Roxy scowled at me and shook her half-eaten hamburger. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Dubs.”

I shrugged, but the looks on the faces of the rest of the group told me perhaps I was indeed in the wrong. Apparently, killing off the competition wasn’t the done thing, even if we were going to slide toward being anti-heroes.

Ren nodded slowly. “Most supers are assholes, but they’re not… bad people. Most. Even the ones who are bad probably don’t deserve to be murdered still.”

[Understood. We’ll do this the hard way then.]

I tried to ignore the renewed glare of the strength super by lifting up the B-Rank team list again. The team in 9th place on the roster—just above us—was called Urban Guardians. They were the current Central Goldarch B-Ranks. Led by a telekinesis super called Tetris. Given that they were in the city center, I expected them to have a better standing.

According to Ren, their popularity was waning due to two of the members not being that exciting in the public eye. Fresh Groove, a dance-based avoidance hero, had been a meme for a while, but fans had grown tired of his shtick and moved on. Their durability super, Blue Bulwark, was a little too defensive—although very effective—and didn’t have the pizzazz to really drum up interest.

That news caused me to narrow my eyes at the gathered five of us - plus Clara. Were we marketable? It was something that I even hated to ask myself… yet I knew this needed to be done, and I’d approach it the same as any of my other contracts. To be the most effective team, we’d need to look like one. My desire to shape this group into a new squad wasn’t just for my own benefit. And I already had a theme in mind.

So far, all of them could fit it - aside from Belle. More information was required.

“I’m sure we’ll have a big sit down with Stacy,” Roy offered. “Once Dubs has gotten the stamp of approval.”

Ren rolled her eyes. “I can’t wait. I’m still her least favorite, somehow.”

Possibly something related to her wealth and our manager’s predilection for billionaire romance novels. I tuned the others out as they began telling stories about Stacy. Too much on my mind. The burgers had gone down well - I seemed to have a natural knack for cooking, similar to how I performed with the pancakes the other day. Some of my old life must have been spent cooking, although it didn’t feel as though I was drawing on prior knowledge exactly.

It was quite likely the League knew I had some magical ability. Would be foolish to assume their headquarters wasn’t kitted out with every type of scan or detecting ability they could get their hands on. They’d need it. There must be not only much stranger people out there than me, but much more dangerous as well. Until… I started getting my own way, at least.

The team in eighth place seemed to have a gothic theme. A little… well, cliche. That sort of thing did sell well. Seventh had a commando or mercenary theme and had a space vacant in their five. That could put them at a disadvantage. The team in sixth—the highest ranked B-Team—was a strange mix of cowboy and nautical tropes. Landlocked Lawbringers, they were called. Their Leader was possibly part robotic or something, I was sure Clara would know.

She had managed to eat half of her burger before tapping out. Nothing like toast. She had a sour face through the whole process and still persisted despite my assurances she needn’t do the deed. After giving up on my cooking, and much to the chagrin of Roxy, the techie seemed to find amusement in just eating rings of raw onion.

While the others discussed gossip over the A-Rank team assigned to our quadrant, I gestured for Roy to break away from the others. The speedster followed me as we went on a slow walk around the perimeter of our houses. He apologized for not being able to find out much information on what my squad must have been—apparently mercenary groups were a dime-a-dozen, especially if took into account the other nearby cities aside from Goldarch.

I explained to him what I had found out. His expression was first one of surprise, before it turned into concern. Although he hadn’t heard of a group using fantasy adventurer class names, the amount of power I had, in addition to my Advanced skill-set, gave him reason to believe I wasn’t a simple sell-sword. I held the fact I was all but sure I worked for the government to myself for now.

Some proof would be better than just my errant thoughts guiding that explanation.

We stopped by my newly acquired vehicle for a moment.

“Ignoring for a moment that I know this is from a gang,” he said, shooting me a brief scowl. “It’s not a terrible vehicle—especially for the outskirts. I know a guy with a body shop that owes me a favor if you’re looking for a repaint?”

[Please. Do they do upgrades as well?]

“Performance, maybe. Nothing high tech or hero-adjacent. You’d need to find a specialist or go through the League.” He rubbed at his short beard. “Probably the latter, so you don’t tread on any toes.”

I grunted.

[That seems to be a speciality of mine, actually. In fact, I was going to ask you for a favor.]

“Oh?” He grinned as we resumed our casual patrol. “As long as it doesn’t involve anything illegal, I’m sure I can do at least that.”

[I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.]

As I explained it to him, he wasn’t. Surprised, sure, but the grimace told me I might be pushing the limits of our brief friendship. After a few moments of thought, he gave me a shrug.

“You’re a crafty bastard, Dubs. Risky, though.”

[We both know that’s how I operate. What’s a little gamble for greater reward?]

He shook his head, but smiled. “Alright, asshole, you’re on. If this works out and I get reinstated, then I’ll owe you big time.”

I nodded as we returned to the garden area.

[Excellent. We need to spar again soon—Clara seems to believe I am improving.]

“Crazy. Do you ever rest?”

[Allegedly. I haven’t been seriously injured recently, so I’m getting itchy feet.]

Roy sighed. “I don’t know how Roxy puts up with you. Then again, it seems you’re good at winning over people.”

“Gunquake!”

Any response to his statement stopped in my brain before my vocalizer could activate, as I turned to see the techie run over from the workshop with a new canister freshly completed. We’d need to order some more at this rate.

Just before she reached me, Clara stumbled and tripped over the grass. Clearly the alcohol had done the whole group a disservice, as nobody stopped her before she fell to her knees and head-butted my gun-arm with a hollow clang of the barrel resounding out.

“Ow, fuck,” she complained, pulling a face up at me as she held her head. “You’re so hard, Gunquake.”

“Alright, gremlin.” Roxy appeared behind her, grabbing her by the back of her sweatshirt and lifting her up like a mother cat with a kitten. “Let’s get you inside, so I can fix that head of yours.”

Clara pouted and handed me over the canister before the super carried her off into the house.

While I could have admonished the speedster for not stepping in, or Belle for not casting a protective shield, I didn’t have the heart for it. We were rusty as a team and needed practice. Plus, we had been living today as if we weren’t heroes. Still, it was something I’d remember to browbeat them about further down the line.

“Roxy is positively glowing,” Ren said, taking my focus back to the present. “Seeing you together… you’re actually a cute couple.”

“Not that it should be surprising,” Belle added, on her second bottle of hard liquor. “Dubs is your classic bad boy with a heart of gold.”

My greatest super power seemed to be making people ignore the fact that I was a serial killer. Maybe they had a different view on death, given how far apart they were from a normal person. No, clearly I was just that impressive.

“Yeah,” Roy agreed. “So much better than-”

“Nope,” Belle interrupted. “We do not mention his name.”

The speedster looked confused. “Really? Oh, I get it.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Dubs is smart, though. I bet he could detective it out in an evening.”

“Don’t encourage him,” the elf said with a scowl. “Last thing we need it fingers pointed at us when supers start turning up dead.”

Maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but I wondered how far up the list I could get before I was stopped. Not far enough.

Roxy then stepped back out of the house, putting an end to the discussion over her ex and how much better I was for the super. It was difficult to really quantify it on my end. Although it was clear I had some prior experience with women, none of my emerging memories had hinted at a relationship of any kind. Roxy was all I knew, and I loved her.

“Clara is taking some painkillers and has an ice pack on,” she said. “She’ll be out soon enough.”

“It’s good to see you’re close with her again,” Belle said, leaning back in her chair. “She seems… close with Dubs, too. Do you guys have like a… throuple situation?”

“No,” Roxy immediately replied, before pulling a face. “It’s complicated?”

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

[Clara and I have a platonic bond. A necessity due to our working relationship, to have trust and symbiosis.]

“But it’s nothing physical,” the super added, waving her hand. “Other than like hugging and hand holding…” her expression changed to a grimace the longer she dug that hole.

Belle smiled. “You could have just said yes.”

Roxy rolled her eyes and gave me an exasperated shrug. “I need more beers. Have you told everyone about that time we fought that monster yet, Dubs?”

I shook my head and took the hint. Over the course of a couple of hours, I told them all about what I had gotten up to. We even went over some of my contract work against the villains I had killed. The pit fighting with Roy. A more detailed play-by-play of the hobgoblin forge mission. Clara rejoined us, with only a slight bruise to show from her misadventure, and her energy levels knocked down a couple of notches.

While the others gave me plenty of grimaces, looks of surprise, and concerned glances to each other as I went over some of my past exploits—Roxy was hanging on every word like my biggest fan. Totally impressed and proud of everything I had accomplished, even while I was describing some of the more macabre acts I had carried out.

She interjected to tell them about the casino job, where she had turned up to see the walls painted red, the mass of corpses I had made, and finally me standing there with my gun down the throat of the perp we both wanted to bag.

The tale received nods of understanding when she gushed over me standing up to her and killing the mob boss without question. Roxy had been pretty pissed at the time, but the others saw it as one of the reasons she had been drawn to me. Reckless and unafraid of her strength. The speedster acted sheepish when Belle included me defending the super when he had tried to goad me into a fight as another factor.

This lead to a segue into other times Roy had been an asshole, including one time he had almost screwed over one of their missions for turning up drunk. Apparently with his supersuit pants on backwards somehow. What I got out of most of their stories was that they each had been stuck in some manner of vice that was eroding at not only the team but their own careers.

Roy was self-destructive. Roxy was combative. Belle was uncomfortable to be around. Ren was distracted.

So those were the things I had sought to fix.

Of course, I had worked on myself as well. Previously, I was a liability to myself. Edging closer to death every contract. Willing to pay any cost for success. I still took risks, but now I had built myself up to thrive and survive. Even without the magic aura or synapse skills, my tactical knowledge and combat experience put me above most.

With time and money I could extend my life and career by years. Assuming I didn’t get unlucky.

As the group laughed over Belle making a quip at Roy’s expense, I wondered what would happen if I fought them.

Currently, Roxy was outside my capabilities—unless I had enough preparation time. I hadn’t seen Ren in action, nor Belle, to know what they were really capable of… but I wasn’t in a rush to make enemies of allies. Not today.

[Once I’m officiated, I’d like to get together for some team fight practice.]

My statement was a little disjointed from the current conversation, but given we were all a bit inebriated, it didn’t rustle any feathers.

And thankfully, they all agreed. Not only sparring, but in the future I’d probably try to convince them we should head out to the wastes and fight monsters and mutant groups. Cut our teeth to stay sharp. We had a really good mix of powers between us, but that meant nothing if we weren’t coordinated and well-practiced.

Grill back in action, I cooked up more food. A process made smoother with the beers draining through my canister. As much as I was a blunted tool, I was comfortable. Seconds seemed to melt away. I remembered to compliment Belle on the cake she had given me—a thought Roxy echoed—which the support super appreciated. Time was going fast now. In fact, the rest of the afternoon was quite the blur of talking, food, and drinks.

The pleasant daytime eventually rolled around to dusk, and the others stretched and yawned. We hadn’t anticipated the gathering to last further than the afternoon, but we had almost stepped on the toes of nightfall by the time our social batteries had hit their limit. A sure sign that this had been a success.

I was slightly surprised to receive hugs from the departing supers. Perhaps the alcohol had eased that process, but after a brief one from Ren, and one that was pulled in from a handshake from Roy, the hug from Belle was tighter than expected. As she withdrew, I realized it was because she had clipped something around my neck. A slim chain, with a small metal rectangle that now sat against my t-shirt. I couldn’t see what was on it, but she placed her hand over it and looked up at me, peering over her round sunglasses.

“I lied about not having s housewarming gift,” she said. “Keep this safe and it will do the same for you. I just wanted to make sure you were genuine, that’s all.”

[Thank you, Belle. I appreciate it.]

“You’re a good match for the team, and it's been nice being able to be myself for a change.” She smiled and looked over at Roxy, who was chatting and hugging the other two still. “Don’t fucking break her heart, otherwise she’ll literally kill us all.”

She gave me a pat on the arm and left to catch up to Ren. The elf had taken a sobering pill, only briefly flaunting that she’d only brought one for herself. Given that she had to pilot the helicopter—even if she assured me it was partially autonomous—I couldn’t fault her for wanting to cut off the warm buzz we each had on. Better than accidentally crashing, although I had enough wherewithal to raise my eyebrow at the speedster, who was intending on running back through the outskirts in the dark. In flip-flops.

I needed him to get home in one piece.

Clara stepped up beside me, clutching onto my gun for stability. “I also received a hug and a necklace from Belle.” She pulled a face, clearly unimpressed with the physical contact. “Today has been overwhelming for my senses.”

[You didn’t hide in the workshop, though. I’m proud.]

“Oh, stop. Despite my current appearance, I don’t need babying.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled at me.

[You’re a terrible liar, Clara.]

“Indeed. At least I haven’t persisted in calling you daddy.” Her brow furrowed as soon as she finished speaking. “Speaking of that… now would be a good time, while my inhibitions are lowered, to open up about my family.”

[We can detach the top of the grill and use it as a campfire once we are alone.]

“I’ll get another round of drinks in. I know exactly what we need.”

I gave the techie a nod as she skirted away to head to the house. There was a slight waver to her step that said she probably didn’t need the extra liquid confidence. Roxy appeared beside me without me noticing, her embrace a little stronger than she intended—both things signaling we were in the same boat as Clara.

As she softened her grip on me, the helicopter powered up. One last wave and they were off. Roy had decided to take the chopper with the two women, which was probably for the best. The sound of the rotating blades filled our ears as dust blew across us. I winced, and the helicopter went up into the air and started off toward the city.

“We fucking did it, Dubs.” Roxy pulled me close for a series of kisses, trying and failing to aim for some part of my face that wasn’t a cybernetic gas-mask.

[That went rather well.]

“It’s been years since we’ve all gelled like that. You’re a miracle worker.” She sighed and leaned her head on me as we watched the chopper disappear into the darkening night sky.

Part of me expected it to explode or suddenly crash. The day had been wonderful—almost too good for what I was used to. For it to end without sudden tragedy seemed offputting in a way. Perhaps I’d need to start becoming accustomed to this. This could become… a regular thing.

What a thought.

As Clara scooted herself from the house to the workshop, keeping the contents of the prepared drink unnecessarily secret in a way she probably thought was subtle, I set up the campfire a little way in front of the swing chair. Enough to warm us and give us something to stare at, without risking burning our feet. Roxy brought out a blanket, more for comfort than warmth, and as the techie emerged with a canister and two glasses, we settled onto the swinging chair.

“Golden Firebrand?” The super asked, holding the glass up. “You sneaky bitch. I didn’t think we had any of this left.”

“I’ve been saving it for years, sister. I think Gunquake has earned his place to share our special drink.”

I leaned to the side slightly so that the techie could insert the canister, the ice in her own glass clinking as she did so.

[Dare I ask?]

“It’s got some heat to it,” Roxy explained. “My volcano shit might explain why I have no issue with it now, and Clara’s lack of taste makes it no problem. One of the things we bonded over in our mistake-laden early years. It’s strong shit, but given that you won’t be tasting it either, you’re one of the crew in that regard.”

“Plus practically married to us both,” Clara added, sitting down and shuffling herself up next to my gun-arm.

“Easy, gremlin. No amount of sauce is going to let you weasel in more than you already are.”

The techie shrugged, and just gave me a coy smile.

Although I couldn’t taste it, I could definitely tell that the alcohol was stronger than whatever else I had been drinking throughout the day. It left me feeling warm and fuzzy, perfect for relaxing fire flickering in front of us. As the two women sipped at their drinks, we fell into a silence, just swinging gently and staring at the flames.

“It would come as no surprise to say that I was closest with my father,” Clara eventually said, softly. “A technician for the League. Always fiddling with gadgets and trying to get me involved with things here and there. Patient to a fault. His speciality was defensive force fields, but he only… had time to teach me basic electronics.”

She took a long drink as Roxy and I remained silent.

“My mother wasn’t as present in my life, but still had all the time and patience in the world for me. When they were younger and made the journey across the continent to come to Goldarch, she had caught some illness. Nothing fatal, but it often made her exhausted, and she’d spend a lot of time in bed. Most of my tinkering was done on the floor of their bedroom so she could watch me while she rested.”

Clara leaned her head to rest on my shoulder.

“The day they died was one of the rare days she was full of energy. We were all sat in a triangle in the lounge, full of smiles. Working on the finishing touches on some mechanisms that I had been putting together. A little dollhouse, with electronic doors and lighting. Mother helped decorate it while father prepared the wiring for me to solder. A vivid memory that remains with me, the last I have of them.”

She polished off the last of her drink, bringing the last of the half-melted ice cubes into her mouth to crunch them. “Then there was just flashes. White and red light, a ringing in my ears and my eyes were blown out of my head. They were gone.”

[I’m so sorry, Clara.]

The techie nodded, which did little but rub her face on my arm. “I try to honor them by being a better technician than they could have envisioned… and I am. It’s… something I have made some peace with, but still hold it close to my heart.”

[I appreciate you sharing it with me.]

“An inevitability, given what we are and will become.” She sighed deeply and then was silent.

I turned my head to see that her eyes were closed, the glass in her hand slowly sliding away from her grip. Roxy leaned forward to take it from her before it dropped. “Poor gremlin,” the super said softly. “She kept the Firebrand down, which is a first.”

With a smile, she snuggled up beside me, wrapping her arm around mine to hold my left hand.

[What happened with Red Dust? Did Angel eventually get him?]

“Pretty soon after. Arrested, and in containment last we checked. Surprisingly, Clara doesn’t hold a grudge enough to check. If… you ever came across him, though.”

[Dead.]

“Mmm. It’s kind of hot when you’re bad. He’s an A-Rank villain, though. Laser eyes, flight, and a decent amount of strength and shit.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “Not saying you couldn’t handle it.”

[I’m supposed to be abstaining from reckless violence.]

“We both know how long that will last. You promised not to die, though. I need you.” Roxy sighed. “I hope we can have days like this more often. It soothes my fucking soul.”

As much as I agreed, I said nothing in return. My own wave of exhaustion rolled through my mind, tired from a day of socialization and probably too much alcohol for someone who took it straight into their bloodstream. It was… bonding. A true squad forming. I was happy about it, enjoying living.

Roxy and I sat, slowly swinging, until the fire started to dwindle and die out. The silence was comforting. We didn’t need to say anything, but just enjoyed each other’s company. Somehow, we didn’t fall asleep, although I certainly got close.

Eventually, she gave my hand a squeeze. “We should get this dork into bed. She has work tomorrow. I could do with sleeping off this alcohol as well.”

[Agreed.]

She moved the blanket off and let go of me, circling around to pluck the techie off of me. Clara tried to keep a tight grasp, murmuring something in her sleep, before the super was able to pull her away.

I stood and wavered a little. My brain had gotten used to the rocking motion of the seat, and being on firm ground was a little awkward. A fantastic day, but I still felt a little out of sorts. I wasn’t about to fix my entire traumatic existence with one party, that was for sure.

Roxy carried the techie across the garden as I put the remnants of the fire out. She paused on the porch as I caught up, giving me a tired smile.

I stopped beside her and furrowed my brow. A chill ran its way up my spine.

[Roxy?]

“Yeah, Dubs?” Her eyebrow raised, and she leaned in close to me as if I was about to request a final outdoors smooch.

[I need you to throw me on top of the house, right now.]

My selectloader slowly inserted a metal ball into the chamber.