I had somehow lucked my way into having a social life. Not without some teething issues, and a few near-deaths along the way, but I had made it. Even the way in which Roxy clicked into being confident with me was surprising. Something about her power awakening had been an ice-breaker, and the occasional blushing embarrassment of before had burned away to just being contented closeness.
With the strongest pout she could muster, she gave up on trying to draw on her volcano powers for the day. Roy had still managed to burn his upper arms while using the tazer-fist weapons, and earned himself a migraine along with some admonishment from the techie for overdoing it.
The rest of the afternoon was spent helping Clara moving things into the workshop. Well, it was mostly the two supers doing the hard work while she bossed them about. I had leave from any difficult work due to her insistence that there was still a chance I could pop open like an overstuffed soft toy and spill my red fluff all over the garden.
Roxy stole every chance to put her hand on me or find a place somewhere around my upper body that felt satisfying enough to kiss. At least, until Clara handed me the important parts of my contract and shooed the super away until I finished getting the information inside my head.
Apparently this superhero stuff was more involved than I previously thought.
The public appearance rules were the most egregious. It looked as though Clara had shuffled away everything that didn’t pertain to vigilante heroes, as luckily I wouldn’t need to do as much showboating as the rest. In fact, if I could push on the anti-hero vibe, then I’d at most only have to do a handful of ‘nice asshole’ showings to keep my good standing with the populace.
Personal Rank was different from Group Rank, but often paired together. Lowest tier was E, and it went up to S. For superheroes, they didn’t limit how many were allowed per tier, but it was based on the number of powers as well as strength and control over said powers. Each higher tier meant a higher salary from the League, as well as more marketing opportunities, merch, and better missions to fight against higher profile threats.
For Groups, there was only one S-Rank team. Three A-Ranks, then five each of B and C-Rank. Seems they didn’t bother making anything lower than that. Getting Roxy to A-Rank would be a big step for promoting the whole team, who were currently sinking out of the lower end of B-Rank - but the others would have to put in their all as well.
We didn’t all need to match her, but our overall strength and value to the League would have to beat out the lowest tiered A-Rank once we had risen to the highest B-Rank.
I quickly grew tired of the word ‘Rank’ and added it alongside ‘super’ as things I repeated far too often.
Now I was concerned at how I would be Ranked, and if I might drag everyone else down. I’d have to collar Clara at some point and have a proper sitdown over how I can be even better than yesterday.
Most of my work would be in shifts. Three days a week at first, and mostly nights due to my intended role. City patrols unless they had a specific villain or criminal group that they had intel on and wanted me to rough up. Some of it just seemed to be… making a showing, at least. Have some civilians spot me perched atop a gargoyle looking brooding or something else cliche like that.
I wasn’t a fan of it, but I’d play along.
With my permission, Clara obtained the workbench and whatever else she wanted from my prior home. Roxy suggested that I burn the mattress and destroy whatever we didn’t take. The techie counter-suggested that she could turn it into a proper kill-room with some small modifications. Neither super seemed keen on that idea.
Something I’d have to get used to. The League of Heroes wasn’t impressed with wholesale murder, and the violence I usually employed would have to be toned down. A little difficult considering my right arm was a lethal weapon and I had the techie bouncing about in the background figuring out new warcrime-worthy cartridges I could shoot things with.
If we ever turned villain, then we’d… no, best not to even think that out into the world.
The induction would be similar trials as the sidekick route. A little more varied. Some set up missions and some actual live criminal fighting. Judged through all parts. Those, plus the results of the blood test, went toward my Rank.
Although Clara and I had a million things to get through, my transportation to the city would need to be in better shape than at present. Roy assured me he knew a guy that could do a good job of repairing the scratches and dents I’d earned on the bike by falling into a ditch after killing the Five Eyes. Might even be able to upgrade some parts of it. Joy.
As the afternoon rolled to a close and dusk started to dim the lighting across the outskirts of the city, we retired to the lounge. Dining room all but cleared and most of the workshop either outfitted or storing things ready for using in the future. I was half tempted to order a third building, specifically as a warehouse, so the current larger room could house machinery - but we’d build things up when required.
TV on, Roy reclined on the side chair while the pair of woman sat either side of me as was tradition. The two supers had bottles of beers they had been nursing, while the techie had replaced my canister and then all but fallen asleep against me. After having to put me back together, I didn’t blame her for being a wreck for a few days.
“This is one of my favorites,” Roy informed us, gesturing to the movie.
“Really?” Roxy tilted her head. “Kind of odd for a zombie movie.”
“To have a zombie as the protagonist? Yeah, I like the dark humor, though.”
[I will admit the anti-hero angle appeals to me.]
The strength super rolled her eyes, but squeezed my hand. “Typical.”
I had been allowed to wear a white t-shirt, which was pleasant after being in nothing but sports underwear for the whole day. While the wound on the outside of me was healing at an extraordinary rate, I was still bruised and Clara was insistent that most of the internal damage would need further time to recover. I believed her, barely imagining what she had to go through to put me back in one living piece.
As was also tradition, I didn’t think any of us were actually watching the movie, aside from Roy. Clara was close to drooling down my gun-arm as her tired weight pressed against it. On my left, I could almost hear the cogs clicking around in Roxy's head as she tried to imagine other ways she could activate her powers.
I didn’t really know where I stood on anything at present. Exhausted in my own way. Stims were almost out, so no faux stamina to keep me going. All energy draining from my canister was going into repairing my shattered insides. There was some… excited tension at getting to sleep beside the super tonight.
It was soon, but I understood her reasons.
We’d known each other for such a short time, and yet I had almost died three or four times. She didn’t want to regret not having these moments by taking our relationship slower. I shared the sentiment. A month ago, the only relationship I had was a disembodied voice telling me who to kill for money I didn’t care for. Now I had the pick of things I could be thankful for.
Starting tomorrow, I would-
“Ah!” Clara bolted upright and leaped from the couch.
Roxy and I were up on our feet just as quick.
[What’s wrong?]
The techie stared off unfocused for a moment, before her green eyes glowing in the dim light of the lounge switched to us. “It’s a response from Dr Jarl’s institute.”
“The cyber doc?” Roxy asked. “What does it say?”
I felt the tension grip at my insides and hoped it was just empathy rather than my organs turning to mush.
“I don’t know. I’m too anxious to open it.” She grimaced in an out-of-character display of worry.
Roy shuffled in his chair. “What I usually do if I’m nervous about something is-”
“Okay, I’ve opened it.” Clara’s eyes went back and forth over invisible text as Roxy gripped at my arm. Thankfully, she was controlling her strength.
Silence filled the room, save for the groaning and muffled quips coming from the television.
Clara’s eyes turned to me, and her shoulders slumped. Mouth scrunched up into a glum pout for several seconds, and then she burst.
“I got accepted!” She leaped up onto me and I caught her in a hug. Roxy put her arms around both of us and we had a little group moment, while the speedster sat rather confused.
Remembering that I was rather fragile, the techie slid back to the floor, her eyes only barely brighter than the smile on her face. “Again, imagine that I had the ability to cry and was doing so profusely. I cannot thank you enough, Gunquake.”
[No need. Only the best for my future sidekick. You saved my life six times yesterday, so this pales in comparison.]
“Six times?” Roxy asked, narrowing her eyes. “You said it was just the one, gremlin.”
“Technically, it was eight, but the tech skipped two of the times you flatlined.”
“Clara!” The super sighed and rubbed at her eyes. “Well, thanks for doing that and fucking hell yeah, we need to celebrate this, right?”
The techie nodded enthusiastically. “I actually have way too much energy to exist at a comfortable level. Could we use the gym so I can calm down?”
“Fucking yes, let’s do this. I wanted to see if working out helped with my power as well.”
Roxy led the practically vibrating woman out of the room, shooting me a wide smile over her shoulder. Another success case, I was sure she was telling me. I agreed, and was elated myself.
I sighed, rattling my re-breather. Turned around to face the rather confused looking speedster. Gestured with my head.
[Want to get some fresh air?]
With a nod, it wasn’t long before the two of us were sitting on the porch. The cool air felt nice, and gave me time to reflect on what a day it had been.
“You’ve got something real good going on here,” Roy said, breaking the silence. “It’s honestly… night and day compared to the housewarming party.”
[I’ve had a bath or two since then, I suppose.]
“Dickhead.” He chuckled. “Even Rox. I don’t know if she’s told you, so I apologize if I’m kicking the shitter over here, but her last relationship didn’t end well and the asshole really put her through the wringer in the public eye.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
[And the League didn’t make it any better, causing her to feel disenfranchised with the organization?]
He nodded slowly. “Not just a pretty face, are you? Get the details from her, as I don’t want to start some he-said, she-said crap and get people killed. Seeing her out of her shell again gives me hope for the team.”
[I’m glad. I intend to get this team back up and running.]
“Hmm. About that… well, adjacent to that.” He took a brief swig from his bottle. “Rox mentioned you’re saving for face surgery. I’d like to put a little in the pot.”
[Oh? There’s a queue if you’re interested in kissing me.]
“Fuck you, Dubs.” He grinned. “It’s dirty money, anyway. Couldn’t touch it even if I wanted to, which I don’t. It might be a drop in the bucket, but it’s there if you want it.” He held his arm out, his STAR projecting a balance total in front of me.
100,000 credits, give or take.
[You sure about this?]
“Of course. The way you’re going, you’ll push the team to A-Rank in no time and you’ll make this money back for me tenfold.”
[The difference is that much, huh?]
“It’s significant, but nobody at that level will yap about specifics.”
Made sense. I could imagine that the S-Rank super group were probably millionaires, if not close. I’d need to prod Roxy with these additional funds and see what her collection looked like so far. Then we’d need to get quotes - although with Clara now working for one of the best cybernetics experts around, we may have found our ideal surgeon.
That being said, I wondered how she’d find time for League work, her education with Dr Jarl, and being my full-time sidekick. Perhaps we’d better manage her time more realistically.
[You still hanging about here hoping that I’ll unlock a dormant power for you too?]
He rolled his eyes before sighing. “A man can’t just chill with his friends now? You’re a bunch of freaky-ass misfits, but at least I don’t feel slimy being around you. Makes a pleasant change from all the criminals and scumbags… so, thanks for the invite.”
[Of course, Roy. You saved my life too, remember?]
“Only because you forced me to, asshole!” The speedster shook his head before looking out to the darkness of the wastes. A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. “Not much chance of me having any further power, anyway. I was… what they call a late bloomer. Didn’t get my powers until well into adulthood.”
[While you were serving?]
“Yup. I was always known as a spry fucker, quicker than most - but nothing out of the ordinary. Rose in the ranks until one day I found myself leading a platoon off-continent in some place with a name I couldn’t pronounce. Just running peacekeeping patrols for some unstable area, nothing too spicy. Two weeks and not a peep from the insurgent force. We liked those kinds of deployments, even if they were boring as shit.”
Roy exhaled through his nose and looked down at the bottle. “Then one evening some terrible storm rolled over. Like nothing we’d seen - torrential rain, wind that whipped and chilled your skin, and some fucking lightning that felt like the gods were angry at us. Course, that’s when the fuckers decided to attack.”
I remained quiet, nodding along with his story.
“With the ambient noise and reduced visibility, they rolled up on us before we realized. Janky tech, but when you’re ambushed, even a thrown rock could do damage. My group was pinned in the crossfire. Took casualties while our evacuation vehicle rolled up. I just… had to get them all back inside. That’s when my power decided to activate.”
He rolled his tongue around in his mouth before turning his eyes back to me. “They say I saved twelve lives that day. Funny that my brain only remembers the five that I couldn’t.”
[Then the League took you in, tried to make you a hero.]
“Yeah. Was difficult to feel like one at that point, no matter what pressers and shiny badges they put on me. So… I slipped up. Didn’t want to be looked up to, so stuck both feet in the underworld and hoped… well, for something.”
[For a mouthless knight in shining armor to show you the light?]
“You’re the mouthiest shithead I know, Dubs.” Some light returned to his eyes. “Not sure why I even told you all that. Your power includes giving therapy sessions to misguided supers?”
Usually with a few inches of reinforced steel through their skulls, but it was looking like the softer approach was also getting results.
[I’m taking control of my life and arranging things how I need them to be.]
“Arranging other people how you need them as well.” He gave me a brief smile before downing the rest of his beer. “Not that I have any complaints. League is already champing at the bit for my revival once I can return. Your lass Clara has sent me the details of three different martial arts courses, with no further context.”
[Her ambition surpasses my own. It honestly scares me some days.]
Roy chuckled and stood up, stretching himself out. His finger tapped on the side of the empty bottle and he looked down at me. “Cloudy past, right? I have some contacts in the private sector. Want me to dig around?”
Part of me was almost happier not knowing. Every day survived just shoveled dirt atop the corpse of my former self. But… it wasn’t my own machinations I had to be wary of. With both the League and Boss hanging just out of view, waiting to prod me, it would be better to know the full picture. At least then, knowing the truth, I could better arrange the future.
[Please, Roy. Even if it’s just a dead-end, I would appreciate any efforts made.]
“Of course, Dubs. Anything to help Rox get her group into shape.” He gave me a wink and gestured out to the darkness. “Say, how good a shot are you?”
[We can find out. Bear in mind this is a shotgun, not a sniper rifle.]
“Sounds more like a you issue.” From his other hand, he flipped the bottle cap into the air toward me.
I caught it and slapped it into the open chamber, just as he zipped out across the garden into the darkness. The barest amount of light picked out his frame against the rolling wastelands beyond, the bottle held in his hand.
With a quick crouch, he then threw it up into the air.
Could only just see it against the night’s sky. Occasional blink of light as the moon graced the length of it. I dropped from my chair onto one knee, the rush of Reflex sinking through my body with a chill. Overcharge flashed through my arm and I fired.
Bottle burst, shattering into dozens of pieces as the cap continued off into the distance a way.
As my body cooled down, the speedster whipped back and forth in the garden, catching each of the shards of glass. Content enough that he got them all, he walked over to the porch and placed them down in a neat pile.
“Rox would beat my head in if I left glass all over her lawn.”
[A valid motivation to excel.]
“You should know.” He shook his head and wiped his hands off on his shirt. “Can’t believe you now have a metal ribcage because she hit you so hard, and you two are still smooching. Or whatever the equivalent for you is.”
[Again, you are surprised at this despite me throwing myself in death’s way to make you choose a side.]
The speedster crossed his arms and sighed. “One day, my friend, you’ll do that with someone even more of a shitbag than we are, and you’ll die.”
[I’d certainly feel foolish about that. I’ll let you in on a little secret though, Roy.]
With a grunt, I stood back up to my feet and shook my arm out. Clara might be annoyed I’d just used a shard of metal as a projectile after she’d given me a good clean, but I figured she’d be too happy with her education offer to pay any attention just yet.
[I only gamble on guaranteed wins.]
“What?” He scowled at me. “That makes no fucking sense. You couldn’t guarantee I’d save you, or that Rox would have held back at the last moment.”
[Pretty sure I did, though.]
“You’re an asshole, Dubs.” Roy’s exasperated disdain faded away into a grin. “Been a good one. Give my regards to the girls, but I have to zoom now. Try not to die before I next see you.”
[Safe travels, Captain.]
With a quick salute, he was gone. Across the lawn, my yard, and then off toward the rough road leading to the city. Hopefully he had decent nightvision, at least until he got to the area lit by streetlamps. I couldn’t imagine how much injury he could cause himself tripping over at his speed.
Shook my head off and took one last deep breath of cool night air, before turning and going back into the house.
Stopped in the lobby as Roxy was coming down the stairs with a towel wrapped around her neck, hair wet.
[All is well?]
She grinned and gave me a nod. “Just needed a refresh. Exercise didn’t bring out my volcano, unfortunately.”
The super stepped past me and into the kitchen, her eyes lingering on me as I followed her through.
[How did Clara fare?]
I sat down on one of the stools as she went over to the freezer.
“Poor thing lasted five minutes before falling asleep. I took her upstairs and tucked her into bed before I washed my face off. She puts on that stoic robotic act, but everything that has happened in the last couple of days has absolutely shattered her.”
[Hurts me to think about her doing all that surgery to me on her own.]
“She’s a tough little gremlin, I’ll give her that.” She turned, tub of ice-cream in her hands as she leaned back against the counter. “Kinda have to be desensitized to that stuff when you work in cybernetics, but… it was probably still an overload for her.”
[Perhaps we all need the time off.]
Roxy nodded. “We’re essentially on sick leave as far as the League is concerned. They’re kind of annoyed that half our group is now out of action, but you should have seen them when they found out what I’d done. Could see the credit symbols in the suit's eyes.”
Naturally, the more powerful a super was, the more the League could utilize them for missions and as a marketable product. In terms of basics, being a living volcano was a shot of adrenaline to the masses, compared to the more bland super-strength that was more common. It was even exciting for me, how much more of a threat she was.
[Is it bad that sometimes I try to imagine how I would kill you?]
The super put the spoon up to her lips in thought. “It’s kinda hot, actually. Like having that competition is motivation to not languish again. I don’t think us having regular duels is healthy, though.”
[Is that because you know I’d eventually win?]
“You know I could spoon your eyes out right now and there’s nothing you could do to stop me?” She raised an eyebrow.
[Hmm. You’re right, that is kind of hot.]
Roxy shook her head and smiled. “Dumbass. Oh, you’ll never guess what the little gremlin somehow found the time to make for you?”
[Is it something to prevent my eyes from getting spooned out?]
“No. Quit foreshadowing that, as I actually really like your eyes.” She pulled a face and tried to reel back in her train of thought as she dug into the tub. “She made a shotgun cozy.”
[So that it doesn’t get cold?]
“Presumably so you don’t accidentally jab me or give me a black eye with the unwieldy thing while we’re sleeping. It’s basically just a pillow with a hole through it, but I don’t know where the woman finds the time to have so many productive thoughts.”
She had definitely earned the rest, and my financial help for her education. While her power wasn’t in a specific strength like the rest of us, she was a force multiplier. Able to extend our capabilities, sharpen out the rough ends, and make us more effective. I’m sure that Roxy would love for me to spend my millions on the new face… but I was investing in all of us first. We’d discuss the mouth fund in the morning, and see how far off that ploy was.
“Ah.” The super chucked the spoon in the sink. “Not being able to cook us food is making me lazy and eating ice cream again. Need to do an extra shift in the gym tomorrow to make up for all this… although I reckon bleeding lava burned a few calories?”
I shrugged. Sounded… reasonable, from what I knew - which wasn’t that much.
[You still look as dazzling as the day I first met you.]
“Liar, you hated my annoying ass.” She stepped over and drew me in for a hug, giving me a kiss near the temple. “What did you have planned for your rest days? I’m sure you hate sitting idle.”
[Probably go see either Wren or Belle and start fixing them.]
“Yeah? Well, as long as you remember who holds the spoon in this relationship, then I trust whatever you decide.” She ran her fingers through the back of my hair. “I’m going to get ready for bed, you coming up for snuggles?”
[I’ll be up in a minute. Just want to have a little more dour introspection before you smother me with affection.]
“As long as it’s not about… we kinda fucked around and found out yesterday.”
[This morning as well.]
She exhaled. “I’m being serious. You pushed me into losing control and I almost killed you. We’re better for it, but I haven’t just let all the guilt go yet.”
[It will take time. We all put ourselves at risk for the gamble that the status quo would change. It did, but it could have easily have gone a lot worse. The best thing we can do is appreciate what we have rather than dwell on the what-ifs.]
“Eloquent motherfucker. How is it the mass murderer among us is the most well-adjusted?”
[I wouldn’t go that far. I guess I’m just built-]
“Different, yeah, you keep saying that. Terrible catchphrase, the League will throw cold water on it. Don’t be long, alright?”
I nodded as she reluctantly withdrew herself from me and worked her way to the bedroom. Our bedroom, apparently. Still wasn’t sure how I’d wrangled that. Scouring the kill-room of all my prior misery this afternoon had been somewhat cathartic. But also… uncomfortable.
For I now lived in the daylight.
Shadows long discarded. Didn’t need them. Pitied them now, in a way. How I’d eked out a meagre existence between them, doing what I was told. Even then, I was winning - or at least rising against the odds.
Retrieved a fresh canister for the night from the freezer.
Perhaps the dour thoughts could have a rest for now. Roxy was waiting for me, after all - and what potential glum thoughts would be more important that being close to her warmth? While the seas of our adventure were calm, I should enjoy the peace.
Empty canister in the trash and I stepped over to the doorway, flicking the kitchen light off.
For a moment, the dark washed over my gun-arm and made it seem invisible. Like it wasn’t there anymore. I held my breath as vertigo washed over me.
Head swam as I turned back around to face the darkened room. Silhouetted figures loomed in the shadows.
Nine of them, because I was one of ten.
Left hand gripped at my right shoulder, the limb missing. Panic and faux pain. The humming of unknown voices came from the others ahead of me. Vibrating silently through my imagination.
Betrayal? Or was I the betrayer? Couldn't make sense of it, like someone had turned the reverb up to max to blow my eardrums out.
As my lungs started to scream for fresh air, the shadows grew taller. Stretched out vertically. The weapons they held wavering as if they were turning on me. Turning on me.
I gasped.
Took deep breaths as my wet eyes regarded the empty room. Gun-arm raised up, then lowered again. Still there.
I straighten myself up as my heartbeat slowed. It turned out that living a life of brightness just made the shadows darker, rather than scour them away. Something my gloomy past was quick to remind me. My eyes went slowly across the room, before the lobby and stairs, straining to pick out anything untoward in the completely normal house.
Yeah, those offered snuggles sounded pretty good right now.