The payload of my Quake shot snapped out of the barrel of my gun-arm. Dust blew from the impact point where it struck the tall rock, and for a split second, I thought that was it.

An intense gravity held my feet in place suddenly, as a burst of sound dulled by my ear-protection still rang in my head. I winced as the ground shook, pulses of force vibrating through the area in a wide circle from where the spent ammunition had struck.

Dust and gravel slowly settled, and I regained control of my muscles a good five seconds after the initial burst. A pensive silence filled the wastes as I slowly turned my head to the techie.

[I feel as though an explanation is necessary.]

“It’s a quake.” She grinned and crossed her arms, looking as though she never doubted it would work in the first place. “If you need more than that… It’s similar to a flashbang grenade, but instead of a blinding light there’s a reversed-polarity semi-persistent V-Force-”

[Yeah, yeah. It disorientates and stuns people for a short duration.]

“I can add confetti too, if you-”

[I love it, Clara.]

As far as a signature attack went, it might not be as flashy as something explosive or using exotic damage types… but a stun went a long way. While the techie was busy feeling pleased with herself, I daydreamed of dropping from the rafters of a darkened warehouse, landing amongst a group of criminals with Quakeshot, then finishing them off with a Reflex full of Nerve shells.

What a dream.

I turned as Clara stepped up to retrieve the spent cartridge from the floor. “If you could try to keep hold of these, Gunquake - as they have built in tech necessary for the V-Force activation, and it will save time and cost to reuse them."

[I will do my best.]

She looped her arm around mine and started walking me back to the house. “We won’t have many of those, but I think you’ll put them to good use.”

[You’ll help me load up my magazines later?]

“I can think of three better uses of my time, but since it’s you asking, Gunquake, my hands are all yours.”

With my recent orders, I had enough ten-mags to have one for each ammo type. What she had said earlier was correct - I’d need as many options as I could carry to keep up with my powered peers. Of course, in a way - I was already built for that. Even if I had a squad with me to go against supers previously, my ego told me I was the best of them.

I stopped before we got to the house, and Clara relinquished her hold on me.

[Do you want to do something naughty tonight?]

“Given our verbal swordplay throughout the day, I’d need a little more context on what you are actually proposing.” She put her hands on her hips. “That said, I’m one hundred percent in, Gunquake.”

[Yeah, I can tell. I’m talking you, me, and a bounty. Split the credits fifty-fifty.]

The techie bit her lip. “You’re supposed to be resting. I have half a mind to tell on you.”

I looked over at the house, and some sober thoughts sunk in. She had a point. With the meeting tomorrow with the League, I’d be giving a terrible impression if I turned up with a broken arm and shredded suit. Unfortunately, I wasn’t very good at sitting idle, and without kill contracts coming in…

“You have no stims or canisters. Any other day I’m your ride or die, but I’ll not encourage your self-destruction any longer.”

[Let’s talk stims then. Do you know what is in my current ones?]

She nodded, and we continued moving. “A painkiller that is banned in this city. Adrenaline shot. Muscle repair and healing accelerant. Some manner of steroids I'm unfamiliar with. None of it something that a civilian could buy over the counter. It makes finding a suitable replacement difficult.”

[Could we make our own?]

“Eh.” She tilted her head to look up at me. “I’m flattered you think so highly of me, Gunquake. I am not a pharmacist, nor do I have the machinery or expertise to attempt such a feat. Even at the League, I wouldn’t be able to get close to anything that could process the packs. Much less have a steady supply.”

Reasonable. Although she had managed to dabble in everything I had asked her so far, there were limits to her knowledge and I couldn’t expect her to solve all of my problems. That fact seemed to bug her, if her somewhat sour expression was anything to go by.

[I suppose the ideal thing will be to find what options are available for my port version and then see how we can get stable access to the best kind.]

“Agreed. It will most likely be something that pales in comparison to what your Boss supplied… which brings up the question of where he sourced them.” Her brow furrowed. “The number of people who could mix their own are few - which might give us a lead on him.”

[I’ll leave that in your capable hands then.]

“You’re lucky I live for this shit, Gunquake.” She stopped at the porch and looked back out to the wastes. “My priority today is protection for the house, your next Public Defender order, and helping you unwrap my box later.” The techie gave me an exaggerated knowing wink.

[Do you think Roxy will be annoyed?]

“Annoyed about what?” The super herself stepped out of the kitchen and into the lobby, holding a glass of water.

[That I might have to call off the duel if I don’t have stims to keep me at my best.]

“The fuck you will,” she scowled at us both. “Clara, I don’t care what you have to do. Literally, your life’s goal is now to ensure Dubs is prepared for the duel. I won’t forgive either of you if you fuck this up.” Roxy pointed a finger at us to accompany her glare before she pushed in between us. “I’m off to work.”

We watched in silence as she stepped out into the garden before leaping off toward the city. Seemingly still holding the glass. Waited for a couple more hops before we made eye contact.

“I feel like a cybernetic pelvis is in your near future, Gunquake.”

I rolled my eyes and gestured to the living room. Terrible of me to lie to her face, but we were already running the risk of having our heads pulled off without the insinuation the pair of us were doing anything on the side. And we… were going to be. Just not the obvious things.

We sat, and the Public Defender came out. Went through it cover to cover, going over ammunition types, accessories, and gadgets. Debated how much use I would get out of things, edge case scenarios, and how worthwhile it was carrying so much on my person.

In all honesty, it was a really relaxing way to spend the early evening. Any of our usual flirting and innuendo was put aside as we talked shop. Almost reminded me of my past.

Clara gave me a pat on the knee as we closed the catalogue. “I need some water, Gunquake. That was quite the marathon.”

[While I do not have a mouth to get dry, my eyes are tired from the effort. Do your eyes tire in a similar way?]

She paused before she reached the door and looked back. “In a way. It is more of a mental strain, rather than my eyes themselves getting tired.” A brief smile and then she was gone.

I sat back on the soft couch. A little time to burn before we had to go meet up with Hal. Some mags to pack and my outfit to actually load up. Even with the looming meeting tomorrow, it felt odd to have no immediate threat or stress. No kill contract to run off to, or other reason to get maimed.

Still, I had promised Roxy.

My mind was still trying to click around Boss’s angle. I felt foolish for not really knowing anything about him. Was he just a mobster taking on kill contracts? He had no problem with me being friendly with the supers and League, under the understanding that I’d be a way in for him… or something. A simple refusal over a contract wasn’t enough to kill me off after five years of good work.

So did he want me to push away from him?

Yeah. I was pretty sure I understood it now. Having cooled off, the pieces were just the right shape to click together and complete the puzzle.

Plausible deniability. If I hated Boss and he had cut me off, that would make my ascension into the League all the more believable. Become my enemy so that the heroes would accept me and assist me in thinking I’d be against him.

Then what?

He’d take it away so that I’d come crawling back to my hitman job? There had to be something more that he wanted me for. If I could stand beside heroes, then my talents would be wasted punching thugs in alleyways.

My eyes rose from the rampant speculation as the techie reentered the room with a glass.

[Clara, you’d tell me if you were Boss, right?]

She smiled and leaned against the wall. “Agent W, I thought you’d never ask.”

I froze. Left hand slowly closed into a fist as my muscles tensed up. Some natural adrenaline went around my system, feeling odd compared to the floor I was used to from my stims.

The techie’s smile widened, and she snorted, holding her hand up over her face to contain a chuckle. First time I had seen her laugh so much.

“I’m so sorry, Gunquake.” She cooled and wafted her face with her hand. “I’ve been waiting for that opportunity for a while. You should have seen your face.” Her grin softened.

[Using your trait of using formal names for everyone to increase the effectiveness of the joke, I am impressed.]

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“So you should be. But believe me, you would know if I were your Boss.”

[Oh yeah?]

“Either you’d be dead already, or locked up in my basement.” She brought her water up for a sip.

[Somehow I doubt that would be for the purpose of torture. Shall we get my magazines loaded?]

She nodded, and we did just that. Both sat on chairs by the stacks of cases in the dining room, putting cartridges in the ten-mags, and then onto my belt or other holders.

“I’m thinking of applying to get a bigger drone,” Clara said, handing over one of the filled magazines.

[Is that for speed and efficiency, or perhaps for combat functionality?]

“One that can carry things. I’m thinking with you in the field, it would be handy to supply you with emergency equipment or medical supplies. Or drop a grenade on you, if you displease me~.”

[I pale at the notion. You do a lot of work for not only me, but for the whole group. I hope you know you’re appreciated, Clara.]

“Of course.” She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “I enjoy this a lot. Not just you, but helping Rockslide by helping you. Although it looks like I just spend my time winding her up, your presence is bringing her and I closer together as well. So, I hope you know you’re appreciated, Gunquake.”

[Pretty much everything has been a wild ride since you both turned up, but I have no complaints.]

“Oh! Speaking of wild ride…” She clicked her fingers. “Once you and Rockslide start dating, you’ll have to come with us to meet her family next holidays. Mom would adore you. Pops… not so much.”

[Ah. Horrors beyond what I could possibly conceive. At least it would be a safe space from you constantly trying to woo me.]

She raised an eyebrow before pulling a shell from the next case. “I’ll tone it down once you two are official. We jest, Gunquake, but I would never do anything to jeopardize her happiness.”

[What about your happiness?]

“I have several cases of things that make me happy right here.” She glanced around the room. “Plus, I believe my sugar daddy has gotten me a little gift, if I may be so bold.”

I checked the time. The late afternoon with the techie had flown by, and I hadn’t even noticed that it was starting to get dark out.

[Perhaps we should nix that nickname too? Shall we go get the van ready, side-ho?]

“Hah!” She wrinkled up her face and closed her eyes. “Oh, save that for saying in front of Rockslide. She is bound to mortally wound one of us in retaliation.”

[Not it.]

She maintained the smile as we tidied up the cases and made sure I was fully loaded. Left the house and I helped put the trailer on the back of her van. I slid into the passenger side as the headlamps switched on, illuminating the wasteland ahead of us.

Almost expected something to be out there waiting for us. I was too tired and dehydrated to speculate more on what was going on outside in the proverbial darkness, let alone the literal background of my existence. Although I had half-convinced myself Boss was secretly just pushing me away to further his own agenda from the back seat, it didn’t explain the assumed Agent that had turned up.

Time to play things by ear and not give myself a headache. Tonight’s activities would be fun enough, without considering I was going to stroll into the League of Heroes tomorrow and interview for a job.

Which… the absolute absurdity only just hit me. Me, an experienced hitman and otherwise grungy wasteland misfit. Trying to convince some recruitment officer that I wanted to be—and was worthy of being—a superhero, of all things. I had clearly gone mad at some juncture.

[Clara, if I was dead or in a coma and this was some weird fever dream, would you tell me?]

“Hmm.” She wrinkled up her nose as she focused on driving through the rocky plains. “It is unlikely I would tell you, even if capable.”

I figured as much. Maybe this was just my brain without the nutrition juice and stims whirling through it. Too soon to judge them as being suspicious, but I made a note to check my wounds later and see how they had healed since throwing my toys from the pram.

[Do you know much about what I should expect tomorrow?]

At first she shook her head, before she gave me a glance. “They’ll do a test to see if you have superpowers, most likely.”

[Invasive?]

“Not particularly. Blood test that takes ten minutes or so to settle. Will tell you if you’re a super, normal, or in the middle.”

Sounded like where I would land. I was pretty sure that I had no superpowers, but I was clearly a few steps ahead of any random person you could pull off the street.

[How does the middle work?]

“From what I remember…” Clara slowed the van to a stop as we reached the outcropping of rocks. “There’s like a scale. Certain attributes that they test for are rated from zero to ten. Zero being expected for a humanoid, ten being as close to a superpower without actually having one.”

[I see.]

“You didn’t hear this from me, Gunquake, but for example - Wren falls into the middle.” She switched the engine off but kept the lights on. “Her elven lineage traces way back to some of the oldest families, and there’s latent power that increases her agility and perception. Her bow is an artefact, and the two things together are good enough to be a hero, even if she didn’t also have the financial backing that she does.”

[I appreciate the information, Clara. Now I am more curious to find out how I will score.]

The techie nodded and relaxed in her seat. “Valid, but don’t forget what is more important than the number, Gunquake.”

[Making Roxy happy?]

“Good answer.” She tilted her head at me and smiled. “But I meant how you approach combat and antagonizing forces means more than whatever score the League assigns you. You’re a lot more competent than some supers, because in a way, you have to be.”

Or had to be.

Some training retained despite my memory loss, and then further compounded by my work as a hitman over the years. Most of the former against supers, and most of the latter against normal criminals.

Despite my life being on an upward trend… part of me missed the simplicity of my contract work. It was lonely, disgusting, and macabre - but I had known where everything sat. Knew my role and what was expected of me. Now I had scampered away from the shadows and across the brightly lit desert for what? Could I find some paradise or safe haven, or just end up dehydrated and worn down in the endless rocky plains of my hubris?

Damn, I was thirsty.

My boots tapped up and down gently with impatience as Clara pulled out a magazine to read. Looked like the super one the League put out. We were a little early, and I was only slightly on edge being sat out here in the wastes. The techie didn’t seem too nervous, but she had drank a glass of water recently.

[You know much about the S-Ranks?]

“Hmm? Oh, no. I have no interest in the gossip or ‘shows’ the League puts on, Gunquake.” She turned a page.

[Not even Bucket?]

Clara pulled a face. “I’ve met him one time, and he was a douche. Not only that, but a lot of his purported cybernetics are just armor. A double dose of the ick for me.”

I nodded and looked out into the darkness. Seemed cliche at this point, but I expected the supers at the highest Ranks to also have the biggest personality flaws. The most marketable, powerful, and willing to do what the League wanted. I already disliked them.

“Hey, Gunquake. Let’s play a game to pass the time?” She closed the magazine and put it on her lap. “How about Rockslide’s favorite - Three Questions?”

[Hmm, sure. You ask first, though.]

She nodded and turned in her chair to give me her full attention. “I’ll start with an easy one, then. What do you like most about Rockslide?”

[Probably how clumsy and earnest her manner of showing affection is. In some ways I miss the awkward phase when she was trying to be a good neighbor.]

“She is still plenty awkward, but a sweet answer, Gunquake. What’s your first question for me?”

[What is it you desire most in life?]

“Oh.” She tilted her head. “Going straight in deep for the philosophical stuff, huh? I think... overall, my craft is what means the most to me in life. Being able to improve in that field as best as I can, and hopefully help people like I was helped when I needed new eyes.”

I nodded. She had always come across that way, and was part of why I was supporting her and giving myself up as a pet project for her development. She could help others without the need of pomp and pageantry… or violence.

[Work is important.]

“It’s not all I want in life, Gunquake, but it makes me happy. I realize I am an odd duck, and perhaps a little eccentric. I don’t care for romance, but that doesn’t mean I am incapable of love or don’t seek joy in companionship.” She sighed and looked out of the window.

[I understand. Sometimes I wonder why I am entertaining starting a relationship with Roxy. It does not seem possible for me, yet it is something I am unable to control.]

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, Gunquake.” The techie gave me a sly grin. “It may not be a straightforward or traditional relationship, but if you are earnest and truthful with Rockslide, you will make it work.” She adjusted her seating position. “Anyway, enough mush or you’ll ruin the vibe. Second question. What is the worst way you have killed someone?”

[Ah. Seriously?]

She nodded politely, and I took a long breath.

[Twins. Human traffickers. I essentially waterboarded one with the slashed throat of the other.]

“Really?” Clara wrinkled up her face. “Can you even do that with blood? Doesn’t seem like it would be very effective.”

[They were unable to provide me with much feedback on the experience. Second question for you. Do you know more about me than you’ve let on?]

Her mouth opened and closed, her tongue not providing her with anything to say at first. She nodded her head. “No.”

Interesting. The nod was the truth, but she couldn’t it say out loud. In some ways, I was impressed that she didn’t break the rules and lie to me, as it would have been easy. Sounded like we had a new conversation to have back in the dining room.

[Shame. I’m still a barrel full of unknowns.]

She continued to nod, some apprehension in her face even if her eyes still had the same neutral glow to them.

[Your question. Last one, so make it good.]

“Do you ever… wish you could live a normal life? Get a hand prosthetic and jaw, just have a boring job or retire from all this?”

There was enough money in the bank that I could do that. If she didn’t get into the course or went for a League appointed tutor, I’d be able to afford some basic replacements where I could have a reasonably normal life. No killing or fighting. Secretive agencies no longer trying to use me as a pawn. Could even play househusband for Roxy.

[No. While there are certainly more facets of life I wish to cling to and nurture, I cannot change who I am at my core. That said, I am still finding out who I really am, but am pretty sure that solely being a househusband is unlikely.]

“Not sure I mentioned that, Gunquake, although the thought of you in an apron with a feather duster attachment to your gun-arm is amusing.” Her eyes wandered off in thought. “Remind me next month, it would make a great gift for Rockslide’s birthday.”

[Perhaps she was right, you do need marrying off.]

“No.” The techie smiled and leaned back in her chair. “I’m going to be an old hag with an army of robotic servants and will live vicariously through you and Rockslide like an overly inappropriate aunt.”

[That is… rather specific. You might still find someone that you can get along with, you shouldn’t count your chickens just yet. You gel well with me, after all.]

She turned her head to me and opened her eyes. “I do, don’t I? You’re respectful and understanding. Promised to fund my dream. Trusting and dependable. Some of you is even machined parts. Even now we are sitting here alone waiting for a gift that you have bought me…”

We maintained eye contact for a couple of seconds.

[Clara?]

“Yes, Gunquake?”

[I still have one question left.]

She raised an eyebrow. “What is it you would like to ask me?”

[Clara… why is it your diet seems to be solely plain bread and water?]

Her expression remained blank for a few moments before she smiled. “Very good. Few know this about me, so you now have even more reason to feel special, Gunquake. I actually do not have the ability to taste. Never have. Bread is like my comfort food - a texture that I can accept.”

[Part of me felt as though I was missing out not being able to eat. I suppose I’m not so eager now, knowing that we have something else in common.]

“That’s why we’re the best of friends, Gunquake.” She gave me a pat on the gun-arm. “And look - conveniently, our courier friend is arriving so that we don’t have to walk back any of this awkward mush.”

Dots of the van's lights in the distance. I rolled my eyes and popped the door open, turning to her before I stepped out.

[If Roxy doesn’t twist my head off over this, you think she’d be up for another movie night? The three of us?]

“I’m sure I can persuade her that it would be a good opportunity to feel you up in the dark.”

[Oh. Is that how you see it?]

Clara rolled her eyes. “I’ll let you decide, Gunquake. If you are more interested in the actual movie, you’ll swap which sides of you we sit. Now go deal with the odd van person.”

I waved her off and shut the door. Took a few steps through the cool air of the open wastes over to the rocks that were the landmark for our deliveries.

The techie was an odd one, and I had to admit I cared a lot about her. Not in the same way as I did the super, but there were elements to it. I wanted her to be safe and happy. As my personal cybernetics gal, she’d naturally be close to me.

I held up my gloved hand and flexed my fingers. The movie night was an idea to ground us. A little bit of comfort and closeness before things switched gears tomorrow. Whatever happened at the League, I was pulling myself fully out of the shadows and away from Boss in even meeting with the organization. If they accepted me or put me on the trials or whatever… my life wouldn’t be the same. Certain things couldn't be put back in the box.

Now I mostly wondered what Clara knew about me that she hadn’t been outspoken about. My past? Something actually innocent that sounded suspicious at the time? Was she privy to something behind the curtains of my many benefactors?

Difficult, but I tried not to let conspiracy and speculation cloud my thoughts. Brain was already mush from lack of hydration and too much innuendo.

I winced as the headlights of Van Michael’s van washed over me, and his vehicle pulled up over to the side.

As much as Clara was excited about the large purchase, I almost felt like running over to tear the back of the van open to find the last-minute nutrition canisters purchased.

My eyes fell to this near endless darkness surrounding this little rendezvous, the lights of the city the only beacon against the void.

One last dance in the shadows before I was plunged into the cold light of reality tomorrow.