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.
----------------------------------------
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.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
Roxy helped put my canister in—which was bliss—while 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—well, 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—one 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.”