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—while I still suspected ulterior motives—beneath 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.

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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—something outside of my nature—it 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.