It turned out that a picnic for us three wasn’t close to anything normal. Despite once again insisting that she had a normal diet, Roxy sat on the blanket she had retrieved from the house and placed on the grass for us, eating ice-cream. Clara, as usual, had a toast sandwich - but to celebrate the occasion had toasted the outer parts, leaving the center part normal bread. I put a new canister in my neck and… just sat.

Which was fine, because this was the most content I had possibly ever felt. Ever a constant reminder of what I once was, my small shack was left abandoned and stripped of all the important parts. Just sitting there alone, not invited to current proceedings. I’d taken a while to come out of my shell… but even my personality had started to stretch out its wings. No doubt in part due to Clara reconnecting my super soldier synapse cables.

I wasn’t foolish enough to believe I just need the grease and dirt rubbed away to bloom into quite the social butterfly I had become. This overt part of me had been clouded over and neutered by… well, the assumption was Boss. He rescued me from the brink of death when I had become of no value to my previous masters and fashioned me into a tool that he could use.

Still, the odd juxtaposition remained. Impressive custom cybernetic work, paired with a basic gas mask to cover the place my lower face had been. An unknown weapon type that may have come from an old war robot. If the components had matched the skill of my surgeon, then I’d be A-Rank worthy - I had no doubt about that.

So it was with some sour grapes that I was thankful at this second chance at life.

Despite my flaws and shortcomings, I had an attractive and strong girlfriend brimming to become a volcano and claim her own A-Rank. A mechanical gremlin that would do literally anything to improve my function and effectiveness, at the small cost of my personal privacy. I now had known contacts that had real names rather than ominous and vague titles, and gradual friendships.

Which is why whatever sat at the end of this treasure hunt had me on edge. Something that could threaten what I was building up.

Of course, it could be something completely unrelated to me - or even a boon to my current plans in life. I was just being a grouch because I felt like I had been sitting too idle and letting the unknowns in my life build up the courage ready to figuratively stab me.

Clara sat back down on the blanket and handed me a print-out of the map from the pistol grip. Roxy didn’t even bother trying to look over my shoulder to read it - and was instead lying down behind me with her eyes closed.

[Getting in a quick nap before the turmoil?]

“Nah.” She sighed, but remained as she was. “I’m just… seeing if that ripcord is still there. Don’t want to lose it again so soon.”

She hadn’t been keen to test out her powers just yet, which was slightly surprising given the joy and energy she had toward activating them. I imagined she was spacing it out, so that she maintained control. Last time she went all out, it took a building collapsing around us for her to reevaluate what she was doing - and since I still bore the scar of that fight, I was sure she didn’t want to repeat that mistake and injure me again. Or worse.

“I ran the map against some databases to see if there was some common key to it, but no dice, Gunquake.”

That was to be expected. I gave her a nod of thanks anyway, for at least attempting to save me some brainpower.

[Did you ever steal away a copy of the League’s database of heroes?]

“I have, yes. We just need to get a proper computer set up in the workshop. Command center in progress, Gunquake.”

Roxy shuffled. “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that,” she murmured.

[If you need any funds towards that, let me know.]

Clara bit her lip. “In relation to that, Gunquake. Now that I have accepted my position with Dr Jarl, they will require the first year’s deposit.”

[Just the first year? You can make the transfer then, I trust you.]

“As you wish.” She smiled and allowed me to focus on the map.

That wasn’t so bad - I had been anticipating that they’d need to take both years at once. If I pushed that spare million into a place I could spend it, then I was sure I could make it back in the time between now and when Clara would need to pay for the second year. Even if I had to knock over a few banks, I’d make sure of it.

Would need to talk to Roxy about the facial reconstruction after my mind was clearer.

I blinked my eyes as I adjusted the held page. Gray lines criss-crossed, but had been adjusted or worn off. There were small shapes made to represent either landmarks or perhaps signals, but it hadn’t quite clicked in my mind.

[Difficult without a reference to an actual map. This could be anywhere in the world.]

“I’ll get your goggles, Gunquake.” Clara hopped up to her feet and made her way over to the workshop.

Once I found a point of reference, then things might click a little better. While it could be anywhere, I had a suspicion that it was somewhere in the Goldarch area. Anything further afield and it wouldn’t be worth the effort - I had neither the time nor the stomach to travel long distance to any of the other nearby cities.

“Hey, Dubs?”

I turned my head back to look at the super, who now had her eyes open.

“I just wanted you to know, whatever turns up there... I’m with you all the way. Good or bad.”

[Thank you, Roxy.]

She smiled and pressed her foot up against my lower back, just so we had that physical contact. “Still can’t believe I came home and just stripped off in front of you. Wasn’t really like me.”

[You’ve certainly been less shy around me since our duel.]

“Part of it is probably because of what happened after the bath.” She wiggled an eyebrow at me. “But also I think it was the exhaustion from the new powers and our fight, and just the relief that… I would know if you really liked me.”

[There was ever doubt in your mind?]

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes before closing them once again. “I’ve been burned before. Not a story for today, but don’t forget you were a grumpy asshole at first. It’s hard to believe the guy who refused to even verbally communicate with me now… well, wakes up in the same bed as me.”

[For me, it is still hard to see how you looked past all that and found something worth your affection.]

“What did I tell you, Gunquake?” Clara stepped over from the workshop carrying my eyewear. “Rockslide admires actions over words. You repeatedly put yourself in harm’s way to protect others, against odds that no mere mortal should attempt, and still carry yourself with eloquence and compassion around weaklings like us.”

“I think the cow is complaining, hun. You’re milking it too hard.”

The techie smiled as she helped put on my goggles. “Well, I certainly appreciate how much of gentle giant Gunquake is.”

“Not always gentle,” Roxy murmured, her own coy smile presented.

I tuned their bickering out for a moment so that I could adjust to my lense again. There were a few notifications waiting my attention, and I took a deep breath before opening them.

First was confirmation from Public Defender that the courier was on the way. Wouldn’t be long until we saw the delivery van, if the timer was anything close to correct. Second message was Clara saying cheese. No further context. Last was Roy, mentioning that he was away for a couple of days with his parents, but wanted to hang out once he returned.

Swiped them all away, only mildly disappointed that Boss hadn’t sent anything. Also mildly glad for the fact. It was complicated.

Opened up a map of the city and tried to focus. Dropped it down from a satellite image down to a basic wireframe. Start from the League of Heroes building. For no other reason than things seemed to gel together like that. Nothing immediately sprang out at me. Right eye slowly panned across the different districts, while my left eye passively stared at the piece of paper.

I grunted.

“You have something, Gunquake?”

[Partially. It’s out in the wastelands.]

Roxy groaned. “I hope not too far out. League will throw a strop if they catch the three of us all suited up and dicking around way outside city limits. Me especially.”

“Have you ever considered picking out a vigilante outfit? Something you and Gunquake could have fun in. Black leather, straps, a mask to hide your identity?”

“Hard pass. I get sweaty enough in my usual outfit. There’s no way I’m wearing a gimp suit.” She nudged me with her foot again. “Dubs wouldn’t want that either, would you?”

[Correct. You’re already almost too hot to handle.]

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“Ha!” She beamed at the techie.

[Before you both distract me with any other impure thoughts, please allow me to focus on the treasure map.]

Having Roxy as a vigilante had been a thought at one point. The amount of danger and destruction we could get up to together was exciting in an unhealthy way. Best to let the League keep her current public persona in check. I did wonder how they would slot me into the super group being what I was… but I’d leave that for greater minds than mine to decide.

Breathed out slowly as I scrolled through the map, trying to line up the next point or landmark. There was something about the scale. Perhaps I had to zoom out a little more. Turned it by an angle, just a few degrees. Zoomed out a few percent. And… click. There it was.

Switched the lense off and turned my gaze back to the two women, who were glaring at each other. Didn’t really need to fill in the gap of what they had been talking about. Somehow, knowing where we had to go made it seem… I didn’t know. I was apprehensive about not knowing exactly what was ahead. If it involved violence or there was a potentially bad ending, then that would be almost comforting.

[I have the location.]

Their put-on sibling rivalry quickly melted away, both of them looking at me with intrigue. I looked back toward the city and saw the delivery van kicking up dust as it left the main road and hit the dirt of the outskirts. At this point, we might as well give Hal and Van Michaels our real address. We were bound to be easy enough to find for anyone interested enough.

I allowed myself a long sigh.

[About three hours from here in the wastes. Northwest. The map doesn’t show anything out there, but I’m expecting some resistance.]

“You think it’ll be safe to take Clara?” Roxy sat up and rubbed at the side of her head.

“With all due respect, sister, there is no reality in which I am not coming along for this adventure.” The techie crossed her arms.

While I was partially keen to agree with the super, I knew there would be no dissuading Clara from joining in. Plus, we’d need her van to get there. There were options out there that could increase her safety, we just didn’t have the resources. Cloaking tech or perhaps a roof mounted automaton. Shielding. Maybe I’d need to buy her a new vehicle soon enough. A tank.

[Only on the basis that if Clara gets even the slightest whiff of trouble, you are to go to her immediately, even to my detriment.]

Roxy rolled her eyes. “Dick move, but I accept. If you get Dubs killed because you’re too soft, gremlin, then you’re soon to follow.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have him all to myself in the afterlife.”

The super flipped her off. “I’m going to get ready, then. Let’s get this over and done with. Clara you can help Dubs get dressed.”

We watched as she sauntered off back into the house. Clara turned and pulled a face at the approaching van. “You know, Gunquake, I had hoped your awkward courtship with Rockslide would last a little longer. Seems as though you are proficient in more than just violence.”

[A super’s attitude is often shaped by the nature of their powers. Now that Roxy is even more of a dormant volcano, there is more of a calm to her default persona.]

“I’m not sure that is wholly the reason, but I admire the modesty.” She nudged me with her elbow. “I am no longer a threat to her at my current level of needling. To push further is to court danger, Gunquake.”

[I’m not sure that you should take it as an invitation to see what the limit of her allowances are.]

She gave me a brief pout, but she knew I was right. Fun and games had a point where the tension would break and one of us would get hurt. Probably me. We watched the van pull up just at the end of the road before it joined my yard, and then made our way over to sign for the package.

The driver was a middle-aged woman rather surprised to see the both of us, some slight nerves visible at the corners of her light blue eyes where she wasn’t sure if we were mutants or some manner of gang. With a nod of thanks and a wide parcel across my arms, she was thankful to turn around and head back to the city unharmed.

“As much as I find the man unpalatable, Gunquake, perhaps we should request Van Michaels transport all our goods for the near future. I feel I have second-hand perspiration from the amount of panic that poor worker had.”

[Agreed. I’ll make the necessary arrangements while we are traveling.]

“Super. Now let’s strip you down and get you into something more flattering?”

I wasn’t sure that I agreed with that statement - but then again, my outfit was designed to complement the whole theme and nature of my cybernetics. A plain t-shirt and shorts probably looked off with my dark metal and pale, scarred skin.

Flirting aside, I was glad to have Clara help me get into my gear. Every little buckle and strap, plate and holster, all needed putting together again and adjusting to my figure. Once everything was set I could manage by myself, but the first time was always the most awkward.

Roxy stepped out of the house while we were nearing the finishing touches, my trench-coat still laying on the deckchair as my torso was being dealt with. Now in her own super outfit, with a wide smile on her face.

“I almost forgot how good you looked in that stuff.” She stepped over to hold my coat up ready, her burning eyes undressing me even though it had taken me so much effort to get to this stage.

“How does that feel, Gunquake?” Clara stepped back and fanned her face. The effort required an exercise in and of itself in the warm sunlight of late morning.

I shuffled back and forth, flexing side to side. Moved up and down and stretched each arm back and forth.

[A little tighter on my right midsection strap, please.]

With a nod, she was back in, pulling on the buckle until it moved about an inch. She didn’t really have the strength to make an easy job of it, although her dexterity certainly helped with some of the more fiddly parts of the outfit assembly. That said, I wasn’t sure if I wanted Roxy to do it, just in case she went a little too far and crushed me.

[Thank you.]

I turned to the super and put my arms into my dark green trench-coat, gun-arm first as my left could bend a little easier to complete the task. And there it was, back into my new comfort zone.

“Come get your mags and such loaded up, Gunquake. There shouldn’t be much else we need to prepare.” Clara moved to the workshop while Roxy leaned forward to give me a kiss on the side of the face.

Given that we didn’t know exactly what to expect, we went with a full load-out. All the ten-mags I could carry, the spares to go in the van. Full set of grenades. Tool kit of miscellaneous things. Drum mag full of Nerve, just because it was the most plentiful of our ammunition stockpile, and did a good enough job against soft targets.

I paused and walked through to the larger side of the workshop.

“You want to take the pistol as a sidearm?” Clara asked from the door. “We still have the drop-leg holster from last time. Rockslide didn’t destroy that.”

[Hmm. Not so much. There’s just something else I wanted to check.]

Her curiosity piqued, she stepped into the workshop fully as I brought the evidence bag over to the workbench. Withdrew the pistol carefully and then ejected the magazine. It was full - that was expected, really.

[Ten bullets.]

Standard for this pistol was twelve, and the magazine would certainly fit that amount. Pushed the first bullet out onto the table. Second one clicked up, and looked different from the first.

“That’s a blank, Gunquake? Or something inert, at least.” Her eyes narrowed.

I cycled the next eight shots out of the mag and onto the smooth surface where they rolled about, before finding a place of rest against the deflated evidence bag.

Blank. Blank. Live. Blank. Live. Blank. Blank. Live.

[Of the ten, only four remain.]

“Gunquake? You’re looking a little out of sorts.” Her hand rested on my gun-arm, and I almost jerked away in response.

[Hmm? Oh. Apologies. I’m… not sure what happened there.]

“You mentioned you were one of ten. There were nine shadows in your episode last night.” Clara’s hand continued to hold me as her face tried to read my eyes behind my goggles. “I’m pulling at straws here, but you made it sound like this is telling you four of those ten are still alive.”

[Including me, I assume.]

I nodded and relaxed. Didn’t realize I was so tense. A long sigh exited my re-breather, and the techie moved away.

“Let us continue toward the light, Gunquake. Worry not about the shadows until they have sharper form.” She smiled and gestured toward the door.

Was that it? I followed her out to find Roxy leaning up against the van already. That kind of clue was something more overt than the serial or map, but was it as straightforward as it purported to be? I wondered which of the ten were still alive. Also, which one was I?

“Took you long enough?” Roxy narrowed her eyes. “Not oiling up his barrel behind my back, I hope.”

“Gross, on two counts, sister.” Clara moved past to go around to the driver’s side. “Gunquake’s shotgun requires a special synthetic buffering lubricant that is no mere ‘oil’.”

Doors opened, and we entered the van. I took my usual position in the back, while Roxy sat on the passenger side. Doors closed.

“And what was the other reason?” the super asked, her eyes still narrowed.

“The insinuation that I would do it in secret, when you know full well I’d do anything like that in front of your face.”

Roxy maintained the glare as the vehicle started up. “Not sure whether I respect that or not.”

I was more focused on what we might find at the end of this journey. Three hours was a long time to dig around in the back of my mind for any potential reason that this could be something terrible. I’d feel more relieved to find out it was just a trap, rather than have to come to terms with unlocking the unknown.

A squad of ten people. Super soldiers trained to combat people with super powers. Believable to a degree. There would be some need to control them if they weren’t eager to kowtow to the League. But then something had happened and some of us had died.

Was it a betrayal? With three others potentially alive - were they just as unlucky as me and were picked up by Boss or some other similar entity? Now living similar lives? Or were they alive because they had orchestrated the downfall of the rest of us?

How terrible the unknown was.

“You alright back there, Dubs? You’ve been quiet.”

I unearthed myself from my thoughts, not realizing we had been driving for a little while already. Perhaps best to distract myself from the present.

[Have either of you ever met one of the S-Rank heroes?]

“I met Angel when she was still A-Rank,” Clara said. “Although this was before they gave me my eyes, and she didn’t stick around for long.”

“Few months ago I went to a conference for strength-based heroes,” Roxy added. “Red Rock was there, and he was very… loud.”

[Does he constantly shout?]

“Even his passive voice is shouting, when he actually shouts it can rupture eardrums. I’ve heard they had to put some tech on him to stop that from happening.”

“Much to the chagrin of the cybernetics corporations,” Clara said, rolling her eyes.

[How about Silhouette?]

They both shook their heads.

[Do they even exist?]

Roxy shrugged and turned to look at me. “An odd question. Why would you think they didn’t?”

[Hmm. Just professional curiosity, I suppose. I was once told I had an aura that disabled cameras and security systems.]

Her face wrinkled up. “What, your smell?”

I sighed, and she grinned, turning back to look out at the amber glow of the wastelands we trundled through.

While I didn’t currently think Silhouette had any relation to me or my past, there was something that irked me about having an invisible hero. Perhaps once Clara got the database up and running, I could do a little more research. I needed to know about all of the A-Rank and above heroes if that was our arena.

Be prepared to kill any of them if necessary… it was my compulsion.

Chamber clacked back and forth, and I raised my gun-arm up to observe it. I would have had a normal hand at some point. Something to hold… an assault rifle, maybe? Strange that a shotgun felt like more my style. Curious bubbles rose and popped in my head.

Perhaps there was a valid reason I had been assigned this arm.

I added finding out where it came from to my list of mysteries to solve. Part of me starting to believe that nothing had been done randomly or by chance. Even my face. Which was… hmm.

[Clara, when you did surgery on my kill-switch, would you say everything in there was rather cleanly done?]

“Indeed, Gunquake. The individual who did the work was highly trained and experienced.”

[Do you believe the cybernetic replacement was necessary?]

Her green eyes went up to the rearview mirror to frown at me. “I’m not sure what you are asking?”

[For my lower face and neck to be replaced, I must have been damaged extensively. However, I have no scarring around the edges of the parts installed to signal a large wound.]

“Oh. You are suggesting that they must have extended past the original area of your injuries, not just replaced the damaged parts.” She tilted her head from side to side. “Potentially, and not too suspicious given that your neck and throat are very important, and it may have been necessary to overreach to ensure your long-term safety.”

Roxy turned around, her face wrinkled up. “But what Dubs is also saying is that they might have just taken his face for another reason.”

[So nobody would recognize me.]

We mulled this over in awkward silence as the van rocked back and forth on the rough terrain toward our destination.

I had a feeling that this would be a very long day.