes and made my way downstairs. Roxy was now digging through ice cream, and had gotten a new canister out for me.


    [It was just surgery. She had been up all night and fell asleep while I was out cold.]


    The super nodded and wiggled the spoon at me. ¡°I know. You don¡¯t have to reassure me. The list is one thing, but I actually talk to her about this kinda shit, you know.¡±


    Ignoring the fact that the list might actually be real, I raised my eyebrow.


    [She did say she loved me, in a non-romantic way.]


    ¡°Of course, dumbass. You stoke her passion for tech and invention. More than just her science project, you care and want the best for her¡ªand you follow through. If she wanted a partner, you¡¯d be perfect for her.¡±


    [I guess I can see why the League assumed she was the one I was dating.]


    Roxy shrugged and put her tub and spoon down. ¡°If anything, I¡¯m the lucky one because I get to have you, and Clara¡¯s needs are met as well.¡± She stepped over to me and put her arms around my waist.


    [She is really content enough like this?]


    Her burning eyes looked into mine. She still looked tired, and I assumed I probably did, too. ¡°She said there might be some benefit to you two boning to bring your symbiosis closer during dire times, but it¡¯s not on her agenda at present.¡±


    [Oh. I see.]


    ¡°Also, you¡¯re lucky, because if it was anyone but Clara sniffing around, I¡¯d break their heads clean off.¡± Roxy leaned forward and kissed my re-breather. ¡°And speaking of getting lucky, someone deserves a bubble bath. Then if you help me put clean bedding on, we¡¯ll get it dirty again.¡±


    [You had me at bubbles.]


    ¡°Dumbass.¡± She smiled and pulled me in for a hug. ¡°We have a lot of celebrating to do. I¡¯m inviting the gang over later this afternoon for food and booze. You got us the rest of the week off, so they¡¯ve got some ass kissing to do.¡±


    [Natural Disasters.]


    Maybe a little too on the nose, but sometimes being overt with it was for the best. Another kiss on my temple, and Roxy led me up to the bathroom.


    <hr>


    A light breeze ran through the garden as the pair of us moved back and forth on the garden swing. The super was nursing the first cocktail of the day, while we enjoyed the peace of being alone. Both still tired, but the bath had done us good.


    So far, the surgery didn¡¯t seem to have any effect. I felt no different. If it wasn¡¯t for the stitched line down my chest, I might have assumed Clara didn¡¯t do anything at all.


    ¡°How does it feel being a hero now?¡±


    I turned my eyes to Roxy, radiant as ever.


    [It''s clearly a hit with women, and I haven¡¯t had to lift a finger yet.]


    She rolled her eyes.


    [There¡¯s an odd feeling to it. As if¡­ there is a catch we aren¡¯t seeing yet. Despite sending the signed contracts off, it doesn¡¯t feel like an end of a chapter.]


    ¡°It¡¯s the start of one, though, huh? You¡¯ve gotten everything you wanted.¡±


    Looking at her, it was hard to argue that point. Everything I had wished for, and then strived toward, planned for¡­ I had gotten it. I put my arm around her and she rested her head against my shoulder. It would be a mistake to assume that today¡¯s win would be without the pendulum swinging back to something dire soon enough, but we¡¯d enjoy it while we could.


    We looked over to the side, surprised to see the techie emerge from the house so soon. It didn¡¯t look like she had changed, but had added a baseball cap which she wore tipped low to shield her eyes, shadowing most of her face.


    She stood near the swing, hands in her pockets. ¡°How are you feeling, Gunquake?¡±


    [As normal as can be, despite the circumstances.]


    ¡°Good, good.¡± She nodded. ¡°About what I said earlier¡­¡±


    [It¡¯s fine, I forgot everything due to the anesthesia.]


    She continued nodding, but a smile emerged from her shadowed face. ¡°Shame. Thanks for bedding me, Gunquake. I¡¯m going to go get a drink.¡±


    We watched as she turned and took herself back into the house.


    Roxy sighed and shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure for whose benefit the flirting is for anymore. Would have been nice to tell you if whatever she did worked or not.¡±


    [I have no doubt that it did. We¡¯ll probably need Belle to test, however.]


    ¡°The others will be here in an hour. Could I twist your arm into making us food?¡± She pressed her nose against my neck, running it up behind my ear.


    [It would be a pleasure. I¡¯ll need to go grocery shopping sometime to pick up the right things to cook you something special.]


    She kissed the side of my head before stopping the swing and standing up. ¡°When we¡¯re public, we can do a lot more than that. I¡¯m saving my date night ticket for when we can really go out together.¡± Roxy raised an eyebrow toward the house. ¡°Can¡¯t believe the gremlin wasted her designated time with you performing surgery. She really is a dork.¡±


    I stood up and joined her in making our way to the kitchen. The wounds across her face and arms had already healed up¡ªto the point at which they were only noticeable in certain lighting. Quicker regeneration than she was used to, we both knew. My aura putting in the work even if I didn¡¯t realize it. Her ego had recovered as well, and while we hadn¡¯t discussed or processed our fights from last night, her normal attitude had returned.


    Clara was already slumped over on the counter, a cup full of some clear spirits in her hand.


    ¡°You can go back to bed, hun,¡± Roxy said. ¡°I¡¯d rather you not be a miserable drunk for our celebrations.¡± She stepped over and pulled the hat from the techie¡¯s head.


    For eyes that couldn¡¯t cry, they were the saddest looking orbs of green and gray I¡¯d ever seen.


    ¡°I just wish they could see me now,¡± she managed, before falling into Roxy¡¯s hug.


    Part of me wanted to tell her that her family would be proud of her, but it wasn¡¯t really my place. They would be, of course¡ªshe had become not only a proficient technician, branching out to even things outside the scope the League would usually allow. Now she was also a sidekick to a superhero.


    Roxy talked her into having a bath, and they¡¯d pick a nice outfit out together for the garden party. As they walked past, I couldn¡¯t help but feel like an imposter.


    Ridiculous, at this stage. I¡¯d earned my place as their friend and found family¡ªI knew this. There was just a gap there that I couldn¡¯t fill. Her parents were never coming back, and that was a wound that would live within her. Something I couldn¡¯t heal or really relate to. They were all I had.


    I sighed and walked over to the fridge. If anything, it just made me angrier at the circumstances that led to her parents dying. The League was partially to blame; I was sure. The villain Red Dust destroying some of the suburbs in his fight against Angel would have been partly allowed by them, even if not outwardly arranged.


    Maybe there was some irony or hypocrisy in wanting vengeance over these two people I had never met, yet I had slain through plenty of people who, no doubt, had families of their own. I was¡­ no hero.


    I didn¡¯t realize I had just been staring into the fridge until Roxy came back into the room.


    ¡°Bless her,¡± she said. ¡°Being a sidekick really means a lot to her. She¡¯s over the moon, but sometimes heartache doesn¡¯t care about that.¡± The super lifted up the cup and sniffed the liquid within. ¡°Also, this is just water. Dork.¡±


    After I didn¡¯t respond, she stepped over and put her hands on my shoulders, giving me a brief massage. ¡°Alright, big guy. Open up.¡±


    [Am I a fraud?]


    She pressed her head against my back, and I felt the warmth of her sigh through my t-shirt. ¡°Not you as well. A fraud about what, Dubs?¡±


    I turned from the cold illumination of all the food awaiting selection, and looked her in the tired but concerned eyes.


    [They said it themselves. Heroes don¡¯t kill. Most of my life has been murder.]


    ¡°Motherfucker,¡± she said, pulling me closer. ¡°You¡¯ve watched me pull people literally apart. Am I not a hero?¡±


    [No, you are.]


    ¡°Then shut it. Don¡¯t let the fancy title blind you, Dubs.¡± She placed a finger on my re-breather as if she was shushing me. ¡°You know what you are. What we are. Our real goals. Nod if you understand.¡±


    [Are you¡­ hitting on me again?]


    She smiled and rolled her eyes. ¡°C¡¯mon, Dubs. They said your crimes are all wiped clean, so that means you have to do new ones. We¡¯ll be superheroes, and we¡¯ll be a kill-squad, but we truly only work for ourselves, right?¡±


    [To eventually break free of all this, do away with the League from having a say over us.]


    ¡°There we go. That¡¯s my cybernetic beefcake.¡± Roxy shot me a wink. ¡°Now, what are you going to feed the rest of your squadmates?¡±


    I had to admit she had a way with words. As much as she had awkwardly become part of my life, she had learned which buttons to press. Usually, whatever ones encouraged me to be a tool of destruction. In some ways, were the same in that regard. The League of Heroes had just restrained her behind some break in case of emergency glass. Now that I had set her free with my recklessness, we had become quite the dangerous duo.


    Any intention of telling her what I planned to cook didn¡¯t even make it out of my vocalizer, as we turned to the sound from upstairs.


    The light padding of wet feet rushed down the stairs, as Clara practically slid into the kitchen doorway. Towel barely wrapped around her and still dripping from the partially complete bath, she looked wide awake now.


    ¡°What the fuck, Clara?¡± Roxy asked. ¡°You okay?¡±


    ¡°Gunquake,¡± she gasped. ¡°The drive has completed the decryption process.¡±

 102 - Cold and Dry

    After getting chewed out by Roxy for both running around with wet feet, and for being unnecessarily underdressed, Clara slunk back upstairs. She had been excited¡ªand now I was super nervous¡ªbut it hadn¡¯t been life or death. Sprinting from the bath had been a little extreme.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised she even bothered with a towel,¡± Roxy murmured, as we stood out in the garden waiting for the techie.


    [It would probably neuter the strength of her message to shock us with that at the same time.]


    The look she gave me signaled that she wasn¡¯t looking for an answer to the statement. Although her original annoyance had been due to the danger of the techie slipping and breaking her head open on the stairs, it had now switched to something else. Roxy disliked the fact that a new drama had cropped up in the midst of us celebrating our biggest win yet.


    I didn¡¯t exactly blame her. Now I was on edge. Half ready to be disappointed by whatever Boss had left for me, half expecting it to be something huge. Also annoyed that the other three were picking up food along the way rather than me cooking.


    Roxy¡¯s glare softened as Clara made her way out of the house. Now dried properly, she was wearing a black t-shirt with a skull on it, and a red pleated skirt. ¡°How do you feel about that outfit?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s not very conductive to my normal workshop duties.¡± The techie paused and crossed her arms. ¡°So, awkward, but cautiously accepting.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ you¡¯re meant to have something on your feet, dork.¡± Roxy rolled her eyes at her bare feet. ¡°You got shorts on under that, yeah?¡±


    ¡°As per your recommendation, sister.¡±


    ¡°Great. We¡¯ve already seen enough of you today and if you¡¯re drinking later, I don¡¯t need you flashing everyone.¡± She grinned.


    Clara wrinkled up her face and crossed her arms even tighter. ¡°Have you seen too much of me, Gunquake?¡±


    [You look cute, this is all very wonderful. If I don¡¯t find out what is on that drive in the next ten seconds, I will literally explode.]


    The techie opened her mouth and then closed it. Instead, she gestured toward the workshop.


    ¡°I think you flustered her,¡± Roxy murmured as we turned to walk over, a wry smile on her face.


    I didn¡¯t have the capacity to respond or engage. My heart was working overdrive, as I couldn¡¯t truly grasp as to what could be on the drive.


    Into the room, Clara pushed past to sit at the computer. I stood behind her, with Roxy slightly behind, ready to support whatever happened.


    [If this is just a location or another treasure hunt, I will literally find Boss and beat him to death.]


    ¡°We will see.¡± Clara clicked through the final pass-over of her software as it compiled the data to be read. ¡°My expectations are low. I could beat someone up, however.¡±


    Roxy bit back a retort to that, although that was maybe me filling in the silence with my own thoughts. We stood in this brief quietness as the computer loaded things up. It was agonizing, but the lack of fanfare helped my panic calm into something that was just more¡­ nerves.


    ¡°Okay, here it is.¡± The techie clicked a button.


    A black screen popped up. Fuzzy at first, before it focused. Illegible text appeared, blinking before running through as a long line down the side of the left screen.


    ¡°It¡¯s a video,¡± Clara said, before it came into view.


    A rectangular box appeared on the screen, a shadowed figure in the middle where light only barely touched the side of their features. Even before he spoke, I could take a guess at this being Boss.


    >Agent W. I honestly don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll ever get this message¡­ but you are resourceful. If you¡¯re hearing me now, then I guess my worries are for nothing. Should you be anyone but Agent W who has found and decrypted this disc, then I hope you¡¯ve killed him, otherwise your days are numbered.


    >I don¡¯t even know if I am dead at this point. Depending on how long it has taken you to get this message, I am either far away or something has caught up to me. It¡¯s only what I deserve, after all. And as for what you deserve?


    The image of the man''s shadowed face flickered as he nodded to himself.


    >Some manner of truth. It¡¯s the least I owe you after all these years. But where to begin?


    >By now, you should have followed enough breadcrumbs to know what you used to be. A mercenary for hire, working for the World Government to track down supers unaffiliated with the League. If any of that information is new to you, then you¡¯d best take a seat.


    >Then again, you always were the one who could bounce back from anything. When I found you dying amongst the corpses of your brothers¡­


    The face looked down and shook his head slightly.


    >You may wonder why I feel guilt or have a stake in your near demise. Probably there¡¯s some anger within you over my treatment of you. That¡¯s all fair. I am a terrible person because¡­


    >Well, because I am the one who created you. The first you¡ªall ten of you, in fact.


    I had been so hyper-focused on the screen and talking man than Roxy¡¯s hand on my shoulder caused a ripple of shocked adrenaline to run through me. I felt nauseas and disjointed from reality.


    >Many moons ago, the World Government picked me up. A prodigy when it came to genetics and the like. They wanted to grow soldiers in a lab. I told them¡ªmorality aside¡ªthat the scale they were after wasn¡¯t feasible. They didn¡¯t want clones, but real thinking and doing people.


    >After a few threats over my family¡¯s safety, I finally came around to their terms. It would just be ten of these soldiers, and they wanted them powered to the gills. Quality over quantity.


    Boss sighed and rubbed at his forehead, the dim light picking up the flecks of gray in his short hair.


    >I am the scientist Dr. Julian Green. A name that probably means nothing to you, as the Government pushed me out of the picture as soon as they could. I became a nobody, and my time with you and the others slowly filtered out. Their mistake was thinking they could control you all. That you were all just tools of war.


    >It wasn¡¯t until I had received an emergency alert from someone in the squad¡­ that I gathered the strength to insert myself back into the situation. That was when I found you. Things had devolved to a point where most of you had been killed. I¡¯ve spent¡­ years trying to find out what happened. Who was to blame? Was it infighting? Or the World Government finally having enough of you? Maybe even a third party?


    >In the end, it was myself I blamed the most. I am far from being a father, but I saw you as one of my own children. The life I had given you of violence was terrible, but it was then the only way to keep you safe. The Government would want to tie up loose ends and kill you if they ever found you.


    >My methods were cruel, but everything I have done is to keep you alive. The removal of your voice, changing your face, training you to kill, and to stand on your own two feet¡­ your gun-arm is something they wouldn¡¯t be able to track or expect. I even made an arrangement with the League of Heroes to allow you the space to grow, in the hopes that you could be a weapon they could use against the World Government.


    >Was that my overarching agenda? No¡­


    >Despite it all, I am not seeking revenge. Nothing noble or just. I am just a selfish and foolish old man who wanted to save something he made. Try to do a little right for you. In truth, it is up to you what you decide to do with your life now. If you are listening to this, then it means I have finally pushed you out of the nest, and it is your own time to fly.


    >You may wonder why I am not naming more names, or filling in certain gaps in your memories. Perhaps you want the past to remain as such, and in my silence, I am providing you with closure. You were always a smart one, Agent W. Answers will come to you should you desire them.


    >I offer you no apology, because there isn¡¯t one strong or valid enough to erase any of the misdeeds I have forced upon you. Even as I shuffle off into the shadows or an early grave, I am still stubborn and egotistical.


    >If you are not living the life you want, then reach out and take it. Become a tool of your own desires.


    The man in the video gave another brief nod before the image froze and vanished away.


    Silence filled the workshop, as Clara turned in her chair and the super maintained a grip on my shoulder. Neither was really willing to prompt my thoughts in the hopes that I¡¯d give them willingly.


    The trouble was, I wasn¡¯t exactly sure how to react.


    Revealing Boss had been my pseudo-father all this time and was responsible for both of my lives seemed¡­


    I looked at the two women, patiently expecting something from me.


    [Give me a few minutes alone to process.]


    Rather than wait for them to leave, I moved away and left the workshop. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure why, but I walked down the garden to when my old shack had been. Pulled back the tarp covering the open coffin, and sat on the edge with my feet in it.


    We had long removed the bones of my arm and had them stored away just in case they¡¯d be useful, so the empty grave was rather plain and unassuming. I still felt it might ground my mind, after having spent so much time living and healing here.


    I closed my eyes and exhaled, trying to filter my thoughts into some order.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    When I had refused to kill Roy and Boss had blown up at me, that was when he knew I could fly with my own wings. It had felt put on, but there must have been some real anger behind his reaction. Whether that was at himself or me, it didn¡¯t really matter. It was overly emotional because he was trying to save me. Once he had, he had to run from me for good.


    Dr. Green had created super soldiers. The World Government had misused them and they fell apart. Dr. Green turned into Boss, giving me a second chance at life. It wasn¡¯t that easy or simple. Nothing quite as benevolent. I had been mutilated and put back together in odd ways so that I might have more of a fighting chance.


    It was hard to hate him for it. He wasn¡¯t worth the emotional energy. It was just now, I almost hated myself. Felt less human and more of a construct. A tool fashioned into a worse tool. What life did I really have outside of this sick fate I never asked for?


    My eyes blinked away these thoughts as Roxy sat beside my left, her hand finding mine. Clara appeared to my right, sitting and putting her arms around my shotgun.


    A tangible reminder that I was my own person now. I carried the baggage of Dr. Green¡¯s folly. Bore the scars of the World Government¡¯s mistakes. My life shadowed by the roles people had long decided for me. But it was my choice to join the League. Despite the flaws and danger spiraling around me, I was making a life for myself where I was in control. Even if I was a tool, I was utilizing those skills to fashion my own future.


    ¡°I was hoping he would tell us about the other three still living,¡± Clara said, her head resting against my arm.


    [I¡¯m pretty sure I know who one is. I don¡¯t know if they know, however.]


    Nor if they were the one allied to me, or opposed to me. I could be wrong about Silhouette, but my guts had little else to do but have correct feelings about things. Until I knew more about the super, I¡¯d keep him at arm¡¯s length.


    ¡°Weak ass for not telling you this in person,¡± Roxy grumbled. ¡°You deserve better.¡±


    My eyes were on the city. Lights dotted amongst the many buildings as late afternoon was turning to dusk. Sitting here in my heavily defended outpost, close to two people who accepted and loved me for who I was, it was hard to really agree with her. I had much more than I deserved. That didn¡¯t mean I was fully content, however. Just that I was on the right path.


    We sat in silence, the time for the rest of our team to arrive ticking closer. After the exhausting day yesterday, I was once again just totally drained. The message from Boss had solidified some things I had long suspected, but it wasn¡¯t world changing. Some¡­ needed closure, at least. He had handed me the reins, and it was up to me to make use of the mess he had made of me.


    ¡°Is there anything we can do, Gunquake?¡± Clara moved away to look up at me.


    [Could you buy me some more grenades?]


    Roxy sighed. ¡°Motherfucker, just wait for League outfitting. You¡¯ll be shitting out new tech once they call you in.¡±


    ¡°Probably not literally,¡± the techie clarified. ¡°Although, I do have notes¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t even. Any modifications now have to go through my approval as well. Both as the team leader, and his official partner.¡±


    Clara clicked her tongue. ¡°Power hungry already, sister. Perhaps I need to go even more public with Gunquake to override you.¡±


    ¡°Bitch, you don¡¯t even have the guts to-¡±


    [You know what I truly want?]


    The two paused their bickering as I spoke, and I raised my gun-arm out of Clara¡¯s grip.


    [I want a new arm. Something that can shoot, but also has a hand. If I have to be a cyborg, then I want to be built different. The most efficient I can be. I want the best technology available, whatever it takes to get it.]


    ¡°Hybrid arms are¡­¡± the techie trailed off, her eyes looking around as if recalling screens of information. ¡°Originally, the time I wanted to spend with you was¡­ well, no¡­ it¡¯s just ideas and probably foolish¡­ I shouldn¡¯t have said¡­¡±


    ¡°Spit it out already, Clara.¡± Roxy frowned.


    She took a deep breath. ¡°For a long time, your synapse integration has been the bottleneck. It¡¯s just too ingrained for a new arm to be swapped easily. Beyond my level. With the growth of your magical power¡­ well, I¡¯ve heard rumor of an artefact out in the wastes.¡±


    [Something that could assist in replacing my arm?]


    Clara nodded. ¡°But it might be a dead end, and we just had a long vacation to the wastes.¡±


    This was probably what was playing on her mind before we left yesterday. Appetite for more wasteland trouble would be low, of that I was sure. She had dangled that golden carrot in front of me, however. A better arm. Even if it was only a low chance that the artefact was out there¡­ I wanted in.


    [Let¡¯s get back to celebrating tonight, and then I want all the details.]


    ¡°As you wish, Gunquake.¡±


    Roxy gave my hand a squeeze. ¡°Say the word and I¡¯m in. You can always count on me.¡±


    [Thank you. Both of you. I am thankful to have you both in my life.]


    Clara grinned and pushed herself back up to standing. ¡°You say that now, Gunquake, but I¡¯m putting you both to work tomorrow. Time is limited and my thirst is unquenchable.¡±


    I ignored whatever Roxy murmured to herself and raised an eyebrow at the techie.


    [Our workshop guest?]


    She returned a nod. ¡°We need to weaponise it as soon as possible. We have a foundry and a woman who can turn into molten rock. I¡¯m not keen to dispel any of the runes until we understand them, but it might be a part of the process to work the metal.¡±


    [Oh, is this related to what you want to do with the artefact?]


    A sly grin went across her face, and she bent over so her mouth was near my ear. ¡°Only the best bespoke cybernetics for my murder-machine superhero.¡±


    I shivered, before warming up thanks to the tangible disdain radiating from Roxy.


    [Alright, enough trying to cheer me up. Somebody make me a drink before the others arrive.]


    They left me to go do just that, and I had one last look out at the horizon before I stood myself back up. Despite earning us a handful of days off, things were going to be busier than ever.


    Not content to just sit and feel proud of our progress, we were hungry for more. I could be so much stronger. Roxy needed more time to get used to her powers. The rest of the squad needed finessing into their roles. It was early days for what was my third restart.


    Bard was dead. Agent W was dead. Gunquake lived to excel and take what existence owed him.


    Tonight, that just meant enjoying the company of the friends I had made.


    They arrived in their regular fashion and from then on, the drippings of Boss''s message and the cold reality of my prior life completely melted away. Forgotten and unimportant. I received hugs as soon as the others got here, all smiles. Not just accepted for who I was, but lauded, even.


    The first cheers of the evening were for me getting them five days off of work. While superheroes had a generous schedule compared to many in the city, being without any work at all to do was still something they appreciated. Especially after the rough night that we had.


    Second cheers were to the team. Official and in the running to climb up the ladder. Chatter emerged about their potential new outfits and style once the League sorted the Natural Disasters theme out. Darker clothing options seemed to be commonly agreed, as well as more dramatic makeup tones. Thankfully, the League had all but decided I fit into the ¡®vigilante¡¯ team as I was. Which was great, as I was happy with black and dark green.


    Third cheers went to Roxy, our leader. While she tried to play it down, I could tell she was adoring the rise to infamy once more. The attempts to prop her up devolved into squabbling as Roy had said something the others took immediate issue with, but it was all lighthearted. People who knew each other well and could give each other shit.


    There were no fourth cheers, as by that amount of alcohol, things had devolved to telling stories around a campfire. Loud and exaggerated. I mostly tuned them out. Not because I didn¡¯t care to hear them, but I just felt like absorbing the moment. Aside from the time Roxy almost put her fist straight through my chest, this was the warmest I¡¯d ever felt. Partially due to the alcohol, sure, which I was half certain Clara had spiked with crystal dust.


    As the group segmented off into different conversations, I went off to the side to sit on a garden chair and look out at the darkness. Just cooling down a little. I turned my head to see that Belle had joined me. She had on another poncho. This time it was a bright pink that almost matched her hair. In her hand was a liter bottle of rum, about eighty percent gone.


    ¡°Elephant in the room,¡± she said, sitting on the chair beside me, ¡°but I can tell you¡¯re different tonight, Dubs.¡±


    [Oh? I just found out that I have daddy issues.]


    She narrowed her eyes and smiled. ¡°I don¡¯t doubt it, but you know that¡¯s not what I mean. You have¡­ crystals inside you, right?¡±


    [Clara infused my synapses tubes with powdered crystal.]


    ¡°Shiiiit.¡± Our shielder took a swig of rum. ¡°What¡¯s a gal got to do to get herself a Clara?¡±


    ¡°Just ask nicely!¡± Clara said, appearing from who knows the fuck where. Maybe I had been drinking a little too much. The techie sat down on my knee, spilling some of her drink onto the grass. ¡°Although I wouldn¡¯t put it inside you, Belle. I¡¯m working on an external option.¡±


    ¡°I was hoping that I wouldn¡¯t be left out of the fun.¡±


    ¡°No, no.¡± Clara nodded eagerly at the hero, before turning to me and giving me a nod as well. ¡°While I am Gunquake¡¯s sidekick, I will provide tech and other services to the team. I have to fix the Captain¡¯s fist¡­ weapon¡­¡± she murmured, trailing off as she glared across to the fireplace where Roy was once again the butt of the joke.


    Belle cleared her throat. ¡°So what does it do? For Gunquake?¡±


    The techie turned back to look at me, her cybernetic eyes unblinking. ¡°Gunquake,¡± she repeated. ¡°Oh. I didn¡¯t realize I was sitting on you. It allows him to cast spells two or three times without pain. Regenerates slower than the full¡­ package.¡±


    [So there¡¯s no downsides, I can¡¯t overload and explode my brain?]


    ¡°No, Gunquake.¡± Clara pulled a face. ¡°Demonstration time? Here, shield me. I''ve always wondered how it feels.¡±


    I watched as she hopped down off of my knee and moved over the grass¡ªonly wavering slightly before turning to face us. Probably the goofiest looking grin on her face I¡¯d ever seen on her. She¡¯d already tripped up the wooden porch and scraped her knee earlier, earning a scowl from ''mother hen'' - which were entirely her words and not mine, I had assured Roxy.


    Belle held out her hand, draining the bottle up at her mouth empty as she cast her shielding on the techie.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Clara said, looking at her hands and spilling more of her drink. ¡°Now Gunquake.¡±


    I held up my hand, and the shield was erased. Maybe it was again the alcohol, but other than a warmth radiating up my neck¡­ that felt effortless and smooth.


    Belle whistled. ¡°Impressive. That¡¯s a really good cast. Decent strength to it. You should be able to dispel most standard power spells with that, and won¡¯t be countered by many in the city.¡±


    [I thought you had to be touching me to tell?]


    She gave me a sly smile. ¡°Seems I¡¯d have to get in line for that, I think.¡±


    Before I could respond, Clara was already back, parking herself on my knee again. Either alcohol made her much quicker, or my senses were dulled from the revelry.


    ¡°Excellenty, Dubquake,¡± she slurred. ¡°I was tempted to give you a double dose, but I can always cut you open some other time, as long as you promise to bed me again.¡±


    ¡°No judgements here,¡± Belle said, an eyebrow raised, ¡°but are you and Clara¡­?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Roxy interrupted, appearing off to the side. ¡°Gremlin won¡¯t even kiss him. All talk.¡±


    Clara gasped, scowling up at her. ¡°I will too, watch.¡±


    She made an attempt; her face looming toward me, but her balance was terrible. As she realized that she was holding something and couldn''t lean forward, she slipped from my knee, twisted around and ended up landing flat on her face in the grass. The last of her drink sunk away into the soil as she groaned.


    ¡°Damn it, Clara.¡± Roxy sighed. ¡°Why does it always end like this? You¡¯re like a broken record.¡± She picked her up from the ground and carried her off to the house to sober up, like she was a mischievous racoon being reprimanded.


    [She is going to be embarrassed in the morning.]


    Belle shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s always the oddest people who work best together. Not that there¡¯s really a normal superhero, of course, but¡­¡± she sighed and lifted up her empty bottle. ¡°It¡¯s bullshit I¡¯m this far in, and I¡¯m still catching up to the rest of you.¡±


    [I¡¯m glad none of you are normal.]


    We went and joined the others, and then a few minutes later Roxy came back from the house and sat as well.


    Roy was leaned back in his chair, sunglasses down over his eyes. ¡°They didn¡¯t give you your Rank yet, Dubs?¡±


    [No. I assume they will do so when I go in for my meeting.]


    Roxy yawned and rubbed at the side of her short hair. ¡°I hope it¡¯s not tomorrow, then.¡±


    Ren narrowed her eyes. ¡°Why? What are you doing tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°Nothing! Not anything you need to know.¡±


    [You could have just said resting.]


    The murmurs from the gathered group told me that was more unbelievable than Roxy¡¯s hastily expelled attempt to wave them away.


    ¡°Alright, dicks,¡± she said, rolling her eyes. ¡°We have a little personal quest to run out in the wastes.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m in.¡± The Captain lifted up his shades to look between us.


    Ren nodded. ¡°Yeah, you need us? I¡¯ll take any excuse to get some practice in.¡±


    [I¡¯m not sure what exactly it entails. All I know is that it¡¯s a rumor of an artefact that we might be able to use to get me a better arm.]


    ¡°Fuck yeah, then,¡± Belle said, raising her bottle. ¡°If His will allows it, let¡¯s do it.¡±


    [It is up to our leader, of course.]


    Roxy was sitting with her face screwed up. It was supposed to be just the three of us on a secret jaunt out to dig around for questionable treasure. We¡¯d gone from a loose collection of burned out heroes to a proper squad that was willing to engage in unknown danger just because it was us. She hadn¡¯t been expecting it, and I knew, because I hadn¡¯t either.


    ¡°I¡¯ll gather intel and determine the threat when everyone has clearer heads,¡± she said diplomatically. ¡°But I¡¯d love to kick the shit out of things beside you assholes again. Always.¡±


    We raised our drinks in a cheer¡ªalthough I just tapped my canister¡ªand the decision was all but made.


    As the embers of the fire spun up into the dark of the night¡¯s sky, internally I smiled. Felt calmer than I had for a long time. After the message from Boss and the reconvening of our group, I felt a lot better about my place in this world.


    This was truly the end of a chapter.

 103 - The List

    The next chapter of my life started a lot sooner than I had expected, with my tired eyes opening while it was still dark out.


    Two dim points of green hovered at my side, and it took my brain a good few moments to recognize that they belonged to Clara. As I tried to focus on the techie looming at my side of the bed once more, my groggy eyes adjusted to the low light to see that she was in her underwear and had an axe rested across her shoulders.


    Before I had the chance to ask her what was going on, she gestured with her finger for me to follow her. I weighed up the downsides of waking Roxy up against the potential reality that Clara might want to hack off my other arm to make that cybernetic as well. As silently as I could, I slipped out from under the covers.


    The revelry and drunken vibes were clearly still swirling around in my head, the last dregs circling the drain. Adding to being woken half through a much needed rest, I was almost willing to let her hack me up if she was quick.


    I closed the door very quietly, managing to escape the potential wrath of the super. Turning, I raised an eyebrow at the pensive techie as she stood by the bathroom, the moonlight barely illuminating half of her body.


    ¡°There is a downside to ingesting the crystal dust,¡± she whispered. ¡°A side effect.¡±


    As much as I had a few ideas of what that could be, I just slowly nodded. She could fill in the gaps at her own pace, as long as she didn¡¯t use the axe to do so.


    ¡°Insomnia, for one.¡± She pulled a face and looked down at the lobby. ¡°Also, projectile vomiting.¡±


    [Ah. So why did you wake me? Are you okay?]


    ¡°You¡­ always fix things,¡± she said, an out of character pout across her face. ¡°And this mop isn¡¯t working.¡±


    [That¡¯s because it is an axe.]


    I didn¡¯t even know that we had one, nor for what purpose we¡¯d need one. The fact that she¡¯d been trying to use it to wipe up her vomit said a lot more about her current mental state than her lack of clothing.


    ¡°That would explain the cuts then,¡± she whispered. Clara turned around, and even in the dim light, I could see a few slim lines across her shoulders and lower back.


    I exhaled through my nose. Stepping over to her, I put my hand on her shoulder.


    [Fine, I will help. How bad is it?]


    ¡°It¡¯s just in the lobby.¡± She stepped away and started down the stairs. ¡°Seven times.¡±


    We reached the bottom stair, and she tapped the side of her head with a finger, causing an eye to turn into a flashlight. The white glare of her vision brought into view something of a hellscape. The entire lobby was covered with a slick amount of her sickness, several light grooves worn into the lacquered wooden planks where she had tried to use the axe to clean this up.


    I said nothing, but sighed and walked through it. Into the kitchen, the closet there holding a bucket and a real mop. I had seen enough blood, guts, and gore in my time to where it didn¡¯t really bother me. My re-breather helped cut out any nauseating smell from the mess. I was just¡­ tired. Still half asleep. Eager to get back into bed.


    Over to the sink and I filled the bucket with hot water and whatever soapy stuff was closest. It all worked the same, I was sure. Once it was full and bubbly, I placed it down at the edge of the kitchen, dunked the mop in and started to sweep away. Awkward movements with the single arm, but the processes had started, and that was easy enough for my brain to accept.


    Clara stood and watched, the axe still resting across her shoulders like she was an adventurer in training. It probably wasn¡¯t good for either of us to be walking on the vomit in our bare feet, but as she wasn¡¯t making this task any worse, I let her be.


    Given that most of the light was only where she was looking, I did have to glance at her a few times when she got distracted and looked away, or was clearly starting a little too intently at my figure, blinding me.


    About the time I reckoned I was about halfway through, the lobby light turned on.


    Both of us froze like animals caught in headlights, before we both turned to look up on the landing above the lobby.


    Roxy was standing there in her black nightgown, arms folded on the bannister, and a tired expression on her face.


    Expecting some pointed words to come our way, I was surprised as she started to smile - before bursting out laughing. Clara didn¡¯t seem too pleased, and placed the axe resting against the side wall so that she could cross her arms, while I just remained nonplussed and ever so tired.


    ¡°Gods damn it,¡± the super eventually said, wiping the tears from her eyes as she sighed. ¡°You know, my parents hoped I¡¯d end up with a rich landowner, or at least a well-to-do city worker. But instead, I have you degenerates.¡± The barb was delivered from a face still smiling widely.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see the humor in it,¡± Clara replied, grimacing.


    Roxy shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s three in the fucking morning and you two weirdoes are in your underwear doing the least sexy thing I can imagine. Clara, you have an axe for shit¡¯s sake, and Dubs, babe, you¡¯re not rinsing out the mop, so you¡¯re just spreading vomit everywhere. It smells like something died in here. Several things.¡±


    [You¡¯re in remarkably good spirits, despite the fact.]


    ¡°Yeah, well.¡± She gave me a soft smile, shaking her head again. ¡°It¡¯s the fact that you¡¯re both in this situation that is both bizarre, but so totally you. You may be geniuses in your respective crafts, but otherwise, you¡¯re both more of a dumbass than me. You are both literally half naked and are spending your time doing this. I don¡¯t know why I was ever threatened by your flirting.¡±


    Clara shrugged. ¡°The night is still young. Perhaps if you think we aren¡¯t doing this right, we can share the bed long term.¡±


    ¡°No, fuck off.¡± Roxy gestured to the bathroom with her head. ¡°Get cleaned up and put some clothes on, you dork. Then sleep in your own room.¡± She turned her fiery eyes to me. ¡°I¡¯ll show you how it''s done, Dubs, but then you owe me. You both do.¡±


    We grumbled our acknowledgements and apologies. Clara went to bed, while the super and I cleaned up properly. She told me a story about cleaning out animal stables back on the farm her parent¡¯s own, but other than that, we didn¡¯t really discuss anything. Too tired. We shared a kiss before bed and then almost immediately passed out.


    I chose to view that as more of an interlude. Some filler before my life as Gunquake started proper. Partially because by the time I woke up, it felt almost like a dream. It was certainly odd enough, and I wasn¡¯t sure yet what lesson to take away from it other than Clara should probably not drink as much.


    The warm arm of the super ran across my chest as she pulled herself up against me.


    [You know, it¡¯s nice not having Clara looming over me when I wake up for a change.]


    ¡°I¡¯ll get a lock for the door, don¡¯t worry.¡± She kissed my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m not letting her live down last night¡¯s activities.¡±


    [Ah. I was worried that did actually happen.]


    ¡°She acts like such a dork sometimes, especially when drunk. No brain-cells to share between the two of you, but it¡¯s nice to see her comfortable.¡± Roxy pushed herself up to look down at me. ¡°What did you learn from last night?¡±


    [To¡­ rinse the mop?]


    ¡°Exactly.¡± She pressed a finger into my chest and warmed it up. Not enough to be painful, just hot enough to make a point. ¡°Our garden party was that rinse. If we go into the wastes with our mop again today, we¡¯ll need to rinse it out again soon.¡±


    [No burning out.]


    ¡°If you burn my mop, I¡¯ll break the handle off in your ass.¡± The super leaned forward, laying atop me so her eyes were hovering over mine. ¡°We have to hold each other accountable going forward. Call me out on my shit and I will yours. Help me beat the team into a better shape. Never break my heart.¡±


    [That last one seems a little out of place and sudden.]


    She gave me a quick peck on the re-breather before pouting. ¡°You¡¯re about to be in the public eye. There will be fan-clubs, and detractors. Bitchy fucking nerds either slobbering over you or picking at any minor flaw, real or imagined.¡± Roxy sighed. ¡°My last relationship was a shitter, so when we go public there will be talk. Apologies in advance.¡±


    [Online discourse means little to me. If anyone talks shit to us in person, I¡¯ll break their jaw.]


    ¡°Cute.¡± She bit her lip before moving off of me. ¡°I know you¡¯d actually do it, too. Even if the League is giving us a looser leash, you shouldn¡¯t rock the boat too hard. Not within the city.¡±


    [Let¡¯s talk about how we are avoiding their reach today to work on tech that we stole from under their nose, as well as taking the team back out treasure hunting in the wastes.]


    ¡°Let¡¯s fucking eat,¡± she countered. ¡°If you get too big for your boots, Dubs, it won¡¯t be me pulling your legs off.¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Maybe she had a point. Most saw the wastelands as dangerous because of the monsters and mutants out there. The truth was being outside of the League¡¯s purview meant we would solely be in no-man''s-land. Somewhere that the World Government would be able to find us, no backup under the umbrella of Goldarch.


    The super pulled her dressing gown on and tightened the belt. ¡°League usually recalls old suits. It will be a shame to get rid of what I¡¯ve been using for so long. End of an era.¡±


    [You could always report one as ¡®destroyed¡¯ and keep it.]


    ¡°Already two steps ahead of you, babe.¡± She shot me a wink. ¡°Hard part is deciding what I want the new one to look like. It would be nice to go without the padding bullshit the League wants, and I do like showing off that I¡¯m built like a fucking truck.¡±


    [That¡¯s quite an interesting pet name.]


    She rolled her eyes and smiled. ¡°All my energy today is going toward putting our new buildings together and then whatever doom the wastes has for us. If you want to distract me from that, cooking some breakfast would be a good start.¡±


    [I could certainly eat.]


    Roxy left the room with a smile, perhaps not seeing the irony in my statement. Maybe she took it as innuendo. I was just ravenous for my new future, something finally in grasp.


    After she left, I emerged from the bed and put on my undershirt and tactical pants. Didn¡¯t need to get fully suited up just yet, but I also didn¡¯t want to play things casual with how the day might play out.


    Now onto the landing, and I could hear the shower running. Clara¡¯s room was closed, and I hoped she managed to recover from the come-down of the crystal dust fine. Stepping down into the clean lobby, I took a glance at the kitchen before deciding I wanted a bit of fresh air first. After the aches earned over the last few days, stretching my legs out without being under duress would be nice.


    I walked outside and was surprised to see Clara up and active already. Dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt with a pair of her work dungarees over, her eyes were focused on a notepad in her lap.


    [Good morning.]


    ¡°Morning, Gunquake.¡± She didn''t look up at me when she spoke, but after a few moments of silence, she glanced my way. ¡°If you''re wondering if I regret any of last night, then no. I was peak Clara, and will make no apologies for it.¡±


    [That sounds reasonable.]


    ¡°Although...¡± The techie sighed and patted the side of the bench swing for me to sit. "I am saddened that Rockslide is no longer affected by our flirting after last night. It was too pedestrian. She knows that despite how I present myself, I have no real appetite for us to have a physical relationship."


    I sat down beside her and she put a hand on my gun-arm, a glum expression on her face. She''d been given every opportunity to start something if she had wished to, but in finding us scrubbing up sick instead of doing anything more intimate, the super had seen the cold light exposing the truth behind Clara¡¯s constant insinuations.


    ¡°You want to know what the list says, Gunquake?¡± She raised an eyebrow before looking out at the workshop. ¡°That I could do anything with you. Anything. She had been calling my bluff all this time, knowing that neither you nor I would risk hurting her.¡±


    [She is cleverer than she looks. There''s no need for our relationship to be physical, though.]


    ¡°At that point, you''re just a friend, then. Closer to a big brother.¡±


    [If you''re happy, then there isn''t a need to put a label on things.]


    Clara sighed and turned her head back to me. ¡°You''re a bastard for being so understanding, Gunquake. Sometimes I just feel so abnormal. I envy what you and my sister have, even if it''s not what I desire for myself. I was staring at you last night, not because I was admiring your abs or imagining you pressed against me, but instead thinking of ways in which I could modify and upgrade you.¡± She shook her head, disappointed in herself.


    [Here.]


    I lifted my gun-arm out of her grip and put it over her, around her other side so I could pull her against me like a hug.


    [You''re ridiculous, you know. I wouldn''t have you any other way, and I''m here for you in whatever capacity you require. My love for you may be different that what I have with Roxy, but you''re no less important to me.]


    The techie didn''t respond at first, but after a few moments of contemplation, she gripped onto my shirt. Pulling herself up out of my grasp slowly, she planted a soft kiss on the side of my re-breather before sinking back down.


    ¡°Rockslide is totally unprepared for phase two,¡± she murmured, unable to hide the sly smile and slight blush from me.


    It was hard not to see her as my best friend¡ªeven beyond that¡ªafter all we had been through. The level of trust and comfort between us was part of what made us a good duo, after all. Symbiosis. She was a part of me in a very real way more than a sibling or friend, and whatever form that took was fine by me.


    [Want some toast? I¡¯m about to cook and I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll need the energy.]


    Clara shook her head. ¡°Already half a loaf down this morning. Another side effect of the crystals is the increased appetite. Oh, so actually, yes, please. Double rations for me.¡±


    [Consider it done. What are you reading?]


    I removed my arm from around her so that she could get at the notepad once again. It was a mix of scribbled notes and pages of printed out articles or clippings from books.


    ¡°Research on magic runes. Unfortunately, it is more complicated than just reproducing the process of engraving them.¡± She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s like a circuit board, but there¡¯s more to it than just wires and electricity. There are elements of intent and intangible energies that aren¡¯t easy for me to replicate.¡±


    [You¡¯ve really taken to this. When did you even have the time to prepare all that?]


    ¡°I try to stay a step or two ahead of you at all times,¡± she said with a smile. ¡°Which is difficult as your legs are longer.¡±


    We turned as Roxy stepped out onto the porch, in her gym wear, with a towel around her neck.


    ¡°Up already, gremlin? You did actually get sleep, right?¡± The super grinned. ¡°The embarrassment didn¡¯t keep you up?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I slept very well, sister. Gunquake knows just the right way to soothe me.¡±


    Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°By sweeping around your vomit?¡±


    ¡°No, I just¡­ well, should we tell her, Gunquake?¡± Clara raised an eyebrow at me.


    As much as honesty was the best policy, I was leaning toward letting the techie get her claws in. She seemed to have fun being the thorn in Roxy¡¯s side, and I wanted her to be happy. I gave her a shrug, allowing her to play this out as she saw fit.


    ¡°What should you tell me?¡± the super asked.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Clara said, her all-too-sweet smile visibly eroding at the confidence Roxy had built up. ¡°Oh, check your lens, Gunquake. I have updated your schedule and there may be some¡­ other things I know you¡¯d be interested in looking at.¡±


    [Thank you, that is very efficient.]


    She gave me a brief nod. ¡°As your sidekick, it is my job to meet your every need.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t exactly sure that was in the job specification, but the growing ire on Roxy¡¯s face was worth the slight lie. Despite knowing for sure both of us were too immature for it, it had only taken Clara a few lines to sow the seeds once more. Perhaps the super had expected her to be crestfallen that the game was up.


    With a nod to the techie, I went to the kitchen to make good on my promise to cook breakfast. Roxy glared at Clara for a few seconds before following along.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get your goggles while you cook,¡± she offered, her eyes still slightly narrowed at me as we walked through the lobby.


    [Do you intend to delete the pictures before handing them over?]


    ¡°What pictures? There are pictures?¡± Roxy flexed her hand, looking back out to the garden as if she had x-ray vision.


    [It¡¯s adorable how gullible you are.]


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± She simmered down and waved me away. ¡°I realize I''ve caused her to double down. We¡¯re all playing a role here, to a degree. It¡¯s a bit of fun.¡± The annoyance wore away to a smile. ¡°She bounced back suspiciously quick, though. Did she... kiss you?¡±


    I nodded.


    Roxy looked off to the side and nodded. ¡°That¡¯s cute. Phase two, huh?¡± She turned and went for the stairs, leaving me a little perplexed.


    It seemed there was another game going on in the background that I wasn¡¯t privy to. As long as they were both happy, I couldn¡¯t complain. Given that I was pretty loved-starved until recently, this was rather nice. Maybe dangerous, but as long as any domestic drama didn¡¯t spill into our working lives, then it was acceptable.


    Bread in the toaster, I got the eggs out of the fridge as the super returned downstairs with my goggles.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t check them. I do trust you, you know.¡± She helped put them on me as I cracked the first egg into the pan.


    [Of course. Oh, there¡¯s an alert from the League.]


    ¡°About that prison break. We¡¯re off duty, so we don¡¯t need to worry about it. Even if it is something dire, they¡¯d not want us to intervene, since the group isn¡¯t public yet. Would fuck up our image.¡± She shrugged and went to sit on one of the stools.


    [I suppose they have the S-Ranks if gets that bad. They give any detail on who escaped?]


    ¡°Nope. Not to us, anyway.¡± She shook her head before pointing a finger at me. ¡°You need to focus those wandering eyes on the task at hand, babe. I don¡¯t mean breakfast either. We have five days of freedom before the shit hits the fan for real. Anything you want to do before then, we¡¯ll need to manage our time and rest appropriately.¡±


    [Are you saying this as the squad leader?]


    ¡°I¡¯m saying this as the bitch that will tear your limbs off if your reckless streak reappears. Not all of us have your luck in avoiding death.¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond to that, knowing that she was right. As a superhero surrounded by a team, I couldn¡¯t afford to just throw my injured body all over the place¡ªespecially if one of them got caught in the crossfire. Instead, I brought up a pending message.


    //Stacy: GQ, congratulations.


    //Stacy: We will talk in due course.


    [I have a message from our manager. A very curt one.]


    ¡°Probably knows we plan to go public.¡± Roxy gave me a humorless smile. ¡°Her daydreams of a millionaire cyborg stallion are shattered.¡±


    I picked up the spatula and shuffled around the frying egg.


    [She might still have a chance? Why should I stop at two, when I could have a harem?]


    The super ran her tongue across her lips. ¡°Other than you being dead long before that could happen, it¡¯s amusing to imagine introducing you to my parents as my boyfriend¡­ and then here are his six other girlfriends.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Plus, Clara barely counts as is.¡±


    [She told me about the list. How it says anything is allowed.]


    Roxy opened her mouth, a scowl across her brow as if she was about to deny either the existence or contents of said list, but then relaxed. ¡°That¡¯s not the entirety of what it says. It¡¯s she can do anything, as long as she keeps you alive and makes you as strong as me.¡± She pouted.


    My longevity meant more than the exclusivity. I understood it, without her needed to elaborate. I was an odd case of a man melded with both machine and magic. Prone to injuries that would kill most, and Clara was probably one of the few people willing and capable of keeping me in one piece. Roxy wanted an equal. To be an unparalleled duo in all regards.


    [Good news then, as our scheduled trip into the wastes is to do just that.]


    ¡°Itinerary says the buildings will be arriving this morning. Then she¡¯s blocked me out to set those up for a few hours. Early afternoon the other goofballs are arriving and the rest of the day is ¡®treasure hunt¡¯.¡±


    [Mine is the same except I also have a twenty-minute block marked as ¡®soft play¡¯ in an hour. The location is¡­ Clara¡¯s bedroom.]


    Roxy clicked her tongue. ¡°I think she likes the danger of it, you know? Knowing that I could fly off the handle and pulp her into a puddle. Even though she isn¡¯t going to follow through¡­ that¡¯s only true until she does, right?¡±


    [So¡­ should I click ¡®not able to attend¡¯?]


    ¡°Motherfucker, I''m not going to validate that with a response.¡± Her eyes went down to the egg as I slipped it onto a plate atop the toast. ¡°What do you know of the building deliveries?¡±


    [Storage warehouse and medical center. The current two buildings will be Clara¡¯s office and a workshop proper now. Cartridge fabricator arriving tomorrow. I should check in on our mining outpost and see if they have material soon.]


    ¡°Mmm,¡± she said, licking her lips at me rather than the food. ¡°It¡¯s like we¡¯re building an empire.¡±


    Clara stepped into the house and came through into the kitchen, the pair of them staring daggers at each other, even as I passed over a plate of toast to the techie.


    [All set for the buildings to arrive?]


    ¡°The couriers know to stop outside our protected area, and I have places in mind for them to be erected. I¡¯ll assist Rockslide with that, just in case she needs pointers¡­ on how they should be arranged.¡±


    I could almost feel the heat coming off the super over the cooking right in front of me.


    [What position do you want me in?]


    Oh, yes. Could definitely feel it now.


    ¡°I¡¯d actually like you to study the mecha, if you could, Gunquake. While not an exact science, and you being better equipped for different purposes, I want you to get a feel for the magic and see what your overall thoughts on the machine are.¡±


    [Not a problem. Is there anything you can tell us about the artefact we¡¯ll be hunting?]


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± Clara grinned widely. ¡°Nothing good, however.¡±


    I had a feeling that would be the case.

 104 - Digging Down

    My mood was rather dull in contrast to the bright ambers of the sunlit dunes acoss the wasteland as the quake-wagon rocketed through the dry dust.


    The morning had gone by in a blaze. I had spent some time staring and prodding at the stolen mecha. Other than being able to sense that it was full of strong magic, I didn¡¯t understand much of it. Clara didn¡¯t want me to try to dispel anything, in case it ruined the whole. She wanted to copy it and apply it to me at some point in the future.


    That prospect was both exciting and worrying.


    Thankfully, although my progress toward that target was nearly zero, I was at least able to stay out of the way of the other two as they argued about setting up the two new buildings. Roxy didn¡¯t like being pestered about, and Clara liked to do just that. It was something of a miracle that when I emerged from my fruitless task; the techie hadn¡¯t been squashed beneath one of the walls.


    Now we had five buildings, including the house. It had caused me to pause, briefly overwhelmed at how things had developed. As if the seed of my prior hovel had grown into a tree. One that would store weapons and machinery to allow me to bloom.


    There wasn¡¯t enough time to fully appreciate it, as the rest of the group arrived soon after. We got ready, and then we were away.


    Everyone in their normal superhero outfits, which seemed strange now. It was just the simple case of it being the most effective thing they could wear. Armored to some degree, and built for them to fight in.


    Which is something they¡¯d have to do. Clara gave us a short briefing before vanishing into her office. The artefact was reported to be underground, a place that used to be a town but that had long passed. Now it was full of mutants. Not as tough as the lizardkin, but almost as senior when it came to longevity in the wastelands. That meant greater numbers. Most of their time was spent underground, so she didn¡¯t have much more for us than that.


    As for the artefact itself, she said we¡¯d know it when we saw it. With two of us able to detect magic, that seemed reasonable. Ren might even be able to spot it, considering how familiar she was with her own weapon. Our target for this treasure hunt was not a weapon, however.


    Despite a few pointed questions, Clara would only let on that it was some manner of power source, but different from the crystals. The others were rather cool on the prospect of running this mission without knowing exactly we were getting in trouble for, but Roxy soon fired them up.


    So we had then left. Other than Roy¡¯s fixed fist weapon and a belt for Belle to hold three arcane crystals, the techie didn¡¯t have any new surprises to give us. It was a miracle that she had been able to get those things to us, given the lack of time between events. I had all my gear, including three of each grenade. It was enough. It would have to be.


    ¡°You¡¯re quiet, Dubs.¡± Roxy said, taking a break from staring out at the roving horizon. ¡°Busy deciding who your other six girlfriends would be?¡±


    [Hmm? Oh. I guess just Stacy and the rest of the team.]


    ¡°Dumbass.¡± She smiled and rolled her eyes. ¡°That reminds me, though. You notice that Ren hasn¡¯t been stuck in her phone and business bullshit lately?¡±


    [I have.]


    ¡°She¡¯s been leaving that side of things to her husband more, and it¡¯s done wonders for their marriage, she told me.¡± The super looked in the side mirror at the vehicle following behind us. ¡°I¡¯m really happy for her.¡±


    [That is great. I wasn¡¯t aware.]


    ¡°You forget these chumps were my friends years before you popped along, babe. We disconnected, but now I get my ears filled with all their gossip once again.¡± Roxy looked back at me with a wry smile. ¡°Roy is ace, and you are not Belle¡¯s type in the slightest.¡±


    [I feel like I¡¯ve missed out on a lot of exposition somewhere.]


    ¡°Nah, we haven¡¯t been together long. Things have gone¡­ very quickly, so you haven¡¯t been slowly eased into everyone¡¯s baggage.¡± She clicked her tongue, eyes probably visualizing a calender to count how many days we¡¯d known each other. ¡°Roy had a girlfriend for a while, but it was more performative. League pushed it. C-Rank hero. Eventually, he couldn¡¯t keep up the act and they split.¡±


    [And Belle?]


    ¡°You know her history with the Church. I think she¡¯s just burned out with relationships, and wants to work on herself and her faith at the moment.¡± Roxy raised an eyebrow. ¡°She sent me a message after you went to see her to reassure me that she had no attraction to you. She had a feeling you¡¯d be good friends due to the magic shit you have in common.¡±


    [At least I have Stacy then.]


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re joking some days.¡± She sighed and relaxed into the seat. ¡°Well, no. I know you are, it''s just that I have a habit of overthinking these things. I¡¯m sure you have your hand full as it is.¡±


    [I was actually thinking about the looming violence.]


    The super was quiet for a few moments. ¡°Ah, that makes more sense. I was trying to ignore it. It¡¯s not just me, right? This feels¡­ different.¡±


    There were several reasons why that could be. This was illegal in several ways. Against what the League would want. Putting us into unknown danger with no backup. Far away from Goldarch, it might not just be mutants we needed to worry about.


    [It¡¯s the old outfits.]


    She raised an eyebrow and looked at me. Although she chose not to respond, I wondered how close to the truth I had struck. It was mostly a guess. They had signed the contract to say they agreed to be something new. Something more. Now they were running through the wastes in the same old getups. Their old personas, almost, even if they weren¡¯t going to be very different after the swap. This kind of thing was important to superheroes, even if it didn¡¯t really affect me.


    I checked my messages, but there wasn¡¯t anything new. Clara had sent me a route to take and then had settled into designing molds for the foundry until we got closer. That was as good a prompt as any to message the mining outpost when I had a moment.


    I¡¯d already spoken to Teeba earlier. Nothing exciting to report, but I let them know to expect something soon. He said the drop pod have been adjusted and could put things about a mile off from our home base. That seemed close enough. Once I got my own ammunition built, I would be a threat to most. Even Roxy.


    While she rested her hand on her palm and stared out of the window, I shot her a glance. I had always wanted to be strong enough to defeat her, but she had the same goal. While few people would argue that I was weak by any definition of the word, she was just far beyond most others. Part of it was just her desire for me to be less injury-prone.


    I was almost willing to believe I had been through the worse of it. The days of getting my arm repeatedly broken or bleeding profusely out of sloppily earned gunshot wounds were long over. Not that I should be tempting fate by thinking that, but I had a leg up over Agent W. Two legs, in fact, with how much I had improved in all regards since those days.


    [In the unlikely even that the World Government knows where we are going and sends something¡­]


    ¡°We¡¯ll kill them,¡± Roxy said, without budging.


    [Potentially making us international criminals.]


    She grunted. ¡°Some days that feels like an eventuality, anyway. Would be nice to have a real challenge for once.¡±


    I let her statement sit for a while, the rough terrain providing the only audible noise as we thundered onwards.


    [Were the mechas that almost killed you not challenge enough?]


    The super pulled a face before turning her head to me. ¡°Physically, sure¡­ but not like¡­ my convictions.¡±


    [Oh. You want to fight for your principles and beliefs. Eject everyone trying to control you, and live truly free.]


    ¡°That¡¯s just idealistic, Dubs.¡± She wrinkled her nose up before shrugging. ¡°I wasn¡¯t content following the League¡¯s whims. I was even more disappointed with life when I bucked my responsibilities. Things are getting better now, but I want¡­ more.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    [A higher purpose?]


    ¡°Nothing that dramatic.¡± Roxy smiled. ¡°But sure, that¡¯s what you want too, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    That was quite the question. Reborn into validity, what did I really want for my future? It had started as a way to escape the thumb of the League. In knowing and accepting my past, my goals had shifted. Just like Boss had wanted, I was going to use my given tools to grab out for the life that I wanted.


    At present, that meant gaining power. Spending time with friends and those I¡¯d come to love. Anything bigger picture than that could wait until I was ready.


    [Perhaps. Until I know for sure I am willing to back your dreams with everything I have.]


    ¡°Smooth talker. So¡­ have you thought about the name for your citizenship? I¡¯m guessing you don¡¯t want to take your ¡®fathers¡¯ surname.¡±


    [Not unless I want the World Government to up the ante. Can¡¯t be that overt with my current strength.]


    ¡°What about something opposite? Like¡­ Redd?¡±


    [Pass. Does it have to be a forename-surname thing? No mononyms?]


    ¡°Fuck if I know. I¡¯ll pester the gremlin for the rules. You¡¯d want to be called just ¡®Dubs¡¯?¡± She tilted her head.


    [I haven¡¯t had the time to think about it, really. ¡®Dubs¡¯ is the first name I feel a real grounded connection to, and it sounds more like a nickname that something realistic.]


    I could tell that she wanted to present some more suggestions¡ªperhaps some normal names that started with a W. I¡¯d hear her out eventually, but now wasn¡¯t the time. She could tell I was tense about the artefact hunt, and not just because of the violence.


    The potential avenue to not only have a replacement arm, but something powerful, had me hoping for success. There was a chance there would be disappointment if the item we sought wasn¡¯t present. Or if we died, that would be pretty bad. The more of my past I had excavated and discarded, the greater my desire to have a hand again grew. A gun-arm had always been awkward and unconventional.


    But in a similar vein to how I refused a vocalizer for so long, I let my weapon become something normal. Long accepted as something unchangeable. Earlier I had tried to put my tact vest on and got it caught on the end of my barrel, pulling it out of my hands to fall onto the floor.


    It was the final nail in the coffin. The technology existed, even if it was distant and difficult. I had the most competent people around me needed to make it happen. I just had to sign up to it internally.


    I wanted my arm replaced.


    The wagon rocked as we crested over some rough rocky terrain.


    ¡°We need a new vehicle. A team one.¡±


    I glanced over at the super. The fact that she didn¡¯t like the ¡®quake-wagon¡¯ name aside, she had a point. Both of our vehicles were barely a few steps above civilian vehicles. The group of us had varied transversal skills that didn¡¯t align. A vehicle we could all travel in at the same time while keeping us safe would be a huge boon.


    [Let me bend the ear of the Director.]


    ¡°You think you have some sway with Kingston?¡± She raised an eyebrow, but didn¡¯t seem disbelieving.


    [I wouldn¡¯t say that I trust him, but we have an understanding over what is at stake here. If he wants me to be a good hero and stay alive, he¡¯ll bend the rules for my benefit.]


    In a way, he had to. It wasn¡¯t just about me being a valuable asset and loose cannon, but I now had sway over a whole team. Within a sentence, I could probably convince Roxy to do anything. The others would follow reasonable orders, but weren¡¯t all the way in. Still, us two with Clara backing us would be a giant thorn in the League¡¯s paw, if it backed us into a corner.


    [About twenty minutes out.]


    Roxy just nodded, her fingers flexing into fists and relaxing a few times, ready. I wondered where the intel about the artefact had even come from. What were the mutants doing with the power sources? If they were using to fuel their little civilization, we were essentially condemning them to erasure.


    Maybe I could just ask them for it.


    That thought just clacked noisily into a second one, like a marble. I had been asked how it felt to be a superhero now, and then I had complained about not being heroic. Roxy was right about it being a meaningless title. We were about to snuff out an unknown amount of lives for our own greed and lust for power. That didn¡¯t even make us villains, really.


    We were just¡­


    I paused as a message came in, from someone who I hadn¡¯t given my contact details.


    //Silhouette: Good afternoon, Gunquake.


    //Silhouette: If you are going where I think you are, then I¡¯d advise to turn around.


    //Gunquake: Are you spying on me?


    //Silhouette: Let¡¯s just say you have a way with words.


    //Silhouette: I¡¯m keen for us to sit down and talk properly.


    //Silhouette: Being in one piece and not detained would make that easier.


    //Gunquake: If you know something, say it. Otherwise leave me be.


    //Silhouette: The Warren of the Molepeople is suspected to be an Amber Site for Gov presence.


    //Gunquake: That means?


    //Silhouette: They aren¡¯t just working with the WG. There might be WG groups stationed there.


    I exhaled through my nose. A complication that we didn¡¯t need, and something I couldn¡¯t really keep to myself. Whether this meant I could trust him or not, I wasn¡¯t sure. There was still the chance that he was another super solider that I had fought with all those years ago. My line about singing him a song was enough of a clue to get his interest.


    [I¡¯ve had some intel come in. The places we¡¯re heading might have Government groups stationed there.]


    ¡°Fuck¡­ fuckers!¡± Roxy¡¯s mood switched in an instant, her brain flicking through potential scenarios. ¡°Who is telling you that?¡±


    I briefly considered telling her it was an anonymous source, but I couldn¡¯t lie to her. It had only been a few minutes since she was gung ho about murdering her way through any problem, but now that it was possibly real, she had to think about it with a little more sense.


    [Silhouette.]


    She pulled a face, unsure how to process that information. I didn¡¯t blame her. He was a S-Rank hero, and potentially my brother. The warning might be well informed and valid given his position, but how and why was he giving this to us?


    //Clara: Running a scan, please hold.


    The drone beeped as it turned on, but didn¡¯t move from my backpack. These days, I expected the techie to be spying on us at all times, so it didn¡¯t move the needle to know she had heard that conversation. Like Roxy had said, the techie had full access to whatever she wanted.


    Even before she confirmed it, I had a pretty good idea what she was about to say.


    Tracking device on the wagon. Placed by Silhouette while we were in our meeting, inert until we were well into the wastes this afternoon so that our home tech didn¡¯t pick up the communication once it was on.


    //Clara: I don¡¯t have a way to disable it remotely.


    //Clara: You¡¯ll have to do it once at the location.


    By that point, it was less of a problem. The damage had already been done.


    //Gunquake: Are you going to rat us out?


    //Silhouette: No.


    //Silhouette: I prefer it when people don¡¯t know I have my eye on things.


    //Silhouette: So you can imagine how serious this is for me to contact you.


    //Silhouette: You¡¯re all adults, you can make this decision for yourselves.


    //Silhouette: Just be aware of the hornet¡¯s nest you might be shaking.


    //Gunquake: I will keep that in mind.


    ¡°As my second in command, I need you to weigh in on this, Dubs.¡± Roxy still had a sour expression on her face. ¡°I haven¡¯t told the others yet.¡±


    [Is the World Government our enemy?]


    The question didn¡¯t help her facial expression much. As the wagon rolled through the wastes, she exhaled and shrugged. ¡°They are potential enemies of the League, who are our employer and local government.¡±


    [But they aren¡¯t kill on sight. Could there be ramifications for us if we engage them?]


    ¡°Quit with the leading questions.¡± She scowled. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to push me to an answer. I want to know what Gunquake wants to do.¡±


    [Respectfully, I will kill anyone standing in between my gun-arm and getting that artefact. Objectively, we don¡¯t know if the intel is reliable, or the nature of the Government presence. I don¡¯t kill innocents, so it will depend on what they are doing there.]


    She nodded slowly, perhaps wondering if she should prod me on whether mutants counted as innocent or not. We would soon find out, if they attacked us first. Surrender was always an option. I was long past avoiding being a monster, but I could be nuanced. Especially now that I was dragging the others into my messes.


    Roxy nodded, but her eyes were off sending messages. ¡°I¡¯m laying it out for them. They can go home right now if they want, with zero judgements. Once we arrive, they will have to lock in. Full commit.¡±


    Tough, but fair. I didn¡¯t think it was likely they¡¯d abandon us, and after a minute of silence, Roxy confirmed that fact.


    ¡°They¡¯re in. Stupid bastards.¡± She shook her head and sighed. ¡°Hopefully Silhouette is just slinging shit and we aren¡¯t about to fuck ourselves over.¡±


    Although she wasn¡¯t saying it, I could read between the lines. A group of supers moonlighting out in the wastes, killing off mutant tribes? The World Government might not like that, and even if they didn¡¯t care for the various groups making do in the wastelands, they would surely love to needle the League about it. More pressure to capitulate.


    So Roxy was saying we would need to leave no witnesses.


    Part of me could sense the granules of the future, like I was panning through the muck with foresight. Either a time-honed gut feeling or part of one of my emerging latent abilities. The last two wasteland outposts I had stuck my pan in had produced nuggets of value and growth without too much bloodshed clouding the process. I wanted to make this a hat-trick. Sifting about, I was sure to dredge up something untoward eventually. Still, while my legs stayed dry on the embankment of success, I¡¯d filter through any golden opportunity that came up. Hoping to strike it rich with a few empty shells and a stream of souls as the only cost.


    ¡°Play things smart and focus on getting in and out with what we want.¡±


    I nodded and slowed the vehicle. We were here.


    Or at least near enough that we weren¡¯t immediately attacked by any guards. Ren¡¯s vehicle pulled up beside us, and then it was go time.


    All out. Drone up into the air. A ruined building sat in the middle of an empty space of arid rock. It reminded me of the mine entrance, except it was more of an office block. Old bricks bleached light gray from constant sunlight over the years. Any windows had been bricked over, but the doorway on the ground floor had been widened to four or five times wider than a usual entryway. It was wide open, as well. Dark inside, as I presumed it went straight down soon after.


    ¡°Gunquake and I will attempt diplomacy first,¡± Roxy informed the group. ¡°The rest of you hang back in case they are immediately violent.¡±


    [We¡¯ll take this slowly. I expect a series of tunnels beneath the surface, so we¡¯ll be clearing sections as a team again.]


    They nodded and set off. The reason it was us to up front was simple. I had the charisma, and the super was likely to be able to weather whatever attacks came our way once I inevitably screwed up negotiations by allowing my shotgun to speak.


    //Clara: Two figures spotted at the entrance.


    As we neared, the shape of them became clearer. Molepeople was rather apt. Unless the two waiting for our approach were twins, then the mutants had some similarities. A longer left arm, thicker as if it had been inflated. A metal claw sat at the end of this limb, probably used for digging. The rest of them were pretty humanoid, aside from their wide heads. These two wore goggles¡ªround ones than were similar to mine. Mouths full of long, blunt teeth. Their more normal right hands held some manner of projectile weapon.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a bad feeling about this,¡± Roxy murmured. ¡°You sure the talking route is the right call?¡±


    [Trust me. I¡¯m an expert at this sort of thing.]

 105 - Henhouse

    I exhaled as I wiped the blood off of my gun barrel.


    ¡°You¡¯re an expert, huh?¡± Roxy¡¯s chide tone reflected the dull expression she was giving me. Her arms were crossed, and she seemed to actually want a response to that question.


    [We spoke and matters were resolved. I consider that a success.]


    I looked over at the two moleperson corpses. While the holes I had put through them made having an extended discussion difficult, the fact that there was a language barrier and they chose to see us as a threat put a tight conclusion on my diplomacy attempt.


    She shook her head as the others caught us up. ¡°I thought you had a language understanding spell?¡±


    I gave her a shrug.


    [I¡¯m not entirely sure how I can cast that one. For written words it comes more innately, but spoken¡­ I just couldn¡¯t find the right connection.]


    It made me wonder if the Government was really here or not if the standard language wasn¡¯t easily known. Maybe they had translators, or it was only certain individuals in the underground city that dealt with any officials visiting.


    There was no use speculating. As soon as the left side guard had decided to try to claw the words straight from my skull, I made our intentions crystal clear. Self defense; I was willing to believe it.


    ¡°Alright, gang.¡± She turned to face the others. ¡°It¡¯s unlikely we will be welcomed with open arms, but we¡¯re only fighting armed and aggressive occupants. No detours away from finding this artefact. If we get split up, then keep comms active. Stay safe. Understood?¡±


    We did understand. It was enough for us to get started, and after a last-minute gear check, we moved into the darkness of the building¡¯s ground floor.


    Crates and stacked construction materials ran around the hole that burrowed down into the ground. It was rather wide¡ªeasily twice that of the one at the pyramid. Enough for a vehicle to travel down. I raised an eyebrow as Ren kneeled down and ran a finger across the ground.


    ¡°Beasts of burden,¡± she noted. ¡°The underground must be quite extensive to require a delivery or trade route.¡±


    I had been acting under the impression that it was most likely some kind of city, but I could be wrong. A place holding a powerful artefact must have a certain amount of strength to it, and longevity meant growth over time. We also knew the chance of us getting split up was high. Not only for the pragmatic reason of finding the item we were here for, but it sounded realistic when fighting through unknown tunnels. If it was just tunnels, anyway. It could be a large underground space, like a cavern.


    Those thoughts seemed to hit a dead end just as we did. The short slope led down into a brickwork area, close to thirty feet square.


    ¡°Odd,¡± Ren mentioned. ¡°The tracks seem to stop right in the middle of this room here.¡±


    Belle and I looked at each other, a sudden feeling that only we could recognize that didn¡¯t leave us any time to speak. The wide surprise in her eyes told me enough. A sudden flash of magic that I felt through my bones before a light blinded me.


    By the time my eyes refocused, I was no longer in the large square room. Instead, I was somewhere alone, in what looked suspiciously like a prison cell. Three walls of thick brickwork around me while the doorway ahead was reinforced metal.


    If the magic teleportation had put Roxy in a similar cell, the molepeople were fucked.


    //Clara: Team has been scattered.


    //Clara: Imprisoned. I am nearest to Wren.


    //Rockslide: I¡¯ll try to get to you all.


    //Captain Snaps: Not my first jailbreak. Will keep updated.


    //Gunquake: Reconvene where possible.


    //Little Wren: Understood.


    No response from Belle. I ran my hand across the doorway. It wasn¡¯t just decently thick metal¡ªbut there was also a magical seal on it. I furrowed my brow and waved my hand, casting Dispel. As a warm feeling rose up my torso, I felt the thread of power cut and the seal was broken. Didn¡¯t really help with the physical side of my containment, but where there was a will, there was a way.


    Depending how smart those who constructed the cells were, getting the door popped open might not be too easy. Those who knew what they were doing would have built the brickwork up around a metal frame. Otherwise, the metal door wouldn¡¯t be much of an issue. I just had to blow the wall beside the frame out.


    I paused as I thumbed for my plastic explosives. There was a sound outside my cell. Overcharge hummed into life as I raised my gun-arm up, ready. A shake of keys and then the door clunked, the lock disengaged. I held my breath as it opened slowly.


    [Belle?]


    It was an easy enough guess, even ignoring the recognizable silhouette of her robes, the glowing green eyes made my question more of a formality. The bolt lodged in her shoulder and blood flecked across her grimace wasn¡¯t something I had expected.


    ¡°His will requires you to be free, Gunquake,¡± she said, with a little less fervor than usual.


    I nodded and stepped out of the cell. Two dead molepeople lay on the floor. One of which had a bolt through their forehead. Clara also hovered nearby, the impassive drone somehow looking relieved to see me. Maybe I was projecting.


    [Impressive. You escaped and killed two of our captors.]


    ¡°I think we both know that He does most of the heavy lifting.¡± She grunted as she pulled the bolt from her shoulder, blood soaking through her uniform before healing sealed up the wound. ¡°He seems to find it amusing when our opponents have little accidents. A luck vacuum that often ends poorly for those I hit with the newly learned spell.¡±


    [Drains more of your power the more you tip the scales, however?]


    Belle sighed. ¡°Correct. The second bolt almost struck me in the head, but just missed. Ended up ricocheting between two other cell doors before impaling the one who had shot at me. Exhausting.¡±


    [The others?]


    //Clara: There seems to be several holding areas.


    //Clara: I have met up with Gunquake and Belle.


    //Little Wren: I¡¯m here with Roy, no sign of Roxy.


    //Rockslide: bc


    ¡®BC¡¯ meant too busy for comms. No doubt she was tearing the place apart somewhere else.


    [We¡¯ll need to reconvene when possible. For now, let¡¯s head out and find this artefact.]


    I looked down the corridor. Six doors, all open now. The end opened up to a larger room, which was pulsing with light. An alarm, my brain told me, right before the sound of a siren began.


    ¡°The good news is,¡± Belle said, stepping up beside me, ¡°any non-combatants should stay out of our way now.¡±


    That was possibly true. It looked as though the molepeople were armed with a high-velocity crossbow type weapon. Out of the three groups we had been split into, ours was probably the most vulnerable to that kind of attack - but Belle¡¯s protective shields should alleviate some of the problem.


    [That magic, though¡­]


    She nodded. ¡°Not something simple or familiar. One of us should be able to pick up on the thread of it once we get closer.¡±


    It hadn¡¯t been quite the same as the old magic from the pyramid, but it was strange. Perhaps a different manner in which the energy was generated, and although neither of us wanted to say it - that sounded like that could be what we were looking for.


    //Clara: Figures on approach. I will stay back.


    I held my arm out; the Overcharge running back up to full strength again as Belle put a shield over the both of us. While I¡¯d be content enough to puncture my way through any resistance in search of this artefact, in the back of my mind I still held the message sent from Silhouette.


    If the World Government was here, they¡¯d be on alert with the ruckus we were causing. Even though they weren¡¯t likely to have any sort of connection to my past¡­ the potential link itched inside my skull. I needed to root them out.


    As soon as a shadow washed across the doorway, I fired.


    The metal sphere burst through the neck of the first moleperson, their shot bouncing across the wall and into one of the opened cells. Behind them, a second guard illuminated in green before they caught the falling one I¡¯d shot, both of them collapsing to the ground. While he squirmed beneath the weight of the freshly made corpse, I stepped through and put a steel ball through their head.


    We were now in a more open area that had a balcony running across a second floor. More cells. A light on the wall pulsed a deep red hue, fading in and out alongside the harsh wail of the alarm.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    [I hate alarms.]


    There was a staircase up to the second floor, over to the left, and the exit was to the right. Rather than funnel more guards in this way, it looked as though they had barricaded the door¡ªsomething even sturdier looking than my cell door had been. This courtyard-styled area was mostly empty aside from a couple of benches for dining.


    //Clara: The others aren¡¯t in this area.


    While being able to teleport intruders directly into jail sounded like a useful trick, without disarming or disabling the detainees, they were asking for trouble. That happened to be our name today.


    [We need to get out of here.]


    Belle nodded. ¡°I need to meet the others to support and heal them.¡±


    Other than evasion, the pairing of Ren and Roy wasn¡¯t that durable. One of these high-powered bolts could do some serious damage to them. Still¡­ they were on a B-Rank team. Natural Disasters needed heroes that could burn through their limits and survive all odds. I wasn¡¯t going to put them in danger on purpose, but I fully trusted them to be self sufficient until we met back up.


    I bent down to pick up one of the bolts from the dead moleperson and slipped it into my belt before waving away the spell on the outer door. The warmth radiating through my insides told me that I¡¯d be lucky to get one more painless cast off. I needed to recharge.


    Not quite the stealth and ambush type of combat I was used to, but it had streaks of my hitman life to it. A couple of extras behind me to be wary of, but an unknown amount of hostiles ahead eager for me to put a few holes in them. I ejected the metal ball out of the chamber and loaded in a High Explosive cartridge.


    ¡°Just one second, Gunquake.¡±


    I turned my head as the shielder stepped up to me. Her hand was glowing green, and she touched the back of my metal elbow. The color drained from her and swirled down my barrel, remaining as a slight sheen down the length of my shotgun.


    [Oh? So full of surprises.]


    She gave me a strained smile. ¡°I have a lot to discuss with you, but that¡¯s for when we aren¡¯t in deep shit.¡±


    [Understood. I can go with the flow.]


    The drone flew up to the second floor to check for danger as I stepped over to the door. It made sense to see if it was already open before I started putting dents in the masonry. Sometimes the simplest options were the correct ones. My left hand grabbed at the handle and I was briefly surprised that it turned.


    Then I was further shocked as it flung open toward me, knocking me back as a moleperson charged through. They were taller and wider than all the others I had seen before. Instead of a crossbow, they had a large fist weapon. Like the Captain¡¯s gauntlets, except spiked and pure metal. Belle¡¯s shield flickered and hissed as the large guard carried me across the room with their charge.


    I slammed against the wall, some air leaving my lungs as their bladed fist cut into me. Couldn¡¯t bring up my shotgun against the press of their body, so I shot into their foot. The HE Shell completely shredded through their boot, blasting even through into the concrete floor. Rather than back away in pain, he growled and bit into my neck with his fangs. It wasn¡¯t enough to break through the shield and my cybernetics.


    Left hand came up to push him away, pressing into his neck.


    //Clara: More coming to the door.


    There wasn¡¯t time for this. Belle wouldn¡¯t be able to hold off on her own. Even as she dabbled into new powers, she was still support. But I¡­


    I was a killer.


    Knife sprung from my gauntlet, and the moleman lurched backward as the blade nicked at his neck. Fist drew out of my side, swinging back so that he could pummel me. The green glow of his shattered foot faded away as he slipped on the pulped limb, struggling to gain his stability instead.


    That was enough time for me.


    Gun-arm came up, a second HE shot blowing a hole in his chest. Staggered but still not dead thanks to his armor. Rappel shot from my extended arm, landing in the wound I had just caused. As Reflex blew through my synapses, the foam expanded inside their ribcage, crushing their lungs and heart. Chamber clacked back and forth, ejecting the empty shell as it loaded a Smoke in¡ªthe shot blooming across the doorway even as the taller guard slumped over.


    Metal ball followed in through the gray cloud before my synapses cooled down. I let the grapple sink away from the melting foam to reconnect to my gauntlet and strode forward. Belle hit me with some more healing, and renewed her shield¡ªbut I hardly made note of it. It was time for me to be back at peak Gunquake.


    Into the smoke and I could see the confused outline of a moleperson, unsure if they should try to push through. Sphere of solid steel gave them an answer. Short and to the point.


    I stepped out into a new corridor, into further rooms of the prison. A wider door to the right promised an exit. If they had several different holding pens, the city itself must be pretty large. Belle and Clara came out of the smoke behind me as I stepped over to the wide metal exit.


    This one didn¡¯t have a magical seal over it. I could imagine why that would be, so I took a grenade off of my vest as I pushed the door open.


    Five mole people crouched behind waist-high cover let loose their bolts. The Flash in my hand went off. My ears buzzed and rang, but I managed to keep my vision mostly functional. Grapple to the face of one as a metal ball burst into the skull of another. I was striding toward them as they tried to shake the blinding light from their eyes.


    I hopped over the barricade and lashed out with my barrel, catching one in the neck. Overcharge burned through my V-Force drive and put a ball through the last two in one blast.


    After standing back up, I realized I had taken a couple of shots. Three bolts protruded from my chest. Not very deep wounds, so no damage any of my organs, but the time that I got some better armor couldn¡¯t come soon enough. I held my gun-arm out. There was no immediate threat in this chamber, I just¡­


    There was a half-formed thought there. A memory of doing¡­ something. I lowered my arm again, not really sure where I was going with that. Instead, I turned as the other two walked in. Belle placed a hand on my chest as she pulled the bolts out of me with the other, her healing transferring over as my own warmed up.


    ¡°You¡¯re acting a little reckless, Dubs. Are you worried?¡± She raised an eyebrow as she removed her hand, some of the green glow fading from her eyes.


    I grunted as I looked around this new room. That wasn¡¯t quite the accurate take on my current feelings. Plus, I was annoyed that all of these spaces looked the same. Not that I expected a map to point us toward the artefact, but the prospect of being lost and stuck underground¡­


    [Previously, I was under the mistaken assumption that I did not deserve friends or love. So I put my life on the line unnecessarily, leaving it to fate to decide what kind of karma I deserved. Although I have realized the error of that line of thinking-]


    ¡°Now that we¡¯re all serparated, you feel you need to win us back in the same way.¡± Belle shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s not something you have to fight for anymore. Come on, the squad needs us.¡±


    I nodded. It wasn¡¯t exactly my ego getting in the way. Dashing myself against the enemy to get back to Roxy was a little short-sighted. Even if she couldn¡¯t be mad at me now as I body-blocked sharp projectiles, turning up to where she was looking like a pincushion wasn¡¯t likely to garner any sympathy.


    As we walked across the room, I slid the previously acquired bolt down my barrel, my eyes going up in my lens as messages came through.


    //Captain Snaps: They have us pinned down.


    //Captain Snaps: We have cover, but there¡¯s too much suppressing fire to move.


    //PHG Belle: Ren, try to put as much energy into your bow as possible.


    //Little Wren: Understood.


    ¡°Here, Dubs, hold my hand.¡± Belle held hers out, and I did as she asked.


    The defensive hero closed her eyes, trying to focus. She was using me as an additional conduit for her Detect Magic, hoping to pick out Ren¡¯s artefact. Given that we were somewhat familiar with it, it helped to recognize the thread of magic amongst everything else going on in this place.


    ¡°They aren¡¯t too far,¡± she said, opening her eyes once more. ¡°I¡¯ll guide you.¡±


    The door flung open and the moleperson taking their chance received the bolt to the face. Beyond them was noise. Shapes and light that hinted something I was hoping for, yet was entirely unprepared to meet.


    Stepping into the doorway, I looked out into the city proper. Buildings made of gray brickwork spanned a large distance. All roughly square in shape with sharp edges, but differing in height. For a moment I thought we might be outside again, before a glance up showed an overarching ceiling, illuminated at the apex by a glowing orb of light¡ªa faux sun. There must be miles of this city around us.


    ¡°Swing to the right,¡± Belle instructed me.


    Clara went up into the air to survey the area as we slunk into an alleyway across the street.


    //Clara: Reinforcements as still gathering a distance away.


    //Clara: We should avoid them as we travel to the others.


    //Dubs: Go find Ren and Roy. You can guide us more accurately.


    //Clara: Confirmed.


    I watched as the drone zipped off in the direction Belle had been pointing us. We continued through the passageway, an odd earthy smell filling my re-breather. It looked as though whatever manner of plumbing must link up out through into this alleyway. Grating in the brickwork every so often. Luckily for us, the buildings on either side of us had no windows at this level.


    It didn¡¯t make the constantly blaring alarm any less ear-shattering, however. Something that was exhausting my waking mind.


    //Clara: Located them.


    //Clara: Cross the next street, then head to the rooftops.


    //Clara: The enemy has the high ground and heavy weapons.


    As we stopped at the mouth of the alleyway, I crouched down and peered up and down the street. Assuming the molepeople had a civilian class, it looked as though the alarm had the benefit of keeping them inside the buildings. This row looked mostly residential, although there were a couple of structures that could be shops. I could see patrols down the far left side that looked as though they were heading toward our prison, which meant they¡¯d probably check this alley once we were found to be missing.


    It was clear. We ran across into the opposite alley, and I turned to look up at the tallest building to my right.


    ¡°I really need a traversal skill,¡± Belle murmured as she clung onto me.


    Grapple went out and stuck to the roof just over the edge of the building. Wire tightened and then started to pull us up. Walking up the building with no free hands and someone hanging on me wasn¡¯t exactly easy, but a decent workout for my legs and core. After Belle hopped off of me, I rolled onto the roof and retracted the end of the grapple from the melting foam.


    //Clara: Head across the rooftops northeast, you¡¯ll see them shortly.


    While the hero hadn¡¯t been a fan of having to use me as an elevator, she was even less enthused about having to leap from building to building. She was capable, of course. To say she was the least athletic out of all of us would be a disservice, as she could keep up with those of us with actual super powers with little issue.


    Her robes weren¡¯t exactly made for gymnastics, however.


    ¡°Redesign can¡¯t come soon enough,¡± she grumbled, wiping the dust from her knees after our fifth jump.


    If anything, I was going to wonder why there weren¡¯t molepeople up on the rooftops. Of course, I could see now that I was only half correct about that¡ªand the courtyard where the others were stuck was quite the chokepoint. We kept low by the edge of our current placement to avoid detection, the focus of our opponents solely on our two squadmates.


    A dead end indeed. The wide road ended with a couple of thick stone half-walls that the two heroes were currently pinned behind. Dozens of bolts littered the area, lines in the stonework around the pair scratched as the molepeople tried to keep them in place. Not only was there a handful of guards at the ground level, but a metal bridge ran over between two of the buildings, allowing them to fully block off this area.


    On this bridge were a handful of our opponents, and wheeled weapon that looked like a large repeating version of their crossbow. The barrel of it spun patiently, waiting for the superheroes to make a break for it. Perhaps more dangerous than that, was a group of molepeople attempting to flank the pair by hopping over the rooftops opposite to us.


    //Dubs: Go find Roxy, we¡¯ll be fine.


    //Clara: Understood.


    ¡°I can put the dome up over them,¡± Belle whispered, ¡°but you¡¯ll have to do the rest.¡± She placed a hand on my gun-arm, giving it that green sheen again.


    My eyes went over to the metal bridge.


    [Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m ready to get dug in.]

 106 - Heavy Handed

    While she was still looking a little tired, I had to admit that I was becoming a bigger fan of working with Belle.


    A trail of green light followed the metal sphere as it burst from my shotgun, whistling through the air. The ball bounced loudly off the side of the bridge support on this side of the buildings, the green sheen vanishing.


    There was a shuddering groan, and as the gathered molepeople turned and noticed us, the support cracked through the brickwork where it was held. The weight of the occupants caused the metal walkway to twist and buckle, a terrible squealing sound rising even above the constant siren. It tipped, tearing away from the foundations over the street, sending both the guards and the large repeating weapon toppling to the concrete below.


    Belle stood and cast her protective dome down over the two pinned. As I loaded my next shot in, I watched as Ren stood. An arrow burst out of the dome up toward the flanking group of molepeople on the rooftops. The projectile exploded behind them, a quick gust of air pushing them off of the edge and onto the street. Roy was there as soon as they landed, making his way through the bodies with a quick series of lightning punches.


    I landed a Triple shot down into the bridge group. Smoke, Tazer, and Incendiary. Just enough to cause some disarray and confusion while we regrouped. My feet took me pacing along the edge of the rooftops to the point where the bridge had fallen, putting metal balls into any clear target that made themselves visible.


    Our combined strength quickly overran the rest, leaving the dead end a mixture of dissipating smoke and warm dust from the combat. Belle gave the others healing, some minor wounds received.


    ¡°Terrible positioning,¡± Roy said, shaking his head. He looked clearly disappointed in himself for getting into that sort of situation.


    He wasn¡¯t wrong, however, but I didn¡¯t blame him. It was almost as though this area was purpose-built for pushing something into an inescapable position. No windows on doors on the surrounding buildings, and even the roofs had a curved lip to try to stop people climbing up out of this bad situation.


    It was perhaps somewhere they trapped wild animals or people without weaponry. Not that it couldn¡¯t be anything else, but it was enough for my mind to be content enough to move on.


    //Clara: Targets are making a retreat to regroup.


    //Clara: No sign of Rockslide yet.


    ¡°Thanks for coming to help.¡± Ren stood up beside me, her bow up and trained down the cleared street. ¡°I think we could all do with some utility tech. We shouldn¡¯t get in situations that we don¡¯t have an answer to.¡±


    I grunted and gave her a brief nod.


    [Agreed. Something for our debriefing later. For now, we can stick together and cover each other¡¯s weaknesses.]


    The elf gave me a brief smile and lowered her weapon. ¡°We didn¡¯t want to clutter comms with it, but the reason we¡¯re over this way is because there¡¯s something you should see.¡±


    I gestured for them to lead on. The story of how they escaped their cells and got here could wait for another time. Despite the brief amount of quiet, we were still in dangerous territory. Roy led us out of this area and into a cross section of streets. We took a left and then a right, each direction having an occasional unconscious or dead moleperson from where the pair had last come through here.


    Down another street and I could see what they meant even before they could say anything.


    A building, just as nondescript and built the same as any other we had passed.


    Except this one had the seal of the World Government beside the door. The windows were dark and covered.


    [Let¡¯s see if anyone is home.]


    I stepped forward and slammed my boot into the door. It broke the lock completely out and swung open, a cloud of dust billowing out from where it struck the wall. Overcharge hummed through my weapon as I stepped into the darkness.


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on the roads,¡± Ren said, tailing last and staying in the doorway as the rest of us cautiously stepped through.


    A light in the ceiling blinked a few times before remaining on, illuminating the single room in a dull glow. In the center of the room was a long meeting table surrounded by chairs tucked in tight. A few cabinets were along the right wall, and a board took up the majority of the back.


    The Captain ran a finger along the edge of the table, dragging up some dust. ¡°It looks like it¡¯s been abandoned, although not for a long time.¡±


    He was right. Some of the cabinet drawers were open, and the board had been hastily scrubbed of whatever was on there before. The World Government had been here, but either moved on for some reason, or the molepeople had gotten rid of them. It wasn¡¯t exactly what I had been expecting, but perhaps was slightly better than getting tangled up with the Gov in very real terms.


    That said, something about this wasn¡¯t quite right. I glanced over at our support hero.


    ¡°A hidden door,¡± she said, without needing me to prompt for her thoughts. ¡°Simple enough to hide from the molepeople, no doubt. There are traces of the spell that are sloppy, however. I can sense it based on what is out of place, rather than how it really exists.¡±


    I was glad about that, as I wasn¡¯t able to pinpoint it myself. My arcane dust infusion was taking some time to recharge, dulling my magical competence. Still, when needs must.


    [Could you point it out for me?]


    Her finger went over to a blank part of the wall, and I raised my hand. Other than some brief warmth, pain wracked through my mind as I caught the edge of the spell and tore it from reality, dispelling the magic obscuring the door. A simple enough entrance, not any more secure or reinforced than the main door had been.


    I shook the ache from my skull and went over to it, gun-arm at the ready in case there were Government agents lying in wait.


    It swung open without complaint, revealing a similarly gloomy room long abandoned. Shelving with dusty crates and a couple of tables up against the wall. Rather than being stripped bare, they had some amount of clutter on them.


    [Check the crates, Roy. Belle, help me look over the tables.]


    I was eager to get some answers, or at least work through whatever was going on here, before Ren had to warn us the guards had gotten their act together.


    //Dubs: Sitrep?


    //Clara: Enemy is consolidating into two regiments.


    //Clara: No sight of Rockslide yet.


    //Dubs: We are in a WG building, will rejoin objective asap.


    //Clara: Understood.


    ¡°Oh shit,¡± Belle said, drawing my attention away from the screens. ¡°Looks like someone might have been betrayed.¡±


    Looking over the tables, there was a clear spray of long dried blood across them, the deep crimson having soaked in the paperwork.


    ¡°Something, something, there was a mole,¡± Roy muttered to himself as he opened up the first crate.


    I had long held the belief that I wasn¡¯t much of a detective, but I could put some puzzle pieces together to make a guess at what had happened. The Agents here were making a break for it, probably after wearing out their welcome. Someone had caught them in the act and took away the burden of escaping from them permanently, but didn¡¯t seem to care about all this work being left behind.


    It would also have been someone who knew about the hidden door.


    As we pushed through the loose papers falling out of folders, I didn¡¯t need the concerned murmurs of our healer to know that this wasn¡¯t good. There was no chance the World Government would have chosen to leave this behind intentionally.


    [Get all of this in a container, we need to take it.]


    Roy looked over from his box, pausing as he rifled through the contents. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ never going to guess what¡¯s in here.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, I have a very good idea,¡± Belle replied, picking up a page and handing it to me.


    Arcane crystals. A delivery route going between several destinations in the wastelands. I stepped over to the Captain and checked inside the box. To my eye, they were just the same as the ones we had taken from the pyramid¡­ although these looked inert. Otherwise, I probably would have felt their magical energy.


    [We aren¡¯t equipped for looting, so we¡¯ll leave those behind - unless you need one or two, Belle?]


    She weighed up the option as she gathered the rest of the paperwork into a pile. ¡°I have enough space on me for two. That should be sufficient.¡±


    Amongst the shelving, there was little else of note. Some supplies and stored items for the Agents¡¯ stay here. One of the cases was a thick briefcase, which we put all of the papers in.


    I was trying to ignore some of the implications from our discovery. Difficult, considering how brazen the facts seemed to be. The League were right to be paranoid about the World Government stewing up hatred for Goldarch with the various mutant tribes. It looked as though they were giving more of a helping hand than I had thought.


    [Artefact is still the priority, but this case is almost more important.]


    Belle gave me a brief nod. ¡°I¡¯ll keep it safe. It probably is easiest for me to carry it if you all will be fighting.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of that,¡± Ren¡¯s voice came from the other room, her hearing clearly more acute than I had thought. ¡°There¡¯s trouble coming our way.¡±


    //Clara: Confirmed. One group of twenty moving through streets.


    //Clara: Thirty moving up along the rooftops.


    All of this, and I didn¡¯t even know how we planned to get out of here. If teleportation was the only way from the outside down into this cavern, then we¡¯d need to find how and where to activate it.


    [Potentially, we need to avoid this threat and find Roxy. She hasn¡¯t been in communication for a while.]


    I wouldn¡¯t say I was worried about her. If the molepeople had little better than these high-powered crossbows, then she could probably absorb or melt away most damage. That didn¡¯t mean that I wasn¡¯t concerned, however. We just had to act in the best interests of the mission. I knew she would understand.


    ¡°She can¡¯t have gone too far,¡± Roy offered. ¡°Quite likely she has found something to get stuck into.¡±


    We put the last of the paperwork into the case, along with two of the inert arcane crystals. One for ourselves, and another that I planned on giving to the League. I wasn¡¯t sure how we¡¯d get to explaining how we had come across these notes, but the Director knew that we dealt with things in our own way. In his eyes, we were working as intended.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Walking back into the previous room, I paused as a message came in through my lens from Clara. Before I had a chance to bring it up and read it, Ren ducked in from the doorway.


    ¡°Get down,¡± she yelled, causing us all to drop to a crouch by instinct.


    No sooner as we huddled down, there was a heavy thud that vibrated through the floor - a crack of broken concrete echoing through the street as a wave of intense heat burst the covered windows in, covering us.


    After the shards of broken glass settled and fell from us to the floor, we stood to see Roxy just outside the building. One arm and both of her legs running with dripping lava, the smell of smoldering stone joining the heated air she brought with her.


    If it wasn¡¯t for what she held in her left hand, that limb covered in powdered rock but otherwise normal, her eyes would have been the most notable thing about her appearance. Impassive, almost, despite the flickering flame running around her head. As her blank stare turned to me, she held out the square box she was carrying.


    ¡°Please take this,¡± she asked, discomfort in her tone.


    It was something odd that felt out of place. A perfect cube with a handle built on top, but the metal it was made of wasn¡¯t like any I had seen before. It had the sheen of dark steel to it, but visually it seemed to move slightly, as if living. Thin, grid-like lines of light blue appeared and vanished from view as it contorted ever so slightly.


    The amount of strong magical energy practically pulsing from it left no guesswork as to what it actually was.


    I held my left hand out and took it from her, the strange box actually much lighter than I had expected. It wasn¡¯t the weight that surprised me most, however, as I could now feel the power within reaching out to me. Like it was hungry.


    ¡°Prolonged exposure is probably a bad idea,¡± Belle said, crouching down to inspect the item closer. ¡°We need to get this out as soon as possible.¡±


    My eyes went up to my lens to check the messages.


    //Clara: Rockslide located.


    //Clara: It looks like she has the artefact.


    //Clara: I have notified her of your location, brace for impact.


    The chat messages vanished, and I continued to glance at the rocky ceiling above us. I wasn¡¯t a great judge of distances, but it looked like it was at least two-hundred feet high on average. At the pinnacle where the faux-sun sat, perhaps three-hundred. Even if Roxy could jump up that high, we didn¡¯t know how far beneath the surface we were. Any attempt to break through might just leave us covered with compacted dirt and rock.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight anymore, if we can help it.¡± Roxy had turned now and was looking down the street to where the large squad of guards were coming to rain a shower of bolts down on us. ¡°We have what we need.¡±


    She seemed a little out of it. Whether that was due to the proximity to what we believed was the artefact, or the fighting had taken something out of her, I wasn¡¯t sure. Something to grind out on the way home.


    [Let¡¯s find a way out then.]


    As much as I wanted to fill her head with the things we had just found in this World Government office, I was keen to keep my brain off of that subject for now as well. Not that she looked like she could take anything in at present.


    The super shot me a glance and nodded. ¡°Take point for me, Dubs.¡±


    There was something to be said about the respect I had gained in the short time of knowing this group, to the point where they had all accepted me as the second in command. I wondered who had that position before I had shown up. Roy seemed like the most likely bet, or perhaps Roxy¡¯s ex. Now that I was about to be inducted into the League of Heroes proper, I was a few steps closer to finding out who that asshole was.


    I shook my head and took action.


    [We will evade them for now. Prioritize finding an area where they teleport back to the surface. Belle, do you have any ideas?]


    She looked up at me, still in the crouched position, observing the artefact. ¡°It¡¯s going to be difficult locating any other magical energy with this thing right next to us, but I am almost certain I would be able to activate one once we have located it.¡±


    Ren narrowed her eyes out down the street. ¡°Once we are back on the rooftops, I might be able to pick up the traces of the beasts of burden again. The area they receive deliveries sounds like a decent location to start with.¡±


    I gave her a nod. That sounded reasonable to me. Once deliveries had been dropped off, they would need to return the caravans or vehicles back up to the surface, and doing that all in the same location would be the most efficient. A much better start than wandering blindly between battles.


    We set off, avoiding the dead end, in the opposite direction of the groups of molepeople trying to track us down. It wouldn¡¯t be like a group composed of five heroes would be difficult to find, but we would certainly be hard to catch. I had no doubt we could hold our ground and kill them all. Another fifty lives thrown away due to our greed was probably not the right call.


    Yet I didn¡¯t believe that was what was bothering Roxy.


    She had now put out her limbs, her super suit melted away up to just above the knees. Running barefoot didn¡¯t seem to bother her, and she helped us all get onto the rooftops with a short throw each. Given that I only had one hand at the best of times, constantly carrying things made me feel awkward and overburdened. At least with my drum mag, I was fully capable of fighting for a while.


    I took cues from the elf over which direction to travel. We hadn¡¯t really needed to make use of them previously, but she had excellent tracking skills. Then again, much like the rest of the group, she was really coming into her role as a hero once more. As much as it solidified us as a valid B-Rank team, I knew that we needed to push each other much further to get to A-Rank.


    With a roll, I landed over the next street on the next roof, cradling the cube in my chest as I performed the acrobatic action. That was probably a terrible idea, as the artefact seemed to like being that close to me. I¡­ wasn¡¯t sure why I knew that.


    Perhaps it could sense my own magical power. Either way, I was twice as keen to get back to the truck and offload this. While Belle had shown plenty of professional curiosity at the start, I couldn¡¯t help but notice she had kept her distance once we had started to move. Part of me wondered if I was carrying a bomb right now, but I was partially sure that Clara wouldn¡¯t put me in any immediate danger like that.


    As if she had heard my thoughts, the drone ahead of us chose this time to chime in.


    //Clara: Warehouse area just ahead.


    //Clara: Clear spaces for vehicle use, storage, and stables.


    //Clara: Lightly guarded.


    //Gunquake: Affirmative.


    My eyes went to Roxy, the super clearly reading the messages through her own STAR before she focused back on the route ahead without responding. I checked the others. Mostly looks of grim determination on their faces. People knowing they had a job to do and were fully committed to get it done. Of course, escaping back home was always more of a motivation than whatever you had to do going in.


    It was probably just that she had exerted her powers a bit too much to escape her cell and get through the guards to wherever she found the artefact.


    //Clara: Groups in pursuit are now several minutes behind.


    //Clara: Be mindful of that.


    We had a little breathing room, depending on how quickly the teleportation magic worked. Getting sent down here was near instant. Just a split second where we noticed the pulse of energy. Hopefully, the return journey was just as straightforward.


    Once we reached the last building before the open courtyard in the center of the warehouse district, I gave them a hand signal to stay put and lie low.


    Part of me wanted to put the cube down and stretch my hand out. But I didn¡¯t¡­ or couldn¡¯t. Instead, it was time for a checkup with Roxy.


    [Everything okay? You seem out of sorts.]


    Her fiery eyes turned to me, barely able to tear away from glancing down at the guards pacing about the warehouses. There was a hesitation where she was probably going to tell me she was fine, before some of her frozen expression melted away. ¡°It was just the fight to get the artefact. Took a lot out of me, but we¡¯ll debrief later, promise.¡±


    I stared for a moment, trying to read anything more into that, but I could not. On the surface, that was an acceptable response. Continuing was more important than the gritty details of what had irked her. I had my own assumptions, but those weren¡¯t helpful right now.


    [This is almost over.]


    The drone was already scouting the area just as soon as she had confirmed the position of the large group hunting us down. If we were wrong about this being the right place, then there was a chance we¡¯d have to fight. There was only so much running we could do, superheroes or not.


    Although the term ¡®hero¡¯ applied loosely to our current situation. Glancing down at the cube, I wondered if this would be worth the bloodshed we had caused. Not that I was really seeking justification. I knew what I was and had long made peace with the ease with which I killed. Clara hadn¡¯t even detailed what the artefact could do, or how it would benefit us. I just trusted her. It felt... powerful.


    //Clara: Five pairs of guards. Three are moving in a clockwise patrol, alternating between the front and rear of the warehouses.


    //Clara: The other two pairs are guarding one very specific building.


    //Clara: Something suspiciously similar to the room we entered through.


    That sounded like our best bet. It was the one to the northeast of our current location. Once we knew what we were looking for, it made the picture clearer. We didn¡¯t need Ren¡¯s enhanced vision to pick out two molepeople standing just outside the entrance of a wide open doorway into a darkened building.


    Should be simple enough.


    To our left was the closest warehouse. A good twenty feet taller than the building we were currently on, and over not only the gap of a street, but then a thick wall and second pathway beyond that. I raised an eyebrow at Roxy, even if she couldn¡¯t see it under my goggles and balaclava.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± She shook her head. ¡°With how I¡¯m feeling, I can¡¯t guarantee I¡¯ll be accurate enough.¡±


    Few of us could survive falls from great heights, so taking the side of caution felt appropriate. Going in guns blazing seemed like the obvious option, but my intuition was telling me they might have a failsafe to turn off the teleportation device if they knew for sure we were coming for it. Not just a way to switch it off¡ªbecause if they were competent, then that should have been done as soon as we broke out of jail¡ªbut them potentially destroying it to keep us trapped wasn¡¯t something worth risking.


    //Gunquake: We can see the two outside, confirm the position of the other two.


    We watched as the drone circled back around the courtyard, keeping out of sight of the guards making their way around. I really needed to convince her to get a drone with guns on it. Maybe a little rocket launcher.


    //Clara: Inside, behind cover. One on either side of the doorway.


    The two outside were as good as taken care of already. We had enough ranged damage and speed to take them out before they had even clocked we were here. The two on the inside were much more difficult, if only because they¡¯d notice their friends getting dropped. It might not be an issue¡ªbut again¡ªif they were waiting with a kill-switch for the device, then it was a risk.


    Not being able to use my other hand meant my grapple wasn¡¯t too useful. I furrowed my brow and held my gun-arm up, judging the distance between here and our target. Most of my ammunition wouldn¡¯t even get half the way there.


    [Roy, I¡¯m going to need you to take this grenade from my vest.]


    We had the tools to overcome most things. It just took a little planning. Something¡­ I was partially reluctant to admit I wasn¡¯t that great at. After all, I had been either a supportive super-soldier, or a self-destructive killer for hire previously. It was a miracle that I had made it this far. But I had, so I told them the plan.


    //Clara: Contact due in less than one minute.


    Overcharge hummed through my V-Force drive, and I broke a few rules. The energy source that powered my shotgun had been established as being potentially magical in nature, and I allowed it to be so. Whatever charge remained in my arcane crystals burned hot before petering out, the device in the side of my gun-arm thrumming and hissing with barely held-back power.


    I wasn¡¯t much for sniping. In the past, I kept most of my problems in the same room, making my forced weaponry best suited to coming up with a short and loud solution. Still, I had a little help from my friends.


    Belle touched the back of my elbow, enchanting my next shot with His powers. She stepped away as the green sheen settled around my barrel, and the elf then moved up behind me. Crouching slightly, she moved my arm by a few degrees, as if I were a siege cannon aiming to hit a precision target. It was close enough to the truth.


    Then I fired the Quake shot out, the blur of green behind the high-velocity round acting as a signal flare for the rest of us to move.


    Roy was gone already, blazing along the side of the warehouses. Beside me, Roxy hopped down to make a hole through the wall. I let my rappel sink down to the roof, expelling the expanding foam which solidified in a second. Belle grasped onto me as I slid down the wall to the street below¡ªsomething even more awkward while I held the artefact in a death-grip.


    Ren fired off an arrow just as the wall came down, most of the actual battle now obscured from me. Everything happened in a very quick sequence.


    I stepped through the rubble and out into the courtyard to survey the results of my shot. Another arrow flew overhead, impaling the second guard through the neck. He tried to clutch at it, but was having trouble doing much at all as my repeated V-Force shockwave pulsed through that building. His equal also lay dead, an arrow protruding from them.


    A figure emerged from the dim interior. Roy, one hand over his eyes, and the other waving us over.


    We didn¡¯t need much more encouragement than that. After my malady-imbued Quake shot had hit, the speedster had gone straight into the building and let off a flash grenade, doubling up on the stun already on them. It would have taken him barely two seconds to get to both, even if disorientated himself. Ren had easily taken out the two on the outside.


    As our feet struck the concrete, the six other guards in the area swarmed in to see what the commotion had been. Unfortunately, they fell in quick order. In the distance, I could hear the approaching horde intending to stop us.


    The Captain shook his head, eyes finally readjusting. ¡°Looks like you were right about a kill-switch. After the first vibration hit them, the dumbass dropped it. Thank fuck.¡±


    I shot a glance at Belle, her powers once again tipping the scales in our favor, before my eyes took in the darkened shelter.


    An empty warehouse, not unlike the room we had vanished from topside. Other than the scuffed floor from the animals and vehicles used to transport goods, this one was different in that it had a control panel.


    My brain ached, flickers of pain dancing around my nervous system, as I used Comprehend Languages to read the instructions on the panel. It was a simple thing with only four buttons on it, but acted more of a directory that you had to put a code in to get your intended destination.


    Without being able to understand the key on the side, we would have been shit out of luck. I pressed in a sequence of five buttons, the moleperson equivalent of a sticky note clearly stating the ground floor number pattern, as the others looked out at the horde pouring through the gates over the courtyard. A few short seconds and we¡¯d be in crossbow range, stuck in this little box.


    Belle raised her hand up, ready to cast the dome. The Captain had his fists up while Ren drew an arrow. Roxy still looked half asleep and regarded the looming guards impassively.


    Just as the whistle of the first volley sung through the air, the cube in my hand whispered a message that I did not understand.


    Then the Natural Disasters vanished.

 107 - Mirror Image

    I looked over at Roxy as the quake-wagon rolled across the wastelands. The teleportation had taken us to the place we had entered, and we had scrambled to our vehicles as quickly as possible. In the rear-view mirror as our tires kicked up clouds of dust, I had watched and waited for the molepeople to emerge, but we weren¡¯t pursued. Maybe they were cutting their losses.


    Now, with the artefact barely secured in the back of our vehicle, I wanted some answers - as there had been no conversation between us for the last ten minutes.


    [Time to open up.]


    Roxy blinked a couple of times before turning her eyes to me. She looked tired. ¡°I had a rough time of it down there,¡± she managed.


    Physically, other than the exhaustion, she looked fine. Hadn¡¯t taken too much damage, with her suit showing the brunt of it. Mostly caused by herself. Not knowing how she managed to grab the artefact, I was certain it wasn¡¯t as simple as knocking on a designated building and asking nicely.


    [No pressure. I¡¯m here when you are ready.]


    The super tilted toward the door, leaning her head against the window and closing her eyes. At first, I assumed she was just going to rest and be silent for a while, to the point where my muscles tensed up as she spoke due to the surprise.


    ¡°Being around you helps me feel better. I just need to process in silence for a bit. It¡¯s nothing dire, so don''t worry, Dubs.¡±


    [You ask the impossible, but I will remain resolute.]


    I caught the slightest hint of a smile at the side of her face before I returned my focus to the way ahead. In all fairness, I had an equally strange feeling rolling around the back of my mind¡­ but that was definitely because of the artefact itself.


    It had spoken to me. Or at least communicated in some manner. Magic had always been some mystical energy source up until this point, so I hadn¡¯t expected some degree of sentience to it. Clara was attempting to set up containment for it for when we returned, so I hadn¡¯t been able to pick her brains on the subject. If she was keeping it a secret, then I could only imagine the boost would be great, but not guaranteed.


    Nothing ever came that easily.


    The others all looked fine on the run to the vehicles, some manner of tiredness and relief at escaping the underground cavern clear on their faces. Any potential naysaying over the need for us to put ourselves at risk for such an unknown had been blown away after finding the World Government office and their stash of plans.


    Even ignoring what all that meant, I was drawn back to what Silhouette had said.


    He had known the Government had been there. I was eager to jump to the conclusion that he had been the one to kill them off. An equally likely and completely opposite truth might be that he was working with the Gov, but hadn¡¯t heard they had been killed. It was clear he didn¡¯t want us getting involved either way.


    I was hoping that finding out whether he was an ally or enemy from my past would have been a more simple process. Questions just gave rise to vague answers, a middling pot of unclear portents. I had a good feeling I¡¯d eventually find out the hard way.


    The silence, other than the rolling of the wagon over the rough terrain, was eventually punctuated by the ding of a message through my lens.


    //Clara: We are receiving comms from the League.


    //Clara: They want to see you tomorrow, Gunquake.


    //Dubs: Do you think they had eyes on us?


    //Clara: No, this is likely for induction as it is for you only.


    I exhaled, the filters in my re-breather spinning around as my eyes focused back on the way ahead. Still possible they wanted to just off me solo.


    [Looks like I¡¯m going to see the Director tomorrow.]


    ¡°No rest for the wicked,¡± the super replied idly, before turning her gaze over to me. ¡°Not about today, I hope?¡±


    I shook my head. While I didn¡¯t know for sure, what Clara said made some sense. If Silhouette had informed them of what we were up to, or if the League had other ways of tracking us, then they¡¯d be a lot more forceful than requesting I come visit the next day. As powerful as we were, if they dropped the S-Rank team on us, I doubt we¡¯d survive. Maybe even some of the A-Ranks.


    While my thoughts were trying to drag me toward what my meeting might actually entail, I was distracted, as I could sense Roxy¡¯s eyes still on me. I turned briefly to raise an eyebrow.


    Her first response was to sigh, before the energy and reluctance finally sunk out of her. ¡°I say that a lot of the time I love being strong¡­ and it¡¯s true. It¡¯s always meant safety and control, you know?¡± She pulled a face and looked out at the wasteland. ¡°Any annoyance or hurt over how people view me, or the comments from trolls online, that¡¯s only skin deep. At the end of the day, I can punch through walls and withstand gunshots. Who gives a fuck?¡±


    I let the silence after her statement linger, giving her the space she needed to vent.


    ¡°But¡­ tearing up that mole place¡­ I didn¡¯t feel like a strong hardass chick, or even a superhero. I felt like a monster.¡±


    [Due to your lack of control over your new powers?]


    Roxy shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s the thing, Dubs. I was fully in control. It was a willful choice to melt through my cell door and start killing anyone who attacked me. I¡¯ve been a hero for a while and seen plenty of criminals shit themselves when I turn up, but the look on the faces of some of those guards¡­¡± She sighed again.


    I understood it, but I didn¡¯t think relating to her really helped with her inner turmoil. Killing had come easily to her at first, but she¡¯d hit that wall of self-reflection. Something that gave her enough pause to realize what a danger she was.


    ¡°Am I a monster, Dubs?¡±


    [I won¡¯t sugarcoat it, Roxy. You hold in your hands a frightening amount of power, even though it¡¯s not fully realized. Depending on the choices you make, you have the potential to be a dangerous threat to all life in Goldarch and beyond, or a stalwart protector. The latter option will be much more difficult, mentally and emotionally, in the long run.]


    She narrowed her eyes at me. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you lose boyfriend points for not immediately reassuring me, asshole.¡±


    [I respect you too much to not be truthful with how I feel about it.]


    ¡°Alright.¡± Roxy smiled slightly and leaned her head back. ¡°Nice save. Thank you, Dubs.¡±


    [Perhaps I¡¯m also the last person you need validation from as well. It wasn¡¯t that long ago I was a hitman for hire. My moral compass is fucked.]


    ¡°At least that was a job, though. Right? You weren¡¯t killing people for the fun of it or just because you could.¡±


    [True.]


    I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. As much as I took pride in my work, it was just that - work. We were stretching the definition of that in our wasteland adventures, but everything had been for a point. As my mission at the hobgoblin forge had proved, I didn¡¯t need to kill. It wasn¡¯t a compulsion or something I was eager to do. Instead, murder was a solution closer be being a valid tool than it was for most people. Roxy included.


    ¡°Well,¡± she said, sighing once more. ¡°I don¡¯t want to make this a habit. Some¡­ normal-ass hero work would be a nice palette cleanser. Cuff some robbers or knock over a money laundering front. Feel like a good person.¡±


    [Is this where I¡¯m meant to earn boyfriend points by reassuring you that you are a good person?]If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°No need. I know I¡¯m a terrible bitch who is closer to a living nuke than a paragon of heroicism. One bad day from blowing my top and¡­ burning down a city block or some shit.¡±


    [You¡¯re kinda cute at least.]


    She shook her head and looked out the side window. ¡°Prick.¡±


    I could clearly see the smile on her face from the faint reflection on the glass. Part of me felt guilty for guiding her down this path. If I hadn¡¯t shown up, then she¡¯d just be miserable at the League, but have a simpler life. That said, she was happy being around her own team once again, and with having her career have a resurgence. A shame that it took this new and conflicting power to get her to that point, but it was just growing pains.


    Some time within the city limits might do us both some good. With the team rebranding and my actual reveal to the populace, I was sure we would be busy enough to wash away these worries we¡¯d been having. She had control when on duty, and the League wouldn¡¯t abide by us bloodying our hands with watching eyes around.


    ¡°I hope this artefact was worth it,¡± Roxy said, breaking the silence. ¡°It gives me the creeps.¡±


    A feeling we both shared. I was marginally sure that it spoke or communicated with me in some manner. Whatever magical energy it was filled with was uncomfortable, and I had my concerns over what Clara wanted to do with it. Once again, as if she could sense I was thinking about her, she sent a message across through my lens.


    //Clara: I would like to borrow Belle and yourself when you get back, Gunquake.


    //Clara: Perhaps tomorrow you can also pick up the material from the mining outpost.


    //Clara: I have sent over the molds to the forge for preparations.


    Things were really happening all at once. Once I had my own version of Sanguine stakes, I wasn¡¯t exactly sure what I¡¯d be using them for. Insurance, mostly. The time I first craved the hero-piercing bullets was from before I was so entangled with the League. Now relationships were more complex. I shifted a quick glance over to the super.


    [Have you thought about where we¡¯ll go for our date?]


    ¡°Extensively,¡± she replied, without hesitation. ¡°Our options are surprisingly thin, given that we will both be minor celebrities.¡±


    [Plus there''s taking out anything that involves eating.]


    Roxy shrugged. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t hold that against you. Restaurants and cliche shit would be cool, but it¡¯s not really us, you know? Our relationship has been a quick series of bursts forward, and I think the conflict has drawn us closer together.¡±


    [Trauma bound.]


    ¡°Deathforged,¡± she correct, rolling her eyes at my phrasing. ¡°We¡¯ve both changed since we first met, and I¡¯m pretty sure us becoming partners in heroics this week will be another step and change. I¡¯m fucking dreading it, if I¡¯m honest.¡±


    I nodded and checked the mirrors to make sure Ren and the others were still behind and doing fine. They were.


    [We¡¯re balancing on several different knife edges. Unfortunately, I think tying your fate to mine is going to be an unending series of trials and struggle.]


    ¡°Eh. At least the sex is good, right?¡± She rubbed at her hair, dried flakes of blood falling onto her suit as she waited for my response. I gave none. ¡°Cold bastard,¡± she eventually concluded. The super closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair, a smile on her face.


    Not that I disagreed or anything, I was just trying to trick existence into thinking I was neutral about it. The truth was, I was content. More than that. Happy. If reality got too strong a whiff of that, it¡¯d surely throw a spanner into my gears and mess me up. Perhaps that was just pessimism. More likely, part of me was just scared that this love could be taken away from me. Not every problem was a shotgun cartridge away from being solved.


    We were quiet for the rest of the way back to home base. Our adventure had been short and arduous, and the long drive just compounded the exhaustion. Clara had already given me instructions for where and how to store the artefact in the warehouse, and as much as I wasn¡¯t looking forward to handling it again, I didn¡¯t want it sitting around in the back of the wagon any longer than necessary.


    As I pulled up across the dry dirt to park up beside our buildings, the techie was already there¡ªher cybernetic eyes practically glowing with excitement.


    ¡°Such a shame I¡¯m not home tomorrow,¡± she started, in lieu of a proper greeting. ¡°I have so much work to do, Gunquake.¡±


    I grunted as I shut the door to my vehicle and looked back at the others pulling up.


    Roxy walked around to join me, a dull look on her face. ¡°Told the gang they can sit around and chill. We¡¯ll draw lots for taking turns in the shower.¡±


    Clara tutted and put her hands on her hips. ¡°Would certainly be more efficient if this was a harem, wouldn¡¯t it? Then you could¡­¡± she paused as the super placed a hand on her head.


    ¡°I¡¯m just going to ignore you, hun, as the alternative is twisting your little head off.¡±


    ¡°Having your hand in position ready certainly adds a convincing eloquence to your threat, sister.¡± The techie gave me a smile as she was released. ¡°Please move the artefact, Gunquake. If you could bring Belle as well, I want to try something with the mech.¡±


    [As you wish. You might as well count the two of us out for first showers then, Roxy.]


    The super gave me a nod and went to meet the other three emerging from their vehicle as I sighed and went to the back of the quake-wagon. I opened up the door and scowled at the mysterious cube. As much as I wanted to tell it not to try talking with me, I was in no hurry to seem like I was losing my mind. Ten toes down, I leaned forward and took a grip on the handle.


    It felt¡­ awkward. I could still feel the echo of magical energy within it, but it wasn¡¯t trying to reach into my mind. Yet, I held it at arm''s length. Followed the techie through into the larger warehouse, where a table had been prepared.


    Eying up the cases already open and ready to receive this object, I half considered asking Clara how or when she had the time to get all this ready.


    ¡°It will go to the workshop soon, but this table has wheels and being contained will be safer than having you lug it about back and forth.¡± Clara tilted her head and frowned. ¡°I probably should have brought this out to the vehicles, Gunquake, huh?¡±


    I placed the object down, the cube almost clicking into place perfectly to the open box that then folded up around it. Thick transparent windows gave a clear view inside on each flat surface, but the whole thing locked up with a hiss of compressed air.


    [Are you going to tell me what this is for yet?]


    Clara stared intently at the artefact for a few moments before turning her gaze up to me. ¡°Honestly, Gunquake? I¡¯m not sure. Every artefact is unique, and without knowing fully how this generates or activates the latent energy, putting it into a definite and concrete technical application is impossible. Before you think I sent you out on a wild chase after vague potential, I believe with my full heart that this will be important.¡±


    [It is a piece of the puzzle.]


    She grinned and nodded. ¡°Correct. I have a¡­ lofty vision and do not hold all the pieces. You just have to trust that the full picture will be worth the effort.¡±


    [If it plays a role in getting my new arm, then I¡¯d go through much worse. I trust you.]


    ¡°Thankfully, Gunquake, the rest of that process won¡¯t involve running bloody errands through the wastes. A lot of hard work and technical mastery on my end, and the hobgoblins pulling their weight¡­ even then, making a whole new arm is quite the feat for me.¡±


    I nodded and gestured to the workshop. No doubt the mech was waiting there for the next step in whatever she had planned.


    [You¡¯ve seen me out in the field, Clara. There¡¯s no chance I¡¯m switching to some off-the-shelf garbage cybernetics. Whatever you are designing, I want it. I have full confidence in your ability.]


    ¡°Please, Gunquake.¡± She smiled as she led me out of the warehouse. ¡°You¡¯ll make me blush. I already have two basic cyber-arms disassembled on the workbench, the blueprints of five others on my computer, as well as detailed measurements of your current specs.¡±


    [Are you sure you don¡¯t have any clones?]


    ¡°Believe me, Gunquake¡­¡± She gave me a glance and a coy smile. ¡°You¡¯d definitely know if I did.¡± Halfway towards the next building, we met up with Belle, who looked rather glum that she wasn¡¯t in line to get washed up anytime soon.


    ¡°You requested my services?¡± She raised an eyebrow at us both.


    ¡°A tale of runes and crystals,¡± Clara confirmed, as the three of us went through the door.


    Now with more space in the workshop thanks to the storage boxes moving to the warehouse, there was plenty of room around the inert mech for the three of us to stand down at one end of the building.


    The techie gave it a brief kick, her ire for the ancient magical automaton clear. ¡°While I am yet to master the runic spells that give this thing protection, and nowhere near close to understanding how it works at a core level, I am also tired of its presence. Dispel it, please.¡±


    I tilted my head to the side and looked at Belle¡ªwho just returned a shrug. Over to the side, one of the benches was covered with pieces of paper where notes and attempts at replicating the runes had been made. I was pretty sure that Comprehend Languages wouldn¡¯t give me any clue about what they meant, and it wasn¡¯t like her to give up. The metal itself was just more useful to us at this stage.


    If the hobgoblins were going to be forging or shaping the parts for my new arm, then that wasn¡¯t a simple or short process. The sooner they could get on it, the quicker I¡¯d have the custom tech.


    I held out my hand and felt warmth surge through me as I attempted Dispel. The mech resisted and fought back against it.


    ¡°Here.¡± Before I had the chance to vocalize my failed attempt, Belle was beside me with her hand on my arm. ¡°Try drawing on my crystal pack as well.¡±


    With a deep breath, I calmed and repeated the motions, this time pulling on whatever threads of power she could lend me. At first, the mech wasn¡¯t having it. Like a metal roof buckling beneath the weight of a snowstorm, I felt the magical energy twist and crumple away before dissipating. I shook the pain away from my hand as I looked down at it, before then up to the techie to confirm.


    She wasn¡¯t even watching, but was tapping at an instrument of some kind she had withdrawn from her outfit.


    [Everything okay?]


    ¡°Perfect¡­¡± She scowled at it before looking over at us as if she had forgotten we were still there. ¡°Perfect. More data collected. Now I just need to ply Rockslide into breaking a leg or two off and see if she can melt it.¡±


    ¡°She got first lot for showering,¡± Belle said, wrinkling up her face. ¡°Which was¡­ debatable, but none of us were about to argue. You saw how she looked.¡±


    [It was a rough day. Thank you for going along with it.]


    She nodded and wiped her hand on her robes. ¡°Certainly more involved than what the League usually wants from me¡­ although that might change soon.¡±


    Even more than our double lives as heroes and cleaners for the League, as well as our adventures on the side, we were about to kick up more hornets'' nests with the other surprise still sitting in the Quake-wagon.


    [Let¡¯s see what they say when I bring them the World Government documents tomorrow.]

 108 - The New Guy

    I ran my fingers along the edge of the suitcase as I sat idly in the waiting room to meet Director Kingston.


    What remained of yesterday had passed by in a muted haze. Once we had all cleaned up and settled down with some drinks and food, the sun had swung around the sky like it was in a rush to get it over with. The usual jovial energy that surrounded us had been absent - quiet contemplation and recovery filling that space instead.


    We¡¯d seen the trio off, and Roxy and I retired to bed. Although she reassured me she was feeling better, I could still tell the switch into being a mercenary group for the League itched at the back of her mind. After a good sleep, she had seemed in better spirits this morning¡ªif not grumpy about being left alone while Clara went to her education and I went to HQ for this very meeting.


    As if rounding off my train of thought perfectly, the door ahead of me clicked open to signal the Director was ready for me. I sighed and stood from the chair. Despite being sure that this was going to be business as normal, I was almost disappointed in myself for not accepting Roxy¡¯s offer of having her hiding out on a nearby building in case she had to step in.


    Perhaps I was feeling a little too trigger happy today.


    I stepped through the entrance and into the meeting room I had been in last time¡ªthe one with the various screens showing hero statistics and marketing figures.


    ¡°Gunquake,¡± the man greeted me, standing up from behind his desk. ¡°Thanks for coming in.¡±


    Not that I had much of a choice.


    [Of course. It is great to see you once more.]


    He smiled and gestured for me to sit. ¡°We are fast becoming familiar faces, that is for certain. Not normal for heroes of any Rank, but I¡¯m sure by now we both know things are beyond normal in several ways.¡±


    I did not respond, but sat on the chair as the door clicked closed. Instead of sitting himself back down, his eyes went to the suitcase that I had placed on my lap.


    ¡°Miguel confirmed that you didn¡¯t bring me a bomb or anything dangerous.¡± He drummed his fingers across the top of his desk. ¡°Note taking isn¡¯t common during induction, but I¡¯m sure you have a good reason for bringing so much paperwork with you.¡±


    [How secure are we here?]


    Kingston tilted his head, and the screens around the room flickered off. Mirroring one of our prior meetings, a green sheen ran down the walls. With nothing but a nod to tell me this was as secure as it would get, I leaned forward and placed the suitcase on his desk.


    I was comforted that he did his own safety checks¡ªsome manner of spell or skill using finger signals to run over the suitcase before allowing his curiosity to dive in. Even with Miguel being able to read what I had inside to some degree, there would surely be traps that could be set that seemed mundane even through detection.


    Catches on the side popped. The Director lifted up the lid, his brow furrowing in seeing the mess of dirtied and crumpled paper. Aside from the sound of pages being moved out and placed back down, the room was deadly silent. I wondered if there were any groceries I could pick up to cook something nice for Roxy later.


    ¡°Where did you find all this?¡± he eventually asked, his eyes narrowing sharply at me.


    [Doing some team-building. It¡¯s fascinating what you can accidentally trip over out in the wasteland.]


    He shook his head slightly and lifted a piece of paper up. ¡°The question was mostly rhetorical as the delivery route written here leaves no guesswork as to where you got this from. You do me a disservice, as I want to know every detail, yet respect your privacy, as this is the exact kind of work we need from you and the group.¡±


    [It was more luck than detective work. Looked as though they¡¯d been ousted from their position there a while ago.]


    The Director held up the dull crystal, turning it to observe how the different angles picked up the light.


    [Same kind of crystals that were being used at the pyramid to power the weaponry of the corrupted. Based on what magic sense I have, that one is inert.]


    He nodded without saying anything, returning it to the suitcase and briefly flicking through a few other pages before sighing deeply. Suitcase closed again, he drummed his fingers on it while looking up in thought.


    After a few moments, his eyes came back down to me, and he smiled. ¡°I honestly did not expect results from your alternative role for a while, Gunquake. Certainly not¡­ something this valuable and informative. If you can keep this up, there will be plenty of performance bonuses coming your way. I am choosing to trust you and remain ignorant about why you and the Disasters were at this place. If it was as beneficial to you as this is to the League, then we are both winners.¡±


    [Only time will tell.]


    ¡°Indeed.¡± The Director now sat down and leaned back in his chair. More comfortable than I usually saw him, but there was clearly a lot going on behind his eyes. ¡°Here I was about to walk you through the droll process of becoming the hero that you are, and you put this surprise on my desk.¡±


    I considered telling him that the usual surprises I brought people were a lot less pleasant¡ªunless you liked the taste of blood and smell of gunpowder¡ªbut that seemed counter-productive to the reason I was here.


    [My disability makes it difficult to be a kiss-ass, but I hope this helps show how dedicated to the role I am.]


    ¡°If you and the team put the same amount of effort into your hero work, then I see you rising up the Ranks in no time.¡± Kingston glanced over at the blank screens as he rubbed his index fingers together. ¡°Off-the-record work can only receive off-the-record rewards, I¡¯m afraid. For now, let¡¯s say I owe you one.¡± The glimmer in his eyes told me that the amount of sway he had in the organization made that more than just a casual favor in my pocket.


    [Appreciated. No doubt there might be information in there that will earn us more work in the wastelands.]


    ¡°You haven¡¯t read it fully, or made your own copy?¡±


    I shook my head. Partially true, at least. I definitely hadn¡¯t read through it, nor allowed Clara to digitize it. The techie had read it herself at some point; I was sure. While I wasn¡¯t keen to draw too much attention from the World Government, it would be foolish to pass on the information blindly.


    [We skimmed it, but it looked beyond our pay grade.]


    ¡°There is certainly some nuance to it where you don¡¯t have as much of the picture as we do.¡± The Director placed his hands together in thought. ¡°However, unless it¡¯s for an emergency, we won¡¯t be sending you out to the wastes too soon. We want you in the city. Show face and build your reputation. Soak in the job and what is expected of you. Once you and the Natural Disasters are settled and stable, then the moonlighting will begin.¡±


    I hated the sound of that. Well, maybe that was a bit of an extreme reaction. I wasn¡¯t looking forward to the ¡®show¡¯ part of being a hero. The publicity. Being known. It made me want to squirm.


    ¡°We have the others coming in over the next few days,¡± he continued. ¡°Outfit changes and the like. Oh, that¡¯s where we¡¯re off to next.¡± Kingston stood from his chair and the green faded from the walls, each of the monitors flickering back into life one after the other. He gave each of them a quick glance before shooting me a smile and gesturing to the door.


    I followed, but my brain was elsewhere. Which was the best store for imported vegetables? No matter how Roxy was feeling, I was sure hitting her with some hearty comfort food would win her over. While the Director led me through corridors and past rooms, I mostly ignored the scenery¡ªat least, until he stopped.


    ¡°Ah. A slight detour. You probably don¡¯t know many others in the League, but socialization is important, as you may occasionally work alongside some of your equals.¡± He turned the handle and took me into a small meeting room.


    Five figures were sitting around a table, clearly in the midst of some argument¡ªbut had immediately ceased on seeing the Director enter.


    ¡°Sorry for interrupting, everyone. Just showing Gunquake around. He¡¯s the new hero joining Rockslides team.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    The tension was so thick in the air that you¡¯d need a chainsaw to make a dent in it. I didn¡¯t need the exposition that followed to guess that this was the B-Rank team just above us. The ones we were soon to knock down if we got our act together.


    ¡°Gunquake, this is the Homegrown Heroes. No doubt you¡¯ll cross paths with them in the future to get better acquainted. Unfortunately, we¡¯re already behind schedule, so there¡¯s no time to chat.¡±


    Thankfully, the group looked fine with that. Despite being on the same side, the glares they gave me felt more like a target over my head. An odd bunch, even more than my own group. One guy looked like a large beetle. Two others had plant-themes going on¡­ although, now that I thought about it, most seemed to be nature based.


    [Hello.]


    Before I could think of any platitudes to say, or consider how many of them I could kill, the Director ushered me back out of the door. He shot me a sly smile as he closed it, and we continued down the hall.


    While I was keen to leave that encounter far behind me, it turned out that he had some ulterior motives for popping that brief socially awkward event on me.


    ¡°Not everyone has your professional guile, Gunquake. As soon as we left the room, the Homegrown Heroes immediately started talking about you. They should know the walls have ears here.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow and glanced back down the hall.


    [Nothing good, I¡¯m sure.]


    ¡°While the League promotes cohesion and support for our heroes to be all part of the same unit overall, splitting into groups is a natural human trait.¡± He gave me a slight shrug. ¡°Even amongst those who are superhuman. I¡¯m sure I don¡¯t need to convince you to stay out of the ¡®office politics¡¯.¡±


    I gave him a nod. The way I solved problems wouldn¡¯t go down well with the culture they were trying to maintain. Might give us a shortcut up the ladder, though.


    [They see us as a threat, then?]


    Kingston shook his head. ¡°They don¡¯t know of you, Rockslide¡¯s lava powers, or the team rebranding. Most of their snide comments are about a potential relationship between the pair of you, how doomed your group seems¡­ other petty things that you needn¡¯t worry about.¡±


    He was right there. Most of that team were green enough without the jealousy. I hadn¡¯t considered the more mundane side of being amongst the number of heroes under the League¡¯s purview. Now I juggled with the potential irony of wanting to deal with social problems with violence when I was a known charismatic and affable character at heart. A living juxtaposition.


    [I take it the League acts as an intermediary between any disputes between heroes?]


    With a nod, we stopped again outside a pair of double doors. The sign beside it said ¡®Fitting Room B¡¯. ¡°Correct, although you may be surprised to know that despite how catty and territorial some heroes can be, spats never make it very far before we help resolve them.¡±


    For several reasons, I was sure. A civil war between powerful groups within the League would be dire for public image¡­ not to mention the money side of things. Ensuring the supers were babysat and content also kept them on the right side of the law. No doubt there was a lot of manpower that went into running things in Goldarch, so I understood why the World Government putting a thumb on the scale would have the League¡¯s back up.


    I was starting to believe I might be in over my head.


    [Understandable. I hope to provoke no issues during my tenure here.]


    Director Kingston wavered slightly, a reply waiting on his lips, but he dismissed what he was about to say and instead gave me a smile. ¡°Excellent. First up is your outfit reveal.¡± He turned the handle and stepped inside the room. ¡°I''m afraid it¡¯s not exactly much of a surprise as we¡¯ve gone for what you¡¯re already wearing, for the most part.¡±


    The room was rather small, but well lit by sections of the back wall glowing a bright blue. In the center was a mannequin wearing similar slacks, tactical gear, and trench-coat as I was. In fact, if it weren¡¯t for the lack of gun-arm and gas mask, it would be like looking in the mirror. Beside the raised clone of me was a short man with neat blonde hair and sharp eyes.


    ¡°Madame apologizes for not being present,¡± he said, giving us a slight bow. ¡°She is unwell, but hopes to return tomorrow for the rest of the¡­ Natural Disaster''s outfit changes.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Keiran. She has our well wishes for a speedy recovery. Could you do the honors of running through Gunquake¡¯s detailing?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Director.¡± Keiran gave me a smile which had no warmth to it, and adjusted his waistcoat to bring out a small metal extendable pole. Once certain that he held my attention, he pointed it at the mannequin. ¡°Although it is not common practice, we have stuck with Gunquake¡¯s current ensemble as his basic look. Madame insisted that the authenticity of your look gave your role the sufficient gravity and wow-factor that the League desire, as well as being tactically competent.¡±


    I nodded politely. It would be easy to thank my bardic past for my nose for fashion, but I had mostly just picked things that looked cool or tactical that matched my color scheme. If anything, I was just glad the League didn¡¯t want to stick me in something gaudy or overt.


    ¡°While we can¡¯t make you entirely bullet-proof, we have increased the protection almost tenfold from your current gear.¡± The man stepped around the figure, pointing at several areas. ¡°The trench-coat is blast resistant, and the slacks, undershirt, and balaclava are made from a similar material to regular super-suits with impact resistance. Your tactical vest has plates in that will absorb up to medium caliber gunfire.¡±


    [How about protection from magic or other super powers?]


    Keiran pulled a face as if I had asked if it had a cotton candy dispenser built in. ¡°The variety and disparity between powers makes it nigh useless to specifically outfit yourself with anything that might only be a hindrance and waste of materials. As your role is geared towards stopping criminals, this should be sufficient.¡±


    The Director nodded along and crossed his arms. ¡°That is correct. In the unlikely scenario you have to fight a villain, you have more to worry about than what material you are wearing. That¡¯s not to say you¡¯ll be without assistance, however¡­ once you¡¯re done here, we¡¯ll go explore that.¡±


    [I have no further questions about my durability.]


    ¡°Madame has increased your carrying capacity slightly, but otherwise your tactical gear is the same¡ªjust a few degrees of increased quality. You¡¯ll find that your equipment is a better fit, and has some minor adjustments to make it easier to put on considering your¡­¡± he gestured with his stick toward my gun-arm.


    [Thank you, I appreciate the consideration. May I ask how my outfit compares to the rest of the team¡¯s?]


    He shot the Director a glance before shaking his head. ¡°Outfits that have not been revealed are private and the League¡¯s property. I would not even be able to give hints as to if they even share a similar color theme. A superhero¡¯s suit defines them not only in the public¡¯s eye, but is also a reflection of their self.¡±


    ¡°Very personal,¡± Kingston added. ¡°A lot of work goes into making sure the suits are unique and fitting for the super. We won¡¯t get you to try it on as we have enough media of you looking just like that already. The others will need to do a brief photoshoot for when they go public.¡±


    [Interesting.]


    Or more accurately, horrifying. Part of me wanted to rebel from this attempted domestication. To live free and wild. The stakes as a lone wolf were just too dire at this stage. I¡¯d be part of the circus if it meant the big top kept me safe and dry from the storms of my past life.


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk publicity later. Thanks, Keiran.¡±


    ¡°My pleasure, Director.¡± The young man gave him a bow as I was taken out of this room.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get five full outfits delivered in the next couple of days,¡± he said, pulling the door closed once we were back out in the hallway. ¡°Wear and tear are natural, but we ask that you try not to ruin them too quickly. The labor and material costs are a deal higher than whatever military grade equipment you¡¯ve been getting.¡±


    [Speaking of which, I assume our next stop it tech or weaponry related?]


    ¡°Correct, although that might be something of a disappointment as well. Ammunition and grenades are at your disposal as and when needed. Utility items too, much like you have been using already. For your Rank, there isn¡¯t much else we can offer.¡±


    We walked in silence for a while, passing a couple of workers carrying boxes. Despite there not being a great deal of information, I felt rather muddled. The process itself was exhausting even if little was expected from me but to nod along with the explanations. Plus, I was unable to decide which meat to pair with the vegetables for later.


    [No force-fields or laser reflecting shields then.]


    ¡°In all honesty, Gunquake, having your own personal tech assigned to you will work out better long term than any gadgets we could throw at you. The lab tells me Miss Clara is one of our brightest and most inventive technicians, so I expect good things from your pairing.¡±


    A force-field would still be nice.


    He wasn¡¯t entirely wrong, however. For a fledgling hero, I had many things giving me a boost up the ladder from the start. The close relationship with a technical genius. An even closer one with a powerful superhero. The trust and backing of a full team which I had weaseled my way into. An underhand deal with one of the League¡¯s top men who would look the other way when I slipped back into my old ways.


    All the grenades I could possibly throw.


    [Smoke and Flash have been very powerful for me up until now. Should I worry about forcing a meta in the criminal underworld where they¡¯ll all start having counters to that?]


    A wry smile peaked at the corners of his mouth. ¡°No. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re thinking about that sort of thing, though. It will take a while before your methods saturate through to your targets. In fact, your workload will adjust to ensure that it doesn¡¯t happen. I¡¯m sure this is all overwhelming for you, but you¡¯ve repeatedly shown you have the right mentality for your role.¡±


    That and enough experience in seeing how much I could survive skirting the edges of death. It paid continued existence to be mindful of this sort of thing.


    [I¡¯m certainly intrigued over what you might be using me for to start with.]


    ¡°Ah.¡± His smile widened. ¡°A couple more dull stops, and then I¡¯ll take you somewhere to discuss your first mission as Gunquake, the hero.¡±


    Somehow, my gun-arm itched at this thought. It was enough to completely distract my brain as we walked around, going up and down a few floors. I met the identical twins who ran the laboratory. Other than gushing about Clara and eyeing up my cybernetics with curiosity, it was just a curtesy meeting. Same with my publicist, Joy. I wouldn¡¯t be interacting with her directly at any point, but she would be running the marketing side of all the Natural Disaster members.


    Normally I would have met Stacy, who would continue to be my manager, but I had already - due to my brief stint as a sidekick-to-be. Instead, the penultimate stop on my induction was the clinic. They gave me a basic checkup, which was more to set a baseline for my current health rather than to be deterministic of anything.


    Finally, we returned to the Director¡¯s office.


    It had taken a couple of hours, and I had done nothing but be agreeable and walk about. Exhausting. I was glad to see that the suitcase was still exactly where it had been left. No doubt with Miguel controlling the doorways throughout the building, there would be nobody who could step in to steal it. Well, maybe one person.


    ¡°Right, Gunquake.¡± Kingston walked around his desk to sit down. ¡°The first week or two of your debut is the most important, so alongside the team reveal we want to have you sweeping up some trouble to get face time and earn some points for the local communities.¡±


    That sounded like something up my alley. I was hungry to know more. Something familiar.


    ¡°Tell me, Gunquake. What do you know about the Five Eyes gang?¡±

 109 - Steamed

    I let the question sit for a few seconds. What did I know about the Five Eyes gang? The answer was, of course, relatively straightforward¡­ the issue was what would be appropriate to divulge to present company.


    As I maintained eye contact with the Director, he waited patiently for my response with an expression just as neutral as my own. Rather unfair of me, as only my eyes behind the green tinted goggles were visible, but my poker face held steadfast all the same.


    [I know that Rockslide arrested a few of them and they held a grudge against her.]


    Director Kingston steepled his fingers together and he regarded me with slightly more intensity. ¡°Did she tell you that?¡±


    [No. The wizard pretty much told me before I blew a hole through his chest.]


    He nodded, and his expression didn¡¯t change. ¡°I imagine it would have been difficult to give you that information after the fact.¡±


    [At the time I wasn¡¯t that invested in helping Rockslide out, but they were in my yard being a nuisance. Before I had my vocalizer, I did most of my diplomacy via my gun-arm.]


    ¡°Something that often works in your favor. Is that your only interaction with the gang?¡±


    [I also murdered the other four villains in their group.]


    Surprisingly, the Director didn¡¯t budge a millimeter. I had a feeling that he probably knew a lot more than he was willing to give up, otherwise he wouldn¡¯t have asked me about the gang. Whether this was a ploy to see how honest I would be with him or if there was an alternate explanation remained to be seen.


    After a few seconds of silence, he gave me a short nod and placed his hands on the table. ¡°We weren¡¯t entirely sure, but had a feeling you were involved. Villain groups don¡¯t just turn up dead under our watch.¡±


    [Contract. I figured it might have been a test through the League using Boss as a middleman.]


    ¡°No. While the results are¡­ interesting, we wouldn¡¯t have put you in that much danger. The fact you were sent against a whole group and are still here in one piece is impressive.¡±


    I was certain that Clara might have a dimmer view of the results, given that she scooped my ruined body out of a ditch to make sure I didn¡¯t die. That said, I had gotten pretty lucky despite sticking my neck out somewhere it didn¡¯t belong.


    [They weren¡¯t expecting me, so I had the pleasure of fighting them one at a time. Was your question solely for fact-finding reasons?]


    Director Kingston gave me a slight smile. ¡°Your criminal actions are all wiped clean, but it is beneficial for us to put a lid on that case. We do not execute villains, even the worst of them¡­ and the Five Eyes were far from the worst - but what has been done is done.¡± He adjusted his position in the chair and pulled a folder out from the side. ¡°The reason why I ask is that they weren¡¯t entirely independent.¡±


    [They had someone pulling the strings?]


    The man grunted. ¡°Not¡­ exactly.¡± Silence followed, save for the sound of turning paper. Once he was satisfied he had the right pages in front of him, his eyes came back up to regard me. ¡°There have been talks of some of the villains grouping together to form their own¡­ organization in Goldarch.¡±


    [A League of Villains?]


    While he didn¡¯t immediately confirm this, the way he winced when I said it was like I had poked him with a sharp stick.


    ¡°Luckily, most villains are too corrupt and disorganized to put anything solid together, but steps are being made. There¡¯s someone who was planning on using the Five Eyes to cement some of the foundations.¡±


    It would probably be a bad time to bring up the fact that it sounded like the League had problems both within the city, as well as outside of it. I was happy enough to be the sharp end of a solution aimed toward the mutants and others the World Government were ushering our way, but babysitting villains in the city sounded outside my wheelhouse.


    Oh, I should pick up a cheese wheel later too.


    [Are they looking for revenge?]


    ¡°They blame the League for the deaths of the gang, despite it not being something we do. There is certainly a lot of boiling blood and gnashing teeth going on in the shadows, I assure you.¡± Kingston turned one of the pages over and pushed it towards me. ¡°The reason I am bringing you in on this loop now is because your hero work might put you at odds with some of this unofficial group.¡±


    I took the page in my hand and ran my eyes over the words. In some ways, I didn¡¯t blame the villains. The League of Heroes maintained a balance between people with powers, and it was one-sided. Naturally, it leaned toward putting the law abiding side as the dominant ones, but I couldn¡¯t fault those underfoot for wanting to fight back and find their own way to live. If it wasn¡¯t for what I could provide for the League, then I knew which side of the line I¡¯d be put.


    [So this¡­ Lord X is the one in charge? I assume then we¡¯re looking at potential hits on heroes, bribes and blackmail to switch sides, criminal gangs joining forces to take greater swathes of the city?]


    The Director gave me another wry grin. ¡°Shame there¡¯s only one of you, Gunquake. Some of the other Directors downplay both the World Government meddling and the increase in criminality due to Lord X. They¡¯re too settled in thinking everything will be fine and that we have perfect control. A realist like yourself is difficult to come by within these walls.¡±


    Perhaps I understood how he saw me a little more now. Why I had been given the red carpet despite the circumstances. I was the wolf in sheep¡¯s clothing. I knew how villains and criminals would think, and what was possible. I could do the grim task of erasing those threats if necessary.


    [It is a mistake to assume your enemy is incompetent. If anything, I would expect downtrodden villains to be more energized and motivated to succeed than most of the coddled heroes you have under your wing.]


    ¡°My thoughts exactly.¡± He clicked his fingers and exhaled, deflating into his chair on hearing me validating some long held frustrations. ¡°The others don¡¯t understand that the status quo is difficult to maintain because people¡ªat a base level¡ªare chaotic. It only takes one madman to rock the boat. If the board of Directors believe we are untouchable because of the S-Rank heroes, then¡­ well, that¡¯s putting all the eggs in one basket.¡±


    [So you want me to keep my eyes open for Lord X or the League of Villains machinations and put a stop to them?]


    ¡°Given your history, I¡¯d rather it was just reported to the League. Lord X is currently designated as an A-Rank villain, but they have been in hiding long enough that things could have changed. I¡¯d rather you didn¡¯t die so soon into your employment.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    [Especially after getting me those new clothes.]


    And all the grenades.


    ¡°You¡¯re a valuable asset, Gunquake. Not only for your experience, knowledge, and capabilities, but also your connections with the Natural Disasters. While you have my full support, I¡¯d steer well clear of Director Greyham. You haven¡¯t met him before, but he thinks engaging with you is a mistake and would rather have you out in an unmarked grave in the wasteland.¡±


    [I have nothing to say in response to that, without sounding threating. Since we are keeping this an open working relationship, perhaps I could ask you a question?]


    ¡°Be my guest, Gunquake.¡± He leaned forward as I passed him the sheet of paper back. "I will be honest with you, as you have me."


    [You took my blood and saw that I had Advanced capabilities. Do I have a superpower or anything else that you could see?]


    Director Kingston raised an eyebrow and sighed.


    <hr>


    My brow was furrowed all the way to the quake-wagon, through my shopping trip to the nearest supermarket, and for most of the way back home. The time spent at the League was¡­ well; I wasn¡¯t sure if informative was the word for it. I could get whatever ammunition I needed, and my outfit would change very little. There was another threat hiding in the city that I¡¯d need to look out for, but other than that, nothing had really evolved.


    I pulled up beside the workshop, a small cloud of dust wafting past the vehicle as I stopped. Roxy was out in the garden, sitting on one of the deckchairs. My scowl melted away as I popped the door and stepped out to walk over to her.


    She looked tired, wearing some loose shorts and a tank top, covered in sweat. As I approached, she lifted her head and gave me a sour pout.


    ¡°This power is balls, Dubs. If I were a dude, I could run around in nothing but a speedo and really max out my lava bullshit.¡±


    I stood and rubbed the side of my head with the barrel of my shotgun.


    [Perhaps the lava obscures you enough to not appear too lewd?]


    ¡°Nah.¡± She leaned back on her palms and wrinkled up her nose. ¡°I tried it, and I very clearly have lava nips.¡±


    [Prove it.]


    ¡°Fuck you.¡± The super smiled and gave the deckchair a pat for me to sit. ¡°How was the League shit? I figured it would either be super boring or they¡¯d try to murder you.¡±


    I sat down beside her and relaxed as she leaned her head on me.


    [You shouldn¡¯t put that out into the world. Much closer to the first assumption. I got to meet the heroes one place above us as well.]


    ¡°Oof, awkward. They aren¡¯t our biggest fans, even before we started fighting on the rankings.¡± Roxy fidgeted slightly. ¡°Something, something I used to drink way too much.¡±


    [Say less. I¡¯ll murder them all.]


    She sighed. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t put that out into the world. It feels more real now, though¡ªright? Being a hero and everything.¡±


    [It does.]


    It did. While the day had been mostly going through the motions, I was all but an actual superhero in the eyes of those that ran Goldarch. Sure, they had to make a show of my appearance so that the public knew me¡­ but I saw how people looked at me in the supermarket. Selling me as a villain would be a lot easier.


    [I also found out what my test said.]


    ¡°Oh?¡± Roxy sat up away from me and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Do you secretly have a superpower?¡±


    [No. Nothing surprising on there, really. Well, aside from one thing I had suspected, but the League didn¡¯t know at the time.]


    Her eyebrows raised in tandem. ¡°Don¡¯t keep me in suspense, Dubs.¡±


    [I have¡­ relatives.]


    ¡°No shit? Is that¡­ are we talking Silhouette?¡±


    I nodded. Not exactly a surprising revelation when Kingston had put the cards out on the table, but something about making that a concrete reality had me feeling strange. I had no information about my prior life before adulthood. However we became super soldiers, Silhouette was at least an actual brother to me. Whether the rest of the squad was direct family wasn¡¯t something the Director knew or could tell me.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to need a bigger garden if we¡¯re going to have family hanging out here as well.¡± She grinned and gave me a pat on the leg. ¡°I worked up quite the hunger practising my power while you were out. Join me in the kitchen?¡±


    [I can do you one better than that - I brought some groceries on the way home to cook you something.]


    Roxy bit her lower lip. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever been excited about domestic life before, Dubs. That¡¯s your fuckin¡¯ superpower.¡±


    Perhaps it was. Part of me had hoped that the Director would reveal something¡­ like I had exceptional luck or something strength related to survivability. Instead, I remained a gathering of different minor powers, and my dice rolling was a streak slowly bouncing toward an inevitable snake-eyes. A pessimism that I wasn¡¯t able to hold on to once I met the super back in the kitchen.


    While the room filled with the heat and smells of cooking, she sat on one of the stools and gave me doe eyes and a wide smile the entire time. It was nice seeing her in a better mood than yesterday. I told her about the Five Eyes and Lord X, to which she was thankful the League didn¡¯t hold the murder of the gang against me. A potential villain organization gave her some brief concern, but it soon melted away. She also didn¡¯t see it as much of a threat.


    Knowing what I did about how the city was running, I could understand that. Dropping the S-Rank heroes on any real threat would stamp out the embers of rebellion amongst the underworld. Still, I was pretty well-versed in reading people, and I trusted Director Kingston when he said this was a big deal.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t get changed into something more comfortable,¡± Roxy said, taking me out of my idle thoughts.


    [I have more work to do after eating.]


    She grunted, knowing that I didn¡¯t mean what she was currently imagining. ¡°Picking up that ore from the mutants? Can I call shotgun?¡±


    [Sure.]


    While the outpost wasn¡¯t a huge fan of her, I would appreciate the company. I wasn¡¯t about to admit it out loud, but the prospect of my inevitable unveiling to the general public was¡­ something that felt uncomfortable. With Kingston and the Natural Disasters, I had the best support I could ask for - but after years of hiding in the shadows, this final step out into the light had the lingering threads of my old life trying to hold me back.


    I dished up the meat and vegetables, only partially envious of the super.


    ¡°Oh, Dubs,¡± she said, taking in the steam rising from her plate. ¡°This is perfect. Reminds me of home¡­ which is comforting with how odd I¡¯ve felt since yesterday.¡±


    [It¡¯s almost as though that was the intent when I was deciding what to cook for you.]


    Roxy stood up and leaned over her food to plant a kiss on my re-breather. ¡°You¡¯re a sweet motherfucker. It¡¯s going to be nice to have some downtime for a few days before the shit hits the fan.¡±


    [You don¡¯t think something dire will crop up on a day-to-day basis?]


    ¡°Don¡¯t even, ass.¡± She sat back down and lifted up her fork. ¡°Most superhero work is boring, so get used to living through some dull weeks.¡±


    I didn¡¯t believe that for a second. Either she was avoiding reality to remain happy for at least the rest of the day, or she had forgotten all the loose ends dangling around us. Silhouette and my past. The World Government rousing up animosity in the wastelands. Lord X bringing together the villains in the city to rise up against the League.


    Probably a few things I had forgotten. That said, looking into her fiery eyes full of joy... it was difficult to care about all that right at this moment.


    [Bring on the boredom. I¡¯m sure we can make our own entertainment.]


    ¡°Just you wait.¡± She gave me a wink before digging into her food.


    //Clara: I¡¯ll be home late today.


    //Clara: Captain is currently at the League for his meeting.


    //Clara: Rockslide, yours is tomorrow morning.


    //Roxy: Fantastic. Thanks, gremlin.


    //Clara: How was yours, Gunquake?


    //Dubs: Rather boring, no new tech to speak of.


    //Clara: That won¡¯t do. Let me call them.


    ¡°That won¡¯t end well,¡± Roxy grumbled, her eyes moving back away from her intangible STAR chat. ¡°Oh, once we¡¯re public, there¡¯s this place the three of us should go.¡±


    [Oh?]


    She wiggled her fork at me. ¡°Nothing crazy. There¡¯s a park I really like, we can have an odd throuple picnic.¡±


    [I look forward to it. I¡¯ll go freshen up and get the quake-wagon ready.]


    ¡°Sure. I love you, Dubs.¡±


    My feet paused at the doorway, and I looked back at her.


    [I love you too.]


    In all honesty, I didn¡¯t really need to freshen up. Yet, I went up to the bathroom all the same, and closed the door. Instead, I just looked at myself in the mirror. Same as I had been for¡­ weeks? Gauging the passage of time was difficult when we were constantly at odds with everything.


    Even though I was the same, I felt different. As i flexed my shotgun arm in the mirror, my brow furrowed. The more my past had been uncovered, the more awkward my built-in weapon felt. With the amnesia it was easy to accept this was how I was. The itch of knowing I had a hand before made the lack of it more of a thought at the front of my mind. I was eager for Clara to finish her design.


    The chamber clicked back and forth and the V-Force drive hummed into life before fading away once more.


    No, it was still a part of me. I just needed patience. One day I would have another opposable thumb and perhaps even a mouth that could eat. Through Clara¡¯s inventions and the League¡¯s protection, I had a future.


    I unclipped the clasps over the canister in my neck.


    Cyborg or not, I¡¯d keep rolling those dice and keep winning for as long as I could.

 110 - Flip Flop

    Despite my mood wavering back and forth over how I felt about my near future, the rest of the day went by without issue.


    The drive over to the mutant outpost was uneventful, some calm contentedness filling the quake-wagon as we made our way to pick up the mining materials. Roxy seemed a lot more comfortable with everything that revolved around the League and my step into heroism. I was glad one of us was. This amount of self-doubt was unlike me.


    In part, it was due to the actual process being out of my control; I was sure. Left to twiddle my thumb until the League told me when to jump and how high. It turned out I was better at taking direction when it was just who needed killing discretely.


    My mind was filled with all manner of revolving thoughts. Silhouette. Natural Disasters and our reveal to the public. Everyone knowing about Roxy and I. The World Government wanting me dead and Goldarch unstable. A potential League of Villains threatening the order within the city. The new colleagues and adversaries I was about to earn by taking up my new role.


    Part of me hoped that the mutants would rebel and give me the opportunity to let off some steam. They did not, and were actually relatively friendly considering the appearance of the super. After fixing a few of their structures using her strength, they were a little more accepting of her, and¡ªin exchange for some medical supplies from our warehouse¡ªthey handed over a crate of ore.


    [Is it strange that we barely go two days without trouble, yet I feel a day of comfort makes me rusty?]


    Roxy moved her eyes away from the side window, where she was watching the wastelands roll by on our way back home. ¡°Yeah. I understand it, though. Want to spar when we get back?¡±


    I nodded.


    We were getting to the point where I didn¡¯t think I could beat the rest of the team if it came down to it. While Roxy was still working out the details of her overpowered lava abilities, the others were improving thanks to our wasteland adventures. Belle was more than just a shielder, and Ren was more willing to do what was required in a fight. With the Captain¡¯s experience, the difference from the last time I fought them would be noticeably different.


    Had I improved?


    I had better control over my magic. My gear hadn¡¯t improved much, and as always, I was reliant on the tech at my disposal. That said¡­ with some preparation and the right location¡­


    [We should bring the others in for training before we are put to work.]


    ¡°You just want to try to fight us all again, don¡¯t you?¡±


    My eyebrow raised, but I didn¡¯t look at her.


    [Am I that easy to read?]


    ¡°Sure are.¡± She sighed. ¡°You¡¯ve held the belief that you¡¯re a tool with a singular purpose for so long that if you¡¯re not constantly sharpening the blade and making sure you have the upper hand, then you¡¯re worried you have no use anymore.¡±


    The quake-wagon fell into silence, aside from the tyres eating away at the sand and loose stone as we traveled.


    ¡°I¡¯m a loudmouth and a klutz at the best of times, but I get you, Dubs. From that time I saw you in the casino. You were shredded and bleeding, hand stabbed through, and yet even with me standing there, you still finished your contract.¡±


    [Now I will have the League telling me what to do.]


    ¡°No, now you have legitimacy. You¡¯re a citizen and have a stable career that doesn¡¯t involve shady assassinations.¡± She leaned toward me and prodded me on the leg. ¡°You¡¯re kinda cute when you¡¯re nervous, you know.¡±


    [I never said I was nervous.]


    ¡°You don¡¯t have a monopoly on empathy, Dubs. While the stoic killer thing is hot, we all know you¡¯re a softie on the inside. The way you¡¯re with me and Clara, and even the rest of the gang¡­ you¡¯re more human than you think.¡±


    I let that statement sink in. The point in life where I felt sorry for myself and undeserving of all the nice things I now had around me was long past. Whether I had karma coming my way or not, no longer mattered. I was living for the now and moving forward to build an actual future. Despite my apprehension about becoming a known public figure, Roxy hit the nail on the head about everything.


    If I knew her as well as she knew me, then I was willing to bet she was about to enjoy being the knowledgeable and confident one as I found my League feet. I gave her a brief glance and a nod.


    [Alright, you win. Once the first leg of my new job is long behind me, I¡¯ll-]


    The rest of my voice cut out from my vocalizer with a short shriek as the quake-wagon hit something. My thoughts were a flash of various slideshow stills. My body crumpled against the steering wheel. Darkness filled the cabin as the vehicle dropped and flipped forward. Cargo and debris crumbled and bounced around behind us as vertigo had us twisting overhead. Roxy swore as the seatbelts kept us tied to the chairs as the roof hit the rocky wasteland, sand blowing in through any open gap.


    And then there was darkness.


    A sharp tone rang in my ears. Vision slowly returned, my eyes trying to adjust without my goggles. There was a dull pain that radiated through my body, and I couldn¡¯t move. Perhaps I just needed a moment. I blinked and frowned at the overcast sky.


    It hadn¡¯t been cloudy before the vehicle¡­ where was¡­


    A shadowed figure stepped over me, someone I hadn¡¯t been expecting¡­ although their name escaped me. Probably due to my brain rattling around in my skull. This new person was a man, mostly obscured by black tactical equipment, his face a grisled mess of thick beard, cigar smoke, and a scowl that made me feel uncomfortable.


    The wisp of smoke coming from his held pistol didn¡¯t fill me with confidence either.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Bard,¡± he said, as rain began pattering from the darkening sky. ¡°I¡¯m sure you understand. Actions have consequences.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    I opened my mouth to respond, and froze. There was no vocalizer to transcribe my thoughts, just a tongue tasting dirt and blood around my teeth. Now my shoulder felt like it was burning up.


    The man turned his head to look at the surroundings, but I was unable to move my own to follow his gaze. His face was blurred and dotty, my vision failing as if my own mind was censoring this antagonist. Even the clouds danced and faded away as a chill ran through my aching torso.


    ¡°Only fitting that you go out last. Let the death gasps and stench of those you led astray be your last living memories.¡±


    Like a ghost, he faded away. A mist that faded from my mind as his words became reality. The smell of blood and death filled my senses. Struggled gasps for air that slowly petered out. Someone¡¯s final groan. My own body shuddered, convulsing and trying to prevent the inevitable. Any confusion and tension washed away as a calm washed over me, and then I felt warm.


    ¡°Dubs? Dubs?¡±


    My eyes flickered open again, the bright and clear sky overhead partially eclipsed by the worried face of Roxy.


    [Not the best nap I¡¯ve ever had.]


    ¡°Motherfucker,¡± she sighed and shook her head. ¡°One of the boxes clocked you in the head, I think. How you feeling?¡±


    I raised up my gun-arm and allowed a long sigh to flood out of my re-breather. Dying to a vehicular accident would have been rather underwhelming, but the dream-like flashback to the time I was left for dead was almost as bad. Some of the chill of that vision had lingered within, despite Roxy¡¯s warmth radiating beside me.


    Led them astray.


    There was no guarantee that any of what had come back to me was accurate. Dreams never were. The phrasing bit at me, either way. If it was my fault¡­ my initiative¡­ that got everyone else killed, then was I making a repeat mistake with my new group? I had already dragged them through a few deadly situations.


    [All things as expected, just a little haunting from my past creeping at the back of my mind.]


    ¡°Appreciate the candor, Dubs.¡± She held her hand out to help me up. ¡°Not the time, I know, but the League also has some of the best therapists on the continent.¡±


    I grunted as the super lifted me up to my feet with little issue. My body ached all over, especially the back of my head, but it looked as though I had gotten out of the accident with little actual injury. Roxy had a few scratches, but otherwise just appeared a little shaken up.


    [Noted.]


    A short response that probably sounded dismissive, but given that I was trying to become more stable, I did take the information with serious consideration. It was surprising the League hadn¡¯t made mention of it more overtly given they wanted to send me out through the city playing nice at least half of the time.


    I turned my glance over to the quake-wagon, and my heart sank further.


    While as sturdy as any vehicle available to the general public could get, the sudden crash and flip had buckled in most of the front end, bent the axle, and puckered in the roof in sections. Steam ran from it as it lay upside down, helpless. My gaze turned back to the cause of this calamity.


    ¡°Part of the ground collapsed,¡± Roxy said, gesturing to the wide crack through the ground as we walked over.


    Not entirely out of the realm of possibility. While I wasn¡¯t a geologist, it stood to reason the wasteland was probably filled with cave systems, ruins from before the Weather Wars, and other similar explanations¡ªsuch as¡­


    [I believe this was a trap.]


    ¡°You think?¡± She rubbed at her short hair as we stood near the edge of the dip. ¡°Shit, it does look like it was dug out with something. Covered with thin material¡­ but who would do this out in the middle of nowhere?¡±


    I sighed and pointed a finger at something mostly obscured with sand and debris. A small electronic box, a faded red light, slowly blinking on a basic control board.


    [There¡¯s a chance we are about to find out.]


    Not really a problem I felt like dealing with. Another look at the quake-wagon, and I changed my mind. Assuming our assailants came with vehicles, that might be an easy way back home. Perhaps I shouldn¡¯t have complained about my day being too boring.


    ¡°Kinda ironic, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    I tilted my head back to the super, who had a shit-eating grin on her face.


    ¡°All this trouble to get the ore for making super killing bullets, and a crate of the stuff almost killed you just as you became a hero yourself.¡±


    While my throbbing skull didn¡¯t quite see the humor in it, she had a point. Maybe I was trying too hard. I held up my hand and flexed my fingers before looking at my gun-arm. We¡¯d been burning the candle from both ends for a while, constantly bouncing between fights in the wastelands. A legit employment under the League should be a good excuse to take a breather. Go a few days, maybe a week, without mortal peril.


    [Being a magnet for danger has some downsides.]


    ¡°But some pluses too.¡± She grinned and tipped an invisible hat. ¡°It¡¯s what got you me, after all.¡±


    [For that I¡¯m eternally grateful.]


    ¡°Smart ass.¡±


    We turned to see dark shapes across the horizon. A section of vehicles, hopefully, so that we could get home without having to call for backup. While the rest of the team were still on their mandated break, I didn¡¯t want to bother them with the minor issue of a car crash. Not when we weren¡¯t really injured.


    ¡°Oh, check this, Dubs.¡± Roxy drew my attention to her outstretched hand.


    While she furrowed her brow and clenched her teeth, her lower arm glowed bright amber, turning to lava. As she dripped the molten rock to the sandy ground, her cupped hand started to fill up. She then cooled herself, dried rock flaking from the limb as she returned to normal¡ªleaving a handful of cooling stone like a ball in her grasp.


    ¡°What do you reckon?¡± she asked, narrowing her eyes out to the approaching targets. ¡°We¡¯ll make them pay for ruining the quake-wagon.¡±


    <hr>


    As the makeshift buggy rolled into our home area, I felt comfortable to be back home safely.


    Roxy had been fishing for compliments on her new technique, and I¡¯d lavished them generously, quietly thankful that she hadn¡¯t exploded the larger mutant vehicle that we required for bringing the ore crate and other bits taken from my wagon. Plus, it was useful that she had found a way to deal damage at range with her ability, given that she was mostly a melee bruiser when it came to heroics.


    [Clara has been very insistent that I give her every detail about what happened.]


    The super nodded as she hopped out of the open side of the buggy. ¡°She still gets notifications on your current health, I guess. What was it you saw when you were out? You mentioned a ghost?¡±


    [I had hoped that I could forget and bury that.]


    She tutted and gestured over to the deckchairs. ¡°I¡¯ll trade you. Open up and I¡¯ll give you a backrub.¡±


    [I would melt.]


    ¡°I have greater control over my powers now. You¡¯re not at risk.¡±


    [No, I meant figuratively. It¡¯s a deal.]


    With a smile, she set off. I left the vehicle and walked over to the garden. After living in the outskirts of the city, I had come to enjoy this small patch of green. Perhaps we should get more for the rest of our area. Some¡­ flowers or trees. While I took off my tactical gear, I filled my mind with those thoughts. Pleasant things. Regular human things.


    Then Roxy returned, and I sat. Her fingers rifled through my hair, noting the bump on the back of my head¡ªbut no blood or fractures. Clara¡¯s diagnosis had already confirmed that, but being physically prodded about was more reassuring. Once the super plied her warm fingers against my shoulders, any hesitation about holding my words back evaporated.


    I told her about the odd dream memory and the figure standing over me that time I should have been dead. The potential guilt. Another shadow trying to creep over the new life I had been building.


    Yet it didn¡¯t really affect me. Roxy didn¡¯t even need to say anything, just listen. Expelling the fog that was trying to gather vocally was enough to exorcise any demons trying to find corners to hide in within my mind. By the time she was done and I was out of things to verbalize, I felt calm. No longer worried about my future or past.


    As she finished up, I raised my eyes to look at the city ahead of me.


    After putting all of my growth and achievements into one pile, the weight of any potential difficulty felt like nothing. I had friends now, a relationship, and a way to exist in a less self-destructive manner. I had my public reveal waiting for me, and a few simple missions to run from the League. Nothing quite as dire as our adventures in the wasteland.


    My life was about to get more straightforward, surely.

 111 - New Ladder, Lowest Rung

    My eyes ran down the length of my shotgun arm. The edges of the dark metal picked up the early morning light shining in through the workshop window. After moving my green goggles up from my face onto my forehead, I let a sigh out of my re-breather.


    A weapon of violence. It had served me well in its singular purpose, so I couldn¡¯t fault it for that. That was just the thing, though. A hand could be used for all manner of purposes, good and evil. Mundane or adventurous. A gun was a one-tone instrument, and I had long run an orchestra of-


    ¡°Are you alright there, Dubs?¡±


    I blinked away the glaze over my eyes and stood, turning my head to the doorway. Eclipsing the daylight was the familiar muscled figure of Roxy, hands on hips and a raised eyebrow toward me. Gym wear, as had been standard for our week of vacation away from League of Heroes'' work.


    [Just playing with a little melancholy. As a treat.]


    ¡°Worried about your mission tonight? Would have been nice if the League could make up their mind about it.¡± She scratched at her short red hair as she pulled a face at the outside world.


    The time off had been pleasant, if not constantly haunted at the edges by the looming eventuality of the League flaunting me and the rest of the Natural Disasters to the city finally. When the others had come over for training, I hadn¡¯t even felt like doing the ego fight of all of them versus me. I could tell some of them were almost disappointed. We focused on cooperative training only.


    Each of them had gone to their meetings to see their new outfits, but were equally keeping their lips shut. All except Roxy, who had hers today. She insisted that it was because she was the leader and needed a longer meeting, but the others also thought it was because she wouldn¡¯t be able to keep a secret. That was fair. The League knew the two of us lived together and were likely to be looser with our lips when it came to new outfits or mission details.


    Not that I had any lips, of course.


    Even Clara had kept the results of her time with the League sealed away, despite her constantly being open about everything else. Then again, she didn¡¯t really have an outfit, or required any equipment for her role as my remote sidekick. Even under our protective dome, they didn¡¯t want to break the League¡¯s rules.


    Somewhat ironic considering all the other crimes we committed here. Although the shotgun cartridge fabricator had the proper licensing, what we were doing with it was¡­ well, Clara was certainly inventive. Not only would Goldarch bring down the hammer on us if we were investigated, but there were definite World Government laws we were burning through at record pace.


    They wanted to kill me anyway, so that wasn¡¯t any reason to divert our current course. The techie herself had been mostly absent or busy for the last few days, in between her education and working on weaponry and tech for my nigh inevitable ascension to herohood.


    My brain slowly revolved back around to the present situation that I was trying to delay acknowledging, and the reason why both of us were standing here having this conversation.


    Hero reveals were apparently an important and fragile thing for the League, doubly so for a whole team rebrand. After stringing me back and forth the last couple of days, they had finally decided that I¡¯d run what was called a ¡®drip feed¡¯ mission tonight. Solo, but they¡¯d be picking out more marketing stills and footage and letting me be seen out and active in the city. Apparently driving up speculation about who I might be increased engagement for the actual reveal.


    They¡¯d circulate images and questions through shadow accounts via social media the two days after, and then the team would be shown.


    Was I nervous? It was odd to have a problem I couldn¡¯t shoot or talk my way through. Never in my known life had I cared what others thought of me¡ªthe opposite, in fact¡ªI wanted to remain out of sight, an unknown. That type of hero wasn¡¯t good for business, however.


    Not that I was sure how I have wiggled my way into being a hero, either.


    With my focus returning to the present and the workshop, I gave Roxy a shrug.


    [Thought I¡¯d find some focus here, but it¡¯s different when it¡¯s quiet. Drab. Introspective.]


    I had spent a while last night standing here while the cartridge machine clunked and set new shells together, the nutrition canister fabricator buzzed, and the material scanner hummed its way through a part of the ancient mecha we were slowly disassembling. So much working machinery around me was oddly comforting, and I just stood there with a clear mind until Clara came in to disturb me.


    This morning, all the machines were off. After fixing breakfast for the super, I had vanished in hopes of grounding myself here, but I just felt¡­ glum.


    ¡°Once you get out there tonight, you¡¯ll feel back to normal. Shootin'' some bad guys under the shadow of fuckin¡¯ darkness, right?¡±


    I left the misery in the corner of the workshop where it belonged and walked over to the super. She remained unflinching, persisting in her pose with a smile on her face as I stood before her¡ªbut her eyes flickering with flames told me a different tale.


    [You have plenty of your own nerves towards your meeting.]


    Roxy deflated and sighed, resigning to leaning forward and hugging me. ¡°Man, I was really looking forward to being your stoic guide through this bullshit. I almost wish we could stick to kicking the shit out of mutants and monsters instead of playing the city game again.¡±


    [All part of the same pie. Goldarch is the day job, and the wastelands is our hobby.]


    ¡°Eh.¡± Her fingers found the back of my neck and ran through my hair. ¡°We both just need to get through today and suck it up. I¡¯ve been having a bad feeling about this, but I know it¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    After my time in the shadows, we had spent weeks brushing away the darkness and exposing me to the light. Now things were about to become their brightest, and would set the stage for how illuminated my life would stay. Briefly dazzled, but I¡¯d been hardened enough to not be scoured away by the initial intensity. A little magic.


    [I think I need some fresh air.]


    Roxy pulled back and smiled again, her face visibly more relaxed. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s part of why I came to track you down, actually. There¡¯s a truck on the way here.¡±


    [Really? I didn¡¯t think we were due any deliveries.]


    ¡°Might have to ask the gremlin if we can find where she is currently hiding,¡± she said with a shrug.


    ¡°I¡¯m already within earshot.¡±


    The super turned, allowing us to see out of the building and over to the green garden. Clara was standing there, a glass of water in one hand while the other held some small piece of tech. Dressed in her usual work dungarees with a black shirt underneath, with a red bandana tying her silver-gray hair back. Her bright green cybernetic eyes couldn¡¯t hide the fact that she looked tired.


    We left the workshop to join her. Off to the side, in the direction of the city in the distance, there was the dark shape of the truck approaching us.


    ¡°Odd to see you in the flesh for a change.¡± Roxy raised an eyebrow down the road. ¡°You¡¯ve been working almost constantly.¡±


    Clara shrugged. ¡°I have a few minutes to be third wheel. Or rather, I wanted to be here to present Gunquake his gift.¡±


    [Oh? You certainly spoil me.]


    She shook her head, almost grimacing. ¡°No, Gunquake. Most of what I do for you is¡­ functionally part of my career. This is something from me to you, wholeheartedly.¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I nodded, although it took me a second to fully take in what she meant. Despite saving my life, maintaining my existence, and striving to turn me into a more efficient killing¡­ more efficient hero, she still saw that as her day job. Whatever was about to arrive was, aside from that, picked out because she earnestly cared for me.


    [Now I¡¯m even more curious as to what it is.]


    ¡°All that I ask is that you don¡¯t break it immediately.¡± She shot me an uncharacteristic glare, and I wondered if that device in her hand was the one that controlled my cybernetic ribcage.


    Roxy gave me a pat on the back. ¡°I¡¯m going to get changed. Don¡¯t open it without me.¡±


    I gave her a nod and watched her walk off. A big day for us all, present company included. My gaze returned to the techie, who was watching the delivery approach.


    [How are you feeling about our first League mission later?]


    Clara took a sip of water before turning her eyes up to me. ¡°For the most part, Gunquake, all the pressure is on you. I have no doubt we will ace the mission provided and look good doing it.¡±


    [Yet¡­?]


    She grimaced and lowered her eyes. ¡°Forgive me, Gunquake. Do you remember that prison break last week?¡±


    I nodded again. It was right before we went out into the wasteland, and League had brushed us off from the event due to us being on vacation. Apparently it wasn¡¯t such a rarity¡­ which in part I assumed the League had a hand in it, so that some villains and criminals could get back on the streets to deal with. Cynical, perhaps, if they hadn¡¯t almost told me that clear as glass.


    ¡°A couple of days ago, I dug out the records of who had escaped. They were somewhat hidden.¡± She reached into the front pocket of her dungarees and drew out a folded square of paper.


    I took it from her and briefly struggled to open it out with one hand, helped only due to the fact that it looked as though it had been folded and unfolded a worrying amount of times for how long she''d had them.


    A list of names.


    My eyes scoured down the printed text of near twenty people. At first, I didn¡¯t recognize any. I was yet to dive into the lore of the city, so just assumed any mononyms were villains and normal sounding names were regular criminals. Until I got to one that I did know.


    Red Dust.


    The supervillain who had battled with the now S-Rank hero Angel. Who had destroyed part of the suburbs. Who had inadvertently killed Clara¡¯s parents when she was young, blinding her. The paper crumpled slightly as my grip tightened.


    [You could have told me sooner.]


    ¡°No, I couldn¡¯t.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I know you, Gunquake. You¡¯d have run off to try to find him and end up getting killed. We don¡¯t even have the Sanguine stakes made yet. I don¡¯t need you dying for empty vengeance.¡±


    There was an incredible amount of sadness in her eyes. She was downplaying how she really felt, though. The fact that she was carrying this list around, checking it regularly¡­ it told me that this was weighing on her. She needed closure. However, she wanted to me to be safe. If she didn¡¯t think this would be an easy win, then I couldn¡¯t betray her by getting into that fight.


    [Understood. I won¡¯t try to find him.]


    She deflated with relief. ¡°Thank you, Gunquake. The League have assured me they are trying to track him down and will put the S-Rank team out to arrest him. I know you want to protect me, but the best way you can do that is by staying alive.¡±


    [I¡¯m sure the League will be better equipped to track down and detain him. I would have come to the same agreement if you had let me know right away.]


    ¡°Not that I don¡¯t think you are competent, Gunquake, but I wanted you to focus on tonight¡¯s mission over all else.¡± Clara gestured towards the van, which was almost at our home area. ¡°We have a few busy days before settling in to our new normal.¡±


    [This isn¡¯t the new tech you negotiated with the League?]


    ¡°No. Don¡¯t get your hopes up for that, but we¡¯ll get you equipped later once the full brief comes through.¡±


    The League had been relatively vague about what my mission would entail. Naturally details were slim, so that there was less chance of the targets being tipped off, even if they trusted me to keep my lack of a mouth shut. A minor villain that had been causing trouble and a small gang of lackeys. No killing, of course¡ªand they had supplied me with plenty of less-than-lethal ammunition to ensure I didn¡¯t fall into old habits.


    Which left Clara free to use our new machine solely for committing war crimes. Napalm, shrapnel, and some more experimental things that lived in the biohazard crate I wasn¡¯t allowed to open. When it came to her work, she always excelled. Even if I was stepping in the more placid role of a hero, our side work as mercenaries for the League fighting back against the encroaching World Government meant that I¡¯d still need to kill.


    So she would provide me with only the best and most effective options, regardless of what the laws thought. Suited me, as I¡¯d take any advantage offered, especially going up against villains who had actual powers. Red Dust briefly crossed my mind again, before the truck pulling up drew my attention away.


    The vehicle was a flatbed, a long wooden box strapped down onto the back. While Clara discussed the sign-off details for the delivery, I circled to the side of the truck to get a better look.


    About fifteen feet long, maybe eight wide and tall. A rectangle of wood that gave no hint about what was inside. Another machine for the workshop? Stacks of ammunition? Grenades?


    She had said that it wasn¡¯t work related, just something for me¡­ so the size of it was interesting.


    ¡°Y¡¯all need a hand?¡±


    I turned my head to see Roxy exit the house, now in her current super suit. It wasn¡¯t often she busted out a ¡®ya¡¯ll¡¯ so I could tell her nerves had increased.


    Our normal delivery service was still cooling off after we had used them to garner public favor for Captain Snaps¡ªour speedster hero¡ªso I didn¡¯t recognize the current driver. He was briefly awestruck by Roxy¡¯s appearance in full Rockslide regalia, that he just nodded and babbled about how that would save him the trouble of using the truck''s built-in crane arm to do the deed.


    I ignored most of the back and forth and the super lifting the box, to instead focus on the city. We were living as far detached from Goldarch as possible without being swarmed by the worst the wastes had to offer. I was soon to be more than an occasional ghost through those streets. A temporary reaper for worthless credits. Instead, I¡¯d be steeped in politics, the machinations of the League, and everything more mundane.


    It felt like standing on the edge of a diving board, looking down at the shadowed pool below. Unable to correctly judge the distance. Confidence there, but¡­


    I paused, as Clara put her hand on my gun-arm, bringing it closer to wrap her arm around it.


    ¡°Seems you¡¯ve come down with a case of noir, Gunquake.¡±


    [It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve felt¡­ at the bottom of the ladder again. Not rock bottom, but a new start all the same.]


    She nodded and watched as Roxy put the box down gently. ¡°I think we¡¯re doing all this worrying and the next few days will be very uneventful and straightforward.¡±


    I grimaced.


    ¡°Perhaps you should stop tempting fate,¡± Roxy said, giving the techie a side-eye as she signed an autograph for the driver.


    ¡°True.¡± Clara leaned into me more. ¡°It¡¯s much more fun to be tempting Gunquake instead.¡±


    It turned out that a nervous Roxy wasn¡¯t exactly the best person to prod at, as the glance she shot us made us both wince¡ªand even the driver backed away in surprise as the edge of the papers in his hand started to curl up from the heat the super produced.


    We waved him away and waited for the truck to be a decent distance from our base before we turned our attention to the package.


    ¡°Be my guest,¡± Clara said with a gesture. She downed the last of her water before watching me step over.


    Being one-handed made it a difficult task, but Roxy assisted me¡ªunclipping sections around the bottom so that could be lifted up into the air. With her own curiosity piqued, she did just that, and the object within was revealed.


    As protective wrapping and sheets of plastic fell to the ground, polished metal picked up the sunlight. Sleek curves of chrome and deep green. It was unique, unlike anything I had seen in the city before. Wide. Sturdy. It had an aura of power to it. Two thick, heavy-duty tyres. A place to store grenades.


    A motorbike. In my colors, and clearly packing more than a decent engine among the thick plated panels.


    [It¡¯s¡­ gorgeous. Thank you, Clara.]


    She wrinkled up her nose and waved me off. ¡°Clearly it needs a little work to function with your gun-arm, and I¡¯m sure I could add more things to it¡­ but you are welcome.¡±


    Roxy whistled, kneeling down to check it out closer. ¡°I thought you said this wasn¡¯t work-related, though? Dubs has needed a new vehicle since we flipped the wagon.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t to replace that. I have a proper vehicle on order, but it¡¯s not something with overnight delivery. The bike is just because¡­ Gunquake looks cool on them¡­ and I wanted him to feel like he is cool.¡±


    [That¡¯s very considerate of you.]


    ¡°Yes, well. I¡¯m going to go inside to die of embarrassment now. If you want to show your appreciation, then perhaps you can owe me¡­ something.¡±


    Roxy grunted. ¡°You can¡¯t just buy your way into his¡­ anything.¡±


    ¡°You forget, sister - I¡¯ve literally had my hand around his heart. Everything else is just inevitable, don¡¯t you agree?¡±


    I raised an eyebrow at the super, who just rolled her eyes in answer.


    [As always, I am at your mercy then.]


    Clara sighed and turned to leave. ¡°If only,¡± she murmured.


    As she left for the house, I turned my attention to my new motorbike. The quake-bike, no doubt. More heavy-set than the last one I had stolen. It looked as though it could take more a beating than most civilian vehicles could. I was instructed not to break it, however. Now I also wondered what main method of transport she was ordering for me.


    ¡°She¡¯s a goofball,¡± Roxy said, standing and stepping over to me. ¡°I¡¯m glad she picked this out for you. It¡¯s very fitting.¡±


    [It should be perfect for getting around in the city.]


    The super put her arms around me and pulled me close to give me a kiss on my temple. ¡°She was right, too,¡± she murmured, ¡°you do look hot on a bike.¡±


    [I¡¯m pretty sure she said ¡®cool¡¯.]


    ¡°Well, ace your mission tonight and you¡¯ll have a bubble bath waiting for you. I got your favorite.¡±


    I looked between the muscled hero, my new bike, and the distant city.


    In no time at all, I¡¯d be half a mag down through a criminal gang, bloodied with the smell of gunpowder and fear in the air. The heat of battle warming me and the buzz of Clara in my ear giving me guidance.


    And I¡¯d be loving it.


    My eyes moved away from the rosy haze of optimistic foresight to see a message ping through my goggle lens. Feet fully grounded once more, I sighed and waited.


    >Confidential Connection Secured


    >Mission Briefing Downloading

 112 - Shadowed Stars

    My brain was so full of thoughts that I couldn¡¯t come up with an apt metaphor for how fast time went by.


    Roxy got the brief details of the mission from me and was off. There was a good chance she would be home before I had to go into the city¡­ until we received a message from the hobgoblins that they were having trouble with melting some of the mecha parts. The super said she would swing by there after her meeting and lend her powers to see if that would help.


    Clara ran through the mission briefing three times, before she shrugged and vanished off to the workshop. I sat in the garden and glared at the city.


    A C-Rank villain and a dozen henchmen.


    Bonemeal was his name. At first, I was concerned he was a necromancer since the location of the mission was a graveyard, but it was more mundane than that. A prolific graverobber, who used his powers to cause fear and obscure his acts of thievery. I assumed he was more dangerous than the briefing let on, given that he was C-Rank.


    Tonight, he was taking his gang to one of the affluent inner-city graveyards. Not one used these days, but held the remains of some of the more influential families from decades ago.


    I wondered if the League had slipped him a faux tip that there was something worth stealing there.


    Desecrating the dead was a good enough reason to have me appear and knock their heads together, intended theft or not. They weren¡¯t exactly built for the sort of combat I was used to, so the briefing all but said I should be able to mop them up with little issue. Clearly they didn¡¯t know my aptitude when it came to getting knee deep into more problems than was healthy.


    All I had to do was drop in while they were trying to pry open some of the maesoleums, and pump them full of Nerve shot. What could go wrong?


    The rest of the afternoon, I slowly put together my outfit¡ªthe new one delivered the day prior fresh from the League¡ªand loaded up my ammunition. More detail and care than I¡¯d ever spent doing this ritual. If anything, this was just adding unnecessary pressure for my mission. It was much easier when I was dancing with death. I had memorized the steps, of course.


    Once the sun started to crater down towards the horizon, Clara reappeared from wherever she had been hiding for the afternoon.


    ¡°Are you ready, Gunquake?¡±


    I shuffled in my new trench-coat, turning to face her as she approached.


    [No. Yes. I¡¯d rather just skip back to the part where I am violent and have no accountability.]


    She gave me a wry smile and looked past toward the city. ¡°Well, if you get bored, we can always try to overthrow the League.¡±


    [Hmm. Sounds like there would be plenty of people holding us accountable for that.]


    ¡°Plenty of violence, though.¡± She extended a hand, producing a small metal disc half coated with white resin. Two small lights of blue dotted one edge. ¡°The League didn¡¯t care to give you much in terms of equipment upgrades¡­ at least until you have ¡®proven¡¯ yourself, but after bending their ears, I have procured two things.¡±


    I took the small object, which was rather flat, and held it up to look at it.


    ¡°Burst Inhibitor,¡± she explained. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t let me take any energy shields, but this is the next best thing¡­ which isn¡¯t saying much. If you activate it with your synapses, it will absorb a spike in damage. Best used against explosions or supervillain attacks. Once used, it will be inert for a full day. I¡¯m sure you can read between the lines, Gunquake.¡±


    A singular last-ditch attempt to save my life, or a trump card in gaining the advantage in a clash against someone with superpowers. Risky to use it up, but riskier to not use it for its intended purpose. I slipped it into my belt.


    [Thank you. No doubt it will save my life now that you¡¯ve given it to me.]


    ¡°Something to make up for tempting fate earlier, perhaps?¡±


    I nodded, ignoring the fact that she had acquired the tech before inviting malady on me. It did put my train of thought onto a parallel track, however.


    [You said it is synapse controlled. When did you connect that to me?]


    Clara shrugged. ¡°If you didn¡¯t notice, then it doesn¡¯t matter. Do you have all your equipment ready?¡±


    I stood and showed her. One drum mag of Nerve. A second drum of Tazer. Two mags of Smoke. Selectloader had a mixture of edge case use cartridges - none of the new variants were useful for not-murdering people. Bag of tricks in my belt pouches. Nothing out of place. Everything as expected. Grenades aplenty.


    [What was the other thing you got from them?]


    ¡°Your next vehicle.¡± Her green-lit eyes finished giving me a run-down. ¡°I actually had to bring in Director Kingston to tilt the scales in our favor. You¡¯ll see why when it arrives.¡±


    It was probably a good thing it was being kept secret from me. My brain could ignore it for now instead of adding further distracting thoughts to my busy mind. After spending our time bouncing between problems, having to wait patiently was actually mentally fatiguing.


    ¡°Could I show you something, Gunquake?¡±


    I raised an eyebrow as my focus returned to the techie.


    [Hesitantly, I consent.]


    She rolled her eyes. ¡°There¡¯s no need to act like I have a one-track mind.¡±


    [I¡¯m still in awe that you manage to juggle so many things at one. Are you sure you don¡¯t have a double?]


    ¡°Like I said before, if I did, you¡¯d certainly know, Gunquake. Mostly because one of me would focus on work while the other would constantly flirt with you.¡± Clara furrowed her brow and looked at the sky. ¡°Which would end with Rockslide murdering that Clara, so we¡¯d be back to square one.¡±


    [So, what is it you wanted to show me?]


    She waited a couple of seconds, still lost in that daydream, before blinking out of it. ¡°Oh. In keeping with the theme of me constantly overworking, Gunquake, I have a map.¡± From within one of her pockets, she withdrew a folded page.


    I was expecting it to be of my mission area - perhaps to give me a vantage point or a plot to increase my efficiency. Or¡­ somewhere to pose dramatically for the hidden cameras watching me. Instead, it was of a different scale, and showed the whole city surrounded by¡­


    [Are those roads through the wastelands?]


    Clara nodded and ran a finger around the lines moving around Goldarch like a spiderweb. ¡°Not long after the Weather Wars, the city actually had a decent relationship with several large mutant and wasteland tribes. Before they were ''mutants''. Over time, things degraded and the larger settlements fragmented down to the distrustful and violent groups we have now. The ages have buried the roads beneath sand and worn stone.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    [You think the World Government had a hand in that?]


    ¡°My legs aren¡¯t strong enough to make that leap, Gunquake. There isn¡¯t enough information or evidence to say what really happened.¡±


    Sounded likely to me, either way. Even if it was decades or longer in the past, the Gov had proven themselves to be dedicated to shuffle all the city states into their deck. If Goldarch had the same power back then as it did now, then this was potentially a drawn-out attempt to grab power that made us even smaller pawns in the grand scheme of things.


    [Even with the map, I don¡¯t think we have the labor or technology to clear the roads for our own use.]


    My assumption was that she had shown me this after the death of the quake-wagon signaled that powering randomly through the wastes was just rolling the dice. Roads between our mining and forge outposts would increase efficiency and allow us to support our allies better.


    ¡°Of course not, Gunquake. I just wanted to show you this¡­ like a piece of art. The truth is, I often work in half measures. This is a puzzle, invoking images of the past and a potential future. Perhaps one day we will find the connecting piece and use this information as an actionable advantage for our goals.¡± Clara folded the map back up and gave me a wry smile. ¡°I keep most fragments of destiny within my skull, but I wanted to share this one with you.¡±


    [Only as you think that me knowing of the roads will be a core component of you finding the connecting piece eventually.]


    ¡°Clever, Gunquake. Perhaps you thinking that is actually a guiding line that will cause you to find the missing parts to other puzzles I have pending.¡± She tilted her head and glanced toward her office. ¡°Now I must go finalize my own preparations.¡±


    I nodded and watched her walk off. My mind feeling more uncluttered, focusing on what used to be, rather than my evening plans. It calmed me, even.


    Her plan all along, I was certain.


    <hr>


    My repeated glances at the clock in my goggle lens didn¡¯t seem to assist with speeding up the time. Yet, the darkness was inevitable, and the sun gradually ducked away to avoid the events of the night.


    The quake-bike was now outfitted with a holder so that I could rest my barrel on the handlebars. Any fresh annoyance at not having a hand fizzled away under the pressure of my looming mission. An apology from Roxy was sent through telling me she would have to miss seeing me off caused a little turmoil on my insides, but at the end of the day, this was something simple compared to what we¡¯d been up to lately.


    Clara gave me a hug before heading to her computer, where she would remotely pilot the drone in my backpack when I arrived. The tank beside it was filled with a type of oil that was less flammable than fuel, but more slick. Not so useful if the graveyard was soil, but if there was a stone staircase I had to¡­


    The door to her office closed, and I was left outside alone. Sitting on my new vehicle, equipped to the gills with more tech and ammo than I¡¯d ever used. Hard to kill. Standing above the targets in firepower and experience.


    Still, I let the night soak in through me. Aside from where Clara was, the rest of our area had no light. I closed my eyes and sighed. Something inside of me clicked into a familiar groove. This was a kill mission. A contract that I could throw myself in and see what bloodied bodies shook out of the other side. Nerve shot would make the actual fatalities zero, but on my end it wasn¡¯t that different.


    In fact, I would have smiled were I capable of that act.


    //Clara: Dynamic map updated with route to get you to location in time.


    //Dubs: Understood.


    I flicked the switch on the small control panel of my new motorcycle, and it hummed into life. Near silent, but the way it vibrated through my smile gave a hint of the power behind the quiet engine. While the roar of old tech was more intimidating, stealth was a huge benefit for the type of work I would be given. Feet up, I started rolling forward.


    Just as soon as the wheels were in motion, I moved away from my worries and our home. Back on the road. Time to sharpen my blade.


    The League had provided me with a list of suggested one-liners and phrases to spout at the criminals. As much as I was playing along with their game of heroes and villains, I wasn¡¯t about to become a commodity like that. A toy with a pull string repeating catchphrases to be sold during the holiday period. I was a monster, and the more they tried to cage me¡­


    Interesting how my mood had switched.


    The dirt road switched to concrete as I approached the outskirts of the city. It was a reasonable distance, but I didn¡¯t want to get there too early. About half a mile off from the League HQ, more to the east. Near enough to the more affluent areas of the city center, but out of the way so the bureaucrats of the past didn¡¯t have to look at the graves of the fallen while they stacked up their wealth.


    It would have been nice to have a little more information on who I would be facing. The League wasn¡¯t able to tell if the henchmen had guns or more exotic and unusual weaponry. How they were arriving and leaving the scene. If they had something to break into the tombs or coffins. Sure, it might be simple¡­ and to be honest, I usually jumped into these things with a scrap of knowledge and an itchy trigger as my only preparation.


    //Clara: Updated map with location to stop and vantage point.


    //Dubs: Understood.


    I was envious of Roxy¡¯s ability to leap great distances without breaking her legs. Dropping into my missions would make things a lot easier for me. Most of my work as a contract killer was inside buildings. Being out in the open put me at risk of taking damage and increased the worth of the grenades. Struggling through the insides of a factory or mansion made it a room-by-room problem where surprise and sudden violence could win out conflict in seconds.


    Which just made me wonder how collateral damage would work. My actions reflected on the League now, and I probably couldn¡¯t go around destroying the mausoleums and headstones without earning the ire of the owners. Accountability was rough.


    Warehouses flashed me by as I hit the main streets of Goldarch. Lights overhead washed over me as I switched down a different road. Quiet at this hour. Most factories and construction sites devoid of their workers. Now that I was an official hero, I didn¡¯t have to worry about being pulled over by the police¡­ even after making a scene. I wondered if that officer I had run into had been collared by the League since they had been keeping an eye on me. That would explain the lack of follow-up, at least.


    That district fell away as I entered the city proper. Taller buildings, rows of shops, and areas of residential buildings. Even though the quake-bike was heavier set than my previous motorcycle, it was easy to control. I followed the route Clara provided me, which updated to switch directions so that I would arrive at the precise time based on my speed.


    Familiar places, to some degree. Soon to be even more so. I was grateful that the team would be stationed in the southeast quadrant.


    //Roxy: Just finished at the League. On my way to the hobs.


    //Roxy: Kick some ass x


    //Dubs: Consider it done. I¡¯ll get Clara to send you updates.


    //Roxy: Please! x


    There was a good chance that the super had asked for a live feed to my actions at least five times behind my back. I would be in minimal danger, but this was a step forward. All the talking turned to actual actions that would have consequences. Three more turns, and then my directions were telling me to pull in to a side street beside an alleyway.


    //Clara: Rockslide will be getting the same basic information I am sending to the League.


    //Clara: They don¡¯t have direct access to my drone or our comms¡­


    //Clara: But they¡¯ll have cameras and will likely pick up anything you say in situ.


    //Clara: Just to forewarn you, Gunquake.


    //Dubs: I¡¯ll watch my tongue, then.


    She didn¡¯t respond to the easy bait as I switched the engine off. A quiet street by some of the affluent office blocks on the left, and some smaller shops on the right of the road. Maybe a mall or something. Directly to my side was a darkened passageway between a hardware store and a shuttered jeweler. The faint light from the lamps illuminating the pavements picked up the edges of trash cans and a metal staircase leading to one of the rooftops.


    I took a deep breath and swung myself off of the quake-bike. Further down the road on the left, a small group of people were talking in the glow of an open doorway, but no attention had been paid to my arrival. I adjusted my gear and dipped into the darkness.


    A few steps through discarded debris and quiet things out of sight, and my map updated. It zoomed in further and showed my route through the alleys. Just a quick left and then right, and then up on top of a building and I¡¯d be able to look down upon the graveyard. While I wasn¡¯t sure I needed the higher ground to start with, it was useful for the drone to get out at that point.


    I stopped as my foot caught something, realizing that it wasn¡¯t trash - but somebody¡¯s covered legs. Sitting hunched up against a wall in layers of jackets was an old man. He looked up at me, two shining orbs amidst a face thick with graying hair.


    [Apologies, I didn¡¯t mean to disturb you.]


    There was some sadness or disconnect in his expression. His mouth opened and shook for a moment before he spoke. ¡°If you intend to rob me, I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll be sorely disappointed.¡± Surprisingly well spoken, his tone a lot calmer than his face let off.


    [Nothing of the sort. I¡¯m actually a hero.]


    It felt odd to say that, and I didn¡¯t sell it too well. The man gave me a tilt of his head, regarding me a second time. ¡°You don¡¯t look much like a hero.¡±


    [I¡¯m still learning.]


    His expression of interest softened into a weak smile, and he gave me a nod. I tipped the edge of my hood in lieu of having a hat and excused myself. That definitely counted as my first interaction with the public, and I thought I aced it. It didn¡¯t end up in violence, and I didn¡¯t reveal my secret identity. Oh, I guess I didn¡¯t really have that.


    Despite all the worries of the day, I was still an unknown. Even to myself, to some degree.


    I flexed out my cybernetic arm as I reached the stairwell leading to the target roof. My disposition neutral, I took the first step to actually seeing who was unlucky enough to have me turn up to stop their crime in progress.

 113 - Between Headstones

    The rooftop wasn¡¯t exactly the simple perch overlooking the target that I had expected. Between my current position hiding behind a stack of warm metal vents, there was still quite the distance between my gun and the skulls of the grave-robbers.


    Down from where I positioned were a couple of shorter buildings before a small public park. After that was the graveyard. A modest thing, and the fact that it existed here amongst the built-up city center gave credibility to it being for some wealthy corpses. It was probably decent real estate.


    It was also blocked off by tall hedges and trees; the gate leading inside shadowed as two workmen fiddled with the lights. Despite the ladder and hi-viz jackets, I had a feeling-


    //Clara: No record of planned works being carried out tonight.


    //Clara: They are part of Bonemeal¡¯s gang.


    Yeah. Exactly that. With a little magnification from my lens, I could spot that they seemed to just be doing nothing at all instead of actual work. I couldn¡¯t see any weapons, however. Nor their means of getting in and out of the area - but the trees around the edge of the park were blocking my view of the street.


    My options were to either approach from the front or find a way in via the outskirts. I glanced at all the lights on throughout the surrounding buildings. Some of them had the occasional shape of someone moving past, or the flashes of a television show being watched.


    I knew full well which way I¡¯d prefer to assault the graveyard¡­ yet also realized that I had to play this like a hero. The League was farming promotional content from me, so I couldn¡¯t just deliver a few shots of me blowing everything to smithereens in the midst of a smokescreen. I had to¡­ make more of a show of it.


    For once I was glad not to have a mouth, otherwise I would have a bad taste in it.


    Of course, my appearance made it hard to look unassuming - but perhaps it was beneficial not to look like an average hero.


    //Clara: I¡¯m going to detach and scout.


    //Dubs: I will get a little closer.


    The drone unclipped from my backpack; the rotors spinning up to catch itself in the air before it rose above me. I rolled out my wrist and sighed. Best to get stuck in and see how things would shake out.


    While Clara flew over the park toward the graveyard, I dropped my rappel from left arm at the edge of the building. The metal tip burst into a bundle of expanding foam that quickly solidified, melding the taut line to the brickwork. With one last unspoken curse, I leaned over and started to abseil down to the lower building.


    I knew it wasn¡¯t just the League and any random civilians that would be seeing this. No doubt my colleagues would be interesting in seeing my debut and how I handle myself. While I didn¡¯t have rivals¡ªyet¡ªI felt it necessary to impress. The Natural Disasters had to be a success.


    Ugh. That name choice still haunted me.


    My boots hit the next roof, and I detached the end of the rappel, my thoughts causing the hardened foam to dissolve. Out nearer the center of Goldarch, there was a residual hum of noise that I wasn¡¯t used to. All muted sounds of solitary vehicles, people talking, and domestic machinery. While most of my contracts weren¡¯t exactly in places of quiet¡ªespecially once I got involved¡ªI had become used to the comfort of my home.


    I dropped down off onto a lower part of the current building and slid gently from a sloped awning, landing and rolling from a thick bush. The smell of earth and foliage made it through my re-breather as I paused in the shade of the greenery. Trees surrounding me, and clumps of hedges around this boundary of the park.


    //Clara: You were not spotted.


    //Clara: Targets are using some form of cloaking within the graveyard.


    //Clara: I can¡¯t pinpoint movements or number.


    //Dubs: Understood.


    That didn¡¯t particularly worry me. Other than the villain himself, I had enough experience with putting down thugs, no matter how they were armed. A graveyard didn¡¯t have my usual preferred amount of cover and Roxy would murder me if I came home riddled with bullets¡­


    But I felt calm.


    I stepped out of my hiding space onto a small stone path and adjusted my coat hood. The League wanted me to show off a little? Fine, my bardic self knew how to thread a little narrative through my usual bursts of violence. I followed the path around.


    The park was something quite pleasant, even at night. Much like the disabled lights over by the graveyard entrance, there were sporadic lamps placed throughout the area. Enough to provide few true shadows. For once, that was fine with me.


    I circled around on the outer path, past two patches of flowers hiding away, and then a small stone fountain that was switched off. Perhaps this would be a nice place to take Roxy. Criminals often returned to the scene of their crimes, of course. I let the V-Force drive in my shotgun hum up and then fade back away as I approached the far end of the park.


    It was no surprise that the two workmen saw me, given that I wasn¡¯t attempting to be covert. That said, I did get rather close, given how quiet I was on my feet. The nearest spun his head around, away from looking at the lamp they had taken down from above the closed gate behind them.


    ¡°Ah, sorry,¡± he began, eyes focusing on me. ¡°This area is currently¡­ under maintenance¡­¡±


    He looked late twenties. Dark skin, light eyes, and uncomfortable in the outfit he was wearing. His eyes went from my face, to my shotgun, and then to his companion. Similarly aged and dressed, but lighter in skin tone with patches of dirty blonde hair sticking out from beneath a brightly colored hard-hat.


    ¡°If you could move on,¡± this second man said, his voice wavering as he returned the glance before staring at my gun-arm.


    [I¡¯m actually here to pass on a message. There¡¯s a problem.]


    I nodded toward the graveyard, but otherwise kept my posture rather neutral. Using my rather villainous appearance as bait, I threw out the hook, hoping they¡¯d bite and mistake me for someone on their side. Hinting that I knew what they were up to would either relax them or put them on edge.


    They exchanged another look, this one longer, before the blonde nodded. ¡°Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. It¡¯s from the Dark Council?¡±


    [It¡¯s better for both our longevities if you just do it without questioning and delaying me.]


    Other than not looking like he really understood some of the longer words I used, he nodded eagerly. His hand went up to his ear, revealing some manner of micro-headset. He raised an eyebrow and awaited my message.


    The first word I uttered was via the barrel of my shotgun. Nerve shot to the face and neck of the one awaiting my instruction. Knocked out immediately, as his body imagined that I had just blown his throat out. The closer faux-workman flinched in surprise before going to draw something from his side. Clara ran the drone out from the sky into the side of his head. As he stumbled in shock, I stepped forward and struck him in the temple with my metal elbow.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    A small pistol that looked like it shot either a lazer or similar unconventional ammo type bounced across the path as his body flopped to the ground.


    //Clara: Looks like they have decent technology.


    //Clara: C-Class Phaser pistol, F33 model. Force and minor heat damage.


    //Clara: Not to mention they probably have their own comms.


    Hopefully nothing to track their guards being knocked out. Mission accomplished, however, as all that information the techie relayed to me was what I wanted to get out of the goons. They had guns and a way to communicate.


    There was also the mention of a ¡®Dark Council¡¯ which sounded cliche enough to be a group of villains starting up their own organization. Perhaps an unfair reach when I was both literally and figuratively in the dark, but I was starting to get the hang of how this superhero stuff worked. I¡¯d be willing to bet the edgy group was the opposite of our S-Rank five.


    Empty cartridge bounced across the stone path as I loaded in the next Nerve shot. Having the drone ram an opponent wasn¡¯t ideal, but it was better than me using one of my abilities so soon. Especially when I might have just alerted everyone to my presence.


    //Clara: In addition to visual cloaking, they seem to have something dampening sound both ways.


    //Clara: Joy.


    //Clara: Local Police are moving in to the area to ensure civilians stay well clear.


    Clara¡¯s comms were a lot more casual and conversational than normal. At this stage, I didn¡¯t particularly mind. Hitting two thugs in the face didn¡¯t exactly compare to our struggles against the mutants, so I was sure she would lock in once things started to get more complicated.


    Further to that, I was sure her last message was delivered with a sour tone. It wasn''t like her parents were afforded that same luxury, and Red Dust was no doubt still lingering in her mind. Hopefully, he¡¯d be back under arrest soon and she could be at peace again.


    I glanced over at the gate to see that it was barely ajar. A hefty padlock lay on the ground, shadowed by the ladder and prop tool they had brought. The metal hoop on it melted away as if they opened it with acid. The techie was right - I couldn¡¯t hear any sounds from within. My re-breather whirred as I sighed, and I took myself toward the entrance.


    Clearly this graveyard was well maintained even if no longer receiving permanent guests, as the barred gate opened smoothly. Silently. After stepping within, I pulled it back to behind me. I debated it in my mind for a couple of seconds, before I used one of the thick tie-straps from a pouch to hold the two gates shut again. It wasn¡¯t especially sturdy, but I didn¡¯t want runners.


    As I turned back to the graveyard proper and took another step, an odd feeling washed over me. It wasn¡¯t¡­ magic, but something else. I had stepped through the veil that had been put up, and my eyes cleared away the deep shadows to reveal a better picture of what lay before me.


    Figures. By instinct I dropped down behind the nearest cover - some rather tall gravestones. The place was dotted with many of these rectangular monoliths of polished obsidian, occasionally broken up with longer tombs and the occasional mausoleum. Not especially large, and pretty condensed, since space in the city was probably a premium. It turned this place of rest into a maze. That was to my benefit.


    Around the edge of my hiding spot, I could see four targets clearly, while there was movement beyond that hinted there were at least three more in that direction. Unlike the two now laying unconscious outside the gates, these wore different outfits. Plain white death masks and dark robes. Belts that held their pistols. A couple of shovel-like weapons in the hands of some, while others held boxes. Each of them was looking further into the graveyard, toward the larger mausoleum. It must be the main focal point for their plot, and probably went underground.


    I was more interested in whatever they were using to provide the stealth and sound muting around the area. If I knew Clara¡ªand she certainly knew me¡ªwe both wanted that tech in our lives. I lowered myself down as voices echoed from the other end of the graveyard. Someone sounded mad.


    //Clara: Looks like they haven¡¯t been able to enter the tomb yet.


    //Clara: Target is not impressed.


    //Clara: Five by him, four in the middle, four close to you.


    //Clara: I suggest heading toward the villain with subtlety while we have that advantage.


    //Dubs: Agreed.


    //Dubs: Guide me.


    They didn¡¯t seem to have anything to detect the drone, which would ultimately be their downfall. I knew that this mission would spark an arms race. Villains would get smarter and start to prepare for my strengths. We¡¯d have to find a way around their new defenses. For a mortal like myself, there was a hard cap on my potential that could be cut short by someone powerful enough. That might just mean hoping the League guided me around such a pitfall.


    Such avoidance played out in a more real sense as Clara told me to move. I kept low, using the shadows and jutting stone grave markers as cover while stepping quietly to the right. Heading toward the hedges over on that side would keep me away from the main group of henchmen who were murmuring and trying to avoid the ire of their boss.


    Bonemeal himself didn¡¯t appear to be someone who had much patience for incompetence or things not going his way. As he ranted and raved at his subordinates, he drew their attention away from potentially spotting me. By the time he had vented enough and decided on a path forward, I was already halfway up the graveyard.


    Clara told me to pause, and I hunkered down. While the right side had been the clearest sector of the graveyard at the start, whatever instructions Bonemeal had given them now sent a trio of the robed goons in this direction.


    //Clara: They can¡¯t get into the main tomb.


    //Clara: Looks like they are going to loot some of the minor ones instead.


    //Dubs: Any thoughts on why they can¡¯t get in?


    //Clara: Nothing brief enough to relay in situ.


    //Clara: Three seconds and then sharp left behind the longer grave.


    I timed it as if it was my own heartbeat, my life on the line as I moved as instructed, passing a gap and crouching behind a raised block of polished marble. Unfortunately, I had my own thoughts on the current problem plaguing the villain, and my brain seemed to move quicker than my legs needed to.


    While the cynic in me thought that the League themselves might have tipped Bonemeal off about trying to loot the graveyard, it was then equally likely that the League would have made it impossible for them to do so. The gate lock had been easily melted through, but the tomb or mausoleum with the actual goods must be protected by something even stronger. I wouldn¡¯t put it past the Director to have arranged for a spellcaster or tech specialist to have increased the security right before this mission was to play out.


    Perhaps I was completely off with penning that narrative, but the clarity of it when showing on my mental pages was too believable. Undeniable facts.


    I held my breath as a figure walked along on the other side of where I was hidden. Their own footsteps were muffled by the soft grass, but I could follow them by their faint shadow and rustle of their clothing.


    Expecting them to go all the way to the right, they instead stopped¡ªalmost in view of me. I slowly raised my gun-arm up to point in their direction.


    ¡°Bonemeal says to get in this tomb,¡± a voice complained from slightly deeper and further to the right.


    The henchman nearest me murmured something under his breath before turning to face the speaker. ¡°You got the tools, then? It¡¯s going to take time, y¡¯know?¡±


    ¡°Complain to the boss. See if you can convince him otherwise.¡±


    I saw the shoulders of the man near me slump as he sighed. ¡°Fuckin¡¯¡­ fine, let¡¯s get this done.¡±


    Not exactly the most loyal and obedient gang, but that wasn¡¯t exactly a surprise. It was rare to find henchmen that were as fervent and dedicated to their cause as the villains were. Many just took up whatever gig they could for economic reasons, but there were plenty of mercenaries or criminals that joined up. It wasn¡¯t my place to solve the systematic inequalities of the city, only to¡­ or maybe it was, now that I was a hero?


    //Clara: Targets moving away, hold for information.


    On the one hand, I didn¡¯t want to reveal my position or presence. On the other hand, my shotgun was rather insistent that I don¡¯t allow these thugs to desecrate any of the tombs here. As the henchman closest sunk out of view, I listened as he walked over to join the other two. Just as I was about to ask, Clara sent me over an overlay of the graveyard with current target positions.


    A simple square, near enough. A faint grid split it into twenty-five smaller subsections. I had entered the bottom at box twenty-three. Main tomb was at three, with Bonemeal at eight. A few henchmen clustered around that area. I was near fifteen, on the right side where three others were gathering. Equally, on the other side around eleven, there were another three. The rest were loose around the center. Too far from the villain to assist, but not exactly keeping guard or anything.


    Unless they were maintaining the tech to keep the shield over the area.


    //Clara: Estimating two minutes before a tomb is broken into.


    //Clara: Confirm next course of action.


    I closed my eyes for a moment and steadied my breathing. Gun-arm ready, I stood and made my decision.


    It was time to be a hero.

 114 - Grave Matters

    It had only been a matter of weeks since I had begrudgingly accepted the gift of the vocalizer. That same day, I had promised myself I wouldn¡¯t degrade into spouting cliche one-liners in the midst of battle. Now, the League had provided me a suggested list of phrases to use. An extensive one.


    As soon as my boots dug in and took me forward, all those practiced lines evaporated. For all that I wanted to play the part for the League, there was still a learning curve to it. Once I had committed to doing things my way, the old habits came immediately to the surface.


    I snaked between headstones, moving up closer to the henchman who had moved away from my hiding spot. Whatever advantage I had stealth-wise would be short-lived in such an open space. The quicker I could cut down the numbers of those opposing me, the better.


    There were three figures in range. One facing directly away from me, only a dozen or so feet ahead of my current position. Second was more to the left and further back, glancing at the third who was inspecting the tomb on the right. It was the second one that saw me first, his masked face turning to me just as I emerged from a row of shorter headstones.


    Nerve shot blasted out, striking him in the chest. He dropped what he was holding, clutching at his torso as he toppled, his brain imagining his ribcage burst open even though he had little more than scratches from the attack. I collided with the one right in front of me before he could spin around, launching him straight into a gravestone. Left arm extended, the grapple shot out at the third as he went to draw his pistol.


    Foam expanded and hardened, pinning his forearm to his side. Empty shell left the side of my gun-arm as I racked a new shot. Rappel line drew the furthest one closer to me. Before either of them had recovered, I fired into the head of the one by the tomb and set the foam to dissolve. Just as the cartridge left the chamber, I then swung down at the clambering henchman and struck him in the face, cracking his porcelain mask and probably his nose.


    A short series of events that rang out like the crack of thunder.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got company!¡±


    Very true. Before they had a chance to finish that sentence, I had pulled the pins of two smoke grenades from my chest. A large cloud of gray blossomed around me, obscuring the area. Flashes of bright red zipped through, illuminating the dense smoke as the henchmen fired their weapons. I was no longer there, however.


    Clara kept the map updated as the criminals changed positions. They appeared to be creating a semi-circle wall around Bonemeal. Staggered slightly, using the graveyard as cover, just as I was. Although I hadn¡¯t bothered tracking their Threat Level, it seemed as though they had a little more experience and skill than I had been expecting.


    While they continued to pierce the smoke with their potshots, I had moved deeper into the graveyard, ducking behind cover to circle around toward the northern tomb. Dropping the villain early would at least give me a morale victory that could cause the henchmen to break. If the goons tried to run, I had some confidence that the cops would be waiting outside the park to scoop them up.


    A few shots of me working alongside the police would do well for my image. Gross.


    Several more shots burned at the stone where the super-heated plasma struck, filling the area with an odd chemical smell. My re-breather cut most of it out, and as their blind-firing died down, I stopped and rolled behind cover. Other than the sound of cooling stone cracking, there was an amount of silence that washed through the area. Something I didn¡¯t want to interrupt by moving.


    My muscles tensed up as a rising hiss rolled around my ears, forming words.


    ¡°More fresh bones? Did the League send a lackey to become food for Lo¡¯pit?¡±


    The voice was unsettling, as if Bonemeal was sitting right beside me behind this large grave marker. He must have some way of projecting his voice. Before I could even send Clara a question mark, a notification pinged through, giving me some exposition.


    >Lo¡¯pit (loh~piy): An old god, known as the Great Vulture, Lingering Demise, and the Prophet of Inevitability. Modern worship is all but nil, with most of the churches and sects following him dying out around 6-700 years ago. Lo¡¯pit is said to be a hoarder of the dead, valuing those who had unique lives over those who lived a more mundane existence. Sects were often divided in belief about whether Lo¡¯pit desired the death of all things, or aimed at celebrating life through death.


    I skimmed through the text as quick as I was able. Short story seemed to be Bonemeal was a crackpot. While I knew I shouldn¡¯t be such a cynic given I knew that Belle seemed to have a very real connection to a deity¡ªor at least a powerful benefactor¡ªthe fact that this villain was trying to rob a wealthy tomb with his powers soured me on taking him seriously.


    Their volley of plasma had helped burn away at the smoke cloud I had left, assisting it with dissipating a lot sooner than I would have liked. If I was still standing there, at least. A team of three of them started to approach the location, breaking away from their defensive wall.


    ¡°It will be easier if you showed yourself now, maggot-food.¡±


    My expression dulled, realizing that I¡¯d have to put up with this lunatic whispering in my ear for as long as I wanted to do this the stealthy way. The League probably wanted me to jump atop one of these plinths and monologue to the bad guy before duking it out with them in a fair fight. I¡¯d get the results they wanted and look fucking good doing it¡­ but I now came to terms with my inability to hit the pantomime side of the job. They should just be thankful I wasn¡¯t straight up murdering everyone here.


    Perhaps not a thought helping my case.


    I blinked away the distracting thoughts and checked the map. Three more seconds, perhaps. The League was going to hate me. My left hand rose into the air, holding the small trigger with detonation button. One deep breath as the small dots moved into the area now shaded red. Clara really was good at this sort of thing. I pressed the button.


    The plastic explosives left on the gravestone before I had escaped the cloud of smoke erupted. Not close enough to the approaching henchmen to kill them outright, but between the blast-wave and shattered stone debris, they received enough damage to put them down. Six of the thirteen goons out of action already.


    Plenty of expensive collateral damage, I was sure. The dead wouldn¡¯t care.


    ¡°Fool! Lo¡¯pit seeks to pluck the thread of your mortality. Played like an instrument until¡­ something comes along to snip the wire.¡±


    The temperature of the area dropped suddenly, and I tensed up so as to not shiver. It wasn¡¯t just the ground where I was sitting sapping away at my body heat, but the air itself felt chilly. While my brain tried to pick out if this was a magical spell or not, a message from Clara took my attention away.


    //Clara: Villain is approaching. Be wary of


    //Clara: Dive left.


    I did as she commanded immediately, without question. Hitting the cold ground, I rolled forward to get as much distance from my place of hiding as possible. As I righted to a crouch behind another set piece, I noted briefly that this area wasn¡¯t so cold. A flash of blue filled my vision, as a long object spun straight through the gravestones, rotating in the place I was just sitting before it returned like a boomerang.


    It was maybe a little early to sus out what was going on, but I was willing to bet that Bonemeal had an ethereal weapon that he could throw, and the chilling effect was forewarning for where he planned to launch it. A leap to assume as much after one instance of the act, but part of my brain was confident about this. Of course, I had Analyze, so maybe understanding superpowers had seeped into me passively.


    In too much danger to continue patting myself on the back, I needed a plan. Plasma shots began raining down around the area. There was no chance they could hit me while I remained behind this cover¡­ but that was the point. Suppressive fire, while Bonemeal charged up his next throw.


    //Clara: Weapon appears to be a scythe. Summoned, and not physical.


    //Clara: I recommend avoiding it.


    A rather glib statement from her, given the circumstances. It hadn¡¯t felt magical, so casting Dispel on it was out of the question. My brow furrowed as my brain switched tracks to something adjacent and potentially more actionable.


    The League of Heroes wanted me to pull this off for pre-loading social media engagement, but with that device blanketing sound and vision into the graveyard, I wasn¡¯t sure how much footage they could easily get. It was somewhat likely they had their own drones in here, or something else that could remain hidden. Alternatively, I was doing all of this for no gain.


    //Dubs: Cloaking device?


    //Clara: There¡¯s a wheelbarrow-sized device that might be the cause.


    //Clara: Now marked on the map.


    A quick glance told me that two of the robed thugs had remained near it, closer to the center of the graveyard. Whatever it was, it must be important. Unfortunately, it was also out of my reach currently.


    ¡°Your writhing heartbeat betrays you, venomous worm.¡±


    Asking Clara if there was a chance she could stop my heart for a moment was probably a dead end I wouldn¡¯t escape from. Fitting place for such a dire ploy, however. My eyes went around to the surrounding gravestones as the temperature dropped once again.


    I suppose I should start taking this seriously.


    Flash grenade illuminated the area, the ringing daze fading from the criminals to reveal another cloud of smoke where I had been hiding. Scythe went out, piercing through the cover along the way but doing no damage. Plasma shots peppered the area, but not all of them went directly for the wall of gray - as they had anticipated I would have moved.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    As the scythe made a return journey to Bonemeal, a second Flash grenade went out. It was a long shot to expect the villain to have been put off by the bright light and miss the catch of his weapon. In fact, he had probably still caught it deftly. He probably would look incensed or overconfident, were it not for the next few seconds.


    The faux darkness washed away from the area, some ambient noise filtering in to our little arena. Lights from the surrounding streets and buildings filtered down, painting the scene in dim illumination. The drone wobbled as it escaped the scene of the crime, climbing higher into the air now that the obscuring dome had been deleted.


    More than just recon, she was providing tangible assistance to the fight. The first Flash had been so that she could dive into the smoke cloud without being spotted. I had attached an EMP grenade to the hovering drone with a small amount of the expanding foam. A risky maneuver, but she had then dived into the location of the unknown tech box as the second Flash covered her movement.


    It looked as though she had received a bit of damage herself, but the drone stayed aloft.


    //Clara: Moving to basi..c output. M¡­inor damage.


    //Clara: Maint¡­aining map.


    Her comms were coming through, distorted slightly, but I got the gist of it. It had been enough, and now it was up to me to mop up. The morale of the criminals would have taken a hit. Exposed to the city at large. If I wasn¡¯t mistaken, there were flashing lights of emergency vehicles painting the buildings on the street opposite past the treeline. Their time was up, and they knew it.


    I took the moment of brief confusion to really sell it. Shutting off the thinking part of my brain for a second, I swung myself up, standing up on one of the wide marble plinths. In clear view of all.


    [Desecrating the dead? Looks like you made a grave mistake.]


    There was a small chance those present would die of cringe, but I was willing to take that risk¡­ even if I would regret it long term. Instead, most of the henchmen took a while to take me in. I must look quite the sight. A mix of technology and sinister tactical gear, draped over with a thick wasteland survivor theme. Not a hero, I¡¯m sure their initial thoughts were.


    ¡°Kill him!¡± Bonemeal seethed, at the breaking point with how inept his goons had been this whole evening. Now I got to see him in all his glory as well.


    A robe, like his gang''s outfit, but more ornate. Faded blue and silver, with dark feathers sewn into the long sleeves. He was pale and bald, with eyes that screamed desperate mania and lack of sleep. The rest of his face was covered by a mask that resembled a long beak. Gold and sharp. His right hand held the ethereal scythe while in his left a human skull glowed a light blue.


    Threat Level 50.


    About where I expected a villain on his level to be, all things told. Definitely a potential danger to me if I let him get the upper hand. I tried not to think about how high Roxy¡¯s Threat was compared to this graverobber.


    His simple instruction was enough to bring the remaining goons out of their worried stupor. Despite me quickly dispatching several of them, they saw the villain¡¯s ire as more of a threat than whatever I had in my chamber. Nerve shot.


    Rather than jump down immediately, my synapses burned with fire as I activated Reflex. Adrenaline pumped around, mixing with the stims from the pack in my neck. I fired the shotgun on repeat, at much greater speed than was usually possible. Seven shots before my brain sunk back to normal speed. The empty shells bounced from the marble and down onto the soft ground.


    While I was usually an expert shot, the amount of minor cover in the area was an issue. Three of the henchmen took enough damage to knock them out, while a fourth only imagined he had lost use of his left arm. A shot toward Bonemeal had just been absorbed by some manner of shielding. I was filled with plasma shots more than jealousy over his protection.


    Taking the hint, I dove from my precipice into a hard roll, jolting my body as I slammed into the next piece of jutting stone. Three plasma shots had struck me, and the smell of melting leather filtered through my re-breather, drowning out all other odors. Two torso shots, and one to my left arm¡ªeach absorbed by my outfit¡ªstill burning away.


    The cooling temperature just made the points of burning energy even more prominent, and I grimaced. Twice I had escaped the scythe with a little misdirection and a handy dive. My feet were out-of-place due to my awkward roll, and Bonemeal would anticipate Smoke or a dodge again.


    ¡°Nowhere to run, little heartbeat. Lo¡¯pit judges your soul worthy of ascension.¡±


    I grunted and rolled my eyes. With my V-Force drive humming up to full power, I stood up to face him.


    The scythe came out, spinning like a top as it flashed through the gravestones between us. Blue light flickered as it dealt no damage to anything until it reached me. I watched as it spun through my legs before returning to the villain. It was ethereal. I took the gamble that if it didn¡¯t damage the stone, then it wouldn¡¯t be able to sever my legs.


    I was¡­ partially correct. One of the rolled dice was cocked.


    A chill ran through my legs. Not sharp, but as if I had stepped into a freezing pool of water. I went to step forward, but could not. Ethereal arms emerged from the ground beneath me, clawed hands grasping and raking at my legs. Frozen in place, feeling the scratching clutches of the damned, but my clothing was untouched.


    As agony wracked through my limbs, I raised my gun-arm up to the cackling Bonemeal.


    [A hero does not run from those who cause injustice. Let this be a judgement of your own villainous actions.]


    He looked as though he didn¡¯t agree with my statement and was about to object, but the crackling energy humming through my shotgun couldn¡¯t wait for a monologue to begin. Mentally, I clicked the trigger. End scene.


    Triple shot exploded from the end of the barrel, three doses of Tazer that overwhelmed whatever shield he had up. Bonemeal shuddered and flinched as the arcs of blue crackled along him, blackening parts of his robes.


    Still, it didn¡¯t drop him.


    With a growl, he recomposed himself, bringing up the skull in his left hand. Pools of bright red gleamed through the empty eye sockets as some manner of doom leveled my way.


    A spell, which I canceled out with my own Dispel. Then my gauntleted fist met his face, the mask shattering as I knocked him out. The piercing chill clawing at my bones started fading from my legs. My heartbeat rang in my head. The rest of me was on fire, after having used the emergency combat dose on my stims to power my legs through the ethereal restraints.


    Maybe doing that just so I could run up and punch him in the face wasn¡¯t the smartest choice. It was for the cameras, though. After spouting whatever nonsense I had said, it looked good to back it up with waltzing up to the bad guy and clocking him in the mouth. Viewers would love it.


    I shook out my hand and looked over to the side. The rest of the henchman had made a run for it. The flashing lights in the park and locked gates had sealed their fate, and as soon as the sound of sirens started up, I relaxed. Although, that could be the come-down from the stims wearing off. I would sleep well tonight.


    The drone hovered down beside me, still wavering as if it was drunk.


    //Clara: I¡¯m going to d¡­ock and switch to n¡­orma¡­l comms.


    I stood in place, my own energy sinking away as she haphazardly moved the drone into the attachments on my backpack. As it powered down, it was lifted into a vertical position and clipped in.


    //Clara: That¡¯s better. Great job, Gunquake.


    //Dubs: Thanks. You too.


    //Clara: I¡¯m going to need to twist some arms in regards to drone upgrades.


    //Dubs: What about this tech?


    I looked at the sparking box of¡­ whatever the cloaking device actually was. Feeling rather tired, I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what I could do with it. Too large to carry, and I wasn¡¯t likely to even get it past the wave of authorities out in the park.


    [What do you think?]


    My brain was too shredded to visually type out a message to the techie again. An ache still ran through my legs as they warmed back up, but it didn''t feel like any permanent damage had been done. No doubt Bonemeal intended to stick me in place and then repeatedly scythe or use one of his other actual spells to get rid of me.


    //Clara: Check the side. I believe I saw something.


    Against better judgement, I kneeled down. My eyes went over the side of the partially broken machine and clocked what looked to be a serial number.


    //Clara: Scanned. This one is fried, but that¡¯s a lead, at least.


    //Clara: Your vitals are lagging due to withdrawal, but you¡¯re unhurt.


    //Clara: Take a breath while you deal with the League and come home when ready.


    I nodded and stood back up with an extended sigh. Not too bad, all things considering. Nobody had died. There was some minor damage to some of the graveyard, but compared to being looted, I was sure this was a decent outcome. The League would probably blame it all on Bonemeal and his lackeys.


    With little else to do here, I set off towards the gates. With the amount of light now reaching the graveyard, I could see that the gates had been cut back open. The henchmen I hadn¡¯t shot were on their knees, hands behind their heads as a group of cops restrained them.


    I wondered how likely it was I could just skirt on by without being spoken to.


    ¡°Gunquake,¡± a voice off to the side stopped me in my tracks, just as I stepped into the now very cluttered park.


    My head tilted to the side as I turned to glance at who had addressed me. A uniformed woman, her blonde hair tied back beneath a black cap. She had sharp features and a cold intellect within her eyes that told me she knew what she was doing. Held some authority, no doubt.


    ¡°Captain Therta. I¡¯m head of the subgroup of the central police force that deals with taking in minor villains, hero and police interrelations, and pretending that something will eventually change in this city.¡±


    Her facial expression didn¡¯t budge at all, so I wasn¡¯t sure how much of that was a joke or the truth. She had the look of someone who was long term exhausted, but was devoted to her role. I jerked my thumb backward as a squad of heavily armored police marched into the graveyard.


    [They¡¯re all yours, then. A few injuries, but nothing dire.]


    ¡°Appreciated.¡± Captain Therta¡¯s eyes finally left me to glance behind. ¡°Looks like you got off lightly as well. Good. We always appreciate newbies who are effective and can do as they¡¯re told.¡±


    I took some offense to¡­ pretty much all of that. Perhaps that was partly due to my souring mood. Before I could vocalize a response, some clamoring from the side of the park drew both of our attentions.


    ¡°Ah,¡± she said. ¡°The actual trauma of the night.¡±


    The press.


    A barrier went across the entrance to the park, a waist-high wall with armed police stationed every few feet, keeping any of the public from getting in. Several figures were crowded around, various types of cameras or recording devices shining lights over toward us. Toward me.


    The Captain shook her head and brushed her jacket off. ¡°We¡¯ll keep them at bay. You can head out the back way. They would have gotten a few shots of you, which is probably all that the League wanted. A job well done, soldier.¡±


    I grunted and waved her off, not caring to engage further. More important than the little games and connections I had to start maintaining, I had a message from Roxy.


    //Roxy: You killed it, Dubs x


    //Roxy: So happy for you! I¡¯m on my way back home now x


    //Roxy: Will get that bubble bath started up ;)


    //Dubs: You are an angel.


    That sounded divine. I deserved it; I was sure. My mind dragged behind me as I passed through the exit, away from the lights and noise, down the street alone again. My bike was waiting for me there. It started up with no issue and took me down the road.


    //Clara: I¡¯m signing off for now.


    //Clara: Need to bathe and decompress before Rockslide gets here and pesters me.


    //Clara: Closing comms, but message if anything comes up, Gunquake.


    //Dubs: Take as long as you need, I won¡¯t be long.


    With how tired I was, I actually had a hunger burning within me. Without being able to stuff food down my throat, I was in a bit of a bind. Nevertheless, I found myself pulling over to the nearest shop. A small indoor market partially closed due to the time of day. Even if I couldn¡¯t absorb it till I got home, just buying it might help me feel a little contented and not so grumpy.


    I switched the bike off and stepped off onto the pavement. My eyes hesitated in my lens as I went to message one of the pair, before thinking better of it. They deserved some rest, and I¡¯d see them soon enough.


    Before stepping toward the illuminated door of the shop, I paused and instead looked over to the opposite side of the street.


    A tall building stood. Not unlike many others in the city that I had passed. Windows shuttered, with some minor graffiti on the worn boards. An office due for refurbishment, or something similar. That wasn¡¯t what had drawn my attention, however.


    There was something dragging at my conscious brain, similar to when I knew Silhouette was lurking around. It was different, not quite the same. I wanted to say¡­ dangerous.


    Leaving my bike behind, I crossed the road to satiate a different hunger now growing within me.

 115 - A Misstep

    As my feet took me into the alleyway beside the derelict offices, I made the mental note to question my current hunger later on. The times that I¡¯d had to use the emergency function of these stims had been few, and I wasn¡¯t sure if the desire to consume food was a side-effect we hadn¡¯t come across before.


    Part of me wanted to believe it was the old me remembering eating food from when I used to have a mouth. A terrible thought when combined with my recent bad mood over having a gun-arm. I had become an odd juxtaposition of being more of my own person as I strode to the future, but internally yearning for the scraps of my past.


    Something to worry about when I was soaking in a warm, bubbly bath.


    The alley itself was just about what I had been expecting. Refuse and debris. Dark, given the lack of street lighting thanks to the angle. A place long forgotten and unassuming.


    But I did assume it.


    Too practiced in sneaking through the shadows around some of the worst places in the city, I knew better than to dismiss appearances. Especially when I had a weird draw to come over this way. I tried to pinpoint which of my jumbled perceptive sense was sending the alarm in my head, but couldn¡¯t.


    There was the chance my fight and stim use had just knocked my brain a little loose, or I had some residual curse affecting my thoughts. In a moment of rare self-care, I brought up the Health Report into my lens.


    -Stim Withdrawal


    -Fatigue


    -Nutrition Low


    Interesting. I put the puzzle pieces together and guessed that they were all due to injecting most of my stim pack. The hunger was brought on by the cocktail of chemicals eating up whatever calories and residual energy my body had stored. A glance back to the alley entrance, and I resigned myself to plucking out one of my nutritional canisters from the bike storage once I had finished my detective work.


    It was no meal¡­ but I couldn¡¯t eat anyway, so I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what game I was playing here.


    I shook my head as I reached the end of the alley, my thoughts also hitting a brick wall. An overflowing dumpster and several waterlogged trash bags cluttered this area, with a boarded up side door the only other point of interest.


    Something familiar found its way through my re-breather. A smell that I¡¯d come across a few times in my past¡­


    I stepped forward, closer to the dumpster, and leaned in. Yeah, that was definitely it. Compound F, also known as ''the comfort'' or CF2 on the streets. A typical life-ruining gateway drug. Half the chemicals involved weren¡¯t even created in Goldarch, so it had always been a mystery to me how it kept cropping up in places.


    That said, now that I knew more about the city, I had some ideas.


    I had occasionally come across it when kicking the teeth of one of my contracts in. It was by no means a high-class drug, but like any illegal narcotics, it was always sought out. One contract was actually in a bedsit that had a little cooking operation going on, and if memory served, that all went up in literal flames when I was done. Although I had done my fair share of performance enhancers through the stim packs, Compound F had little real benefit.


    There wasn¡¯t even a high to chase. Just dissociation, escapism, and an ego boost. A spiritual pat on the back that also destroyed your internal organs. There was nothing better out there for self-confidence¡­ for as long as you could get your hands on it.


    To have such a large building this close to the city center either producing it or involved with the trade was appalling. I turned and grimaced at the small side door. At first glance it appeared nailed shut, the decaying boards preventing entry¡­ but a few moments of thought and I saw through the ruse.


    There was a clear gap through the trash on the ground that suggested the door swung outwards. Regular enough to prevent the grime and sodden refuse from building up over time. Without the light of day, it was hard to really do any further detective work, but I had a way to brighten my mood.


    I paused as I drew the torch from my vest. A residual wave of embarrassment vibrated through my skull as I remembered not only my cliche lines at the graveyard but also the puns.


    Who had I become?


    An easy question to answer. I simply excelled at whatever challenge was placed in front of me. Contract killer. Team leader. Wasteland mercenary. Boyfriend. Heroic media darling.


    I sighed and flicked the light on; the beam picking up particles of dust dancing through the alley. Puns, though? I really needed to keep myself in check. At first, the bright light didn¡¯t reveal anything else other than this place really needed a proper clean. Then I noticed etched words over the doorway.


    Subtle, filled in with mottled brown and black so that it almost faded in with the wooden frame. Camouflage and currently indecipherable. My hand raised, but paused. I had already been the hero. I was tired and hungry. I desired nothing more than to rest my legs and get into a bath with Roxy.


    The best thing to do would be to report this to the authorities. Law enforcement could handle it. Even it if was something more than a drug den¡­ then the League should be involved. Sure, I was figuratively a vigilante anti-hero, but I didn¡¯t get extra credit for shooting criminals in my free time.


    I cast Comprehend Languages, and the phrase was revealed to me.


    Down with the League of Heroes.


    I furrowed my brow. It was probably not an uncommon sentiment, especially for those hiding criminal activities. To write it in this unknown language above a doorway was either a petty jab about hiding in plain sight, or there was an alternate reasoning.


    [Up with the League of Villains.]


    One of the wooden boards clicked downwards slightly, at a slight angle. With how often my shots in the dark landed, I was starting to think I had echolocation. In truth, I had seen something similar in the past. Not a magical lock, but something that responded to a simple line repeated to it. It made sense that those who hated the League would champion their budding polar opposite, but I still chalked this down to luck rather than skill.


    I glanced back to the end of the alley. Returning to my bike and going home was the sensible option¡­ but I knew I¡¯d never be able to rest without knowing what was giving me the ick about this place. At that point, Roxy and Clara would rope themselves in, and the League would bust our balls for freelancing. It would be better for me to scout around quickly and dip once satisfied.


    If it was just a den of drug producers or traffickers, a few Nerve shots and I¡¯d call the League on the way home to smooth things over. Anything more than that and I¡¯d request backup. I¡¯d get home safe and in one piece. Surely.


    I gripped at the edge of the shifted board and pulled the door open slowly. The space revealed to me was only slightly less untidy than the alley, but at least had one dim bulb attempting to provide light. A stairwell leading to the floors above. Across from me was another doorway, cracked open by an inch. I took two brisk steps inside, allowing the door behind me to close quietly.


    The room ahead was noisy, with the sounds of several figures in discussion. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was a mild argument, or they were bantering about something, but the stronger smell of Compound F could only mean one thing. I paused and eyed up the staircase. Mentally, I made the note to ask Clara to test if the stim withdrawal affected my decision making skills.


    Despite knowing the answer already, I still walked toward the steps. Was it that part of me thought this strange feeling might be leading me toward one of my old squad members? Not exactly. While I didn¡¯t discount that, it wasn¡¯t likely. I trusted my intuition, and it was currently leading me to ascend further. If the lower floor was the drugs lab, what could be higher up?


    The next floor gave me a few answers. Another closed door, but the boxes on the landing drowning in small plastic bags made this likely to be where they packed things up and got the drugs ready for distribution. Why this wasn¡¯t on the ground floor, I didn¡¯t know. Seemed inefficient to have to bring things up and down the stairs. Too much cardio.


    I stepped quietly around the debris and made my way up to the next floor. This doorway was locked, and my common sense started to seep back into my mind. So far, this didn¡¯t look like the hideout of a League of Villains member, nor anything to do with the ¡®Dark Council¡¯. One brief look upstairs to see what was tingling at my nerves, and then I¡¯d dip out and just notify the authorities. I didn¡¯t have the energy to fight a gang of drug dealers.


    The next spiral of stairs flickered ominously as the dull bulb struggled to function. Aesthetics were on point, at least. Wallpaper long rotted and falling from the painted brickwork left piles of dried mulch around the edges of everything. Discarded trash and cigarette butts dotted the landscape from top to bottom. It was the type of authenticity you couldn¡¯t fake, which made me wonder how many pockets of blight lurked within the city. Too many to combat, and just enough to keep the heroes busy.


    I paused near the top of the staircase, where the door leading to the office floor was slightly ajar. Straining my ears, I couldn¡¯t hear anything at all from within. There was a lump in my skull telling me that it wasn¡¯t empty, however. I believed I was right and finished ascending up to this entrance.


    Pressing myself up against the wall, I leaned my head to look through the gap. The room within was rather dark, not lit at all¡­ but there were lights slightly further in other rooms. A brief corridor with offices on either side, perhaps. It might open up further in, judging by what illumination I could see.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    If the occupants of the building were aligned with villains in any way, then this is where there might be evidence. While some lower ranked villains might hobnob around with drugged out criminals, most had too much of an ego to run alongside gangs. Something about having actual powers made you feel above others. Ironically, that was a very human trait.


    I pushed the door open gently, waiting for the inevitable creak or groan. None came, until it was almost fully swung, but it just stuck to the mound of detritus up against the wall. The air up here was cool and calm. Not quite as chilly as my spar with Bonemeal, but it was certainly set apart from the workings of the lower floors. I briefly considered if Bonemeal was now going to be my nemesis. That would be pretty sad, if so.


    The first darkened room was indeed more of a corridor, just a little wider. Perhaps it held a printer or water cooler at one point in time. A place for people to stand around and have a break. Any furniture and furnishings had long been torn out or destroyed, leaving mysterious rectangle shapes of discoloration where they had previously lived. I moved through, keeping my eyes peeled at the two offices coming up.


    Both had windows covered on the inside with plastic slat blinds, clogged with dust and neglect. No lights inside, so I couldn¡¯t see what was in there. Perhaps those downstairs just used the space up here for sleeping. A temporary dorm so that they didn¡¯t have to wander the streets smelling like the foul chemicals they¡¯d been brewing. Or too out of their mind to find a place more fitting to rest.


    I passed by closed doors and continued to the open space beyond the offices. No doubt this had once been bustling offices, with tables and computers arranged in the most efficient way to fit as many low-paid workers in without them being able to interact with each other too much.


    Tired Dubs was quite the cynic.


    I let those thoughts linger for a second, my eyes passing over what was beyond the open space¡ªa few more offices along that side, and possibly a small elevator¡ªbefore clocking the table over to my right by the back wall. Compared to everything else in the building, it wasn¡¯t labored with an abundance of dirt and trash, but was relatively clear¡­ aside from stacks of paperwork.


    A treasure chest of potential clues just waiting to be plundered. There was even a dusty lamp standing at the side, as if it was illuminating the pages solely to draw me in. Well, my hunger couldn¡¯t resist. If this was Dark Council plans¡ªor anything similar¡ªthen the League would be pinning a gold star on my uniform before the day was out.


    Gun-arm at the ready, I stepped cautiously toward the table. I could use my lens to take photos of whatever information I could quickly gather, and then it would probably be a good idea to fess up to the others what I had been up to instead of coming home. Maybe I was just sour that I didn¡¯t get more injured in my semi-staged fight. I had broken more from the norm quicker than-


    Reflex burned through my system, but I still couldn¡¯t react quick enough. While my tired mind danced around idle thoughts, my eyes had been focused on the light of the lamp. Something had been waiting in the shadows to the right.


    An explosion took me from my feet, and I spun away, colliding with some empty shelving racks across the room. My vision was bright white, before it faded to black. Briefly, I feared my eyesight had been lost. I ignored the burning pain still humming at the front of my body while shards of the broken drone jabbed me in the back.


    I blinked and could finally see the outlines of things. My goggles had shattered, the green lenses falling out and thankfully not impaling my eyes. A burning smell filled my re-breather, the single use shield on my belt now completely burned out. V-Drive hummed into life as I tried to gain my footing. Out from the shadows, my assailant stepped into view.


    There was no question that this was a villain. A middle-aged man, gray hair running through his beard and his temples through otherwise dark brown hair. Muscles that could be seen through his super suit, the outfit a reflective silver, flecked with dancing crimson lights at his extremities. Deep red gloves and boots. A matching cape that wavered behind him as he hovered an inch off of the floor. Eyes that screamed bloody murder.


    I could put two and two together, even without the bag symbol on his chest giving the game away.


    Red Dust.


    ¡°You¡¯re a little too large to be one of the usual roaches scurrying about this damned place,¡± he begun, his voice deep and commanding. ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t respond at first, to the point where I briefly thought my vocalizer had become unattached. But, no. I was just taken by rage. Exhaustion took a back seat, long forgotten, as I found a very valid alternative emotion. Vengeance trickled through me, rivulets of pure violent intent.


    [Gunquake. I am your end.]


    Gun-arm flicked up and fired an Overcharged metal ball right at him, my chamber racking back and forth already to load in the follow-up. I stopped in place, briefly frozen, as the man caught the projectile right out of the air.


    With almost no change in facial expression, he crushed the solid steel ball in his hand, allowing the remnants to drop to the floor. ¡°Why would someone like you have such a death wish?¡±


    I cursed myself. A day where I had my wasteland loadout, or we had gotten the Sanguine stake shipment, and I would feel a lot better about this situation. As my anger boiled around, I tried to think of what his weaknesses would be.


    [You murdered the family of someone close to me.]


    Red Dust continued to stare at me blankly. ¡°That doesn¡¯t really narrow things down.¡±


    It unnerved me how dead his eyes were. Other than disdain for my existence, there was nothing else going on in there. For all the madmen and killers I had met in my life, this villain was truly dangerous. Without my lens I couldn¡¯t track his Threat level, or¡­ let the others know I had found him. I could use the STAR screen embedded in my wrist, but I doubted Red Dust would wait around for me to get it out and type out the message.


    [Your fight against Angel. In the suburbs.]


    In his first display of emotion, he sneered at me. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re a League fool. How eagerly you lap up their side of the story. Heroes can do no wrong, after all.¡±


    [You are saying¡­ Angel caused those explosions?]


    Red Dust raised his hand, palm faced towards me. ¡°I¡¯m saying, roach, that there is no ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®evil¡¯ as they try to convince you. Only fucked shades of gray. We play out these charades not by choice, but for survival. Shame that your final curtain call arrives with this revelation.¡±


    I dove to the side as his hand flashed bright red. The shelving units and part of the office wall behind it exploded outward, showering my rolling body with debris. As I righted back into a standing position, I loaded in a triple shot of-


    He was already here.


    A kick struck me in the chest and I flew backwards, slamming against the wall of the middle office and shattering the window inwards. Part of my ribcage had been bent inwards and was pressing against my lungs. I gasped for air as my head swam. Stims were dry, and I received no burst of painkillers.


    Red Dust appeared in front of me again, as if he had teleported. Not as fast as Roy, I was sure, but with how tired my brain was-


    His follow-up punch put me through the wall, across the dark office, and out the back of the next wall. I rag-dolled over the broken bricks before stopping against something metallic and wide. Left arm felt numb, but I¡¯d somehow managed to avoid getting my chest caved in further. Would probably be bruised in the morning. If I survived.


    Back up to my feet, I glanced around before aiming my Triple through the hole in the wall. Powdered mortar and flaking paint obscured where the villain might be. Current building was some manner of factory workshop. Plenty of workbenches and solid chunks of machinery for me to use as cover.


    I fired and then moved. Nerve, Tazer, and Smoke. Truth be told, I didn¡¯t expect to do anything to him with them. More time bought until I had a better plan. Any plan. I snaked between the built up machines as a gray cloud filled the office of the other building.


    ¡°A personal vendetta rather than sent by the League. You must be new, or half of your brain was replaced with faulty mechanical parts as well, if you thought coming for me was a good idea.¡±


    Telling him it was just a lucky happenstance would just give away my new position. I loaded my gun-arm with another metal ball, but if he could just catch them out of the air, then my only real option was¡­


    My muscles tensed up as a beam of light shot across the room. Twin beams, that were melting straight through the entirety of the room. Eye beams. I sat, crouched and motionless, as the attack stopped just a foot away from me. Glowing amber lines remained on the machinery, before each of them split apart along the melted sections.


    ¡­the only real option was something that hadn¡¯t really come up in my life. Realistically, I couldn¡¯t bullshit my way to a win in this situation. Unthinkable after all that I had achieved, but I just wasn¡¯t built to stand against a villain that was on the edge of S-Rank. My eyes went over to the side of the room. Windows leading back to the street. We were rather high up and my rappel was fresh out of foam. I might just have to eat the fall damage to get to my bike.


    ¡°Regardless. Now that you have found me, I have no option but to kill you. Throwing your life away for people I do not even remember, let alone care for, is shortsighted at best.¡± Debris shifted as Red Dust walked through the broken wall. ¡°Goldarch is due for a change, and soon enough, your life will be but a single tally amongst thousands. Goodbye.¡±


    I let off a Flash and Smoke grenade on my own position, using whatever energy I had left in my system to power forward. Three wide steps and the warmth of the laser eyes passed by me. I hit the glass, and it burst outwards. Vertigo, and then the solid street below. Air knocked from my lungs. Dislocated shoulder. My cybernetics scraped along the ground as I rolled to a stop.


    Pain shook my body, but I had survived it. I glanced over at my stationary bike and tried to push myself up. I could not.


    As I gasped for air, I turned to look at my uncooperative legs. Blood pooled out around me. Lots of blood. I had not escaped the eye beams at all. My lower legs were missing.


    An explosion rocked the building I had fallen from, and I looked up to see the silhouetted villain hover down out of the destruction.


    ¡°My laser would have cauterized the wounds, but the fall ruptured the injuries. You''ll just bleed to death.¡± His eyes were still cold and unmoving as he descended. ¡°Now you have made a spectacle of this. I¡¯ll have to relocate.¡±


    Blood continued to pump out of my stumps at an alarming rate. Light-headed, I tried to raise my gun-arm. The shotgun shook, but didn¡¯t rise to meet the man. I cursed¡­ everything. Red Dust raised up his hand, his palm illuminating with crimson light again.


    The surrounding air swirled as the explosion echoed around the empty street. Dark smoke washed away, allowing my dizzied eyes to frown at what was around me.


    A familiar domed shield.


    Captain Snaps put down Belle beside me, the two squaring up against the villain. I tried, but couldn¡¯t vocalize a warning.


    Red Dust sneered. ¡°I¡¯ll not waste my time with more League dogs. Keep your dying cripple, then.¡± He crouched slightly, preparing to leap up into flight.


    Although my vision was spotty, I watched as the villain paused in place, a torrent of intense wind pushing him down in place. He growled and glared up at Ren on top of the building. As he raised his hand toward her, a shadow dropped down. The impact vibrated through my body as broken shards of the street ejected from the landing place of the super.


    My vision started to fade away, and I felt cold. The enraged Roxy took one brief glance at me before grabbing the pinned Red Dust by the throat. As she lifted him up and he tried to pry her away, her hand burst into lava. I watched as her fingers melted through his neck, one last pained gasp escaping his mouth, right before I passed out. Poignant, maybe.


    Curiosity killed the cyborg. Or at least, I felt dead. My consciousness struggled to exist, wavering in and out while mixing with odd fevered dreams, to the point that I wasn¡¯t sure if anything was real or my brain was just giving up. Slowly. I tried to grasp at what seemed closest to reality.


    Flashing lights, sirens, and arguing voices.


    A familiar darkness and rumble that vibrated through my numb body.


    Then finally, bright lights. Some movement before I was stopped, stationary. Still laying down. Cold and dazed. Numb. Unable to move or speak.


    The last memory that sunk into my mind was a figure moving over me, blocking out the intense overhead lights. White apron and rubber gloves. A wrinkled face with a gray mustache and unkept hair. Deep green eyes looked me over, worry clear as day on his expression. I closed my eyes for one more sleep, as his words barely made it to my ears.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s you.¡±

 116 - A Step Backward

    I woke from an uncomfortable sleep, cold and in darkness. Restless and wanting to leave this hard bed. Unsure if this was part of the fevered dreams that had been flashing in and out of whatever nightmare I currently existed in. I remembered being close to death, but¡­ that wasn¡¯t exactly a novel experience for me.


    Shaking, my left hand came up awkwardly, fingers numb as I rubbed at my aching head. My hair was matted to my scalp as if I had been sweating profusely, despite freezing my ass off. Nothing on my torso, so that was probably why. Just shorts covering my modesty.


    With a grunt, I shifted and managed to sit up. Numb all over, and still dizzy. Surroundings were¡­ dim. Blocky shapes unfamiliar, not exactly hospital-like but adjacent. No clothing to put on that I could see - I¡¯d have to venture further to warm up.


    I moved down and shifted off onto the floor. Lower half was numb as well. So cold. I blinked my sluggish eyes and glanced over at a door.


    My hand was pressing against it before I even clocked that I had moved across the room. It opened easily, and I managed to stop myself from falling through. Looked like a waiting room or something. A mixture of comfortable armchairs and seats arranged against the wall. No handy fireplace, although there were a pair of green lights glaring at me through the darkness.


    ¡°You need to sit the fuck down, Gunquake.¡±


    The words struck me like lightning, sobering some of my errant thoughts. Memories clicked back into place.


    [C¡­ Clara? Why?]


    ¡°If your body rejects the cybernetics, you¡¯ll lose your legs for good.¡±


    I frowned and looked down. Dark metal in place of my usual feet, the replacement material extended up where my legs used to be and over my knees. The realization hit, and I took two steps before practically throwing myself on the nearest armchair. Clara was up and beside me in the same amount of time, putting the blanket she had been sleeping with over me instead.


    [Oh, I remember. I had my legs cut off. Things are somewhat muddled from the point I leaped from the window.]


    Clara sighed. She looked stressed, but stranger than that, also angrier than I¡¯d ever seen her. ¡°The necklace that Belle gave you tipped her off that you were in trouble. She messaged me and I gave her the coordinates of your bike. Captain picked her up to get her there in time, and Ren was closer naturally. Roxy arrived and¡­ put an end to Red Dust.¡±


    The memories came back to me. My team arriving to save my life. The way Roxy had killed the villain with no hesitation after seeing the state I was in. I could only imagine how she was feeling at that point. After glancing around the room again, I furrowed my brow at the techie.


    [Where is Roxy now?]


    Her expression dulled, and she sat on the chair to my right, putting her hand on my gun-arm. ¡°The League took her in. Killing a villain in the streets is¡­ Rockslide was so angry she almost went rogue right there. I convinced her to go along with it for now, because you didn¡¯t have much time.¡±


    We had brought our cavalier wasteland attitude into the city, but weren¡¯t outside of the law. Roxy was enraged and had killed Red Dust, instead of incapacitating him to be jailed. No matter what we thought about that, the League was heavily against it. Now I was¡­


    [You prevented them from taking me to hospital. I am¡­ this is where you are educated?]


    She nodded slowly. ¡°It was only due to the prior agreement in place that they eventually relented to allowing me to take you. Forgive me, but I thought Dr. Jarl would be able to do more for you than I could alone.¡±


    Looking down at the new metal parts attached to me, I was inclined to agree. Still, it was a lot to take in, and some things hadn¡¯t truly settled in to the part of my brain currently functioning. The images before I finally fell asleep flashed back into my mind. The good doctor knew who I was.


    [Where is Doctor Jarl now?]


    As if on cue, the door off to the side opened, and the man himself walked in. He looked tired and nervous, clearly not getting much sleep after the surgery. I fought the desire to leap from my chair and throttle answers from him.


    ¡°Gunquake,¡± he said. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be out of bed so soon.¡±


    [You did the original cybernetic work on me, didn¡¯t you?]


    His mouth opened and closed as he glanced between me and Clara, but no words came out. Eventually, he sighed and flicked the light switch on, illuminating the room. ¡°Let me pull up a chair, and I will answer any questions you have for me.¡±


    The brightness of the bulb made my eyes ache. I pulled the blanket away to inspect the damage properly for the first time. My chest was black and blue, bruised all over. Several stitches ran across my ribs. Below my compression trunks, my legs were equally discolored, especially near where the metal knee caps ran over my flesh.


    Clara drummed her fingertips on my shotgun. ¡°We had to cut your chest open to reset your ribcage, and then we also had to remove some of your legs over your knees so that the cybernetics would fit and be equal.¡±


    [They look¡­ nice.]


    I wasn¡¯t sure what to say. They were certainly better than having no legs, but given the Doctor¡¯s previous work on me, I was hesitant to jump for joy. Not just because of the potential gore explosion.


    ¡°I had to twist his arm to bring these out of storage.¡± She glared at him as he sat opposite us. ¡°They are more than nice, Gunquake.¡±


    Jarl gave me a sheepish shrug. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ the least I could do. Normally there are restrictions on higher Grade cybernetics and who I can put them on. Miss Clara made some¡­ convincing arguments for breaking protocol.¡±


    I imagined that involved plenty of threats, especially with my life and continued existence as a hero on the line. Internally, I cringed at the looming conversation about the mistakes I had made came up. For now, I leaned toward putting pressure on the doctor.


    [I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t hobble me with fucking terrible tech this time.]


    He held his hands up as if he was trying to prevent me leaping at him. ¡°It was under duress, I assure you. Your mask and the gun-arm were provided to me, and I had to do the best that I could.¡±


    I rubbed at my head. Some throbbing pain had started. Perhaps the pain meds were running out. I tried to ignore it by prompting the doctor for his tale. Given that I hadn¡¯t tried to shoot him yet, he seemed to be gradually calming.


    It turned out that part of the story we already knew, or had guessed at. What we didn¡¯t know were the origins. Doctor Jarl and Boss had been colleagues when they were much younger. Not exactly in the same field, but they swam in similar circles. One day Jarl fell foul of some laws with his work. He assured us it was nothing heinous, and for now I believed him, but if the scandal had gotten out, it would have been career ending.


    That¡¯s where Boss stepped in. He knew how to sweep things under the rug, and just like that, the Doctor¡¯s problems went away. A favor owed. They fell apart in the years after, as connections often do, until the day five or so years ago when Boss turned up with my half dead body and an eye on that festering IOU.


    Given that Jarl had become the most esteemed and well-regarded cybernetics expert on this side of the Grand Reef, he felt that he owed a lot to Boss. Even then, the job of working on me was something he took on begrudgingly. Not half because of what state I was in and what tech had been provided to install.


    I was made to be odd. Untraceable. Despite intentionally crippling me, my mouth had been removed so that I could not speak and be recognized, nor cast spells the traditional way. With my super soldier experience, I could learn to use any weapon over time¡­ so the near archaic shotgun wasn¡¯t too much of a liability. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°Miss Clara has informed me that she is working on a new arm, Gunquake.¡± Doctor Jarl rubbed at his chin. ¡°I would like to offer my assistance.¡±


    [That¡¯s entirely up to her. I am actually wondering if you are able to graft me a new mouth.]


    He immediately grimaced before he could regain some composure. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ not impossible. I was not instructed to make it easy to revert the work that I had done to you, so it¡¯s not a simple process. It would be expensive and very labor intensive. Depending on how realistic you wanted to go, some materials or parts are restricted or not easily obtained legally.¡±


    The doctor was telling me the chance was slim, but if the stars aligned¡­ he wouldn¡¯t say no to doing the work. Whether that was due to guilt or the challenge of it, I didn¡¯t care. A small chance was better than none.


    [Shame. I am still hungry and wish I could eat.]


    Clara furrowed her brow. ¡°We¡¯ve been replacing your nutritional canisters as needed. You should have sufficient energy.¡±


    The doctor nodded, but also furrowed his brow. ¡°While that is true, this might be a side effect of no longer taking the¡­ canisters that made you forget.¡±


    I chose not to press him on that. We all but knew the old stims and canisters Boss gave me were suspect, and ditching them was a good idea. My body was shedding that shell and so much of my past was now coming back to me.


    [Muscle memory, then. My body is now remembering the process of eating food, bringing about a faux hunger.]


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    Terrible. If this was going to be a common issue, then we needed to find a way to make my body stop with the complaining. It was bad enough that I had almost died, but now I had to listen to a grumbling stomach?


    ¡°Please excuse me, you two.¡± Jarl stood from his chair and gave us a brief bow. ¡°I need to let the League know of your condition.¡±


    ¡°They wanted hourly updates if I was to take you away,¡± Clara confirmed.


    We watched him leave, and as the door shut, I turned my head to the techie.


    [You¡¯re pissed at me, aren¡¯t you?]


    She rolled her eyes and exhaled through her nose. ¡°Partly. I blame myself for being complacent and leaving you on your own for five minutes. Had I known you were going to pick a fight with¡­ him¡­¡±


    [If it makes it any better, I didn¡¯t know it was Red Dust there. I had an intuition when I pulled up outside that shop and investigated the building. Had I known, I would have stayed well away, as promised.]


    Clara¡¯s cybernetic eyes tried to read at my facial expression, before she eventually gave up. ¡°I believe you, Gunquake. A mixture of bad luck and happenstance that almost gets you killed sounds exactly like a Gunquake thing. If you hadn¡¯t fostered such a good relationship with the team, you¡¯d be dead.¡±


    [I owe them a great deal of thanks. Did the League take them in too?]


    She shook her head. ¡°Just Rockslide, but they¡¯ve been instructed to lie low and out of the public eye until this is all dealt with.¡±


    I nodded. If I knew Roxy, then she would be simmering away at present, being locked up and not knowing what had happened to me. Surely they would let her know I lived, at least. They were lucky she was going along with what they wanted. I¡¯m not sure how long that could last, and what repercussions would come from the¡­


    My train of thought ground to a halt as the door opened again, but this time, the doctor had somebody else behind him.


    Director Kingston.


    ¡°Apologies,¡± Jarl said, gesturing the man in. ¡°Normally a patient in such condition wouldn¡¯t be allowed visitors, but I had to make an exception.¡± That meant he had no choice, rather than being enthused about the idea.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised to see him up and sitting, actually.¡± The Director raised an eyebrow and looked for a chair to bring into our little group.


    The doctor wrung his hands and gave me a disapproving look. ¡°Were Gunquake any ordinary person, he would be laying on in the theater room floor bleeding out from the cybernetics rupturing from their settings. Among his many talents, tech grafts almost as well to him as skin would.¡±


    [I guess you could say I¡¯m just built-]


    ¡°I¡¯ll be frank with you, Gunquake,¡± the Director interrupted as he sat down. ¡°You¡¯ve really thrown the shit into the fan tonight.¡±


    [Oh, did I do poorly in the Bonemeal fight?]


    ¡°No.¡± He worked his jaw. ¡°That was, in fact, very successful for your first mission. Fans will eat up the cheesy one-liners and the bravado of brute-forcing your way into throwing fists at the bad guy. No deaths and minimal collateral.¡±


    I glanced at Clara. Red Dust had insinuated that Angel caused at least an equal share of the property damage in their fight. There was a non-zero chance that the S-Rank hero had actually killed the techies parents. Still, that was the words of a murderous villain. He had no reason to lie, but I wasn¡¯t going to take it as gospel, either. It wasn¡¯t worth dragging Clara back through the mud until I had concrete proof, so if she had some closure now, I¡¯d let it lie. I wouldn¡¯t forget, though.


    [Ah. You must be annoyed at me accidentally stumbling through a drugs lab into the escaped supervillain.]


    ¡°You don¡¯t seem to be taking this very seriously.¡± The Director flexed out his fingers before placing them together. ¡°Rockslide murdered someone in the open streets of the city. You may be used to vigilante justice and disregard for life, but the laws of Goldarch¡ªespecially the ones governing heroes¡ªare very rigid and paramount to things running smoothly.¡±


    [Is she being charged with murder, then?]


    Kingston rolled his tongue around his teeth, giving the reluctant words a taste before he spoke. ¡°Normally, perhaps. Do you remember, Gunquake, that I said I would owe you a favor?¡±


    [I do.]


    He extended his open palms as if he was revealing a magic trick. ¡°I am pulling what strings I can to get her out of this bind. Any data about the event is being scrubbed. Information diluted and obscured. Thankfully, there were few eye witnesses. Rockslide is too good of an asset to sit rotting away in prison, but actions have consequences. One of the other Directors was calling for her to be branded a villain, before I reminded them what she is capable of.¡± Kingston sighed and deflated. ¡°This isn¡¯t without conditions, however.¡±


    The fact that I had Director Kingston on my side had turned into more of a boon than I first thought. Of course, I hadn¡¯t imagined that Roxy would straight up kill someone and need to be bailed out of confinement. I gestured for him to continue.


    ¡°You will be expected to follow whatever narrative we give you in regards to tonight''s events. Murder aside, the Natural Disasters proved themselves to be a competent and functional team that many others in the city could learn from, and in normal circumstances, I would love to lavish praise and tangible benefits upon you. Due to the what transpired, however, the team¡ªand any member thereof¡ªwill receive no benefits from anything that comes from Red Dust¡¯s death. No financial bonus, no viewership or promotional ties, and no glory.¡±


    [Acceptable.]


    No doubt that would have been the opposite had Roxy just subdued the villain, but you couldn¡¯t fix a broken egg. We¡¯d move on from this and the radio silence might even be better for Clara, rather than having that ¡®win¡¯ touted around Goldarch constantly.


    ¡°Furthermore, Rockslide will no longer be the leader of Natural Disasters.¡± Kingston regarded me intently, probing for my reaction. ¡°She has proven too hot-headed for the role and the League feels she could lead you all astray if her anger continues unchecked.¡±


    I nodded slowly. If prompted, I was sure they would all support me in stepping into that role. My confidence wasn¡¯t quite there yet, as I was the one who got us in this hot water to start with. Kind of a moot point when I couldn¡¯t even walk at the moment. A bridge we could cross when I could.


    [Understandable, we will find a solution.]


    The Director gave a brief nod in return, accepting my neutral diplomatic response. ¡°Finally, Clara has ruffled too many feathers by taking you away from the League medical facilities. While I know she knows you best and puts your survival as the highest priority, it is against many policies as she does not have any of the necessary licenses or education to be-¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Doctor Jarl interrupted. ¡°If they both consent, I will become their primary care agent.¡±


    Kingston raised an eyebrow and rubbed his thumb along his index finger. ¡°Of course, the reason we are having this meeting here is that I believed you would make such an offer. It would allow the League to overlook the use of the restricted leg cybernetics, while keeping Gunquake within a familiar medical sphere.¡±


    I glanced at Clara, who seemed to be mulling over the options. If she had managed to pressure the doc into fixing up my legs, then I had no doubt she could continue to keep him working for my benefit. As for me, I appreciated having allies that would keep me alive and kicking. Maybe¡­ less of the latter for a while.


    ¡°It would be in our best interest to agree,¡± she decided.


    [Then we accept that proposition.]


    The director nodded to us both. ¡°The paperwork will reach you soon, then.¡± He paused to sigh, rubbing at his eyes. ¡°Too much work has been put into the team reveal, so delaying it isn¡¯t much of an option. One member in jail and the other unable to walk isn¡¯t an ideal start, but only one of those things I can change. How long will Gunquake be out of service, Doctor?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say. A normal man would take¡­ several months to be back to one-hundred percent. Gunquake could take weeks, or even days. I have not worked on anyone with his unique physiology before to give an accurate timescale.¡±


    A partial lie, as he definitely had worked on me before. Created me, even if it wasn¡¯t by his design. I¡¯d get him to share everything he knows about me with Clara later on. Have them both on the same page as much as possible. With her ingenuity and his experience, the rate at which I could gain upgrades may increase.


    [I will follow my medical team¡¯s advice, but will push to be back on my own two feet as soon as possible.]


    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt it.¡± Director Kingston gave me a glum smile before pushing himself up off of the chair. He brushed down his suit before regarding us all. ¡°If you feel you can trust Doctor Jarl, then you may avail him of all the details of any of our arrangements. Knowing you, Gunquake, I trust that you will uphold our agreement. Just¡­ try not to get in trouble for a few days, okay?¡±


    [Understood. You have my word.]


    Kingston gave the others a nod as he dismissed himself, moving over to the door.


    [Oh, Director? The event happened in the center of the city. Did any of the teams assigned there turn up?]


    He shook his head, pausing in the open doorway. ¡°With the Natural Disasters on the scene, we didn¡¯t feel any need. The police dealt with the drug dealers. Take care.¡±


    The waiting room fell into silence as we were left alone, aside from the occasional growl of my stomach. My thoughts immediately switched to Roxy and home. I missed them both. That, and having my own legs. Some warm clothes, as well.


    ¡°There was one hero who turned up on the scene amongst the chaos, Gunquake.¡± Clara held my gun-arm and looked up at me.


    [Oh? Who was it?]


    ¡°Angel.¡±

 117 - Standing in Place

    The next few hours were reasonably miserable.


    I wasn¡¯t sure what to think about Angel arriving on the scene. Perhaps just some professional interest, as she was the one who had gotten Red Dust locked up originally. I didn¡¯t know what kind of person she was, but from what I knew about heroes so far, I imagined she was anything but what her title suggested.


    Fever struck me on and off. I switched back and forth between chills, sweating, and a grumbling hunger. With the use of a wheelchair, Clara and the doc managed to get me back on the hospital bed I had escaped from. Painkillers had me woozy as soon as I struck the pillow and I tried to sigh away all this trauma.


    One of the two gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. Told me they were going home for proper rest and more words I couldn¡¯t process. I liked to think it was Clara, although in this state I¡¯d take any comfort offered.


    A dreamless nap later, and my eyes opened with a little more clarity. The bed beneath me whirred as it raised me into more of a sitting position. I looked over to the side to see the doctor on a stool. He looked tired, but less nervous than¡­ whenever I was last awake. There were no windows here to really tell what time of day it was.


    [Where did you get all the blood transfusions?]


    ¡°Good morning to you too.¡± Jarl gave me a dry smile before stepping over to me. ¡°Short answer is you replaced it all yourself.¡±


    [Oh. The nanites?]


    ¡°Generally, yes. It¡¯s an energy drain, which is why you¡¯ve had the fever and require frequent rest. I¡¯m sure you are no stranger to sleeping a long time after severe injury.¡±


    It didn¡¯t take long for my brain to latch on to that being the truth. Many of my post-contract days had been spent in a partial coma while I miraculously recovered. I had thought it was just my latent magic gradually fixing me, but it sounded like that wasn¡¯t the entirety of it.


    [You¡¯re not the one that gave them to me, though?]


    He shook his head and went over to a tray to bring a metallic device into his hand. ¡°Part of what makes you a super soldier. Your reflexes, durability, and decision making all owe some thanks to the nanites. Without boring you with the details, the brief knowledge I have gained from studying them is that they are a unique blend of technology and magic.¡±


    [Like tiny robots inscribed with runes to empower certain effects?]


    The doctor paused, looking over from the held item to me. ¡°That is perhaps the most succinct and accurate description that could fit in one sentence, yes. Miss Clara explained to me the circumstances that led to you having that hand-print scar, a metal ribcage, and a bloodstream full of powdered arcane crystal.¡±


    [She hadn¡¯t mentioned me before at all?]


    ¡°No.¡± He moved over to the bed to stand beside me. ¡°Only that she had a friend with some basic cybernetics. It¡¯s not uncommon for those in the field¡ªespecially those with cyber parts themselves¡ªto have a social circle that includes those with tech. It was¡­ quite the shock for her to show up with you, of all people.¡±


    Bleeding to death sans legs probably assisted with that surprise. I already knew why she hadn¡¯t told him about me. She wanted to spring the question about getting my mouth replaced eventually, but didn¡¯t want her education to seem like a way of getting cozy with the doc so that he would say yes. He was my best chance, even though it still seemed narrow and distant at this stage.


    [I forgot to thank you for agreeing to become in charge of me, medically. That can¡¯t have been an easy decision.]


    ¡°To some degree.¡± His eyes darted over my gas-mask as he stood, before he made eye-contact again. ¡°I¡¯m an old man, Gunquake. While I do not regret not having children, there is a part of me that imagines if I had¡­ then Miss Clara is the sort of daughter I would have wanted. Ingenious, studious, and strong-willed. Even if we didn¡¯t have a prior connection, I may have agreed just based on how much she cares for you.¡±


    [She has saved my life several times. I am lucky to have her.]


    Jarl nodded and held up the silver object he had in his hand. ¡°Perhaps we can start changing things so your life isn¡¯t governed by luck so much? If you are tired of your STAR system being tied to your goggles, I can give you the modern ocular version?¡±


    Given that he was standing right here holding it ready, I assumed he expected me to agree to it. At a guess, the STAR unit embedded in my left arm was something from my super soldier days. Roxy and the other heroes had this ocular version, which was a projection similar to my lens¡­ but with holographic screens only I could see. If I had that, I would have been able to request help sooner against Red Dust.


    [How invasive is it?]


    ¡°Just an incision along your temple,¡± he replied, gesturing to the side of my head. ¡°It takes a few hours for your brain and eyes to get used to the screens, so while you¡¯re bed bound it will be a good opportunity to make the adjustment.¡±


    I grunted and gave him a nod. If he had any more ulterior motives, he could have done a lot worse already. He was smart enough not to make an enemy of Clara and the League, and I had nothing but earnest vibes from him since I had arrived. I wasn¡¯t a fan of ¡®bed bound¡¯, however, and planned to escape as soon as I could get away with it.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be put out for about ten minutes. It can be done live, but¡­ the brain isn¡¯t a fan and might reject it.¡±


    [Do what you need to.]


    He did. I needed the rest, anyway. There was a brief dream that slid across my tired mind, but it didn¡¯t really settle. Another quick show of shadows and rain, the smell of blood quickly replaced by some form of antiseptic as I woke up.


    ¡°Successful,¡± the voice of the doctor came from my side. ¡°It works via your synapses, so practice with controlling your thoughts to bring up the menu.¡±


    I blinked a few times, just staring up at the blank ceiling. The overhead light had been moved away so that I had a blank canvas - no doubt allowing me a decent chance to get used to the new STAR without my brains leaking out.


    A shimmering green screen, rectangular and fuzzy, appeared in the top left of my vision. I winced and exhaled slowly as it faded into higher detail. White text came into view, giving most of the same options that my lens-based version had. I skipped past most of them, especially my Health Status screen, to check the flashing Messages button. It was already synced up with my normal account.


    The Natural Disasters chat room was full of well-wishes from the other three. They¡¯d been given the order from the League to not bother me in person, which was a shame. Clara had probably let them know I hadn¡¯t died, at least.


    A new message chain was also waiting for my attention. Director Kingston, my manager Stacy, and someone named Len B who I hadn¡¯t spoken to before.


    The League had decided on the narrative.


    After beating Bonemeal, I had run into a gang and gotten into a fight. They were hinting as it being revenge for the graveyard stunt, but not saying it outright. Red Dust had arrived¡ªthe puppet master for the minor villain, apparently¡ªand the not-yet Natural Disasters had turned up to protect me. Not entirely incorrect, to some degree, but the next part was bound to ruffle some feathers.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Roxy hadn¡¯t killed Red Dust. In fact, the League were pushing the story that the super was injured in the fight. The villain was instead captured, put into custody and a more secure jail cell by none other than¡­


    Angel.


    I understood it. She had been on the scene and had put him away the first time. The League must have made sure there were no recordings of Roxy¡¯s angered murder. I was anticipating them going for a self-defense ploy, given that she was trying to stop Red Dust from turning me¡ªand perhaps the rest of the group¡ªinto shredded meat.


    Looked like they wanted to spin it even more favorably towards their own success.


    My feelings over it were¡­ muted. I didn¡¯t care much for the glory of getting rid of Red Dust, and I¡¯m sure Roxy would be content enough for things to be swept under the rug. At the end of the day, it was a good enough ending that I was alive, and I hadn¡¯t fucked the team¡¯s chances of making a dent into the Goldarch rankings.


    It also sprung to my mind that Roxy was capable of killing S-Rank strength supers under the right circumstances. I needed to get stronger.


    With a sigh, I closed the STAR windows down to look over at the doctor.


    [Simple enough. What can you tell me about my new legs?]


    ¡°Perhaps I am biased, Gunquake, but once you get used to them, they may be better than your original ones.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow as he stepped back into view. Not the best audience to admit to that I preferred my meaty parts. I wanted a hand and a mouth again, so furthering my descent into being a mechanical being wasn¡¯t ideal. Still, every cloud had a silver lining. After allowing the silence to sit for a few moments, he continued.


    ¡°You are familiar with V-Force, correct?¡±


    I nodded and watched as he stepped down the bed to be aligned with my metal legs. With a finger out, he tapped on my shin. I¡­ felt it. Not quite the same as if he was touching my skin, but there was some actual feedback beyond just the vibration from the light strike.


    ¡°These are also powered by that, however, their actual use will come later. First, you need to learn to walk, and then to run. Then we can get into more advanced training, and your synapse connection will allow you to spool energy into your legs.¡±


    [Are we talking¡­ the ability to jump higher and land from great heights?]


    Doctor Jarl gave me a brief smile. ¡°Not exactly. You won¡¯t be able to follow in the footsteps of Rockslide, but next time you decide to leap from three stories up, you¡¯ll be able to walk away relatively unharmed.¡±


    [Could I kick people really hard?]


    ¡°Undoubtedly.¡± He tilted his head. ¡°I understand why Clara has an interest in you as a guinea pig, when your recovery from surgery is practically unheard of. From your facial reaction, you can already ¡®feel¡¯ through your legs. That usually takes at least a week for most patients¡­ then again, the number who have this Grade of tech available is very few.¡±


    [You said it was restricted or something. Is there anything else useful you could give me off the record?]


    Jarl narrowed his eyes and sighed. Without answering immediately, he turned and walked over to the cabinets off at the side of this operating room. ¡°Technically, the upgraded STAR is meant to be signed off before being provided to anyone. Aside from that, nothing else at this stage. Not only so I can avoid getting in hot water with the League, but there¡¯s only so much your body can handle. Too much and the uptake of your leg usage is delayed.¡±


    I did want to be up and moving as soon as possible. In the next ten minutes would be preferred, but I could hang about for an hour at most. I knew that it would be longer, but didn¡¯t want to address it.


    [Did Clara give you the data feed of my current health status and the like?]


    ¡°Full access while you¡¯re under my care. Emergency notifications only, once you¡¯re out in the world.¡± He sounded as though he thought emergency alerts would be a rarity. Not if I could help it.


    A wave of comfort ran through me, as my stim pack decided that my body needed more time to recover. Who was I to disagree? I closed my eyes and relaxed. Time asleep would help with my recovery magic. While my brain tried to find somewhere to settle, the doc reeled off all the injuries I had sustained, but had healed already. Not quite the bedtime story I was hoping for, but it was reassuring in some way.


    Shoulder hadn¡¯t just been dislocated, but had shattered from the socket and split along to my elbow. Minor fracture to my skull, and some burns around the parts of my body where my tactical gear was thinnest. Bruising almost head to toe¡­ not that I had toes at the time. An extreme amount of blood loss that¡­ something or other. I fell asleep before he could fill me with the rest of the details.


    I dreamed about kittens. It was concerningly off-brand, and I willed myself awake to avoid it.


    The doctor had left at some point, or had shapeshifted into Clara.


    ¡°Looking after you in shifts,¡± she explained, giving me a glum smile. She had pulled up a stool beside the bed and was reading through her notepad.


    [How many days have I been here? Weeks?]


    ¡°Just over twenty-four hours.¡±


    [Interesting.]


    Confusing would have been a more accurate reflection of how I felt about it. I had been in and out of sleep so many times, and there was no natural light, that it felt like so much longer. The fact that I had made the recovery that I had in such a short time explained the pair of them praising me for it.


    ¡°I can feel your desire to get up and walk, Gunquake.¡± Her green eyes went across the pages of her notes as she flipped through the paperwork. ¡°It would be reckless for me to allow it.¡±


    [Would it?]


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I looked down at the offending limbs. Even if my body was adapting quickly, I still saw two stumps and two lumps of metal. They didn¡¯t feel like me yet - a mental problem only time might heal.


    ¡°Doctor Jarl said that you are able to feel through your legs. While I am normally all for pushing your to your limits, Rockslide might actually murder me if I cause you further complications.¡±


    [Speaking of Roxy, where is she? I had assumed she would have kicked the door in by now, or at least sent me a message.]


    ¡°The League is still keeping her under wraps. Despite their new narrative for the current events, they require Rockslide to stay in for¡­ corrective measures. They are giving me only limited information, so I do not know how long she will be held for.¡±


    She actually looked rather sad about that, which was good because I felt even worse. Part of me still had the fire within to want to burst into the League and free her. Maybe we didn¡¯t have to stay in Goldarch. There would be other cities where we¡¯d be the cream of the crop when it came to power, and wouldn¡¯t need to jump through these banal hoops.


    Of course, that left us on our own and under the microscope of the World Government. I was already high on their hit-list¡­ a stronger super gone rogue would give them even more ammunition to hunt us down. Despite my growing disdain for the game that needed to be played here, we were actually building up a safety network that empowered us.


    With Red Dust in the dirt, we shouldn¡¯t need to worry about stepping outside our defined circle any more. I turned my head to the techie.


    [How do you feel about everything? With Red Dust dead, I mean.]


    Clara pulled a face and looked away from her notes to regard me. ¡°It¡¯s some degree of closure. Did he get what he deserved? Perhaps. It doesn¡¯t bring my family back, but I¡¯m petty enough to revel in a little vengeance. I¡¯d¡­ much rather you still had your legs, however.¡±


    [Oh? I thought you¡¯d prefer me to become more of a machine.]


    She shook her head and returned to her book. ¡°No. I care about you and¡­¡± Clara paused and looked at me again, this time with a frown on her face. ¡°Gunquake, I am very close to asking Doctor Jarl if there is a way to allow me to physically cry, as I do not feel it is fair that you keep putting me through these situations without the capacity to express it visually.¡±


    [I¡­ apologize.]


    ¡°I know.¡± She stood up from the stool and placed her book on it. ¡°You¡¯ll be making it up to me soon. I¡¯m going to the bathroom. Try not to harm yourself within the next five minutes.¡±


    [I¡¯ll do my best.]


    I watched her leave the room; the door stopping an inch away from closing. I heard the next door to the waiting room close, but didn¡¯t know where she went after that. Leaning forward, I looked at her notes. Something to do with my new arm. There were some magic symbols that resembled the runes from the ancient mecha, alongside sketches of the artefact we had stolen.


    With a sigh, I relaxed. A brief delay to my progress, but once things started picking back up, I¡¯d be stronger and-


    The room vibrated slightly. My brow furrowed. From somewhere deep within the building, there was a bang.


    Was Clara okay?


    I leaned over to the side and grabbed the pen she had been using. Gun-arm chamber opened up, and I slapped it in. V-Force drive hummed into action as my heart rate increased. There was a second loud noise, this one slightly closer.


    Taking in a deep breath, I slid from the bed onto the floor. The tiles felt cold, and I registered the pressure beneath my metal sole. No pain, but perhaps the adrenaline was helping with that.


    A few cautious steps and I pushed through into the waiting room as a third sound echoed down from the corridor beyond the door to the left.


    Overcharge hummed through my weapon as I felt dizzy and disorientated. Shotgun raised to point at the entryway ready, my throbbing heartbeat drowning out any salient thoughts.


    Footsteps, and the door opened. Not Clara. Hesitation struck us both, rooting us in place.


    A couple of seconds of silence passed. The person fully dressed in black with a hood pulled over their head stepped in through the opening.


    I furrowed my brow, confusion across my face.


    [Roxy?]

 118 - Best Foot Forward

    If it had been anyone with malicious intent, I was sure I would have been easily killed off. The fevered thought of it being someone avenging Red Dust quickly washed away as soon as the shadowed figure before me pulled down their hood.


    Despite the dark circles around her dull eyes, there was no mistaking it for being anyone else but Roxy. She looked terrible, any sign of her usual energy drained from her tired expression. My V-Force drive snapped off, allowing the loaded pen to fall straight from the end of the barrel to the floor.


    Before I had the chance to move or allow my brain to tick over to the next thought, she was upon me. Enveloped in a hug. I held her in return, as best as my tired arm and awkward shotgun were able. The warmth was comforting. At first, I thought she was getting super-heated and her head was melting through my neck, but the warm rivulets running down onto my chest were tears.


    [I missed you.]


    She moved her head back to look me in the face. I had never seen her in such a sorry state, and it was heartbreaking. Her lips quivered as she tried to return the phrase, but it was unnecessary. I could tell. Apologetic, regretful, and guilty. She would do it again in a heartbeat, of course, just as I would kill to save her. After a couple of moments of unspoken understanding, she put her head beside my neck again.


    ¡°I thought¡­ I¡¯d lose you,¡± she managed.


    [There¡¯s too much for me to do. It¡¯s not my time.]


    ¡°So much blood¡­ and your legs¡­¡±


    [Now I am even more of a machine.]


    She squeezed me a little tighter. ¡°But no less of a man.¡±


    Any intention of winding up the thoughts to tell her how much I appreciated that sentiment blew away with a sigh, as a familiar set of light footsteps came up to the door.


    ¡°I do hope you are not a fugitive, sister. Plus, Gunquake is not allowed to be standing.¡±


    Roxy turned us both to face Clara standing in the doorway. ¡°I¡¯ve been holding him up, as I thought that might be the case.¡±


    Of course, she could lift me with ease due to her strength. While having my legs dangle a couple of inches from the floor was probably still not the correct amount of rest, it was better than the pressure of me standing up. Plus, trying to walk around seemed to amp up any fever and delirium within seconds. My body was trying to tell me to stay put.


    ¡°Fantastic. Then please put the patient back in his bed.¡± The techie had her arms crossed, still not pleased with the two of us. I could tell that behind that, she was torn up with how upset the super looked. That, or my mind was getting close to shutting down, and I was making things up.


    Roxy walked me gently back to the recovery room and laid me down like I was an oversized doll. I let out a long, exasperated sigh at being back in this temporary tomb, and looked up at the sad hero.


    [You aren¡¯t a fugitive, right?]


    ¡°No.¡± She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve and returned a sigh. ¡°The League let me go, but suggested I go home to sleep before seeing you.¡±


    [I feel guilty then, if you haven¡¯t slept. That¡¯s all that I¡¯ve done, pretty much.]


    She gave me an exasperated smile, emotions still wavering across her face. ¡°I came so close to turning rogue and burning the city to the ground. For your dumb ass. I must be mad.¡±


    ¡°Madly in love,¡± Clara interjected, as she closed the door. ¡°Director Kingston knows this, which is why we are granted so many concessions. Gunquake has become leverage for your cooperation and stability. If you became a villain yesterday¡­ well, not even we know what you¡¯re fully capable of.¡±


    Roxy nodded slowly. ¡°I wasn¡¯t feeling much like a hero at the time. Not only was I unable to save Dubs from getting injured, but I then murdered the asshole after losing my temper.¡±


    [The wastelands desensitized us. When killing our problems became the norm, it was easy for that to become a quick decision under a moment of high pressure.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t excuse it, shithead.¡± The super gave me a scowl as she pulled over a stool to sit beside the bed on my left. ¡°I fucked up, hard. It¡¯s lucky the League could see the self defense angle and are spinning it into something positive.¡±


    I watched as Clara came over on my right side to inspect my legs for any damage. Perhaps Roxy was right about being hard on herself, but the trouble was¡­ I didn¡¯t really care. I was a little sedated, so my judgement might be off, but if a villain is willing to kill, then it should be fair game for them to meet a justified end. A viewpoint that was no doubt baked in after years of kill contracts and being separate from normal society.


    [Shame. I was ready to go to war against the whole of Goldarch, by your side.]


    ¡°Idiot.¡± Roxy relaxed and smiled. ¡°I know you¡¯re saying that because making me annoyed will distract me from being sad.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t wrong, but I still meant it. Sure, it would be a short-lived rebellion, but a bloody one. We wouldn¡¯t be able to stand up to a group of S-Ranks, even if Roxy had the ability to kill one if given the chance. A thought clicked around in my mind while the super turned her attention to the elephant in the room, but I put a pin in it for now.


    Her eyes went down to my new legs. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ relieved you were able to get replacements. These look a lot better than I was expecting.¡±


    ¡°I twisted Doctor Jarl¡¯s arm until he dug them out. He let me run an inventory check a while ago, so I knew what he had available. I wasn¡¯t about to allow Gunquake to get anything but the best.¡± The techie finished making sure I wasn¡¯t injured before glancing up at the super. ¡°Now that all the cards are on the table, the Doctor has been rather receptive to me ordering him around.¡±


    ¡°You said that he agreed to be the in charge of Dubs¡¯ health?¡±


    Clara pulled a face. ¡°In the eyes of the League, perhaps. Gunquake is still to come to me first. That said, Doctor Jarl is very useful for many reasons.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    [Seeing as he was the one who did my original cybernetics, I¡¯m inclined to agree.]


    ¡°He did what?¡± Roxy looked at me, confused.


    We got her caught up. While she had been given the more important information about my continued existence, Clara hadn¡¯t filled her with all the unnecessary details. Speaking it out loud to a third party, it almost seemed obvious that the most prominent cybernetics expert in the city would have been the one to fix me up all those years ago. It made me wonder about all the random connections over the last month or two that joined us all together. Secrets were made to be unearthed.


    Roxy put her hand on my leg, and I twitched involuntarily. ¡°Oh,¡± she said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°You can feel through them? Already?¡±


    ¡°Something about Gunquake¡¯s physiology makes him almost perfect for cybernetic replacements.¡± Clara leaned against one of the cabinets as she read through her notes. ¡°Doctor Jarl believes it is due to the nanites.¡±


    [They are what make me a super solider, as well as granting me the magical abilities that I possess. Stims and nutrition canisters keep me going, but my regeneration is thanks to the magic-inscribed miniature tech going through my bloodstream.]


    ¡°The tech side of them works with your synapse controlled parts, and the magic side of them grant Gunquake his spells.¡±


    Roxy nodded along, slowly, as we explained. ¡°Shit. So if we take a look at them, we could see the spell runes and know what Dubs is fully capable of?¡±


    I raised an eyebrow toward the techie, not knowing the answer myself.


    She didn¡¯t respond at first, a full answer formulating behind her glowing green eyes for a few moments. ¡°Most cities on the continent have differing tech specialities. Some of them are unique to their provinces, and others are more common, but have varying qualities that aren¡¯t comparable. An example would be cybernetics as a whole. Goldarch has Doctor Jarl, and thus, the most mechanically intricate and functional tech. To the southeast, a city called Lighthaven has the most realistic cybernetics, but they aren¡¯t as technically detailed.¡±


    [Realistic how?]


    ¡°We¡¯ve talked about it before, but the stuff that looked like real skin.¡± Clara gestured to my neck. ¡°The cyberskin you have now is functional, and frankly, a brilliant invention. If you were flayed alive, we could put that all over and you¡¯d still have no trouble regulating temperature or feeling through your nerves.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t put that kind of shit into the universe,¡± Roxy grumbled.


    ¡°Lighthaven¡¯s realistic tech isn¡¯t built as well as what we have, however.¡±


    [You could say it¡¯s built-]


    ¡°Likewise, your nanites aren¡¯t something produced or seen in this area. Neither the Doctor nor I have been able to trace where they are from yet and don''t have the equipment to truly investigate their potential.¡± Clara seemed a little annoyed at that point. ¡°Far to the north, Karlberg has the best cybernetic weaponry.¡± She tapped her notepad. ¡°Or they did have, until I stepped onto the scene.¡±


    She didn¡¯t want to tell me what the arm was going to do, or how the artefact really helped with anything. It wasn¡¯t like her to be so secretive, so I wondered what she had in store. Just having a useable hand was worth the wait. I wiggled my toes in anticipation, drawing the eyes of the two women.


    ¡°How long until he can walk?¡± Roxy asked.


    ¡°That is the golden question. Does the League have any arrangements with the delayed team reveal?¡±


    The super pulled a face. ¡°It was meant to be¡­ tonight? I haven¡¯t slept so I¡¯m not sure what is going on, but they want to do it in two days. Not tomorrow, but the day after.¡±


    Rather optimistic of them. I checked my new STAR windows and brought up the time. Four in the morning. Given that they¡¯d want to throw us out at night time, that was a decent number of hours that I had to try to force my recovery.


    Roxy put a warm hand on my arm. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll have to see how our new leader feels, right?¡±


    [That hasn¡¯t been decided on.]


    ¡°It has, Dubs. You can play it down as much as you want, but if the goofballs aren¡¯t following me, then they¡¯ll follow you no questions asked.¡±


    [Feels disingenuous to reveal me as the new leader of your team, given that the narrative is you were injured saving me.]


    ¡°Eh.¡± She leaned back and shrugged. ¡°Public won¡¯t give a shit. You seen the clips yet? Ah, of course you wouldn''t have. Here, let me send it.¡±


    I waited a second before my STAR gave me a notification. A video message from Roxy, which was rather novel given how basic my old lens system was. In my right eye, a box opened up, showing a full color clip of my time in the graveyard. I watched myself break free of Bonemeal¡¯s ethereal restraint, run up and punch the villain in his face.


    [That was an even more satisfying punch in third person.]


    ¡°That is blowing up on the web right now. The League are actually trying to downplay it, as they don¡¯t want you to be the ¡®cyborg guy who punches criminals in the face¡¯.¡±


    [Apparently I¡¯ll be able to kick really well soon.]


    The glare she shot me actually lit up her eyes like a pilot light. She turned her attention to the techie rather than melting me away. ¡°I¡¯m more worried about¡­ like baths and stuff. These new pins waterproof?¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Clara flipped over a page in her notes. ¡°Oh. All of Gunquake¡¯s cybernetics are reasonably resilient. A bath would pose no issue, and even his shotgun can be submerged for a few hours, to no detriment. As long as they are properly maintained¡­¡± She paused to glance up from her notes. ¡°That does mean I¡¯ll need to get on my knees and oil up your legs regularly, Gunquake.¡±


    Roxy flipped her off, but seemed more at ease with how things were back to normal proceedings. It had been a rough couple of days for all of us, and the sooner we were back on track, the better.


    [I¡¯m tempted to try to run home to get into the bath, then.]


    While my shotgun might be fine getting in the bath with me, I still wanted to keep it dry. My legs were a different matter, but I was sure to get told off for-


    ¡°No, Gunquake.¡± Clara switched from teasing the super to frowning at me. ¡°No running, and no submerging your legs while they heal. You are afforded several miracles and yet you still try to push your luck.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure he behaves.¡± Roxy tightened her grip on my arm to make sure I understood she was serious. ¡°Being a hero without legs isn¡¯t impossible, but with the other things the League wants to do¡­ just fuckin¡¯ heal up, okay?¡±


    A grunt was the only acknowledgement I gave. The lack of action was already making me itchy. Recovery was necessary and perhaps deserved, but I¡¯d much rather be active.


    ¡°How you¡­ even find Red Dust? Last I heard, you were coming home from your League mission¡ªwhich you aced, by the way¡ªand then I got the message from Clara that you were in trouble.¡±


    [I¡­ just had a feeling something was odd with that building. After stopping to pick up something from the shops, I felt compelled to investigate. No doubt assisted by my lack of energy and wits from stim withdrawal. Any clue, Clara?]


    ¡°I¡¯ve been doing some research on magical spells. There are a few based around premonition. Either danger-sense, foresight, or intuition aligned are all options. You¡¯ve always displayed a high level of perception, so who can tell? Perhaps you are just led to things that get you in trouble.¡± She paused and looked off to the side. ¡°I am receiving a call. Please excuse me.¡±


    We watched her leave; the door closing as she went back out further into the¡­ whatever this building was called. Roxy leaned over and put her head on my shoulder, sighing deeply.


    [How are you doing?]


    ¡°Terrible. I need to eat, wash, and sleep. Pretend I didn¡¯t murder a guy in the middle of the city because he cut your legs off.¡± She drummed her fingers on my arm. ¡°I¡¯d like to say that I just want to move past all this, but it¡¯s easy when I¡¯m not the one suffering the permanent consequences of the fuck up.¡±


    [I¡¯m at peace with it. Frustrated that I¡¯m stuck in a bed for a while, but karma has been waiting a while for me to slip up. I¡¯m just lucky that the team showed up to save me, and I have the backing of the League and Clara to put me back together again.]


    ¡°You¡¯re way too calm, Dubs. I¡¯d be seething in your position, but¡­ I guess that¡¯s why we work, right? Nothing gets in your way, not even my temper making me a loose cannon.¡±


    [...I really want to kick a criminal with my new legs.]


    ¡°Asshole.¡± She sat back up and smiled. Before she could say anything further, the door opened back up, and Clara stuck her head inside.


    ¡°Good news. Doctor Jarl is coming down to give you a final checkup, Gunquake. If all things are as expected, we are allowed to take you home for the rest of your recuperation.¡±


    For a man with no mouth, my smile couldn¡¯t be wider.

 119 - Light Legwork

    There was something to be said about being in your own bed. As soon as the pair had gotten me home, I had all but passed out. Ignoring the fact that this had only become my bed recently due to my proximity to Roxy, this was the most comfortable place I had known in the last five years.


    That closeness to her was never more clear than when I opened my eyes and she was wrapped around me, already awake. We had both needed the rest, and she looked better for it. As if the prior days were just a bad dream that had washed away from our subconsciousness - if only we were so lucky.


    She pressed her face up against mine. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±


    [Like I could sleep for weeks. Especially with you here.]


    ¡°I¡¯ve never felt so clingy until we were separated like that. What do you¡­ I mean, we¡¯ve only been together a few weeks, but we¡¯re going steady¡­ right?¡±


    I raised an eyebrow at her, briefly distracted by the fire flickering in the back of her eyes.


    [You act as though I have the first idea about relationships. Did you forget that you found me in a murder shack, wrapped in stinking rags, with only death on my mind?]


    ¡°Yeah, and I fell for that. So that probably says a lot about me more than you.¡± She sighed and gave me a kiss on the re-breather. ¡°You¡¯ve scrubbed up pretty well, though.¡±


    [A little cleaner, perhaps. Slowly getting replaced with more metal parts. Do I need to get some covers for my legs as well?]


    ¡°Hmm, no. I¡¯m actually growing to like the cool feeling of the metal cybernetics. Probably because I¡¯m like a natural furnace these days.¡± Her hand came around the side of my head to run through my hair. ¡°Not sure what I can do for you. Clara just said sleeping is enough... I can¡¯t even make you breakfast or anything.¡±


    [Just being alive is pretty nice. A naked furnace keeping me company is more than I could ask for, but don¡¯t feel you need to be here all day.]


    Roxy wrinkled up her face. ¡°I have the burning desire to work off my emotions in the gym. Clara can check up on you while I¡¯m gone? She has been holding it together well, but she was pretty torn up when she arrived on the scene.¡±


    [Understandable. I am not going anywhere.]


    She granted me one last kiss before leaving. Heat withdrew as she exited the covers and walked over to the drawers to find some underwear. Just like she said, it looked as though she was going for her gym wear.


    [I¡¯m looking forward to seeing your new supersuit.]


    ¡°Yeah?¡± She turned her head back and smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll give you some early spoilers closer to the time¡­ you¡¯ll be surprised. If you¡¯re up for it, there are other gifts for you later as well.¡±


    [I cannot wait.]


    Although, my body decided that I could actually have that patience. While I tried to stay awake to watch the super, my subconsciousness hit the snooze button hard, my brain almost immediately slipping into hibernation mode. My self-imposed healing through meditation seemed to come easier when I was more injured. It was a place of tranquility, warm even though the super wasn¡¯t beside me anymore. Despite being the best rest I could ask for, it was also exhausting. No doubt the arcane crystal dust running through my system was being passively activated as well.


    After an unknown amount of time, I awoke groggily. While the light of day burned at my eyes, I scratched at my leg with the end of my shotgun.


    ¡°Everything okay, Gunquake?¡±


    I turned my frown to the side to see Clara sitting beside me on the bed, leaning against the headboard and reading through some notes. She had paused, chewing through some toast to regard my waking moments.


    [Yeah. Legs were itchy. It feels like they¡¯re wrapped in paper.]


    ¡°Your legs?¡± An eyebrow raised. ¡°Do you mean your thighs?¡±


    [No, I mean down on my¡­ oh¡­]


    ¡°Oh indeed, Gunquake.¡±


    I moved my hand up to pull the covers away, but the techie placed her hand on mine, stopping me.


    ¡°Rockslide warned me that you were in a state of undress, so that might not be a good idea.¡±


    [Oh.]


    ¡°Oh indeed, Gunquake.¡±


    She passed me a nearby towel, which I used to cover my modesty, and helped me draw the covers back. My metal legs were there, in replacement for the ones I had lost. The odd feeling like they were just a light casing for my actual legs persisted.


    Clara moved off the bed and around to take a look at my cybernetics. She prodded them with a finger, and I expected the odd papery feeling to flake off, but it did not.


    ¡°It feels like they are covered with something?¡±


    [Yes. Almost like a bad sunburn and the skin needs to peel off. Not painful or uncomfortable, even. Just a persistent feeling.]


    Her brow furrowed, and she brushed her hair behind her ear. After standing back up straight, her eyes went up to the side as she viewed some information through her own STAR. ¡°Interesting. It¡¯s not just your physical abilities that make adhering to new cybernetics a breeze, but your mental capacity as well. You¡­ believe these are your real legs.¡±


    [Well, they are now, aren¡¯t they?]


    She pulled a face, but shrugged. ¡°The fact that you no longer feel a disconnect after only two days is practically impossible. Another day and you might not have that ¡®shell¡¯ feeling. They will be a natural extension of you.¡±


    My brain wasn¡¯t quite fully awake just yet, but I was starting to see what she was getting at. Rather than risking rejection of the new additions, I had swung completely in the opposite direction. Mentally, there was no blockage. They actually felt real to me. Briefly, I tried to separate myself from that feeling, but could not.


    [Am I able to attempt walking soon?]


    ¡°Usually, I¡¯d say no. However, all the tests we currently have running on you are completely fine and reporting no issues.¡± Clara turned to me and crossed her arms. ¡°Could you try something for me? Both limbs have a similar V-Force drive to your shotgun. Do you have any connection with them yet?¡±


    Activating my gun-arm was just a simple thought, same as flexing a muscle. A simple signal going along my upgraded synapses to whatever magic-tech hybrid bullshit was apparently running through my whole system.


    My legs hummed with a similar thought. Not as easy or straightforward, but the bed vibrated gently from the growing power.


    ¡°Alright, stop.¡± She held up a hand to further prompt me. ¡°Even if you can control them already, Rockslide will crack our heads together like eggs if you activate them indoors.¡±


    [They¡¯re that powerful?]


    ¡°The force they exert when dissipating fall damage is substantial, yes. Similar to Rockslide landing, you may destroy things caught in the crossfire.¡±


    [I will crack the earth, adding to the ¡®quake¡¯ theme. Very nice. The physics involved makes me feel like I¡¯d damage my spine or something, though.]


    Clara waved me off and turned to leave the room. ¡°Don¡¯t think about it, just chalk it up to magic or something. I¡¯m going to retrieve Rockslide to dress you, and then we can convince her to allow us to start physiotherapy.¡±


    [Could I request a fresh canister, please?]


    ¡°Of course.¡± She gave me a brief smile as she left.


    I looked back up at the ceiling and sighed. My legs felt itchy, as if I had to scratch off the coating on them¡ªeven though there was nothing on them. Like I was wearing skin-tight socks. I wiggled my toes as I cleared my mind.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    There was still so much going on that this was all an unwanted distraction from.


    Did the League get any information from the building where Red Dust was hiding? I was sure there were details about either the Dark Council or the League of Villains there. Plus, what did Director Kingston find out about the World Government in that suitcase we handed over? Running heroic errands felt like busywork when bigger things were in play.


    I allowed my legs to hum into power again. Only a slight nudge, just to feel that they were there. That it was possible. The energy sunk away, and I brought it back, estimating I was only going around fifteen to twenty percent of the actual activation amount required.


    At the sound of footsteps, I let those thoughts sink away. I wasn¡¯t about to get in trouble when I was close to moving. Team reveal was meant to be tomorrow now, and I didn¡¯t want Roxy to have to carry me throughout.


    The super stepped into the room, absolutely drenched in sweat. Her dark gym clothing had red dust all over them. It wasn¡¯t an unflattering look, and she clearly caught the gaze given to her.


    ¡°Been at it a few hours,¡± she explained, revealing a fresh canister in her hand. ¡°Turns out the basement gym isn¡¯t as heat resistant as I now require. Switched to throwing around crap in the wasteland. Not the best workout, but helped temper my anger.¡±


    [Is it too soon to have cabin fever?]


    Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°Alright, you medical miracle. Clara has already been pushing the fact that you are ready to take your first steps.¡± She gestured to the towel I still held across my waist. ¡°Let¡¯s get you in some shorts and I¡¯ll carry you out. First sign that you¡¯re not ready for it and I¡¯m putting your ass back up here.¡±


    [Harsh, but fair.]


    From the drawers she pulled out some compression shorts and stepped over, narrowing her eyes as she withdrew the towel from me. ¡°Clara said that the fever and delirium you¡¯ve been experiencing when standing aren¡¯t from the physical healing or an infection. The whole process has rocked you mentally, and it¡¯s like¡­¡± She paused halfway through pulling the shorts up my legs, as she tried to remember the metaphor the techie had used. ¡°Your brain is like a city of intersections with traffic stops. While you recover, it¡¯s like they stop functioning properly, and sections will be the wrong color or switch off entirely.¡±


    [So until I fully recover, I will have occasional bouts of manic¡­ unhinged behavior?]


    ¡°Sounds a lot more dangerous when you put it that way.¡±


    When it came down to it, the tradeoff between either taking a long time physically recovering or taking that toll mentally¡­ I probably preferred it this way. If the League could give me some team or duo missions at the start, then I¡¯d have a babysitter to make sure I didn¡¯t go off the deep end or pass out. A little insanity seemed like just a more overt expression of how I really lived.


    I was a walking Natural Disaster, after all.


    Well, not quite walking yet. With the minimum amount of clothing necessary to leave the bedroom and canister replaced, Roxy hoisted me up into her arms.


    ¡°Hopefully these repeated princess carries aren¡¯t emasculating you.¡± She took us across the landing toward the staircase.


    [I think my ego died a long time ago. Over the years I¡¯ve seen enough death and-]


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I get it.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°We¡¯re all weird and fucked up. It¡¯s almost a shame we didn¡¯t turn villains back there.¡±


    [That wouldn¡¯t last too long.]


    ¡°Clara has a few thoughts on it. She thinks it would be easier to equip you if we could do some illegal activities¡­ more illegal than we already do.¡± She paused at the bottom of the stairs to push the front door open with her foot. ¡°You¡¯re getting low on that foam shit or something, and it¡¯s difficult to get unless we literally hijack a truck. Sounds fun, but I reckon we¡¯re on thin ice for a while.¡±


    I was distracted from thoughts of how dangerous her thinking was as the sunlight briefly blinded me. Mid afternoon, by the position of the sun. Fresh air. The green of the grass, light gray of our prefab buildings, and amber of the wasteland were all refreshing somehow. My eyes fell over to the techie already sitting on one of the deckchairs, hopefully not currently planning any heists.


    She had a small case with some familiar circular pads in, and her laptop to the side. It looked as though she¡¯d be properly testing how I fared with the whole stepping forward thing.


    ¡°Put the patient down here first,¡± came her instruction.


    I was placed in a sitting position on the deckchair beside the techie. Held my arms out while she stuck the pads around my bare torso, a couple on my thighs. I noted that they were no longer discolored or swollen, but reasonably normal. There was also a slight breeze that I could feel on my cybernetic parts.


    ¡°Alright.¡± She turned to her laptop. ¡°If you could stand the patient, Rockslide, and let him settle.¡±


    [I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s necessary to refer to me as ¡®the patient¡¯.]


    ¡°If you are unhappy with the situation, you may find different medical help, Gunquake. Note that we are ahead of traditional schedules by several weeks in doing this.¡±


    I took a glance between my symbiotic techie, eager to commit war-crimes, who could exploded my chest with the click of a button before putting me back together stronger again, to the overpowered love of my life who could split me like dry spaghetti at any time she was too lazy to burn me to cinders. Both of them taking up space in my heart and comfortable existence, yet also accomplices in the danger we bounced between day to day.


    [Fine. Depending on how this goes, I may reconsider, though.]


    Roxy gave me a disapproving glare as she lifted me up, clearly able to see through my sarcasm. Metal feet on the soft grass, with the dry dirt of my old plot ahead of me, I was allowed to settle on my own weight. The super kept a hand on my back for stability and she glanced at the techie to make sure she was doing it right.


    Data ran through Clara¡¯s laptop, but I didn¡¯t have the angle to pry over what it was saying. Physically, I felt some pressure around my knees after having been horizontal for far too long. It slowly faded as I got used to it.


    ¡°How are you doing, Gunquake? Do you think you could take two steps for me?¡±


    I gave my answer in the form of said action. One step, and then a second. Successful.


    [Feels a little awkward and stiff.]


    ¡°Getting used to the movement is part of the recuperation process. I have my data here, but I want to hear from you if there¡¯s any pain.¡±


    I took another two steps, my brow furrowing. Roxy hovered just outside my reach like a helicopter parent, ready to catch me if I fell. Now I was no longer on the lawn, but on the dusty rock. It felt warmer and rougher beneath my metal feet. I couldn¡¯t stop frowning down at them, trying to make sense of it.


    ¡°Gunquake?¡±


    Blinking away my confusion, I turned my head back to look at the techie. Nine shadows flickered and faded from my eyesight, the blurry figures temporarily taking up space behind her in the garden.


    [Minor discomfort. No balance issues or pain. Being able to feel the breeze and warmth of the ground is novel and briefly unsettling.]


    She maintained eye contact. ¡°As much information as I can gain here, I cannot accurately determine if you are suffering from hallucinations or mental anguish.¡±


    ¡°Are your traffic stop lights working correctly?¡± Roxy added, attempting to be helpful. A glance at her and her face briefly appeared skull-like before returning to her current worried expression.


    [Minor visual anomalies, but I feel lucid.]


    Clara nodded, but it didn¡¯t seem to do much to calm the super. There was no point lying about it, and part of me assumed that the techie might actually be able to tell. Perhaps a me from a few months ago would have withheld the truth to soldier on, but back then I didn¡¯t have anyone that was trying so hard to keep me alive.


    ¡°Will it get worse?¡± Roxy asked, turning her head away from me briefly.


    ¡°Unknown. It is equally possible that it could fade, maintain, or get worse. Physically he is¡­ Gunquake?¡±


    I hadn¡¯t stopped to listen to the verdict. Instead, three more steps away from the pair, I paused and stood on one leg. Gradually, I lifted my right foot up. Balance was slightly wobbly, before stabilizing. I watched my foot as I angled it toward me a little, only about ten inches from the ground.


    Then I started to power up the V-Drive in that leg.


    ¡°Independant activation is great progress,¡± Clara said from behind me, tapping away on her keyboard. ¡°Currently around twenty percent powered. I¡¯d recommend stopping as close to fifty as you can as we will¡­¡±


    I ramped it up to full power, using the similar feeling of doing the same in my shotgun. It was different, like trying to fit a shape in the right hole. An intangible puzzle that I was apparently an expert at. I watched the result in slow motion, my brain processing each step for memorizing later.


    The first thing was the feeling of the gathered energy in the drive leaving. In my gun-arm, uses seemed to chip away at the power, but this expelled it all at once. My extended foot expanded, parts on the sides, back, and just before my toes unclipping and widening on short pin-like rods. A pulse of energy burst out from this flattened sole via a handful of ports, scouring the rock clean as a wave of dust and loose dirt blew away from me.


    My foot clipped itself back into the sleeker profile, and I placed it down on the ground softly. V-Force drive was clearly empty, much weaker than my unused left leg.


    [There¡¯s a refractory period.]


    Roxy murmured something I didn¡¯t quite catch, but I turned to look at the techie for confirmation. Thankfully, there were no further hallucinations, although I did feel a little lightheaded.


    ¡°Correct, Gunquake. You seem to have a natural grasp of it, but these drives expel a binary amount of power, unlike your weapon.¡± She glanced at her laptop before scowling at the super. ¡°Quit mumbling to yourself, sister, and catch Gunquake before he passes out.¡±


    [I¡¯m not about to-]


    I wavered and leaned backward, toppling into the waiting arms of Roxy as she moved to me instantly.


    [Keep me standing.]


    My vision blurred and darkened, spots forming like television static. Hearing muted, I could still hear the super asking Clara for confirmation on my request. Acknowledgement was given. My re-breather rattled as my breathing slowed and heaved. My toes dug into the dry ground, and I fought the desire to have a quick nap.


    Gradually, my vision and hearing returned. Surrounding world cleared and my breathing normalized. Some shadows remained, darkened shapes in tactical gear darting in and out of existence, but I focused on Clara. The techie was tapping away at her laptop, brow furrowed as she glanced between me and the screen.


    [Keep me standing.]


    I repeated the phrase and closed my eyes, now sure I would stay conscious. Left leg brimmed with energy as I sunk my thoughts into setting it off. It activated while flat on the ground, bursting dust away from me. The shockwave vibrated up my legs; the force felt up my whole body. Opening my eyes, I saw the clear and cracked rock beneath the metal appendage.


    ¡°Speak to me, Gunquake.¡±


    My eyes switched from the damaged terrain to the techie.


    [I feel like I have shed the uncomfortable skin around my limbs.]


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Roxy asked from right behind me. ¡°You had to wear them in to feel comfortable?¡±


    [Something like that.]


    It was true. As much as it had been difficult and tiring for my brain to do it, my new legs felt even more like a natural part of me now. I¡¯m sure there would be some teething pains to come, especially with the hallucinations, but recovering from losing my legs in three days was indeed a miracle. For all the unknown powers coming back to me, this was truly proof that I was-


    ¡°As much as I am a fan of limit testing, you have already far exceeded what we intended to accomplish today.¡± Clara tilted her head. ¡°What do you think, Gunquake?¡±


    Thoughts heading straight past green stoplights, I turned my head to the side, looking over to where our training dummies stood.


    [There is one last thing I want to do.]

 120 - Kicking It

    I glared at my opponent. The training dummy hadn¡¯t done anything to slight me, but my wavering sanity was keen to imagine a shit-eating grin across their otherwise blank face.


    ¡°When ready, Gunquake,¡± Clara said from over to my right somewhere. She hadn¡¯t been too impressed with my suggestion of giving my kicking ability a little test. Even with how quickly I had been healing, I was meant to be resting pretty hard for another day, at least.


    Roxy wasn¡¯t annoyed, but worried and standing a few feet behind me to catch me if I fucked this up. Chances were fifty-fifty, and I had already begun feeling warm across my forehead. A little fever that I could nap away once this asshole dummy quit mocking me with his dumb grin. Motherfucker.


    I acted with little ceremony, lashing out to catch him off guard. V-Force hummed through my leg as I planted it almost flat against the target. As soon as it struck their wide chest, I activated the pulse of energy. The heavy dummy slid across the dirt by a couple of feet while I tried to find my own.


    Like some cliche romance novel, I stumbled into the waiting arms of the super. She raised her eyebrows and nodded, glancing at the wobbling dummy.


    ¡°Not bad. That¡¯s a lot of force to move them from their position.¡±


    The slight breeze took the cloud of dry dust from the attack back across us, and I righted myself to my feet once more. Was I content enough? A brief look and the smile had been wiped from my aggressor, the other three dummies standing close by looking like they were trying not to get my attention.


    ¡°I¡¯d advise not doing that to soft targets,¡± Clara said. ¡°That amount of force is likely to break bones or split organs against anyone without powers or serious armor.¡±


    My sloppy thought process had me imagining literally kicking the head off of a criminal. I almost wanted to crush my enemies like bugs. Starting with this rogue hero the Gov had on their list. My eyes ran up the super as she righted me.


    [You¡¯re resilient. Could I test it on you?]


    Roxy pulled a face at first and looked over at the techie for advice. A nod was given. ¡°Fine, I¡¯m heading to the shower after this, anyway.¡± She gave me a shrug and took a few steps backward. ¡°Just try not to hurt yourself.¡±


    I watched as she braced herself in position and crossed her arms in front of her chest, ready for me to plant my attack. While part of me was keen to note her head was exposed, I didn¡¯t have any ammunition to hand to finally end this. I blinked several times and adjusted my position.


    Leading with my left was uncomfortable, but the right leg was still recharging. I didn¡¯t have the patience to wait for it.


    But I did have a secret.


    A red-hot nugget of unadulterated truth. It had struck my flammable mind as soon as I had activated the force for the first time. Everything clicked in place, the seams invisible¡ªso this could only be fact. The nanites gave me magic and worked with my synapse tech. All the abilities I used for my shotgun should work with my legs, to some degree.


    The super furrowed her brow slightly as I tensed, ready to strike.


    I activated Overcharge down my left leg.


    V-Force drive literally screamed as static electricity arced around the limb. I swung in an instant, part of the energy releasing like a rocket boost to the attack. The pressure was immense until it wasn¡¯t.


    The shockwave briefly deafened me as the blast connected with the super. A plume of dirt obscured her as I stumbled back away, barely able to remain upright. As my head swam, nausea powered up through my core and I hunched over.


    Clara was beside me already, attempting to hold me up as best as she could. She was saying something about how stupid I was, but although I could hear, I couldn¡¯t process the exact words. Instead, I looked up at the fading cloud of amber dust to see Roxy.


    Undamaged, which I had conflicting feelings over. Still in her braced position, but now a good fifteen feet away, two lines of dirt dug up from where she had slid backward. Blinking away her brief shock, she righted herself and whistled.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ hells, Dubs.¡±


    The techie tugged at my arm to get my focus on what she was saying. ¡°Some light walking was our original intention, Gunquake.¡±


    [Limit testing.]


    While the pair continued to chastise me and praise me in alternating patterns, my focus was nowhere nearby. I nodded along absentmindedly as they agreed it was time for a nap. My eyes were up toward the sky, watching the dragon-sized vultures circling above. They shifted and twisted as if melting while they circled our protected treasure trove of not-yet-decaying meat and noisy squabbling.


    Yeah, it was time for a nap.


    A thought that immediately proceeded a terrible dream. No hint that I had moved from the outside to bed. Dark shadows haunted me through a backdrop illuminated in bright blood-red. Warm beams of fizzling pain severed my living limbs before they were reattached, only for it to happen again and again.


    My eyes snapped open, a throbbing pain in my skull fading as I took in the world around me. Still in bed, with as many limbs as I started the day with. It must be evening now, judging by the dim light coming in from the windows and painting the ceiling. The flip of a page had my head turning to the right.


    Clara was there, sitting in a chair this time. Notepad in hand, her green eyes brightening the pages, while her laptop sat on the bedside table running diagnostics on me.


    [I may have overdone it.]


    She raised an eyebrow and looked over at me. ¡°Yes.¡±


    A surprisingly curt response from the techie that had me briefly worried that I was still in some kind of dream state. I moved my toes, which caused a sharp pain to dart around my body. The stim pack in my neck activated, providing some relief.


    ¡°No permanent damage, but you went a little too far, Gunquake.¡± Clara sighed and turned another page. ¡°Always so reckless, despite everything. Yet¡­ surprising. I spoke with Doctor Jarl while you were resting, and even he didn¡¯t know that the V-Force drive could be overloaded in such a manner.¡±


    [Something to do with those connectors in my neck that link my nanites to my synapse tech, I believe. There¡¯s an innate familiarity I have to using V-Force.]


    ¡°Outside of my current expertise,¡± she said, some disappointment in her voice. ¡°However, that seems important for me to learn now. Did you know there are only three kinds of regeneration that can restore missing limbs? Demonic and Troll are the first two, and the third is redacted from records. Either a superpower or high-level tech, no doubt.¡±


    [I¡¯m surprised you do so much research via paper form, rather than through your STAR.]


    ¡°Oh, I do.¡± Clara tilted her head to regard me. ¡°My left eye has a feed from the web to dig deeper into certain keywords or subjects while my right is reading the book. It¡¯s just a shame my brain can only absorb so much information and I can¡¯t eject all the useless titbits I pick up.¡±


    While I was certain there was no doubt some manner of brain cybernetics that could help with that, I didn¡¯t want to say anything out loud in case it was inviting fate to do something terrible to the techie - like me with my legs. The rate at which she absorbed and sought information was impressive enough as it was.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    [You looked up if my legs would be able to grow back?]


    Her eyes moved away, back to her book. ¡°I sought every avenue before committing to your surgery. You were under my care and I wanted the best for you, Gunquake.¡±


    [I am thankful, you certainly did me a huge favor with pressuring the doc into giving me these. What Grade did you say they were?]


    ¡°A-Grade.¡±


    I felt like nodding, but my memories were feeling a little hazy at present. The way tech worked on that scale was similar to hero ranking, but not quite.


    [Could you briefly explain the grading for me?]


    ¡°Of course, Gunquake.¡± She shut her book and turned on the chair to face me. ¡°Technology¡ªcybernetics in this instance¡ªis judged based on functionality. Something that is C-Grade would be classed as fully equal to the limb or body part that it replaced. B-Grade is better than and D-Grade is less than. Pretty straightforward, correct?¡±


    [So the A-Grade rating makes sense with what these are capable of. How far does the scale go either way? Are there S-Grade cybernetics?]


    ¡°Down to E-Grade - which are barely a functional replacement. If you were left solely in my care, the best I would be able to do with the parts I have to hand would be¡­ D-Grade, unfortunately. We are lucky to have Doctor Jarl in our corner.¡± The techie drummed her fingers on the closed notepad, glancing briefly at the laptop screen. ¡°Yes, there are S-Grade cybernetics¡­ but they are few and far between. We are talking pinnacle of technology in the world. I¡¯m not sure anyone in Goldarch has anything S Grade¡­ yet.¡±


    [Until you complete my arm?]


    ¡°I¡¯m going to get Rockslide,¡± she replied without answering, shooting me the slightest wry grin. ¡°You should be able to walk short distances once you are fully awake, and you have a gift from us both downstairs.¡±


    The brief image of the pair of them dressed up in nothing but ribbons and bows flashed across my mind before I regained control. I didn¡¯t even have enough time to press her about not giving me a better clue about my arm. She was gone out the door already.


    Clara was right about one thing, however. Doctor Jarl was an unexpected but important boon to our progress. I not only had the devoted and inventive Clara at my back, but the best cybernetics expert on the continent willing to help me out. I had no doubt that his knowledge and guidance would shorten the time it would take for me to get my new arm.


    Then I could kill them all.


    A shadow passed through the door and I tensed up, before seeing the familiar burning eyes of Roxy. The super was wearing a black dress and a nervous smile.


    ¡°How are you doing, babe?¡±


    [A little delirious, with minor pain. You look amazing.]


    ¡°Thanks.¡± She gave me a brief twirl. ¡°I feel awkward as shit, but fuck it. It¡¯s a special occasion, so once you¡¯re ready, I¡¯ll help you get dressed.¡±


    Part of me worried that I had forgotten I was about to attend a funeral, or that the League wanted us to do something that involved looking normal and not like I wanted to put deep footprints in everyone within kicking distance.


    Instead of complaining, I just nodded and went along for the ride. I found getting out of bed was rather uncomplicated, and other than some residual aches in my muscles across most of my torso, I was relatively unscathed. I stood and was stable, just a little out of it still. Without saying a word, I allowed Roxy to help me put on some black slacks before a white shirt.


    [I don¡¯t remember having this.]


    ¡°It¡¯s new,¡± she confirmed. ¡°There¡¯s a good tailor in the city that works mostly with heroes, so they¡¯re used to unconventional body shapes.¡±


    That was one way to put it. As much as my life was normalizing, I was growing more abstract by the day. Before I was a simple tool who killed and slept. Now I could cast magic spells and hold a conversation with an extended friend group. I was employed. There was a crate full of grenades with my name on it not that far away from here.


    While the super buttoned up the front of the shirt, I finally noticed that she had earrings in. Simple studs with a reflective black stone inset. Obsidian, perhaps? It looked like it was volcanic, which was cute. She then folded up the right sleeve to button just above my elbow. It was wider than the left sleeve, allowing it to function over my gun-arm perfectly.


    [Do I need to be worried about what¡¯s happening?]


    Roxy glanced back into my eyes, some brief concern on her face, before she gave me a relaxed smile. ¡°No, Dubs. It¡¯s nothing terrible and we aren¡¯t going anywhere. We are just celebrating.¡±


    I nodded. There was no denying I had plenty of things to be thankful for. Surviving an encounter with an unhinged S-Rank villain was enough to be happy about. Was I happy? That thought stuck in my mind as the super pulled me in for a hug, her arms around my shoulders as she put her cheek against mine.


    ¡°I love you, Dubs.¡±


    Yeah. I guess I was rather happy at this stage in my life. Something filled with death and trauma, but now had the occasional pocket of bliss. Where my soul could rest and exist. I put my arms around her.


    [I love you too.]


    We parted, and I had a glance at the vanity tables mirror. One of them had clearly washed me during the time I was out cold. Still a badass cyborg, but there was a person inside. Hero in the making, even as I was chopped and rebuilt into whatever kept me moving.


    The super¡¯s arm looped around mine, and she led me out of the bedroom. Clara appeared from her bedroom at the same time, the techie wearing a dress of her own and looking almost as awkward as Roxy had. Perhaps I would also feel uncomfortable with my current outfit if I had all of my senses with me.


    [If this is a shotgun wedding, I wasn¡¯t conscious when I said ¡®I do¡¯.]


    ¡°Shut it, asshole.¡± The super nudged me and exhaled. ¡°If you¡¯re going to be loopy, I¡¯ll disconnect your vocalizer.¡±


    I made the mental note that she looked a little flustered, but I would probably forget that. The edges of everything were blurry, like I was already a few drinks deep. I was certain it wasn¡¯t a dream, but reality had that floatiness to it. Wasn¡¯t terrible, however.


    We went down the stairs, toward the front door. Clara opened it up first to allow the two of us to exit together.


    Lights bloomed, and noise filled my ears. My body tensed for whatever unknown was assaulting my senses, all three V-Force drives humming up slightly in preparation for¡­


    I relaxed. Balloons hung in the air, tied to the garden furniture. A banner went between two of the taller lights, ¡®Congratulations¡¯ written across it in colorful letters. Amongst candles and bottles on the main table were the Natural Disasters.


    The three of them cheered once they saw the surprise hadn¡¯t kicked me into flight or fight mode. Roy was in a full three-piece suit, hair and beard trimmed neatly. Belle wore a layered dress of pink and purple, a bottle of rum in her hand already. Ren was in a light blue pantsuit, her bright blonde hair tied up in a bun.


    [What is all this in aid of?]


    ¡°You completed your first League mission, Dubs,¡± Roxy said in my ear. ¡°It¡¯s a tradition that you have a celebration for it.¡±


    Seemed reasonable to me. No doubt they had to delay it due to my injury, and they were all eager to see me. Radiant. I had to admit I was happy to see them, too. Despite not being the closest to me as I left the house, Belle was the first to meet me. She came in for a hug, without hesitation.


    ¡°So glad to see you, Dubs,¡± she said. ¡°I felt so guilty I couldn¡¯t heal you more and I¡­¡±


    [If it wasn¡¯t for you¡­ for all of you, I would have died. You all have my thanks, but today is for celebrating, so let¡¯s not dwell on the past.]


    The shielder gave me a smile as she stepped back away. ¡°Ever the diplomat. As you wish, but we¡¯re happy to have you with us again.¡±


    ¡°How are you even standing?¡± the Captain asked, stepping over. ¡°Who¡¯s ass did you kiss for that miracle to work?¡±


    [It¡¯s not what you know, but who you know. Clara contacted an old friend of mine who owed me a favor.]


    I leaned forward and pulled the bottom of my slacks up to reveal more of my legs. The trio all ooh¡¯d and ahh¡¯d, lowering themselves to inspect my new cybernetics. It was at this point I realized that I was essentially bare footed, and boots might be an issue unless I wanted to explode them every time I jumped.


    [I¡¯d give you more of a demonstration of what they can do, but I¡¯m under strict instruction not to look gift horses in their mouths.]


    ¡°They can do shit?¡± Roy shook his head. ¡°Is it not enough that you can walk again?¡±


    I seized the opportunity.


    [Not at all, for I am built different.]


    The phrase was rushed, my aching mind pushing it through my vocalizer as quickly as possible before I got interrupted. No reaction from the crowd.


    ¡°Speaking of being lucky to walk¡­¡± Roxy prodded me in the lower back. ¡°How about you go and sit down before your brain starts leaking out?¡±


    That was probably for the best. We went and did so, arranging ourselves around the garden table while Clara went off to get something. I explained everything to them, from the start of my mission against Bonemeal and up to earlier in this day. They had all seen the clips, of course. I received plenty of compliments on how I handled punching the villain in the face, and a few grimaces in how I stumbled blindly into what was perhaps one of the most dangerous places in the city.


    They shook their heads when I told them about my V-Force legs and nodded when I explained how I was taking the toll of the injury mentally rather than physically. As much as they expressed their concern over my potential to work so soon, I assured them it would be fine. The League had given me nothing but radio silence since I had returned home, but I assumed Clara was giving them updates on my condition.


    The techie returned after a short while after we started our second round of drinks. In her arms, a wrapped box. The first of several gifts, she informed me. It was placed in front of me on the table.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know your birthday, Dubs. Right?¡± Roxy put a hand on my thigh and leaned in closer. ¡°Want to make it today?¡±


    [I don¡¯t know what day today is either.]


    A round of laughs for a truthful statement delivered well, apparently. I had never had a reason to celebrate a birthday before. Clara had even wrapped the box in a way that was easy for me to open with a single hand. With the Natural Disasters watching me eagerly, I looked around at those gathered here. Each of them brimming with energy and care for me.


    I gripped at the shiny wrapping paper, already knowing I had the greatest gift I could ask for.

 121 - Happy Birthday Hero

    Under the soft light of the garden floodlights, with those closest to me in good spirits and eagerly watching me, I opened the gift in front of me.


    Paper discarded, a metal container was revealed. Not unlike many that we had in our storage room. I raised an eyebrow at the techie, who maintained a rather neutral expression on her face.


    I made easy work of the two clasps on either side of the lid before gingerly lifting it up. Light filling the interior, I leaned forward to see five magazines stacked in there. Ammunition for my bloodlust. The shells on the top of two of them were familiar, but my eyes were drawn to the other two on the left side.


    ¡°We had a few shipments in while you were out,¡± Clara explained. ¡°Twenty Quake shots, ten that are a new development I am calling Sunder shots¡­ and then we have twenty Sanguine stakes fresh from the hobgoblin forge.¡±


    I sat staring at them for a few moments, and probably would have salivated over them if I had the ability to. Something twisted inside me, and I winced.


    [Thank you so much, Clara. I will never go anywhere without them, seeing how much of a trouble magnet I am.]


    While the others murmured their agreements and gave some brief cheers over my gift, the techie leaned forward so that we could hug. I gave her a pat on the back and attempted to whisper in her ear.


    [Please take these and hide them, otherwise I will be a danger to all here.]


    She parted and gave me a brief nod, her eyes able to read my expression. I was holding things together the best I could. Having the hero-killing ammunition right¡­ there, within arm¡¯s reach, was¡­


    My fist clenched beneath the table as the techie picked the box up and took it away, drawing away the haze that had me seeing my friends as enemies. Old habits died hard, but the stakes would make that an easier process. I snapped back to my normal self as Roxy leaned into me.


    ¡°I have a gift for you too, but it¡¯ll have to wait until later when everyone is gone.¡± She paused and looked around the table. ¡°That made it sound like a sex thing, but it¡¯s not.¡±


    More jeers and laughter, and the turmoil within me settled. While the mental anguish had felt better than being bed-bound for weeks, I needed to be careful.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost a good thing our reveal was delayed,¡± Ren said, tilting her bottle towards the pair of us once Roxy had finished browbeating them. ¡°Seeing as the main present from all of us arrived this morning.¡±


    [I wasn¡¯t expecting to get so spoiled.]


    ¡°A hero reveal is a big thing in our world,¡± Belle said. ¡°You¡¯re part of the club, officially. There is one thing we need to do, however¡­¡±


    Ren narrowed her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t shit stir. You know we have all decided already.¡±


    ¡°Ah, it makes it more of a bonding thing if we do it in person, though.¡± The shielder grinned and looked at Roxy. ¡°Assuming someone isn¡¯t sensitive about the subject?¡±


    ¡°Fuck no.¡± The super sighed and shook her head, moving away from me to stand up to her feet. She cleared her throat and gave the gathered group a dull glare. ¡°As required by the League, I am to step down from the leadership position for the nearly minted Natural Disasters. I nominate Dubs to be my replacement. Show of hands who agree.¡±


    They all raised their hands. Unanimous.


    [Really? I thought one of you with more experience might be a better fit. Roy, for example, with your military background?]


    The Captain shook his head animatedly. ¡°No chance, Dubs.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, good luck leading this herd of assholes,¡± Roxy added. ¡°You might be green when it comes to being a hero, Dubs, but you¡¯ve already turned us from messy dumbasses into a team capable of climbing the rankings.¡±


    Belle nodded. ¡°Just think about what we can do with more practical experience. Our team mission tomorrow, for example. There¡¯s a difference between heroes that work together, and ones that are a cohesive team.¡±


    [Which you all proved when you turned up to save my life.]


    It was give and take. My statement devolved the conversation into squabbling over what I had done for all of them. Saving Belle from the spider villain. Getting Roy back on the straight and narrow. A lot of heroes were assholes, even to those they were teamed with. I wondered if it was my passive pacification aura that had eventually muted their egos down to being a functional team, or we were just different from others.


    ¡°Let¡¯s¡­ put a pin in that,¡± Roxy eventually cut them off, attempting to be the diplomat. ¡°Dubs is officially our new leader via unanimous vote. Gods save him. Before you all start arguing about some other bullshit, it¡¯s time for the main course.¡±


    Rather than suddenly spring a hoard of food upon us, she instead gestured over to the side where Clara had been standing in wait. The techie held up a small controller and flicked a switch. Larger floodlights over by the warehouse illuminated the ground in bright white light, revealing a large boxy shape covered in a dark tarp.


    Due to the lighting difference, I hadn¡¯t even spotted it out there before. My focus had been on the table full of glowing faces. The darkness always held surprises, and this one was probably nothing bad. Roxy held her hand out and helped me up to my feet.


    It was large, about the same size as my old murder shack¡ªjust a little longer. Maybe I was being kicked out, the social experiment was over. Everything would vanish by the morning and I¡¯d wake alone with nothing to do but kill time once more. A knot built up in my stomach. What were they planning to do with me? I only had one purpose.


    The super squeezed my hand, some stress falling away like she had wrung a sponge. Walking the distance was no issue, and I felt no pain during the brief journey. The anxiety was uncomfortable, and even knowing I was being ridiculous, it didn¡¯t change how worried I was about whatever was under that tarp.


    I wished Clara had left me one mag out, just in case.


    ¡°It will be okay,¡± Roxy murmured to me, so that only I could hear. ¡°I¡¯m here.¡±


    That calmed me and stopped me looking around for all the eyes out in the darkness that only appeared in my peripheral. They were there; I was sure¡­ but Roxy would punch them if they threatened me.


    Clara appeared beside me, something new in her hands. It wasn¡¯t a magazine as I had wished for, but a fresh canister. I wasn¡¯t particularly hungry or dry, but could read between the lines. The ones she sent through my STAR.


    //Clara: Medicated. Will provide relief from your delusions.


    //Clara: However, you will probably tire within the hour.


    I crouched down slightly so that she could eject the old canister from my neck and insert the new.


    [Your dress is nice.]


    ¡°Thank you, Gunquake. I chose it especially.¡± She closed the last clasp and gave me a soft smile. ¡°However, I would much rather be in my overalls and working, but perhaps that is the true reason I just gave you a sedative.¡±


    Suited me, either way. It was good to see everyone one last time before we got into our new outfits and stepped out on stage. I shivered a little as the nutritional canister gave me a burst of the laced liquid. One last party before I became a working man and had to do boring League work. The sooner I got my hand, the sooner I¡­ well, I wasn¡¯t sure what.


    More villain-face punching, if the public had any say.


    Roy grinned as he lifted up a rope to hand to me, something for me to pull on to remove the cover from the surprise underneath. ¡°Clara did most of the heavy lifting when it came to getting this, but we all chipped in a little.¡±


    It looked around fifteen feet wide, twelve tall, and twenty-odd long. If it was just a shipping container filled with grenades, then I might dump the super for Clara instead. Or all of them, since they contributed. I blinked away those odd thoughts, slightly easier than before, and gave the rope a pull.


    The tarp slid from the gift, increasing in speed as the weight of itself dragged it to the ground.


    What lay beneath was¡­ beautiful.


    I stood there, briefly star-struck at what I could only describe as a tank. It had no turret or cannon, but had the same profile. Large, thick tracks ran on either side. Deep green, like my trenchcoat, with two large bright green headlamps.


    ¡°This is about as heavy-duty as you can get without excessive permits from the World Gov,¡± the Captain said, pride and joy filling his face as he gazed at it. ¡°Reinforced plate shell, nigh bulletproof and explosive resistant. Dual self-repairing tracks that will make going through the wasteland a breeze. Enough cabin space for the five of us, plus equipment.¡±


    ¡°Air conditioned,¡± Ren murmured.


    ¡°Signal repeater to allow me drone access from a greater distance.¡± Clara paused. ¡°Although I have not received my drone yet. Remote piloting. Fitted with smoke deployment, minor cloaking, and a temporary haptic shield.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Roxy waved them away. ¡°Dubs doesn¡¯t need to read the fine-print right now. It¡¯s a fuckoff armored personnel carrier dolled up to the nines in his theme. Good thing he was made leader, so at least it makes sense for him to be carting our asses around.¡±


    [Can we go¡­ use it now?]This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Clara looked up at me, and our eyes met. While most of the others heard me ask if I could have a little joyride around the lot, the techie heard something different. To her ears¡ªones that knew me very well¡ªI had just asked if we could find some monsters or mutants to go run over. Or perhaps I was projecting more than what was actually going on. The conclusion was the same either way.


    ¡°Not while you¡¯re not in a good mental state, Gunquake. It will still be here tomorrow.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t even argue with that. It would be a terrible idea to get it all bloody before our reveal tomorrow, anyway.


    [Are you able to fit it with V-Force drives?]


    She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, any concern now replaced with deep thought. ¡°There are several answers to that question, and none of them are a straight ¡®no¡¯. Not at this stage, at least.¡±


    I nodded and returned to being star-struck by the behemoth of a team vehicle. My quake-cycle, which had been recovered at some point and was sitting off to the side, now looked miniature in comparison.


    [Thank you all. Best birthday I¡¯ve ever had.]


    I tuned out most of the responses I got to that. The mood was still high and people were jubilant. I received brief hugs and pats on the back as most of them started to return to the table. Actual food and more drinks promised. I couldn¡¯t keep my eyes off the carrier. After a few moments, I noticed that Roy had been left in charge of babysitting me.


    ¡°How are you holding up?¡± he asked, standing beside me with his arms cross to admire the vehicle as well. ¡°You seem a little out of it.¡±


    [Yeah. All things considered, I can¡¯t complain. Not my first near death experience, as you know firsthand.]


    ¡°It gets any easier? First time I almost died, it certainly changed my perspective on things.¡± He glanced back at the group where Roxy was arguing with Clara over something. Maybe grenades.


    [There¡¯s certainly a lot more at stake these days. Roxy asked me if we were going steady earlier. I¡¯m not sure what that even means.]


    The Captain grinned. ¡°Rox can be hard-headed at the best of times, but she¡¯s clearly got a soft spot for you. I¡¯ve certainly seen odder couples, but¡­ don¡¯t worry about it. Just be true to yourself and honest with her.¡±


    [Speaking from experience?]


    ¡°Eh. Expert in theory, but I always fuck up the practicals. I¡¯m just not built for relationships, and I¡¯m fine with that these days.¡± He sighed and ran his eyes over the vehicle again.


    [Are you able to leak who Roxy¡¯s ex was?]


    ¡°Fuck no. Especially not while your screws are a little loose. The last thing we need is you going off the deep end right before our debut mission tomorrow. I¡¯m already feeling itchy about being underground again.¡±


    I gave him a quizzical look, and he realized that I hadn¡¯t been clued in on what was actually happening. He gestured, and we started to walk around the carrier slowly, to chat as we inspected it.


    ¡°Rox mentioned they wouldn¡¯t send you the brief until they knew your condition, so I guess they haven¡¯t decided yet.¡± Roy put his hands in his pockets as we flanked the vehicle. ¡°Some mad scientist whack job has been taking animals down into the sewers and mutating them into monstrosities.¡±


    [That¡¯s fucked up.]


    He burst out into laughter. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ve been through worse, Dubs. You really aren¡¯t yourself, huh? The villain doesn¡¯t have any known intention of taking his new pets out onto the streets, but it¡¯s only a matter of time. Thankfully, it won¡¯t be a fully public mission. They have various names for these things¡­ I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve done your homework.¡± The grin told me he knew I hadn¡¯t.


    [I¡¯m well versed in erasing monsters.]


    ¡°Generally speaking, a mission would be either Public or Private. All eyes on us, or actual work without so much media bullshit.¡± We paused at the rear of the stocky transport, where the back would open down to allow us entrance. ¡°Of course, the League will milk what they can, and everything has a narrative. It¡¯s our debut, so we can¡¯t just go kick the shit out of the bad guys and head home¡­ but they don¡¯t want blood on the streets, either.¡±


    [How are they advertising our work if we¡¯re hidden away, then?]


    ¡°They call it Seeded.¡± The Captain pulled a face, clearly unimpressed with the way that the League worked. ¡°For days, they¡¯ve been putting information out into the press that there have been monster sightings. Mutated strays and things going bump in the night. Tomorrow there will be rumors of a villain planning to assault the district we¡¯ll be doing the mission in.¡±


    [Then we¡¯ll just pop out of the sewers once the job is done, covered in blood and filth, with the cameras rolling. A few corpses as prop evidence to really sell we were the heroes responsible for saving the city.]


    ¡°You¡¯re a natural, Dubs.¡± Roy gave me a wink. ¡°Keep playing the game and the League will allow you a simple enough life. Assuming that you can avoid kicking your way into S-Rank villain lairs, at least.¡±


    [You also forget about our side hustle.]


    ¡°Ah, fuck. You¡¯re right. Wasteland bullshit.¡± He grimaced and shook his head. ¡°At least the League should allow us to settle into being a hero team for a while before we¡¯re kicking up bloodied dust again.¡±


    [There was something I wanted to ask you about that¡­ but my mind is lagging. Let¡¯s head back to the table, if that¡¯s fine.]


    He gave me a nod, and we returned to the party. Most conversations were going in and out of my ears without sticking, but it was enough for me to see everyone in a good mood. There weren¡¯t even any nerves about tomorrow. I was sure that even if Clara convinced the League that I was good to go, they¡¯d expect me to take it easy and probably assign Belle as my babysitter.


    Sewer fighting sounded mundane, anyway. Other than making sure Roxy didn¡¯t set off any gas pockets with her lava powers, the super could probably solo a mission like that. Several thoughts pinned to my mental fridge at an earlier date had fallen off, magnets ceasing to function at present. I¡¯d pick them up when I was a little more lucid.


    After taking the backseat in the current goings on for another fifteen minutes, I felt like my mind had melted away. Some sleep would be a good idea. I blinked away the haze as Roxy and Roy had a lopsided arm wrestling contest, and glanced at the techie sitting to my right. In an attempt to get her sole attention, I lifted my gun-arm up and over her. Rather than wait for my message, I was surprised as she leaned closer and rested her head on my chest.


    [I think I¡¯m at my limit.]


    She nodded and gave me a pat on the knee, turning her head slightly so that she could glare intently at the super.


    Roxy caught the stare and looked at me. A brief smile and slight nod, getting the unspoken message. Although... Clara could have also just sent her one through their STARs. What remained of the party was a numb blur as each of the guests gave me a hug and their well-wishes. Hopefully, for my next birthday party I¡¯d be more lucid. And still alive.


    While the helicopter spun away from the top of the warehouse, the super looped her arm through mine and led me to the house.


    ¡°We just need to go to the dining room for your last gift, then I¡¯ll take you up. If you could do the honors, Clara?¡±


    The techie nodded and hit the stairs as I was taken into the room beneath them. Once a place where I had been operated on, it was now clear of any evidence I had almost bled to death under Clara¡¯s desperate medical care. Plain and unassuming. With a gesture, Roxy had us both sit down on the floor.


    [Do you think I¡¯ll be well enough for the mission tomorrow?]


    She pulled my hand over and held it on her lap. ¡°You won¡¯t be one-hundred percent, but Clara is confident you can participate enough for the team reveal.¡±


    Maybe a little violence would help sharpen my dull blade. I¡¯m sure the abominable creatures were kickable and allergic to grenades. I fought the urge to empower my V-Force drives. Thankfully, Clara¡¯s light footsteps coming back down the stairs distracted me from a potential adrenaline spike.


    ¡°This is¡­ it¡¯s an odd one,¡± Roxy apologized in advance. ¡°I might have been way off the mark but-¡±


    [Don¡¯t worry, I trust your judgement.]


    The techie appeared, a thick cardboard box in her hands. It was dull gray in color, with several small holes along the top edges of each side. Gingerly, she stepped forward and placed it on the floor in front of us. Clara sat down on the other side, so that we were forming a triangle around the gift.


    A discreet, high-pitched wail came from within.


    The weight of the quiet tension in the room that followed willed me to act before anyone had the chance to acknowledge the sound. Left hand went forward. Undid the simple clasp keeping the box closed, and allowed it to open.


    A small cat looked up at me, unimpressed with the change in lighting. It mewed once more, screaming for validation. The top half of it was patches of varying shades of gray, its underside and most of the four fluffy legs a bright white. Two green eyes winced as it sought my attention a third time.


    Without delaying any further, I reached down to pluck it out. This explained Roxy¡¯s awkward conversation about our relationship status. We now owned a shared pet. Something that normal people did on the regular. I was now one of those people.


    ¡°Please tell me if it¡¯s too much, or not your style or if this is-¡± the super began.


    [I had a dream about kittens the other day.]


    Clara tilted her head. ¡°Coincidence, or perhaps your premotion does more than get you in trouble.¡±


    ¡°Our lives are always detracted from the norm. Weird job. Weird friends. Weird relationships. Connecting with something average helps life feel less bullshit.¡±


    I held the cat up against my chest, cradling the small creature in my hand. He was small, weak, and soft. Yet, any violent thoughts had completely evaporated from my mind. Perhaps because he was neither hero nor villain. I wasn¡¯t programmed to kill innocents. He mewed at me again and I placed him gently on the floor.


    [Does he have a name?]


    ¡°Well, I figured you could choose.¡± Roxy smiled and leaned closer to get a better look at the kitten. She glanced up at the techie, who was still maintaining a neutral expression. ¡°Are you not overwhelmed by the cuteness, Clara?¡±


    ¡°What makes you think I would have an affinity for a small, aloof creature known for their superiority complex?¡± She crossed her arms, but was clearly watching me interact with the kitten.


    I ran my finger down the top of his head and neck, and he pushed himself into me eagerly. Acceptance, without question or judgement. Simple, and something only my exhausted brain could find so earth-shattering. But it was. The unbiased view of the cat put things into perspective about my existence. Which reminded me of¡­ reminded me of¡­


    [W¡­ Warlock.]


    ¡°Warlock?¡± Roxy raised an eyebrow, shooting a glance between me and the techie. ¡°That¡¯s the name?¡±


    [Yes. Yes, I¡­]


    It felt as though someone had just dumped my brain in a blender and hit the on switch. Misshaped thoughts and shadowed memories darted around but didn¡¯t hit my conscious mind. The smell of blood and chill of an unfelt breeze ran through my body.


    [May I have a moment alone?]


    Although confused and worried, they allowed it. ¡°We¡¯ll just be in the kitchen, okay?¡±


    I nodded and continued petting at the kitten until their footsteps left me alone. With all that I could offer, I pushed together something salient. Like a clay vase still in progress, crushed by clumsy hands. Not whole or proper, but enough to where the raw emotion of it was clear.


    [Warlock. I am¡­ so sorry.]


    Gently, I plucked the cat up and placed him on my lap. Resumed the light strokes across his back.


    [I¡­ miss you. I know you are gone and hope you can forgive me. Forgave me. I¡­]


    There were no further words. Tears leaked from me, despite no sadness really hitting. In all honesty, I wasn¡¯t entirely sure what was going on. Part of the old me dredged up some thoughts. A squad member I was close to. One of my potential brothers that had stood by me until the end. Not facts, but a believable enough story.


    Warlock purred as the old me cried over something the current me had no attachment to. I felt relieved and peaceful. Nothing else in the world mattered in this moment other than the unconditional love of this tiny animal. I would destroy the world for this cat.


    After a few minutes, when my eyes finally became unblurred and dry, Warlock had fallen asleep on my lap. Content. I looked up to see Roxy hovering in the doorway; her face hovering between several different emotions.


    [Thank you. This means a lot to me.]


    The super came in to fuss over the kitten for a bit, while the techie started furnishing the house with all the necessary things he would need. While I was overjoyed and wanted to share this moment for a while longer, the sedatives were hitting me hard and I needed to rest. I stacked away several conversations-in-wait and internal monologues for a better day.


    A quick explanation, and Roxy set the cogs in motion. Warlock was hoisted away by Clara to move to one of his beds, and I was led upstairs. My leg cybernetics ached as I moved my way to the bedroom, which was an odd and confusing feeling.


    Tomorrow I would be out and active again. A Hero with a capital h. Stronger, and with new toys to play with. Maybe slightly insane.


    Roxy closed the bedroom door and came over to me to unbutton my shirt. ¡°I hope you had a good evening. We¡¯ll do it again when you¡¯re feeling better. The other assholes were begging me to do it today rather than delay it.¡±


    [It was great to see them again. They must have been worried.]


    ¡°Yeah, they were.¡± She pulled the shirt off my arms and away. ¡°You¡¯re the cornerstone of our little gang, so we need you to stick around.¡± Her hands came down and paused as she held the buckle for my slacks. She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. ¡°Say, how much energy do you have before you pass out?¡±


    [For you, I would endure eternity.]


    ¡°Good answer.¡± She pushed me onto the bed before ripping off her dress in one quick motion.


    It was the best birthday I had ever had.

 122 - Fresh Afternoon Air

    My eyes opened up, and I felt like a new man.


    It was a new day. Judging by the light in the room, I had probably slept a good fifteen hours or so. The prior day felt like a good dream - the swirls of jovial socialization, my birthday slash celebratory party, and some promise hinted for the future.


    The rest of the bed was empty, and there was no techie sitting by my side to make sure I was fine. For several moments, I listened to the peace surrounding me, only slightly concerned that I may have died during my sleep. The smell of coffee and something else cooking managed to reach my re-breather, and I committed to meeting the day and finding out how real this was.


    My legs were¡­ mine. Cybernetic, of course, but any lingering disassociation has eked itself out of my psyche overnight. No doubt, once I eventually met my end, there would be a few people interested in dissecting me to see how I ticked.


    Out of bed and I pulled on some clean compression shorts and a t-shirt. This pair of shorts ended at my knees, the dark fabric blending into the metal of the replacement parts like I was wearing a black supersuit. I liked the look. After giving my back a stretch, I turned to the doorway and left.


    The smell of cooking was more intense on the landing. Banana bread, if I wasn¡¯t mistaken. I was in such a good mood that I didn¡¯t even feel envious of those who could eat it. My feet took me halfway down the stairs before I paused to look at the bottom.


    [Good morning, Warlock.]


    Or afternoon, whatever it was. The kitten was standing at the bottom of the stairs, winding up to wail back at me in response.


    Roxy poked her head out from the kitchen doorway. ¡°Afternoon, babe. Poor critter has been crying for you all morning. He is too small to get up the stairs.¡±


    [What could he possibly desire from me with such impatience?]


    ¡°Take that up with him.¡± She smiled and ducked back into the kitchen, but continued to talk. ¡°Come grab a fresh can and then give me an honest appraisal of your well-being. As the second in command, I need to know how fucked we are tonight.¡±


    I had a smart comment loaded up in the chamber about our activities last night, but let it slide. There was still the chance she killed me accidentally, and this was all a dream. I plucked the kitten up and held him against my chest. After a moment of squirming, he was then calm.


    [I¡¯m not sure I ever heard that there was a second-in-command position within the team.]


    ¡°If you know what¡¯s good for you, you¡¯ll accept that rather quickly.¡±


    I stepped into the kitchen. In a word, it was a mess. Although the super looked cool as a cucumber, she was clearly using baking as a way to deal with her pre-mission stress. She read that thought process straight from my brain and gave me an unapologetic shrug.


    ¡°Clara won¡¯t talk to me, and I didn¡¯t want to wake you up earlier as you were resting. It was either pull my hair out while Warlock cried for you non-stop, or do something productive.¡±


    [Post-mission party?]


    She bit her tongue. Looking around at the flour everywhere, several surfaces covered with muffins and other still-warm baked cakes, she relented at the suggestion. ¡°Sure, assuming we let the rest of the team go wash off before coming over? I¡¯m not having the house stink like sewer shit. Roy owes me some credits for losing in the arm wrestling match, anyway.¡±


    I could tell she was secretly happy that we¡¯d be socializing again. While she wasn¡¯t so out in the open as I had been about it, her life must have been rather lonely until we started butting heads. The rekindled friendship with the heroes had been a huge plus for the both of us. Even with my wits sharper this morning, I still had no idea why the Captain would even accept a bet over a contest of strength with Roxy of all people.


    She came over to me, the fresh canister in her hand. ¡°Out with it then, Dubs. What fresh hell are you living through today?¡±


    [Other than broken pelvises¡­]


    ¡°Shut the fuck up.¡± She leaned forward and gave me a peck on the re-breather, her hand petting Warlock on his head. The cat had remained placid and content ever since I had picked him up, and now vibrated with a purr.


    Maybe an odd decision to name him after one of my dead squad members. Usually I got my therapy between spates of mania or explosive violence, so this was a healthier alternative. While most of my past group was shrouded in the unknown, I had hit a connection somewhere in there. Warlock had been a friend, and on my side whenever the rift had happened. Clinging to this positive memory and tying it to the cat might be a way for me to start pulling threads into my mind in a safer way.


    [I¡¯m actually feeling very at peace with everything. So far I have no pain, delusions, or anguish to report. Unless this whole domestic bliss thing is imagined because I¡¯ve died or have really gone insane.]


    ¡°Domestic bliss,¡± she repeated. Her eyes went around the productive calamity that had struck the kitchen, then at the small kitten nestled in my hand, before finally back into my eyes. ¡°It¡¯s a promising start, isn¡¯t it? Part of me feels it won¡¯t last¡­ things with me usually don¡¯t - but! You¡¯re different. Things are good. You¡­ I think you complete me, Natural Disasters team leader Gunquake.¡±


    [Then we¡¯ll never be apart, as I wouldn¡¯t want you to be anything but your best self.]


    Roxy gave me a pout before pulling me closer for a hug and softer kiss, being careful not to squish Warlock. ¡°I didn¡¯t mention this before¡ªso much has been going on¡ªbut the League ran some testing on me when I was locked up.¡±


    [Oh? What kind of testing?]


    ¡°Nothing terrible. They have a¡­ theory about my power. Reasonable as shit, if you ask me, but it¡¯s not an exact science.¡± She stepped back and tilted her head. ¡°Even as buff as I am, I shouldn¡¯t have been able to pop Red Dust that easily. Severe burns, maybe. As a S-Rank, he could have resisted and fought back to some degree¡­ but I tore through him like he was nothing.¡±


    [Your power must be able to spike based on your mood? The anger you must have felt in seeing me¡­]


    ¡°That¡¯s what they¡¯re saying, but that¡¯s not the end of it. League docs also think that it swings like a pendulum. The calmer I am pre-enrage, the higher the power spike. You make me pretty relaxed, so¡­¡±


    [Ah, I see. You mean ¡®dormant¡¯, though.]


    The longer she stayed in this content state, the deeper the well of pressure built up inside her. Bursting out the lava allowed her to reach past her current Ranking, even if only briefly.


    ¡°I wonder how powers are really chosen,¡± she pondered idly, as she helped replace my cannister. ¡°Like it¡¯s clearly not just strength and lava - I am volcanic as shit. Am I blessed by an outside force, like Belle? Even magic powers are somewhat explainable, and it¡¯s definitely not technology. I embrace what I now am. It just confuses me.¡±


    The kitten meowed his thoughts.


    [I agree, Warlock. Natural Disasters second-in-command Rockslide needs to learn that answers often come when you don¡¯t try to find them.]


    ¡°Alright, enough of your wisdom and smarm.¡± She held her hands out to retrieve the cat from me. ¡°Go sort out Clara, would you? Her way of dealing with the stress is becoming a grouchy hermit, but she did want to explain that new ammunition to you.¡±


    I tipped an invisible hat toward the super as a farewell and gave Warlock a quick pet before leaving. If I knew anything about Clara, she¡¯d either be in the workshop or her office. Opening the front door, I took one step out onto the porch and paused.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    We had Sanguine stakes now - or at least our own variants. Metal that partially ignored super powers. Twenty of them. That was enough to erase four whole teams above us on the rankings.


    I grimaced at my first violent thought of the day, as if I had knocked over a pot of ink. The pristine white of my heavenly day was now marred, and I rolled my eyes at the self-inflicted melodrama. The Stakes were a get-out-of-fuckville card, allowing me to win over odds than I¡¯d normally be incapable of surviving. Mostly useful for our wasteland activities, but part of me knew that offing Red Dust was only the beginning of a dark adventure pinned somewhere in the future.


    Today we just danced to the League¡¯s tune, and I felt as spry as ever with my new legs.


    The additional Quake shots were nice as well. I had to push the theme now that I had the bigwigs making money off me. Once I had the all-clear, I¡¯d need to practice jumping from heights onto my ground-shattering feet. My eyes went across the yard to the massive carrier, looking no less impressive in the daylight. It needed a name, and I wanted something less packed full of cheese than just sticking ¡®quake¡¯ in front of a suitable noun.


    I didn¡¯t even make it two more steps across the soft grass before the workshop door opened up. Clara appeared in her usual working gear - although now with a new addition. Some manner of backpack that had two metal arms extending out in front of her. One held an open book, while the second on her left side split into several short fingers that had tools on the end. She met me in the middle and caught my raised eyebrow at the new tech.


    ¡°Helping Hands. Only D-Grade, but I had much more important things to spend my funds on this week.¡±


    I glanced over at the large vehicle. Even with Director Kingston¡¯s assistance, that couldn¡¯t have been easy to procure. The techie followed my gaze and caught my train of thought.


    ¡°Not only that, Gunquake, but I have been pulling every string, working every favor owed, and pulling out all the blackmail I have to ensure the new outfits for the team are up to spec.¡±


    [I¡¯ll ignore that last part. Isn¡¯t the League in charge of that?]


    ¡°Those at the League have a two-dimensional thought process, and mostly care about aesthetic. Looks are important for a hero''s image, but they are shy about investing time and money into functional or¡­ exotic options. One example is the arcane crystals. The League doesn¡¯t know that Belle needs a bracer of them, and we can¡¯t be overt in showing them.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°The rest you¡¯ll see when we meet the team before the mission.¡±


    [Understandable. Any last-minute tech we need to go over?]


    Clara nodded and stepped forward to place her palm on my forehead. ¡°Rockslide was under instruction to only send you to me if you were in good condition. There will be a point today where you will tire, but your stamina for enduring your legs will have increased.¡± Her hand withdrew. ¡°You will scale back your involvement in the mission as soon as your mind starts to waver, understood?¡±


    [Is that an order?]


    The techie narrowed her eyes. ¡°If you know what is good for you, Gunquake. Which history suggests you do not. Please make an exception, not just for the success of the mission, but for those of us that care for you.¡±


    I felt a pang of guilt. Coming to terms with my worth as a person had been a bloody and error-filled adventure that had dragged a handful of people through the mud. If the feeling of peace I had awoken with persisted, then perhaps I¡¯d turned a new, cleaner leaf.


    [You have my word that I will be cautious and not overextend.]


    ¡°More fool me, but I believe you.¡± She relaxed and gestured towards the workshop. ¡°The Sunder shot I have created is an armor-piercing shell filled with the expanding foam. Good for jamming the working parts of mechanized foes, or splitting chitinous plates of insectoid monsters. I¡¯m sure you could find more creative uses, Gunquake, but they will just go straight through soft targets without activating¡ªjust to forewarn you.¡±


    [Understood. Handy to have on hand, the same as most of my ammunition types.]


    ¡°All of your lens functionality is now within your updated STAR tech, but I have replaced your goggles with the tech-less variant. Other than that, there are no additions or alterations to your gear.¡±


    I nodded and looked down at my feet.


    ¡°Custom boots are a work in progress.¡± She sighed. ¡°You could wear your normal ones tonight, as I suggest you don¡¯t use your legs for anything but walking. I know you can¡¯t be stopped, however.¡± The techie gestured to her temple. ¡°I¡¯m forwarding the mission briefing to you now that we¡¯ve established you are coherent enough to proceed. As your sidekick I am always beholden to your every whim, but now that you¡¯re the leader you are afforded the same advisory services I granted Rockslide.¡±


    A notification popped up at the top of my vision to tell me the documents had been received. Roy had already yapped about the most important details. Head to a sewer base and arrest the madman mutating stray animals and stolen pets into abominations. The actual details were more granular than that, and I focused on the actual process.


    ¡°There are two potential entrances to the lair,¡± Clara explained as I read through. ¡°Vertical entrance that is almost right on top of the target''s area of influence, but is nearby the busy mall area, or a horizontal maintenance tunnel that is much further away and would require extra walking.¡±


    I nodded along as the gears in my mind turned. It was a blessing that I had my senses with me this afternoon and could think clearly.


    [You said that you can remotely control the¡­ Meteor?]


    ¡°Fitting name, Gunquake. Yes, I can.¡±


    [We¡¯ll take the longer route if you could park the vehicle over the sewer entrance near the mall after we disembark.]


    ¡°Oh? Certainly. May I ask for your reasoning?¡± She tilted her head, visibly curious.


    [The mall offers better visibility when it comes to publicity, but the close proximity to the villain¡¯s lair is too dangerous in case he tries to run. Shit always hits the fan, and we can¡¯t risk the monsters actually becoming a danger to the public. The longer route will afford us space to retreat if necessary, and placing the Meteor in that position not only blocks an escape route for our target but also generates publicity via just existing somewhere so visible.]


    ¡°So if all goes according to plan, you might exit the sewers through that route, literally revealing the team upon success.¡±


    [Precisely. Any input on my decision?]


    ¡°No.¡± She smiled. ¡°Run it by Rockslide, but I imagine you¡¯ll receive nothing but praise. I know this is long past, but I¡¯m happy to be your sidekick and part of your ascension.¡±


    That made it sound like I was going to become something great. The potential was there; I had to admit. While there were wolves stalking around the darkness, the campfire was currently bright and warm. Becoming a hero under the League was an excuse to break off the rust of my past experience, and really excel at something - without needing to kill.


    Before I could give her a response, her eyes went past me. A familiar wail drew my attention, and I turned to see Warlock trotting through the grass toward us. Just before he got to our position, he sped up, almost sprinting in the direction of the open door of Clara¡¯s office.


    ¡°Rockslide said he is almost as much of a diva as I am.¡± She crossed her arms again and gave the cat a disapproving glare. ¡°Which is why I went off to the workshop to pout instead of talking with her more.¡±


    [You two couldn¡¯t be any more different. Is it safe for him to be running about outside?]


    I avoided most of her glare by adding the question after the statement. ¡°The protective dome also acts as a barrier due to how small and weak he is. Even if he is strong willed, he won¡¯t want to leave the safety, and nothing can get in. Oh, that reminds me. I¡¯ve added Doctor Jarl to the whitelist, so the turrets don¡¯t turn him into mincemeat when he comes to assist me with your new arm.¡±


    [Reasonable. He really is interested in helping, then?]


    ¡°Practically begging, Gunquake. Your leg accident and rendezvous with the Doctor has been a step up for me as well. I am now his assistant rather than a student. Taken under his wing as his prot¨¦g¨¦. The best cybernetics expert on the continent.¡±


    [And you didn¡¯t even have to bribe him.]


    ¡°Partially true.¡± She rolled her eyes and looked over at the warehouse. ¡°I have promised him some of the metal from the mecha.¡±


    Assuming his assistance would get me a hand much quicker, that seemed a reasonable compromise. From what I have heard from the grumblings of all involved, working with the ancient metal was a huge pain. The hobgoblins had been having trouble melting and shaping it, and we¡¯d only been able to split small parts with the help of Roxy¡¯s full power.


    [I can¡¯t think of two better people I¡¯d trust to create a new hand for me. It¡¯s just a shame you¡¯re being so tight-lipped about it.]


    ¡°A shame for you, Gunquake. I¡¯m not in the market of making false promises, and I do not want potential functionality to be known until it is tested and working. I¡¯ve even had Doctor Jarl sign a non-disclosure agreement.¡±


    [It must be pretty serious, then.]


    Clara paused, wrinkling up her face for a moment before responding. ¡°I dare say it would be the best work of my life, Gunquake. A shame to peak so young, but perhaps there¡¯s a way you can reward me for my selflessness in the future. Assuming it works, of course.¡±


    [If it is that important, then anything you desire.]


    ¡°Hmm.¡± She shot me a smirk before turning away to return to her office. ¡°You have a few hours before we need to get ready, Gunquake. Familiarize yourself with Meteor while I finish work on my new drone.¡±


    I watched her leave, slightly envious that Warlock was hanging out with her for a bit. Understandable, of course. No doubt she had been up late pottering about with research or preparation. It was likely she had a bed for him right next to her warm computers. If anything, that actually made me feel comforted that he¡¯d be nice and safe while the rest of us were out on our mission.


    The chamber on my gun-arm opened and closed with a muted clack as I shook my limbs out. I turned to the large vehicle and stepped forward.


    My eyes went past it and the other buildings toward Goldarch. Tonight I would lead a team of my friends against a villain threatening the city¡­


    No, this was my city.


    Intentions clear and morale at an all-time high, the STAR chose this time to tell me that full functionality was now unlocked. Something told me they were making sure I wasn''t overstimulated while recovering, and it wasn''t the hovering notifications appearing and stacking on top of each other.


    I raised my eyes to several new streams of incoming messages, picking out one from a very unexpected sender.

 123 - Dressed to Arrest

    Utilizing the dull hook attached to the warehouse table, I pulled the tactical glove down over my hand. Satisfied that it was on comfortably, I stepped back and adjusted my balaclava, before pulling my trenchcoat hood up.


    Fully dressed and outfitted head to toe.


    My boots felt a little odd on my metal feet, and I had to sit down for ten minutes to avoid a bout of vertigo, but the positive attitude I had started the day with still lingered. The sun was setting, and it was soon time to meet up with the team to go through mission information. We had scheduled a little time beforehand to have a proper celebration over each of our new costumes as well.


    While I had nothing new going on in that department, I took it to heart that this sort of thing was massive for a hero. I would be there cheering them on, just as they would be by my side when fighting evil. Or whatever crackpot villain-of-the-week the League threw us at.


    The handful of messages that had dropped into my STAR had mostly been well-wishes from my friends during my recovery time. One from Stacy to say that Director Kingston was personally handling our debut mission, but she¡¯d be around if I needed her. A few deleted messages from Roxy where she had tried to write me a poem and had second thoughts, removed before I could get a whiff of it.


    But the really interesting one was from someone I hadn¡¯t expected and was only three words long.


    //Silhouette: Watch your step.


    After mulling over what sort of tone he was trying to convey, I opted to just respond with a smiley face. He hadn¡¯t sent anything back since, so perhaps I¡¯d count that as a win for my good mood. While the stealthy S-Rank may be my brother by blood, he wasn¡¯t keen on showing his hand over his real identity - if he even remembered. We were still light on information, but my gut told me that he wasn¡¯t Warlock.


    With one last check of all my gear, I was content. Gunquake. No longer Bard or Agent W.


    I left the warehouse into the cool evening air. Meteor sat there, inert and ready. It had been pretty easy to work out the controls, and I imagined the only issue I¡¯d have in driving it was in not decimating everything else unlucky enough to share the road with us. Some functions I could activate with my STAR, and for everything else there were labeled buttons. There was a screen across the front interior rather than a window. Linked to a shielded camera on the exterior, it also overlayed handy information about the terrain and status of the vehicle.


    The corpse of the quakewagon was still a sad memory, but Meteor would suffer no similar fate. I gave the hull a gentle pat as I continued past to the garden. It was nice to have something with a bit of guaranteed longevity to it. I just needed to be painted with that same brush.


    Before I could seek out one of the two women who had been avoiding me, the buzz of a drone drew my attention. The replacement of the one destroyed in my very close fight with Red Dust was of a similar design to this new one, although the drone hovering down in front of me was slightly more robust and had several cylindrical pods attached alongside it. It twirled in the air as if it was showing off, then departed to go land atop Clara¡¯s office.


    I followed it, pushing through the door to find the techie sitting in her chair, massaging her forehead with her fingertips. Her computer station had evolved from having three screens to now seven, four of them relatively small in comparison to the others. A stack of three closed laptops was on the left side of the desk, while the right had a cat bed. Warlock was stretched out and asleep within.


    [Everything okay?]


    Clara sighed and leaned back in her chair, turning it around to face me with a glum expression on her face. ¡°Information overload. I¡¯m actually feeling burned out for a change, Gunquake.¡±


    [If you share some of that useless information, will that relieve the pressure? You won¡¯t have to worry about containing all of it, then.]


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure it works that way.¡± She tilted her head from side to side. ¡°But for you, I¡¯m willing to try.¡±


    Before she began, I stepped over to the right and pulled one of the spare chairs over. Not because I expected this to be an especially long tale, but remaining on my legs for too long was asking for trouble.


    ¡°I picked up a lot of data about demons, adjacent to my research into Demonic Regeneration. Apparently they aren¡¯t that common in Othea anymore, due to some war that happened a long time ago. It¡¯s not clear how much is fable, or an accurate recounting¡­ but it is alleged the prime evil - the God of Sin, was destroyed and split himself into thirteen parts. The Inheritors of these powers are in a constant battle for the throne in hell.¡±


    [Interesting. How would I recognize a demon if I saw one out in the world?]


    ¡°Chances are slim, Gunquake. The short answer is you probably wouldn¡¯t. While many demons differ based on their ancestry and source of power, the ones who are able to travel planes of existence all have the same core traits. Firstly, they all have a Mask, which allows them to change their appearance to fit in with society.¡±


    I nodded along. They probably weren¡¯t magically based either, so I wouldn¡¯t be able to sense them that way. Perhaps someone who had a holy energy based source of power?


    ¡°Generally they are terrible with metaphors and common idioms. Oh, another one is that they aren¡¯t always¡­ comically evil. Demons have the capacity to live peaceful and even ¡®good¡¯ lives, but they will always have the compulsion to commit minor strife. Mischief, petty crime, sinister or threatening actions - it¡¯s a matter of control and personal pride.¡±


    [So that narrows it down to¡­ almost anyone.]


    ¡°Maybe we are the real demons all along.¡± Clara shook her head to avoid showing me a brief smile. Unsuccessfully. ¡°That might have helped a little, actually. Thank you, Gunquake.¡±


    [It¡¯s the least I could do. I feel bad that you will be here alone tonight, and don¡¯t even have a costume reveal.]


    ¡°I¡¯d much rather be able to wear what I wanted¡­ or nothing at all.¡± She furrowed her brow and glanced at the sleeping kitten. ¡°Plus, being out in the field is not my style. Warlock and I will watch eagerly from the cover of safety. You¡¯ll all have body cameras so that I have eyes on everything. While the drone is on your back, it has an extendable camera that will watch over your shoulder - as well as behind you.¡±


    [I¡­ really like that.]


    ¡°I know.¡±


    It was something that rubbed me in a way that felt familiar. Likely, it was how things used to run when we were a squad. As much as it was an undertaking for the techie to be focused on so much, the more accurate information I had fed straight into my brain, the more confident I¡¯d feel when in the thick of it.


    [How does your new drone differ? I¡¯ll assume it won¡¯t get much use down in the sewers.]


    ¡°Correct. Flying limitations aside, it would just get in the way of the others. For the most part, it is the same model as the prior, as the League will not sign off on anything with actual weaponry built in.¡± Clara sighed again and gave the kitten a dejected glance. ¡°For now, it has two Tazer chargers and a conal Flash activation on a five minute recharge. Not game changing, but an addition to your arsenal to tip odds in your favor.¡±


    [That¡¯ll save you from having to battering-ram criminals with it, at least.]


    The sour expression she shot me told me all I needed to know. Until she pressed a button on her keyboard, and my eyes lit up with a light wireframe. The techie and Warlock highlighted with a slight red outline. Details ran down my peripheral, giving distance to the pair, potential threats, and ideal weak points to exploit.


    [This is¡­ new. My old STAR never had this kind of information.]


    ¡°What are you suggesting, Gunquake?¡± A coy smile formed at the side of her mouth. ¡°That I would secretly replace the STAR chip Doctor Jarl intended to load into you with one I had personally modified on a prior occasion with illegally gained military software without his knowledge? I would never admit to such a thing.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t the first time I had thought this, but I was glad that she was on our side. The only option was to trust her fully, otherwise I¡¯d be in a constant state of panic. She¡¯d do the best for the both of us, no matter what lines she had to cross to make that reality. It made her the perfect accomplice to the retired tool of murder and raging powder keg that me and Roxy were. Warlock was just an angel. Figuratively.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    [Chances we are way too overpowered for beating up a few monsters in the sewers?]


    ¡°The odds are good, which you should be thankful for.¡± Clara turned in her chair to face her computers properly. ¡°League work should be boring and safe, Gunquake. Assuming you don¡¯t go wandering again and drag the team into a war against the League of Villains, then it should stay as dull as tonight.¡± She hesitated before typing. Swearing under her breath, she realized what she had said.


    [That¡¯s on you if it ends up happening now. I¡¯m going to see if Roxy is ready. I assume the rest of the team will start arriving soon.]


    The techie murmured something under her breath as I stepped back out of the office, but had nothing important to add. Rather than stomp around the house after the super, I sent her a message through my STAR to come out when ready - and I went and sat at the garden table.


    No nerves for what was to come. Like Clara had said - League work was meant to be easily winnable. It was good for business. The performative aspect of it wasn¡¯t even that dire sounding. After all, I could be charismatic at times. A few words about keeping the city safe after punting some basic monsters in the face, the villain tied up and looking sour for being caught¡­ it was almost guaranteed.


    A glance at my calendar, and Stacy and her assistant had already populated several things for the coming week. Tomorrow we had our debriefing. The talking heads at the League of Heroes would tell us what went wrong, how we could improve, and push our career trajectories forward.


    I also had a solo mission in three days, but there was no information attached to it. The day after that, I had a potential press briefing. On the basis I didn¡¯t fuck anything up before then. It all sounded rather droll, and I was more interested in finding out if Director Kingston would have another wastelands job for us soon.


    Not that I was keen to be excavating another mutant-filled hole in the desert so soon after our last campaign through it. That book had closed, and it was time to write a new chapter filled with gritty city fighting and the office politics of being a law-abiding League mook. I was overjoyed.


    Any further self-reflective smarm was cut short by the sound of the door to the house opening, the figure of Roxy shadowed by the awning briefly before she stepped out into the light.


    I paused as I drank in her new look and she stopped on the grass, fists balled on her hips as she posed like a hero.


    This supersuit had no sleeves, just like her old one, showing off her muscular arms. Instead of covering her whole legs, her new suit cut off around the middle of her thighs. The bright orange and silver had been replaced by a gradient of brown, lighter near her neck and darkest around her waist. Black, low-cut boots, and bracelets that matched her volcanic earrings. In a first, she wore some makeup - mostly dark eyeliner that helped sell the anti-hero look we were supposed to be going for. Behind her hung a waist-length cape of bright yellow and amber.


    [Wow, you look fantastic.]


    She shook her head and relaxed her posture. ¡°Wait for the best part, babe.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow and watched as she held her arms out and frowned. The air around her wavered as she became super-heated, and her arms burst into lava. Just as she did so, the top of her suit began changing color.


    Starting up by her neck, the brown lightened into orange¡ªthen yellow¡ªas the color ran down her torso. It was clearly meant to look like an overflowing volcano. Roxy switched the powers off, and the brown started to fade back up her suit.


    [Imagine I¡¯m making a whistling sound. Impressive.]


    ¡°Clara¡¯s idea, and I¡¯m pretty sure she twisted their arm into doing it.¡± She looked down and kicked at the grass. ¡°Shit, burned some of the lawn. It¡¯s all heat resistant, as long as I keep it to my legs and arms. Materials that can resist lava temperatures aren¡¯t often as flexible as I¡¯d need for an outfit.¡±


    [Are you happy with the new look, however?]


    ¡°I look like a huge bitch - I love it.¡± She grinned and stepped over to join me. ¡°Best thing, though, no fucking padding. Had to almost put some jerkoff through the wall for them to agree, but now the internet trolls can cry over my real tits and ass.¡±


    [There¡¯s nothing wrong with either.]


    She sat down, leaning forward to give me a kiss on the re-breather before sitting back. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re my favorite. I¡¯m actually surprised the League is cool with me looking like such an asshole. Hopefully I don¡¯t stand out against the others.¡±


    [They¡¯ll be arriving soon?]


    ¡°Yep. One by one. They arranged it to be like that, because this is the prime time for us to be divas. I don¡¯t know anything about what they¡¯ll look like, other than Clara has meddled in the process¡­ for better or worse.¡±


    I nodded, and we turned as the door to the techie¡¯s office opened up. Perhaps on cue, but she was holding a small box in front of herself.


    ¡°Looking good, sister. I was going to make a sassy remark, but I genuinely mean it.¡± She stopped and placed the box on the ground. ¡°I have already been spoiled on the others, and I have to say my input was worth every effort.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fishing for praise all evening. Thank you, though.¡±


    Clara just gave us a wry smile, before she began taking out stones from the box. We sat in silence as she created a circle with the rocks, lastly placing some manner of flower in the center.


    [I am intrigued. Do I dare ask?]


    The techie stood and brushed her hands off on her overalls. ¡°The others weren¡¯t just sitting on their hands while you¡¯ve been busy losing limbs. Everyone seems to trust me with their secrets, which is interesting.¡±


    I exchanged a look with Roxy, but she just gave me a shrug in response. Seems like there was a lot more going on than we both realized, and yet the group had allowed yesterday to be only about me. The trauma of losing my legs aside, the last week had been nothing but reassurance that I was a whole real person. I owed them all a round of drinks.


    We both turned back to the three-foot wide circle of stones, as the flower within it started to glow green. A line of similar colored energy twisted out from the center, bouncing from and connecting each of the rocks in sequence. Back and forth like a spider creating a web. I could feel the draw of magical energy as the brightness increased. Familiar, of course. As the lines stopped and a crescendo of energy was reached, there was a pop, the surrounding air fizzing with static.


    Now a figure stood there.


    Brown boots leading up to dark leggings. A slim dress with repeating folds of several shades of green, root-like bands moving across in different directions like belts. Her sleeves were flared out by the hands now parting as the magical teleportation spell was complete. Faux leaves and detailed stitching added to the nature fairy design, something completed by small wings hiding behind Belle¡¯s back.


    She ran her hand through her pink hair, two lines of dark green war-paint underneath her eyes. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad I didn¡¯t fuck that up!¡±


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± Roxy stood up from her chair, moving around the table in an instant so that the pair could inspect each other.


    I kept out of the initial dervish of them explaining and oohing and ahhing over all the details of each other¡¯s outfits.


    ¡°Nervous? Yeah.¡± Belle clenched and unclenched her fists. ¡°Dropping the evangelical priest theme for something more fae orientated is a huge risk, but I love the look. With my stronger connection to Him, this fits much better.¡±


    [You look great.]


    She gave me a brief curtsey. ¡°You think that¡¯s good? Watch this.¡±


    With a hand extended, magic energy swirled around and the protective dome popped into existence over us. As it did so, her wings extended and bloomed into life. Much larger than when they were idle, she now looked like a butterfly - the wings themselves an ethereal shimmering purple and blue.


    A glance over at the techie¡¯s barely concealed pride told me that was Clara¡¯s doing. I hadn¡¯t expected her to be so invested in the superhero outfits, but I was starting to understand. She wanted us to excel and climb the rankings. No doubt the League would have just given us some basic outfits to work with, but these were excessively extra.


    Roxy then showed off her color changing suit by powering things up. No doubt she¡¯d be doing that another two times before we set off. She had a point about the League accepting these thematic revisions. I hadn¡¯t exactly met many heroes yet, but none had looked so dark and brooding¡ªnor overtly aesthetic¡ªas what we were becoming.


    I tilted my head and was the first to notice the streak of blue emerging from the city and headed at great speed along the road toward us. Several seconds after seeing it, the crack of thunder finally met our ears, just in time for the physical body of none other than Captain Snaps to arrive at our little enclave.


    His new outfit was even darker than Roxy¡¯s. A full suit of black and dark gray that resembled tactical gear. The various plates and bulky sections that made up the armor had cracks running through them, where several lines of light blue ran through the full length of his body in these shallow trenches. On his chest was a thunderbolt symbol where these pulses of light originated from, and it looked as though his electrifying gloves had been upgraded. He grinned and gave us all a bow.


    After the brief hello, I let the trio go over the flashy parts of their new outfits. Clara came and sat beside me in the meantime, the contentedness clear on her face.


    ¡°Not only has Belle improved her magical strength, connecting further to her patron with the assistance of the arcane crystals, but the Captain has been attending three different martial arts classes a day - when not otherwise occupied.¡±


    [I feel like I have been out of the loop with all this.]


    ¡°You¡¯re not expected to careful track the lives of several other people.¡± She tilted her head as Roy crackled with arcs of electricity. ¡°Although, you have a vested interest as their leader now, Gunquake.¡±


    [Are you offering to spy and keep me updated?]


    ¡°If you request me to.¡±


    The garden illuminated in a soft glow as Belle showed off her wings.


    [You¡¯re already doing a lot for me. For all of us. We can¡¯t function if you¡¯re burned out.]


    ¡°I can¡¯t function if I¡¯m not doing these things.¡± Clara put her hand on my gun-arm. ¡°Happiness comes to me via obsession. Every step that the group rises up together is fuel for my continued efforts.¡±


    [Then do as you will. As the leader, I trust in you to support me in every detail that will help the team. You are one of us, and will rise alongside us.]


    She smiled, but just gave me a nod in return.


    The sudden change in pressure was possibly one of the reasons. A breeze washed over us, shaking the grass and buffeting the group still gushing over the new outfits. In the dim light above our buildings, the final member of our group descended, standing atop her floating bow.


    Ren wore a hooded cloak of dark blue with pale edging. Her elven ears stuck out of the sides of the raised hood through slits, the shadows beneath obscuring her face and the goggles she was wearing. Similar to mine, but a bright blue instead of green, and a slimmer shape. The rest of her outfit was rather subtle and sleek, almost assassin-like. She dropped off of her bow from way too high up, but a plume of upward wind slowed her descent, her feet landing softly on the ground as she caught the falling bow with a flourish.


    We cheered, and the cycle of celebrating our new fits renewed with even more chatter. Clara and I got up and joined them, and as the full Natural Disasters, we were complete.


    I checked the time in my STAR before looking over toward the city.


    We were ready, but was Goldarch?

 124 - Below the Surface

    Meteor thundered its way toward the city like¡­ well, I probably didn¡¯t need to finish that thought. A surprisingly smooth ride, considering how large it was. Belle joined me at the front of the vehicle, while the other three sat on the long benches in the back. A few parachutes and it would look like we were about to drop into a war-zone. A memory that¡­ no, just my imagination.


    Other than extra magazines, ammunition, and grenades, we also had emergency medical supplies, suit repair, and several gadgets that hadn¡¯t been explained to us just yet - all in the back with the rest of the team. A mobile base that could take us anywhere we needed and lent us support, whether knocking out villains or shredding through mutant bases in the wastes.


    Once the team had finished chatting about our new look, we had sat at the garden table and I had gone through our plan of action. No disagreements or complaints over what I had decided. Every so often I would glance at Roxy to see what she thought, and there was nothing but eagerness and possibly pride in her flaming eyes.


    The reason that she wasn¡¯t sitting beside me in the Meteor was simply a tactical decision that she herself brought up. As the meat shield of the group, it made sense for her to be closest to the exit in case things went shitwards. Her words. Belle was the least directly combat-worthy, so being alongside me would be a boon to the both of us. As an aside, while the others were out of earshot, Roxy had also mentioned that Roy was a terrible backseat driver and would yap too much up front.


    Rather ironic considering he ran everywhere, but everyone seemed content with the current arrangement.


    Data ran over the screen that acted as our window to the road ahead. The route with the easiest terrain to traverse, graded by a faint colored outline. Estimated time of arrival. Speed, internal temperature, and status of the deployable tech the Meteor was equipped with.


    A message from Director Kingston came in through my STAR. Nothing too exciting. Some well-wishes and reassurance that our asses were on the line here. He didn¡¯t seem convinced that I was already able to walk, but trusted Clara¡¯s judgement to let me free on the city. It was beyond comprehension - most people agreed. Several times during our impromptu fashion show, I¡¯d catch comments from them forgetting that I had even lost my legs in the first place.


    The League might not consider me as having a superpower, but the results spoke for themselves. Short of losing my head, I was starting to believe I could recover from anything. Not that I was willing to test that theory. I was already under heavy observation to make sure I didn¡¯t lose the plot mid-mission, and Belle had been briefed on the potential need for babysitting duty.


    Which wasn¡¯t the worst thing in the world. Outside of the pair I lived with, I considered the once-priestess my closest friend. Almost like a sibling. Whether that was because she was the only one immune to my charming aura and could be real with me, or from just having spent the most time with her, it didn¡¯t matter. With life condensing into something normal, I¡¯d be able to do more with all of them outside of work.


    Hmm. Work was an interesting word. It had always been contracts or missions. Personal grievances or reckless obsessions. Distilled into something mundane, I wondered how long it would be before I grew tired of it all.


    Looking at the squad in the miniature ¡®cabin¡¯ screen on the main display, I reckoned it would be a while.


    The Villain was named Doctor Titus Hydra. We could only rough him up as much as was necessary to subdue and arrest him. His creations, we were allowed to put out of their misery. Putting down deformed abominations in the sewers wasn¡¯t the most glamorous of jobs, but the energy amongst the Natural Disasters was unshakable. Our big break, to stop the team from falling off of the rankings and getting disbanded.


    After that?


    I didn¡¯t care to think about it right now. Roxy had warned me that the scheduled calendar events were just the start, and my regular patrols weren¡¯t on there yet. That said, roving around the streets at night looking for thugs and minor villains to beat up sounded like good exercise.


    Perhaps I did have a penchant for getting myself into trouble.


    ¡°Props to Clara,¡± Belle said, squinting her eyes at the forward display. ¡°I feel like we are bigshots riding around in this.¡±


    We dwarfed the civilian cars as we rolled through the warehouse district. Several pulled off to the side, heads hanging out the windows, mouths agape. A few took photos, I was sure, and I wondered if anyone had reported us to the police. Even Meteor didn¡¯t look like the type of transport a hero would use. Imposing and unapologetic, we ran red lights and took no detour from the most efficient route.


    A little more to the east, and we arrived at the destination. Construction sites littered the area. Half-built structures and yards filled with timber and metal beams. I parked Meteor up beside a large mound of some manner of construction sand, our route of entry to the sewers just ahead.


    The maintenance tunnel jutted out from the wall of part of the construction yard. Mostly circular, with a large slatted grate covering the entrance. Just to the side, several vagrants stood around a flaming barrel to keep warm, although our sudden appearance had them focused our way.


    [Alright, everyone. Make sure you have everything and keep things professional until we are in the tunnels. Assume eyes are on us at all times.]


    Acknowledgement was given, and they all shuffled around, checking their gear and readying for this shitshow to get under way finally. Once they had given me confirmation, I hit the disembark button.


    The slanted rear panel at the back of Meteor flapped open, hitting the ground to act as a ramp for us to exit. We did so, Rockslide and Captain Snaps first, followed by Little Wren. Belle was next, and then finally¡ªand definitely most importantly¡ªGunquake.


    I hit the button for the back of the vehicle to close and sent through confirmation to Clara.


    //Clara: Piloting Meteor to exit area.


    //Clara: Comms paused during travel.


    //Gunquake: Understood.


    She had been marginally confident that she could watch us and drive the vehicle at the same time. As she was normally entirely confident in everything she did, that meant it was a no go. We could survive five minutes without her guidance, I was sure.


    Meteor warmed up, and jerked forward, turning back to the road to head to the other area. No doubt we¡¯d generate some confusion with the armored carrier sitting outside of a busy mall, even at this time at night. I trusted the League to intervene and quash any questions or concerns from the general public.


    I glanced over at the group of homeless people, and most of them were either scurrying away or had already vanished upon our arrival. A few remained in the shadows, either too tired or unbothered by us, but it looked as though there was no need for me to give them any reassurance over who we were.


    [Care to do us the honors, Rockslide?]


    ¡°On it.¡± She gave me a nod and stepped over to the maintenance grate, cracking her knuckles - as if that had any bearing on her ability to open it up for us. It was a little performative action while we were out in the open world, just in case the League had cameras on it. They¡¯d be foolish not to.


    The super threaded her fingers in between some of the slats, and after making a show of flexing her muscles out, she pulled the cover from the settings. A metallic twang echoed around the empty construction area, immediately dwarfed by the louder sound of her placing it on the ground. It was a good thing we were going through the entrance that was further away.


    I gave her a nod of thanks. The tunnel itself was a decent diameter - around thirteen or so feet. A flat, stone floor that was more reddish in color than the gray-green curved walls. A singular light flickered into life by the entrance, but it hardly made a dent in the darkness further in.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    [Standard formation. Lights on.]


    While our adventures in the wastes had been a little rough around the edges, I wanted to run our hero team with a little more finesse. That wasn¡¯t a knock on Roxy or her experience, and she knew that. The League didn¡¯t really give much formal training when it came to herding oddball personalities, but that was probably by intention. A little freedom to be inefficient made managing the ranking ladder and mission distribution easier. The slight suggestion that we could manipulate that to our advantage had just earned me a tired glare from Roxy.


    She took lead. The hardiest of us and more suited to meeting our troubles head on. I was next, slightly behind her and to the right so that I could fire forward while using her as cover. Ren and Belle were in the back, providing ranged assistance and keeping a keen eye on our rear. Roy hovered between us, his speed making him perfect to assist any one of us when required. If we were outdoors it would be a different arrangement.


    Close quarters were my favorite terrain to fight in, but we weren¡¯t all built for it.


    Into the darkness, our own flashlights switched on. A feed in my eyes brought up a rough map of the sewer system. Destination was almost a mile in, with only a handful of turns. The smell of stale air made it through my re-breather, but there was nothing worse¡­ yet. Even with Roxy shining her light down the tunnel, the space extended on further than we could see.


    ¡°Anyone claustrophobic?¡± Roy asked, mostly murmuring to himself.


    Belle put her hand on my shoulder. ¡°How about every time I save your ass tonight, you owe me a bottle of rum?¡±


    [You¡¯re on. If that total ends up being zero, then you owe me an afternoon of training.]


    Roxy glanced back over her shoulder. ¡°Not fishing for dates while on the clock I hope, Gunquake?¡±


    [Gross. No offense, Belle.]


    ¡°None taken, dweeb.¡±


    We were killing time until Clara got back online. A little banter helped settled our nerves, and the super knew well enough that the sort of training I was hinting at was the literal sense. Belle was the magic-user of the group, and my shotgun hungered for new and inventive ammunition types.


    Part of the drone behind me extended with a whirr and then clicked over my shoulder. The static camera the techie had mentioned started recording.


    //Clara: Meteor parked. I am back with you all, confirm ready status.


    //Captain Snaps: Ready.


    //Little Wren: Ready.


    //Gunquake: Ready.


    //Rockslide: Ready.


    //Belle: Ready.


    //Clara: Camera monitoring online. Proceed.


    I gave Roxy a nod, and she grunted. Time to scout through these underground passageways for the monsters created by the villain. She led the way, and we followed in formation. The residual ambient light from the outside world faded away, leaving only the wide beams of our chest-mounted flashlights to illuminate the tunnel. It was in surprisingly good condition, if not a little dusty.


    Five minutes of nothing but tense walking, and we came out to a junction. Roxy and I stepped out into the small joining space, back to back. Nothing but darkness in either direction. Map said we needed to turn left, so after Ren stepped in to keep an eye on the right, I turned to follow the super.


    My feet felt uncomfortable in my boots. No unwanted delirium in my skull, but there was the hint that it was only a matter of time. Too late to bail now, anyway. Our tunnel curved slightly to the right to point back toward the north side of our sector. There was the occasional light affixed to the wall, but the bulbs were off. Odd. So far, there had been three emergency boxes - which had basic tools and a way of communicating somewhere on the surface.


    I was about to vocalize the fact that this didn¡¯t feel much like a how I expected a sewer system to look, before the tunnel opened up slightly.


    The center of the floor gradually dipped down to form a channel two feet wide. Some grime covering the base of this trench, but nothing¡­ fresh. As much as that was the incorrect descriptor for anything we¡¯d find down here.


    ¡°It begins,¡± Ren complained. She pulled part of her cloak up to cover her lower face. Since her sense tended to be better than the rest of ours, I assumed that things would get worse soon enough.


    [We¡¯re nearing the edges of the villain¡¯s lair, so be cautious. Map shows many side passages up ahead that would be easy ambush points.]


    We split onto either side of the trench as it widened to three feet. From my basic understanding, this tunnel was mostly for overflow to avoid flooding, and the actual ¡®wet¡¯ sewer section was coming up ahead. Of course, I didn¡¯t know how my own house had working plumbing, so this was all a stab in the dark based on the information Clara had given to me.


    Roxy paused in place, and the rest of us followed suit. Weaponry up and eyes scouring ahead.


    ¡°Part of the wall here is broken,¡± she said. ¡°On both sides.¡±


    I brought a clear tube out from one of my side pouches. It crackled in my hand as I bent it as the internal parts that were holding chemicals in place mixed, creating a bright glow. I threw it further down the tunnel as it lit up fully, the glow-stick bouncing along the right-hand path. It stopped, momentum killed by some broken stone.


    [Proceed with caution.]


    The area ahead had been dug out. Clearly done with rough tools and inefficiency. As we got closer, it came into better view. The tunnel widened into a loosely circular chamber. One exit straight ahead, and one to the left.


    Ren crouched down and ran her fingers across one of the split bricks. ¡°Claw marks. Wider paws than any domestic animal I know of.¡±


    [Any tracks?]


    She tilted her head to the side, the blue of her goggles moving around the room slowly. ¡°This doesn¡¯t seem to be a place frequented often. There is rubble missing, so this may have been mined for another purpose.¡±


    Captain tapped on the broken wall near him. ¡°Looks like they were after wiring or something.¡±


    I stepped over to him, allowing my camera to get a better view of what he had found. From a brief glance, I couldn¡¯t tell whether it had just been destroyed alongside the rest of the stone, or actually broken into for a certain purpose. Several thick cables had been torn, the wiring within now frayed and unconnected to anything. A space on the rock was light colored, as if a control panel or similar had been removed.


    //Clara: Some of it is the connectors for the lighting and emergency phones.


    //Clara: There is possibly some larger machinery deeper in.


    //Clara: For pumping or filtering the water.


    [Intentional sabotage, or gathering things for the villain¡¯s machinations?]


    //Clara: Let¡¯s assume the latter for now.


    Breaking the lights might dissuade city workers from venturing too far, especially if the League knew of the potential danger down here. Otherwise, self-sabotage didn¡¯t seem that helpful.


    [Keep an eye out for traps or further signs of theft.]


    We reconvened and went out of the left exit, as that was the quickest route to our target. After a few feet, the tunnel was no longer damaged. I was wary of finding these nests¡­ and had also started coming to the realization that I had imagined the changed animals as being much smaller, and they might be more of a threat.


    That said¡­ we had battled countless mutants and nigh-invulnerable ancient robot suits. Even if the danger level was higher than I first thought, we were the Natural Disasters. The five of us working together would be fine.


    ¡°Feels colder down here now,¡± Roxy murmured from the front.


    I shivered involuntarily, a sudden bout of vertigo clinging to the edge of my balance. The barrel of my shotgun scraped noisily against the wall as I held it out to keep myself steady. I stood still as the others all looked at me.


    [Just some brief vertigo. I am fine.]


    Roxy¡¯s eyes were practically glowing in the dark, and she narrowed them at me. ¡°Dubs¡­¡±


    [I will keep you updated and take a step back if necessary.]


    We hadn¡¯t even had a whiff of combat yet, and my legs were starting to become a drain on my mind. I wiped the stone dust off of the end of the barrel and double checked my gear hadn¡¯t moved out of place. Everything was great.


    Our formation continued, and the smell of sewage increased by the minute. The next two emergency boxes had been torn from the walls. The central dip of the tunnels was damper now, threatening us with the inevitable. Even our footsteps seemed to slow as we reached the next part of the Map.


    A four-way intersection, if it could be called that. Our overflow tunnel ended with a flat edge of concrete acting as a dam to prevent the flowing sludge beyond from coming out way. While my re-breather did a fine job of filtering out the worst of the smells, there was still a slightly unpleasant tang to the air.


    The flow of filth ran from the west and north tunnels, joining to create a river that ran to the east. Several complaints rose from the ranks, as the walkable pathways looked thinner to the north - our intended route.


    ¡°First person to fall in the shit gets the first round of drinks later,¡± Roxy said.


    Clara had said my tech was relatively waterproof, but I didn¡¯t intend to get soaked through with fecal matter and foul water. In fact, I would do everything possible to avoid that fate. A twinge in my brain told me that the thinner my sanity got, the less likely I¡¯d be staying safe and dry.


    [Let¡¯s just get through this nice and quick. The sooner we get the villain, the sooner we can go home.]


    We should be so lucky. My suggestion was met with no resistance, those without a gas-mask having a worse time with the stench down here. According to the map, we should reach an area closer to a purifier which would be less oppressive with the constant stench.


    ¡°Music to my ears,¡± Roy agreed. ¡°Let¡¯s get over these channels nice and careful¡­ I¡¯m not sure how well I¡¯m grounded.¡±


    //Clara: I won¡¯t dignify that with an answer.


    Reluctantly, we started to make our way to the edges of the junction. Roxy stepped across on the left side with no issue, followed by a more hesitant Captain. I paused to help Belle across first, partially to be useful, but also having someone on either side of me reduced the chance of my brain tipping me into the drink.


    I stepped across without issue, pressing my back gently against the curved wall so as to not crush the drone.


    Ren, however, paused in place.


    The rest of us froze in our positions by instinct, as we watched the elf bring a finger up to her lips. Five seconds past before she slowly turned her head toward the eastern tunnel.


    [Scout?]


    She shook her head and drew her bow ready. ¡°No. A pack.¡±

 125 - One Bottle, One Round

    The first sound that we heard was a howl coming from the western tunnel. Wolf-like, but pained. Angry. The extended cry echoed around us as we positioned ourselves to respond to the threat.


    ¡°Awful place to fight,¡± Roxy complained, trying to find better footing on her edge of concrete.


    With the paths split by the flowing sewage and moving room hindered by the curvature of the tunnel walls, we didn¡¯t have much freedom to dance about. Blocking the river of sludge would cause problems further down the line, and retreating to the clearer southern path left us off-guard for the imminent attack.


    A second howl followed the first, this one higher pitched. Ren had said there was a pack, so whatever creatures had sniffed us out were traveling in their own group. The elf pulled up an arrow at the ready, aiming toward the noise.


    Third and then fourth scream called out in quick succession, closer. The chorus of yells echoed around us, blotting out any other sound lower on the register. I couldn¡¯t even hear my chamber clack back and forth as I loaded in a different shell.


    But¡­ that was the point.


    The elf let off her arrow as the realization hit me, but we were all focused on the magic projectile as it vanished into the darkness. A pained cry joined the multiple howls, but I turned away from the approaching carnage.


    [Ambush. Roxy, Ren - west. Belle, Roy - north.]


    I turned to the eastern tunnel behind me. Nothing but darkness that my flashlight couldn¡¯t pierce. Overcharge crackled along my shotgun as I lifted it up. With a jolt of energy, I fired an Incendiary shot down the tunnel. It flew down like a firework, illuminating a small patch around itself before finally exploding.


    The flames engulfed a large figure, casting bright light around the previously unseen target. Several other nightmare-inducing monsters crawled behind it - one of them spider-like and moving across the upper curve of the walls.


    They were using the screaming to deafen and disorientate us so that the others could sneak up and catch us unaware.


    I glanced behind me briefly and saw Belle fire off a shard of green energy down the northern tunnel, probably intending to seek out potential ambushers in the same way I had. I couldn¡¯t see that direction to know if she was successful or not, but I had Clara sending information directly through my eyes, like a news feed.


    Empty cartridge bounced straight into the flowing sewer water as I loaded in a Tazer shot and fired it at the mutant spider. The arcing electricity stunned it, but it remained in place. I gripped at the wall with my left hand as it felt as if the whole tunnel system was tilting up into the air - but it was just my inner ear playing up.


    Ren had killed two, with three known targets moving in close to Roxy. Belle¡¯s attack had struck an enlarged bull, causing it to fall and be a partial blockage for any monsters behind it. I racked the chamber and was thankful for the information. Now that we each had a camera, and Clara also had eyes behind me, I felt more comfortable about focusing on the problem before me.


    I ran Reflex through my synapses, causing my heightened senses to burn through my loaded magazine at a faster rate. Six steel balls burst through the gathered mass of mutated animals before cracking against the walls or falling into the muck. I loaded a seventh just as the empowering ability sank away. A wave of exhaustion ran over me. Shotgun fired, bursting the bulbous brain of another creature.


    My STAR scanned down the partially lit tunnel, the fur of the burning creature flickering and casting moving shadows along the walls. Several tags saying ¡®deceased¡¯ popped up around the mass of broken and bloodied monsters. No current signs of life. I turned back to the rest of the fighting.


    Roxy slammed the wolf-like creature into the wall opposite, throwing it like a doll. It died with a heavy crack, its bones obliterated from the impact. Further down was a similar looking monster, hunched over and trying to back away, realizing that their ambush had failed. It was growling and baring long fangs, as well as sporting an arrow in its shoulder. A second arrow zipped down the tunnel and struck it straight between the eyes.


    To the north, there was a brief flash of bright alternating blue and white light before Roy slid back into position. His gloves were steaming slightly, and the smell of burned flesh told me he was probably able to get through most of the stuck ambushers with little issue.


    //Clara: Targets appear neutralized.


    //Clara: Maintain caution.


    I nodded and sighed. The problem had been dealt with rather easily, but it would have only taken a simple mistake for it to have gone much worse. Now I was already lagging behind.


    ¡°Somebody tell me that was all the pets Hydra had and it¡¯ll be smooth sailing from now on,¡± Roy said.


    Nobody dared. A few reluctant groans were the only response, our attentions turning to the corpses of what we had just destroyed.


    ¡°I was expecting¡­ smaller.¡± Roxy hopped over the river to get a better look at the one she had pulped. ¡°Mutated domestic pets, not¡­ fully fledged monsters.¡±


    Ren kept an eye on the eastern passage as we went to join the super. She was right. This didn¡¯t look like someone¡¯s lost dog whatsoever. Much closer to a werewolf, but wrong in ways. An impressionist version of the fabled creature. Still as violent and well-equipped to tear through the unexpecting, but this was a much bigger threat that the brief had let on.


    [My concern is this is just the first wave. The chaff to overwhelm us, or dissuade intruders.]


    ¡°My concern is that you looked like you were going to pass out,¡± Belle interjected. ¡°Do I need to babysit you already?¡±


    I rolled my eyes. Not because she was wrong, but because I wanted to be right. I wanted to be alright. Still, I had nothing to prove to them.


    [At this stage, I am fine. Should we find ourselves constantly ambushed or having to fight, then I will hand leadership over to Rockslide and take a back seat.]


    //Clara: Parameters are slightly worrying, but workable.


    //Clara: I agree with Gunquake¡¯s proposition.


    Belle nodded. ¡°Good enough for me. Bonus points for catching the ambush before it happened, though.¡±


    ¡°Trouble with having good hearing is that it is easy to overwhelm.¡± Ren pulled a face and turned back to the corridor she was watching.


    ¡°Yeah, good job, Dubs.¡± Roxy looked up from the mashed corpse and smiled. ¡°Quick on the organization and splitting powers. Kept your cool.¡±


    [Save the glazing for the post-mission party. There¡¯s a good chance our presence and intentions are known by the villain now. We¡¯re switching to the spearhead formation going forward.]


    Roxy looked like she was going to snap back, but bit her tongue. It was easy to slip into the casual familiarity we all had as friends, but I had to focus on business while we were working. She knew well enough that falling in line would keep the rest of the cats sufficiently herded, so did as I asked.


    Spearhead was the super and Belle at the front. Her strength combined with the shielding powers made her able to weather any attack. I would be in the middle to offer support to either the front pair, or the back - who were mostly keeping an eye on our six, stopping any issues before they could disrupt Roxy¡¯s warpath.


    Of course, I mostly called for this formation because me being in the center was safer for my health. Roy could catch me if I fell, and the super could protect me from anything ahead with Belle¡¯s assistance. Whether they understood that this was my thinking or not, they didn¡¯t say anything. Without question, we arranged ourselves on either side of the sewage.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Roxy, me, and Ren on the left. Belle and Roy on the right. Not ideal, but hopefully temporary. While we walked, I thumbed in some fresh cartridges to my selectloader to keep it topped up.


    I had considered running with Nerve shot alone, but had decided it was too risky. The changed animals weren¡¯t sapient, and might be resistant to believing the imagined damaged the shells injected. Killing them outright with the solid steels spheres was a mercy. A thought solidified as we passed the corpses of the wolf pack.


    Malformed body proportions. They looked diseased or rabid. Crimes aside, what the villain was doing was morally reprehensible. Repulsive. I wondered how much trouble I would get in for killing the villain outright.


    //Dubs: Are you able to read my thoughts?


    //Clara: No, Gunquake.


    //Clara: To do that requires certain implants and additional cybernetics.


    //Clara: I do not recommend that, as it introduces tech weaknesses to a very human part of you.


    //Dubs: Okay.


    //Dubs: I was thinking about murder.


    The camera peeking over my left shoulder twisted, jabbing me in the side of the neck as if the techie was there to prod me in annoyance. I probably should keep things together after being so stoic with the team.


    [There¡¯s a service room coming up on the right. We¡¯ll pause there to catch our breath.]


    I wasn¡¯t keen on taking a break, but it would help us all shake off any lingering nerves from the ambush. We had gotten through it with ease, but I could feel the tension eroding at the others - paranoia keeping them on edge. Not me, though. I was fine.


    Our torches lit up the opening on the right, the wall fading back to reveal a flat platform that led to a closed door. No sign of it being tampered with, or any of that rough digging again.


    The three of us on the left side waited on this part of the flowing muck while the other two walked out onto the flat area. It was a good twenty feet long and twelve deep, probably for storage or maintenance workers to fiddle with parts.


    ¡°Leaders first,¡± Roxy said, with only some minor sedition in her tone.


    I narrowed my eyes, mentally planning who I was going to chew out for their mistakes once we got to debriefing. There was a sex joke in there that I was too tired to grasp hold of, much like my boot on the opposite side of the wide channel. I slipped slightly after my jump, wavering on the edge before Belle grabbed hold of my sleeve to keep me vertical.


    ¡°That counts,¡± she said. ¡°One bottle, so far.¡±


    [Thank you.]


    As much as I had been hoping to win and get her help in training, I was glad to avoid the embarrassment of falling into the slop. Before she had stepped in, I had almost activated my legs. That would have done nothing but blown the boots off of my feet and sprayed everyone else with shitty water. Amusing, but unhelpful.


    Roxy glared at me as she hopped across, while the Captain was waiting with his arms crossed.


    ¡°Say, Belle¡­ you¡¯d never use your powers to make us look silly, would you?¡±


    She raised an eyebrow as she looked over at him. ¡°Absolutely not. While minor mischief might sound delightful, His powers are¡­ not an exact science. You¡¯ve seen the damage I¡¯ve inadvertently caused to our enemies.¡±


    The accidents that her ¡®acts of god¡¯ magic caused ranged from small inconveniences to straight up death. As much as her patron seemed content to weave matters to our benefit, even Belle herself didn¡¯t trust Him to not injure us if it came to it.


    ¡°Guess you¡¯re just clumsy then, Dubs,¡± he replied, giving me a shrug.


    [I¡¯m certainly¡­ something.]


    I had already moved on from that conversation. Part of me had slid into old habits. Get in, secure the kill, bleed out on the way home. I¡¯d cut that to-do list short - right before the killing part - and let the others ad-lib the rest. Right now, I wanted to see if this room offered anything to assist our mission.


    [Door.]


    Roxy took a few steps forward and kicked out, blowing the door straight off the hinges and into the room beyond. Through the brief cloud of dust, I fired a Nerve shot. After several seconds of silence, there didn¡¯t appear to be anything untoward waiting for us.


    Belle hit the super with a shield, and Roxy stepped into the room.


    ¡°Mostly junk and shit,¡± her voice came from within. ¡°I mean - area secured.¡±


    I wondered if Clara was prompting her to fall in line, or she was just remembering we were on the clock. All things told, I preferred our more casual spates of violence in the wastes. Being the leader was¡­ fine. I was lucky the others respected and trusted me, otherwise this would be miserable.


    While the others watching the tunnels, I joined the super in the small room. She hadn¡¯t been sugarcoating her report. A few shelving units full of rusted tools. Chair and desk with a soldering kit covered in dust. On the wall above it was a calendar months out of date, above the grid showing the weeks the picture of a woman working on a car wearing way less safety gear than was optimal was fading away.


    I pulled a cord and a lightbulb flickered into reluctant illumination. Beside it, a map of the sewer system. Tilting my head, it looked the same as the one I had in my STAR¡­ aside from two small points. I pointed a finger at a junction that someone had drawn a cross through.


    [We are meant to pass through here, but someone has marked it as inaccessible.]


    ¡°Huh?¡± Roxy stepped up beside me after glaring at the dusty items. ¡°That could be over a year old, though. I have no idea when the last maintenance team was down here.¡±


    //Clara: About a month before the first monster sightings.


    //Clara: Which was three weeks ago.


    This room looked a lot older than two months since its last use.


    ¡°If it is blocked, then that means rerouting through this passage.¡± She ran her finger along the tunnels. ¡°Which is a detour, but better than having to double-back.¡±


    [Do you think it would have been better to enter from the closer route?]


    Her eyes lingered on me for a few seconds, before checking nobody was right by the door eavesdropping. ¡°Honestly? No,¡± she whispered. ¡°Missions are often not always about capturing the villain. You¡¯re doing well.¡±


    I nodded. Of course, everything had to be a trial, or training for something else. The longer route gave the team more time to experience fighting crime alongside each other under my leadership. Limit testing.


    [This second point is near where Hydra is supposed to be. ¡®Dangerous gases¡¯.]


    ¡°In my opinion, that is either a ruse created by the mad doc to keep people away, or related to his experiments or work there.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°Brief didn¡¯t mention anything of it, so it¡¯s either well contained or the danger has passed.¡±


    It was almost a shame I had taken her position in the team. I enjoyed seeing her in her element, and the times she was actually into the job, she was efficient and savvy. As much as she leaned into the muscle-head trope, her experience couldn¡¯t help but leak out when it was necessary.


    [Understood. We¡¯ll head to the detour and be wary of any gas as we approach the lair. Unfortunately, I am the only one well-equipped to deal with that.]


    //Clara: Added to the shopping list.


    //Roxy: Make sure you read my notes on that¡­


    //Clara: Already taken into account, sister.


    I raised an eyebrow, but didn¡¯t seek an answer. The fact that she had said it in the chat of just us three made me think I should be in the loop, but I wasn¡¯t. Minutes were burning away.


    [Get everyone ready to move out.]


    She gave me a firm nod, biting her tongue once again. As she left, I scooped a few things from the shelves into one of my pouches. Rusty nails. A screwdriver. Some wire bundle that looked as though it had spent too long submerged in water.


    Stepping out with my treasures secured, the team was waiting for me to give the word to continue. It itched at old memories, which was probably half the reason I felt stifled down here. A test of my leadership was nothing. Fighting monsters and subduing a villain? Hardly an issue.


    But getting over the feeling history was repeating itself, as I led a squad more loyal to me than their superiors¡­ that was the actual test.


    Self-imposed, probably. The League were tight-lipped on what they really knew about me, but there was a good reason the Directors were divided in how to handle me. At this stage, I wasn¡¯t sure if it was my supporters or the detractors that would end up with egg on their face in the long run.


    Well, probably something a lot more violent than egg.


    We resumed our travel down the passages. The short pause had been enough for the group to shake off any lingering nerves over the potential beasts hiding in the shadows. Roy had even had time to try to weasel in on Belle¡¯s wager with me in an attempt to win back the credits he had lost to Roxy.


    At the junction, we took the turning rather than going toward the potential blockage. Clara had updated my map with the new route. It was a longer walk, which was¡­ bad. Nobody would disagree that I had done well in even getting this far, but my brain was checking out. A huge leap in improvement over yesterday, but still not really built for running missions.


    Or running in general.


    ¡°Looks like dry land ahead,¡± Roxy called from the front.


    We each leaned to see, which mostly just resulted in our flashlights illuminating each other and not the way ahead. The super was right, however. The sewer channel ended up with a knee-high wall, a pipe from the surface coming down the left side and filling the foul river. Bubbles popped around the exit where fresh filth started this stream.


    [Let¡¯s get over to the right side, one by one.]


    I wanted to gather my strength up, so that I didn¡¯t look like an idiot again. A glance toward Ren at the back, and her focus was back down the tunnel.


    [Are we being followed?]


    She didn¡¯t answer at first, but tilted her head back to look at me. Her blue-lensed goggles shimmered from our flashlights. ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t tell. We should be, but I can¡¯t hear anything.¡±


    I raised my shotgun up and fired a Nerve shot down the tunnel. The fragments peppered the walls, covering most of the area in that direction into the darkness. Other than the sound of the pipe beside us flowing, silence followed.


    ¡°Even still¡­ I¡¯ll stay alert.¡±


    I nodded and gestured for her to jump over first. Roxy was already on the higher walkway and lending a hand to Roy. As much as I wasn¡¯t the best person to be last, I wanted them to be safe. Empty cartridge bounced off the wall beside me and landed in the river, as I loaded in a High Explosive shot.


    ¡°Are you coming, Dubs?¡±


    Nothing had changed downstream, despite my trigger finger begging for it. I glanced back, and they were all up there now, Belle in the process being pulled up. Fine. I lowered my weapon and backed up against the curved wall to give myself a healthy step before leaping over.


    I cooled my mind and readied myself. It was only a few feet - I could make that easily. Under the watchful eyes of my team, I stepped and jumped across. Easily enough power behind the jump, I¡¯d accurately land straight onto the opposite ledge.


    Or would have, if a hand didn¡¯t burst up from the sewage stream and catch my leg mid-air.

 126 - Head Games

    It was quite the surprise. Rather clever, in fact. Not that I had much time to appreciate that the sewer channel by the pipe had been dug out deeper to house whatever creature had grabbed me.


    Instead, my vision went blank, obscured as I became submerged in the filth. I lashed out with my feet, but failed to connect with anything and the monster kept a tight grip on me. Even if my shotgun functioned down here, without being able to see my target meant there was a chance I¡¯d fire in the wrong direction, missing or even hitting one of my squad.


    I couldn¡¯t even tell how far I had been dragged beneath the surface. Thankful that my goggles were water-tight, I still couldn¡¯t see anything. My left hand lagged through the thick sewage, before grabbing at a Flash grenade, pulling and activating it.


    The flash struggled to burn through the dense water, but it did what I wanted it to. A brief silhouette of the surroundings above the surface. Enough to tell how I was orientated. My left arm raised up, and I fired the grappling hook. Powerful enough to break the surface and strike the ceiling. The line went taught and started to pull me up against the dragging grasp of the monster.


    Angered at their meal getting away, they rose up to bite my leg.


    Their first, and last, mistake. As their sharp teeth ground against the thick metal of my cybernetics, my left foot came around, finding purchase on their shoulder. Overcharge burned down and exploded out the base of my foot, splintering their arm from the rest of their body.


    The tension released, and I was pulled upward. My lungs burned as several seconds passed before I broke the surface.


    Roxy and the others were ready to guide me onto the floor, and I was dragged to safety on the higher platform. Sewage ran from me, my gear soaked through. Barrel of my gun arm leaked into a puddle on the ground. No cuts to get infected, thankfully.


    Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t breathe.


    Despite being mostly waterproof, the filters of my re-breather were stuck full of slime and worse. If I tried to force it, then I¡¯d risk of breaking them - allowing the sewage to go straight into my lungs. Something that would have dire circumstances. Drowning on dry land.


    The group had been shouting, asking if I was okay, but my vision was already fading. Spotty. Lungs convulsing as they were desperate for air. Roxy said that we had to remove my gas-mask, probably under instruction from Clara.


    It would take too long.


    I waved them back with my left hand, creating some space. As my head throbbed with pain, a sick feeling rolling around my insides, I turned the end of my shotgun up. Pointed it beneath my chin.


    ¡°Dubs!¡±


    Click. I pulled the trigger.


    The Water shot burst and expanded, power-washing most of the filth from my face. Liquid pulsed up through my re-breather, watering down the sludge enough to break it free. I leaned over and faux-vomited. Air made it into my lungs as the filters struggled to shake off the last of the dirt.


    [Just give me a moment. Roxy, you are now in charge of leading the mission.]


    In all the turmoil, I forgot that I could still speak even if I couldn¡¯t breathe. Belle had put her healing on me, but I wasn¡¯t really hurt. At risk of passing out and sliding away from sanity, sure. If that had to happen to one of us, I might have been the better target.


    ¡°Speak to me, Dubs. Are you injured?¡± The super had kneeled down in front of me, but at a distance where she wasn¡¯t in range to get sprayed by the sewage that ran off of my outfit.


    [I am covered with shit and grime. It is not ideal.]


    ¡°But are you injured?¡±


    Slowly, I shook my head. The re-breather was all but clear now, although it would need a deep clean later. Shotgun was functional. I¡¯d shredded one of my boots away by kicking the monster, and my trousers were spit where it had bitten me.


    ¡°Shame none of us have rain powers,¡± Ren said dryly. The elf had her cloak wrapped around her face, but the disgust was clear. ¡°Best we could do is dry you off.¡±


    That seemed preferable to being soaked and miserable for the rest of the mission. The way they intended to do it, however, was¡­ inventive. I couldn¡¯t fault them for the idea, and would have probably been impressed if I didn¡¯t feel like a corpse.


    Roxy turned her arms into lava, and then Ren blasted her from behind with a continuous gust of wind. The heated air pelted me like a giant hairdryer. Against the wall, I slowly rotated as I became dry. After a full rotation, they stopped, and I slumped slightly in resignation.


    ¡°Remember these?¡± the super asked, stepping over to me. In her hand, she held a round button.


    I did remember. The anti-odor device she had stuck on me when we had that first house party and I had met this bunch of weirdos. How different we all were back then.


    [History repeats, hmm?]


    ¡°She gave me a pack of ten of them. The plan was to use one each when we left the sewers and had to face the public. Of course, she gave extra just in case.¡±


    One of us was bound to fall in. It was inevitable. I looked over at the flowing river below us. The monster might not be dead, but after losing an arm, it didn¡¯t seem too interested in climbing out and having a second go.


    [The area below that section had been dug out to make it deeper. My assumption is that the blockade down the other route is due to excavated rock.]


    I stood in place as the super applied the round patch. My senses were completely shot, so I couldn¡¯t smell anything at all, anyway.


    //Clara: I¡¯ve added a miniature oxygen tank and an emergency flush to mod to your re-breather.


    //Clara: It already has a hydrophobic and self-cleaning coating throughout the piping.


    //Clara: Otherwise you would have choked on your own blood a few times in the past.


    //Dubs: Okay.


    ¡°Alright, Belle. Make sure Dubs doesn¡¯t break his head on anything or loses his senses.¡± Roxy put her hands on her hips and addressed the troops. ¡°A little shit-water won¡¯t stop the best upcoming hero team currently in Goldarch, so let¡¯s keep up the pace.¡±


    //Clara: There¡¯s usually a point where a rebranded hero will dissociate from their new persona.


    //Clara: They¡¯ll feel they are just in fancy dress, and imposter syndrome takes control.


    //Clara: Rockslide will keep them on track while you recover.


    //Clara: I¡¯m getting lots of¡­ information that any more stress will negatively affect you.


    //Clara: Luckily the drone didn¡¯t receive any permanent damage from our quick swim.


    //Clara: But both of you will need to be stripped down and scrubbed clean later, Gunquake.


    //Clara: Thoroughly.


    I appreciated her trying, but I didn¡¯t have any energy to engage with her playful jabs. Not that she was wrong about the maintenance required. Both my gun, legs, and re-breather needed opening up to make sure I didn¡¯t have filth lurking in any gaps. It wouldn¡¯t be an attractive or amusing process for either of us.


    Belle sidled up next to me. ¡°I can only help you as much as you let me. I¡¯m sure you feel pretty sorry for yourself right now, but be open and honest.¡±


    With a sigh, I stretched my back out and stood up straight. Why did everyone have to be reasonable and on my do-not-murder list?


    [I almost choked to death on liquified shit. I may be a little grumpy for a while, but I¡¯m glad you were all around to assist me.]


    She pulled a face. ¡°Roxy was very close to jumping in after you. I¡¯m sorry we didn¡¯t have an immediate response to save you.¡±


    [Not a grudge I hold. Things worked out.]


    It was the truth. None of them would be able to see in the sewage, and were much more likely to get infections or an illness from being submerged in it. The ambush had turned a minor inconvenience into a potential death pit, and the team hesitating was the right call at that moment.


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    If we had left the elf as the last one to cross as intended, things would be much different right now. That was often how trouble ended up - a dice roll of luck and circumstance. Dancing around the what-ifs left you as exhausted on your legs as I was right now.


    I was at least glad that the next section of our travel via this detour was offset from any of the sewer channels. Large pipes ran along the walls on either side of this next passage. Sewage, clean water, and possibly electricity ran through them. Maybe. It was just a guess. We had settled into the ¡®protect Dubs¡¯ formation, which had Roxy at the front, and Ren and the Captain at the back to keep me in the middle.


    A fever was creeping in at the edges of my brain, making my head feel warm. I was tired and reconsidered the bravado that pushed me to accept this mission so soon into my recovery. Stims trickled into my system through my neck, briefly relaxing the aches around my body. The worst thing was that I hadn¡¯t been injured really, but the exertion had left a large dent in my stamina.


    ¡°Did you pack spare boots?¡± Belle asked. ¡°Although I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll have time to change before seeing the public.¡±


    [If I know Clara, then we did, and we will.]


    //Clara: Correct on both accounts.


    The shielder smiled. ¡°Color me impressed, as always. Even though you lost the bet and owe us the first round of drinks, I would like to take you up on that training. He has been keen to see me wield His influence, and you having Dispel is handy.¡±


    [As soon as I am recovered enough, we¡¯ll pencil that in.]


    I may grow to detest having a calendar, but I also had more of an excuse to remember which day of the week it was. Roxy had her birthday coming up in a few weeks, and a visit to her parents¡¯ was still on the table. That had been something easy to agree to at the time, but the more real it became, the odder it felt.


    Or that could just be the lightheadedness.


    [Pause a second.]


    We stopped as I put my hand on the nearby pipe and hunched over slightly. A dizzy feeling swirled around my head and my stomach clenched as if it wanted to throw up. I could not, and would not. Belle had her arm looped under my gun-arm to help keep me standing.


    Eventually, I took a couple deep breaths, and I was good enough to move.


    [Thank you.]


    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡± She pulled a face and brushed her arm where some flaked sewage had rubbed off of me. ¡°Although, I think I¡¯ll pass on any future sewer mission.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, fuck this,¡± Roxy agreed from the front.


    The pipelines ran on for a while longer before taking a left turn. This was the edges of the suspected lair now. One of the clues was the working lighting running down the walls. With a signal from the super, we switched off our flashlights. I checked my map, but all I could think about was how inefficient this was.


    Roxy could just break straight through the streets above the right place and dropped down onto the villain in seconds. It might take a while to repair, but it was stimulating the economy, or something. That wasn¡¯t¡­ exactly my expertise.


    ¡°More claw marks,¡± Ren noted.


    I looked down at the floor past my broken boot and could see the light marks scratched through the concrete. It annoyed me that we didn¡¯t know how many monsters lived down here, or if the villain had gotten wind of our arrival and ran off.


    My minor amount of experience told me that the mad doctor wouldn¡¯t want to abandon his projects. When your life work was on the line, you acted irrationally. That played into our hands, but also meant he would be desperate when accosted. I fully expected any remaining abomination to come out of the woodwork to defend him.


    A little bloodletting sounded fun.


    In a perfectly sane and rational way, of course. My brow furrowed, and I narrowed my eyes at my companions to make sure that I was just thinking this and not speaking it out loud. Seemed fine, so far. You had to be careful with your squadmates, just in case you had conflicted views on something and needed to murder each other to hash it out. Even more awkward when they were all your brothers, but boys would be boys.


    Or corpses.


    I winced and tensed up as my brain clicked almost audibly, switching to thinking about Warlock. The kitten, not the super soldier that he was named after. Any growing animosity, twisting descent into potential violence, or hard-fought reflections from the past melted away into soft comfort. I had heard of therapy animals, but there was something almost magical about the cat.


    There was the chance the super had gotten something more than just a kitten.


    My focused glare aimed at the back of her head didn¡¯t melt the truth away, so I gave up on that. Any imagined ire was just burning away my remaining energy, even I could see that. I opened and closed my shotgun chamber, letting flakes of dried mulch fall from the barrel. What a miserable way to spend an evening.


    Perhaps the only good thing was that my melting brain made the rest of our walk feel like it took seconds. Most of my focus was just spent trying to hold myself together. It wouldn¡¯t do to collapse or have a breakdown mid-mission. It wasn¡¯t even ego or how the squad view me.


    I just didn¡¯t want to let them down.


    A few fevered seconds later, and we stopped. Map said we were well within the lair area, and in a position where we should see actual signs of our target. The wide opening in the wall on our left looked to be a good bet, based on how cautiously Roxy approached it.


    We stepped up to the edge of a large room. Massive, really, compared to most of what we¡¯d come across so far being underground. It was also dark, any working lighting devoid in this space¡ªaside from something dull glowing from the other side.


    ¡°Staircase.¡± Roxy said, clicking on her flashlight. A relatively short one leading down to a messy floor.


    As the rest of the team switched theirs on, more of our surroundings came into view. A wide chamber, square in design. A wide pipe in the close left corner was constantly leaking a small amount of water, the noise of it louder than expected due to the couple of inches of dark water across the floor. There were cables running across the walls, avoiding the arched side exits that had been covered up with rubble.


    Straight ahead, a control panel and two large inert generators were blocked off by some thin grating. A wall of mesh that looked hastily constructed.


    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re on the right trail,¡± Roxy murmured.


    It looked like something else to me, but something had caught my tongue. Curiosity was a gag that had me eager to fuck around and find out.


    The super started off down the stairs, and we followed on. Our lights swept the closed off walkways and picked up the masses of cables running the walls. Batches of the ceiling to wet floor. The smell of blood filled my re-breather, but I was almost certain that was my imagination.


    I glanced at Belle. She looked on edge, clearly able to get a whiff of what the pages ahead were covered with. The rest of them were also on edge, but that was more for the basic tension of stepping into the unknown. My uncanny ability to predict future malady had skipped the sewer diving experience, but now¡­ with my brain overheating¡­ I could almost hear the rising orchestra in the background. Sharp strings prickling at the next narrative twist.


    Halfway through the wide room, and a floodlight bloomed into life, briefly blinding us.


    Behind the control panel ahead, a figure stepped out. Weapons were raised at the ready.


    Doctor Hydra.


    I had known a few with¡ªor adjacent to¡ªthat occupation, and he was nothing like them. He was a drowned rat with mad eyes and a slimy complexion that made it look like he drank the sewage for fun. Head-canon. Which was also the two-part instruction I''d enact to end this mission, if I was still in charge.


    ¡°Hold,¡± Roxy commanded, holding her arm out in front of us. ¡°This is a trap.¡±


    Perhaps stating the obvious at this stage, but I understood the parts that she didn¡¯t say. The floodlight had done more than just reveal a bunch of oddball heroes looking for trouble. Those cables running down the wall not only snaked their way across the fencing, but the ends went all the way to the floor. Like tree roots, splayed wiring reached out from the wall, submerged in the shallow water.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, m¡¯little morsels,¡± the doctor crooned, his accent odd to my ears. Either eccentric or not a Goldarch native. ¡°If you try to interrupt t¡¯process you¡¯ll be fried din-dins.¡±


    ¡°Surrender yourself and let¡¯s make this easy,¡± the super responded, holding back her rising anger.


    She held the same assumption as me. Hitting the grating obscuring the villain would set off the electricity and light up the room, using us as bulbs. Whether that would kill us or not was not something she was willing to find out the hard way.


    ¡°You supers think you¡¯re so grand,¡± he spat, twitching with fervor. ¡°Hydra will show t¡¯world t¡¯true pinnacle of mortality! Let t¡¯strongest survive and thrive!¡± The villain leaned forward and hit a button on the control panel.


    Floodlight vanished, and was immediately replaced by a rotating emergency light. Crimson, flickering between darkness and bright red as it turned in position. I looked behind us as the villain cackled stereotypically.


    Eyes in the darkness, at the top of the stairs. Maybe a dozen or so figures looming. To the right, where the large pipe had been leaking in the corner, a thudding sound echoed through the room. Then, with a growl, a soaked body fell out onto the ground. Followed by another. These creatures looked wilder than the others. More corrupted and crazed. Undesireable. Uncontrollable. Unacceptable.


    ¡°Hold them off,¡± Roy said. ¡°I think I can sort this.¡±


    ¡°You alright for this?¡± Bell asked, putting a hand on my arm.


    What a question that was. While the team readied to head off this threat, the surrounding sounds died off. As though a DJ was turning the dial, readying up the beat drop of the next track. I felt cold, but was burning up. The red emergency light pulsed in tune with my heartbeat, and I nodded along.


    But that wasn¡¯t acceptance.


    I blinked at the woman, who was now in full tactical gear. It was standard for the squad, of course. The name tag said Bishop, and I could feel how uncomfortable they were even with their face obscured.


    My head lolled back to the threat ahead. Only, it wasn¡¯t monsters anymore. Not even superheroes. Fear-stricken eyes looked at the members of my squad. Civilians.


    ¡°They said just one last fight, and then we¡¯re done. Free.¡±


    I looked back at Bishop, my brow furrowed.


    [Freedom? One last mission.]


    ¡°Yeah, Bard.¡± He gave me a pat on the arm. ¡°Get it done quick, and move on.¡±


    Something within my mind broke, the glass cracking. A slim line that itched and twisted the reflection. Any nerves rolling around me washed away to be replaced with disgust and anger. Revulsion and revolution.


    I reached for my assault rifle but found only a pump-action shotgun as my friend.


    My vision flickered monochrome and back to blood red. Civilians turned to crazed monsters to defiant supers. My allies were shadows and Disasters and tac geared soldiers. None of it mattered, yet this was the pinnacle of everything.


    With the pulse of emotions swirling around this chamber, I flipped the switch. Whoever my enemies or allies were, the way forward was exactly the same.


    The only thing that made any sense was the sole purpose I had been created and rebuilt for. The cycle repeated, unbroken.


    I must kill.

 127 - Lingering Stench

    I was the shadowed creation that haunted monsters.


    I was the thin blade that separated the threads connecting mortals to this plane. Death incarnate.


    I was also potentially slightly insane.


    Neither here nor there at present. Since my active mind couldn¡¯t decide on what my opponents looked like, I blanked them out. They became gray shapes, collections of anatomical parts and places for me to strike out at. And I wasted no time at all in doing just that. Fated purpose.


    Metal ball through the chest of the closest as the figure poured down the staircase toward me. A clawed hand lashed out from the next and I blocked it with the screwdriver, driving the tool through their palm. I kicked out their knee and then hit them upside the jaw with the barrel of my arm as I reloaded.


    High Explosive shot to the clamoring horde, hungry for my fevered vengeance. Another leg ruined. I stepped forward and kicked out at their face with my foot. Hefty crunch. Reflex powered through a handful of steel spheres, bursting organs and breaking bones. My feet running through the reddening water, I ducked and avoided swings. Blocked one with the side of my gun and turned it around on them.


    Overcharge crackled and hummed as I sideloaded a Quake shot. The mass of figures, confused¡ªyet undeterred¡ªtook the powerful blast without any chance of defense. The whole chamber shook and echoed with the reverberating pulses of a magical earthquake. With my prey stunned and off-balance, I approached.


    The man with no clear name but an obvious purpose.


    I entered the fray, unaffected by my own disorientating blast. A dervish of killing blows delivered to the tune of a racking shotgun. The one man massacre. I kicked out at a hand reaching for me from the floor. Followed up with a stomp to their head, my empowered leg bursting their skull like a rotten fruit. I grabbed the scruff of an opponent, bringing him in close as I struck him in the face with the flat of my gun-arm with a satisfying thunk.


    This is what they created. Thunk.


    A freight train unbeholden to the concept of tracks. Thunk. By the time they tried to reach for the breaks, it was already too late. Thunk.


    I wouldn¡¯t just bite the hand that feeds¡­thunk¡­but tear it from the arms of those who sought to control me and burn it to ashes.


    My arm raised again for another strike, but a firm hand gripped at my shoulder.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡±


    The switch was flipped back in the opposite direction. I was back in the chamber in the sewers, frozen in place with confusion. My left hand slowly opened, allowing the mutated creature to sink from my grasp. Whatever thick globs of gore that had once been its head slipped from the end of my gun-arm, splashing in the shallow water.


    My breathing came in haggard rasps. Corpses littered the floor around me. All the anger and mania circled around me like a whirlpool, escaping my mind like someone had hit flush. I was overheating, and cold again. At some point I had flooded myself with stims, and they complained, empty.


    [What did you do to me?]


    I turned my head slowly, every muscle in my body burning.


    It was Belle, with her hand on me. Concern and stress on her face. Behind her were the rest of the Natural Disasters. I knew these people. The gears of my current existence spun back up and Gunquake took the reins. Each of them had a similar look to the shielder, Roxy perhaps the most worried. She also had the body of the villain draped over her shoulder.


    Even with my brain going awol, I could piece things together. Roy was still standing with one of the cables in his hands, the electrifying gloves smoking slightly. Half of the grating previously protecting the mad doctor had been peeled back like wrapping paper after the Captain had overloaded the defenses. The rest of us had dealt with the monsters while our temporary leader clocked the asshole on the head.


    ¡°Something like a spell reflect,¡± Belle replied. ¡°New, and I wasn¡¯t sure it could work like that.¡±


    She had turned my aura against me, pacifying and calming me by flipping it to flood my own body with the magic. Enough to snap me out of my crazed spate of violence.


    [I appreciate it.]


    ¡°You were also saying a lot of weird shit,¡± Roxy added. ¡°We¡¯ll deal with that later, but we have to get out of here and tie up the League bullshit.¡±


    At this stage, I wasn¡¯t sure I could even move from this position. Everything ached, and I was about to hit the downward slope of stim withdrawal and adrenaline evaporating from my already struggling body. Even the memories of what I had just seen and done were wavering and moved away from my grasp like shy jellyfish.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t ideal, but Clara gave me an emergency option for this.¡± Belle released her hand from me to dig around in a pouch. ¡°All this babysitting, I will have to start calling you ¡®little bro¡¯.¡±


    I had no response to that. In fact, autopilot was shifting me from the comfortable seat behind the controls. Feeling like tenderized meat, I stood in silence as she withdrew the blood-soaked glove from my left hand. She held a black strap with a flat metal box at the end. It had a needle on one flat side, which I assumed would be going into my skin.


    ¡°It will keep your subconscious going, so you¡¯ll act normally for a short while¡­ but you won¡¯t remember any of it. Like being blackout drunk, without any of the good parts.¡±


    For some reason, it seemed the solution to not being myself was to not be myself even harder. Roxy stepped over to place her free hand on my shoulder as Belle wrapped the device around my wrist. They were talking to me but my ears couldn''t¡­


    I blinked away the warm haze as the super pushed a boot onto my foot. Billowing smoke surrounded us at the exit of the Meteor. With a nod, she stood, and I followed her. The rest of the Natural Disasters were here amongst the dense gray fog. My body knew exactly what to do, the instructions probably given to me already. I let it happen.


    As a group of five, villain once again over Roxy¡¯s shoulder, we stepped out of the cloud in tandem. Crowds of civilians stood behind metal barriers and the police held them back. Lights flashed as reporters took pictures and shouted to get our attention.


    The blonde woman who had spoken to me at the graveyard appeared and exchanged some words with us as we handed over the villain. I couldn¡¯t remember her name or position at this stage, but I kept up appearances with a nod and my own polite words, apparently.


    With the smoke clearing, we stood around and waved to the onlookers. This was all the League really wanted from us tonight. Pictures of the victorious. Headlines and gossip. The Natural Disasters were a real thing for Goldarch. So was I, although I felt anything but real.


    Not to wear out our welcome too much, we gave our last goodbyes to the crowd and headed to the back of the Meteor to head home.


    ¡°Roxy!¡±


    We stopped by the open flap and turned to see a man run over. Probably a superhero, given that he hadn¡¯t been stopped from approaching us. The suit with way too much flare to it was the other giveaway. Short black hair and a pencil mustache. Etched gold around flared sleeves and the high collar of his cloaked three piece suit. Shit-eating grin that was a contrast to the storm that had clouded Roxy¡¯s face. With her arms crossed, I¡­


    My muscles tensed up, hand forming a fist.


    Belle stepped in front of me, green eyes and pink hair clouding my vision. ¡°Do not kick that man in the balls.¡±


    Shame. Real fucking shame. I was currently blessed with the ability to kick his balls straight off of his body. He was right there.


    Although she had a point. It wouldn¡¯t be the best look for our official reveal. He had inadvertently introduced himself into my circle, and I could be patient. I would kick those balls, and every day that they remained unkicked was a blessing I afforded him.


    [Thanks, big sis.]


    She rolled her eyes, but smiled. With a gesture, she convinced me to get into the vehicle. Roxy definitely didn¡¯t need me to fight her battles, and that fact was hammered home as she entered the vehicle just a few seconds after the rest of us. I leaned back in my chair and sighed. Opening up my STAR, it seemed I had missed a lot of messages from Clara.


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    I skipped them for now.


    //Dubs: Can you drive us home?


    //Clara: Of course, Gunquake.


    //Clara: I¡¯m glad to see you¡¯re back with us.


    //Clara: But that means you¡¯ll actually pass out very shortly.


    The Meteor hummed into life. I was about to tell the techie a lie¡ªthat I was fine¡ªbut the rhythmic purr of vehicle was calming. Like the purr of a kitten. I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply.


    By the time I opened them again, a bright light was hanging over my face, blinding me. I was horizontal. Uncomfortable and confused.


    ¡°Please stay still, Gunquake.¡± Clara hovered over me, blocking the light. ¡°Your mask is currently off.¡±


    [Did something happen?]


    ¡°No. You¡¯re home now. I¡¯m just cleaning you out.¡±


    I could see now that she was wearing a mask. Thick gloves on her hands and a tired look in her eyes.


    [Oh. I¡­ didn¡¯t say anything embarrassing while I was blacked out?]


    ¡°As much as I¡¯d like to wind you up about it, no. Far from it, really.¡± She moved out of view to grab one of the cleaning tools again. ¡°Compared to your episode in the sewers, you were a model hero, Gunquake. Even suggested we go and put the tunnel hatch back on.¡±


    [Did we do that?]


    ¡°We went over there, but there were police at the ready who blocked us. Apparently, one of the vagrants there tipped over the fire barrel and started fights, blocking off the entrance to the tunnel.¡±


    I grunted. It was uncomfortable to know that I had been acting without control or memory of what I did. Given that I made it through the mission relatively unscathed, I shouldn¡¯t complain. My mind slowly worked its way over to the mental breakdown I¡¯d endured.


    The trouble with that sort of thing was that there was no guarantee any of the hallucination had a glimmer of fact to it. It was like a bad dream, edging close enough to reality to strike a very real fear in my heart¡­ but it was off. Incomplete and dramatic.


    If there was one thing I did trust from that event, it was that Bishop was one of the ten. Even thinking his name now gave me an itch. I couldn¡¯t stomach whether it was a bad or good feeling about him, but there was a connection.


    [How are the others?]


    ¡°In their own homes, scrubbing themselves clean. Your odor neutralizer wore off on the way here, reminding the rest of the team of how bad sewer missions are. Imagine my joy, Gunquake.¡±


    [Thank you for doing this.]


    ¡°I¡¯m a responsible adult, Gunquake. Maintaining you is part of our relationship.¡±


    Other than making me sound like I was a puppy that needed taking care of, I agreed with her take. She was my sidekick, personal medic, and technician. It would be negligent to allow me to fall into disrepair. Or stink.


    I tried to wiggle my toes, against doctor¡¯s orders, but found that I could not.


    Clara appeared over me again, my foot in her hand. She wiggled the disembodied tech. ¡°Is this concerning at all, Gunquake?¡±


    [I¡¯m more concerned with if the mission went fine in the eyes of the League.]


    ¡°All things told, it was successful on all fronts. No doubt they will find something to pull you up on in the debriefing, just to put you in your place. That¡¯s nothing you cannot handle, Gunquake.¡± She placed my foot down and picked up something that looked suspiciously like a toothbrush.


    [Then I guess the elephant in the room is¡­ that was Roxy¡¯s ex, correct?]


    ¡°No comment.¡± Clara vanished from my eyeline again and started scrubbing at another part of me not currently attached. ¡°As much as I would have loved to see some ball-kicking, Gunquake - this is something you¡¯ll have to talk to Rockslide about personally.¡±


    Not half because a full power kick would either kill him or send his sack to a different district code. I would have to be mature. It was likely I was also a responsible adult, and could be cordial with other heroes that I didn¡¯t really get along with.


    For now.


    I was, of course, officially a hero now. Did I feel any different from the day before? Not really. I had snapped and turned ultra-violent at the drop of a hat. But¡­ it felt different. It wasn¡¯t the cycle repeating, but the dying throes of who I used to be. I was moving on, and whatever remained of Bard had acted out like a child having a tantrum. The truth would work its way out eventually, but I wasn¡¯t going to chase it. I favored this peace and comfort I had built up.


    Everything was adding resilience for that day when shit would really hit the fan.


    Belle, for example, had reversed my aura so that my own emotions were calmed. In a way, that sounded like how my meditative state worked. A focus on the self. I assumed that it had only been a temporary switch, as I was feeling rather grumpy at being stuck in place.


    I wiggled my thumb in rebellion at Clara¡¯s rules.


    But nothing really changed as a result of this. After a few minutes of listening to her quietly scrubbing filth from me, I fell back asleep.


    It must have been a much needed rest, as I dreamed - a rare thing for me. Rarer still was that it wasn¡¯t even shadows and hints of my past¡­ nor foreboding for the future. Instead, I was having a meeting with the League, where Director Kingston was telling me I had to do safer missions as I had needed so much recovery from this basic one. I couldn¡¯t even focus on the fact he was instructing me to take Warlock as my new sidekick, because I was nervous about being unable to find my boots anywhere.


    A dream so normal it felt alien to me, my brow already furrowed when I woke up. The overhead lights were dim now, and while the ceiling wasn¡¯t too informative about my current state - I didn¡¯t need sight to know who was here.


    [I missed you.]


    A hand ran through my hair before Roxy stepped into view. The ambient temperature of the room was a little higher than normal, which could only mean the super had been sitting here a while, stewing away.


    ¡°The post-mission bath just wasn¡¯t the same without you,¡± she said, smiling. ¡°Clara said you can move now when you¡¯re awake.¡±


    [Oh, thank fuck.]


    I pushed myself up, muscles still achy and my cyborg body solely in my shorts once more. All put back together again. I rubbed at my head, thankful that I could breathe easy and not smell like rotten shit.


    [So¡­ I said some things while I was blacked out? Either time.]


    ¡°Quit it.¡± She rolled her eyes and held her arm out to help me off the bed. ¡°We both know what question you actually want to ask first.¡±


    [Uhh¡­ I don¡¯t know what you mean.]


    The super narrowed her eyes. ¡°Sure, we¡¯ll just pretend then, and move on.¡±


    I nodded, actually more eager to find the comfort of the actual house rather than hang around in our take-Dubs-apart room. There were plenty of things I needed answers to, but not before I got into some comfortable clothes.


    Roxy continued to glare at me as she watched me leave the bed and stumble stiffly toward the door. Eventually, she saw that I wasn¡¯t bluffing and followed along. I stepped out into the dark of night, the dim garden lights giving an illuminated path to the doorway.


    [I guess we missed out on the team party.]


    ¡°Yeah. Delayed until after the debriefing tomorrow. Turns out sewer stink is a terrible mood setter.¡±


    I took a couple of steps through the soft grass leading to the house and paused. A tiny predator stalked me through the shadows. I froze in position, ready to act. Roxy stopped behind me and crossed her arms.


    Now. It was time.


    I turned to spot Warlock trotting up to me and kneeled down to address him. He vocalized a greeting as I stroked his head. It looked as though he had been playing in the grass for a while, given how dirty his paws were. He purred as I continued to pet him, and I knew that no matter my performance in the city, I¡¯d still be a hero to at least someone.


    ¡°Let¡¯s grab you a fresh can, babe. It¡¯s a good evening for relaxing on the couch.¡±


    No more than five minutes later, we were doing just that. Both of us in matching joggers and tank tops, with a blanket over us as we sat on the couch. Warlock was asleep on my lap, splayed out like he had no cares in the world. Something was on the television, but neither of us were really watching it. This was just¡­ bliss.


    [Thank you for taking the lead today when I was out of action.]


    ¡°Of course. The best teams do have a pecking order when it comes to control¡­ which is like four of them.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°There¡¯s always the chance of capture or being put out of action. There was a team a few years back¡­ their leader got mind controlled, and the others tore themselves apart trying to decide what to do.¡±


    [Figuratively?]


    ¡°Yeah. Even if we weren¡¯t together, I¡¯d still have your back in those circumstances. The ability to hold a group together is almost a superpower in itself, which is why the jerkoffs at the League had me in charge.¡± Roxy paused and tilted her head. ¡°At least until I fucked it up, I suppose.¡±


    She meant by growing jaded and distant with her role as a hero, rather than being usurped by me after killing Red Dust. It hadn¡¯t taken long for the other three to fall back in line once they saw she was serious about being a hero again, so I had no doubt she had been effective long before I had shown up.


    ¡°That reminds me,¡± she continued. ¡°Got you a laptop for checking your socials and other bullshit.¡±


    [Oh. I can¡¯t just look at that through my STAR?]


    ¡°Fuck no. Trust me, Dubs. The last thing you want is the opinions of every half-brain and miserable troll constantly poisoning your mind. Heroes that do that don¡¯t last long, as it eventually gets to them. Doing anything for validation or attention when you have superpowers is a recipe for the League to shitcan you.¡±


    [Hmm. I see your point. Perhaps I will check before bed, then. Have you looked at yours?]


    The super nodded. ¡°While I was bathing. Quite a lot of positive ones, people seem to like the new look. I ignored the ones making comments about my figure for a change. Even the ones about my leg scars didn¡¯t bother me¡­ and I¡¯ll begrudgingly give the League props for taking the risk of me not looking picture perfect.¡±


    [Will I be able to see the location of my own detractors?]


    ¡°No.¡± She gave my hand a squeeze beneath the blanket. ¡°And speaking of that, thanks for not starting anything with our unwanted guest earlier.¡±


    [You can thank Belle for holding me back.]


    The truth was, I didn¡¯t really have the wits or motor function to really attempt anything as stupid as everyone was thinking. Belle had just distracted me from getting any terrible ideas.


    [You don¡¯t need to tell me his name or what kind of super he is. The only thing I¡¯m wondering is why he was there.]


    She leaned forward to look me in the eyes, trying to get a good read on how truthful my statement was. Both of us knew that if I had the information, I would be working out a counter to whatever his power was. It wasn¡¯t that he was my enemy or anything, and I had enough Sanguine stakes to settle any argument¡­ but I didn¡¯t want to do anything that made Roxy¡¯s life more difficult.


    Something she apparently came to the same conclusion on, as she sighed and reclined back on the couch. ¡°Trying to ride our coattails, no doubt. Muddying our rebrand reveal by turning up and attempting to stir drama with me. Make headlines. I brushed him off and left. Despite making it out of our breakup as the media darling, he hasn''t had the same amount of limelight since.¡±


    I could almost feel the sour feeling radiate from her body. After dragging her through the mud when they broke up, he wanted to insert himself into the picture once more. Profit off of our successes via being the biggest shit in the room. It stunk, but Roxy had handled it with maturity. Not wanting to get into it in the public eye again, she surely must have wanted to kick him in the balls twice as much as I had.


    The fact that he was now encroaching on this pocket of happiness I had bled for, just for attention, ground down at the patience I had tried to build for this ghost of her past.


    In my mental checklist, where I had crossed off kick balls to write remain cordial, I scratched out this plan to write my revised correction.


    Enemy, it said.

 128 - Bootlicker

    My fingers drummed on my metallic knee. Usually the Director didn¡¯t keep me waiting this long. The Natural Disasters sat alongside me in the waiting room, equally impatient.


    A night spent being normal had hit a soft spot in my soul. Ignoring the part where I was disassembled to be cleaned out, relaxing on the couch with Roxy and Warlock was more soothing than stims could ever be. The rest of the night had been uneventful as I recovered from my ordeal in the sewers.


    I had taken a break before bed to check my new laptop that had all my social feeds connected. There were a couple of civilians that made it onto my enemy list¡ªif they ever became villains¡ªbut reactions to my emergence on the scene were mostly positive. It seemed the populace had been hungry for someone who looked like a vigilante, even if the reality was that we were just as beholden to the League of Heroes within Goldarch.


    Outside of the city was another matter.


    There was even a Gunquake fan club already, although most of their posts were imagining how dreamy I was beneath the mask. All of them would be rather disappointed if they knew. Roxy and I hadn¡¯t come out as an official couple yet, and she warned me some of those supposed fans would turn toxic once they knew I wasn¡¯t single. I was mostly thinking about her ex and if he would have tried to insert himself into our circle if he knew.


    I flexed my toes within my boot.


    The pair of us had arrived at HQ and had a few minutes for small talk with the rest of the group. Their rebranding had been hit or miss, but mostly positive. Belle had lost a lot of her more evangelical followers, but gained a lot more in other sectors. Ren had the biggest gain, considering she wasn¡¯t a very active hero before this all started spiraling around me.


    On the whole, things were good. The numbers were already tiring for me, and I secretly hoped that Kingston would send us off to murder a few mutants in the waste to blow off steam. This meeting was with three of the Directors, so that wasn¡¯t likely.


    Clara was the only one of us excused from the debriefing, with the excuse that it conflicted with her education. Clearly, other than possibly Kingston himself, most of the League were still in the dark about her career development with Doctor Jarl. The techie had waved Warlock at me this morning, rubbing it in that she¡¯d just be home with the cybernetics expert working on my new arm parts.


    Instead of here, impatient and catless.


    A couple of heroes that I hadn¡¯t seen before had rubbernecked their way past the waiting room door, going about their business. We were clearly the hottest shit in the city as of last night, and no doubt the talk of the League. I set aside some time later to go through the list of heroes closest to our area of operation. Definitely not to try to guess who was Roxy¡¯s ex.


    The door ahead of us click and opened, an unmanned invitation for us to enter, finally. I gave the others a nod and took the lead. The meeting room was as plain as I had grown to expect from the League. Barely any furnishings or details around it, aside from the long table in the middle and several empty chairs closest to us.


    A panel of four awaited our arrival. Stacy, our manager, at the right of the table, looked rather out of sorts. There was some pride in her eyes, however. Her team was the talk of Goldarch, so that was no surprise. Aside from her demeanor, she looked out-of-place wearing a pastel peach pantsuit, compared to the darker garb of the Directors.


    Three of them, and I was surprised that I didn¡¯t recognize two of them. It made me wonder how many Directors this place really had. Or needed. Kingston sat in the center, fingertips pressed together in front of his face while his elbows rested on the table. Judging by how on-edge he seemed, I guessed that at least one of the other¡ªif not both¡ªof the other board members present were detractors of mine.


    On the left of the table was a broad man, almost bursting out of his black suit. Peppery-gray hair and long handlebar mustache, yet a youthful brightness to his eyes only barely diminished by his heavy brow, permanently scowling at us. Director Bunnings, his nametag said. I assumed that based on his stature; he was probably a retired hero. He had the jaw for it.


    Between Kingston and Stacy was an extremely short woman. Gnomes were uncommon across most of the continent¡ªfrom what I knew¡ªso it was interesting that she had been able to become a Director for the League. Director Kiki. Possibly another ex-hero? Perhaps the whole board had powers, seeing as Kingston did as well. She had dark green hair tied up in a bun, and plenty of wisdom behind the soft gray eyes that watched us enter and get seated.


    [Directors, Stacy.]


    I gave them a nod before placing myself in the chair. A little fealty might go a long way. Everyone had warned me that no matter how well I did, the League would needle me with some criticism. Performative to keep me focused on the treadmill.


    ¡°Natural Disasters,¡± Kingston began, lowering his hands to give us a smile. ¡°Great to see you all in your new designs, and in the wake of what is shaping up to be a positive team rebrand - alongside Gunquake¡¯s official reveal.¡±


    ¡°Considering the mission offered, and lack of actual public interaction,¡± Bunnings added, with some bluster to his voice.


    I could see Director Kingston¡¯s jaw clench. Clearly, the sewer mission was something pushed for our benefit - which was hard to accept considering the circumstances of what happened. It allowed us the win in front of a crowd without our actual work being scrutinized.


    ¡°How do you feel the mission went, Gunquake?¡± Kiki opened up a small case and withdrew a pair of round glasses. ¡°This is your first time leading a group, correct?¡±


    Far from the truth, but I operated under the assumption that they didn¡¯t know, or wanted me to align with their narrative.


    [Correct. I feel that I am very fortunate to have a team that works so well together. If anything, I consider most of the success due to Rockslide¡¯s prior experience as leader smoothing over any teething troubles I would have had otherwise.]


    ¡°So you are saying your inexperience brought up inadequacies, and that you had to rely on Rockslide to complete the mission?¡±


    I decided that there were two detractors in the room, then.


    [A good leader utilizes the strengths of those they lead. I am more of a manager that allocates the resources available to me to ensure the mission is a success.]


    Director Kiki nodded, pursing her lips - but didn¡¯t have anything to add.


    Bunnings shifted in his chair as if readying himself up to square up to me. ¡°So why is it you needed to put Rockslide in charge again? Things get a bit too much for you?¡±


    With a sigh, Kingston placed his hands on the table atop whatever paperwork he had in front of him. ¡°The board recognizes the fact that Gunquake is recently recovering from some extensive surgery, and appreciates that he put himself at risk in taking on the mission so soon.¡±


    The sneer from the larger man told me he didn¡¯t quite agree with that statement.


    [One of the villain¡¯s creations tried to drown me in sewage. While I recovered, I wanted someone with a clearer mind to lead the group so that I did not sandbag our progress.]


    Kingston nodded and turned to Roxy. ¡°How did you feel about having to step in, Rockslide?¡±


    ¡°Apprehensive.¡± The super furrowed her brow, as if she was concentrating on her words. She played into the brawn-over-brains theme in front of the League. ¡°I know that I¡¯m not allowed to be in charge, but as it was our leader¡¯s orders, I did the best for the team.¡±


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    We had practiced some of this out last night. While she had been slightly disappointed once she realized what kind of roleplay I had meant, Roxy had accepted that it was easier to dance along to the tune of the League and lick a few boots rather than give them pushback. If they were going to give us shit no matter how perfectly we played, then high-roading them took some wind from their sails.


    ¡°All things told, the mission was a success.¡± Director Kiki picked up the conversation, moving away from my leadership. ¡°Naturally, there are some negatives with the rebranding. All of you have had complaints from the public about changing to these new, darker themes. A risk the board has accepted, but we are seeking to minimize the pushback where possible.¡±


    Bunnings nodded. ¡°What could really help Gunquake¡¯s image is if the public could get a hint at the man beneath the mask. Is that something you¡¯re willing to do?¡±


    Although his tone indicated I didn¡¯t have much choice in the matter, I was briefly stunned by what he was actually asking me to do.


    [You mean¡­ literally?]


    ¡°It would help with your relatability,¡± Kiki agreed. ¡°A dark, brooding heartthrob would poll really well, don¡¯t you agree, Stacy?¡±


    My manager looked like a deer frozen in headlights, but managed a slow nod. The statement wasn¡¯t untrue, of course. I raised an eyebrow at Director Kingston and swore I could see the hint of a wry grin at the edge of his mouth. They didn¡¯t know.


    [I¡¯m afraid I have a disability that would make taking the mask off¡­ undesirable. If it is what the League wishes, I can do so.]


    I raised my hand up to the side of my re-breather. Silence filled the room, the rest of my team staring blankly at the two Directors trying to pry me apart. The gnomish woman opened and closed her mouth silently like a fish out of water, while Bunnings had turned into a brick wall. Figuratively.


    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary, Gunquake,¡± Kingston said, reveling in the petty win over his equals. ¡°I will make sure that my colleagues actually read up on your file. Unfortunately, there is not nearly enough sensitivity in the League over those with necessary cybernetics.¡±


    While Kiki had shriveled up, shooting Kingston a sharp glare, the other Director had started to paw through his paperwork like a confused caveman. Having a man on the inside was starting to look like more and more of a boon, even if we were getting ourselves involved in their office politics.


    My lens picked out a page that Bunnings had brought to the forefront. Not something intended for my eyes, nor something I could really read from this angle. The modified tech that Clara had given me had other ideas, however.


    A green wireframe illuminated the page, before drawing up a copy in my right eyesight. Words filled out as it transferred the letters one by one. A list of my known cybernetic parts - he was just seeing if the board had actually been told about my lack of mouth.


    [Shotgun-arm / D-Grade]


    [Re-breather / C-Grade]


    [Cyberskin / B-Grade]


    [Legs / A-Grade]


    [Nanites / Unknown? WG?]


    What a strange mix I was. It made sense that they knew about my nanites given that they took blood from me, but they were just as clueless as I was about them. Definitely something from outside of Goldarch, so someone with actual knowledge would be rare to find. With the upgrades planned for my arm and re-breather, my overall Grading should shoot up soon enough¡­ not that it affected my hero Ranking.


    [Not a problem. I am so used to it that I forget that it¡¯s not normal. Perhaps there is something else I can do to assist public perception?]


    It soured my insides to offer myself up like that, but I was digging them out of the hole they created. If they felt they came out of the meeting as the victors, then it would keep them off my back for a little longer.


    ¡°There is one thing¡­¡± Kiki began, putting a hand up to her chin. ¡°Stacy mentioned that you are dating Rockslide?¡±


    My manager had all but melted into her chair under the weight of everyone¡¯s gaze. Whether she held a slight grudge about the super snapping me up, or had just been making idle chat, didn¡¯t seem to matter now - as she fully regretted it.


    [That is correct.]


    ¡°There¡¯s a talk show that you should both go on, called The Power of Love. All about the love lives of superheroes.¡±


    Going public was always part of the plan. Part of the contract for me becoming this puppet of the League. Still, a glance at Roxy and she looked like she was weighing up how far she could get fighting her way out of the building right now. I could feel the warmth radiating off of her. It was indeed tempting.


    [That would potentially increase our favorability within the city and improve our Rankings?]


    ¡°Potentially is the right word,¡± Kingston confirmed. ¡°Popularity is only one slice of the pie, but I agree with Director Kiki - this would be a good opportunity for the both of you. It wouldn¡¯t be immediately, of course. You need some more groundwork, Gunquake, before we think about media appearances.¡±


    Kiki bit back a response, clearly disagreeing with him, but not wanting to say anything just yet. While he had dropped us right in it, I had the feeling that he had also just bought us time to prepare for it. How bad could it be, anyway?


    Clearly tired of trying to trip me up, the meeting moved on to more banal questions. The rest of the team was asked about their performance and activities during the mission. To their credit¡ªand my surprise¡ªnone of them mentioned my moment of going berserk. They confirmed I helped eradicate the monsters while Roxy and Roy got the villain. The League had no other way of knowing what exactly went on down there¡­ and I wondered if that was another card slipped under the table, thanks to Director Kingston.


    ¡°A reminder to check your calendars,¡± he concluded once all was done. ¡°All of you are back at work now, so expect patrols and individual missions to be assigned. Media appearances are still being finalized, but you all have work to do to win your fans back over and gain more¡­ all while keeping Goldarch safe.¡±


    The other two Directors looked done with it, the wind totally taken from their sails. No doubt they had planned a finger-wagging ending statement had the meeting gone more their way. They didn¡¯t even come out of it looking that bad. It had just been irritating for their egos - despite me appearing subservient and eager to do my best.


    ¡°All of you are dismissed.¡± Director Kingston tidied up his paperwork. ¡°Although, I would like to discuss something privately with Rockslide and Gunquake, if you please?¡±


    Stacy and the Natural Disasters were ready and happy to leave the room, while the other Directors looked rather sour that we were potentially getting preferential treatment from him.


    A few minutes later, and we were alone. He steepled his fingers in front of his face and glanced between each of us, a smile forming. ¡°Well played. I haven¡¯t seen Bunnings that quiet for a long time.¡±


    [We did better than just helping you win some points over them, though?]


    ¡°These are your detractors, Gunquake.¡± He leaned back in his chair. ¡°Those who believe a vigilante hero is deplorable. That rebranding a whole team is foolish. People who would lock you up rather than see you as a hero.¡±


    [I¡¯ll assume they didn¡¯t start up my fan club, then.]


    ¡°They really want to lock Dubs up?¡± Roxy asked, still some nerves rolling around.


    ¡°If not outright kill him. Those that know about his past, at least.¡± Kingston pulled a face. ¡°You¡¯ve seen firsthand how out of the loop some of them are. Intentional ignorance is a blight to the workings of the city¡­ but what can one man do?¡±


    [Give me twenty-four hours and full pardon and I¡¯ll show you.]


    He stifled a laugh. ¡°Please, Gunquake. Even saying something like that in jest within these walls is a dangerous thing. The reason I held you back is to hear the no-bullshit version of events. Was it just trouble with your recovery, or did you need to let Rockslide lead for other reasons?¡±


    [We both know no normal person would be walking so soon after getting new legs. Functionally, I was able to walk, but I became tired and sluggish after almost suffocating from the surprise attack. That is the reason I put Rockslide in charge.]


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t as if I had to do much in terms of decision making,¡± the super added. ¡°We followed the route and plan Gunquake designed. I was just making sure the morale of the others stayed level.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Kingston nodded. ¡°Good. The others aren¡¯t pleased about you two being together - hence trying to catch you out with the talk show. Personally, although super couples aren¡¯t great for business, I believe the pair of you are fantastic for the safety of Goldarch. We will turn this attempted gotcha into another win for you and the Natural Disasters.¡±


    I nodded along, sarcastically glad that our relationship had even more validation. A talk show, though? I couldn¡¯t see the angle. Did they expect me to lose the ability to be charming and well-spoken?


    [In what way is it a ¡®gotcha¡¯?]


    Roxy moved in her chair awkwardly. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ the show that had my ex on, after the break-up. The first to peddle his sob story, and I refused to be on there.¡±


    Ah. The unkicked edged his way in front of my foot once more. No doubt Director Kiki knew about this, and the suggestion was a deliberate way to unsettle the super.


    Kingston clasped his hands together. ¡°We¡¯ll make sure things go your way. Once the date of shooting is confirmed, I¡¯ll arrange for you two to go on a duo mission beforehand. That will stick fresh in the mind of the public and smooth over any rough patches during the interview. If it¡¯s something you want to downplay or¡­¡±


    ¡°No, fuck it. We¡¯ll do it.¡± Roxy put her hand on my arm.


    [Agreed. I look forward to it.]


    ¡°Perfect.¡± His eyes went over to the side of the room, as if there was someone standing by the wall. ¡°For now, follow your calendars and I will update you once things are confirmed.¡± Kingston¡¯s gaze returned to us and he smiled. ¡°Congratulations on your first successful mission. Go celebrate, you¡¯ve earned it.¡±


    There it was.


    Official. Undeniable. Validated. I was a hero - a working cog within the machinery of Goldarch. There was a brimming feeling within me, bubbling to the surface. Anticipation. I was looking forward to my career advancing. I had a career.


    So celebrate we would. I would live in the light, devoid of any shadows.


    Even if it just lasted for one day before fate muddied my boots again.

 129 - Friends, Family, Fingers

    It was our moment to celebrate.


    Something that seemed to mostly involve everyone gathering in our garden and getting drunk. Still, they were happy. Things were good.


    At first I had wondered who the Director might have been looking at during the final portion of the meeting. Roxy had asked me if I thought it was Silhouette, but I didn¡¯t think so. There wasn¡¯t that same feeling to it that I often got around my elusive brother. He hadn¡¯t messaged me since the leg-loss jab, and I didn¡¯t feel a need to contact him.


    My guess was that it was the owner of the League, putting his ear to the wall, metaphorically. The team was making waves for a handful of reasons, and it was in his interest to know what we were up to. Kingston couldn¡¯t labor any information on us about our wasteland exploits, and his glance was an unspoken way to let us know that we didn¡¯t have the privacy that required.


    Of course, I could be way off - but Roxy was content enough with that answer. While the rest of the team went home to get changed, we popped into a store and figuratively robbed it of a great deal of alcohol.


    Doctor Jarl was still at our home base when we arrived back, and after some back and forth, we convinced him to stick around. He was a part of our odd family now, after all.


    I looked over at the cybernetics expert as he was trying to explain some technical details about skin grafting to a very bored Roy. Roxy and Ren had a bet going that the ranger could strike any ball of rock the super could create and throw, and so far, was ten for ten. Belle appeared from somewhere and sat on a chair beside me.


    [You know, I appreciate the fact that your name doesn¡¯t start with an R.]


    ¡°A rarity, huh?¡± She smiled and tipped her second bottle of rum towards me. ¡°I appreciate you getting the good stuff, but I am pretty sure it was just the one bottle you owed me.¡±


    [I count the distraction before I could accost Roxy¡¯s ex as you saving my ass as well.]


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have really kicked him, though.¡±


    [Perhaps not. Who can really say? I¡¯m sure he will see the error of his ways once he knows Roxy is taken, and back off without me needing to do anything.]


    Belle drank from her bottle, maintaining eye contact but saying nothing. I could read through the silence, despite being slightly tipsy. Better I just switched subjects.


    [You don¡¯t want to get involved with the betting? Misuse your powers a little?]


    ¡°Nah.¡± She lowered the bottle and looked over at the pair. ¡°As much as He likes mischief¡­ either I shield the rock and blue-ball them both, or make the rock unlucky and the arrow ricochets. Probably back into one of us.¡±


    [Then I can use my powers to either calm the situation or regenerate health.]


    ¡°Bunch of misfits.¡± Belle shook her head and looked around the garden. ¡°Speaking of¡­ where did Clara get to? She can¡¯t be working still.¡±


    [Hmm. Let me go find her.]


    I grunted as I stood up - a sure sign that my birthday the other day was valid. Being responsible was aging me. Managing to avoid the pleas for help in the Captain''s eyes, I pushed the workshop door open slightly. Empty. A step over to her office and she wasn¡¯t in there either. Odd. While I hadn¡¯t seen her drink that much, she might be sick.


    On reasonably stable legs, I walked over to the house. The hallway light was on, but¡­ my eyes went to the living room, where the small cat was curled up on a blanket left on the couch. I stepped over to him and kneeled down.


    [Not much for crowds, huh? It gets noisy out there with the squad around.]


    He stretched out and make a small noise, but didn¡¯t look keen to wake up.


    [They¡¯re good people, though. Smart and passionate. I¡¯m sure we can convince them, we just need to stick together, okay? We''ll get through this.]


    Warlock didn¡¯t respond. Content enough to be warm and have my hand pet along him. I lost track of what I was actually saying to him, my words seemingly garbled. Another downside of getting my alcohol content directly into my neck.


    Oh, I was here trying to find Clara. I stood and left the cat to think about what I said. I knew he¡¯d come around to it - I could always rely on him. As I turned, I paused to see the techie already standing in the doorway.


    [Hello. I was trying to find you.]


    ¡°I was in my bedroom, Gunquake. Perhaps it was better I found you first?¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°I had a momentary flash of genius brought on by my inebriated mind and needed somewhere quiet to make notes. The process is complete and I am ready for more frivolity.¡±


    [Drunk enough to share details on what my new arm will do?]


    ¡°Keep on dreaming, Gunquake.¡± Clara smiled and turned to leave the house.


    I gave a brief glance to the unbothered kitten and shrugged. Although I had enough secrets in my life, I allowed this one. Few surprises were pleasant in my life, so having one that I could¡­


    My thoughts trailed away as a message pinged into my STAR. How ironic.


    With a sigh, I stood and left the room, back out into the noisier late afternoon where Clara had pried the Doctor away from talking Roy¡¯s ears off. The latter was now doing shots with Belle, and I started to realize that the Captain was probably the worst gambler I had ever known. Perhaps he just played for the fun of it, losing be damned.


    As I stepped onto the grass, it looked as though the pair using their powers had given up the challenge. With the warmth of inebriation clear on their smiling faces, they stepped over to me.


    ¡°There you are, Dubs.¡± Roxy grinned. ¡°Ren was just proposing something we can do together that I know you¡¯d love.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow, and the elf shot the super a quick glare.


    ¡°Phrasing. So the city kind of messed up when selling this land to me.¡± Ren gestured to our home base with a shake of her bottle. ¡°Technically, I am allowed to do a lot here, outside of the usual rules. I¡¯m thinking¡­ we built an actual command center.¡±


    [Oh?]


    I looked past them, out to the fading daylight darkening the path from here to the city.


    ¡°Unfortunately, you¡¯re going to see a lot of us assholes on the regular,¡± she continued. ¡°Having a better place than your garden table to plan missions would be nice¡­¡±


    ¡°Gives us the professional edge,¡± Roxy added, assisting the sales pitch.


    ¡°Maybe even some temporary accommodation?¡± The elf pulled a face. ¡°Somewhere to clean up or rest so that we aren¡¯t always back and forth between the city, you know?¡± There was an amount of apprehension in her pitch, like she thought she was overstepping a line.


    [Sure. You have my full support.]


    I gave them a polite nod and made to move past them.


    Roxy frowned. ¡°What¡¯s the hurry, babe? Where are you off to?¡±


    As I continued past our garden and buildings, I waved them off with my hand.


    [Just need to talk to family for a second. I¡¯ll be back.]


    Although I didn¡¯t get to see their expression, I imagined they were rather confused. In truth, so was I. While my senses might be numbed from the revelry, I was willing to take things in good faith. No doubt with everyone''s eyes on me, I stepped past the warehouse and left the safety of our defensive dome.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    I took several steps out through the warm rocky outlands before pausing. With a tap on my emptying canister, I then turned to my right and nodded.


    [Good afternoon, Silhouette.]


    The S-Rank superhero shimmered into view out of his invisibility. In his full cyber-ninja style outfit, the singular central yellow eye on his mask glowing.


    ¡°Forgive me for dragging you away from your celebration, but I wasn¡¯t keen on getting shot to pieces by your defenses.¡± He gave a glance to the now rather quiet party.


    [Think nothing of it. You¡¯re welcome to join us if you¡¯re not on duty.]


    He looked back at me, the light on his mask pulsing slowly, as if he was trying to gauge my mood. ¡°No. For several reasons. I¡¯m mostly here because I found it unbelievable you were up and walking so soon after your accident.¡±


    Since I was wearing shorts and no shoes, there was no hiding what I had going on down there instead of the fleshy parts I used to own. I stretched my left leg out and wiggled my toes.


    [I am a prodigy when it comes to coming back from the brink of death, it seems. Are you the same, brother?]


    Silhouette tensed up and crossed his arms. ¡°They say we are related, but I am not sure. We only have their word to go on. But no, I have no cybernetics, if that is your question.¡±


    [Interesting. Any gap in your memories from say¡­ five or so years ago?]


    He didn¡¯t reply at first, his singular eye just staring at me. Just when I thought he might leave without a response, he shook his head gently. ¡°I have some amnesia, yes. They tell me I was a bodyguard down in the city south of here. A contract went bad, and I took a hit to the head. Woke up here, recuperating. Apparently it awakened some latent powers I had.¡±


    [If that is true, then we are at least still brothers in trauma.]


    I¡¯m not sure I believed the story. That was to say, I was fully onboard with Silhouette thinking that was the truth, but it sounded like something fed to him. Then again, I had no indication he was a friend or foe in my past life. Nothing as strong as the connection to Warlock.


    ¡°Seems to be a shared trait of a lot of supers.¡± The hero shrugged and looked back toward the city. ¡°The truth will eventually come out. Secrets seek the light, like flowers growing from cracks in the sidewalk.¡±


    I wanted to poke him further, provoke some memories to come to the surface, but that seemed unfair. He had a vested interest in me ever since we crossed paths, and no doubt any hints I dropped along the way were gripping at his subconscious. He just didn¡¯t know it yet, and maybe he was happier that way. I certainly was, the more I put my old life in the grave. Digging it up fresh for him¡­


    [Are you sure you won¡¯t join us?]


    Silhouette huffed, the light on his helmet flickering as if he was chuckling. ¡°So friendly, despite it all. I can see why you¡¯ve gathered such a good team around you. Even as we chat idly, they¡¯ve planned how they would attack me if I tried anything.¡±


    I glanced back at the Natural Disasters, who were arranged awkwardly, eyes in our direction as they attempted to feign enjoying their party.


    ¡°But, no,¡± he continued. ¡°I would not remove my helmet and reveal my identity for anyone, even a brother. Plus¡­ it would be a terrible decision for you to add me to your defense white-list.¡±


    [That would assume that I thought you were a threat.]


    ¡°Gunquake.¡± He shook his head and the yellow light brightened slightly. ¡°If I were not, why did you come to me with a loaded chamber?¡±


    Internally, I smiled. Upon leaving the house, I had covertly slid a Sanguine stake into the chamber. I tried to keep one of them available in all circumstances, just in case.


    [Wouldn¡¯t you be disappointed in me if I was unprepared?]


    The hero sighed and relaxed. ¡°Perhaps we are brothers, after all. Enjoy the rest of your celebrations, Gunquake. Don¡¯t burn out too quick.¡±


    With a nod, he turned from me and started walking toward the city. His cloaking activated and his body vanished from view. I waited until I could no longer sense his presence before rolling my eyes and returning to the group.


    Roxy practically stomped up to me as soon as I was near the defensive dome area. ¡°What was that about?¡±


    [Just giving his well-wishes. Checking up on my recovery. Standard family stuff.]


    ¡°Bullshiiiit,¡± she screwed up her face. ¡°Was he threatening you? I was this close to getting involved.¡±


    [Forget it. I¡¯m not afraid of ghosts.]


    There was some amusing irony in that statement, but I was long past caring. Too fast and loose with my brain full of alcohol. It only took five more minutes of her pining before I relented to giving the super a play-by-play of what exactly was said. We sat in the swinging seat, cuddled up as we watched the other heroes discuss one of their old missions animatedly. Over to the side, Clara and Jarl had several pages spread across the ground, and were almost angrily disagreeing with something or another.


    As the afternoon turned to evening, we were all but spent on celebrating. While the others were content to say their goodbyes and retire for the day, Roxy and I did some light sparring out between the training dummies.


    The buzz of my inebriation was wearing off, but it had helped numb my brain when it came to accepting my legs. With the doctor gone, Clara switched her focus on monitoring me as I moved and fought against the super.


    She described my improvement as exponential. By the time my solo mission was here, I¡¯d probably not experience any negative effects from the new cybernetics. That only made my mind switch back to my brother¡ªand all my other potential siblings¡ªand if they had the same degree of injury recovery.


    I lifted my toes up and dug my heel into the ground, activating a partial burst through my leg to blow up a cloud of dust. With a lunge forward, I lashed out with my fist - but the super had already moved.


    ¡°You¡¯re getting predictable,¡± she said, grabbing my extended arm and pulling it past her. Her knee came up as I was dragged along, but I blocked it with my gun-arm. ¡°Always with the dust-blind.¡±


    I rolled along the ground to avoid her follow-up, righting myself up onto one knee. Roxy stepped closer, but paused when she saw I was holding something up in my closed hand, lifted toward her.


    ¡°Dubs¡­ are you¡­?¡±


    The barrel of my gun-arm raised slightly as I opened my fist up to reveal I was holding a handful of sand. Empty chamber blasted high-pressured air across my palm, blowing another cloud of dust right into the super.


    ¡°Motherfucker,¡± she swore, holding her face. ¡°That was on me.¡±


    [I apologize. Dick move.]


    As I stepped up to help her get the dirt from her eyes, she dropped her arms, eyes ablaze. She grabbed onto me and grinned. ¡°Limit test.¡±


    Then she threw me. I had to admit that it came as something as a surprise, it being a bit rougher than we usually played. With a quick twist, she had launched me out of our yard toward the wastes. The cool air whipped through me as I turned, only a couple of seconds for me to actually react.


    The ground rose to meet me, and I activated both of my legs at once.


    Rock split and dirt rose in a plume as I slid back a few feet. Standing in a slight crouch. The shockwave of my landing vibrated and echoed around me as I straightened up. Well, I hadn¡¯t exploded or broken anything. I had landed.


    Roxy stood back in the yard, hands on her hips, waiting for me to walk back. I must be a good fifty feet away now, more distance to her throw than height. Even pushing my limits, she wasn¡¯t trying to injure me.


    I stretched out my neck and rolled my shoulders. If we were going to play that kind of game, well¡­ nobody pushed me to the edge like I could. I waited a few seconds for my legs to recharge, and then I dug in.


    My metal feet powered me forward as I sprinted straight for the super. Overcharge crackled around my limbs as I powered up all three V-Force drives. My speed increased as I closed the distance. Roxy crossed her arms and braced herself, the grin on her face clear as anything.


    Legs activated first, both feet digging into the ground. The burst was like a rocket-boost sending me surging toward the super. Reflex set my synapses alight as I moved my gun-arm back, before lashing forward, the V-Force in my shotgun popping as I connected with Roxy.


    The shockwave shook our home area. Around Clara, the empty garden chairs toppled over. Blades of grass shook, pelted with a wave of light sand. My ears rang and I might have pulled a muscle in my back.


    Roxy stood up straight and whistled. There was a clear circle indentation left on her arm where my barrel had jabbed her, leaving a bruise on her skin.


    ¡°Keep at it, babe,¡± she said, shaking her arm off. ¡°You¡¯re almost catching up.¡±


    I grunted and looked at the mess I had made. Our training yard now had a couple of deep pits from my feet digging in, and I¡¯d spread any loose dirt to the edges of our buildings. We needed a better practice arena.


    [One day I¡¯ll usurp you.]


    ¡°No chance.¡± She grinned and stepped back over. ¡°But your efforts have earned you a bath. What do you say?¡±


    [Who am I to argue with destiny?]


    Who indeed? The super rolled her eyes and left for the house to put the wheels in motion. It had been quite the odd day. In avoiding the ire of the Directors I had gotten myself invited to a talk show about relationships. Had a decent conversation with my brother. Used my legs without destroying myself or going insane. Bubble bath.


    I went up to the techie before heading inside.


    [Any problem with my legs? Limit testing was probably a bad idea on the fly.]


    ¡°Quite the opposite, Gunquake.¡± Clara looked up from her laptop. ¡°I put Rockslide up to it. She should have thrown you a little higher, really but we¡¯ll try some more things once you have your improved grapple gauntlet.¡±


    [Improvements?]


    ¡°Offloading some of the more difficult cybernetic problems to Doctor Jarl allows me to spend more time on the gadgeteering side of my role. A good grapple is essential for you to make the most of your leg capabilities.¡±


    I could see the angle. But everything seemed to pale compared to the prospect of getting a working hand, however.


    [Will I be able to punch criminals with my new hand?]


    Clara sighed and closed her laptop screen down. ¡°Honestly, Gunquake. Yes. I¡¯ve told you about the synapse limitations that make replacing your shotgun difficult. You will not be getting a whole new arm. Forearm and hand, yes - but the V-Force drive has to be maintained. It¡¯s like¡­ stripping away the skin and muscle but leaving the nerves and bones in place.¡±


    [As long as I can still punch.]


    I looked over at the mess caused by overloading all three of my drives. That was my all, and Roxy absorbed it just in her base form. Although I no longer had a subconscious desire to kill her, I still wanted to win over her. At least in a best of five.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be able to do much more than that.¡± The techie bit her tongue and wrinkled up her face. ¡°Shame on you for trying to goad me into slipping you some information when you know it¡¯s meant to be a secret.¡±


    I shrugged. It was going to be my new arm, after all.


    ¡°How about this?¡± She sighed and leaned back in the chair. ¡°Go enjoy your evening. Ask me tomorrow, over breakfast¡­ and maybe I¡¯ll have a compromise.¡±


    Perfect. My winning streak continued.


    ¡°Oh, but first¡­¡± Clara dug around in her pocket and withdrew a small piece of metal shaped like a spade. ¡°It¡¯s your turn to clean out Warlock¡¯s litter tray.¡±


    I took the small object that looked suspiciously as if it was designed to fit on the end of my shotgun barrel.


    Once more into the fray, brother.

 130 - Prearranged

    A light breeze passed through me, rustling my trench-coat. I crouched down at the edge of the building and looked down on the city. The cover of night had fallen once again. Familiar.


    The time between the party and my solo mission had gone by in a flash. Now I was on the rooftops, waiting for my target to make their move.


    Something simple to earn me a few good-boy points in front of the public. Not even a villain, which was a shame. The League had intel about a small criminal gang planning a robbery. My role was to turn up as the alarms blared, give them a telling off and make the arrests. Pose for the cameras.


    The ringleader was a scruffy egomaniac with no other strengths other than being able to keep the gang together and focused on criminality. They had two bruisers who were Advanced, and then two base humanoids toting illegal firearms.


    Naturally, I wasn¡¯t allowed to kill them - or even maim them in ways that might be upsetting for those watching at home. While the populace loved justice delivered with a clean right hook, they didn¡¯t have the stomach for the broken jaw and blood splatters that often followed. All stage direction for my new role.


    The League had even booked in some ¡®brooding¡¯ time, which is why I was currently moping about up here rather than getting closer to the impending action. I didn¡¯t mind the showmanship of it because of how ridiculous it was. So distorted from everything I¡¯d been through that it felt childish, almost. Fun and games.


    Of course, getting shot up by some minor criminals would be a pretty sad way to cut my career short - even if I survived it. I still had to maintain my professional integrity.


    //Clara: Important message incoming.


    //Accept encrypted video file?


    The video player popped up in front of my right eye, the screen buffering for a moment before playing the file.


    A close-up shot of Warlock, the cat purring as he sniffed at the camera. His tiny kitten teeth showing as he thrummed in contentedness. I watched it for the full eight seconds.


    //Dubs: Appreciated. How does the mission look?


    //Clara: On schedule, Gunquake.


    //Clara: Two more minutes of posing, and then move to Point B.


    //Dubs: Understood.


    Roxy warned me that patrols would often be more of the same. Appear present and deal with minor crime that cropped up. Unfortunately, the League would take a dim view of me having a more proactive approach to apprehending criminals. I knew a few places I could shake down for some easy wins, but¡­ I had to do as I was told.


    Or at least pretend to.


    I stood up and stretched out. My grappling hook had now been upgraded in range and velocity, for only a minor bulk and weight increase on my arm. It was now also braced through a system running through the back of my tactical gear, connecting to my cybernetic gun-arm. The chance of pulling my human arm clean off was now a lot smaller.


    Drum full of Nerve. Smoke and Flash grenades. An assortment of the usual utility cartridges, with a Sanguine stake as backup.


    There was the temptation to feel that this was below me. That I was getting soft in running these low-stakes missions that were less dangerous than my kill contracts where I had not even half the tech I did now. In some ways, sure. The chance that I¡¯d die to a handful of thugs was low. But the scope of the stakes had just changed.


    I walked around the empty rooftop, keeping an eye on the streets below. Quiet at this time of night. If I were going to rob somewhere, I¡¯d do it in the daytime when there was more chaos able to obscure my escape. Rather ironic considering I did all my contract work in the nighttime.


    The target of the robbery was a jewelry store, which sounded like a pain to steal from. Word had gotten out that the store in question was in the middle of a refit and the security would be lighter. It had been enough of a draw for a few opportunists to try their luck. I almost felt bad for them.


    I hopped down from one roof to a slightly lower one - a drop of twelve feet that I walked off as if I had just stepped down a curb. Along the length of this wide apartment building, and then I was at Point B.


    //Clara: Hold until targets are located.


    I nodded. The techie¡¯s drone had been hovering above the area for the last twenty minutes, just in case the criminals were ahead of schedule. They rarely were. From this edge of the building, I could see the jewelry store across the road. Closed and shuttered up. I scoured the patches of light provided by the streetlamps. No pedestrians walking about. Few parked cars nearby due to part of the street being marked off for construction work.


    Arranged by the League, or the criminals? Wasn¡¯t worth speculating over.


    //Clara: Alert. Visual confirmed.


    //Clara: Northbound.


    I looked over at the left side of the long street. There was a van approaching at a decent speed. Unmarked, inconspicuous gray. Blacked-out windows. I continued to watch as it mounted the curb and sped across the pavement, drawing to a sliding stop just before the targeted store.


    Of course, I had to wait for the crime to be committed before being able to do anything about it.


    Seemed inefficient, but I¡¯d had enough lectures from the others about laws and insurance policies that it was just easier to go along with what the League wanted.


    It would have been more efficient for the robbers to drive slightly past the store as well, for loading the stolen goods into the back of the vehicle. I glanced at the surrounding apartments and office buildings. Oh well, this suited me.


    The doors of the van opened up and five individuals hopped out. Masks over their heads and paranoid glances at their surroundings as they rushed to the storefront. None of them looked all the way up here, but I knew enough eyes were on me. A short, candid movie the League of Heroes was directing. Clips would be posted to the news and all over social media by morning. Gunquake stocks on the rise.


    Sparks flew from the metal shutters as one of the bulkier individuals used something to start cutting their way in. There were a pair with small firearms keeping watch for interruptions, but I wasn¡¯t sure they¡¯d want to catch a murder charge over a robbery. That said, many criminals weren¡¯t so rational.


    //Dubs: Confirm targets.


    //Clara: Van clear. Five targets. Leader is wearing a blue vest.


    Perfect. I was only slightly sour that I couldn¡¯t just hit all five with a Quake shot from up here. Clara had been hesitant about agreeing to create a Nerve grenade, but one of those dropped from the drone would end things pretty easily as well.


    No show for those watching at home, however.


    Glass shattered, and three of the figures entered the rough flap of metal bent out of place. An alarm sounded, wailing through the night. They were on the clock now until the police showed up. Almost seemed unfair that I was already on the scene.


    I stood and stretched once more, my STAR already flickering through the necessary calculations. At the count of three, I took a step off the edge of the building, a hundred or so feet up.


    Grapple lashed out of my gauntlet, striking the building opposite exactly where it needed to. It reeled me in as I dropped, causing me to swing at an angle. A little precision to avoid painting the road with a bloody streak of Gunquake, but it went perfectly - the practice with the techie earlier paying off.


    My legs powered up, and I lifted them for impact.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I skirted over the street and planted myself against the side of the van with a burst of my V-Force legs. The vehicle crumpled from the impact, windows shattering as it slid across the sidewalk by several feet. Smoke grenade burst up from around me just as the criminals were escaping the building with arms full of stolen goods.


    Dense smoke whipped around as I stepped out of it.


    [Sorry about the van.]


    Nerve shot straight to the neck of the first armed thug, knocking him out. The second raised his weapon nervously, right before Clara struck him with her drone''s Tazer.


    ¡°Fuck, a super,¡± the leader screeched, his eyes clearly wild and panicked even through the mask. ¡°Get him.¡±


    To his credit, the two unarmed criminals darted at me with little hesitation. From their stances, they were probably boxers or had similar training. Their Advanced biology would have put them top of their classes, but my STAR didn¡¯t even bother to grant them a Threat level visually.


    Something reflected in our brief scuffle. While Agent W was a fighter very rough around the edges, Gunquake sparred with a speedster and a strength super. My reflexes were sharp, and I knew when to take¡ªand how not to take¡ªa hit.


    I ducked the first jab and spun to sweep his legs out. Stood and blocked the second fighter with my gun-arm, which was something that hurt him a lot more than me. Empty cartridge popped from the chamber as I adjusted my positioning.


    //Clara: Target moving.


    Backed away from a clumsy hook, grabbing the outstretched arm and pulling him into my metal elbow. Thud. Lowered my gun-arm and shot the other recovering thug in the chest with Nerve.


    The leader had picked up one of the pistols and made a run for it. Down an empty sidewalk, he wasn¡¯t likely to be successful - which was something he realized upon turning and seeing that I had knocked out the rest of his gang.


    [You cannot escape justice.]


    He raised the weapon, shaking.


    My grapple shot out, zipping past him and adhering to the sidewalk further past down the road with the expanding foam. Winches and gears spun up, and I ejected some residual power from under my feet. I drifted across the ground toward him at speed.


    He found the courage to squeeze the trigger. We exchange a single shot each before I collided with him. I slid across the ground, creating sparks as I turned, hoisting the unconscious man over my shoulder.


    The pulsing lights of the police on their way were already illuminating the street, several cars and a van speeding over. I walked the leader over to the rest of the criminals as the cops slid into position around us.


    ¡°Gunquake,¡± one of the cops said, taking lead. ¡°Thank you for apprehending the robbers.¡±


    I nodded and glanced over at the sidewalk where the discarded jewels and watches glimmered in the emergency lighting. All this for shiny rocks.


    [Just doing my duty, Officer. I¡¯ll leave the rest to you.]


    He gave me a nod and started calling orders to the others as I laid the criminal down. I turned and fired my grappling hook up to another building, zipping myself out of the scene to escape to the rooftops.


    //Clara: Preparing our wetroom for bullet removal.


    //Clara: Vitals are fine for now. Get to the Meteor.


    //Clara: Mission successful, Gunquake.


    Being bullet resistant wasn¡¯t quite cutting it these days. I was thankful the thug was a terrible shot, and that my dark outfit obscured the blood soaking through my undershirt. Did shooting a superhero count as attempted murder when many could avoid or were unaffected by such things? I hoped so.


    I slid down a sloped roof, hopped over a gap between one, then a second building - before leaping down onto the street below. A thirty-foot drop that my cybernetics weathered with only minor damage to the road''s surface. Clara had already parked her drone in the housing made atop the Meteor. Handy for when I didn¡¯t want to lug around the backpack.


    Back of the vehicle opened up, and I stepped inside, sitting myself on one of the side benches.


    //Clara: Taking control and making a course for home base.


    //Dubs: Understood.


    The Meteor hummed into life. Smoke clunked out the back, obscuring the vehicle. A static feeling filled the interior as Clara activated the basic cloaking, and then it lumbered forth. She seemed to think it was a good idea not to have an easily trackable behemoth move directly from the scene of a crime to where we lived.


    One part of being well known that I hadn¡¯t considered. I wondered how normal heroes dealt with it, since we were lucky enough to have a pseudo-fortress in the making.


    I let the stims flow through me, calming the pain so that I could meditate a little. One day, I¡¯d take a bullet to the brain, and I doubted any of my current associates would have a way to put me back together again.


    Maybe it was time to have a private meeting with Director Kingston and turn the screws on him for better gear. Clara had some ideas, but those mostly involved extensive invasive surgery that could have complications. I¡¯d lived through enough risk and wanted her to focus on my arm for now. Maybe I could ply some favors from the team.


    A few deep breaths later, and I had arrived home. Roxy was off duty and had been waiting in the garden for me to return. I stepped out of the Meteor and stretched, causing a slight pain in my upper chest from the bullet wound.


    ¡°Already blowing up,¡± she said, meeting up to escort me to where Clara was waiting. ¡°There was no need to be that extra, but the public are eating it up.¡±


    [What are your opinions?]


    ¡°Swinging into the van and coming out of the smoke cloud was badass.¡± Roxy grinned. ¡°Although, hitting them with a Quake would have ended things a lot quicker without you getting shot.¡±


    [Preaching to the choir.]


    I stepped into our makeshift surgery room, where the techie was already masked and gowned up. Roxy helped me take my trenchcoat off and unclip my tactical vest. With a grunt, I sat on the chair and leaned back.


    ¡°Most of the impact was absorbed by your metal ribs, Gunquake,¡± Clara said, moving in closer with a pair of large tweezers. ¡°Bloody, but not life-threatening.¡±


    Compared to how I came back from a lot of my contracts, this was nothing. A stubbed toe, comparatively. Not something I wanted to make a habit, but it explained why even these two weren''t worried.


    ¡°They¡¯ve moved our schedules around a bit,¡± Roxy said, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. ¡°We¡¯re both on patrol tomorrow, then you¡¯re off the next day, then¡­ it¡¯s our duo mission.¡±


    [What you¡¯re saying is they¡¯ve booked the talk show?]


    ¡°Yeaaaaah. Day after.¡±


    I looked past the techie, at the super. She was definitely not looking forward to going on television and talking about our relationship. If only because she was a private person, and not because there was any shame in being with me. I was great, after all.


    An odd prick of self-doubt to align with the sharp pain of Clara pulling the bullet from the wound.


    [If you¡¯d rather destroy the city and everything we¡¯ve built instead, just let me know.]


    ¡°Tempting.¡± Some of the worry left her face, and she smiled. ¡°We¡¯re both more comfortable fighting, but at least you¡¯re good at talking. I¡¯ll be putting my feet in my mouth the whole interview.¡±


    The bullet clinked in a metal tray as the techie put it down. ¡°You need to prepare, sister. How can you spar and workout to get ready for fighting, but are at a loss when the scene changes? You even have the best coach on your side.¡± She gave me a pat on the arm.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine with the debriefing meetings, but going through my dirty laundry is different¡­ especially with what happened before.¡±


    [Well, it¡¯s different now. You have me by your side, no matter what happens.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes, but her smile widened. ¡°Alright, asshole. We¡¯ll kick the shit out of the interview and then go back to murdering mutants and foiling criminals.¡±


    [Careful, it almost sounds like you like being a hero again.]


    She flipped me off and turned to walk out of the door, pausing briefly to look back. ¡°Get cleaned up. I¡¯ve cooked us all dinner.¡± The super left, closing the door behind her.


    ¡°Amusing,¡± Clara said, applying a healing cover to the wound. ¡°Considering our dinners are just slices of toast and a canister, Gunquake. It¡¯s about the tradition of it, however. A normalized routine.¡±


    [Things have certainly been more normal¡­ domestically, at least.]


    ¡°I¡¯ve even been too busy to flirt excessively with you.¡± She sighed as she pulled off the rubber gloves. ¡°I hope you know that my intentions have never changed, Gunquake, despite this fact.¡±


    [I¡¯m not sure I even understood what your intentions ever were.]


    ¡°Good.¡± She pulled the medical mask off and smiled. ¡°Let¡¯s go humor Rockslide so that I can get back to working.¡±


    With a nod, I pushed myself off of the chair, and we did just that. The cool night air was calming as we walked across the garden, and I glanced around our home base. It was hard to imagine that it had just been a rough shack at first, and now we were in talks about having a proper command center for a supergroup amongst our storage and workshops. The trajectory my life had taken was¡­


    I paused as we entered the house to look to the right. Warlock was currently sprinting around the living room, bouncing across the couches as he chased a feathered ball. Looks like I wasn¡¯t the only one more active at night.


    ¡°There isn¡¯t any wildlife for him to bully,¡± Clara explained, ¡°so I¡¯ve gotten a few tech gadgets for him to play with.¡±


    We stepped into the kitchen where Roxy was already seated, eating what looked to be some curry and rice. A canister and a plate of toast had been placed on the island counter so that we could all sit around it. Like a proper ritual.


    ¡°I know,¡± she said, before we could comment. ¡°Let¡¯s just pretend we¡¯re a functioning family, though. It¡¯ll be good practice for when we go meet my parents soon.¡±


    Hmm, my feelings on that probably mirrored hers for the talk show interview. I¡¯d best behave and follow her guidance. I sat down at my designated seat and awkwardly began the process of replacing the canister already in my neck.


    [Oh, I forgot to ask you about my gun-arm, Clara.]


    Maybe not good practice for polite conversation around the dinner table, but if I kept my head facing the techie, then I could ignore any narrowed eyes the super might be giving me.


    ¡°Indeed. I see where your priorities lie.¡± Clara lifted up a slice of toast. ¡°You wanted to make some arrangement so that I would divulge all the secrets surrounding it?¡±


    I nodded eagerly, clicking the canister clips back into place.


    ¡°It¡¯s just one simple thing I ask for in return, Gunquake.¡± She narrowed her eyes, a slight smile at the corner of her mouth. "And I will tell all."


    Even Roxy paused to listen, halfway through eating her food.


    ¡°I require your hand in marriage.¡±

 131 - Playing House

    Roxy choked and spluttered, her mouthful of food getting caught in surprise by the unexpected proposition from the techie.


    I raised an eyebrow.


    [Really? Marriage?]


    Clara nodded, ignoring the choking super, as she took a bite of toast. ¡°Think of it like a non-disclosure agreement. Legally, marriage would allow certain safeguards in terms of keeping specifics of the technology under wraps, as well as allowing me unfettered access to all parts of you should you perish.¡±


    [You don¡¯t want my hand to fall into other¡¯s hands.]


    ¡°Other than in mine at the altar, no.¡±


    ¡°Clara,¡± Roxy finally managed, her face red as she struggled for air.


    [I feel that it might make things rather awkward.]


    ¡°True.¡± The techie tilted her head. ¡°We¡¯d probably need a bigger marital bed, Gunquake.¡±


    ¡°Clara,¡± the super insisted, the temperature of the kitchen clearly increasing.


    [I¡¯d even have a legitimate surname, if I took yours.]


    ¡°Dubs.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Gunquake.¡± Clara smiled. ¡°I¡¯d do anything for my betrothed.¡±


    I was reasonably certain that we were a few short seconds away from one of us meeting an untimely end. Clara¡¯s latest playful jab had clearly struck a nerve with the super, as Roxy was usually only playing along at being annoyed. Mostly. At present, she looked ready to pop - although that could be partially from inhaling her food.


    [Unfortunately, Clara, I will have to decline your proposal. While you mean a lot to me, I am not at a stage in my life where marriage is something I wish to consider. I do hope this doesn¡¯t affect our relationship in a negative manner.]


    ¡°Once again, it is a blessing that I am unable to shed tears.¡± She smiled and waved her toast at me. ¡°All things in good time, Gunquake. Much like you and learning what your arm will do.¡±


    [Acceptable. Have your secrets, then.]


    I glanced over at Roxy, and her bubbling rage had been replaced with something akin to dejection. Surely she wasn¡¯t disappointed that I had rejected Clara, so left only one other reason.


    [When¡ªand if¡ªI¡¯m ever ready, you might have some competition, Clara.]


    Before either of them could respond, a crash came from the living room. Shortly followed by the sound of scrabbling claws sprinting and sliding over the floorboards as Warlock scurried through the lobby to the dining room.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to have to secure that cat tree to the wall,¡± Clara sighed, looking over at the doorway. ¡°If I may be excused.¡±


    She got up and left, leaving the two of us alone.


    [Did you want to talk about this like adults?]


    Roxy worked her jaw before sighing and picking her fork back up. ¡°Is that how far we¡¯ve fallen? Working through our emotions responsibly now?¡±


    [I¡¯d like to think that if marriage was on the cards, it would be something we had both discussed at length prior, and not a surprise.]


    She wrinkled up her nose. ¡°Fuckin¡¯¡­ yeah, I mean I agree - Clara just caught me off guard and I got defensive. I love you, Dubs, and I don¡¯t ever see someone reaching the pedestal I¡¯m putting you on.¡±


    I nodded and rotated the empty canister between my fingers.


    [My stance doesn¡¯t mean the feeling isn¡¯t mutual, but what I said to Clara was the truth. I was a mercenary, and then a hitman. There could be proof of my many crimes someone is just waiting to blackmail me with. I¡¯ve almost died so many times, even just in the short time we¡¯ve known each other. It wasn¡¯t even two months ago where I didn¡¯t know if I even deserved happiness, so marriage is¡­ distant to my current focus.]


    Roxy nodded, pouting slightly as she jabbed at her rice idly. ¡°I think¡­ my nerves are just getting the best of me. I¡¯ve never had something as good as what we¡¯ve got, and now that it¡¯s going to be out in the open¡ªon the fucking television¡ªI¡¯m just panicked about it all.¡±


    [We¡¯ll meet the future together, whatever it holds. We can worry about everything else once we¡¯ve survived this new life.]


    She gave me a wry smile. ¡°Alright, you¡¯re on. Thanks for talking sense into me¡­ again.¡±


    [No worries. Thank you for arranging this attempt at having a normal family meal.]


    Roxy shrugged and leaned back on her stool, trying to look out of the kitchen and into the living room. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know any better, then I¡¯d assume the gremlin was forcing this conversation. You know how she is.¡±


    [I do.]


    Despite the narrowed eyes the super gave me for the choice of phrasing, the rest of the night went without issue. I was rather eager for some rest after my first solo mission, and although my legs gave me no grief, my stamina wasn¡¯t quite back to normal. I was thankful enough that I no longer had weird flashbacks or the desire to kill all those around me.


    Just some.


    A thought that seemed to linger, as I had a bad dream during the night. Ostracized for the sins of my past. Losing everything again. I woke up and rubbed my head. Still dark out.


    With a sigh, I left the warm bed. Although it felt like I needed to wash my mouth out, that obviously wasn¡¯t the case. Second best would be to splash some cold water on my face. I moved out of the room, as near to silent as I was able. We both had patrol later this evening, and I didn¡¯t want to mess any of our schedules up.


    There was no point putting the light on, as I knew the layout of the house well enough. Well, aside from the basement gym, of course. I ran the tap on low and cupped my hand beneath the flow. Once full, I splashed it across my brow. It ran down my face and I sighed, looking at myself in the mirror. From what I could see, there was-


    A flash of blue briefly illuminated the room, coming from the lobby. Gun-arm chamber snapped open, and I slapped Roxy¡¯s toothbrush in there. A few quick steps took me to the landing railing, looking down into the lobby. I lowered my weapon.


    Clara was sitting there on the floor - something I could only tell via the faint green glow in front of her face due to her eyes. Faint wisps of smoke ran from her, caught in the brief moonlight coming in from the window. Warlock trotted into view beside her, with something in his mouth.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    [What are you doing?]


    The techie looked up, pulling a face that I couldn¡¯t quite read due to the shadows. ¡°My best,¡± she whispered.


    [It is a little late to be playing with the cat. Get some rest.]


    A bit shorter with her than I would usually be, but I was half awake and Roxy might break us in half if we woke her up because Warlock had broken one of his tech toys. It definitely had no bearing on me being jealous that he didn¡¯t want to sleep in my bedroom. I retired back to bed, feeling¡­ somewhat better.


    It was high time I took things a little more slowly in life. Safer, now that everything was settled and made sense.


    <hr>


    I adjusted the magazine in its pouch and turned to the suited-up super, who was walking over from the house to the Meteor, which I was standing beside.


    [Can you believe I have my first online troll?]


    She grinned, looking as radiant as ever as the sun faded away to an amber sunset. ¡°I¡¯m sure you have more than one, babe. What¡¯s their deal?¡±


    [Their username is ¡®Bumquake¡¯, and I am unsure how they are intending that to be read. They mostly post about how I am just a knock-off of some old hero called Baron Blast, and disparaging the potency of my firearm.]


    Roxy stopped in front of me and put her hands on her hips. ¡°I¡¯ll not comment on that, but they sound pretty tame. Be thankful you don¡¯t have whole fan clubs devoted to candid photos of your bare feet.¡±


    I furrowed my brow and glanced over at the city.


    [Goldarch needs a purge.]


    She grinned. ¡°Most of them aren¡¯t even of my little piggies. It¡¯s unhinged, but don¡¯t let it get to you. I already know you¡¯ve tried to find out where this Bumquake resides¡­ aside from rent free in your head.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that I saw Gunquake carving that name out on a grenade earlier,¡± Clara interjected, appearing from the workshop.


    [We don¡¯t have anything potent enough to be worthy of solving that blight.]


    It was a Flash grenade. I didn¡¯t kill innocents, even if they were assholes.


    ¡°Either way,¡± the super said, reaching out and pulling on my coat to bring me in for a kiss. ¡°If I have my break later in my shift, and you have yours earlier¡­ we could meet up, since we¡¯re in adjacent districts.¡±


    [A date? Late night coffee shop or something?]


    ¡°Mmm, perfect. We¡¯ll work out details later.¡± She gave me another peck on the re-breather. ¡°Don¡¯t die of boredom on your patrol¡­ and don¡¯t get in trouble.¡±


    [I make no promises.]


    With a sigh, Roxy let me go and stepped away - only to crouch and leap high up into the air. Now that I was partially capable of the same feat, I had to watch in awe at the height she could get. Easily quadruple what was safe for me, with only damage to the city roads as a consequence.


    ¡°I apologize for rocking the boat yesterday, Gunquake.¡± Clara tapped a tool on the side of the Meteor, drawing my attention.


    [Oh, no it¡¯s fine. I was expecting you to maintain the illusion of authenticity for longer, actually.]


    ¡°I just apologized for it - I didn¡¯t say I was being disingenuous.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯ll need a lot more time to prepare to fight Roxy for the rights to your hand. Oh, and speaking of that¡­ I won¡¯t be actively following you during patrol tonight. My attention is better spent working on your cybernetics.¡±


    [More secrets. That is fine, but I¡¯ll take the drone in the backpack just in case I need you.]


    ¡°Acceptable.¡± Clara crossed her arms. ¡°The hobgoblins need the updated schematics for forging your new hand parts. A lot of it is more detailed and complex than they are used to, and I need them to be up to the task before sending Roxy over to assist with the metal.¡±


    I nodded. That made it seem like things were getting closer, if actual parts were being made. At this point, I would almost consider firing her from the sidekick position so that she had more time for working on my arm¡­ but that was selfish. The drone and her guidance were important for a tech hero that was far too easily injured.


    ¡°Plus, I¡¯m preparing for your imminent surgery to improve your re-breather, as previously discussed. You keep me very busy, Gunquake.¡±


    [That is what you wanted from the start, though. A guinea pig to utilize how you saw fit.]


    She clicked her tongue and shrugged. ¡°Well, I haven¡¯t done everything I¡¯ve wanted just yet, but you have certainly exceeded expectations.¡± Her eyes wandered over to the workshop. ¡°And will continue to do so.¡±


    [How about something so that random thugs can¡¯t put a bullet through me?]


    ¡°It was your choice not to have your skeleton replaced with the ancient mech metal.¡± She shook her head. ¡°If your outfit is insufficient, then blame yourself and take it up with the League, Gunquake.¡±


    Elective bone replacement surgery was probably one of her more horrifying suggestions, and that was knowing how many of her weaponized shells were classified as war crimes. Not fully knowing what material the old robot was made out of could lead to some terrible things if I allowed my imagination to run free. Which it did when I listed eight reasons why I would decline the offer.


    Pestering the League sounded like a good use of my time, however.


    [Alright. You get back to giving me a hand, and I¡¯ll go prep for my patrol.]


    She did just that, without complaint. While the initial intention was to modify me in a way that I had the full use of two limbs for once, it was also about whatever functions she had managed to add to it. Whatever it was, I couldn¡¯t wait to kill things with it.


    //Gunquake: Hi, Stacy.


    //Gunquake: Any chance I can arrange a meeting with Director Kingston?


    //Gunquake: Before the duo mission is preferable.


    //Stacy: Let me see what his availability is like¡­


    //Stacy: Pretty booked, unfortunately - but I¡¯ll ask, anyway.


    //Gunquake: Thank you, appreciated.


    Well, that didn¡¯t take up much of my time at all. As much as I was enjoying the lower stakes of being a hero, I wanted to know what was going on with the World Government. If there was anything coming up that we should be wary of.


    Otherwise¡­ I¡¯d find my own problems to solve.


    Force of habit, really. My years of being a hitman were nothing but work and recovery, so sitting idle was only nice for a certain amount of hours before I started looking for something to stick both feet into. Usually something early-grave adjacent.


    Nothing right before our talk show interview, though. I had to turn up pristine, putting my best mask-covered face on for those watching.


    I sighed and convinced myself to go and track down wherever Warlock was hiding. There was a chance he was in the workshop, and I had no intention of interrupting Clara. Her space had become something of a no-go zone for how much time she devoting to the prototype tech going into my new arm.


    While getting ready earlier, I made a note that one of my magazines had gone missing. That didn¡¯t really tell me much, however. If she needed to make a new magwell or have on-board storage, it made sense to measure the mags in person rather than try to find the specs for this old tech.


    Maybe she would make me double-barreled.


    Internally, I grinned. I stepped back into the house and scouted about for the energetic cat. While he had spent most of the day lazing around the garden furniture in the sunlight, I knew he was just powering up his battery to run about now that dusk was upon us.


    A glance around the living room - no cat. Kitchen and dining room were similarly devoid of the kitten. Up the stairs and he wasn¡¯t on our bed, nor was he hiding in the bathroom. Clara¡¯s bedroom door was closed, so I didn¡¯t think he¡¯d be in there - and I wasn¡¯t about to breach her privacy by looking.


    It was looking more likely that Warlock was already in one of the buildings that the techie was using. I sighed, but hatched a plan. I¡¯d get some of his treats - the ones he couldn¡¯t resist - and camp out in the garden with them until he showed up.


    Foolproof. I walked back down the stairs and stepped across the lobby toward the kitchen¡­ but paused.


    I raised an eyebrow as I looked over to the side of the staircase by the dining room. The basement door was open a crack. I had never really seen it open before¡­ and it had become something of a meme that I had never been in the basement. Not half because her house had been air-dropped into position. Its existence was an even bigger mystery than how we had running water.


    That said, a gym was no place for a kitten - where everything in there could fall and squish the tiny monster. As much as I hated to break a running gag, I¡¯m sure that Roxy would understand me dirtying her holy ground with my presence since it was in service of protecting Warlock.


    Even so, I walked over to the doorway with a great deal of trepidation.


    I pushed it open gently, and hit the light switch - illuminating a stone staircase leading down beneath the house. Odd, but I was well versed in magical bullshit by now. I stepped onto the first step and turned to look at the bottom. Another dozen or so plain steps, and there was another door - also slightly ajar.


    It was unlike the super to be so careless, but she had a lot on her mind recently with this new stage of our lives.


    [Warlock? Are you down here?]


    Silence greeted me, other than the reverb of my own voice from the enclosed space. I sighed and continued down. Perhaps now that I had broken the seal, I could actually use the gym with her rather than just sparring outdoors.


    I pressed the end of my gun-arm against the door and pushed it open gently, just in case the cat was there. On my left, another switch to hit to light up this dark underground space.


    Fluorescent lights pulsed as they flickered on, illuminating this surprisingly expansive space.


    I turned my head slowly, scanning the area. There was no cat in sight, but¡­


    This wasn¡¯t a gym, either.

 132 - Pinned for Later

    The light from the coffee shop illuminated the sidewalk where I stood. While I drummed my fingers on my side, I tried to look as nonchalant as possible. There were a surprising number of people still out this late at night, and I wasn¡¯t dense enough to ignore the fact that my presence had increased the crowd gathering within the glowing cafe. Not that anyone had the confidence to talk to me directly yet, which I was thankful for.


    I had spent the majority of my first patrol just wandering around, mostly on the rooftops. That was largely the idea, even if it was underwhelming and inefficient. Other than almost crashing through two roofs and missing one landing that would have been embarrassing if anyone had seen¡­ it had been uneventful.


    Leaving me to my thoughts over-


    A dull thud came from down the road, and I turned my head to see Roxy. A minor jump that hadn¡¯t dealt any damage to the point of impact.


    ¡°Evening, Gunquake,¡± she said with a smile. ¡°Fancy seeing you here.¡±


    [Indeed. I was hoping we could actually find somewhere with a little more privacy.]


    She stopped in front of me, putting her hands on her hips and grinning at the wide window. The civilians inside did their best to appear as if they weren¡¯t gawking at us. ¡°Oh, not camera shy all of a sudden, I hope?¡±


    [I went down into the basement today.]


    ¡°Oh.¡± Her smile wavered, and she turned to face me, her expression frozen. ¡°I could go for a stroll then, to find somewhere quiet.¡±


    Somewhere still in view of security cameras, I hoped.


    Roxy looped her arm around mine, and we starting walking down the sidewalk. If the mission was to preempt our relationship reveal, then we were sure to get chins wagging by walking lockstep together on such a beautiful night that had zero tension at all. Aside from how stiff the super was walking.


    I had to give her credit - the basement did have gym equipment in it. The situation was more of a lie by omission, rather than straight up mistruth. She occasionally convinced Clara to have a brief workout session down there, so it all seemed reasonable.


    We continued in silence, crossing at a junction, aimlessly wandering for¡­ as long as our mandated break lasted.


    [When were you going to tell me?]


    She exhaled through her nose. ¡°It was always one of those¡­ there was never a good time, right? Then it got to the point of being a running gag, so I hoped to just ignore it.¡±


    [It¡¯s not exactly ignorable, is it?]


    We stopped our walk by a darkened alleyway, and Roxy let go of my arm to turn and face me. ¡°It can be. It¡¯s not¡­ I was never going to¡­¡±


    [You understand the danger, though. For all of us.]


    ¡°Of course.¡± She sighed again and shook her head. ¡°Want to hash this out over a ''workout'' after our patrols are done?¡±


    I looked around. We weren¡¯t entirely alone, even if we weren¡¯t being hounded by a group of fans. The city had ears and eyes all over the place. Whatever we were going to decide, it could wait until we were in the privacy of our own home.


    [Sure. It might help me work off some stress.]


    Roxy gave me an awkward nod. ¡°Stay safe on the rest of your patrol, Gunquake.¡±


    I watched as she stepped away, before leaping up into the air. There was one very important question left unasked, which would determine much of our future together, and as heroes. Probably not the date night she had envisioned¡­


    But then, she shouldn¡¯t have a creepy and problematic basement kept secret from me. I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, considering that I knew she was genuine with me - but the only other time I had seen something like this, it had been in a serial killer''s lair.


    Part of me knew it couldn¡¯t be anything too dire, given that I didn¡¯t think Clara would ever go against me. Probably.


    I sighed and shook off my head. Duty called. We¡¯d have the awkward conversation over why she had a large underground bunker full of tables and corkboards covered with hero pictures, patrol routes, known weaknesses, and other trivia later on. It was better to not let my imagination fill in the blanks.


    In keeping with my theme, I slunk into the shadowed alleyway. There were still a few hours of patrol work to do, and hopefully, the boredom wouldn¡¯t kill me. I¡¯d head up to the rooftop and see if I could-


    ¡°Spare any credits?¡±


    I stopped in place and turned my head to the man wrapped up in rags, sitting up against the alley wall. In fact, before I could respond, I recognized him as the very same person who I had seen before the graveyard fight.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s the hesitant hero.¡± His smile emerged from beneath his beard. ¡°Feeling any closer ties to the title yet?¡±


    [I¡¯ve come to the conclusion that actions speak louder than words. There¡¯s some peace in being sure I¡¯m doing the right thing, no matter what others believe.]


    He stretched out his legs and wiggled his bare toes. ¡°Ah, a philosopher as well as a freaky robot, are we?¡±


    [It helps to be flexible. What about you, will spare credits really help?]


    ¡°For the night, perhaps. Not¡­ everyone is a welcome cog in the workings of the city.¡± His face turned glum, without the usual resentment I¡¯d expect of such a statement.


    [I used to think that about myself too. Everything is subject to change.]


    ¡°Perhaps you could use that change to get me a sandwich, then. If your hands aren¡¯t too full.¡± He gestured down to the end of the alley where the street was illuminated - where I had just been talking to Roxy.


    [Nothing that will kill me. Stay put and I¡¯ll be back.]


    ¡°You truly are a hero,¡± he said as I walked away.


    There was a convenience store a short distance further than I had walked with the super, so wouldn¡¯t take me long to get him some supplies. Part of my patrol duty was helping the citizenry, so this felt like a valid use of my time. I would have thought with how much control the League of Heroes had over Goldarch, that things such as homelessness wouldn¡¯t be an issue. Except for extreme circumstances, perhaps.


    Or they just let things fester to keep the heroes and police busy.


    The sliding door let off a small beep as I entered. Not a shop I had been in before, so it took me a moment to determine what was down each aisle. Although I had plenty of eyes on me from the few customers out this late, it was certainly a different kind of stare than from before I was a known hero.


    Something about a cyborg dressed to the nines in tactical gear and having a gun-arm usually put shop owners on high alert. When I had awkwardly gathered the sought after items in my arms, I went and placed them on the counter.


    ¡°Gunquake,¡± the short man greeted me, a sparkle in his eyes. He was all smiles as he brought the first item to scan. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re about to go on a stakeout.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow and looked at the two full meals and the reusable heated blanket.


    [Just helping someone fill their stomach and sleep well tonight.]


    ¡°Charity work?¡± He clicked his tongue. ¡°My wife thinks you look like a mean old bastard, but I told her a man like that definitely has more demons to fight off than most, if only to protect a heart of gold.¡±


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    [Perhaps you¡¯re both a little correct.]


    He chuckled and finished packing up the last of my goods, taking it as some lighthearted banter. I swiped away the credits and left with a nod of thanks. That went well. The League had sent me plenty of material on how to interact with the public, but I skipped it and figured I¡¯d just be myself. Or at least the side of me who didn¡¯t want to murder everything in my way.


    I walked back down the street and into the alley, stopping at the place I had previously been standing. The man was gone.


    My eyes swept down into the darkness, but I couldn¡¯t spot him. Nightvision clicked on in my goggles, but I was still alone down here. I sighed and placed the bag down where he had been sitting. Either he¡¯d come back or someone else would hopefully find and make use of it all.


    I raised my left arm and fired out my grapple; the line pulling me up to the closest rooftop. There was still plenty of time to burn before going home and accosting Roxy over her display of detailed stats. While I didn¡¯t linger around in the basement long enough to peruse all of her gathered data, I did pause by the wall-mounted board that had the Natural Disasters pinned.


    She had drawn a heart around the picture of me, which normally would be a rather endearing find¡­ but in the context of the room as a whole, I wanted to make sure she wasn¡¯t planning on eating my skin or anything weirder.


    Yet still, the sharp end of the pointed question prickled at my mind once more.


    Was she part of the World Government?


    It seemed unlikely at best, but the thought lingered. It was the perfect double agent set up, and the Gov would love to have such extensive information on all the active heroes here. But so would any villain or other force intending on causing trouble in Goldarch.


    I¡¯d just have to let my imagination work up worse scenarios for the next few hours.


    I paused at the edge of the next roof, already four streets away from where I saw the homeless man. A bright blue line sped down the road from further down, sliding to a stop below me.


    [Captain Snaps, to what do I owe the pleasure?]


    The speedster gave me a quick salute, grinning up at me from the ground below. ¡°My patrol just started, and I overlap your area a little. Wanted to check up on my teammate.¡±


    I shrugged and jumped from the roof, landing in a crouch as my legs burst out the V-Force energy necessary to keep me safe.


    Roy whistled. ¡°Impressive. You seem to get more powerful every time you get back up from being knocked down. I do know your one weakness, however¡­¡±


    After righting myself, I dusted down my trenchcoat.


    [Which is?]


    ¡°Checking your calendar. I sent you an invitation to patrol together for an hour earlier today.¡± He gestured to the empty street. ¡°Of course, if you prefer the brooding loner bit¡­¡±


    [No, I¡¯d appreciate the company, actually. It might prevent me from getting in trouble.]


    There wasn¡¯t much chance of that, to be honest. We both knew this. Now that things were slowly getting more settled, however, it was nice to actually spend time with my group members when outside of missions. The parties were great, but I usually took a back seat in those and let the louder ones talk.


    So, for the next hour, we walked and talked. He showed me around some of the sketchier parts of the patrol area that I should be mindful of and filled my head with plenty of tricks and tips he had picked up over the years. For the most part, they weren¡¯t that useful - but I appreciated the effort all the same.


    We even went over some of his past experience in the military. It was something we had a common connection over, to some degree. I wondered if he reminded me of anyone from my past, which would explain why I had trusted him to save me when I had prostrated myself in that underground pit fight. Or I was just crazy, it was hard to tell some days.


    The time went by quickly, our conversation actually overrunning our allotted patrol-together plan. Not that it really mattered for the speedster, as he was able to align with his assigned route with running for a couple of seconds.


    I had one last area to get through before my job was done. Apparently, I¡¯d even get paid for this, which seemed like a waste. I hadn¡¯t shed any blood or made any arrests. Had even failed to help someone in need, although that wasn¡¯t for the lack of trying.


    Grapple zipped me up to the rooftops once more. The improved version was impressive, with the techie able to reduce the size of the Foam tips it required and added a self-reloading system with enough ammo to last hours of use. Additionally, the custom boots basically had no sole, allowing my feet to vent energy without destroying the footwear.


    I was really coming into my own.


    //Clara: What did you do to make Rockslide so nervous?


    //Clara: She hasn¡¯t stopped pacing since getting home, Gunquake.


    //Dubs: I went into the basement.


    //Clara: Oh.


    The fact that she didn¡¯t say anything after that didn¡¯t fill me with much confidence. Then again, that might be her intention. If the defense tech turrets shredded me on approach, then I¡¯d know my paranoia had some merit.


    I sighed and checked the time. A well-earned retreat to the Meteor and my patrol would be over. Something that happened without issue. I had made it through my first patrol without losing limbs or stumbling into violence. Stacy hadn¡¯t checked back about my meeting with Kingston, which was annoying.


    Back door of the vehicle closed, and I sat in the driver''s seat. Clara hadn¡¯t offered to drive me home and was either focused on my new arm or preparing my demise. I drove home, loading a Sanguine stake into the chamber. Always be prepared.


    Something that would be amusing in retrospect, as I was likely to go along with whatever the super wanted. I loved her and was only a short push away from falling into my old ways. Between us, our strengths were nigh unparallel.


    Even knowing that, I felt tense as I eventually pulled up beside the warehouse. Turrets allowed it.


    Stepping out of the back, I was unsurprised to see the super waiting for me in the garden. Still in her hero outfit. Concern clear on her face, and arms crossed. I could shoot her now, before she had a chance to react.


    I took a few steps and stopped. Warlock emerged from the grass and scampered across the dirt toward me, eyes looking at me as he mewed. We shouldn¡¯t fight in front of him. I kneeled down and scooped the cat up into my arm.


    [Honey, I¡¯m home.]


    Whatever wall Roxy had been trying to maintain crumbled in an instant, and she deflated. Rubbed at her head as she sighed. ¡°Gods damn it, Dubs. What a dumb fucking mess. C¡¯mon, follow me.¡±


    There was no need to guess where she was about to lead me, and I followed on. Warlock seemed content enough in my grip, which helped to keep me calm. In silence, we both went into the house and over to the basement door. Down the stairs, and into the gym.


    ¡°So¡­ there are some things I¡¯ll need to explain.¡± She crossed her arms again and pulled a face at the walls filled with printouts, photos, and news clippings.


    [You realize that you gave me shit about my kill house, yet you had cultivated this serial killer''s wet dream?]


    Roxy rolled her eyes. ¡°Yes. Fuck, Dubs. I appreciate how you¡¯re trying to diffuse the situation, but please hear me out.¡±


    I gestured for her to continue, which was just me gently waving the now sleeping cat at her. Seemed better than raising my gun-arm while things were so tense.


    ¡°So, uh, you¡¯re probably wondering first off if I was planning on using all this information to kill supers. I was not.¡± Her eyes went along the walls. ¡°It certainly could be, and one of the reasons I¡¯ve kept it secret as this trove of shit could be very useful to the wrong people.¡±


    [Who would the wrong people be?]


    She bit her tongue. ¡°Well¡­ anyone who isn¡¯t me.¡±


    [So you¡¯re not the World Government mole?]


    ¡°Fuck no.¡± Roxy shook her head. ¡°I can see why you might get that impression, nor did I build this database to find the mole¡­ although it might be useful for that as well.¡±


    I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow. That ruled out the worst and best answers, in my opinion.


    ¡°The mission to get you in the League¡¯s pocket was meant to be my last redemption after being a fuckup for so long. I was¡­ angry at them all and started this as soon as I moved here. I wanted to meta game the ranking bullshit. Build something I could work from.¡± She pointed at one of the tables where an odd map was laid out. ¡°But there were so many other things that I had planned, it became too much to handle.¡±


    [You considered turning villain.]


    She froze in place, only her eyes moved to meet mine. ¡°I won¡¯t lie. Yeah, at one point. I was sure I¡¯d fuck up recruiting you, so there were only a few options left at that point. Kiss every ass in the League, or go rogue.¡±


    [Instead, you chose the third option of falling in love.]


    I nodded toward the picture of me on the board of Natural Disasters.


    ¡°You¡¯re impossible,¡± she said with a sigh. ¡°Sure, you kinda fucked several of my plans to the point where I didn¡¯t really need this at all.¡±


    [Hell, this is perfect. Now we can easily kill off the groups ranked higher than us.]


    ¡°That is exactly why I didn¡¯t want to tell you about it.¡± Roxy scowled at me. ¡°Even joking about it is beyond the pale now. We¡¯re settled and accepted.¡±


    [But if the League ever fucks us over or tries to serve us up to the World Gov¡­]


    ¡°They¡¯d regret it.¡± She sighed again. ¡°The ones that survived would, anyway.¡±


    It was an impressive amount of work she had put together. While it wasn¡¯t one-hundred percent filled out with every single hero and their strengths and weaknesses, it gave a lot more information than the database that Clara had stolen.


    I stepped across the room slowly, eyeing up the pictures and names. The team I had seen at the League HQ the other day was here. Reminded me of wanted posters. Each picture with attached stats a kill contract that paid nothing, yet was so tempting. I stopped by the heart-encircled picture of me. An old one, from before I had a super suit.


    [It says here that you consider me ¡®weak as shit¡¯. Then it says ¡®huge potential¡¯¡­ and then ¡®also, huge-]


    ¡°Alright, Dubs,¡± she snapped. ¡°It¡¯s rude to read someone¡¯s diary, you know. I¡¯m sorry I¡¯ve kept this as a secret from you for so long¡­ and been so cagey about explaining it. You probably thought the worst¡­¡±


    [I understand it. This was something close to you, even though it was created during a dark time. One last secret to use in an emergency, when all else fails. Most people have armor or technology to protect them. Maybe a last-ditch skill or weapon. For a woman with immense strength and high damage resistance, the way you keep yourself feeling safe is this paranoid over-planning.]


    Roxy stood in place for a few seconds, absorbing what I had said. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ a motherfucker, Dubs. Seriously, fuck you.¡± She stepped forward and put her arms around me, being careful not to squish the cat. ¡°I should have known you¡¯d understand.¡±


    It was more than just understanding. It was acceptance. While there might have been a nefarious reason for building the serial killer info-dump room at points, it was her own coping mechanism for whenever she felt powerless in life. Much less violent than my own.


    But now we could use this for our advantage, if she let me. Two heads were better than one, and maybe we could use this to get a step up over the competition. Maybe even search for the mole.


    While we continued to hug, my eyes went up to the wall opposite.


    Amongst several pictures of solo heroes I had never seen was one of Roxy¡¯s ex.


    As well as his full name, powers, and his weaknesses.

 133 - Question of Intent

    I hummed to myself as the smell of fresh coffee wafted through the kitchen on this beautiful sunny morning. The super sat across from me, eating her way through some porridge with a smile on her face. Clara was putting down some food for the kitten, but had enough time to shoot us both a glare.


    ¡°The pair of you are way too chipper this morning, and I¡¯d hate to imagine why.¡± She stood up as Warlock dug in to his breakfast.


    ¡°Just a huge weight off my shoulders,¡± Roxy explained. ¡°You knew how I felt about my¡­ information chamber.¡±


    ¡°I thought the fact that you¡¯d hide it from Gunquake was preposterous, but was duty-bound to keep your secret.¡± The techie shrugged and sat at the table. ¡°Now that it¡¯s out in the open, I hope we can use it for something more useful than making you look insane, Rockslide.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps. I¡¯m not much of a detective, so actually using all those facts for something useful was¡­¡± She ran her tongue around her teeth in thought. ¡°Unlikely.¡±


    [I wouldn¡¯t sell myself as a private eye either, but I¡¯m sure we can work out some use for all that information.]


    ¡°Other than plotting to murder everyone,¡± Clara murmured.


    It did look like the second half of my murder-hovel. While I had the grim decay of a serial killer, Roxy had the fervent planning and manic desire to scrape every detail about our potential targets. Paired together, well, we were both a boon and a possible detriment to the runnings of Goldarch.


    [What do you reckon, Clara? Do you think the three of us could make it as villains?]


    The techie pulled a face. ¡°No. Our location is disadvantageous unless we retreated further into the wastelands. The League has at least five ways they could kill us through our defenses without affecting the city - if they knew we had gone rogue.¡±


    I had no reason to doubt her. We thought that we were big shots, but there must be an upper crust of power we hadn¡¯t even crossed paths with yet. Aside from chemical bombs and other traditional ways of wiping us off the map, there were probably a few supers that could ruin our day before we''d even perfected our evil cackles.


    ¡°League is just lucky they won us over,¡± Roxy said, as she put down her spoon. ¡°If we put our brains to it, the three of us could be real dangerous.¡±


    [Do you think the Natural Disasters would join us?]


    The super pulled a face. ¡°Hard to say. They¡¯re friends and more loyal than most super groups are, but¡­ we¡¯re talking about making enemies with some of the most powerful people on the continent. League is a shitter sometimes, but it¡¯s better to be coddled by them than to be opposed.¡±


    Plus, we¡¯d be kind of on our own if that was the case. World Government wanted me dead or captured and was even harsher on rogue supers than the League of Heroes were. As much as I thought we could hold our own better than most, going against the world wasn¡¯t on the cards.


    [Speaking of that, my constant troll has started referring to us as Natural Dicktasters. That feels illegal.]


    Roxy rolled her eyes and stood. She turned and put her bowl in the sink. ¡°I thought you¡¯d have thicker skin, babe. You¡¯re not going to let some weasel with a dirty mouth ruin the day, I hope? I¡¯m going to go do some laps. Wanna join?¡±


    I grunted.


    [No, thank you. Normally I would, but after a long patrol last night I want to give my legs a rest, just in case.]


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± The super leaned over the counter and gave me a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room.


    Once I was sure she had left the house and started her jog, I raised an eyebrow at the techie.


    [I¡¯m going to need you to get me his address.]


    ¡°Are we talking about the troll, or perhaps some other figure whose information you read from Rockslide¡¯s database?¡± Clara crossed her arms, knowing what was down there and what I could have seen.


    I hadn¡¯t brought up that I¡¯d seen the name of Roxy¡¯s ex with either of them. Not that I planned on doing anything with that information at present. Much like a Sanguine stake, it was some ammunition I¡¯d save for when the time really required it. I had much bigger fish to fry than that asshole.


    [The troll. Bumquake.]


    ¡°I¡¯ll remind you that despite being a tech prodigy and literal genius, I am not a computer hacker, Gunquake.¡±


    [It¡¯s fine - I can find someone else if you¡¯re not able to help me.]


    Clara rolled her eyes and sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll get you the information, but you have better things to do. Do you not? Have you checked the headlines?¡±


    [I have not. Anything bad?]


    ¡°The most relevant would be speculation about you and Rockslide being a couple, and there¡¯s a story about how you were pretending to do charity work as you just dumped items in an alley.¡±


    [Media is bullshit. This is why I need to take things into my own hand. Send me the information when you can.]


    I got up and left the room before she could respond, mostly for dramatic effect. The truth was that I didn¡¯t mind if people insulted me, but bringing the rest of the group into it crossed the line. If the League was trying to sell me as an anti-hero, then I¡¯d play that part a lot better than trying to be straight-edge.


    It was my day off, and Roxy had her patrol mid-afternoon till late evening. Clara had some work with Doctor Jarl planned. I had time to kill and a mounting list of enemies. Maybe not enemies. Just people that needed putting in their place.


    My eyes went up to a notification pinging through.


    //Stacy: Good news, Gunquake.


    //Stacy: Director Kingston has just had some availability open up.


    //Stacy: If you¡¯re able to get to HQ in an hour?


    //Gunquake: Not a problem, I¡¯ll be there.


    Well, there was something for me to do - and an excuse to be in the city. I sent the details over to Roxy to let her know, and then I went up to the bathroom to start getting ready for my meeting.


    Fully suited up, it turned out to be more difficult to drive the Meteor around the city during the daytime. If we hadn¡¯t been plastered all over the news for a couple of days, people might assume they were under attack. I had asked Clara if we could get away with having a cannon or something attached on top, but the League had a hard no stance on that amount of weaponry.


    A detachable weapon, so that we could arm ourselves for the wasteland, was a different matter. As it stood, I just had to avoid running straight over civilian vehicles. Stressful, but with some focus I was entirely successful.


    Parking it was an issue as well, so as I cursed the hulking vehicle outside of HQ, I made note to use the motorbike during the day.


    I sat outside the Director¡¯s office, aching to know the next time we¡¯d be put to our secondary task. Things might not be settled enough yet, but the machinations of those opposing Goldarch weren¡¯t going to wait for my schedule to clear up.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    The door opened up, and I stood to enter. His long office had the usual display screens running along it, showing off stocks, popularity ratings, and hero rankings. Graphs and percentage trends. I didn¡¯t care much about the data at this stage. My purpose here was entirely different.


    ¡°Gunquake,¡± he said, gesturing for me to sit opposite him, across his cluttered table. ¡°A pleasure, as always. My apologies for not being able to see you sooner.¡±


    [Not an issue. There are many gears keeping the city running, the squeakiest shouldn¡¯t get the most attention.]


    ¡°Depends how functionally important they are,¡± he replied with a wry smile. He flexed out his fingers and used an ability. The walls shimmered with a faint glow, signaling we had increased privacy here. ¡°I assume this isn¡¯t a social call.¡±


    [I¡¯ve come to request some equipment.]


    He tilted his head. ¡°There are other official avenues for that sort of thing. I do not personally tick the boxes off on what you can or can¡¯t have.¡±


    [But you can put those boxes in front of people who are eager tickers.]


    Kingston steepled his fingers. ¡°Perhaps. What is it you are asking from me, Gunquake? The other Directors are already alert about you getting preferential treatment, and you should be thankful we have turned a blind eye over the A-Grade legs you received.¡±


    [I¡¯d still be bed-bound if it wasn¡¯t for the graces of Doctor Jarl. The League should be thankful that I¡¯m not out of commission given the other assistance I provide.]


    ¡°Fair. If I come across as a wet blanket, it is because the politics of the inner machinations of the League are often tiring and juvenile. I admire your pragmatic view and intentions, but if I could just snap my fingers and have a hero solve all my problems, it would have been done years ago.¡±


    [Maybe there are some problems I could solve, to ease your mind.]


    He sighed. ¡°What is it you are after, first?¡±


    [I¡¯ve long been allergic to bullets, and I feel it¡¯s going to affect my work life.]


    ¡°A common weakness. For some heroes more than others, but I¡¯ll admit your work will put you in contention with those armed as such at a higher frequency that other heroes.¡± Kingston furrowed his brow. ¡°There¡¯s been an increase in illegal firearms in the city over the last few weeks.¡±


    [You don¡¯t know who is providing them?]


    ¡°No.¡± He leaned back in his chair. ¡°Contrary to the belief of cynics, the League does not control or influence all criminal activity within Goldarch. When it comes to unregistered weaponry, there tends to be an unacceptable amount of collateral to the general public.¡±


    [Sign off on me getting something defensive, and I¡¯ll find out who is importing the guns and stop them. Your choice on how many fatalities.]


    ¡°Zero, Gunquake.¡± Kingston shook his head. ¡°Always zero when within city limits, especially now that you¡¯re a recognizable hero. If you get caught murdering¡ªno matter who¡ªI won¡¯t be able to save you. You¡¯ll be locked up or banished.¡±


    [I¡¯m a vigilante, though - right? I can still be somewhat of an asshole.]


    ¡°If you can manage to be likable enough for the general public to root for you, then being rough around the edges is fine. I saw the news article about you feigning care, and that won¡¯t win you any favors. Thankfully, it was one of the¡­ lesser news outlets that is only read by those that crave drama and aren''t as picky about the facts.¡±


    [All the outlets with more journalistic integrity are owned by the League of Heroes?]


    He smiled. ¡°There are many heroes that go soft, placated with the easier life we provide them. I hope you are able to stay so sharp once the life or death stakes start becoming a distant memory.¡±


    No chance of that when he wanted me to go on missions against mutants and the World Government. If anything, my nicer life back home just made me want to get stronger to ensure I could keep it safe. It wasn¡¯t enough that we were a strong, nigh indestructible hero, a regenerating super soldier, tech mastermind, and affable kitten. We could be more. My eyes went over to the group ranking list. There we were, at the bottom still.


    But not for long.


    [Do I need to worry about going into the wastelands anytime soon?]


    ¡°Nothing is on the cards as of yet. The Gov seems to be taking a step back from things after your last few exploits. That, or planning something we haven¡¯t had eyes or ears on.¡±


    [Will they know that¡­ I¡¯m me?]


    The Director hesitated for a moment before answering. ¡°I do not know. Given your change of appearance from before your surgeries, it isn¡¯t likely. It depends on how much spying they do. How effective their League moles are.¡±


    My mind switched back to the basement. There were a decent number of people who knew who I used to be. Roxy, Clara, Doc Jarl, and the rest of the Natural Disasters. Boss. Even Kingston himself, and possibly others in the League.


    It made me want to find the mole, if only to silence them myself.


    [Understood. Do we have a deal about the bullet protection?]


    ¡°I can¡¯t shake on it,¡± he said, smiling. ¡°Giving you the reward before the task is complete isn¡¯t how things are done here, but you¡¯ll probably need it if you are going against the smugglers. At the least, you¡¯d need to find out who and where they are before I can sign off on anything.¡±


    [Consider it done.]


    It wasn¡¯t the guarantee I¡¯d been hoping for, but I was always up for doing a little criminal gang busting if it meant a long-term boost to my capabilities. Doing the actual detective work might be an issue, especially if it wasn¡¯t something in my district¡­ but I had some extra energy to burn.


    I nodded and stood up to leave.


    ¡°Oh, was that it for now, Gunquake?¡±


    [Yes, thank you. I have a prior engagement that I must make my way over to.]


    He stood and gestured with his hands, removing the privacy barrier for his office. ¡°Nothing too strenuous, I hope?¡±


    [Not at all. A little community outreach to build up my character profile.]


    <hr>


    Or at least, it was one specific member of the community I hoped to reach out to. The wind buffeted my trenchcoat as I stood on the edge of the roof. My eyes were in my messages, triple checking the address.


    Clara had queried if I wanted to do this at night instead. Sure, it would have suited my theme a little better - but there was a juxtaposition to me doing this in broad light. Hopefully it would drive the message home a little better.


    I closed down my STAR windows and ran my eyes across the apartment building across the street from me. Counted the windows twice, just to be sure. I couldn¡¯t afford a mishap.


    With one long sigh, I rolled out my shoulders before raising my left arm. Grapple shot out, and I stepped off of the edge of the building. It connected higher up on the tall structure across the road, and I swung like a pendulum.


    I lifted my legs up in time for the impact.


    With a crash, I burst in through a window, landing in the room with the hiss of my legs expelling energy. Loose paperwork and dust swirled around my entrance as I turned to the panicked figure on the bed.


    A man, old enough to know better. Still in bed in the early afternoon, with a laptop that fell from the sheets to land upon a raft of empty drink cans on the floor. After seeing who exactly was standing in front of him, he froze in place, half-way between trying to hide beneath the covers and running for the doorway.


    [Bumquake, I assume?]


    He just made a squeaking noise. There was always a chance that I had been incorrect and landed in the wrong apartment, but the amount of Baron Blast memorabilia plastered to the walls and covering every shelf gave me the confidence to know I was in the right place.


    The Baron himself had apparently retired almost a decade ago¡ªaccording to a brief conversation with Roxy¡ªbut the hero had goggles and an almost comically large sawn-off shotgun. Some slight similarities, but Baron Blast had a red and black theme, and actual hands and a face. It seemed short-sighted to compare me to him.


    [I¡¯ve been informed that you have been talking shit about my team. That is unacceptable.]


    He nodded his head briefly, but hadn¡¯t blinked once since I had appeared.


    [The League doesn¡¯t let me kill little mouthy shits like you, but perhaps if I broke those fingers you wouldn¡¯t be able to spread such vitriol online?]


    The man shook his head, this time with more energy.


    [Oh? You disagree? You think that you¡¯d be able to type still. Huh. Want to workshop a different punishment with me instead, then?]


    I stepped toward the bed, crushing empty food containers and dented cans flat. The V-Force drives in my arm and legs powered up, filling the room with an ominous thrumming. Chamber wasn¡¯t loaded, but against a civilian there was hardly a point. A fight between me and someone normal was like Roxy fighting¡­ well, most people.


    My detractor whined and tried to sink further into his covers. I put one foot up on the end of his bed and leaned forward, shaking my head.


    [So much to say behind the mask of anonymity, but in person you are a silent mouse. Do you not want to call me names anymore?]


    Not even a peep from him.


    [I¡¯m all about redemption arcs, so perhaps you can prove me wrong about you. I¡¯ll give you one last chance to turn things around. Quit being a shithead. If I ever see you disparage my group again, then I¡¯m coming back, and neither the police nor the League could prevent what I¡¯d do to you¡­ that''s if you were ever found again. Nod if you understand.]


    He did nod, eagerly.


    [Good. Very good. You made the first step. Don¡¯t stumble now.]


    I stepped away from his bed and approached the shattered window. Grappling hook went out, and I was taken away from the apartment to land up on one of the nearby buildings. All things told, I considered that some character growth. I hadn¡¯t murdered him. Roxy and the others would surely pale at what I had just done, but the League wanted me to be an anti-hero.


    There was no requirement to be courageous, virtuous, or stick to the rules the League made us follow. I just had to get results and do the right thing. Cyberbullying was probably a crime, and if not, then I¡¯d be breaking a lot of fingers in the near future. I had a¡­ distinct desire to protect my squad. My family and friends. Even from empty words by those too opinionated to take seriously.


    While the police and onlookers arrived to gawk at the hole I had left in the apartments, I took a stroll away from the scene. Eyes went up to my STAR, expecting a telling-off to be on the way already.


    Instead, it was the mission briefing for our duo mission tomorrow.


    I paused in place and went through the details. Internally, I smiled.


    Potential blood and violence. Our kind of date night.

 134 - Work Night

    Roxy placed down her cup of coffee on the side of the squat rack and rubbed at her eyes.


    ¡°I just don¡¯t see how that turned into a net positive for you.¡±


    I shrugged. It had taken almost a full twenty-four hours before the news of my exploits had met the super¡¯s ears. Maybe the League needed time to spin it, but the story was pretty accurate to what had gone down. There were certainly a few loud voices who didn¡¯t appreciate me breaking, entering, and leveling threats at the populace.


    But on the whole, people were supportive. Not only were heroes generally well-liked by the public, but there had been a specific streak of anti-cyberbullying sentiment among the public as of late. The news that I had put an online troll in their place was received with praise. It was good for the League in general for their heroes to take the high road and be above petty squabbles, but there was space for one asshole.


    [Sorry I didn¡¯t let you know sooner. I figured you would have tried to stop me.]


    ¡°Of course. It was a terrible idea.¡± She leaned against the gym equipment and sighed. ¡°But I trust that you know what you¡¯re doing. That said, you¡¯re probably the only person that could get away with it.¡±


    [Good. The League doesn¡¯t need a whole gang of wild animals on their roster.]


    ¡°But there¡¯s enough space for one asshole?¡±


    I nodded. Although we were mostly on the same page usually, since the basement reveal it appeared we were sharing even more of our handful of brain cells. Roxy was more relaxed than ever. Knowing how her power might work like a pendulum, that was a good thing, if not slightly concerning.


    My eyes went around the room, taking in all the pictures and information she had collected.


    [I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t remove his information.]


    The super raised an eyebrow and looked over at the photo of her ex. ¡°Hmm? Oh, I didn¡¯t see the point. You were going to find out either way and hiding it makes it feel suspicious. He¡¯s an asshole, but he lives in the past. We have more important shit to deal with.¡±


    [Like our date night.]


    ¡°Like our duo mission.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll have some fun with it, but it¡¯s not a date.¡±


    [Oh. You¡¯ll have to excuse me while I go make some cancelations, then.]


    Roxy glared at me as I set off for the stairs. Her expression changed once she realized I wasn¡¯t going to turn back. ¡°Wait, Dubs. What did you book?¡±


    [Nothing. Don¡¯t worry about it.]


    ¡°Dubs?¡±


    I was already halfway up the stairs, unable to hear the murmured curses. Given that the purpose of the mission was to get the both of us some limelight together before our talk show appearance tomorrow, it was difficult to consider it a normal mission. It wasn¡¯t even a difficult one, given how strong we were.


    A gang had taken over an abandoned warehouse and were trying to repurpose discarded robotics to make some manner of exo-suit or something. Considering we had fought against the ancient nigh-indestructible mechs before, I was sure whatever the criminals had cobbled together wouldn¡¯t pose much of a threat.


    Especially with Roxy there. I seemed like more of an accessory at that point, with how our power levels still differed. That said, I would catch her up. Clara would make sure of it, no matter what it took. Once I had some better defense and my new arm, my effectiveness should rise by a great deal.


    I stepped through into the lobby and paused by the kitchen. Doctor Jarl was in the living room, sitting on the couch and looking rather exhausted.


    [Everything okay?]


    He blinked and turned his head to me. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m just¡­ I¡¯m not sure how Clara has the energy for how much she works. And the things she conceptualizes¡­¡±


    [Like the war-crime things?]


    ¡°No.¡± He paused and furrowed his brow. ¡°Although, yes, those too. But it¡¯s more the application of knowledge. While she doesn¡¯t have the technical experience, she is constantly finding novel solutions to problems that someone like me is too set in their practiced ways to consider.¡±


    [She had you sign a non-disclosure agreement as well, correct?]


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I sighed and left the house. There wasn¡¯t much preparation I needed to do for the mission, so I planned to take it easy. Part of me was apprehensive about the talk show tomorrow, but that was mostly due to the coaching I¡¯d have to give Roxy. Not that I wanted anything out of her other than to be genuine - but there were a few facts about how we met and the like that we needed to iron out before getting questioned about it.


    No doubt I¡¯d get a few questions leveled my way, given I was previously such an unknown in the city. For a man with no mouth, I had no worries about talking and winning over the crowd.


    Warlock was lying on the garden table, spread out and absorbing the sunshine. I pulled out a chair and sat down by him.


    [Feels strange to be¡­ accomplished, in a way.]


    I let the silence sit as the kitten paid me zero attention. His presence was enough. That and the odd connection to one of my old friends I had labored him with.


    [Despite the sins of my past, I know I deserve happiness and a future. But I¡¯m not too blinded by the haze of contentedness to ignore the fact that there are people who want to take that away from me.]


    With a sigh through my re-breather, I relaxed and looked up at the blue sky. The warmth was nice. It was quiet out here, and for a moment I felt like I had no cares in the world. Eventually, I closed my eyes.


    [Let them try.]


    <hr>


    Roxy¡¯s short cape fluttered in the breeze as the pair of us stood at the edge of a building overlooking the warehouse.


    ¡°Do I get to look forward to only going on night missions as well now?¡± she asked, raising an eyebrow at me.


    I shrugged. Not really my call, but it suited me. The others in the group weren¡¯t as used to it as I was, although I was pretty sure that they had the occasional night patrol. This was my bread and butter, and the inclusion of the super changed the way I approached the mission.


    [There are more exit points than anticipated. Runners might be likely.]


    ¡°I¡¯ll call in police assistance to cordon off the area and catch them. Our avenue of entrance?¡±


    Given our power set, we could basically have our pick of how to engage with the enemy. Even knocking through a wall or crater through the roof. Unfortunately, the risk of killing a criminal in the process was too high.


    [I¡¯ll go in through the upper window. You take the main door. We¡¯ll meet up inside on the warehouse floor.]


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Alright, sounds good.¡± She stretched out her arms. ¡°On your word, then.¡±


    As much as this duo mission was to get some good publicity of us as a pair before being seen on the show, it wasn¡¯t as though we were going to stand about smooching and fawning over each other. We had both agreed that we stick to keeping things all business, as usual. Our work was something we took seriously. There was a ranking list to climb, and the next week or two of patrols, missions, and public appearances would determine if we could take ninth position or not.


    [Let¡¯s move.]


    Grapple went out as the super leaped into the air. It felt good to have some actual mobility now. A shame that I was one mistake away from smearing myself against the scenery, but my STAR helped calculate all the maths and physics behind it all. I just had to point and click, for the most part.


    The air rushed past me as I swung up and the end of the grapple disconnected. I fell for a second before hitting the roof of the warehouse, rolling to absorb the impact. Up to my feet, I walked to the edge of the roof. Grapple on the edge as Roxy landed in the debris-strewn parking lot. She looked up at me and gave me a nod - which I returned. I gave her a few seconds to reach the door before I turned around and jumped backward off the roof.


    Line swung me against a window, which I burst through. I then slid over a table cluttered with metal parts, arriving in a small room with two people in. They had stood to see what the large thump was out front and instead gotten a figurative flash bang as I made my entrance.


    Nerve shot into the first while the second grabbed at a large wrench from the space beside him. As the empty cartridge popped out the side of my gun-arm, the man swung for me. Clumsy and desperate. I sidestepped and grabbed his arm, pulling him past me while I reloaded. Nerve shot to the back of his head and he fell onto the table.


    They were dressed as expected. Grease covered clothing and overalls like mechanics, but a little rougher around the edges. A quick glance around the room didn¡¯t clue me in to what sort of robotics they were building, as everything here looked random or incomplete.


    //Clara: Rockslide is moving toward the rendezvous point.


    //Clara: Updating route.


    The STAR told me which way to go. From the wireframe estimate of the building, it looked like they¡¯d try to hold Roxy back at the entrance to the main workshop floor. Unfortunately for them, the staircase taking me down from this area came down into said workshop floor.


    I stepped toward the door leading out of this small room. Shouting and aggravated voices came from the other side. One of which was coming closer.


    One hand on my vest, I lashed out with my right foot. The force of some brief V-Force power popped the old door straight from the hinges, sending it into the figure approaching. As soon as it connected with a loud clang, the Flash grenade pulled from my torso went off.


    I sidestepped the blind-fire of a small pistol, hitting them with Nerve shot. Door guy was out cold. Third in the room had just cowered down. I strode over toward the door opposite, empty shell bouncing across the stone floor as I spent another Nerve shot to clear this space.


    One more room and then the corridor, and I¡¯d be able to descend the stairs.


    //Rockslide: Be careful, they are armed.


    //Gunquake: Understood.


    //Gunquake: Status?


    //Rockslide: Just waiting for my dance partner while they have me suppressed.


    //Gunquake: On my way.


    The super wasn¡¯t immune to bullets, but could weather them pretty well. So, even if she could solo this mission with no issue, she wasn¡¯t about to wade into a hail of bullets either way. Feigning being pinned so that I could join the fun was a little performative¡­ but so were a lot of things about being a hero.


    I kicked the next door out with my left leg. This one didn¡¯t collide with anyone, but slid across the floor until it hit the wall opposite. I ducked back around the corner as a few pistol shots whizzed through the open doorway. If I got hit, I¡¯d blame Kingston for being slow on giving me something usable.


    From my vest, I grabbed a Smoke grenade and dropped it by my feet. The dense cloud burst up around me, clouding through the door and partway into the next room. Of course, they were still trained on the entrance and if they had any sense, would stagger potshots through it to ensure I couldn¡¯t come through.


    I had other plans, of course. A few steps back and my right leg charged up. Chamber loaded up with a triple shot of Tazer. I lashed out and blew through the stonework, even as they fired through the fog at where they thought I¡¯d be. As soon as the debris was out of the way, I emptied my gun-arm.


    Lightning arcs crackled and split between the three figures and all the metalwork in the room, bouncing back and forth. They shook and were stunned. I emerged from the smoke and powdered wall to elbow the first in the head. Nerve shot into the one in the corner. I grabbed the third by his dirty bandana and slammed his head on the nearby table.


    The exit into the corridor was already opened, and I stepped into it. To the right was the start of the stairs leading down to the workshop. Over on my left were more rooms. I didn¡¯t have the time to sweep through each of them if I was going to-


    I rolled to the floor as someone peeked out of one of the doorways further down, letting off a salvo from a sub-machine gun. Ducking back into the room gave me enough cover, but prevented my route. Another Smoke grenade bloomed up around my location, and I turned and shot out the window.


    //Dubs: Do me the honors, please.


    //Clara: I thought you¡¯d never ask.


    The drone disconnected from my backpack and flew out of the opening I had made. I stretched out and waited for it. The sound of breaking glass down the hall came right before the shout of a man getting Tazered by the techie.


    //Clara: Clear.


    I stepped out into the smoke and made my way to the stairs. The harmony of shouting and gunfire came from below, echoing down this short chamber before the wall then opened up. Halfway down and I could see the main workshop floor. The edges were cluttered with tables and parts, but the space to my right¡ªthe back of the building¡ªhad been cleared for the construction of their¡­ robot.


    It had a similar blocky humanoid design as the ancient mechs we had faced, but it was much more mechanically amateur and exposed. Wires and pipes were clearly visible between gaps in grubby metal plates. Rather than being an autonomous being, it looked as though a human was meant to be placed in it, much like a large exo-suit where they could control the limbs with their own.


    The fact that one of them was partly in the process of being strapped in was the other clue to the operation of it.


    While a couple of the gang helped the potential pilot, the rest had flipped a couple of tables and were using them as cover to pepper wherever the super was. There were maybe a dozen of them armed with pistols and light machines guns. She must be somewhere on the left underneath these upper floors based on where they were aiming and firing.


    //Gunquake: Making my entrance now.


    //Rockslide: Ready.


    There was a gang member at the bottom of the staircase, and he looked up at me descending. Wide eyes, confused as he had been expecting allies and not whatever I Iooked like. My gun-arm came up, and I fired a Quake shot just behind him. Four of them were caught in the vibrating V-Force aura, and dropped their weapons.


    My grapple struck the next table and pulled me from the stairs. I activated both of my feet, bursting through the masses of robot parts and spreading shrapnel around two of the other shooters. Another table rushed through the air beside me as Roxy threw part of her cover. She struck three, knocking them down like bowling pins, without turning them into mush.


    Reflex burned through my synapses and I fired off six shots of Nerve into those remaining. The last shot hit some manner of shielding around the mech suit, saving the man locked into the tech.


    The whole machine groaned and pneumatic pistons hissed as it came to life. One arm came forward, the hand just four prongs designed for crushing. The end of the right spun up as a circular saw. Slowly, the mech took one heavy step forward, venting steam and sparking as it did so.


    ¡°I was talking to Roy,¡± the super said, tilting her head at our opponent. ¡°He says I should take up kickboxing to help with my offensive arsenal.¡±


    [Oh, I see. I get the ability to kick and now you¡¯re worried I might be better than you.]


    She scowled at me. ¡°Ass. I can already kick harder than you. It¡¯s so that I have an effective non-lava attack when my arms are powered.¡±


    [You didn¡¯t think to discuss this with your team leader?]


    The robot swung their big fist down at the super, the mechanical parts screaming as the full force of the hydraulic tech punched down. Roxy caught the blow in one hand, her arm barely flexing, as she continued to stare at me.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m doing now, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    A little put-on disagreement wasn¡¯t what the League were after, probably, but I didn¡¯t think they were inside watching us. As long as we exited with forlorn and smiling looks on our faces, it would sell the tale. I¡¯d do my best in that regard.


    The spinning saw arm lashed toward me. It stopped about two feet away, smoke and sparks sputtering from the working innards as it seized up. The drone hovered nearby, the second Tazer shot having saved me.


    Roxy twisted the mechanical arm, tearing it off from the shoulder joint. Hydraulic fluid and oil spurted from the robot like it was a flesh wound. I fired a Tazer into the left leg and then kicked it, causing the machine to topple. As it hunched over, I reached in and grabbed the man inside. Brought him in for a headbutt. Out cold.


    ¡°I kind of like it when you fight dirty,¡± the super said, crossing her arms.


    I grunted and looked around at the workshop. Other than a few injured criminals groaning, the job had been done. I had been worried that we might have missed some upstairs, but the message from Clara came in before I could vocalize it.


    //Clara: All clear.


    //Clara: Top floor checked already. Cordon is in place.


    //Clara: Hand over when ready.


    [Well, perhaps I can show you a few other moves later?]


    She gave me a wry grin and rolled her eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t get much of a workout here, so perhaps we can find another way to use up some energy.¡±


    While our spirits were high as we left the building, the parking lot now awash with the flashing light of the local police, there was a very real problem that we were both ignoring.


    The true thing that we would be using our energy for tonight. Something we couldn''t¡ªor at least shouldn''t¡ªfight our way out of.


    Preparing for the talk show tomorrow.

 135 - Conduct Yourself

    The League were happy enough with the mission results. No fatalities, and an acceptable amount of injuries. We weren''t called in for a debriefing. They had footage of the pair of us entering and exiting the building together, which had been circulating the web overnight. Paired with the brief shots of us outside the coffee shop, it was enough to get the rumors flowing.


    Seemed rather arbitrary to me. But I understood the League¡¯s thought process, even if I didn¡¯t necessarily care for it.


    Now that I sat in front of a large mirror, while some assistant pretended I needed stage makeup, I wondered if the clause in my contract had been worth it. Unfortunately, it was. If not for my insistence, they might not have validated our relationship publicly. I no longer wanted my life covered in shadows, so this all was necessary.


    Something Roxy was currently contending with as well, given the warmth I could feel coming from her. There had been some minor argument over how much makeup she had to wear, and if it was heat resistant enough. I had mostly turned it out, as I tried to focus on what we had to do here.


    The night after the mission had been spent going over rehearsed lines. This morning was more of the same. Talking it over and over again seemed to keep the super grounded, and even Clara avoided needling Roxy with annoyances. Stress levels were medium, but they seemed to cool once we arrived at the studio. We weren¡¯t live - but there was an audience. It allowed us some leeway to be imperfect, but we¡¯d need to be mindful of keeping the crowd on our side.


    It was a fluff piece, after all. Stacy was here to manage us and had delivered a cold dollop of advice into our overheating brains.


    The host of The Power of Love was Leyla Ann. Previously a socialite starlet that had landed this hosting gig almost a decade ago. The experience had given her a sharp edge, even if she played up the ditsy blonde act still. Catty and not afraid to bite back if she could see an advantage.


    At the end of the day, the League put us here for positive news generation. Leyla knew this and would push that boat out as much as she could, but her own motives were slightly more basic - even if similar. Gossip. While she wouldn¡¯t be an antagonistic host, she would definitely try to drum up enough engagement to make it worth having us on. It was all about the views, for both sides.


    I was starting to think I preferred situations I could solve with my gun-arm, but I had thanked Stacy for the information all the same. As much as this could be a career defining moment, there was something else that had been nagging at the back of my mind.


    This whole thing was set up by one of the Directors who was hoping I¡¯d fail. If they had done any homework, then they¡¯d know a simple speech encounter was something I¡¯d roll out of smelling of roses. Either they were deluded in thinking I was a half-brained thug, or I was about to learn a lesson on how much League politics sucked.


    ¡°Five minutes and you¡¯re on,¡± another assistant called to us both.


    Roxy reached out and gave my gun-arm a squeeze. ¡°Feeling good, Dubs?¡±


    I nodded, glad that we had to wear our full hero outfits. There would be a point where I could wear ¡®casual¡¯ clothing to these sorts of things, but so close to our reveal and rebrand, the League wanted us to make a showing of who we were. Who the public had to see.


    [Never better. My figurative tongue is my secret weapon.]


    She exhaled through her nose and smiled. ¡°Good. This is a bit of an intense first public speaking appearance for you, but I trust that you¡ªout of everyone I know¡ªwill remain calm and in control when pressed.¡±


    A statement that would have been more comforting if she wasn¡¯t still gripping onto my arm like I might make a bolt from the studio. I could see in her eyes that it was something she had been considering. Mostly, I was just impressed she could be that panicked yet still control her strength enough to not crush my shotgun. Another point toward her experience and competence.


    [Let¡¯s go break a leg.]


    We had been advised to remain cordial and play down any attempts to rile us up. Easy to say, and I believed we could ride out any jabs. Both of us had a bit of a temper under the right circumstances. How interesting it was that the League made us feel like we were on the back foot in these situations, when we were essentially living nukes compared to everyone around us.


    A stagehand led us to a large curtain. It all felt somewhat surreal compared to how I lived only a few months ago. Roxy gave me a nervous smile as we waited. Leyla was introducing the show, her muffled voice followed by the hum of the audience clapping.


    ¡°Alright, you¡¯re on. Big smiles.¡± The curtain was drawn to the side.


    Bright lights bathed me as we took up our roles in the act. While I walked, I tried to take everything in - even as the rapturous applause flooded my senses.


    The set itself was a pair of near-white couches at angles to each other. A light red carpet covered the floor a short step up from our current level, which was smooth and black. The large overhead lights illuminated both the seating arrangement, as well as the backdrop - a tall heart shape embossed on the brick wall with the show''s name plastered across it.


    Our host for this suddenly very real event was already seated, a wide smile almost as gleaming as her platinum blonde hair. She wore a soft pink dress that matched well with the heart-shaped cushions on both the couches. No doubt she had done this hundreds of times, so it was no surprise to see how comfortable and at-home she was.


    I turned my head and waved to the audience, mirroring what the super was doing. Roxy was also much more experience in this sort of thing, although she usually approached publicity with grimaces and reluctance.


    By the time we stepped up and made it to the seats, the clamoring died down, and Leyla took the reins.


    ¡°Rockslide, Gunquake, thank you for coming on today,¡± she began.


    Roxy smiled as she sat down. ¡°Thank you for having us.¡±


    [Indeed, it is a pleasure.]


    I sat myself down on the couch beside the super. The heat from all the lighting in here was making me feel warm already, as well as being half blinded. Maybe physical discomfort was a part of tenderizing us for the main course.


    ¡°Ooh, I have not heard your vocalizer before, Gunquake - which is surprising given how much I have been trying to dig up about you two.¡± She smiled and tilted her head. ¡°Difficult, as up until recently you were something of an unknown.¡±


    [Very true. It¡¯s fair to say I¡¯m not someone accustomed to the limelight.]


    ¡°And yet here you are, talk of the city as one of the most promising new heroes to sign up with the League. Not only are you part of the exciting rebrand of Rockslide¡¯s super group, but the little birds over the net have been chirping about the two of you being more than just team mates.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± Roxy said. ¡°While we¡¯ve been trying to keep it discreet, now that Gunquake is officially a hero, it¡¯s been difficult not to be seen together.¡±


    Leyla grinned at the crowd, giving them an exaggerated wink. ¡°My little birdies have eyes everywhere, unfortunately. Gunquake, you¡¯ve been making waves recently for your very brazen approach to heroism, with some saying that you act more like a reckless vigilante. What do you have to say to your detractors?¡±


    [In truth, I have a history of vigilantism. I¡¯ve always had a lot of love for Goldarch, but taking things into my own hand was the wrong way to do things. I¡¯m lucky that the League of Heroes have decided to nurture that passion into something more legitimate.]


    ¡°Well, we do love a bit of passion here at the Power of Love.¡± She continued smiling. ¡°So current events might just be teething issues as you settle into the hero the League wants you to be?¡±


    I hadn¡¯t been expecting a grilling over my career from the outset. It was almost enough to make me wonder if the questions were genuine or being fed to her by the Directors who didn¡¯t like me. Either way, I was speaking for the benefit of the crowd here.


    [I¡¯m unlikely to change my methods or discard the things I feel are important to me.]


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Roxy put her hand on my arm. ¡°Gunquake is very steadfast in his convictions.¡±


    ¡°So I can see.¡± The host raised her eyebrows at the audience. ¡°Does that mean we¡¯re likely to hear about more of your anti-bullying exploits?¡±


    [I hope not. While taking guns and criminals off the streets is my bread and butter, I like to think there is a broader change to be made where we can all be better. When I see my friends disparaged after all the work they do for the city, I feel that is an injustice.]


    ¡°Wow.¡± Leyla fanned her face with some cue cards she had been holding. ¡°A man who can talk the talk and walk it. Rockslide, how did you two end up meeting, as historically Gunquake isn¡¯t your type.¡±


    I could feel the super tense up. The ease with which she had planned to slide into our rehearsed lines about our time of meeting halted briefly with the sly stab at her history. A low blow, but she recovered without breaking her smile.


    ¡°We were actually after the same mob boss, and met up that way. At first, things were pretty heated, but I think it was that competitive spirit that drew us together.¡±


    ¡°A chance meeting. How sweet.¡± The crowd ahh¡¯d in response. ¡°In terms of competitiveness, do either of you ever feel as though your respective powers get in the way of having a normal relationship?¡±


    Roxy shot me a glance, and I gave her a nod to go first.


    ¡°Not really. I think to some degree¡ªsuper or not¡ªevery relationship is different and has various challenges to overcome to make work. You have to do what works for the both of you.¡±


    [Exactly. If anything, our powers are just another facet that we have to help better each other. We strive to be the best we can be, both as partners, and as heroes for the city.]


    Leyla nodded. ¡°Do you ever feel intimidated, Gunquake? Rockslide is one of the strongest superheroes in Goldarch.¡±


    [Not at all. Plus, it¡¯s only a matter of time before she is the strongest.]


    The crowd liked that. I could see the bait the host was laying out, but that was easy enough to brush away.


    ¡°Gunquake can definitely hold his own,¡± Roxy added. ¡°His strength was one of the reasons I fell for him, of course. Oh, and his eyes.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re hiding some nice eyes under there?¡± Leyla gasped. ¡°Any chance we could see them?¡±


    [I¡¯m afraid I only have eyes for Rockslide.]


    The host turned a pout towards the cameras, and the crowd reacted with a loud aww. I decided that¡ªdespite my charismatic background¡ªI was not a fan of having an audience to appeal to. While violence wasn¡¯t an answer to all these innocents staring at me, my grapple hook could take me¡­ nowhere productive at present. Shame.


    ¡°So,¡± Leyla begun, turning back to us. ¡°I hear you are living together already. We love that sort of commitment here at the Power of Love, even if it is quick. Do we need to worry about the patter of tiny super feet in the near future?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Roxy said, almost grimacing. ¡°Gunquake and I are¡­¡±


    [Focused more on our careers at present. I did recently become a cat-dad, which has been surprisingly fulfilling.]


    ¡°A cat-dad? I think you may have struck gold this time, Rockslide.¡± The host raised her eyebrows and leaned forward. ¡°I¡¯m really pleased that things are working out for you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Roxy looked at me, the stage-smile softening into something more genuine. ¡°It¡¯s been quite a whirlwind, but it¡¯s like when you know¡­ you just know.¡±


    I maintained eye contact with the super while the crowd did something or other. For as much as this had been a League-set up to garner favor for the two of us, this here¡ªright now¡ªwas Roxy and I being validated in front of the city. Together and in love. For a moment, I was lost in her fiery eyes.


    ¡°That is so beautiful. Here at the Power of Love, we were saddened the last time your name was talk of the city, Rockslide. Unfortunately, we were unable to get you on the show back then, but is there anything you wanted to say to settle that all today?¡±


    There it was. The biggest dig for drama that we had been expecting. I could see Roxy wince slightly as the question struck a nerve. Even with prep, we both knew this would be the more difficult stab to dodge from. Ironic considering we breezed past me being a murder-hungry vigilante unhindered by the League for years.


    ¡°I consider it the past,¡± Roxy said, gathering up her diplomatic energy. ¡°Things were said and mistakes were made, but I¡¯ve moved on and I don¡¯t think anyone is keen to dredge it up again.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not entirely correct there, Rockslide. Here on the Power of Love, we have an exclusive special guest that you¡¯ll be familiar with. Everyone, please welcome out¡­¡±


    Then she said his name. Whoever had set this up had played us both like fiddles. Roxy shot me a panicked loot, barely holding onto her composure. I was lucky to have no facial features showing.


    ¡°¡­the Maestro!¡±


    Henrick Karajan, aka the Maestro. The first time that I had heard his name spoken out loud. His powers revolved around crowd control and object manipulation. Ironic, given our situation.


    A stagehand brought over a chair to a place near our coach, and the man himself walked out. Hand waving to the crowd and a wide grin on his face.


    I flipped a coin in my head. Tails and I¡¯d kill him right now.


    Hmm. Five times in a row, all heads. I¡¯d have to go with plan B.


    ¡°Thank you for having me on,¡± he said as he sat down, adjusting the flair of his long sleeves. ¡°Such an honor to be here once more, under hopefully better circumstances.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Leyla said, giving him a nod. ¡°I don¡¯t believe you and Gunquake have met each other before?¡±


    I turned in my chair to face him and held out my gun-arm for him to shake.


    [Pleasure. How is retirement treating you?]


    He gripped the end of the barrel awkwardly and shook it. ¡°Ah? I¡¯m not retired.¡±


    [Apologies. I had not heard of you outside of the context of being in the past, so assumed you were no longer relevant. In terms of actively working for the League, I mean.]


    There were a few chuckles and other assorted reactions from the audience for my forward sass. I had agreed to play nice with the host, but the ambush had me edging closer to bad-Dubs territory.


    ¡°You are mistaken, friend.¡± His smile was lackluster. Closer to a sneer. ¡°We can¡¯t all be attention-seeking loose cannons.¡±


    I made the show of looking around the studio before tilting my head at him and his unexpected appearance.


    [Are we sure of that?]


    ¡°Alright, enough saber rattling, gentlemen.¡± Leyla shook her head. ¡°Maestro has come here as he has something to say to Rockslide.¡±


    Roxy had been silent through this, her natural desire to put her foot in her mouth clearly wanting to burst out and demand to know why this was happening. Even as her eyes bulged out of her head, she nodded politely. ¡°Okay?¡±


    Maestro cleared his throat. ¡°I feel like we parted ways under such a dark cloud. While many things were said on both sides, we never really cleared the air. So, I wish to apologize to you. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Okay?¡± she repeated, her voice terse as if she was about to explode like a¡­ well, it went without saying.


    Silence hung in the air for a moment, and I realized what this was leading to. He wanted her to apologize back to him. Once again, he was inserting himself into the picture and digging up old corpses to get news and attention. Getting an apology from her would validate all the bullshit he had put her through, as well as get the public refreshed on all of that long buried history right when we were putting ourselves out there.


    I wondered if that was enough to class him as a villain.


    ¡°Is there anything you¡¯d like to say in return, Rockslide?¡± The host prompted the super, but Roxy was basically paralyzed with indecision.


    The bad blood between them after he lied about how their relationship ended had been enough to almost turn her rogue. Now that she was back up at the top of the ladder, he had shown up again to make things difficult. I struggled to think of a way to interject that didn¡¯t come off as aggressive or was literal violence.


    ¡°Not really.¡± Roxy gave a shrug. ¡°I¡¯m honestly worried about you. It¡¯s been eating you up this whole time? That¡¯s not healthy.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to clear the air?¡± he asked. His expression was wavering, the original pomp of his entrance deflating as the wind was slowly taken from his sails.


    ¡°It¡¯s been cleared through the passage of time. It dissipated. I¡¯m sorry if you¡¯re still hung up on the past, but that¡¯s something you have to work through yourself.¡±


    Maestro didn¡¯t look too great. This is why research was important. Roxy was no longer the same hothead that he had broken up with, and had clearly matured past his level. Instead of the spark of anger burning up within me, the warmth of pride over how the super responded to him just made me love her all that more.


    Before he could speak, the host butted in.


    ¡°Rockslide is right. She doesn¡¯t owe you closure at this stage. As much as the olive branch is welcomed, it¡¯s a few years too late.¡± Leyla gave him a glum smile. ¡°The sooner you accept that, the quicker you can move on and find happiness, just like she has.¡±


    Ah, the reverse ambush. Leyla was smart and experienced. In seeing that the Maestro¡¯s plan had immediately backfired, she had switched sides to back us up. Now the hero looked like the biggest ass in the district, appearing during our fluff piece to stir and failing miserably.


    Not quite a kick in the balls, but I¡¯d take it.


    He smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. The desire to high-road us was evident with how he hesitated to reply, but he was running out of options. I could even feel the tension around the studio, waiting for him to pop and break bad.


    [For a moment, I was worried you were going to challenge me to a duel for Rockslide¡¯s hand.]


    The crowd laughed, flattening his rising attempt to snap back. He looked like the sort of guy who hated to be the butt of a joke. Also probably held grudges.


    His hands were clenching, almost fists. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t debase myself to punch down at a lower-ranked hero. I¡¯m no loose cannon.¡±


    Roxy snorted. ¡°Okay, not to encourage the saber rattling, but Gunquake would run circles around you.¡±


    The crowd ooh¡¯d, some excitement building.


    Maestro sneered again, clearly at a loss when keeping his composure at this stage. ¡°Oh really? How about you put your money where your mouth is, then?¡±


    I tilted my head and tapped at my re-breather with my index finger.


    [You might be out of luck there.]


    More laughter, which just caused him to grind his teeth. ¡°There are openings at the Heroism Arena this coming week. If you are so confident in your boyfriend¡¯s abilities, why not sign him up?¡±


    I hadn¡¯t noticed that he was actually talking past me, directly to Roxy. As if I was an accessory that didn¡¯t matter. Or perhaps he was scared of actually challenging me face-to-face.


    ¡°If he wants to, he can. What are the stakes? If he wins¡­?¡±


    Maestro pulled a face, but some of the smarm had returned. ¡°I have a sponsorship nearing its renewal. If Gunquake wins, I will hand it over to him.¡±


    [What is it that you want if I lose?]


    ¡°I want to be a part of Natural Disasters.¡±


    Maybe I should learn what the Heroism Arena actually was, or get the League¡¯s permission for all of this. Surely they had final say. We were saying a lot of words that didn¡¯t make much sense, but were held aloft by the thick tension in the studio.


    All I knew was that I had an annoying thorn in my side offering me money to kick his ass.


    I smiled internally and held my left hand out for him to shake.


    [You¡¯ve got yourself a deal.]

 136 - Job Security

    We didn¡¯t stick around for long after the show. Barely paid lip service to the host and Stacy as we nodded our thanks and made a swift exit. I drove us both home in the Meteor, and we sat in silence for the whole journey. After parking up and getting out, Roxy grabbed me by the collar and practically dragged me through the garden and into the house. Up to the bedroom where we proceeded to desecrate the furniture over an extended period of time.


    The talk show had been an affirmation for her. Freeing. Some long sought for validation that she wasn¡¯t the bad guy that her ex had painted her as. That she wasn¡¯t solely a short-tempered meathead stereotype. When pressed, she had shown maturity and enough eloquence to come out smelling of roses against the mudslinging of the Maestro.


    For all the upward spiraling our lives had been lately, this win over her past had been the igniting spark to set a firework off. The downside? We¡¯d need to find better heat resistant paint and wood lacquer for the bedroom. We had done it a disservice.


    I emerged from some well-earned sleep first. Stretched my aching body out and left her to rest longer. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure what the itinerary for today was, and didn¡¯t care to check.


    At the very least, I¡¯d need to find out what the Heroism Arena was.


    In the bathroom, I freshened up with some sink water. Checked myself out in the mirror. Either it was my imagination, or I had been bulking out a little. Hand-print scar on my chest had faded a little more, but was still clearly visible. I titled my head to the side, as the bathroom door opened up.


    Clara walked in, wearing a dark gray nightgown. She barely acknowledged me, her expression rather glum, as she walked over and sat down on the closed toilet.


    ¡°I¡¯ll assume the talk show went well, Gunquake,¡± she said.


    [On account of us not murdering anyone and fleeing the city?]


    The techie rolled her eyes. ¡°If you two set the house on fire, I won¡¯t be buying you a new one.¡±


    An odd threat to level at me, but it was hard to be subtle when one of us turned into a literal furnace under certain circumstances.


    [They tried to spring Maestro on us. Roxy handled it professionally, and we came out looking great.]


    ¡°Huh.¡± Clara raised her eyebrows. ¡°But you didn¡¯t kick him in the balls?¡±


    [No¡­ but I apparently challenged him to something called the Heroism Area. Perhaps I can kick him in the balls there.]


    The techie groaned and put her face in her hands.


    [¡­Bad idea?]


    ¡°It¡¯s not that, Gunquake.¡± She sighed. ¡°Your new arm is coming together, but we are short of some parts to add some functions that I intend.¡±


    [Can they be added at a later date?]


    ¡°No.¡± Clara scowled at me. ¡°We aren¡¯t doing this piecemeal. I understand your impatience in having a hand once again, Gunquake¡­ but this is a little bigger than that now.¡±


    This was about peak technological development. I had agreed to be her work-in-progress, and part of that process was allowing her to use me to build up her career. She didn¡¯t just want to make me a hand, or even an upgrade to my weaponry. The techie was creating a masterpiece, unparalleled. It was my duty to help her reach that pinnacle.


    And then hopefully kill some motherfuckers with it.


    [What parts do you need, and how can I get them?]


    ¡°A sweet gesture, Gunquake.¡± She rested her chin on her hand. ¡°Unfortunately, what we are missing cannot be easily bought, and prompting you to do crime would be antithetical to your life as a hero.¡±


    [Humor me.]


    ¡°We need another V-Force drive, which is rare and regulated. Also, four Hema-two pins. Finally, a Z¡¯nano Orange-district Electroboard, version eight. I have a six and it is not up to task.¡±


    [I understood some of those words.]


    Clara sighed. ¡°I have Doctor Jarl poking around his contacts, but we¡¯ve all but stripped his workshop of anything useful.¡± She furrowed her brow. ¡°Also, I¡¯m waiting to use the bath if you could kindly excuse me.¡±


    [Oh, of course. Apologies.]


    I left the bathroom and hummed to myself. Since I was just in my compression shorts, it might be a good idea to do some training. It had been difficult to adjust Roxy¡¯s gym equipment to be useable for someone with more normal strength limits, so I decided I¡¯d just go for a run instead.


    As I walked down the stairs to the lobby, Warlock trotted out of the living room and meowed at me.


    [Good morning to you too. Hungry?]


    His reply told me that he was ravenous. I took a detour to the kitchen to put him down some food, and then I replaced my nutrition canister with a fresh, chilled one. As the cold liquid sunk into my system, and the cat chomped noisily, I looked out of the window at the small garden.


    It was remarkably peaceful.


    Perhaps the talk show had been some validation for me as well. I was¡­ liked. Acceptable on the public stage, despite all that I had been. I was normal.


    An ironic thought, given that the next track my train shifted onto, was how I could steal the items that Clara needed. Getting caught breaking and entering would tarnish the reputation I was building up. That said, I had a few ideas that could work in my favor. All I had to do was¡­


    My eyes switched from the sunlit greenery outside and up to the messages coming through in my STAR.


    Footsteps thudded from the bedroom and onto the landing as I stepped out into the lobby.


    ¡°Dubs,¡± Roxy said, looking down at me.


    [I know, I got it too.]


    //Stacy: Congratulations are in order!


    //Stacy: As of this morning¡¯s update, Natural Disasters are 9th on the charts.


    //Stacy: I have already arranged for you all to have today off.


    //Stacy: Enjoy your day and keep up the good work.


    ¡°Nineth!¡± Roxy hissed. She ran down the stairs, still in her black nightie, and jumped into my arms.


    More than job security, this set us on the stage for further growth. The talk show hadn¡¯t even aired yet, but our single team mission had been enough to drum up the interest to be ranked higher. The rebranding was a success, and the team now relegated to tenth must hate us.


    [Are you thinking we get the others over to celebrate?]


    ¡°Exactly.¡± She pulled away and smiled. ¡°After lunch, though. I want a little time for myself to bask in the glow of success. Oh, and of the sun. I want to sunbathe.¡±


    [I¡¯m going to go stretch my legs while Clara is using the bathroom.]


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Roxy brought my head down to kiss my forehead and left me to go back upstairs with no response other than a wide, genuine smile.


    I turned my head to the side and watched as Warlock stared intently at a couple of light patches on the kitchen floor before he pounced on them. My brain tried to come up with some metaphor about fighting the dark or light¡­ but my heart wasn¡¯t in it.


    Instead, I left the house and took a deep breath of fresh air. Things were slowly sinking into place. We were potentially a long way off ascending to being an A-Rank hero team, but this wasn¡¯t something to be rushed.


    My STAR was alight with the rest of the team getting the news and expressing their happiness over the ranking change. All were eager to get together and celebrate, and discuss the tentative team mission that had just been added to our calendars. The League would want to capitalize on our surge in popularity, so that meant being seen out and about doing good. Hopefully reception of our talk show appearance would be good.


    //Dubs: Whatever time Roxy invites you over¡­


    //Dubs: Come half an hour before that.


    //Belle: Alright, as long as I don¡¯t get in trouble.


    //Belle: I¡¯ll confirm with Clara - apparently she has a better solution for my teleportation.


    I didn¡¯t promise that Roxy wouldn¡¯t be annoyed with an early showing, but I reckoned I had earned enough goodwill as of late to let it slide. As she was the magic-user of the group, I wanted to pick Belle¡¯s brains over a few things. Mostly, I just didn¡¯t think Clara should have the monopoly on war-crime adjacent ammunition design.


    After a few steps onto the soft grass, I paused and stretched out my cybernetic legs. More out of habit than any real need. Then I was off. A light jog to start with, out past the garden and the workshop, and then in an arc around the inner perimeter of the protective dome.


    At this point, my new legs didn¡¯t feel any different from my old ones - with some exceptions. They wouldn¡¯t tire no matter how long I ran, and were obviously made of something harder than skin and muscle. But they acted as if I had been born with them.


    It was enough to make me wonder if they intended for me to suit cybernetic replacements so naturally, or if it was an aftereffect of my old super-soldier bullshit. That thought led to why the World Government hadn¡¯t tagged their toy mercenaries with tracking devices.


    Well, if they had, then Boss would have known and removed it. Could be another reason I was mutilated in the process of becoming Agent W. For as much as I had moved on from Boss and his shadow covering my existence, I wasn¡¯t foolish enough to believe he was fully out of the picture. The ends didn¡¯t justify the means when it came to how I was treated.


    But¡­ it had worked out, in its own messed up way. I¡¯d much rather have Roxy and my friends than be a corpse in a ditch somewhere, erased by the Government.


    Perhaps it was this ever-inflating bubble of bliss that had me slightly sour, waiting for the eventual pop. Maybe I just didn¡¯t like cardio.


    I upped the pace, my metal feet digging into the sandy ground as I went for my third lap around our base. My max speed had near tripled with the new legs, but I was still only a fraction of what Roy was capable of.


    Eventually, I slid to a stop. Out of breath and sweating. I¡¯d definitely earned a fresh canister, at the least.


    I walked from the back of the house around to the front to see the pair I lived with in the garden already. Roxy was lying on her front on the deckchair, sunglasses and a black bikini on. Clara had a parasol up over the garden table, while she tapped away at her laptop. In seeing me appear, she held up a canister.


    ¡°Nice run, Dubs?¡± Roxy asked.


    [It just isn¡¯t the same without some violence at the end of it.]


    ¡°How about rubbing some sunblock on my back instead? It¡¯s over by the gremlin.¡±


    I rolled my eyes and took the hint. Back across the grass and Clara handed me the canister first.


    ¡°Congratulations on the ranking, Gunquake.¡± She was in her usual black undershirt and gray dungarees combo, which was semi-workwear.


    [You¡¯re a part of that too, are you not?]


    ¡°I suppose. Sometimes I wonder if I should design a mechanical suit to wear and join you in the battlefield as an actual sidekick.¡± Clara raised an eyebrow, waiting for my thoughts.


    [Too much cardio.]


    ¡°Precisely. It¡¯s enough keeping up with my other responsibilities. I asked Wren to arrive half an hour early to go over the blueprints for the command center, and you¡¯ll never guess what Rockslide did.¡±


    I tilted my head back to look at the super, who was undoing her bikini top so that I¡¯d have full range of her muscled back.


    [She asked Roy to come half an hour early to teach her kickboxing?]


    ¡°And you say I¡¯m the mind reader, Gunquake.¡± The techie held up the sunblock. ¡°Now go lube up my sister so that she may cook evenly without burning.¡±


    [You don¡¯t want to partake?]


    ¡°If I ever have that much time to lay idle, Gunquake, just assume I am dead.¡± Her eyes went over to the super before back up to mine. ¡°Perhaps ask again once you have your new hand.¡±


    [If it¡¯s as good as you are alluding it to being¡­]


    I didn¡¯t finish that sentence, as much as she was hanging on my every word. With another roll of my eyes, I returned to Roxy. The more my life filled out, the more I craved having a hand again. My gun-arm had served me well over the years¡­ it felt like a part of me¡­ but just knowing I¡¯d be able to grab or hold things was exciting.


    Something ever more apparent as I massaged the sunblock into Roxy¡¯s back with one hand. She appreciated it, but then she¡¯d never really viewed my weaponized limb as a downside. While she would occasionally pout at me not having a kissable mouth, she acted as if my arm and legs were just me.


    [Did I ever tell you how much I appreciate you?]


    ¡°Mm?¡± she replied, relaxed. ¡°Oh, I know exactly how you feel about me, Dubs.¡± Roxy smiled as I worked my hand over her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m glad we had that talk about marriage. I feel a lot less anxious about things now.¡±


    [Yeah? What we have now isn¡¯t so bad, is it?]


    ¡°Not at all. Not at all.¡±


    [Good. Well, I¡¯m going to shower and get ready for the others to arrive.]


    Roxy pulled a glum face at me leaving her, but didn¡¯t try to stop me. I paused at the edge of the garden as Warlock was lying on the porch in the sunshine, before stepping carefully around him.


    I got myself clean and dressed in a casual shirt and shorts. It sounded like we all had some business to attend to before the drinks came out, which was probably the best order to do things. Later in the evening, we¡¯d all sit around in the living room and watched the showing of the Power of Love.


    The prospect of seeing myself in third person wasn¡¯t that exciting, and as I went to leave the house again, I wracked my brain trying to think of anything especially cringe that I said.


    Roxy had flipped over to cook her front now, while Warlock had moved to sleep on the garden table, just outside of the shade of the techie, tapping away.


    [Clara.]


    ¡°Yes, Gunquake?¡± She raised her eyebrows and glanced away from the screen.


    [Can the metal used for the Sanguine stakes be fashioned into blades, or maybe a fist weapon?]


    ¡°No, unfortunately not. The properties of this variant aren¡¯t well-suited for repeated impacts. That¡¯s why these newly created ones are single use.¡±


    [What about powdering the ore up to make something like a smoke grenade? It could cause asphyxiation, perhaps.]


    ¡°Again, you are trying too hard. Not that I don¡¯t appreciate the ideas.¡± Clara tilted her head. ¡°Some novel way of disabling a super without outright killing them could be ideal.¡±


    ¡°Could you not discuss ways in which to torture and maim people while I¡¯m right here?¡± Roxy lifted up her sunglasses to glare at us. ¡°This is a day of celebration.¡±


    [Then how about you tell me about the Heroism Arena? Do I get to shoot people?]


    ¡°No. Dubs.¡± She sighed and gestured to the other deckchair. ¡°Sit your ass down and I¡¯ll fill you in.¡±


    The classic lesser of two evils conversation. I didn¡¯t want to bring up Maestro or whatever potential trouble I might have gotten myself into on such a positive day, but switching from the worse subject made it an easy segue.


    I sat down in the middle and faced her.


    ¡°Before you get all excited, it¡¯s not a fighting tournament where you¡¯ll be able to kick his teeth in.¡±


    For a split second, I considered asking if the balls were still an option.


    ¡°That said¡­ there is a small chance you¡¯ll have to fight. For the most part, the Heroism Arena is like a competition over how good a hero you are. Uhh¡­ there¡¯s simulated scenarios where you¡¯ll have to rescue someone or fight off a monster. Each of the contestants does the same thing and you get a score based on whatever bullshit metrics they use. Five rounds and highest score wins.¡±


    [Have you ever done it?]


    ¡°Fuck no.¡± She pulled a face. ¡°Stupid thing has killed plenty of careers early. Nothing can destroy your public perception like turning one of the challenges into a shitshow. There was one dude a few years back¡­ Grabtoe or something. Dumbass killed four civilians when only two were in danger.¡±


    [Not real civilians, I hope?]


    ¡°They use robots or similar. It was a disaster rescue relief scenario, and he led two who were just malnourished into a building nearing collapse. Whole thing squished them all.¡±


    [Hmm. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have agreed to this.]


    ¡°Honestly?¡± Roxy screwed up her face and looked away in thought. ¡°Winning is a good boost to your career, and I trust that you¡¯ll win. Often the people that join up are either desperate for the attention and bad at their job, or secure enough that they think they¡¯ll win so they¡¯ll be a little sloppy.¡±


    [Which one of those is Maestro?]


    The super closed her eyes and hummed for a moment, gathering up her thoughts. ¡°He is¡­ neither. His goal will be to show you up and get a win over you in any way necessary.¡±


    Other than by being the better hero, of course. The thought of being a spectacle in a series of games didn¡¯t exactly sound like my sort of fun. Especially when I was putting my fledgling career on the line¡­


    But I had accepted, and that would be broadcast out to the whole of Goldarch tonight. The thrum of intrigue and gossip was soon to fill the streets. To what end?


    As much as I was eager for a fight, my repeated successes in life had taken the edge off of my desire for petty vengeance against the man. I had already won. The princess was mine, and as I lounged in my castle, I couldn''t help but feel pity for someone still so lost in his past.


    [Ah, that¡¯s a shame. I wouldn¡¯t want to have to play dirty.]


    Roxy tilted from the deckchair, leaning over so that she could extend her index finger and prod me in the leg.


    ¡°No, you have to do anything it takes to beat that asshole. That¡¯s an order.¡±


    Well, who was I to argue with that?

 137 - Rest and the Rest

    Clara had fabricated a concrete circle that held the necessary structure and magical runes for Belle to teleport here without the need to set up the stones and statues manually. I didn¡¯t care to ask how or when, but once it was in place, it didn¡¯t really matter. The fact that one of us could teleport was a novel and impressive enough.


    Although, Belle¡¯s actual appearance did remove some of that luster. With the engraved parts illuminating bright green, there was a flash, and she emerged from the light. Rather than being draped in her detailed and thematic costume, she was wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a long hooded top.


    [You¡¯d never make it as a magician.]


    She smiled. ¡°The flair and mystique is only for deserving audiences.¡±


    [Well, you might change your mind once you see what I got you.]


    Belle looked past me as I jerked my thumb back to the garden table. There was an iced cooler with several bottles of liquor in it.


    ¡°Damn, Dubs. You must really want something important from me?¡±


    [You know what they say - no good deed goes unpunished.]


    Roxy was inside getting ready for her training with the speedster when he arrived, and Clara had vanished into the workshop as soon as the teleport circle had started activating. With a gesture, Belle and I went and sat at the garden table.


    [I want to make magic bullets.]


    ¡°Hmm.¡± She pulled a bottle of tequila from the cooler and sunk into her chair. ¡°For what purpose, when you have an effective range of ammunition already?¡±


    [There might be opponents who have physical resistances but are weak to magic.]


    ¡°Fair. But then you have to start to think about what kind of magic you want, and what is effective.¡±


    I tilted my head to the side as she popped the cap and took a few gulps of the alcohol.


    [Explain.]


    ¡°Magic is a rather broad term for a range of different¡­ let¡¯s call them flavors. For example, my magic is Fey in nature, as it comes from His power. Divine and Demonic are other types that come from other entities, but there is also Arcane, Elemental, Tribal¡­ it¡¯s quite varied.¡±


    [So if I wanted you to enchant some runes, they¡¯d be Fey magic?]


    She nodded, and I started wondering what kind of power was inscribed into my nanites. Probably the same as whatever V-Force was. My mind briefly switched to our need for a fourth drive before I returned to the current conversation.


    [When Clara appears, we¡¯ll rope her into it as she knows the runic details, but she¡¯ll also be busy with¡­]


    My vocalizer trailed off as we looked over to see a helicopter moving from the city over to us. Another familiar cloud of dust bloomed from ground level.


    ¡°Teleported half an hour early, and still only had two minutes alone with you.¡± She took another swig of the bottle. ¡°You want to see if the League will give us a duo mission? Or, even better¡­ you think we¡¯ll have some wasteland work soon?¡±


    [You''re looking to blow off some steam?]


    ¡°More than that.¡± She tutted. ¡°I don¡¯t get to limit test much in the city, with what missions I get. If I want to get to A-Rank then I need some actual challenges.¡±


    I nodded. Now she was speaking my language. The sooner we could get the whole team as close to Roxy¡¯s level as possible, the greater the chance we¡¯ll advance the ranks based on strength.


    [Nothing official, but I¡¯ll see what I can arrange.]


    ¡°I¡¯ve been eagerly waiting to see how you and Roxy fared on the talk show.¡± She grinned as she watched the other two approach. ¡°I can tell by the vibes here that it went well. I¡¯m really happy for you both, and proud of you.¡±


    [Yeah? The booze that good that it¡¯s making you soppy already?]


    She flipped me off with the hand raising the bottle. ¡°Roxy said we¡¯re all welcome to stay the night, so we¡¯d better get business sorted before I¡¯m two bottles in.¡±


    Something that became difficult in short order. Ren and Roy arrived. Clara and Roxy emerged. Preliminary celebrations were had. Drinks and cheering. We¡¯d have several victories as a group, but this one felt like the first rung on the ladder. A boost proving that we could ascend. Before the alcohol could hit, we split up into our pairings for the important things.


    Clara handed me a couple of shells that were solid but had inert runes carved into them. Apparently, it was a difficult process, and she hadn¡¯t had the chance to really dive into what was possible. I couldn¡¯t fault her for that, considering everything else she got up to.


    The first was a ¡®Minor Slow¡¯ spell rune. A single target magical blast that would reduce the movement speed of whomever was struck by it. Sounded pretty useful. The second was similar to the High Explosive shot I already had, but it was meant to be magical energy.


    ¡°That would be a Fey Explosive shot, then,¡± Belle suggested, holding the cartridge in her hand and inspecting it. ¡°Which is probably functionally the same, to some degree.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow at the techie.


    [Is there not a way I can infuse them with own my magical power?]


    ¡°Unlikely, Gunquake.¡± She dusted off her dungarees. ¡°Your magical power comes from runes already. These runes require a direct source of energy.¡±


    With that explained, she left us with the warning not to injure ourselves while we had a play - and she vanished into the workshop with Ren.


    Belle had her face scrunched up, one eye almost closed as she focused on the runic shot. ¡°Hmm,¡± she eventually concluded. ¡°It¡¯s interesting.¡±


    [How so?]


    ¡°It¡¯s like a puzzle piece. I can tell that the rune is receptive to receiving magical empowerment, but it has to be aligned a certain way. Maybe like picking a lock?¡±


    [Something I can leave with you?]


    ¡°Sure. Assuming He doesn¡¯t mind me sharing His power.¡± She put down the empty bottle of tequila and pulled out a bottle of rum. ¡°Any excuse to cause a little mischief seems to make Him happy, so we might be in luck.¡±


    I nodded and looked out to the yard. Roxy was currently blocking a series of high kicks from the speedster. While his attacks would never deal a significant of damage to the super, no matter how many he landed, against a normal target the flurry of blow would be devastating.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    It made me wonder how many of the team had considered how they might defeat Roxy if it came down to it. Working together, they might have a chance. Belle would probably be the least equipped to subdue the volcanic super, but she might get lucky with her strange curse magic.


    If anything, it just made it evident how easily we ignored that sort of thing. Even amongst other heroes, Roxy was like a grizzly bear. Imposing and liable to snap and just tear you in half on a whim. Right now¡­ there was little different between us. A bunch of friends celebrating and having a bit of fun.


    With that thought, I let my brain empty out and I did just that. We drank and sparred and discussed our futures. Roy somehow lost more money over a bet, but I didn¡¯t catch what for. Clara joined us once the plans for the command center were dealt with. Roxy managed to put a hole in the warehouse wall after accidentally kicking up a small rock during her training.


    I mostly wondered where I could get a V-Force drive from.


    Eventually, the sun started to set, and dusk settled onto our extended party.


    ¡°The show is on in ten minutes,¡± Roxy said, ¡°everyone inside.¡±


    It had been difficult for both of us to be tight-lipped about how it had been. Much like Belle, the others could sense that it wasn¡¯t bad, given our decent moods today. Even without our ranking increase, we probably would have held something for the others to watch the show live with us.


    I stood and allowed my slightly wavy vision to settle before I followed the others. Roxy looped her arm around mine, her face aglow from the sun absorbed earlier and the alcohol she had been drinking. Possibly with some joy over us and our appearance on the show going well.


    For me, I was a little apprehensive. Jaded enough to know that since it wasn¡¯t broadcast live, that an editor with an eye for drama could have chopped up the interview to make us seem worse, or Maestro better.


    My eyes went up to my STAR as I crossed the porch.


    //Silhouette: Congrats, brother.


    //Silhouette: Won¡¯t be long before you¡¯re stepping on more toes.


    //Gunquake: Better watch where you step then.


    //Silhouette: :)


    I almost laughed due to how out of place the smiley face was. We were both aware that neither of us were directly threatening each other, but the fun was in the implication. Whether he was one of my brothers originally opposed or aligned with me didn¡¯t matter so much.


    He was a hero now, and had been for who knew how long. Even if he was originally against me, the person he was now wouldn¡¯t be against the person I was now. Maybe he¡¯d never remember the past, and it would just be something clouding my own mind¡­ so I was letting it dissipate. Some of it feeling unreal now, with how my current existence was going.


    The six of us arranged ourselves on the furniture as the television flickered to life. Clara had even made popcorn, which seemed rather over the top. We bickered about the advertisements shown before the show, but all quietened down once it started.


    Roxy squeezed me a little closer as the theme tune and opening graphics rolled around, her face all smiles.


    So it began.


    Seeing everything from the perspective of the audience was interesting. I wasn¡¯t someone particularly self-conscious, but I did wince as I watched myself walk out onto the stage. The rest of the Natural Disasters clapped and cheered as if they were there in person. For all the nuanced bundle of emotions I had felt the pair of us displayed at the time, we actually looked like naturals from this distance.


    Perhaps that was in part because no part of my face was visible, but even Roxy looked like she belonged. Our home-grown crowd clapped and aww¡¯d at the necessary parts of our conversation, up until the point the special guest was revealed.


    They gasped and boo¡¯d as Maestro appeared on the stage. Both Ren and Clara both looked especially annoyed that he had been sprung on us like that. Despite him once being part of the team, it was clear they had no patience for the man.


    Much to my surprise, the show wasn¡¯t edited in malicious ways. The exchange between us three and the request for an apology was verbatim, as it occurred. Everyone was silent as Maestro turned the screws right before Roxy delivered her rebuttal.


    As soon as the television version of her finished talking, the Natural Disasters erupted into cheering. Even just the dejected and wavering expression on Maestro¡¯s face was enough for them, without them needing to hear anything after that. They turned to congratulate Roxy, the win clearly sealed. The high ground secured.


    They had known her a lot longer than I had and were clearly championing her growth in overcoming something that had previously threatened to tear the group apart completely. It put the final nail in the coffin to whatever they were before, and now the Natural Disaster was their own valid thing. Competent, the facts clear as day with our rank up this morning.


    It was almost enough jubilation to miss the fact that I had agreed to do the Heroism Arena against Maestro.


    ¡°Wait, wait,¡± Roy said, his brow furrowing. ¡°Not to doubt you, Dubs, but that¡¯s a risk.¡±


    ¡°Dubs¡¯ll crush it,¡± Belle interjected. ¡°Name one thing he hasn¡¯t accomplished.¡±


    Ren crossed her arms and glared at the television. ¡°While that might be the case, I don¡¯t trust Maestro to play fair. Given that this will carry a lot of weight for how Dubs¡¯ career¡ªand thus ours¡ªwill go, we will need to prepare him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already downloaded the replays from the last thirteen Heroism Arenas,¡± Clara said. ¡°I have data compiling which should guide us to what aspects are most efficient to train.¡±


    [I appreciate the interest, but I¡¯m sure I can waltz through it.]


    ¡°Dubs,¡± Roxy said, pulling me close so her face was close to mine. ¡°The arena is one day before we go to my parent¡¯s house. One day before my birthday. You know what I¡¯d really like for that?¡±


    [That thing I do with my mouth?]


    Some laughs, but she just rolled her eyes. The super moved her face even closer; her gaze locked onto mine.


    ¡°I want you to wipe the floor with Maestro. Really ruin him.¡±


    It might be the hue of the dimly lit room, the intensity of her glare, or the haze brought on by the drunken revelry, but yeah.


    I would destroy him.


    That said, I probably would have agreed to do anything she asked, with few exceptions. Punching down at her ex was a given, and now with the whole city buzzing about the Arena, I needed to really sell that I was in top hero shape. Part of me wanted to raise the point that pushing Maestro too far might be dangerous, but that small voice was drowned out by the celebration the rest of me was currently enjoying.


    With everything else out of the way, now it was time for the real party to begin.


    As the sensible one with actual family to go home to, Ren peaked early and then took the route of being the adult in the room. Belle was several liters of liquor down and still catching up. Both Roxy and Roy kept upping the ante over physical challenges that heavily favored their own skill-set, but somehow the speedster lost even the ones favoring him. Clara switched between drunkenly murmuring about mechanical equations, and visiting the house to either vomit or take a break from the social aspect of the gathering.


    Warlock spent the whole evening curled up in the workshop.


    Eventually, just like all good things, the evening celebration ended. Ren sobered up enough to fly her helicopter home. After draining almost all the remaining alcohol left out, Belle passed out on the swing chair. Roy was fast asleep on the living room couch. After emptying out her stomach a final time, Clara was in her room with an ice pack and a large bottle of water.


    We had earned this. Well, maybe something with a little more moderation, at least. As much as I had enjoyed the whole day and what it meant for the weeks ahead, there was a small cloud hanging just outside my peripheral.


    Things had been going a little too well lately.


    A minor imperfection in my otherwise flawless personality - I just couldn¡¯t accept things could be fine for too long. There were boxes left unticked and lingering. It was an unfortunate result of my past - something I could never fully escape. Not while people knew about Bard or Agent W.


    Even as I laid in bed, staring at the slightly rotating ceiling, the apparent gloom circling my thoughts was something only one person could read. Her fiery eyes burned into me as the night drew to a close.


    Roxy put her arm around me and narrowed her glare. ¡°I¡¯m too fried to fully engage with what¡¯s on your mind, but I want you to know it¡¯s all ok.¡±


    [I believe it.]


    ¡°Hmm. Almost convincing. You¡¯re just waiting for a message to come through, or some shadow to emerge from the past and give you grief.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t wrong, of course. It was like the tide, rolling in and then back away from the shore. Trouble washed up, but I¡¯d overcome it. We¡¯d been riding the calm for a while, a few steps ahead of getting our feet wet. Maybe it would be plain sailing from now on¡­ or actually, I was making myself a little seasick with all the ocean metaphors.


    [It would be nice to be wrong about it for once.]


    ¡°I have a solution for that.¡± Roxy pushed herself up and leaned over me. Her hands came up to grasp the sides of my head and she gently closed my eyelids down with her thumbs. ¡°Boop. The day is over.¡±


    It was once again impressive that the super was able to control her strength even while drunk, and didn¡¯t pulp my head or destroy my eyeballs. Not quite the reassuring moment she intended, but perhaps I could allow myself to ignore that nagging part of my mind - for a just a while, at least.


    ¡°Get some sleep. Tomorrow we¡¯re going to wake up, handle our hangovers¡­¡± she leaned in close to my ear. ¡°And then I¡¯m going to teach you everything I know about being a hero.¡±


    So it began.

 138 - Fresh Air on Tap

    My metal feet slid across the dry sand, and I shook my numb arm off. Roxy brought her hands back up and positioned herself to kick me again.


    [This feels like training for you more than it is for me.]


    Day one of practice for the arena, and I was already questioning my mentor. After waking up, she had taken me out into the early morning light and drawn a wide circle in the dirt. Roxy stood in the center and told me if I left it, then I would lose.


    The fact that she insisted I remain in my t-shirt and shorts without any of my equipment or weaponry made this an uphill struggle. Utilizing a few of the kicks Roy had taught her, she had rebuffed all of my attempts to move her from her position.


    ¡°Feel free to give up on stage one if you wish,¡± she replied, a smirk on her face.


    I grunted and pulled my shirt off. Threw it on the floor and then stretched my shoulders out. Even putting all my V-Force drives into overload and striking her wouldn¡¯t get her quite to the edge, I was sure. My mind circled around other ways to try to shift her, but without my grapple or shotgun cartridges, I might as well wrestle a mountain.


    Then again, my ego told me that was no issue.


    My feet dug into the ground and I ran forward. Her kick lashed out, but I dodged it. I swung down with my gun-arm and she caught it. Left hand interlocked with hers as we struggled strength vs strength. She grinned and held me in place, unmoving. V-Force in my cybernetic feet hummed into life and dug into the ground, adding force to me weighing against her.


    The air around Roxy shimmered as she heated up. I could feel it against my skin as she remained staring at me with that grin. Flames flickered in her eyes as the smell of heated rock filled my re-breather.


    I was gaining no ground, and the super wasn¡¯t letting up on generating heat. The warmth turned into brief pain. She was burning me and had no qualms about going further. Fully willing to cook me rather than¡­


    Oh.


    I relaxed my grip and she let me go. Even as my skin itched from the burn, I turned away from her and walked. Straight out of the circle and over to the nearest deckchair.


    ¡°A little slow on the uptake, but you worked it out in time.¡±


    With a groan, I sat down and faced her. She had a smile on her face still, despite her arms being crossed. Point one would be that she never told me I needed to move her out of the circle. But the actual lesson was¡­


    [Sometimes I need to know when to walk away and take a loss.]


    ¡°You can be just as stubborn as me,¡± she said as she walked over. ¡°Your run-in with Red Dust proved that, so it¡¯s better to get you to acknowledge your risk-taking bullshit before getting into anything with stakes.¡±


    [Retreating until I had the advantage is better than dashing myself against insurmountable odds.]


    ¡°Bingo. Let me set up the next training session while you lick your wounds.¡±


    A small dose of my stims washed through me, eradicating any pain. It was at the point where it wouldn¡¯t take long for my skin to heal up. A little focus would even speed up the process so that I could-


    Clara emerged from the workshop and stepped over to me.


    ¡°Rockslide putting you through the wringer, Gunquake?¡± she asked.


    [I¡¯m getting a crash course on thinking more like a hero.]


    ¡°I see.¡± The techie stood beside with her hands in the dungaree pockets. ¡°Once you are finished, I have some data-driven homework for you to engage with.¡± She looked over at where the super was arranging the training dummies.


    [Exciting. Is everything okay?]


    She screwed up her face briefly before giving me her usual passive glare. ¡°I apologize if our brief courtship has run dry, Gunquake. My interest in such things is always wavering, if not doomed to evaporate entirely. All of my energy has been spent on work lately.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. While I had always anticipated it to be a fleeting thing, it was a surprise that it bothered her - or at least she considered that it might bother me.


    [No need to apologize. As long as you are happy.]


    She frowned. ¡°Hmm. If I may, could I whisper you some sweet nothings, Gunquake?¡±


    Given that she was speaking loud enough for Roxy to hear, and the super was definitely glaring at Clara instead of setting up the training, I assumed it was just another part of their game. Either way, I wasn¡¯t going to deny her.


    [As you wish.]


    She leaned over close to me, her mouth beside my ear.


    ¡°I¡¯ve paid a criminal group from the dark web to break in and steal a V-Force drive from a local tech company. They are set to drop it off in the wastes east of here, at which point you¡¯ll greet them and do your hero thing. A few explosions and some insurance write-offs, and¡­ I¡¯m sure you can read between the lines, Gunquake.¡±


    Clara stood back up and smiled toward Roxy. I let that nugget of information roll around my head, briefly wondering if I¡¯d actually heard that right or imagined it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t break him, sister,¡± she called out. ¡°I have some very in-depth exercises to perform with him later.¡±


    I watched the techie leave, back toward the workshop. It wasn¡¯t an actual blameless and risk-free attempt at getting us a V-Force drive, but compared to the alternatives, we might get away with it. As to why I might show up to defeat the thieves? Director Kingston had already given me permission to investigate the rise in gun crime in the city. If we could tie these criminals to that¡­


    ¡°Training time, Dubs.¡± Roxy looked like a fresh storm, energized by the techie and ready to put me through my paces.


    With little option but to just sigh and get on with it, I did just that.


    <hr>


    Slowly, I sunk into the bubble bath.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The rest of Roxy¡¯s training regime after the single nugget of wisdom had been all physical in nature. Attack and defense drills. Not that I didn¡¯t appreciate, but with less than a week to prepare, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to improve that dramatically in terms of fighting strength. Still, I did exactly as she instructed.


    I was only granted a reprieve when she had to go for her shift on patrol. Mine was early tomorrow morning, before the sun came up. Should be nice and quiet, even if it disrupted my sleeping schedule.


    The League had signed off on my application for the Heroism Arena - not they had much choice, given my acceptance of the challenge had been broadcast to the whole city. That said, Stacy would have informed them immediately after the recording had stopped, and that part of the show would have been cut if they didn¡¯t want me doing it.


    I had a feeling that the Directors that didn¡¯t like me were hoping for my downfall in the arena, while those with confidence knew I¡¯d put to rest any doubts over my capabilities.


    As for my thoughts? I was more concerned about what Clara had been planning.


    While I was certainly glad it took some weight off of me potentially trying to break and enter myself, there was still risk involved. If we were going to accuse those criminals we secretly hired of being part of the rise in gun crime, then we¡¯d need a little more evidence to back us up. Perhaps a little side quest for my patrol in the morning.


    Unfortunately, I was too driven with the desire to have my new hand to tell her to call it off. I didn¡¯t have the stomach to ask Clara if it would be done before the Heroism Arena. Didn¡¯t want the answer to be negative, even if was the realistic one.


    Perhaps it wasn¡¯t a good idea to get a new and important upgrade right before having to use it to make or break my career. There would surely be teething issues. Could probably punch Maestro in the face with it, though.


    Not that I had that plan set in stone.


    Although I was still Maestro¡¯s number one hater, I had cooled off on wanting revenge on him. At least for what he had put Roxy through - the super had gotten the upper hand in her own way without resorting to violence. That hatchet was buried, and she¡¯d moved on.


    If he hadn¡¯t challenged me, then that probably would have been it for him. He¡¯d fade into the background and that chapter would have a suitable line drawn underneath it. But he just had to push for one last attempt to put us down. Everything we had worked for to get to this point now in jeopardy. For this reason, I¡¯d show him no mercy.


    The desperation was clear as day, even in the terms he had put forth. I wasn¡¯t so sure a sponsorship deal could just as easily be transferred to someone else, and nobody would want him in the Natural Disasters. Either he was fishing to see whether I was money or career focused, or he was trying to ruin us completely by taking the team down with him.


    It would only be more cliche if he had tried to fight me for Roxy¡¯s hand, but he obviously no longer cared about her in that way - even if it would have made better television. He was using us for his career and to get back into the limelight, and wasn¡¯t eager to have that cut short with one of us beating him to a pulp.


    Clara had a list of potential heroic scenarios that the Arena might contain, but hadn¡¯t told me any yet. I just wanted to know if a fight was on the cards or not.


    With a sigh, I closed my eyes.


    The reason for my long soak wasn¡¯t just because I had earned it, but I was also passing the time before a message came through. Stacy had mentioned the last of the contestants were being vetted and would be available this afternoon.


    Once I received that, I would go into the basement and scrape up any details on my competitors from Roxy¡¯s murder-boards. As much as putting Maestro in his place was my goal, I had to rise above every else there.


    Ironic that after spending years being an unknown in the shadows, I would now be aiming to become the publicized star of a tournament of heroics, but life was chaotic. Ever changing.


    I lifted up one of my cybernetic feet from the water and regarded it. As much as I was becoming more machine than man, I didn¡¯t feel any less of myself. The new me didn¡¯t feel more like Bard, either - and I certainly wasn¡¯t Agent W anymore. Perhaps the man I currently am was a primordial ooze. A mix of everything I had been and everything I wanted to be.


    Or perhaps I had been in the warm bath too long and was becoming soup.


    With a second, longer sigh, I decided to get out. Grabbed a towel and stood by the mirror. I leaned forward to inspect my face. With Roxy¡¯s birthday coming up, I had wondered about my own age. The trouble with trying to gage such a thing based on appearance was that I didn¡¯t know how much my super-soldier magic caused me to stay in peak form.


    Even with all the power behind me, I didn¡¯t feel like much of a spring chicken. Maybe since we decided that my hero-day was also my birthday, we could also come to a consensus on an age for me.


    As I dried myself off, a message came through my STAR.


    //Clara: Don¡¯t bother getting dressed. Come find me.


    //Dubs: Oxygen tank surgery?


    //Clara: Correct.


    //Dubs: Be there in five.


    It wasn¡¯t going to be anything that required a long recovery, so this seemed like a good time to get it done. The ability to flush out my breathing tube was handy enough, but the built-in oxygen tank should give me a short period of being able to stay submerged in water or stuck in noxious gas. If I was going to be a cyborg, then I might as well grasp at some of the benefits offered to me.


    Although I wasn¡¯t sure where the oxygen tank was actually going to fit. Clara would surely have an idea.


    I dressed my lower half but left my top off, figuring the techie might have to dig in there during the process. Down the stairs and I was immediately assailed by Warlock waiting in the lobby.


    [What ails you? Is this a request for uppies?]


    The sound he made confirmed it. I picked him up and took a detour to get a fresh canister from the kitchen before heading to the workshop. Another pleasant day outside. I hadn¡¯t been informed of the plans to set up the command center out here, but this was soon to be a bustling hub, a far cry from my solitary shack.


    Pretty neat, all things considered.


    I pushed into the workshop to see Clara set up with her table and the bed all waiting for me. She raised an eyebrow at the guest I had brought along with me, but Warlock just started purring in response. After closing the door I placed Warlock down on the cat tree here. I wasn¡¯t sure if I had been neglecting my cat-dad duties lately, but if not with Clara, then he seemed relatively content to do his own thing.


    ¡°This should only take an hour at most, Gunquake,¡± Clara said, glancing over at me. ¡°As long as there are no complications.¡±


    [How likely is that?]


    ¡°There¡¯s always a chance.¡± She gestured for me to lay on the bed. ¡°The tank is enough for two minutes of breathing while your re-breather filter is closed off. Anything longer would be too heavy and may have issues, as I plan on installing it internally."


    [Is there room under my mask?]


    I glanced over at the tray to see the item, but it was much wider and longer than my canisters. Even if I could put it under my mask, it might be uncomfortable when moving around or with the additional weight.


    However, something else I noticed was the techie¡¯s hand. She was wearing a fingerless tech glove on her right¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t that unusual when she was working¡ªbut my eyes were drawn to her index finger.


    [Since when did you have a cybernetic finger?]


    At first I thought it might be some manner of sleeve over the digit, but as it moved, it was clearly her actual finger. Skeletal, almost, but made of dark metal.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± She hesitated, but just raised an aloof eyebrow. ¡°You don¡¯t have a monopoly on upgrades, you know?¡±


    [That was a voluntary choice?]


    ¡°To¡­ some degree. While I still have my severed finger and could have reattached it, I took the opportunity to practice my skills and utilize some tech we had languishing in stock.¡± Clara maintained a neutral expression.


    I wasn¡¯t too sure whether I should be worried that she had lost a finger during her work here or not. The amount of tech development and other unknown processes she had been doing in secret clearly had some danger to them, and having it all done in what was essentially our backyard was¡­ not ideal. I narrowed my eyes as I laid myself down on the bed.


    [Should I be worried you might get injured further?]


    ¡°No. It¡¯s very sweet that you would worry, Gunquake. It is a minor inconvenience, and a mistake that I won¡¯t make again.¡± She picked up the tool used to unseal my mask. ¡°Sometimes technical progress comes at a cost. You, of all people, should know sacrifices are often required.¡±


    I grunted, for lack of a better response. The parts of my new arm and whatever related tech utilized runes or that stolen artefact were in a different section of the workshop, so I couldn¡¯t even spy anything to clue me in to how she had lost the finger. I wasn¡¯t particularly pleased about it, but it was done now.


    [Will you need to put me out cold for this?]


    ¡°Local anesthesia would be enough if you¡¯re not too squeamish. Your choice.¡±


    [Awake. I¡¯ll focus on the ceiling.]


    ¡°As you wish.¡±


    I looked up at the plain white above me and sighed. Before I had the chance to relax and settle in for my surgery, a message bloomed up into my vision.


    //Silhouette: We need to talk. Tonight.

 139 - Chit Chat

    The surgery went without a hitch. Perhaps a given, but it always brought me some comfort when things went well.


    Clara¡¯s insistence that we gave the oxygen tank a test run was a little more unpalatable. While I was apprehensive about wasting it, she assured me that it gradually replenished by syphoning a small amount of air from my every breath - when needed. Then she essentially attempted to waterboard me a few times, all unsuccessful.


    Even being able to breathe under duress, it wasn¡¯t a pleasant sensation. Something I¡¯d mentally have to accept, even though my body was thankful for the necessary oxygen.


    Before she could think of other ways to torture me, I gave her my thanks and left. Perhaps I should have asked her more about her ploy to get the new V-Force drive, but my mind had been elsewhere with everything going on, and it was only a handful of minutes before I was down in the basement.


    First section I went to was the S-Rank heroes. Amusingly, Roxy had just stuck a blank piece of paper to the wall with ¡®Silhouette¡¯ written along the bottom. There were no further notes. Even in her madness, she still had a lick of humor. That said, the S-Rank board was the least populated when it came to both number of figures, as well as the data collected.


    Either she was leaving them to last, knowing that they would probably be the gate keeping her from taking the League down, or she had the information processed mentally. They were both the most publicly known, yet protective heroes in Goldarch.


    It wasn¡¯t like I had been expecting the reason for my brother¡¯s message to appear down here, but it was worth checking, anyway. Maybe he had gotten wind of Clara¡¯s plan and was warning me off. He could have dug up his past and realized that he used to be my enemy.


    Or we could just sit down and share a brew together, as long-lost kin.


    I rolled my eyes at my internal monologue and switched back to the task at hand. With Stacy¡¯s list of Heroism Arena participants in one side of my vision, I looked around to see who I was really up against.


    For now, I skipped looking at Maestro. Had already memorized every letter of the information Roxy had put down. While his powers gave him an advantage over me in some situations, I had the upper hand in others. He was the most well-established and highest Rank of hero going in to the Arena.


    Which meant he had the most to lose.


    Most of the others were C or D-Ranks with minor or unimpressive superpowers. As I wouldn¡¯t be fighting them, I didn¡¯t worry too much about their details. I just had to be a better hero than them. More of a showman, I was sure.


    The one that actually caught my attention was Blue Bulwark from Urban Guardians - the team we had just pushed down to tenth place. A durability hero that looked like a giant beetle. This was clearly a desperate attempt to claw their position back, and was perhaps even riskier a ploy than my attendance.


    If they had a poor showing, the League might shatter their team completely and put together something new to take up that last spot. In an all-out brawl, I probably wouldn¡¯t be able to do much to them without risking killing them. Roxy¡¯s notes actually rated the hero quite highly in terms of damage mitigation¡­ but that was essentially all they had going for them.


    An interesting appearance carried them in the public eye for a while, but once the novelty passed, the rest of the team could only carry them so far.


    The rest of the contestants were below me both in firepower and combat experience. They had been heroes longer and had me beat on the minor acts of good that I had breezed past in a dervish of violence and shotgun shells.


    I sighed and looked around the room. While all of these people were meant to be allies and colleagues, I couldn¡¯t help but believe that some of them were anything but that. Beyond the scope of office politics, some might be working for the World Government, or weren¡¯t opposed to playing dirty to keep me at ground level.


    The downside of notoriety and self permanance. I had long accepted it, but now I had to deal with it.


    Before leaving the basement, I gave one last look at Silhouette¡¯s meagre information board. At first it seemed he had wanted to begrudingly support me from a distance, needling me every so often in the way I imagined a brother would. His request for an audience tonight didn¡¯t sit well with that narrative.


    Nor did his chosen location.


    I had done my research, as I¡¯m sure he knew I would. An abandoned warehouse. Top floor. In an area where no team was patroling tonight at the time requested. It was almost too obvious a trap - so he was either messing with me, or just knew deep down I wouldn¡¯t bail on it despite that knowledge.


    Given that it would be interrupting my schedule and messing with my beauty sleep, he''d better hope to keep me in a good mood.


    I climbed the stairs and closed the basement. Locked it. I¡¯d have to get a nap in now, and then sleep after my patrol, if I had any hope of maintaining any sort of order to be awake at the same time as everyone else.


    Clara was keen to fill my head with the data syphoned from the last how ever many Heroism Arenas, and had put on a feigned pout when I told her my itinerary for the day post-surgery. As a compromise, I assured her I would be reading it before I drifted off, and during any lulls in my patrol.


    While looking longingly at the sunny day outside, I went upstairs to the bathroom and washed off. Retired to the bedroom and closed the curtains to enact a faux darkness. Once under the covers, I looked up at the ceiling and brought up some of the data in my STAR.


    Out of the variety of ¡®games¡¯ the Arena put us all through, four of the contests were near guaranteed.


    Rescuing civilians from a disaster. Stopping an escaping criminal vehicle. Fighting a monster. Saving hostages from a minor villain.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    The other events weren¡¯t guaranteed, but those four seemed to be recurring in all but one Arena as they were what the public loved seeing the most. After all, this was a reality show in some way, so ratings and views counted just as much as anything.


    Any other game was toss-up. There had been a few stealth missions over the years. Scenarios where the hero had to escape dangerous situations. Of course, there was also the rare duel. Only occuring twice in the history Clara had scraped, but I liked those odds. If the League had any sense, they¡¯d make it happen just because it would be good television.


    I wouldn¡¯t find out until arriving at the location, naturally. Each one of the Natural Disasters had offered me training and advice sessions over their believed strengths or experiences. My calendar had never been so full, and I felt¡­ calm about it.


    There was still the slimmest fragment of my psyche that told me I could just put a Sanguine stake through Maestro at the Arena, and that would count as a win in my heart.


    Thankfully, that part of me didn¡¯t have much of a say in such matters. There was still plenty of room in me for wanton violence, but that urge was controlled by my brain now - and I thought I was in control. We had been making this hero thing work, and I enjoyed that.


    Both Roxy and I had been seeking freedom to escape the confines of Goldarch or the World Government¡­ but things under the Directors here wasn¡¯t bad by any stretch of the word. Running patrols and jumping through the League¡¯s hoops was rather droll, but I needed that plain existence as a palette cleanser for all the intense violence and constant murder.


    We had both grown as people, and hadn¡¯t even reached our peaks yet.


    That said, I wanted closure on Boss and the whole super-soldier bullshit. While I had probably escaped the scouring gaze of the World Government with all the modifications and new identity, living in Goldarch was also putting me under the microscope. Only a matter of time before I was found out.


    Perhaps that had been the plan all along. Boss had been orchestrating things behind the scenes for years, turning me into a strong weapon of war that was capable of change. Was it all to get revenge on the Gov who had screwed him over? His ¡®sons¡¯? From the moment he saved my life, he had slid me toward the inevitable.


    Revenge against the one who slaughtered the squad.


    The image of that figure standing above me as I lay dying emerged into my mind as I closed my eyes. Still no clearer than it had ever been. Just muddied shapes as my life had eked away.


    With a deep sigh, I relaxed and fell asleep.


    An uncomfortable rest that had me feeling groggy as soon as the alarm woke me up. I hated existence and needed a fresh canister. It was dark out now, and Roxy would be home from her patrol soon.


    I grunted and left the comfort of the bed. Washed my face off again to try to get some life back in my eyes. Walked my way to the warehouse to get ready. Clara was working, as usual, the occasional flash of blue light appearing at the workshop windows causing me to wince as I made my way across the garden.


    As did the message coming through the STAR.


    //Roxy: Clara has me on hobgoblin duty.


    //Roxy: So I won¡¯t be home for a few more hours.


    //Roxy: Sorry, babe x


    //Dubs: No problem. I¡¯m leaving soon to go meet up with Silhouette.


    //Roxy: Business or pleasure?


    //Dubs: Probably.


    I closed it down and ignored her annoyed response. Going to the hobgoblins meant working on my arm more, so I couldn¡¯t be mad at her for it. Would have been nice to see her before I left, but perhaps that was just the terrible sleep making me grouchy.


    In the warehouse, I suited up. Usual city gear, aimed toward debilitating or stunning criminals. Given the meeting I shortly due to arrive at, my selectloader had some more¡­ effective ammunition. Sanguine stake included.


    It wasn¡¯t just for my brother, however. If he truly wanted me dead, he could ambush me any time that I wasn¡¯t at home. With the League of Villains festering in the shadows, I didn¡¯t doubt that my impromptu path-crossing with Red Dust wasn¡¯t going to be a one-off.


    Egotistical, maybe. Goldarch had plenty of A or S-Rank heroes to the point where I didn¡¯t have to be the one always getting his hand dirty. I broke a few molds on becoming Gunquake, but that didn¡¯t I was the solution to every problem.


    Damn, I really hoped I¡¯d get to beat up some criminals tonight.


    Fully dressed, I then made sure I had spare stims and canisters on my person. The Meteor always had a handful, but I wanted the extra precaution tonight. After adjusting my grapple gauntlet, I gave one last forlorn look at our home. Then it was time to move.


    Into my vehicle and then I was off to the city. We had gotten a few complaints about the Meteor being a little too impractical for driving around the streets. A number of people had called us menaces. Too noisy and inconsiderate about space. The League had relayed these messages to us, but had made no attempt to dissuade us from using the vehicle. I had no intention of stopping, but was looking forward to using it out in the wastes where it would excel.


    The meeting with Silhouette was closer to the east side of the city, which was a pain given that my patrol was more southern than usual. I forgot which of the teams were in charge of the northeast quadrant of Goldarch, but hopefully I didn¡¯t step on any toes.


    More fool me for constantly getting into trouble. I should be more thankful that my life was slowing down slightly. There were things I could sit around and enjoy without the threat of something bad happening to me as a constant presence. Like my bed - I¡¯d really like to get more sleep.


    Between my internal grumblings and constant flickering between the targets I needed to knock down in the coming week, the travel across the city didn¡¯t take too long. The roads were nearly empty as I rolled the Meteor through a district filled with offices and workshops. Then I was there.


    I parked up outside the planned meeting place. A dark building of five floors, the windows reflecting the nearby streetlight, but otherwise pitch black. From the looks of it, it had been completed some time ago, but never bought and furnished. The yard surrounding it still had stacks of construction materials that were cheaper to leave behind rather than recover.


    After leaving the vehicle, I rolled out my shoulders and surveyed the area. Looked relatively dead, as we were long past working hours. This sort of location was my bread and butter, by my subconscious was trying to dig around for anything out of place. A reason to be more alert than I was currently.


    Rather than use my grapple to get to the top of the building, I treated myself with the scenic route. A short walk around the side of the building and I found the fire exit in the form of an external metal staircase - a door on each floor. With a sigh, I ascended.


    Part of me was already tiring of the need to patrol. My job tomorrow would be to twist the League into giving me some actual missions. It wasn¡¯t likely I¡¯d get anything dangerous with the Heroism Arena coming up, but walking around in peace and getting trolled by old homeless men wasn¡¯t how I envisioned my skillset being used.


    I made it to the top floor with no issue, aside from maybe slightly regretting not just using my grapple. The door grunted as it shifted, opening up with a little force applied to it. There was a chill to the air as the room beyond was long, with no separations built in the space. Just pillars of concrete.


    Rather than use my flashlight, I switched on nightvision in my goggles.


    Unsurprisingly, there was nothing waiting for me in the shadows. Not anything I could currently see, anyway. My chamber wasn¡¯t loaded, but I was prepared to switch something in should the need arise.


    I let the door close behind me, and I walked slowly over to the wide windows near the front of the building. Even with how near-silent my footsteps were on a good day, there was a slight echo in this vacant space.


    Just before I made it halfway to the front of the building, I paused in place.


    [Good evening, brother.]


    The space beside me shimmered as Silhouette faded into view.


    His yellow eye flickered briefly as he pulled back the hammer of the pistol pressed against the side of my head.


    ¡°Evening, brother,¡± he responded. ¡°It might not be a good one.¡±

 140 - Cut from the Same

    If there was one thing that could be said about the current situation, it was that it was a good distraction from my boring patrol coming up. While Silhouette stood unwavering, the pistol still against the side of my head, I felt rather¡­ happy.


    [A rather archaic weapon for you, is it not?]


    ¡°The right tool for the right job, Gunquake,¡± he responded. ¡°This is one of the illegal firearms you are meant to be investigating. How unfortunate your quarry caught you snooping around and put an end to you.¡±


    I had to admire that. While there wasn¡¯t other evidence of such gangs in this building¡­ although, I hadn¡¯t checked the other floors. Perhaps this had been the perfect setup.


    [Interesting. Thank you for bringing me closer to the case.]


    Silhouette sighed, his single eye flickering. ¡°You could at least pretend to be worried. Are you that dissociated from your own mortality?¡±


    [Are you still pretending to be a threat?]


    He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. Silhouette lowered the gun. ¡°You should be more diligent brother. I do have a contract to kill you.¡±


    I turned to him. His posture was more relaxed, but he hadn¡¯t unloaded the gun. Not that he¡¯d need it to kill me, most likely - but just as when I had entered the building, I didn¡¯t consider him a threat. The news was a little surprising, so I tilted my head.


    [Oh? Anyone I know?]


    ¡°Even if I¡¯m not going to do the deed, I¡¯m not going to reveal that.¡±


    Disappointing. I wondered if it was the World Government, one of my detractors amongst the League¡¯s directorship, or even Maestro. The fact that my brother ran hit jobs on the side made sense, and amused me, given my history.


    [Are you really tarnishing your reputation by letting me live?]


    Silhouette shrugged. ¡°While my contracts are under the stipulation that I don¡¯t kill innocents, we both know you don¡¯t even graze such a word. However, I have decided to add family as a no-go.¡±


    [That¡¯s why you¡¯re my favorite brother. I take it the contract will go to someone else?]


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He looked over at the windows at the front of the building. ¡°The client is resourceful and used to getting what they want. But this is the last time I¡¯m pulling your ass out of the fire, brother. Be thankful that they didn¡¯t know about our kinship beforehand.¡±


    Few did, but that small circle included some at the League. That meant it wasn¡¯t Director Kingston at the least, or those who worked closely with him. Maybe it was an entirely new figure looking to get into trouble. It was a smart decision to withhold their name, otherwise I¡¯d have to dig out some of my old skills.


    [There was probably an easier method of telling me than putting a gun to my head.]


    ¡°Just sibling things, I guess. It took me a while to accept and understand that we were of the same stock, but every time we interact, I believe it all the more.¡±


    [Well, I¡¯d offer to get a drink sometime so we can catch-up, but¡­]


    I lifted up a finger and tapped at the side of my neck, indicating the nutritional canister.


    ¡°We are indeed brothers.¡± Silhouette pressed on a recessed button on the front of his suit, popping open a flap on the right side of his stomach. There was an indentation that looked as though it accepted small spheres. ¡°Nutritional balls. I cannot eat or drink normally either.¡±


    [Cybernetics?]


    He shook his head and closed the flap. ¡°Minimal and functional only. I cannot remove my mask, otherwise my face would disintegrate from my skull. Some manner of disease. Before you ask, yes, I¡¯ve tried. Some organ and skin cybernetics to keep me alive, but nothing notable.¡±


    [Your invisibility?]


    ¡°My superpower, although I feel as though you are asking because you know the answer already, but want my response.¡±


    [Imagine that I am smiling right now.]


    ¡°Same, brother.¡±


    Much like how my magical abilities came from the infused nanites running through my body, that¡¯s how he functioned. Not quite magic, not quite tech - which is why I could sense his uniqueness when others couldn¡¯t. Kin by design, even if not by nature.


    [How much have you learned about your past? Our past.]


    He made a grunting noise, and his yellow eye hummed. ¡°To be frank, I care not for what was before. The old me who worked for the World Government is long dead. Mistakes and actions they committed are not weights that drag me down now. Same goes for any allegiance or disagreements we might have had.¡±


    I held out my hand for him to shake.


    [To our futures, then.]


    He returned the gesture, but then pulled me in for a hug. ¡°Don¡¯t expect this to be anything more than a rarity, Gunquake. My position means I am unable to fraternize with¡­ anyone, really. So no need to invite me to your next party.¡±


    [The League really has you that pinned down?]


    ¡°There are several reasons. Certain expectations are placed on me and being seen socializing with you could be harmful for both of our careers.¡±


    [Shame. My inner circle has been growing, and you¡¯d always be more than welcome to be a part of it.]


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He sighed and then stepped away. ¡°A temptation that is more deadly than this gun. Here, Gunquake.¡±


    With a quick motion, he emptied the chamber of the pistol and removed the magazine. He then handed them both over to me. An olive branch and a clue for my personal quest of digging up the cause of illegal firearms becoming more common in Goldarch.


    [Appreciated. The League won¡¯t give me any tech to protect me from bullets until I solve the case. Ironic, huh? Oh, and you can call me Dubs.]


    Silhouette crossed his arms and hesitated for a moment, before his yellow light dimmed slightly. ¡°Xan. Few know this name, but it seems only right my only family would. Just don¡¯t go spreading it about.¡±


    [My lips are sealed.]


    I tapped on the side of my re-breather with the end of my gun-arm. Despite him being a S-Rank hero and far more experience and deadly than me, I saw us as equals. Silhouette could sense it too - the bond that joined us in blood. I respected his wish to leave the past alone, even if there were still questions on my mind that needed answers.


    Perhaps in time he would want to know more. If that came to pass, then I¡¯d be there to support him however he needed. Assuming I hadn¡¯t been assassinated, anyway.


    [What do you think about my decision to join the Heroism Arena?]


    He replaced his posture as I put the firearm away in one of my pouches. ¡°Reckless and fueled by emotion.¡±


    [You don¡¯t think I could beat Maestro?]


    ¡°If this was a fight, then I would have faith that you would succeed, albeit not without some struggle. That is irrelevant, however. The Arena is about tests of heroism, of which I am undecided on whether you have the necessary experience to come out in first place.¡±


    I rubbed at the side of my head. Silhouette almost sounded disappointed, which added barbs to his statement. Not that he was wrong, but I much preferred the positive and encouraging attitude of the Natural Disasters¡­ all of whom were eager to train me. Hmm.


    [Interesting. Perhaps you have some advice or training to provide then?]


    ¡°No.¡±


    [Oh. So you really did call me out here just to warn me there was a price on my head, but I should be thankful you had no intention of collecting it.]


    His eye did a strange pulse, as if it was rolling. ¡°I have something to give you, but if you¡¯re going to be a child about it, I might just keep it for myself.¡±


    [Do we need to fight for it?]


    Silhouette chuckled. ¡°If you had this same personality from before our rebirth, then it doesn¡¯t surprise me you caused a split in the group. No, not everything is a challenge or something to be fought over. Is it wrong to have wanted some conversation with my brother before parting ways?¡±


    Surprisingly, he was being earnest. It struck me how lonely it must be for him, not only as a S-Rank hero put on such a high pedestal, but as a stealth based hero he was naturally out of sight. With similar gear keeping him alive, there wasn¡¯t much of a normal life he could live. Now that he accepted our shared history, he had someone he could bond with.


    [Hmm. When I surpass you and become S-Rank, I will still invite you to hang out.]


    He chuckled again, but this time much more animatedly. His singular eye-light grew brighter as he held his chest. ¡°No offense intended, but you are quite some way before that is even a distant possibility.¡±


    [My promise still stands, no matter how long it takes.]


    Silhouette shook his head and sighed. ¡°Were I not shackled to the rules of the League, perhaps there is more I could do to help you. Together, we would be quite the team. Unfortunately, this is the best I have to offer at present.¡±


    From the back of his suit, he unclipped a small box. A discreet case sealed with a lock. He lifted it up and held it out for me to take.


    [Should I even ask?]


    ¡°A V-Force drive,¡± he replied. ¡°Something tells me you¡¯re in the market for one.¡±


    [Oh. Our plans are that transparent, are they?]


    He tilted his head to the side as I took the box from him. ¡°There are a few people in the League who monitor the dark web for anything untoward. The contract for the theft was deemed unimportant by the department, but I connected the dots.¡±


    [So you stole this yourself?]


    ¡°I have recommended that the Natural Disasters be the ones chosen to arrest the gang. You¡¯ll get the credit for stopping them without having to worry about disappearing some of the tech taken.¡± He looked out at the window again. ¡°Don¡¯t assume you¡¯re the first to think of such a plan, as there are plenty of heroes desperate for attention and praise. Once found out by the League¡­ well, let¡¯s just say that¡¯s the last time you¡¯d ever be found.¡±


    [Pulling the gun on me seems a little immature now, knowing you had all this planned.]


    ¡°We both know if I wanted you dead, then you would be.¡±


    Either from a distance, or before I even knew it. His aloof, mysterious mask was figuratively falling away. Having him as an occasional ally, alongside my partnership with Kingston, was helpful with surviving the ebb and flow of the League. As if he could read my mind, his light dulled, and he continued.


    ¡°Politics in the League are¡­ complicated as of late. A few different cliques in the directorship are clamoring for power and control. All of us need to keep our noses clean and jump when told. Once the dust settles and there¡¯s a new hand guiding the ship, we want to be alive and in their favor.¡±


    [You make it sound like there will be a purge.]


    Silhouette turned from me, as if he was ready to leave. ¡°Don¡¯t get complacent, Dubs. Goldarch is a fragile state that appears strong.¡±


    [Is this goodbye then, Xan?]


    He waved me off as he turned fully. ¡°Enjoy your patrol. I¡¯ll be watching the Arena.¡±


    I tilted my head as he started walking off toward the darkness, his form shimmering and fading from view.


    [You know I can sense you. There¡¯s no need to showboat for me.]


    ¡°Keep thinking that,¡± he whispered, his disembodied voice swirling around the open space. ¡°That¡¯ll ensure you¡¯re always a step below me.¡±


    I sighed, although it was an action more out of contentedness than anything. Knowing that Silhouette saw the past as just that, and he wasn¡¯t going to be my enemy anytime soon, was a relief. That he embraced our kinship was just icing on the cake. Both of us fractured toys left to neglect, but had found new purpose and energy for living. It was a shame that he couldn¡¯t join my motley crew of misfits, but everything had the right time and place.


    Just like the shell I had loaded in my shotgun all this time.


    V-Force drive burned into life as I raised my arm. Synapse connection pulled the trigger.


    Around forty-five feet down the long room, my ammunition struck one of the concrete pillars on the edge. The Water shot burst and sprayed across the area.


    A few seconds of silence passed before Silhouette shimmered into view beside the pillar. Part of his suit was now soaked.


    [Don¡¯t get complacent, brother.]


    He flipped me off before vanishing again, leaving me feeling rather validated. He had given me lots to think about. More vague threats about the stability of Goldarch and someone wanting me dead¡­ but neither felt like problems I could currently solve.


    Instead, I went to share some of the good news.


    //Dubs: I have an important package to give you when I return.


    //Clara: Really, Gunquake? I¡¯d prefer to go without distraction¡­


    //Clara: But for you, I¡¯ll make an exception.


    //Dubs: It¡¯s specifically for you to work on.


    //Clara: I appreciate the flattery.


    //Dubs: The package is a V-Force drive.


    //Clara: Even better, then. Dare I ask how you procured it?


    //Dubs: I¡¯ll fill you in when I¡¯m home.


    //Clara: How exciting~


    I closed the chat down, figuring I was potentially getting brain damage by trying to communicate with the techie. Undoubtedly, handing the tech over to her in the early morning once I returned would cut down some of the time that making my arm would take.


    Whether that was going to be before the Heroism Arena or not was still something I was hesitant to ask. I glanced over at the wet pillar before turning and walking out the way I came. As much as I wanted to avoid my patrol, I had to do my duty.


    If there was one message that lingered within my mind from my brief chat with Silhouette, it was his warning not to get complacent. The fact that there was a power struggle going on within the League was a dangerous thing for Goldarch - especially since a few of those in power didn¡¯t like me.


    I made the mental note to check in with Director Kingston.


    If there was any change to be made, I wanted to put my finger on the scales.