It had to be a coincidence.
My mind swam, and there was no lifeguard on duty. Captain Snaps didn’t seem to be able to feel the burning glare I had focused on the back of his head. I checked my memory to make sure my fuzzed brain wasn’t just pairing up close-enough pointers to make a fact.
Boss was a very vague noun, my assumption being my employer wanted to obscure their identity. I wasn’t able to hear the capitalization in the speedster's tone, so it would be a leap to think that his 'boss' was the same boss as my Boss.
That said… he did fit the generic description I had been given for the contract. And he had all but admitted to being an informant. If that was the case, then who was he double-crossing with? The League sounded obvious enough, but it seemed too… I couldn’t swallow it down, for a variety of reasons.
Mind wasn’t focused much on my surroundings. A few tables blurred by as we passed, the furniture and occupants too dimly lit amongst the smokey atmosphere to register as anything of importance. Roy stopped at a doorway and either swiped something or pressed a keypad. Maybe both - but his speed and my drunk-adjacent senses didn’t catch it.
Door opened up and led us down some stairs. Plainer brickwork compared to the attempt at decent decor above. Cooler air, although not so fresh. Down and around, and there was a second door - this one covered by an armed guard. Rough looking slab of meat with plenty of scars and a shotgun across his chest. Big guy gave Roy a nod, dark eyes lingering on me for a second before he let us through.
And there it was.
Wasn’t too sure what I had expected, really. Despite my profession taking me adjacent to the criminal underworld on occasion, I couldn’t recall many times I’d seen an illegal fighting ring. Directly to my right were rows of benches that rose up one behind the other. Already a few groups sitting and talking amongst themselves. Mostly a bunch of dark suits, wavering smoke clouds, and tightly maintained facial hair. Dirty money people who knew how to spend it to look good. My eyes didn’t linger on them for too long, just in case my trigger finger got extra itchy.
Focus was drawn to what these benches were facing.
A wall of glass - probably Vibrex. Reinforced to stop not only bullets, but a decent amount of weaker super powers. On the other side of this transparent barrier was just a plain, open room. Gray stone all around, about twenty feet wide and thirty deep. Suspiciously clean, although it probably wasn’t basic concrete either. Also filled with a handful of occupants already.
“You’re on the cusp of registration, Roy. But we’ll make an exception.” One of the suited individuals stepped down from the benches. Pencil mustache, deep tan, wrinkled, eyes a surprisingly vibrant purple. Slicked back hair and an aura of cologne.
Didn’t recognize him, but I bet a good coroner would soon enough. Oh, this alcohol wasn’t good for my impulses.
“I’m always on time, Romanov.” Roy gave the man a wink. “Perks of my ability.”
“Indeed. Who is this Gunquake, then?” His eyes ran me up and down. “Dressed like a super, but isn’t on the roster you gave me. Armed like they rolled off the last cyberwar battlefield. And… the amount of money you bet on him passing the battle royale… are you trying to pull something, Roy?”
“He’s just a tough nut to crack. Wants to be a sidekick, so he is more than he looks.”
[The difficult part will be not killing everyone in this room.]
They both looked at me as if I had said something crazy, when it had just been a portent of things to come if they didn’t hurry the fuck up. I was still on edge about standing next to someone Boss potentially wanted me to kill, who was also my friends’ teammate and an actual fucking superhero.
Even if I wanted to, I didn’t have my anti-speedster gear set up or on me. What kind of example would I be setting for the squad to go in half-cocked? Plus, I wasn’t even sure I even wanted to tread that route. I was sweating up something fierce.
“You’re not tipping the pot here, Roy?” Romanov raised an eyebrow while still staring at me. “You know the limits on power.”
“No super powers and he knows not to use his gun. Right, Gunquake?”
I winced, before realizing that was my dumbass name now. Not sure I appreciated the question. Or the way their bodies were starting to swirl around my vision.
[Not even less-than-lethal ammunition?]
The suited pre-corpse shook his head. “Not for the first round, friend. We’ll see how you do. Of course, you can always back out if you don’t think you’re up to the task.”
My eyes narrowed at the huddle of figures on the other side of the glass. I was sure I had seen five a minute ago, but now there were… double or triple that - was hard to tell when they kept shifting. I had ways of making them stay still.
[Subdue and debilitate. Not an issue.]
“We have a healer out here, so you can rough them up a bit, but not murder.” Romanov adjusted his suit and looked over at my opponents. “Melee weapons are fine. Last one standing wins. Any other questions?”
Other than wondering if I had hit my peak of drunkenness or I was still in for a rougher ride, it all seemed simple. A solo mission was a rarity, but as they weren’t strong supers, I’d have no trouble taking them in. My brow furrowed, and I stooped closer to Roy.
[Permission to leave my ammunition with you, Captain?]
Although I didn’t really want to call him captain as that was my… did I even have… thoughts collided, but sank away into the thick sludge of my mind.
“Sure.” His facial expression didn’t seem that keen, but it was probably a nicer one than for if I decided to blow it clean off his skull.
I had clocked that several of the suits were armed. Either their more casually dressed bodyguards had firearms, or they had pistols or the like on their hips. Didn’t really have the desire to take a few shots to punch some criminals who I had no reason to tangle with. Why was I even here? At first it was to burn off some of the self inflicted anger at having a slight fallout with Roxy, but now it had turned into… passing the time until I could decide how to deal with Roy.
Handed over my belt and bandolier. Removed my goggles and winced at how bright everything was. Didn’t need any distractions. Clacked the chamber back and forth to check it was empty, and half the room twitched at the sound. I stood by the clear door, and the speedster gave me a pat on the back.
“Don’t worry, Dubs. Win or lose, I won’t tell Rox what you got up to. Our little secret.”
Perhaps I would feel a little worse about the situation if it wasn’t for the fact that she already knew what I was. Had witnessed me murder a criminal and still fallen for me.
The door opened, and I was allowed entry to my next big mistake for the evening.
I wavered slightly as my sense of balance was slightly off, before shuffling myself into the empty gray room. Door shut behind me and a lock clunked shut. If the eyes of my prey weren’t already sizing me up beforehand, they definitely were now.
Spread at an approximately equal distance apart was a rogue’s gallery of five soon-to-be broken bodies. My vision had focused enough to count them, but their physical details were on the fuzzy side. I was in the left corner closest to the glass, due to that being where the door was.
Over to my direct right in the opposite corner was a man taller than me and almost as scarred. The lack of a shirt seemed like a terrible idea in this kind of situation, but how else would he show off what I assumed to be a shag carpets worth of body hair? The glint of his hands told the tale that he had knuckle dusters or something similar.
Closest to my left was a lizardwoman… as far as I could tell. A snake-like head, however, and two tails for some reason. Thought it was my wavering eyesight at first, but no. Each one ended in something pointed, while she had a curved short-sword in her right hand. Left was wrapped in metal plating like a gauntlet. Offense and defense, that was smart.
A voice crackled through some unseen speaker in the walls. Telling us to prepare and to go on the buzzer. I wavered in place, my sense of balance a little rough around the edges. Tried to get a good look at the other combatants, but other than being people shaped, I couldn’t draw any more defined picture. One might have a hammer?
Another whine from the walls, and a trill tone echoed around our space. Violence time.
As soon as the sound rang out, the lizardwoman went for me. A couple of strides that my eyes saw as a blur, and then her sword swung. Blocked it with my gun-arm, a metallic clang ringing out, just as the two dart-like blades on her tails lashed out as a follow-up.
First tore at my super suit but did no damage. The second pierced straight into my left arm. Before I could retaliate, the hairy muscle-head from the right slammed into her, knuckle duster striking her in the scaled torso and knocking her away. He then promptly shoulder tackled me, pushing me back until we hit the transparent wall.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I delivered a knee to his stomach just as he struck me in the side with his fist. Before he had time for the second, the lizardwoman was back. Tail slashed my shoulder, flicking my blood across the glass. The man blocked the sword but received the other tail-blade across his right forearm.
Both of them were blurry messes, which made things awkward for me. Already bloodied against two opponents much better equipped for melee brawling. I was starting to regret everything that led to this point. But mostly the alcohol.
As long as I made it out of here with my brain and ego intact, perhaps I would sit and reflect on my choices. Of course, what to do with Roy and Boss was probably the biggest one, and one not made yet - which again, the alcohol wasn’t helping.
Hairy roared and brought both fists up, clearly angered at his blood being drawn. Although I couldn’t see his Threat Level, my sixth sense told me he was powering up.
I looked at the lizardwoman and gestured to the man with my head. A nod was returned and a brief alliance was formed.
Gun-arm lashed forward, which Hairy deflected with a spark from his weapon. Left him open for the sword, which he barely stepped back away from. My left fist came in, which he blocked with crossed forearms - while the tail-blades jabbed into his leg and side. He punched out, a clash of metal with his right, and then the same for his left as we both blocked him.
My foot came out and kicked him back, before I slid across the floor toward him. Sword flashed through the air just above me, a crimson gash forming across the man’s stomach.
V-Force drive powered up as I stood and fired. The ball of energy tore the wound open, the flaps of skin exposing and allowing his entrails free. He clutched at them as my eyes swam, making the fleshy tubes look like bloodied snakes excited for a day out.
Turned a bit too late with my lagging brain and the lizardwoman jabbed me through the side, narrowly avoiding slotting through my ribs and into some prized internal organs. As I blocked the tail-blades, she leveled a kick of her own, sending me back against the glass wall once again.
I could hear the dulled murmurs and excited conversations of the watchers behind me. Didn’t have the time or the mental focus to see how the other three were faring, but Hairy was definitely out for the count.
The lizardwoman leaned back before she intended to lunge and skewer me.
As the last of my foul canister seeped out and into my bloodstream, something else went along with it. A cold sensation through my neck. Another little piece of familiarity.
With it came a very thin slice of focus. As if my subconscious had been storing up information now chose this millisecond to vomit it forth, clarity even despite my inebriated state.
My opponent was actually rather sluggish with her sword strikes, using the weaker tail-blades to exhaust and needle me and make up for the attack speed. Slightly higher than average strength, but not even on a bottom-tier super level. Although her tail strikes covered a lot of weaknesses, the true disadvantage was her footwork. Often when using her tails she would shift to the side slightly to get a better reach, and usually to the right so that her sword could protect her flank.
Just as soon as the breakdown flashed across my mind, it left and the haze of my previous regretful state sunk back in.
I rolled across the glass as her lunge struck the Virbrex instead, scraping but not even leaving a scratch. As I lashed back with my gun-arm, I didn’t even wait for the guaranteed block before I feinted into a kick to her closest leg.
She stepped back on awkward footing. V-Force drive powered up again. Her arms came on to protect her face, while her tail-blades came at me. I instead went low and struck her in the leg again. Weakened now. Not broken, but numb and painful, I was sure. After my strike, I stepped back away - proud owner of a few more gashes.
Could see the stress and panic in her eyes even in my state. The lizardwoman went to close the gap, but her inert leg wouldn’t do so. My gaze went past her now, to see how the rest of the combatants were faring.
There was her mistake.
Worried that she would get pinned between two of us with no easy way to move, her head briefly turned to make sure I wasn’t looking at one of the other assholes coming to join the fray. That was all the time I needed.
Lashed forward across the space I had made. Only just covering the distance I had planned out, the end of my barrel struck her on the chin. Not enough to break her jaw, but the force twisted her scaled head and her brain hit the sleep button.
Looked ahead at the other side of the room. One figure was lying on the ground already, a pool of blood around them as they clutched at their head. Of the two still standing, one looked to be hobbled after taking a nasty blow from the hammer in the other’s hand. My feet took me across the room as he raised the weapon up for the finishing blow.
Head turned too late. A rough man with scarred lines down his face, and the stench of cigarettes on his clothes. I collided with him, pushing and lifting him up into the air, before spiking him down onto the floor.
As he recovered, I turned and lashed out with my elbow, knocking out the other fighter I had just saved. Looked as though Hammer had been cleaning house. Turned back to him and he’d already rolled back up to his feet.
Some mania in his eyes. Pin-pricks of light that wavered via my drunken mind. Made him seem like a ghost, or something possessed. He was a killer, I could tell. You don’t deal that amount of physical harm to someone’s skull with a hammer and not question your humanity without some hard-won experience.
Not a super, but the cracks running through my dehydrating brain allowed me to paint him as a villain.
One I couldn’t kill, but those were flimsy rules.
Quicker than expected, he launched at me, swinging his weapon around. Blocked it with the flat of my gun-arm, the impact vibrating through my cybernetics. My left hand grabbed out at his shirt and I pulled him in for a headbutt. Broken nose, but it didn’t phase him. His return strike was faster than I could reposition, and it struck my organic elbow. Numbed.
In seeing my limb briefly falter, he sought to gain some advantage, and his left hand came up to grab at my shotgun - perhaps hoping to hold it back so he could pulp in my deserving skull with the hammer.
Chamber clacked open and his clumsy grasp had his fingers wrap around inside.
Chamber clacked close with prejudice. Severed fingertips danced around my barrel as he growled and stepped back in shock. V-Force drive hummed to me - a resounding symphony punctuated with a blast. The organic ammunition cut into his face and raised forearm, mostly spattering mulched flesh across him.
Allowed me to lash forth, catching the weapon and knocking it from his hand. As it clattered to the stone floor off to the side, the desire for my demise bloomed much brighter in his eyes. Rather than lose faith, he redoubled efforts to win, and launched himself into me.
Now too close for me to swing my arm at him, his good hand pawed at my face, while his other arm wrapped me in a hug. I closed my eyes as his probing fingers sought to gouge them out.
Trouble was, Roxy happened to like them.
Boot slammed down on his foot as stims washed through me. They didn’t mix well with the alcohol, and I found my mood souring at record rate. Another headbutt followed by a repeat until his grip around my back loosened. A kick sent him free, his attempt to blind me fruitless.
As he stumbled back and tried to regain his senses, I caught his outstretched left hand. Pulled it out straight as I twisted my body and struck the back of his elbow with my metal arm. Satisfying crunch as it broke. Swift kick to the back of his knee as I twisted the shattered arm, and he dropped.
Released the arm. V-Force drive powered up. As he glanced up at me, his face a blooded mess, the end of my barrel pressed into his eye. Fit his socket rather well.
Synapse controlled limbs and attachments were difficult to control. It took years of conscious effort to ensure I had mastered the aspect. Even injured, the warmth of my blood running through my suit. Even drunk, the foul liquid imbibed, messing with my ability to focus. Even with the memories of my past screaming in the background making me want to kill and maim.
I held steady and did not rupture both his eyes and brains into mush.
“I yield, I yield.” The words came from his mouth accompanied by a fresh river of blood.
“Gunquake is the winner. All fighters stand down.”
My gun remained in place for a couple of seconds as I stared the man down. V-Force said a soft farewell as I allowed it to power down, and I removed the barrel from his eye.
Turned to see the door open, and a handful of people dressed in medical aprons moved their way in to tend to the wounded. Some of them were close to death. Only a matter of luck or time that they didn’t shuffle off this mortal plane.
Sounds were still reverberating around my head, as if my brain was playing out a more protracted battle. Eyes caught the speedster standing by the Vibrex wall, looking pleased as a peach.
Not wanting to look at my masterwork any longer, I left the chamber.
Something had kicked in during the fight, and I had to decompress and have a think about it. It wasn’t Reflex, but something similar. Another dollop of my past role? In seeing how the lizardwoman fought, my brain had taken all the internalized thoughts on her fighting style and info-dumped them in a more externalized fashion.
Slowly becoming a begrudging expert at naming things, I pinned this act as Analyze. Something to talk to Clara about later on… assuming I had any unburned bridges remaining at the end of the night.
“Fantastic work, Dubs.” Roy looked me up and down, unsure if a hug was appropriate given that I had just won him a sizable bag of credits. “Knew you had the fuckin’ balls for it, but actually seeing it… it’s clear you’re not as green as your suit, ay?”
[I hope I’m getting more out of this than just scars and catharsis?]
“Of course. Other than my word to have you in our group… I can hook you up with that contact I was mentioning.” He gave me a wink. “Probably has lots of work for a fuckin’ tank like you, if it’s credits you want.”
I grunted. Didn’t care much for piddling fighting pit money. Cared even less for him telling me that Boss was a neat friend to have. That would make things difficult.
“Impressive, Gunquake.”
We turned to see Romanov step back down to us, some of the suits in the background looking rather sour that their potential winnings had evaporated.
“It’s not often we have someone new turn up and show up the regulars. You were too impatient to stand around for healing?”
I turned my gaze over to the fighting room to see that there had been six healers, the one probably assigned to me was now just helping put the intestines back into the hairy guy. Looked back down at myself. Sporadic puncture wounds, and some cuts. Bruising probably around my elbow in time, but movement had returned.
[I usually get more cuts shaving.]
A wry smile curled up beneath his pencil mustache. “A little bravado, too. We like that - although I hope it isn’t short lived. You are free to fight the proper bouts once you are ready.”
In truth, I didn’t feel most of my injuries. Whether that was a mix of my stims with the alcohol, or I was just too numb to my body being put through absolute hell that anything less than life-threatening didn’t move the needle, I wasn’t sure.
Did I want to fight tougher opponents? In a way, yes - always.
My anger over the petty argument with Roxy had washed away shortly after breaking the hammer guy’s arm. For all intents and purposes, I was content enough that I had been a jerk and that violence had grounded me. I could go home to… the shack, and sleep off the rest of my problems.
The only thing pinning me here was the speedster. Boss’s contract. Sitting around twiddling my thumbs wasn’t winning me any satisfaction. As always, I had to act and force a solution.
“You up for it then, big guy?” The speedster raised an eyebrow as we watched the suited man walk away. “No pressure, but if you have the stomach for it, we could make a killing with the credits. They’re still unsure about you - but the next three fights are rough motherfuckers.”
[May I have my goggles back?]
“Oh, sure. The sight of the atrocities you commit a little much?” He gave me a grin before retrieving the item from the bunch I had left with him.
[I just wanted to whisper you some sweet nothings, but cannot lower my voice enough to have that intimate privacy you deserve.]
He rolled his eyes. “Flattering, Dubs. If I ever wanted Rox to tear my spine out, I’d reciprocate. I gave you a lot of shit at first,” he watched me put my goggles back on, “but you’re kinda alright. I can see us becoming pals in time.”
Gunquake: If you are acting as an informant for Boss then he knows you are double crossing him.
Gunquake: He sent me here to kill you.
I watched the color drain from the man’s face as his eyes focused on his chat window. Any bravado and coy amusement completely sunk away.
Gunquake: You have until I win my next fight to decide what you want to do.
Gunquake: Might want to fast track that friendship.