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.

----------------------------------------

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?”

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[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.