I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my arm, still struggling to regain my breath. With our jackets now discarded across one of the kitchen stools, Clara stood opposite me near the sink. Equally as sweaty and out of sorts, she raised a glass of water up to her mouth with shaking hands.
“Perhaps that was a little too much, Gunquake.”
[I shouldn’t have let you…]
She took a sip and then placed it back down on the counter clumsily. “Look at me, completely physically exhausted. I clearly have to start working out if rolling around in the darkness with you is such an ordeal.”
[Well, we know a little better now. It is unlikely to happen again.]
“I’m almost relieved.” The techie shook her head and sighed to try to cool down. “Although I did enjoy myself, despite the current regrets.”
[I’m sure those will double once-]
A thud from outside cut off the rest of my sentence.
“What the fuck?”
Panic flared up in Clara’s eyes and she grabbed at my gun-arm, angling it up towards her face. “Quick, you can end this now and save us from what’s to come.”
[I’m not going to… Let go of my arm.]
Despite being much stronger than the petite and exhausted woman, I didn’t want to be too rough in case I accidentally hurt her with the end of the barrel as she manhandled me. Left hand came out, and I grabbed her by the shoulder to try to pry her away gently.
Front door swung open and Roxy stepped in, immediately turning to the open kitchen doorway.
We froze. My weapon up against Clara’s neck, the techie trying to remove my hand that was grabbing her as she leaned back against the counter.
The super blinked twice before her hand came up to rub at the bridge of her nose. She groaned.
[It’s not what it looks like.]
“I don’t even know what it looks like, Dubs.” Her hand fell away, and she gave an exasperated shrug.
“We were arguing over which movie to watch, if you’re up for it?”
Roxy narrowed her eyes. “You can’t bullshit me, you witch. I don’t care what you two weirdos were really up to. Why are there flatpack prefab buildings just outside my front yard?”
Clara and I released the grip on each other and we stood up straight.
[As you didn’t want a workshop inside the house, I wanted to build one for Clara outside for our future projects.]
The super rolled her tongue around in her mouth, perhaps trying to decide how much of the kitchen she wanted to redecorate with my insides. After a few tense moments of potential pre-violence, she put her hands on her hips.
“Gremlin, go pick out the movie. I need a minute with this walking disaster.”
Clara nodded and practically scurried past, only briefly shooting me an apologetic glance before vanishing into the living room. Roxy stepped toward me slowly, stopping barely a foot away. Her amber eyes stared into mine.
“Had another shitty shift today, Dubs.”
Unsure of most social conventions that didn’t revolve around violence, I took a risk and opened my arms up for a hug. Either I was lucky, or the super was soft enough to humor me, as she immediately came in and put her arms around me too.
“Ah. I prefer this to us fighting,” she said, her tone remarkably gentle considering I was half sure she was about to squeeze me like a tube of toothpaste.
[Clara and I were just exhausted from trying to move the prefab walls off of the trailer. When you arrived, she seemed to think me shooting her would be preferable to having you mad at us.]
Roxy sighed and rubbed her face into my collarbone area before looking up at me again. “You both seem to get into some suspicious situations together.”
[After what you said earlier, I apologize.]
“Clara is both your nurse and mechanic. There’s bound to be a more intimate bond than just friendship.” The super tilted her head. “I trust you both, but to maintain that, you have to be honest with me. So you should have told me about the workshop. I would have come around to it.”
[Last time we argued was partly due to my incessant ambition driving discomfort between us. I… realize that hiding things from you won’t take any disagreements away, but instead drive a wedge between what we hope to become.]
She pouted. “You soft sack of shit. Can I be honest about something with you, too?”
[Of course.]
Her hands moved from my back and up so that she held my face gently. “I’ve been putting some credits aside so that we can buy you a mouth.”
[Oh?]
“I know it’s a little selfish, Dubs.” She moved her face up closer to my re-breather. “But after I beat the ever-loving shit out of you in our duel, I want to have a face hole I can stick my tongue down.”
She pressed into me and I leaned back slightly.
“Gunquake? Monitor is showing your heart-rate increasing by a lot.”
[Well, we can certainly see what is possible.]
“Glad we are on the same page, then.” She gave me a confident smile, but her face was practically radiating heat from how much she was blushing. As she stepped away, her eyes caught the side of my neck. “Oh - new canisters? Any good?”
[Reasonable. When they are cooled they are very refreshing, but we’ll have to see long-term. Oh, that reminds me.]
I stepped away from her and turned to the freezer containing the group of new canisters. Just beside them, I pulled out a tub and held it out to her.
“More mint choc-chip?” She bit her lip. “You do me a disservice, but I think with this and the movie, any work stress should just wither away. Looks like you saved the day, hero-to-be.”
We turned and stepped out of the kitchen to find Clara waiting in the lobby already.
“If it’s not too forward, Gunquake, I would like to clean your gun while we pretend to watch the movie?”
I raised an eyebrow at Roxy.
She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Go for it. If either of you are able to get off from that, then you’re welcome to it. I’m going to get into something comfortable.”
[It has been a while since I gave it a good servicing.]
Clara watched the super walk up the stairs before gesturing toward the dining room. “There’s a reason I said ‘clean’ and not ‘service’, Gunquake. I’ve already come close to death enough for one day.”
We stepped into the room and the Dead Zone lit up green after the techie hit some buttons on the already-on laptop. She then avoided the inevitable by not meeting my gaze as she rifled through the cases for the gun maintenance stuff.
[I have two questions for you.]
She winced and turned to me as I crossed my arms. “Fair, Gunquake. What is your first?”
[You’ve been coaching Roxy on things to say to me.]
A wry grin peeked from the edge of her apprehension. “That’s the sort of thing I would take to my grave, even if true. Not really a question, either, Gunquake.”
[I suppose then I would like to know what you meant in the van. You know something about me you haven’t mentioned before?]
Her eyes went up to the green Dead Zone devices, before back to me. “I’ve been wanting to tell you, so please don’t think I’ve been deceitful, Gunquake.” Her fingers drummed on the held case and her brow furrowed. “I wasn’t sure if after your meeting was best, but… the League knows what group you used to be a part of.”
[Oh, I see.]
A clear answer lay out there in the void. Something nearby, in some ways, but still unattainable. It made sense that she didn’t want to clue me in just yet, with my meeting with the organization tomorrow. It wouldn’t be a good look if I tried to forcefully dig the truth out of them. Too late in the day for me to get wound about it, so eventually I just gave her a slow nod.
[And you're certain?]
“Adversity breeds excellence.” She held the case up to her chest. “But that’s all that I’ve been able to get from them. I hope this doesn’t sour our rapport, Gunquake?”
[Depends on how good a job you do cleaning my shotgun.]
She smiled, and we went into the living room to do just that. Roxy came down not too long after, now in shorts and a t-shirt. Television illuminated the three of us in the darkness. Some movie about a demonic gunslinger. Near the start, the super ate her ice-cream while the techie maintained my weapon. By the time the credits started to roll, Roxy was holding my hand, her head rested against my shoulder, while Clara was asleep against my gun-arm.
And me? I wasn’t focused on the film. My eyes looked past the TV to the window behind it. A slight reflection of the three of us obscuring some of the pitch black of the night.
I was a killer… but look at me now.
Even in my previous life, or at least what I could draw from it, I never had what could be called a family. Other people in my squad, sure. But that was a working comradeship. Different from what I had at present.
Whether I had been drawn to this through my own actions, or led along the path by the entities with a stake in my continued existence, it didn’t matter. This was what I wanted.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
And I would do anything to protect it.
We roused from this quiet slice of contentedness and each went our separate ways to bed. Although I was definitely tired, the thought of what tomorrow might bring kept the plates spinning. I paused at the doorway of the spare room and glanced back to see the super go into her room. Another spinning plate was the duel the day after.
Seemed more performative at this point, more than anything. A knock on her door right now and I could be squeezed between those muscled arms. Melting away quicker than her favorite ice-cream. Still, I need to see what she was made of, when she really needed to fight for something she believed in.
I closed the door and looked over at the empty bed, amused for a moment at feeling… alone?
Shook my head and stripped down to my lower layers. Obviously lighting up the faux-government agent hadn’t been enough violence for the day, and I’d been losing my edge.
Settled into bed, with no messages awaiting me, nor any other thoughts to prevent me from drifting off.
----------------------------------------
“Get your ass in the van, Dubs!”
I stepped down the stairs, trying to get my plate carrier to settle properly, while the super stood at the open front door with her arms crossed. Perhaps I had one of my straps crossed?
[We have plenty of time to make the drive, dear.]
“Do not start.” She leveled an exceptionally aggressive finger toward me. “This is a huge day and my over-stressing is valid. I’m staking some of my career and reputation on you being well-behaved.”
[I will be nothing but calm and affable, I promise.]
“You’ll do as you're told and hurry up and so that I don’t turn into a volcano.” Her outstretched hand went out as I approached, snaking behind my vest to draw out an errant strap that had gotten tangled.
[Thank you, I-]
Roxy leaned forward to give me a peck on the side of the face. “Shutthefuckup and mooove.” Her hand went behind me to push me out - rather gently considering her strength.
Clara was already sitting in the driver’s side of the van - our transport since the super couldn’t tuck me under her arm and leap us there. I probably shouldn’t even put that thought out into the world. The techie looked like she had also been woken up against her will, but knew how to ride out the wave of Roxy’s panic.
On the plus side, being rushed about had prevented me from thinking too much and worrying about my meeting myself. Not that I would ever admit to being worried - I had an image to uphold… but this was a significant step in… something bigger. Becoming a superhero? To some degree, but that wasn’t my end goal… just a step.
Brow furrowed at my own thoughts as I stepped into the back of the vehicle, casting a quick glance at the stacks of off-white units waiting patiently to be set up sitting outside near her lawn. Doors closed, Roxy was in, and then we were off down the toward the city. Just as simple as that.
[If we survive today, can you help us assemble the workshop, Roxy?]
She turned her head, about to bite back with something - before her expression cooled off. “Sure, Dubs. You have a lethal weapon for a hand and Clara is a bag of wet noodles. I can’t imagine you’d get far left alone.”
“I almost died three times from being crushed just getting them off the trailer.”
Roxy exhaled and turned back. “I keep telling you that you need more protein in your diet.”
The techie was silent for a handful of seconds, maybe just focusing on her driving, before she eventually shrugged. “Will you help me with that? Sometimes I just focus on my work too much.”
“Of course, hun. Dubs is going to start training soon. We can do it as a group?”
[I assume the League will have certain fitness requirements?]
“They do.” Roxy looked back at me again. “As a guy, you have it a little easier. Doubly so being a tech super. Triply so because your proposed outfit covers most of your attractive lumps, anyway.” She pulled a face. “Objectively speaking.”
[My outfit is only ‘proposed’?]
“Oh sweet Dubs, welcome to the circus.” She sighed once more and turned to look out the front.
I was pretty dead set on how I looked. No doubt it’d be subject to approval, just like my superhero name was. Putting the cyber-horse before the cart at this stage, as they might not accept me. The actual process what somewhat opaque, and I had been led along to just go with it whatever happened.
We settled into an apprehensive silence for the rest of the way. My thoughts mostly ran through worse-case scenarios, imagining how I could fight my way out of the League building, depending on what heroes they thought could stop me. For the most part, I imagined Roxy - as that was happening tomorrow.
Even with my order of extra tools and gadgets later, I didn’t know how high my chances of winning were. Unless she went soft on me again, in which case she would regret it. And then I would no doubt regret it, setting our budding relationship back even further. That was the whole point, however. She wouldn’t give the League her all because she didn’t believe in their rules - so how far would she go for me?
Van pulled up to the side of the street and Roxy gave the longest sigh I’d ever heard.
“I’m at peace with whatever happens. Let’s go.”
Still had plenty of time, but I wasn’t about to argue. Out of the back of the van on onto the sidewalk I went.
“It’s Rockslide!” someone off to the side announced, far too much youth and excitement in their voice for me to want to engage.
I watched the super walk past me over to the nearby fans, a wide grin on her face that almost fooled me. Rather than get drawn into that mess, I stepped over to the open driver’s window, where the techie had her head leaning out to watch.
[Up to much today?]
“I need to find a stim replacement for you, set up the new home defense protocol, and then do some last-minute things for tomorrow.” She looked away from the super and up to me. “Make sure you don’t let them bully you about, Gunquake. You have the advantage of already knowing your worth.”
[Wise words, Clara. Thank you.]
She smiled and sunk back into her seat. “Of course. Good luck and drop me a message when you’re done.”
I nodded as she started the van back up and pulled away. Turned my gaze to the skyscraper beside me. League of Heroes etched across the front in large letters, imprinted atop a lightning bolt. Front section was glass windows but tinted a deep blue that hid the interior. Wide revolving door in the center, but it didn’t seem to be getting much traffic at all.
Roxy stepped over, the smile still on her face. “Autographs. Bet you can’t wait?”
With a wince, I looked behind her at the two people walking off, looking like… well, like they’d just met their hero. Could I do that? A mass murderer who didn’t know how to interact with normal people under the cold light of day.
“C’mon, Dubs.” She nudged me. “I can see you breaking out in a cold sweat already.”
At her behest, I followed toward the building, and my boots entered the revolving doors. I emerged from the other side into a large room. Empty space of speckled blue marble flooring and eggshell walls. At the other end of this large space was a small desk. In the back corners were elevators. Polished metal offering ascension to the floors above. I followed the super over to the desk.
A head leaned to the side of a monitor - a mess of gray hair on a wiry and aged face. Bright eyes despite his apparent seniority, the pale green cardigan and light gray slacks making the man look more at home somewhere much more casual than the reception of the League of Heroes headquarters.
“Ah, Lady Rockslide and guest. What a pleasure to see you as always. Floor ten, room C today.”
“Thank you, Miguel. This is Gunquake.” She gave him a brief curtsey before showing me off like a prized ham.
[It is nice to make your acquaintance.]
He smiled wider, and his eyes practically sparkled. “And yours! What a powerful voice you have. I do hope your visit to the League is a pleasant one.”
Roxy herself had a much more genuine smile on her face now. “You’ll have to tell me how your garden is doing after my meeting.”
“I can’t wait.” He nodded his head toward the elevator on our left. “You take care, Lady Rockslide. Master Gunquake.”
As the super went off, I paused briefly to give him a short bow - which he seemed to appreciate. I wasn’t sure of the conventions here… or really most social conventions in general. Elevator opened up, and we stepped into the small metal box - floor the same tiles as the main lobby, but walls were a rich wood. I noted there were no button panels.
“Miguel sends us up,” Roxy explained, catching where my eyes were searching. “He is a super, although I am sure you didn’t clock that?” Her wry grin was enough to signal that I was entirely in her domain now.
[He controls some of the building functions?]
She nodded as the vertigo of the elevator moving up caused us to wobble slightly. “Has impeccable memory, as well. Remembers all appointments, who comes and goes.”
[I assume there are still digital records, cameras and such, everywhere?]
“Everywhere,” she confirmed. “Probably the most monitored place in the city. Visual, audio, heat signature, smells… probably other things as well.”
[Imagine that I made a whistling noise with how impressed I am.]
I didn’t need telling twice that we would be under watch ever since we stepped through the door. A non-zero possibility that I was walking into a trap… but I’d like to think that Roxy wouldn’t be able to hide something like that from me. If she even knew.
I’d just keep things calm and business-like. Polite and… secretive. Even if they knew me better than I knew myself, I wasn’t about to confirm anything or give anything I didn’t want to.
The small deathtrap slowed to a stop, and with a sharp ding, the doors opened up. Polished wooden wall straight across from us had a white placard with the number ten on it. At least we had made it to the right floor.
I was counting every small win today.
Roxy gave me a reassuring smile, the nerves back around her eyes, as she led me out and to the right. Apparently, according to a smaller sign, meeting rooms C to E were in this direction.
Soft carpet. The hum of computers and other technology in smaller offices. Daylight and luminescent bulbs intertwined. Brief glances from suited individuals. It was a little overwhelming without having an explosive escape or permission to put holes in everything giving me the ick.
That said, it was interesting that I had been allowed entrance being fully armed - at least to my current level of equipment.
Meeting Room C appeared as a double set of wooden doors, no other features. Roxy gestured to two mildly comfortable seats beside the room, so we sat and waited.
“Miguel will let us know when they are ready for us.”
I nodded and idly thought about how I would fight my way out of here. Windows must be Vibrex at the least, probably even stronger. I wouldn’t have the intended access to the elevators if I were deemed a bad guy, but there must be a staircase somewhere for safety reasons. No doubt there were a host of other supers within the building. Some visiting, and some specifically for the defense and running of the headquarters.
In any other circumstance, this was not a place I’d want to be.
Actually, I wasn’t even sure this circumstance really warranted my desire to be here. Other than the dour existence my new outfit alluded to, I was barely the same man as I used to be. I could talk. There was no Boss. Two new friends - one of which was next to me and doing her best to not put her hand on me for reassurance. And… a lot less murder.
I also hadn’t been half-dead for… a good two days? Wasn’t that impressive now that I thought about it.
The door ahead clunked as it became unlocked, the sudden sound causing me to tense up.
“That’s our cue.” Roxy stood and straightened out her suit. Stood a little taller.
I tried mimicking her, but my heart wasn’t in it. I’d clearly need some time to be beaten into shape by whatever rules I’d be put under. Assuming that they’d even consider me joining.
Stepped through the doorway behind the super into a medium-sized room. Plush carpet that was remarkably soft beneath my boots. Light gray. Walls were an off-white once again, with rich wood trimming. An oval table in polished obsidian sat in the center of the room, three figures already sitting on the opposite side. Our side just had the two seats.
“Rockslide. Gunquake,” the central man beckoned. “Please sit.”
The door clicked shut and locked behind us - something rather ominous. Given Miguel’s ability, he could probably monitor and open or close any door when needed, so it was only a slight concern at present. We stepped across the floor in near silence and sat at the two chairs, the creak of my trench-coat the loudest thing in the room - aside from my pounding heartbeat.
Of the three seated opposite us, it was fair to assume the one in the middle was the one in charge. His very existence screamed executive suit. Slicked back hair as dark as his eyes behind rounded glasses, a clean shave that barely hinted that he could even grow facial hair. Dark gray three-piece with flawlessly white pressed shirt beneath. Picture perfect - almost the complete opposite of me.
To my right was an androgenous woman in a dress that seemed to be patched together from whatever odds and ends a fabric store threw out. Bright and gaudy, but enticing in an odd way like a peacock - something further dyed-in by her sharp features and the two large feathers protruding from the right side of her hat. While the first man had seemed indifferent to my arrival, she had been ogling me with intensity, as if I were a handful of fresh seed.
On the left side of the table, a second man was slouched back in his chair. Tank top and cut-off combats showing the impressive musculature he worked for, damped slightly by the portly stomach on him. Short beard of red-brown hair that was possibly hiding a second chin, and eyes that spent too long looking at Roxy for my liking. Whistle around his neck, as if the three of them could only exist by becoming as cliche as reality allowed them.
The suit tidied up some of his papers, stacking them straight on the table before laying them down flat. His hands came together atop the pile, and his eyes looked between the two of us.
“Thank you for both coming in.” He didn’t smile, but that seemed more like a lack of ability than desire. “Obviously Rockslide knows who I am, but for your sake, Gunquake, I would like to introduce our interview panel.”
He unclasped his hands and sat up straight and gestured to his right. “This is Mr Crawford. He is in charge of Hero training and combat performance.” Man gave me a nod and grunt, but didn't seem too enthused. Hand returned and his left went out. “And this is Madame Gray. Her department deals with suit design and Hero marketing.” Her eyes bulged a little wider as she gave me a polite smile.
The hands of the suited gentleman now rose, and he placed them together. “I am Director Kingston, head of recruitment and… other things that aren’t quite important at present.”
[Pleasure to meet you all.]
I gave them a slight bow, which was awkward to do while seated.
“I’m certain of it.” The Director returned a nod, before looking down at his pages.
Silence filled the room as he read down some text I couldn’t see from this angle. Once content enough that some attempted power-play at making me wait had ended, he turned the page over, the crisp sound making me wince.
“Okay." He steepled his hands together as his eyes narrowed. "For starters, Gunquake, please tell me why we shouldn’t kill you where you sit?”