I received a second wind. Or rather, it must be third or fourth at this point. It was a ham-fisted attempt at gaining the trust and respect of the speedster, and something I almost died attempting - but in a way, it was bigger than that. More important than even my own life.

Supers were just as varied a bunch of flawed assholes as anyone else in the city. Trouble was, they were meant to be better. Meant to adhere to a higher standard. Even knowing that I was a living being designed to kill those with powers, if I could just bend a few of them closer to the straight and narrow, then maybe someone like me wouldn’t be needed.

There was still the weight of the decision on his face, even as Captain Snaps helped me to my feet. His involvement with Boss was the final straw I found untenable, and I had forced him to choose the snobbish gangsters betting on my demise - or for him to step up and be a superhero.

Now the angered suits had drawn their firearms, sensing the betrayal even if they were just mad that Roy had intervened in the fight.

Like I gave a fuck about the rules.

Cyborg staggered away, increasingly distracted by the insects eating and burrowing their way further into his body. The stake ejected from the pneumatic casing and clanged across the floor, as scissor-like prongs extended out of the hole to start cutting away at his clothing.

[We’ll need to lock the door.]

Roy nodded and licked his lips. “You’ve got my back when I go out there?”

[Till death do us part, asshole.]

He grinned and got into position, his feet scraping across the stone floor as he tensed up.

Stims flooded me with energy. A craving to see this through. All those panicked and furious faces with guns pointed at us - it almost felt relieving to have some more normal stakes for a change. Plus, I had a super on my side now. Adrenaline allowed my aching arm to grasp at the discarded stake, and awkwardly I loaded it into my shotgun before the limb fell inert once more. That’ll do, leftie.

[Let’s show them why you don’t mess with… whatever our super group name is.]

I didn’t wait for his response - instead, my tired legs powered me forward. Clyde had collapsed now, a mess of pained growls and inept attempts to sever the bugs out of his body. My boots thundered toward the Vibrex. V-Force drive kicked into max power. One of the bodyguards was over at the exit now, about to go through.

Reflex.

Just as I fired the stake at the transparent wall, the speedster whizzed through the open door and slid across the floor past the benches to punch the thug about to escape.

Sharpened projectile struck the glass, and it cracked. Slim lines ran away from the impact point, right before I shoulder-barged it with my cybernetic arm. I half expected to be rebuffed, but Overcharging my V-Force had tipped the scales just enough. The wall burst outward as I rolled through, up into a crouched position.

With things in slow-motion due to my Reflex improving my mental focus, I unloaded the eight remaining shots of Nerve from my ten-mag into the crowd of thugs and suits in quick succession. Roy came in, avoiding my blasts but punching and tripping the others in a blur of speed - disarming the ones that didn’t buckle from my assault.

And just as the last empty cartridge bounced across the floor beside me, the room fell silent - aside from the speedster head-butting the last man standing.

I stood, adrenaline double-checking things were safe now before leaving, and I groaned out in pain. I’d taken a handful of shots in return, with the super suit thankfully taking most of the force out of the projectiles.

Still, I was going to have quite the hangover in the morning.

The speedster stepped down the benches to meet me, concern across his face. “You look fucked to all shit, Dubs. Hospital time?”

[I’ve walked off worse.]

“I can see your skull. And your ribs. You’re soaked with blood and sweat.”

[This is like a good day at the gym for me. Working on my death resistance. Going well.]

Breath was haggard again, so I leaned over to try to get it back. Vertigo almost had my fragile skull meet the ground, but gravity settled for just accepting a handful of drops of sweat and blood doing the deed.

The Captain was silent for a moment, perhaps unsure whether to press the issue or take my health into his own hands. He turned to look at the subdued or unconscious bodies sprawled across the room. “Boss is gonna be pissed at us both, huh?”

[He’ll survive. We got rid of the competition that was taking the information you had prepared for Boss.]

I could see him tense up, even with my vision foggy and distracted by how cooling the floor looked.

“That’s a fucker too, huh? I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him… but it sounded simple. Easy credits.” He shook his head. “Doubt he’d care much for me voiding the employment contract now.”

[I will talk to him. My priority is keeping us safe.]

He snorted. “Since when were you our guardian angel, you beat-up piece of shit?”

Pushing my gun-arm against my aching leg, I stood back up straight - only some agony flaring through my chest. Somehow I’d managed to loop both belt and bandolier over the muzzle of my gun, allowing me to carry everything awkwardly. Roy had a wide, shit-eating grin across his face, some disbelief erasing the stress, but no malice in his question.

[How much do you know about me, Roy?]

An eyebrow raised and some of the mirth sunk from his expression. “I know that the League likes the scent of your ass, but they don’t trust me with any more information than that.”

[I wonder why.]

He rolled his eyes. “If you’re with Boss, then it must be something to do with him… I guess you must be one of his Agents?”

I nodded my head, which was far too painful an act for my liking.

The speedster whistled. “Fuck. That explains a lot, then.” He put his hands on his hips and looked at the gathered criminals. “Oh, just because I chose to do the right thing, it doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly changed who I am.”

[No. You’re clearly still an asshole.]

“Right. League often doesn’t give us the direction or drive to be actual fuckin’ heroes. For whatever reason that you cooked up in the small amount of brains you have left in your head, you lit that fire under my balls.” He gave another coy grin. “I can see why Rox keeps barking up your tree.”

[Whole reason I am out here tonight is because we had a brief argument.]

“Yeah?” The speedster opened his mouth as if he was going to make a smart remark, but kept it to himself and his expression cooled. “Best let her play nurse and make up then. Want me to call her?”

[I will be fine.]

“I can’t let you just walk out of here, Dubs. You’ll get like… sand and shit in your open chest cavities.”

[Perhaps I could use the extra grit. Have you called law enforcement?]

“They’re on their way.”

I gave him a nod and started shuffling off toward the door.

[Good bust, Captain. You did well. Don’t mention me in the report.]

“Fuckin’ asshole.” He crossed his arms and shook his head. “Don’t die on the way home after all this, alright?”

My gun-arm raised, and I waved him off. Stepped over the unconscious body of one of the thugs and opened up the door. By the time I made it to the top of the stairs, all the wounds previously bleeding had all but stopped. Still relatively close to keeling over, but I’d make do.

Probably start taking my own mortality a little more seriously.

Out into the dimly lit portion of the bar, and I managed to fling my near-corpse through the fire exit off to the side, just as the cops rolled in from the front. I stumbled into the dark alley and tried not to fall into the gathered trash along the wall opposite.

While everyone nearby was focused on the flashing lights and presence of law enforcement, I snuck by unaccosted and found my bike. Reflecting the shifting lights of the Boozeslut sign, I was slightly saddened by the number of scratches and dents it had from the last time I was in this situation. Had my wits about me this time.

Bike started up and my whole body tensed in pain as I used only my gun-arm to steer it. Without the extra part Clara had made me, it would have been impossible. But I took things easy, made my way through and out of the city at a slower than normal pace - anything to survive.

The rougher dirt road out into the outskirts was hell on my recovering wounds, but eventually, I was numb to it. Rolled to a stop near my shack and switched it off. Home. My eyes went up to the darkened windows of Roxy’s house. Then I glanced at my kill-room. Perhaps a little fresh air would be better for the moment.

Hoisted myself onto the ground, allowing my belt to fall to the dirt. Shuffled my way over to my deckchair and lowered myself slowly, trying not to grunt out in pain. Sat and exhaled in some manner of relief, my eyes looking back toward the city. Piece of shit city.

Wasn’t long before I heard soft footsteps behind me. Grass and then gravel. Didn’t turn, only partially because it was too painful to.

“Peace offering?” Roxy stood at my side and held an object down into my view.

The moonlight caught the unmistakable shape of a freezer-chilled nutritional canister. Maybe that pounding in my chest wasn’t just my heart trying to hide behind exposed ribs.

I looked up at her. Some concern across her brow. Any anger from earlier this evening long something of the past. Baggy t-shirt and shorts. It would be a reasonable guess that she’d been waiting up for me.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

[Offering accepted.]

She kneeled at the end of the deckchair and unclasped the side of my neck, bringing out the old cannister without having to ask or wait for my permission. A small hiss as she pressed the new one in, her movements already practiced enough to assist me even in this near lack of light. Clasps back closed as the rejuvenating calm flooded through my system. Absolute fucking bliss.

Roxy turned her leg around to sit beside me, and idly fiddled with the empty tube. “I’m sorry for earlier, Dubs. I’m shit with words and I’m not used to having people around when I get all stressed and shit.”

[I also apologize for pushing you toward my lofty ambitions and taking your push back personally.]

She gave me a glum smile. “I didn’t realize I could push you away that easily. I have been taking you for granted.”

[No, it is also on me for acting like the world revolves around me.]

Roxy sighed and looked out at the city with me. “Pair of dumbasses, aren’t we?”

[Literally the worst.]

“Clara said you’d been shot. Want to go inside and I’ll zap you? How bad is it?” She jostled my numb left arm in an attempt to gesture towards the house.

[Is that all she told you?]

“Just roughed up. Shot a couple of times.” She stood up, but clearly didn’t have very good night vision if she hadn’t made note of my actual state. “Although… don’t tell me your arm is broken again?”

[Not like I could hide it for long.]

“Fuck’s sake. What is it with you and that arm? Get inside right now.”

Despite the tone taken in her demand, I felt cool and relaxed. In safe hands. Certainly, part of that was the canister and stims making me feel elated… but I was self-aware enough to know some of my relief was in putting water under the bridge with the super.

Of course, once I’d shuffled into the dining room slash surgical workshop and became illuminated by the light, she didn’t seem too impressed.

“Dubs, what in the fucking hells have you been doing?” She bared her teeth, trying to decide if wringing my neck was a good idea. “Broken arm, gunshot wounds... there are holes in your damn chest. Part of your head is a flap I can see your skull under, and your suit is cut to shit and soaked through with blood.”

[How quickly do they update the news?]

She furrowed her brow, further annoyed that I was distracting her from my state. I went to lie on the surgical bed, as that seemed to be more comfortable than collapsing on the spot. Roxy’s eyes were up and unfocused, looking through information only she was privy to.

“You were… busy being sidekick to Roy of all people?” She looked at me, either hurt that I had been working with a different super, or confused that the speedster had done anything worthwhile.

[Two vouches, two to go.]

She leaned over me as I stared up at the ceiling. “You’re deadly serious about becoming a hero then?”

[If you give me the chance, I can prove I’m able to keep up and be an asset to-]

“Shut your damn mouth.” Roxy held up the shrapnel remover. “It was never about your capabilities, you asshole. I don’t like the League and their rules. They’re… glorified babysitters that just want to market you and have you dance to their tune. I… just didn’t want that for you. You have the freedom already.”

My body twitched as she zapped one of the bullets from my torso. In the corner of my eyesight, I could see that the Dead Zone had been switched on already. Green light.

[Comparatively, I am beholden to my Boss, but wish to escape. You can do a lot of good in the League, so I wanted to bolster what you have already. Before we can both break away.]

The remover wiggled in her hand, her thoughts distracted. Eventually she looked back down at me, her face moving close to mine, and her hand resting at the side of my cheek.

“Alright, motherfucker. I’ll support this, but it’s on several conditions, otherwise I’m out.”

[Go ahead.]

“First.” She zapped another bullet out of my chest. “No more getting beat to shit like this. This one is non-negotiable unless we’re dealing with some serious villain threats. I can’t keep putting you together just because you think you can take on the world to atone for your shitty life, or you ran off to impress someone in an illegal fighting ring.”

I winced.

[You knew?]

“I’m not as stupid as I look, Dubs.” She rolled her eyes. “My team are all useless assholes, but I’d be a shitty leader if I didn’t know what they all got up to. Roy has been frequenting that place ever since the League defanged him.”

[Ah.]

“What’s actually surprising is that you of all people got him to turn all those assholes in. I knew shady shit went on down there, but I had no proof. We can’t all go kicking doors in and murder everyone. I want the whole story of what went on tonight.”

[As a condition of your support?]

“As your future super group leader, and if you want to get any closer to me emotionally. I need the whole truth, if you can trust me.”

I took a deep breath. This was the true test of tonight’s self sacrifice. Well, no. Nothing so noble sounding - it was pure self-destruction in the hopes I could temper what needed forging. She knew that I still couldn’t trust her fully, with her original appearance here meant to be to spy on me. Understood that me giving the full truth to her held that asterisk at the top corner.

Despite the risk, it would probably be the safest gamble of the night.

So I told her all. Everything from leaving here in a huff to deal with the contract Boss had given to me. Roy preventing me from turning some drunkards into mush. My own dance with alcohol as I agreed to fight, then the risk I put myself in to force the speedster to actually act like a hero.

She wasn’t too pleased with a lot of that story, judging by her facial expressions. Especially the part where I signed myself up for a deathmatch and almost died if it weren’t for the Captain intervening.

“So you’re some kind of super whisperer now, are you?” Any ire had been replaced with exhaustion, as she returned the shrapnel remover, and came back with some shears to remove my super suit.

[More palatable than super killer.]

“Honestly? If your methods weren’t so self-destructive, I’d be impressed. Like, seriously enamored.” She tilted her head and held the thick scissors up. “Getting Roy to play nice is like… I’ve never been good at herding cats, so never understood why they put me in charge…”

She slipped the blades in at my lower stomach, the blunt edge of the cold metal pressing against my skin as she started to snip around. “The dangerous thing is you’ve given me hope, Dubs. Our group has been stuck at C-Rank for a while because… well, we just don’t work together? Partly my own fault, I know. If I followed the letter of what the League wanted more, I could Rank higher myself… but if you can straighten out the other assholes, then we could be a great fucking team.”

[I have zero doubts you could be a fantastic leader.]

Roxy smiled for the first time in a while. “Oddly enough, I believe you are the right kind of insane to bring us all together.”

[Based on one evening of almost death forcing Roy’s hand?]

“I didn’t know he had taken up being an informant for your Boss. That’s some shit that is going to simmer, especially if it’s League info he’s fucking with.” Her smile vanished as her mouth instead screwed up in thought. “That’s going to be your condition number two, Dubs. He needs severing from that and to go clean.”

[Understood.]

Not an entirely simple ask, but she was entirely correct. I didn’t know how far Boss’s reach spanned, or how easy it was for the more ancillary people under his sway to leave without having someone like me show them the door.

I’d need to message him myself once all this was done with.

Roxy placed down the scissors and then peeled the front of my super suit off. Slowly, as parts of it were either stuck with sweat or had adhered itself to some of my wounds. Damage was revealed.

“Not sure how I have such a strong stomach for this.” She shook her head. “Let me clean and dress these. I’m sure you’re dying for some sleep.”

[Surprisingly, I am content enough to listen to you berate me.]

Actually, I was fucking exhausted, but it wasn’t entirely a lie.

“No point trying to flirt when you look like someone knifed a bowl of burritos half to death. I like you, Dubs, but I detest what you do to yourself.” She vanished from sight.

I heard her footsteps leave the room and go to the kitchen. Probably for clean water and disinfectant - oh, yes. There was the tap. I felt a little more somber and grounded now. I’d tried to put Roy on the right course. Given up everything and told Roxy my intent. Was trying to live and create a life I could live and enjoy…

But there was a shadow always behind me. Reminding me that I was a killer. In my past life. In this life. Any glance toward to the future was hazy with the weight of what I had done… and in this way I allowed myself to get injured. Pushed myself to the very brink to allow destiny to end me if it thought I wasn’t worthy to continue.

Yet I had.

So was this validation that I was meant to have more? Be something better? I even had support around me now, actually wanting me to have a life - in comparison to Boss, who only used me for what purpose he had set for me.

In willing to give everything to achieve something, I now had to be more conservative with how I stained reality. Stronger foundations so that Roxy, Clara, and the other assholes could raise up with me.

The super entered the room, sponge in one hand and bucket in the other.

“Clara was worried sick and stressed that she couldn’t come to see you. I hope you realize that condition one isn’t just for my benefit. I’ll give her all the details later, if that’s okay?”

[Of course. And I will make it up to her tomorrow.]

“Good, because she is working extra late for your sake - not that your dumbass deserves it.” She placed the bucket down and soaked the sponge before wringing it out. “Which brings me onto the next point. This super suit clearly isn’t working for you if you’re getting thrashed to shit literally every day.”

[Don’t worry, I’ve already made arrangements for that.]

“Oh?” She gently wiped around some of the bullet holes. “Dare I ask?”

[It can be a surprise. Think of it as a rebirth of the actual Gunquake, where I will uphold the conditions and take my superheroship more seriously.]

Her eyes rolled. “You’re not having second thoughts on ‘Gunquake’?”

[Should I?]

“No, but… well, you’ll see. Another surprise for the fledgeling hero.”

Times like these, I wished I could smile. My eyes knew the muscle movements, even if I didn’t have the physical parts to complete the act. The super could see it, and that was enough for me. Tonight had been inadvertent, and full of mistakes, but I had emerged from it with even greater hope for the future.

Agent W might as well have died in that pit room, but Gunquake emerged from within.

“There might be other conditions, but I’m also tired as hell and fixing you up has my mind all over the place. Most important ones are your safety and sorting Boss out, though.”

[I will do my best. Our road will not be easy, but I believe together we can achieve anything.]

She paused and narrowed her eyes at me. “I’d give you an ear-kiss, but I don’t fancy getting scabbed blood on me. Oh, that’s a point, though.” Roxy pressed a finger gently on the part of my chest that wasn’t minced beef. “We’re still having our duel. After seeing what you did with Roy, I understand better why you want to put me through such bullshit.”

[As soon as I am recovered, I’m all yours.]

“Oh, you will be, motherfucker. Clara has been on my ass to train and prepare for you.” She grinned, a spark of her normal self returning. “I’m going to rock-slide your fucking world.”

[Disgusting. I cannot wait.]

Her smile remained as she finished patching me back together. A quiet contentedness settled between us as she worked. Partly because I was actually extremely tired, but also happy. It took breaking myself down into small parts to build myself back up into something to be proud of, but I was grasping for an actual solid future - a step even beyond just the happy circumstance of friendly neighbors.

Now I was just left wondering if Boss had snipped my old synapse connections for more reasons than just the apparent powers I could activate.

Maybe it was the ambition to grow stronger that he sought to quell, to squirm away from his control.

These thoughts flooded my mind as I sat up and had my arm put back in a sling. Bandages around my torso. Around my head.

While the human part of me desired friendship and a community to cling to, whatever I used to be was drawn to becoming great. A thread of memory lingered just outside my reach, the taste of it wanting me to leap and guess - but I had to be patient.

Standing at the doorway of the dining room, Roxy held my face in her hands. Brought me a little closer and gave me a brief kiss on the forehead.

“Survive twenty-four hours without injury, and I’ll put the papers in for you. See if the League will allow you to become a super.”

[Thank you, Roxy.]

She smiled and rubbed a thumb on my cheek. “Thank me after your third photoshoot, second public speaking event, and eleventh time your manager has called you in because you’re not posing quite well enough to show off your ass in the promotional material.”

[I do need to work on my glutes.]

Roxy rolled her eyes and relinquished her grip on me. “Ah, I don’t know about that. Oh, you did say you’d work out with me too. Let’s make that condition number three, only because…” her mouth opened and closed. “Purely selfish reasons.”

I shrugged as best as my body would allow. Might be a while before I could go hard on my left arm, so cardio and a leg day or two didn’t sound that bad.

“Alright, up to bed with you before I grab more ice-cream and force you to watch a movie about a dog and even though I’ve watched it five times and know the dogs dies because of course the dog dies 'it’s a sad dog movie' I will still bawl my eyes out and I’m not sure you’re ready for that emotional vulnerability or amount of snot from me just yet.”

She took a deep breath, having expelled the longest run-on sentence I had ever heard.

[Good night, then, Roxy. Could you put my goggles back down for me?]

“Sure.” She nodded eagerly. Some exhaustive mania had clearly popped her like a volcano, and now the ash ran down into the neighboring village where - oh, perhaps I was being just as bad.

Couldn’t even remember at what points my goggles had been up or down. But she did what I asked, and I left the dining room and hit the stairs. She followed me to ensure I didn’t secretly die to something lurking in the brief shadows - all before I was shut away in the spare room, and she retired to her own bedroom.

Soft bed greeted me with wide arms, and I was patient and didn’t throw my aching body upon it. Settled in comfortably and addressed the elephant in the room. Namely, the flashing notification icon in the top of my lense.

Boss: Agent W.

Boss: I am disappointed with the results of your contract.

Boss: Did you perhaps read it incorrectly?

Boss: And now the informant has even looser lips.

Boss: You’ve caused me a huge problem here, Agent W.

Boss: If you don’t kill the informant within twenty-four hours, then our business relationship will be terminated.