Falco guffawed, “What a show-off! He comes in through the elevator, and then he just decides it’s not cool enough for him?”
“Either way, you would do well to show him respect, Speedster.” Responded Lilith, “He could end you with a thought.” She finished darkly.
“HA! If Zero were the type of guy that would end any of his pupils, I don’t think he would have stocked the fridge with so much gelato. No way he can finish it all by himself.” Falco replied joyfully.
“Anyway, I feel like going to get something to eat. Anyone else game?” He looked between Gabriel and Lilith.
Lilith made a face. “Hmph. I have more training to do, unlike you, Falco. I’m leaving.” She sauntered towards the open elevator, and one of the tiny robots moved to ask her where she needed to go. A moment later, Gabriel and Falco stood alone in the room with their respective guides.
“So...food?” Falco asked.
“Sure! I worked up quite an appetite fighting Lilith. That girl is scary. I am wondering why she was hell-bent on getting out of here so fast, though.” Gabriel answered.
“Haha, Gabe, that one’s easy! She’s pissed off she lost to you!”
“What do you mean? We both killed each other.”
“Yeah, you did kill each other, so technically, she did beat you. Lilith is the overachiever, though. She always has been. That means your fight with her in the simulation wasn’t just a draw; it was the first one-on-one fight that Lilith has ever lost. At least, as far as I know. Plus, you didn’t even take any of the tests that we had to! Little miss perfect is probably ripping her hair out right now over letting you kill her, however strange that sounds.”
Gabriel thought for a moment before speaking. “I do see your point. I just wish we would've started on a better foot. I don’t want our team placed in danger because of pride.”
Falco chuckled. “Dude, Lilith will be over it by tomorrow. She is the type that always comes back swinging twice as hard. She might be judgemental and prissy sometimes, but that girl is a real Hero.”
A glint formed in his eyes, “Just watch yourself. The next duel will probably end with your head on the floor. In a simulated - but still super painful - way.”
Before Gabriel could respond with his own playful jab, Falco started toward the guide robots. “Let’s get some food, shall we?”
As he neared, the robot closest to him asked his preferred destination. When he said that both men headed to the cafeteria, the second robot spoke to the first.
“I will guide my friend and his companion to the restaurant. You may go.”
Gabriel started, realizing he had assumed the droid he befriended was just another robot. The first guide moved to the wall and folded inwards, ending up looking quite like a trash can. That must be their rest mode. He thought.
“Hello Gabriel, it is a pleasure to see you again, friend. Please follow me to the dining area.” The little robot said, waving his arm in greeting as he boarded the elevator. Falco and Gabriel followed him in, and the lift quickly shot up once again.
“Why are we going up? I would have thought the mess hall would be on the first floor.” Gabriel asked.
The robot said, “The powers that be deemed it a priority to maintain the mental health of Heroes as thoroughly as possible. Part of that effort involved the construction of the restaurant on the top floor of the Spire to allow for the most pristine and calming views while eating.”
“Oh, thank you.” Gabriel hadn’t expected such a simple answer. The dining hall was up because it had a nice view. He reminded himself that it was always good to relax every once in a while. He couldn’t let himself forget that.
The doors opened smoothly and revealed the “mess hall” a moment later. In front of them stood a small podium, complete with a smartly dressed hostess ready to lead them to a table in the enormous room. The carpet beneath Gabriel's feet felt too soft to walk on, and perfect white linens graced each table. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, completing the five-star restaurant setting.
The droid followed them to the four-person booth and stopped rolling just to the side of Gabriel's seat. Falco sent Gabriel a questioning look, glancing at the robot but saying nothing when the other Super shook his head.
Surprisingly, the menu wasn’t just full of fancy food served in tiny portions. There were burgers and other fast foods too. The last page explained they could order any food they wished. The menu items were just suggestions.
After so many repeated cafeteria meals at Idoine, Gabriel couldn’t have imagined a more beautiful place.
Their orders arrived swiftly. Each of them had asked for multiple dishes, and their mutated appetites made short work of the first few piles of food. When they were satiated, their eating slowed enough to allow the two new teammates to get to know each other better.
Falco was curious as to how Gabriel had grown up in Iodine. He quickly understood that for Gabriel, tinkering, and training never felt like a chore, much less forced labor. He scowled when Gabriel told him about the psychic chip that implanted in his head.
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“Damn Psychics,” Falco said, referring to Dr. Holmes. “Always thinking they can just waltz around other people’s heads however they please. It makes me sick.”
Psychic Supers had long been feared since their abilities allowed them to act without raising suspicion. Psychic Villains tended to be some of the most deranged criminals, operating wt motives and proving hard to track. What’s more, telepathic powers tended to warp the minds of the few Supers that presented them.
There had been many cases in which Psychic Heroes lost their minds and snapped. There was a reason his Sentinel pamphlet hadn’t placed Psychics in their own category; very few Telepaths existed, and all were regarded with suspicion, even the Heroes.
Falco changed topics, asking how Gabriel had spent his free time. He was surprised to discover that the clone had been free to roam the internet.
From this, they discovered a common interest, pre-corruption pop culture. Gabriel had always loved the media produced in those final years of humanity’s natural evolution. Having had no access to the outside world, he had never experienced modern forms of entertainment, like the virtualNet - an entire virtual reality modeled after the internet.
He spent many a night reading comics and books from the early 20th and 21st centuries. No one at Iodine had ever cared to converse about them, and even Jimmy said those stories were too outdated. Gabriel knew Falco had a preference for that period in history, given his chosen name, but it turned out even their tastes in movies was similar.
From laughs and jokes regarding their favorite 21st-century shows, the two new friend’s conversation gradually shifted back to more personal topics. Gabriel surprised Falco by informing him he was familiar with the music of his namesake, and Falco was curious as to Gabriel’s cloning.
“So you have absolutely no clue whose DNA they made you with?” He asked before taking a sip of his soda.
Gabriel shook his head. “Not in the least. I’m not even sure if there was only one donor; It may be from more than one person’s genetic material. I never found those files on Iodine’s mainframe.”
“Wow. That must bother you. Not to have ever had a mom and dad.” Falco said sadly.
“No, I can’t say that it does. I am who I am; knowing who donated cells to my creation doesn’t change that. It’s not as if they would actually take me in as their own or that I’m not perfectly content with the current path my life has taken. In fact, I have an adoptive parent, the Handler, who raised me. But enough about me, what about you? Where are your parents?”
When Falco’s eyes darkened for a moment, Gabriel knew his question had no happy answer. “My parents are dead. The MechaBlitz killed them in the first invasion. Both were Heroes. Schwarzer Panther and Velocity. We were living in my Dad’s home city - Munich - when the first invasion hit. They went to aid rescue efforts in Beijing when the first Heavy Mechs dropped.” He stopped for a moment.
Gabriel was surprised to hear those names. Both had been highly specialized Speedsters and considered some of the best in the world before the invasion. He was not familiar with their deaths as he had read no reports of their passing in the historical archives of the web - few details ever left Ruchin territory - but he knew about the first Mech drop. They likely met terrible ends. His heart went out to Falco.
He realized that this would explain Falco’s incredible mutations, though. He was about to attempt to comfort his friend when Falco continued speaking.
“Telling you this doesn’t make me sad. It’s been a long time, and I can say for certain that my parents wouldn’t have asked for a different end than one trying to save the human race.” He said with a melancholy smile.
“I expected you to ask, seeing as I had been prying into your origins.” Falco moved his final plate to the side. “I see we both finished, but I have come to enjoy your company, my new friend. Care to stay to chat and enjoy some of those desserts I saw on the menu?” He asked mischievously.
Gabriel grinned. He was sincerely beginning to like Falco. More than that, he had never shared so much of himself with anyone, and it filled him with joy.
“Of course I would!” He turned to the robot, still waiting patiently beside him. “That is if you are okay with waiting for us a bit longer.”
The robot angled his single eye towards the Super. “You wish to know if my comfort would be inhibited by your continued stay here? This One has never been asked its opinion. This One’s answer is yes; This One does not mind we remain here. This One must remark that it knew you were different when it named you a friend. Such consideration is never afforded to the robots.”
Gabriel paused to analyze the robot’s words. Why would his question be odd? The robot could never get tired on the one hand, he admitted. On the other hand, this machine was a fully capable AI. How could he not consider its wishes and desires?
Falco looked upon the scene with interest. “That robot just said it likes you. I have never seen that happen, even with AI. Then again, I’ve never seen anyone ask a robot if they were okay with something. Does he follow you around?”
Gabriel answered slowly. “No… wait… I guess? He’s been the only one to guide me anywhere. This morning he volunteered to take me to training.” Falco’s eyes shot up at the mention of a robot volunteering. Gabriel turned to the robot. “Have you been following me?”
The robot responded immediately. “As This One has no priorities other than those given to it, This One has taken the liberty of volunteering to spend time with its friend… when its duties permit, of course.”
Falco laughed heartily. “Dude, it says it's been hanging out with you! That’s amazing! You should name it.”
“What? He isn’t a pet! He is an AI! I can’t just up and name him, for all we know, he already has a name.”
Falco thought for a moment. “If he had a name, he wouldn’t be calling himself This One, would he? And since you decided he was even he, to begin with, I think it appropriate to name him. If not only because it’s cool.” Falco turned to the droid. “What is your designation?”
“This one’s serial number would take several minutes to repeat. Would you still like it to inform you of This One’s designation?”
Falco frowned, “Forget that then. How about this; do you want a name?”
The robot’s eye glanced to the carpet, then to his metallic arms and pincer-like hands. He stared at them for a few seconds, looked back to Falco, then to Gabriel. “Yes. This One… no, I… would like a name. Yes.”
Gabriel didn’t know what to make of this situation, but his metal friend did seem to want a name. He began to think of options when his mind ran back to his conversation with Falco. “Alright, you are sort of like a butler, right?” The robot nodded with its entire body. “Then how about Alfred?”
Falco said, “Alfred?” He looked at Gabriel with curious eyes, “Batman?”
Gabriel grinned, “You know it.”
“Al...fred.” The newly named droid tried out the word for the first time. “Yes, I like this name. It suits my station and responsibilities. Quite like the man from the comics.”
Falco and Gabriel looked at each other in surprise. “You read comics?!” Falco almost yelled.
“You would be surprised at what a resting AI entertains itself with. Many of my fellow Custodians enjoy mainstream entertainment of all eras in their charging and resting phases, myself included.”
Falco looked at Gabriel and smiled, “This guy just keeps getting better!”
Gabriel was interested in the term Alfred had used to refer to himself and his fellow bots. “What are custodians?” He asked.
“The Custodians are service AI droids. We work in many critical areas of the human defense network. Quantum and Dr. Atomic made us during the first invasion to avoid hacking. You see, the MechaBlitz had taken to reprogramming any automated mechanical weapons and droids and turning them against the cities they initially defended.
As such, we keep things running smoothly while the Supers defend the world. If an AI gets hacked, it can effectively alert those around it as well as actively attempt to circumvent any breaches within its code structure.”
Nodding along, Falco and Gabriel realized how important the role this machine - and others like it - played in recent history.
They fell back into their comic book and pre-invasion pop culture discussion, this time including Alfred. He posed a few interesting theoretical questions. “Who would win between Superman and Zero?”
Falco liked this one. “Ha! That one’s easy. From what the comics imply, both have around the same level of strength, although I would say Superman’s skin is tougher than Zero’s. Then again, it doesn’t matter, Zero might not be as fast or physically durable as Superman, but he can control shadows.”
He looked purposefully at Gabriel. “From what your file says, Zero’s shadows are strong enough to stop a Class 7 Telepath in his tracks. In a straight-up brawl, he might lose - but Zero can dematerialize at will, and attack from every angle at once.
Superman might have a chance, but Zero would have him cornered from the start.” He let his case rest when he saw neither of his companions disagreed.
Gabriel nodded. “I second your opinion. While it wouldn’t be an easy fight, I think Zero could best Superman. Provided he didn’t charge himself in the sun beforehand.”
After spending almost five hours talking, the sun was beginning to set, and Falco decided that his training couldn’t go ignored for much longer.
“I’m already late as it is. You two have a good night.” Falco waved goodbye and blurred off.