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—and now I was super nervous—but 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—all 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—morality aside—that 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.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
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—only 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—although I just tapped my canister—and 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.