I sat in the garden, the clouds briefly parting to offer me some illumination. Not quite enough, as my brow remained furrowed, the key in my hand to… who knew what? I rotated it between my fingers, as if I could catch some hidden message or method to the wear and tear around the metal parts. It was a key, basic enough that it could be to anything and anywhere in the city.

Roxy was indoors, in some minor huff, because I didn’t immediately accept the contract from Wren. The fact that it was ready to go not so long after we had left the office meant that either the elf had planned it in advance, or the League had approached her with the idea. I leaned toward the latter option.

So then it became a question of why they were pushing so hard for me to succeed.

The original scheme of using Roxy to pry information about Boss out of me seemed to have fallen to the wayside. I wondered if Boss was even alive, or anywhere near Goldarch at this point. In watching me in action, the League had clearly decided I served more use than being a sponge that could be squeezed for data.

They’d given me plenty of allowances, knowing my past - perhaps more than I remembered. If they knew I was a super killer and were pushing me to succeed, then they could just be utilizing those skills to get rid of any problem villains. At least, that was a generous take on it. With how powerful the S-Ranks should be, it didn’t seem efficient to gamble on such a fragile unknown like me. Unless they wanted me to kill a…

I turned my head as Roxy left the house. Damage healed up enough now that she could cross her arms. “Alright,” she announced. “I’m done being an asshole for now.” Her slight scowl determined that was mostly true. She came and sat beside me on the deckchair, and wrinkled up her nose at the key.

[We aren’t supposed to seek out the lock for this. It will turn up, in time, so I will keep this on me.]

“You think so? I guess we can’t exactly check every lock in the city.” She sighed and looked out at Goldarch. “Deliveries are coming soon.”

[There are enough problems in our lives without constantly worrying about skeletons hidden away.]

My eyes went over to the covered square where the coffin still lay. We should probably do something with my arm, but I wasn’t sure what. It was already buried, after all. Maybe put it somewhere hidden. We should order… a vault?

[The deal is good. Signing it is just… erasing some of that freedom that I’ve been working to grow.]

Roxy turned to me, some of the grumpiness easing away from her expression. “Everyone’s beholden to someone, Dubs.”

I grunted. Perhaps I was being too idealistic again. Seemed to be in my nature, like a caged bird yearning for the outside, even if I’d die from it.

[Beholden? Which one of us was the wordsmith again?]

“Go fuck yourself.” She smiled and leaned against me. “The contract works out to be the same as an A-Rank salary, plus bonuses, and you know Wren will try to push the envelope for what she can do for us.”

I nodded. It was an interesting arrangement. I’d be removing myself from the usual League salary stipulations and growth package. Even if I ended up C-Rank, I’d still get the same amount - making the monetary benefits almost worth accepting on the spot. Like Roxy had said previously, I’d need to spend any grants toward gear and tech only, which reduced my actual take-home pay.

Although it didn’t include education, it also had a generous sum for Clara, as my sidekick. There was a lot of legal jargon over patents and the rights to new things the techie designed - Wren had certainly been up front about it not being entirely benevolent. We would be an asset to her corporation just as much—if not more—than we were to the League.

All it needed was both our signatures, and it’d be official. I’d still need to wait until League made me an actual superhero to get any of the benefits… but it put any modest tech and gear purchase within reach.

[If the team goes up in Rank, will we have to move?]

“No, it’s unlikely.” She moved away from me to look me in the face. “Goldarch is like a circle, right? It’s split into five parts. We’re the designated B-Rank team for the southeast quarter, alongside the A-Rank team Mighty Sensations. If there’s a problem in our area that needs a team, it’ll be one of us two.”

[I see.]

“If there’s an issue in the direct south, then it’ll either go to us or the southwest team. Same for directly east. There's like an overlap. I know you can count, so the fifth area is city central. They have a B, A, and the S-Rank team.”

[How about if we become A-Rank, would we not need to replace the group we knock down to B-Rank?]

She shrugged. “It depends, but I doubt it. I’ve come to quite like it out here… almost reminds me of the farms back home.”

[I don’t think I’ve heard of Mighty Sensations before. Any intel?]

“Magic-girl group. Transformations and stuff.” Roxy wrinkled up her nose. “They aren’t the worst, but they keep to themselves unless we need to have a meeting. We kinda missed the last one so…”

I wondered if I could kill them - which was probably not the correct first thought I should have when introduced to new colleagues. Also, it was a question on capability rather than permission. Of course I wouldn’t be allowed. Internally, I rolled my eyes.

[Sounds like there’s more to this hero gig than punching bad guys in the face.]

“There’s actually a lot of socialization and bullshit.” She waved her hand as if she was getting rid of a bad smell. “Thankfully, most is optional, but you have that to look forward to. Or… maybe that would be your kind of thing these days.”

[Hmm. No. Although my charisma is a helpful tool at our disposal, I’m not particularly keen to become a butterfly.]

Beyond the scope of our team and the necessary individuals we needed to keep the wheels moving, I had no inclination to grow a social circle. Bard or not, I was still a born and raised killer. I assumed, anyway.

“Good. Well, I mean. You do what makes you happy, as long as that includes me.” Roxy smile and nudged me. “If you need more time for this contract shit, that’s fine. You know me, I have no patience. I respect that you’re taking the time to see all angles and make sure you’re not getting shafted. I’m just excited that things are happening, you know?”

[Roxy… I signed it while you were busy yapping.]

“Asshole.” She gave me a quick peck on the face before turning to look at the road. “Oh look, Van Michaels is on his way. I suddenly have to go do something in the house.”

I put my hand on her before she stood up.

[Whatever happens, I love you.]

Caught between making a joke about our delivery driver not being that bad, and an earnest emotional response, she just pulled a face. “Dork. I love you too.”

I sighed as she made her escape. Stood and put the key in my pocket as I walked down to the end of my lot, ready to meet Van Michaels and his truck. While the dot of his vehicle grew larger, I tried to imagine what we were actually getting today. It was something I left almost entirely to Clara these days.

About ten minutes ago, I had sent her a message to ask if she had any worries about the contract past her initial giddiness. She hadn’t replied yet, which I took as her being too busy with her work to respond. I wouldn’t send her my signed contract copy until we had a proper chat.

We had time. League hadn’t been clear on how long it would be before I was an actual hero, anyway. I looked up in my lense as a notification came in, but it wasn’t from Clara.

//Stacy: Hi GQ, hope you are well.

//Stacy: Just wanted to congratulate you on the results of your mission.

//Stacy: It’s a rarity for a first one to be exemplary, but I knew you had it in you.

//Stacy: Such a great start puts you in a position to push for a better Rank.

//Stacy: If you wish, I can ask the League to assign you something B-Rank worthy for your next trial.

//Stacy: Be warned it will have a higher level of danger.

I looked over at my shoulder at the house. What would the others say? Of course, I had already made up my mind. I needed to hit B-Rank for my own personal comfort. To be adjacent to my peers. If I was only C-Rank but then got enough gear from my sponsorship, I’d be at the mercy of the League on whether I increased my designation anytime soon.

Short answer was that I didn’t want to be dragging the team down.

//Gunquake: Thank you, Stacy. Always a pleasure to hear from you.

//Gunquake: Please put me forward for a B-Rank mission.

//Stacy: Will do, GQ. All the best.

Just as I closed the chat down, Van Michaels pulled up to the side. He stuck his head out of the window and grinned.

“Quite the load today, Mr Dubs. Is Rockslide around to help unload?”

[Unfortunately not. I appreciate Darla making the effort.]

He nodded, only looking slightly less upbeat, before he gave the van a pat. “She’ll complain later, but she likes our more regular trips out this way.”

I grunted and mostly tuned out the rest of his small talk. Our security system had picked up the vibrations of the vehicle approaching, the motion of it, the way it blocked the sunlight, warmth from the internal mechanisms—including the driver himself—as well as the output fumes and the increase in carbon dioxide as he breathed.

Although it was an overload of information, I wasn’t really eyeing it up thinking there was anything wrong. I just wanted to look for the signs. Exactly how the values changed based on what was happening. There was an elephant in the room that my discussion with Clara earlier shone a bright light upon.

We couldn’t detect magic.

I was almost certain now that was the reason I had been able to feel like Silhouette was present outside the hobgoblin factory. His cloaking wasn’t tech-based. Did that mean I had some magical ability? As a super soldier, I could see the use of being able to detect the stuff, even if I couldn’t cast spells of my own. In hunting down ‘supers’, some might just be magic users rather than having innate superpowers.

A troubling circular thought that kept my mind busy until I found myself waving Van Michaels off, my lot now with a handful of boxes cluttering it. Some of them were big.

I glanced over at where my arm was buried. How would I cast spells if I used to be able to? As I heard Roxy exit the house to come over to our bounty, I held my gun-arm out to the wastes.

Brow furrowed, I focused and tried to… make magic? After a couple of awkward seconds, my synapses decided to interpret my intention by spooling my V-Force drive up. I let it down before trying again—the same thing happening the second time.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Everything okay, Dubs? Looks like you’re fighting some personal demons there.”

[Hmm? Who's Damon?]

“I said ‘demon’.” Her brow furrowed. “What are you up to, dork?”

[Oh. Do you have any idea how V-Force works?]

Roxy shrugged. “Some kind of tech wizardry, I guess. Like…” Her eyebrows raised as she caught my train of thought. “That’s a jump, and something to ask Clara about.”

I put my left hand on the side of my shotgun. Closed my eyes. There was definitely a reason Boss had given me this arm rather than something more modern or modular. Clara had even mentioned it would have been more difficult to get this affixed to me compared to something more common.

But… it wasn’t speaking to me. Wasn’t sure what I was even waiting for or expecting. I sighed and turned to the super, who had her eyes off to the side in her STAR.

“Just checking the internet. V-Force shit is like… protected tech. Used in a bunch of stuff, but all I can find is that it’s energy based. Developed by someone in Third Wall to the north, and now owned by the future-tech company V-Enterprises. Hence the name, I guess.”

[What do they mostly deal with?]

“Cutting edge bullshit, as far as my potato brain understands.” She gave me a glum smile. “Nano-tech, bio engineering, energy manipulation, and… looks like the World Government gets first dibs for military or humanitarian purposes.”

It didn’t exactly dissuade me from thinking I had a magical shotgun. Or a conduit for my latent powers, which actually sounded less believable the more I thought about it. Clara had made my Quake shots with V-Force, and she disliked magic, so perhaps she could set me straight later.

[I clearly need something else to keep my mind busy.]

She put her hands on her hips. “Well, looks like we have lots of things to unpack. Or, I can think of something else…” One of her eyebrows raised as she tilted her head toward me.

----------------------------------------

I glared at the white tiles of the bathroom across from me. My shotgun-arm vibrated against the edge of the bath repeatedly as the rest of my body shivered.

The second worst thing about this ice bath was how cold it was. First worst thing being the complete lack of bubbles. Still, it had stopped half of my torso from blistering.

My eyes turned away from giving the opposite wall my ire to see the bathroom door slowly open. Roxy popped her head through, a sheepish grin on her face.

“I’m so sorry, Dubs. That’s never happened to me before.”

I nodded and turned back to look at the wall. Although I had no jaw to clench, I didn’t feel much like speaking when the rest of me was so tense.

She wormed her way into the room, now in a long t-shirt and black shorts. “It wasn’t you - I’ve just been stressed with things. Exhaustion maybe?” The super stepped a little closer. “Perhaps there’s a pill I could take that…”

[Roxy?]

“Yes, Dubs?”

[Shut the fuck up.]

I tilted my head toward her and sighed. She stuck her bottom lip out, but she could tell there was no anger in my request. Didn’t stop the guilt from painting her expression, and she sat on the side of the bath to regard my status.

“It didn’t cause any permanent damage to… you know?”

[Too early to tell. I may never play the lute again.]

I raised my left hand up to show how raw it looked.

Although she rolled her eyes, she still winced. “They always make jokes that I’ll crush my partners, but I bet you didn’t think you’d need to worry about being burned alive.”

[Correct.]

“Probably because I went too far with my training earlier… it’s like I left the poker in the fire for too long. The metal holds too much residual heat. Clara is going to flip when she comes home and sees you in this state.”

[I imagine she probably won’t see me, as I can’t wear compression shorts like this.]

“Yeah, true.” She pulled a face. “Like the only things you could wear would be… no nevermind.”

[What is it Roxy?]

“Forget I said anything, Dubs.” She edged away from me, trying to leave the room.

[Roxy…]

----------------------------------------

I threw another empty cardboard box into the pile, being careful to not scrape it against my sore torso. The chairs and table for the garden had been a welcome surprise, but now we were unpacking a swinging chair - something that had made the super giddy and distracted her from glancing at me non-stop. I turned to see her eyes were actually on me once more.

[This would go a lot quicker if you’d stop staring at my ass.]

Her already wide grin widened further. “It’s not my fault. You’re wearing a thong, Dubs. It barely contains you. It looks even more erotic than if you were fully naked.”

[Unless you’d prefer Clara to come home to me assembling furniture in the nude, then this is the best compromise until my skin could abide being clothed.]

Roxy snorted and shook her head. This was probably something I’d find amusing in retrospect, but at present, it was just uncomfortable. One of the super’s black thongs was the only thing that didn’t sit on the burned skin than ran from just beneath my navel up to my chest - due to the v-shape of it. It covered my modesty in the briefest sense, but I would rather look a fabulous fool than let the super have all the fun unpacking our new items.

The techie had gotten not only a large table and eight chairs, plus the chair swing, but a few garden lights that we could prop up around the area to illuminate things in the evening. Another package held new clothes for me - and Roxy stuck her bottom lip out now that I couldn’t try anything on. A few tech supplies, including a new vocalizer and necessary port and connectors. But the biggest box of them all was the canister fabricating machine.

When Roxy could stop giggling for five minutes, I helped guide her in carrying the large device in through the door and over to the designated place for it. Once it was in position, she turned to me and beamed.

“I probably shouldn’t laugh, considering now you look like you’re going to a bodybuilding competition. Kinda fucked of me to maim you and then get joy out of it.”

[Perhaps next time I won’t move and I’ll just fry atop you like a rasher of bacon.]

“Don’t. There won’t be a next time. I learn from my mistakes.” She stepped forward and brought my arm up gently to see how my hand was healing.

[Yet you’re dating another team member again.]

“Nice segue.” Her eyes narrowed at me. “Do you think our relationship will affect my leadership over the others?”

[I’ll let you know when I actually see it.]

The super’s mouth hung open for a second. “Are you… doing a bit?”

I wasn’t. My intention wasn’t to be an asshole, either. My brow furrowed, and I looked around the room and out of the window. Silence filled the space between us, before I turned back to her.

[No, sorry. Not sure why I got so agitated all of a sudden.]

She sighed and put her arms around my neck, moving in close but not touching my torso. “It’s because there were no bubbles, isn’t it?”

[Partially.]

“Well, these kinds of accidents happen. Was I a bitch to you after you almost knocked my teeth out with your gun the other day?”

[Kinda, yeah.]

“Exactly.” She smiled. “I don’t expect you to be perfect or kind all the time. You are going to be an asshole superhero soon, right? Our arguments just have to be… measured, due to the fact that I have a temper.”

[Clear communication will be important for us.]

Roxy nodded, her burning eyes looking into mine. “In saying that, I really think you should change into something else. They’re not really meant for the male form and you’re one awkward movement away from pinging them across the yard. Probably as soon as Clara arrives. Are you still sore?”

I moved away from her so that I could look down at myself. It looked as though the worst was around my stomach still, but the lower parts looked much better.

[As amusing as that sounds, I feel she has seen enough of me already. I should be able to change into some shorts now.]

Although her face was one of amused disappointment, she gave me a nod and let me go. I stopped at the doorway to turn back, catching her once again checking me out.

[I feel as though you owe me one for this.]

“Hey, getting your butt out was your decision. But, sure. Bubble bath later? And a continuation of our heavy petting without me turning into a grill? Only on one condition, though.”

[Name your price. I’ll pass if it’s anything lute-adjacent, however.]

She grinned. “You should be careful about making that a thing. No, I was going to ask if you’ve ever tried meditating?”

[Hmm. Not intentionally. Often after a contract I sort of just stared blankly at the wall for hours until I needed to sleep away the pain or go murder more people.]

Roxy maintained a blank expression for a few seconds. “That’s… pretty sad. I mean, compared to who you actually are, that sounds soul destroying. I was going to ask if you could try for me after you get changed?”

It didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. I gave her a nod and went to the house. A handful of minutes and I was back in the garden in some more respectable clothing. Late afternoon, heading towards evening already. I stopped at the porch as a notification came through.

//Clara: I’ve read through it twice.

//Clara: I doubt we could get a more beneficial contract if we wrote it ourselves.

//Clara: Every method of credit acquisition will have some downside.

//Clara: This one at least has the backing of two friendly groups.

//Gunquake: Understood. I’ll send over my signed copy, if you could get that sorted?

//Clara: Of course. I’m almost finished up here and I’ll do that and come home.

//Clara: I’m eager to get my hands on you

//Clara: r new tech that arrived today~

I shook my head and send her off the contract. Raised an eyebrow over to the side to see that in that short time, Roxy had managed to get the swing seat all set up. It was wide—no doubt enough to fit three people—and padded almost like a sofa. Sturdy, dark green legs held it up and allowed it to move back and forth. The super was already on it, absolute joy on her face.

“Had one of these back home on the farm. Reminds me of simpler times.” She tilted her head and stopped the gentle swinging. “Get your moderately more clothed ass over here and sit, while I move the table and chairs around fives times until I decide where exactly I want them.”

[As you wish.]

She stood up and held it in place as I sat down, as if I had no concept of a swing. It wasn’t quite as comfortable as the couch, but it was close. The super gave me a goofy grin as she walked away to move the chairs about, and I pushed myself to start a gentle rocking motion. Rather than stare out at the workshop, I closed my eyes. Took one long breath in before exhaling. Focusing on being calm and healing.

I was assuming that was her intent, anyway. Either that, or she had just put me on the time-out chair for being aggravated with her. At first, my thoughts bounced around, so many things vying for my attention. League. Sponsorship. Clara and tech upgrades. The key and drive Boss had left me. Roxy. Silhouette. And… then these quietened down.

After some unknown time, I fell into the same manner of trance as I would in my little shack.

Barely registering the movement of the swing or mutterings of the super unhappy with the table location. The fire of my love diminished, the joy of friendship all but erased, and the warmth of freedom and a lived life crumbled to dust.

All that was left was silence and peace. A cool feeling that felt like damp mud. A slight ache in my right arm, but that was fine. The inability to speak anymore, but with a closed mouth, I didn’t really need to. Nothing to say.

Even this scene started to fade away. Dark browns marred with splashes of crimson turned to gray. I ascended beyond all that I was and wanted to be. A state of pure calm and contentedness where I could heal. Mind, body, and soul.

I didn’t know how long I spent in the void once I had managed to reach it, but by the time I opened my eyes, it was dark. The wash of headlights came from the side as Clara’s van rolled up across the gravel.

“Interesting timing,” Roxy said, apparently now sitting beside me. “You weren’t just napping, right?”

[No, I don’t believe so.]

“Excellent.” She leaned forward and stopped the swing, prodding me in the chest as I turned to face her. “So that might explain this, then.”

I looked down to see the burns had basically cleared. No real soreness and even the skin discoloration had faded.

[Did you know that would happen?]

“You’re not the only one who can make lucky guesses, asshole.” She gave me a wink and put her hand on my leg. “The amount of injuries you get, there’s no way you would have survived on your own with just stims and crossed fingers. Especially without washing or changing clothes. Let me take another stab…” Roxy bit her bottom lip before continuing. “The first year or two, it took you a lot longer to recover than this last year?”

If I had a mouth to open and close, I would have done so. My mind cast itself back to those earlier days when… yes, gunshot wounds would take weeks rather than days to patch over. I was pretty sure I had a limp from a leg break for four months of the first year. It had all become such a blur and gradual change I hadn’t realized it.

[You know, for a meathead you’re pretty clever sometimes.]

Her eyes narrowed, but she smiled. “I’ll not even swear at you for that. I’m taking the high road. Although…” She turned to look at Clara, who had exited the van and started her way over to us with a wide smile on her face. “Hey gremlin, I just confirmed Dubs can cast magic.”

The techie paused and wavered, her expression souring. She then flipped us off and turned around to storm off into the workshop.

[Is the disgust at magic a bit, or…?]

“Best go ask her yourself.” She gave me a pat on the leg. “Here’s a t-shirt since you’re healed. I’m going to go make a hot cocoa, and come back to enjoy this swing more.”

I stood up after she gave me a quick kiss. Realized that the garden lights were now up and in full bloom. Five of them, like pale suns with metal hats on, sat on each corner of Roxy’s garden, with the last down beside the workshop. I pulled the t-shirt on as I walked over to the larger side of the building where Clara had entered.

[Knock-knock.]

The techie turned in the chair beside the scanning computer and wrinkled up her face at me. “Tell me it isn’t so, Gunquake? I would have so many fanfics to delete if you were secretly a magician.”

[There’s nothing confirmed. I am able to speed up my regeneration when I meditate, but that’s about it.]

“You got hurt today?”

I maintained eye contact with her. There was some likelihood that she had turned my monitor to alert her of emergencies only. That said, she was my personal doctor, so I should be able to tell her anything.

[Roxy accidentally burned me and I had to wear her underwear.]

Clara didn’t budge an inch, her bright green eyes just boring into me. “No further questions. I am too exhausted to engage with that either seriously or flirtatiously. Instead, let me inform you about the results of the metal fragment scan.”

[Please, go ahead.]

I leaned against a crate as she swiveled back around to jab at a few buttons that changed the displayed information on the screen.

“Interesting.” Her eyes narrowed, dimming the green light illuminating the machine. “It’s an odd and uncommon alloy. It’s not exactly… radioactive, but there’s an odd property to it.”

[Something that can hurt supers?]

Clara ran her tongue across her lips, hesitating for a moment.

“In a word, Gunquake; yes.”