My life was full of mysteries. Staring at the sink while Clara retrieved the evidence bag, I found myself wondering how this house that had been air-dropped into position had running water or a basement. It wasn’t a thread I was keen on tugging on, just in case it unraveled a core part of my existence and this odd facade I was living turned out to be just that. A bad dream.
Or a rather good dream, depending on who had their sights on me at the time.
The techie stepped back into the house and I followed her into the lounge where we had agreed to go over the… odd weapon. Clear bag that had the few personal items we had taken off of the would-be assassin that had appeared. A brief glance at them hadn’t turned up anything of note - after all, if they were an Agent sent by Boss then they wouldn’t be carrying anything more than the minimum necessary to kill me.
Clara sat down on the couch beside me and leaned forward to place the bag on the coffee table. “You mentioned that you knew he wasn’t a World Government agent based on a few factors. One of which was the pistol wasn’t their standard issue.”
I nodded slowly as she removed the firearm from the bag. Was probably a bad idea to do this inside the house, but it had started now and I was too hesitant to rock the boat until I knew exactly what the supposed issue with the gun was.
[Yes, although I don’t know why I knew that. I couldn’t even tell you what the standard issue pistol is.]
“You just knew it wasn’t this, Gunquake?” Clara held it up.
[Correct.]
She placed it down on her lap and put a finger to the side of her temple. Her right eye flickered from green to a neutral white and increased in luminosity to illuminate the weapon.
[Somehow I am surprised you are able to do that.]
“Oh?” She didn’t move her head, so as to not blind me. “They wouldn’t be A-Grade cybernetics without a good deal of versatility. Different colors, brightness levels, even some minor magnification. Makes them perfect for the finer detail work.”
[Green is your favorite color, though?]
“Rockslide said I looked cute with green lights, back when I first received them and was insecure.” Her finger tapped on the edge of the weapon. “Let’s focus on the task now, Gunquake.”
I nodded and allowed her to continue.
“First thing I noticed was the serial. It is not uncommon for the number to have been scratched off, especially for those in the line of work that involves murder.” Her finger moved across part of the gun just beneath the slide. “However, somebody has attempted to engrave their own serial number in.”
My eyes narrowed as I looked at the rough surface her finger rolled along. The hazy metal scuffed up from removing the original serial had another sequence of numbers scratched in. Amateur and shoddy work.
[How strange. Are we able to trace this new number?]
“To a degree. It is the type of number that is designated to World Government firearms.”
I furrowed my brow. That was enough of an oddity that it had me feeling itchy.
[A gun that has been made to look like a Gov weapon, but only by serial, and it doesn’t even look genuine?]
“Boggles the mind, doesn’t it, Gunquake? First thoughts?”
The idea of putting a fake serial number on a gun was one thing, but to specifically make it point to… whose eyes was it truly for? Any real World Government official would clock that it wasn’t correct even if the number replacement had been flawless. Even the city police wouldn’t be fooled by the terrible attempt. So… it was meant to be found this way.
[A normal weapon with the thinnest veneers of being a part of the World Gov. I believe it’s meant to represent something else. Some other significance that I am yet to understand.]
“It may well be.” She turned the weapon to point away from her, tilting the number at a right angle. “Second thing, Gunquake, is the scales on the grip.”
I leaned a little closer. They had been damaged, the gridwork of interlocked diamonds scratched and…
[That is a map.]
Clara tapped the side of her head to reset her right eye back to the usual green. Before she focused back on me, I was up off the couch.
Boots took me into the lobby and then out of the front, a good dozen feet across the lawn, before I stopped and glared over towards my house. As if the alleged assassin would be standing back there with a coy grin on his face, now that I had picked up on the clue.
The techie followed me out, the weapon now back in the bag.
“What is it, Gunquake? You could read it?”
[Hmm? Yes, almost. There is a base familiarity from deep in my mind. Although, I will need to study it to understand fully where it is pointing to.]
She put a hand up over her eyes to peer out at the city as I was. “Didn’t have a treasure hunt on the cards for today, Gunquake. What do you think is buried at the X?”
[Nothing good.]
I took a deep breath as Clara went to place the evidence back away. She would have made a scan of the map, I was sure. But what did it mean? I had a feeling, but could barely stomach thinking it, let alone speaking it out loud.
Someone was sending me a message.
Normally, I would dismiss such a notion as being a little too egotistical. Could be the felled Agent;s own stash of something - nothing to do with me at all. The only reason why I was tying this circumstance to my own fate was the nature in which the map had been drawn out.
In the same way that the handful of callsigns Roxy had been able to memorise was a cold knife into my subconscious memories, so too were the directions to… somewhere. What would I find there? Death? Answers? Something worse than either?
The ache in the back of my head was trying to tell me this was Boss’s doing.
Still didn’t understand his motivations, so I was cautious about anything he was trying to lead me to. If he wanted to kill me off, then he would have sent a better assassin. Was he sour that I was no longer doing his dirty work? He could just be waiting for me to get settled in as a hero with all these new friends before pulling the rug out from under me and kicking me while I was down. Third option was that I was doing exactly what he wanted, and he intended to help me along this path.
For some reason, that was the least palatable option.
That I had been used as nothing but a tool to kill off criminals for money only so that he could send me away to have a happy ending once I grew too big for the box he was keen to keep me in…
I sighed and shook out my head. One problem at a time.
Clara stepped back out of the workshop and put her hands on her hips. “Well, Gunquake. Now that I’ve introduced further intrigue to your complicated life, what do you want to do with me while Rockslide is still distracted?”
[You want to sit and brainstorm more reprehensible ammunition types that would get us arrested if we were caught using them?]
She gasped. “Like an arrow through my heart, Gunquake. Best be careful, otherwise you’ll give me further validation to off Rockslide early so I can steal you.” The techie took another couple of steps before stopping and looking at the house. “If she is listening, however, that is clearly a joke.”
[Is it not a joke even if she wasn’t listening?]
“Who knows anymore?” She sighed and went over to the deckchair. “I need to find a slightly more guilt-free way of comforting myself.”
[Has Roxy mentioned she isn’t a fan?]
“Far from it, Gunquake. We could probably get away with a lot before she stepped in, but it’s not a long-term solution. One day you both might be off somewhere raising children and I’ll be… well, not in the position to cradle your arm whenever I required it.”
She pulled a face and looked down at the grass. Although she didn’t seem to seek romance or love, there was still a base need for companionship. If even I could find the sort of relationship I needed in life, I didn’t doubt she would be able to - but it clearly seemed like a sore spot for her at present.
[That is a lot of assumptions you’re jumping to, Clara. Plus, I’m not sure if I can even… procreate, even if I wished to.]
“Oh?” Her eyes came back up to me. “Did you want me to check? Uh, medically, I mean. With scientific tests.”
[Although I appreciate the clarification, no - not at this stage. Let’s talk about ammunition instead. For my gun. Shotgun.]
We maintained neutral eye contact for a brief few seconds before she smiled.
It would have been nice if I could promise her that things could always be this way. That I’d have my courtship with Roxy and the platonic care for the techie for as long as they both needed me - or for however long I lived. Life didn’t work that way, and I’m sure she knew that as well, even if I tried to reassure her that we could eat our cake and have it too.
Sometimes the smile was enough.
We discussed various things that we could use the V-Force propulsion drive to fire. Everything from hotdogs to rods of radioactive material. Plenty of ideas that wouldn’t work at all, and even more than would get us on certain lists with the World Government - if the League didn’t arrest us first. Time rolled around as the techie talked animatedly, a near constant stream of unending thoughts about how else I could maim and debilitate all who opposed me.
“If we could imbue the coin stack with electromagnetism, then it would also act as a tazer field, perhaps. Not just a cloud of sharpened discs.” Her brow furrowed as she imagined how she could achieve this.
[More importantly, as most things will die to any solid matter we stick in my shotgun, how about how to deal with heroes?]
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Heroes, Gunquake?” Clara tilted her head.
[Villains, then. People with superpowers.]
She nodded slowly. A slip of my non-existent tongue, but she already knew what I used to be. I wasn’t gearing up to kill my soon-to-be colleagues, however… it would be amateur to not have answers to any potential ability that might stand against me.
“Most powered individuals would struggle against repeated Foam shots. Once you had them pinned or restrained, then I’m sure you could figure out the rest.” Clara bit her lip and wrinkled up her nose in thought. “To get to that stage, however, you would need additional defenses more than offensive solutions, Gunquake.”
[A way to nullify or resist their strengths to give me the opportunity to pin them?]
“Correct.”
[Do you have an issue if the first powers we seek to develop counters for are the ones our super group has?]
Her eyebrows raised, and her eyes looked off to the side in thought. Eventually, she shook her head and gave me a wry smile. “Contingencies are important, Gunquake. While others might find it suspicious, I trust you completely.”
I held out my left hand.
[To symbiosis, then.]
She grasped it, and we shook. “Symbiosis,” she agreed, with a smile.
“Aha, knew I couldn’t leave you both alone for too long.” Roxy stepped out of the house, glistening with either sweat or water she had used to cool off. “Hasn’t been an hour and you’re already holding hands.”
The smile on her face made it clear she wasn’t being serious. If I didn’t know any better, then she had left us to our own devices with the assumption that I would cheer up the techie - which I had.
“It’s been almost two hours, Rockslide.” Clara rolled her eyes and relinquished from our shake. “We were just discussing ways in which to kill you.”
“I see.” The super stopped over by our deckchairs, giving the horizon a brief look before raising an eyebrow to us. “Well, Dubs already knows my weak points to land critical hits, so…”
“Ugh. It is remarkably less amusing when you do it.” The techie sunk into her chair.
[Even worse, I’m afraid we have stumbled into more mystery.]
Roxy scowled at me. “Fuck off. As if you aren’t enough of an enigma already. What is it now?”
[It is possible I have been left a message, at an undisclosed location.]
“A treasure hunt,” Clara confirmed. “Although it might also just be an assassin’s stash of dirty mags, for all we know.”
“Typical.” The super shook her head. “I’m sure you’ll not be disappointed if that was the case, gremlin. Alright, I’m in - can’t let you two have all the fun.”
[I’m not sure ‘fun’ encompasses the process. There is likely to be an element of danger to retrieving the information, and I don’t feel adept in just casual clothing.]
“Public Defender order might not be here till dusk.” Clara tilted her head. “Assuming you are physically up for it. Lift up your shirt, Gunquake.”
With a shrug, I stood and did as the doctor ordered. Using my left hand, I pulled the t-shirt up and over my arm, but didn’t commit to removing it fully. The techie also stood up and stepped a little closer. Her brow furrowed as she ran a finger down the long scar down my torso, as I ignored the narrowed eyes from the super.
Clara then placed her open hand on the darkened hand-print scar on my chest, her own palm much too small and slender to fit properly. “Reminds me of a bio-security scanner,” she mused.
[Would be less amusing if it caused my new metallic chest to burst open.]
“Hmm?” She looked up at me and withdrew her hand. “Oh, it does have that capacity.”
Roxy huffed off at the side, her arms crossed. “So you’re saying you have a kill-switch for Dubs now?”
“I’m also the least likely person in the world to active it with malicious intent.” The techie stuck her tongue out at the super. “It is solely for if we have to perform emergency organ surgery, or if you play a little too rough and buckle his rib cage.”
“Oh, speaking of that.” The super turned to me and clicked her fingers. “Did you wanna blast me out here, Dubs?”
[Looking to get hot?]
“Practically dripping, if possible.”
“Gross.” Clara scowled at us both. “I’ll go get your drum-mag, Gunquake. Nerve shot only?”
Roxy grinned. “Please. Not so nice when the tables turn, is it?”
The techie continued to grumble as she went over the small side of the workshop, where I supposed they put all my magazines and offensive weaponry. Felt strange not really being armed as of late. Not that I couldn’t scoop up whatever was closest to fill in my barrel - even loose gravel could…
I stopped that train of thought as Roxy stepped up in front of me and helped pull my shirt back down. There was still fire in her eyes, as if the blazing inferno was waiting and eager to burst out.
She gave me a soft smile as her hands held my waist. “I realize it’s putting a lot of pressure on you to be the one who helps me with this, so I won’t hold it against you if you tap out. The League does have people for this sort of thing.”
[You have put your trust in me, so I won’t let you down.]
“Thinking you can win everything will get you into trouble, Dubs.”
I put my hand up to the side of her face.
[A little too late for that, isn’t it?]
The super pulled me closer and rested her forehead on my shoulder. Although it was unlikely that the League work eventually assigned to me would be potentially fatal, with my past itching to resurface, it was only a matter of time before I was up against the odds once more. Roxy hated it, but understood the inevitability.
Clara stepped back out of the workshop, drum and a ten-mag in her hand, and a sour expression on her face. “Thought you might want something else in the selectloader, just in case you are successful and the tyrant is uncontrollable.”
Roxy moved back away. “Tyrant? That’s a new one.”
The techie pushed in the drum-mag for me and then palmed out a handful of loose shells to put into the mech on the side of my weapon. All the while having a narrowed glare at the super.
[The expanding water shells?]
“Correct, Gunquake. We don’t have much else that could deal with molten lava, but this might cool her off.”
Seemed like that was as good as we were going to get. Roxy went down near to the hollow shell of my kill-room and stretched her arms and shoulders out. I followed suit, standing a good twenty-five feet away from her.
[So what is your actual plan here, if I may ask?]
“I was just thinking…” She pulled a face. “If you shoot me and I feel like I’m injured, I might get angry like I did during our duel.”
[It wasn’t just the injury though, was it?]
“No. It was the insecurities about my lack of career progression and frustration over you not giving up and accepting my feelings for you.” The super put her hands on her hips.
I had a brief glance over to Clara, who was now sitting on the deckchair and looking invested in Roxy’s progress. Or perhaps just amused that I was about to shoot her sister. Somehow, she had also acquired a fire extinguisher, which lay on the grass by her feet.
[But you are now over those things, and aren’t likely to be enraged by them.]
“Yeah, I guess. I mean just based on-”
I didn’t let her finish, instead my shotgun blew the first Nerve shot into her left leg.
“Ah! Motherfucker. A warning would have been nice.” She scowled at me as the empty cartridge ejected out onto the warm gravel.
With a shrug, I tilted my head as the techie came walking over. In her hand, she had a covered shell. Turned it around while it was shielded from the super’s view so that I could see what was written on it. A suggestion that I found intriguing, and I gave her a nod of acceptance.
Clara walked around me to place the new shell in my open chamber. Slowly, as she maintained eye contact with Roxy.
“What are you planning now?” Her ire followed the techie as she returned to the deckchair. “Nothing that’s going to-”
I fired into her leg again.
“Asshole.” Her fists balled up, and she looked down at her leg - which appeared injured in her mind due to the psychoactive agents withing the Nerve shot, but hadn’t changed since the original shot.
[Bloodletter shell. Anti-coagulant properties, so I suppose you have until you bleed out to activate your power.]
Her burning eyes looked me all over, as if waiting for me to tell her that was just a joke. I stood statuesque and neutral, something that only increased her annoyance.
“Time is ticking.” Clara added.
[You are about to get very angry. But I don’t want your focus to be on myself or Clara. Even the pain and injury you must try to ignore. Your power is like a thread within your core, something you must find and take a firm hold of.]
“Like the ripcord of a chainsaw,” the techie once again assisted.
Roxy nodded slowly, despite her brow still being furrowed. “Understood. I have to search for the part of me the power belongs to and learn to-”
Reflex blew through me and I emptied seven shots of Nerve into her in quick succession, as if my weapon was full auto. Just as my brain cooled down and the last shell sprung from the open chamber, the super growled out in pained anger.
To me, it only looked as though she has some very minor cuts over her legs. Barely drew any blood. For Roxy, it probably looked as though the flesh had been blasted away. Judging by the look on her face, it was pretty dire.
She stumbled forward a couple of steps.
[Stand still.]
“Fuck you!” Her eyes were much wilder now, and she had started sweating. Knuckles white with how tight her hands were clasped.
[You are not ignoring me or the pain. I will make this much worse for you if you cannot concentrate.]
While part of her was trying to melt me with her angered glare, I did notice her body language shift slightly. Her brain thought that using her legs was near impossible, but she had to overcome that. She closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose.
Shotgun went back up, and I shot her in the right arm.
The super twitched and worked her jaw, but didn’t react I any other way. Often, to find out who you really were inside, you had to break down the walls that you were used to. Tear off the wallpaper to see the state of the structure underneath. It was no coincidence that most of my growth in this cybernetic existence followed the times I almost died. If Roxy needs to find that core part of her long dormant, I would rid her of anything but that.
Shot to her left arm, the chamber racked back and forth, and then I fired a second into her gut.
She convulsed again, her arms starting to shake, but she continued to keep her eyes closed. Tried to stabilize herself against the injuries and imagined unstoppable blood loss.
[If there is anyone you should be angry with, it is yourself.]
Another shot to her left arm, and it sagged slightly.
[So much potential and you settled for basic strength power. Don’t you owe it to yourself to reach the pinnacle of your ability? Do you not deserve this?]
Nerve shot to her legs, and then her right arm. Her whole body was shaking, her head lowered.
Sweat ran down the side of my head now. Would have smiled if I were capable of it - but the look of excited apprehension on Clara’s face would have to do.
Shot to the legs, and she hissed through clenched teeth. Almost buckled again, but remained standing.
[That is all I will do and say. While your blood runs dry, do not squander any more of your life.]
Lowered my weapon. Making her any more pained or numb wouldn’t help at this stage. Either she would pass out from the over-stimulation, or diminishing returns would have her brain better clued in to it only being a ruse. As a strength super, she had a lot higher resistance to the stuff compared to a normal person. It was enough to give her a false-barricade to guide the part of her seeking the answer.
A wave of warmth washed over me.
Selectloader pushed in the Water shot. Her arms started to glow red. Body stopped shaking so much. Her posture relaxed, and she slowly righted into a standing position.
Roxy opened her eyes, and they were orbs of pure roiling inferno. Briefly, I was stunned, completely lost within them - as if I were atop the edge of a volcano and looking straight down into it. A natural beauty, yet completely deadly and destructive.
Fists went up, and she bared her teeth, growling as the air around her super-heated and became wavy.
With a burst of radiance, her head lit up in flickering flame. The red glow around her hands brightened to an amber - then yellow as lava started to sweat from her closed fists.
Barely five long seconds passed before the super took a deep breath in and then exhaled loudly. The flame surrounding her head twisted and snuffed out, and the glowing lava cooled into dark rock, which promptly cracked to drop from her flexing hands.
Blinking away some confusion from her eyes, she then looked back up at me.
“I did it!”
Before I could reply, she had run across the hot ground and leaped into my grasp.
[You certainly did. An activation method that doesn’t involve pain or me annoying you?]
She nodded and gave me a squeeze before remembering not to crush my metal ribcage. “Think so. It’s still… baby steps? I figured knowing how to turn it off was smarter than pushing my ability to control it.”
[I wholeheartedly agree.]
After giving me a very warm kiss on the cheek, she then turned to scowl at the techie. “Give me the antidote now, witch.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “It was a blank shell to give you some extra pressure. I wouldn’t really cast such a hex on you, dear sister.”
“Well, it did help, I guess.” She shrugged and held up her arms. There was no visible damage from using her lava powers. Even her hands looked fine, other than being a little dusty. Her eyes were back to being rolling fire in the background, but there was no other evidence she had done the deed - aside from the residual heat radiating from her still.
[The more you practice, the more natural it will feel, and you’ll have more control over it.]
“Alright, Dubs. Thank you for your odd training methods, though.” She nudged me and grinned. “I could really do with some ice-cream. Shall we have a little picnic to celebrate?”
I nodded and watched her walk off back to the house, her mind made up before she had even asked. It seemed that activating those powers had also washed away the effects of the Nerve shot, which was interesting.
Before I followed them in, I took a look around at our surroundings. There was the taste of violence in the air. I could sense it. Knowing that there was a splinter of something from the past out there waiting for me to run my careless hand over…
Well, I would anyway, despite the threat of pain. Nothing important was given easily, and if someone had left a little cache or a clue to my prior life, it wouldn’t be as simple as just driving up and receiving it. But I had to have it. Get everything out in the open and truly know what led me to being the man I was today.
“Good news, Gunquake.” Clara called from the porch as she held the door open, waiting for me. “Your order is being delivered in the next hour.”
Perfect. A picnic wasn't something I could really participate in, but it looked as though my hunger would be satiated in short order.
[Get me a copy of that map. It’s time to plan our treasure hunt.]