I circled around Roxy to be her shield for whatever was approaching. She had squirmed and tried to get up, but I had admonished her and told her to stay put.

“Idiot,” she murmured. “I’m almost bulletproof. You’re a walking disaster.”

Her words fell on deaf ears as I glared out, a figure coming into view over to the right, opposite to the city. After my lens zoomed in and I clocked who it was, my arm lowered and I turned to crouch down beside the super.

[Yet I would give my life to defend you. Even if it was your own careless decision that put you in this predicament.]

“Alright, ass.” Her brow furrowed over closed eyes. “I get it. I was dumb. It’s not someone dangerous though, right?”

I gave her a few seconds of silent tension before answering.

[It’s the mute hobgoblin. He looks like shit. Must have walked all this way. Perhaps I’ll feed him the ice-cream in front of you as punishment.]

“Dubs,” she whined. “That’s not fair. You can’t torture me.”

[You know, you’re really pretty when you’re at my mercy.]

The super pouted and wrinkled up her burned nose. “I’m… not sure how to take that.”

[We have company now, so I am unable to make any suggestions. Be right back.]

I walked across the garden to meet up with the hobgoblin still shuffling himself through the heated sand a way off from our place of safety. A slight limp to his gait. I remembered that I had broken his leg in the scuffle. He was still dressed in his overalls, and from his knees down to his boots was covered with red dust. Pale eyes above his tusks looked tired and stressed. Probably wondering if I’d just kill him now.

He stopped and gave me a low bow before waiting for a response. I gestured him forward with my hand.

[Greetings. I am glad you found me, although it can’t have been easy.]

The hobgoblin shook his head. The short tuft of hair like a flat mohawk was pasted to his skin with sweat. With a shaking hand, he lifted up a dirtied piece of paper. I took it and attempted to read the message.

[This is pretty illegible. You came to get a new voice, correct?]

He nodded eagerly.

[I will keep my word, but you will have to wait. Please come sit with us.]

His goat-like eyes turned to look past me at the lounging and rather crispy super. He was uncertain. It didn’t take anyone with my level of social finesse to see that. With little other option, he relented and followed me over. I grabbed one of the garden chairs once we met the grass, and brought it over to the deckchairs.

[He is here now. You will need to host our guest for a while.]

“Oh?” Roxy squirmed, but was unable to open her eyes. “Why? Where are you going?”

[I’m going to get some ice water and cook you both some lunch. Do you have any special dietary considerations, friend?]

The hob’ looked at me blankly for a couple of seconds before shaking his head.

I made the motions of walking, bringing my legs up and down - but I remained in place. Left hand came up, and I put my finger to where my lips would be. Confused, our guest nodded slowly.

“Ah,” Roxy began. “You know, Dubs was the silent type when I first met him, too. Gunquake, I mean. You know him as that. Uh… you must have walked far, huh?”

The hobgoblin gave the super a blank look.

“Shit. I can’t even see if you’re replying. Serves me right, I guess.” She exhaled through her nose. “Okay, let’s do… two taps for yes, three for no? You understand that?”

After glancing at me for approval, he then tapped twice.

“Sick! We can make this work.”

I snuck away, as quiet as I’d ever been, while the super asked our guest a few yes or no questions about his general well-being. The same general acceptance as when she had met me, although a little less annoying. Any disdain I had for her recklessness was smothered by the heavy blanket of my feelings for her. Even that ire was partly put on. It was a terrible decision, but I had made plenty of my own. I shouldn’t be a hypocrite.

Perhaps I was just itchy for some combat again. I’d solved the Snake issue in a way that benefited the team, even if it did lose us an illicit goods vendor. Drew out some concessions from the League so that we were on the same page. Found out a little more Bard lore. Now I had another work in progress with the hobgoblin. It wasn’t just because I saw a little of us in him that I’d made the offer to give him a voice.

The cooking was wholly charitable, however. While Roxy would have been content enough to have me spoon-feed her ice-cream, our guest deserved a little better. Especially for making the distance on foot. It gave me time to decompress. Boss had gone through extensive steps to leave breadcrumbs for me to follow. He wanted me to know the truth, just not all at once.

It was enough to know that I probably wasn’t going to be friendly with the World Government. The faux assassin and placement of the safe made some sense now, perhaps. I wasn’t sure if allying with the League was the way forward, but if those were the two sides then I’d be standing beside the one full of superheroes.

I hummed to myself as I cooked. It was more apparent that it was a connection to my past. The squad had enjoyed my meals, and I… had loved food. I stared at the bubbling pot for a moment, suddenly very somber. Knowing that I couldn’t taste or eat hadn’t been an issue in my hitman era. Now that my life was opened wide up, I had a bit of everything a man could enjoy—aside from food.

If this was an intentional decision by Boss, then I hated him a little more. Maybe picking up this hobby and being able to taste things would bring back my old life too quickly. I had heard somewhere that certain smells or other senses could tie themselves to memories. Even if for pragmatic reasons, I resented the cruelty of it.

Still, that didn’t stop me from completing the stew. Not something I had made in the last five years, but it still came to me as if I had a recipe book just off to the side. Nothing quite like throwing whatever vegetables and meat together and turning it into hot mush. Less about the finesse and more about soothing the soul of the tired hobgoblin.

Somehow I managed to carry two full bowls along with a pair of glasses of ice water out into the garden.

[Sorry I took so long.]

“It’s no problem, Dubs. Your cooking is always worth the wait.” Roxy turned her head toward me slightly, but she still remained blinded. “Our pal here is quite the character.”

[Is that so?]

I raised an eyebrow as I handed him a bowl and glass. He had seemed more relaxed as I walked over, but in seeing the food, he practically melted. It was tough out in the wastelands, and I pretended I didn’t see the shed tears. Instead, I handed the super hers, and she pouted at me again.

“Feed me, Dubs. And yeah, could you believe he is distantly related to the La’quant Dynasty?”

[I have no idea what that is.]

“Huh. Maybe that part of your brain is still locked away.” She opened her mouth expectantly for some stew chunks, but her need to continue the conversation had it moving again. “It’s taught pretty extensively, as one of the most important periods prior to technological advancement.”

[I… see.]

“C’mon, Dubs. I’m a dumbass and I know it. Down south by the coast, the La’quant Dynasty was a gathering of goblins, hobs’, orcs, and ogres. They had a big war with the Irongrip Kingdom. That’s why those of dwarven ancestry are few and far between these days, despite winning the battle.” She gave our guest a nod. “There’s like four main lineages a hob can come from, and the La’quant is the most uncommon.”

[You can trace that over two hundred years?]

My raised eyebrow just received a quick nod from the hobgoblin, as his focus was being spent almost entirely on not burning himself as he wolfed down the stew. No voice, but could eat and taste. I felt a little green.

[You got all that from yes or no questions?]

“What can I say?” Roxy grinned and peeked at me through barely opened eyes. “I’m very good at getting what I want from people.”

I rolled my eyes and brought up my chat window.

//Dubs: Remember when I had you get a spare vocalizer?

//Dubs: Guess who dropped in today.

//Clara: I hope you realize I’ve never done this before, Gunquake.

//Clara: It’s different when you’re my first.

//Clara: But the guilt if I harmed another…

//Dubs: No pressure. It was my promise, and you don’t have to facilitate.

//Clara: No. We are as one.

//Clara: It will be done, Gunquake, but I’m still home late if the patient can wait.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

//Dubs: I’ll keep him entertained. Thanks, Clara.

Hopefully she wouldn’t be too tired to do the deed tonight. I looked over at the hobgoblin, who had completely cleared the bowl—while the super had been waiting with mouth open for me to give her some. I forked some over, before looking back at our guest.

[The person who will be giving you the voice isn’t back until later. It would probably be beneficial for you to be clean for the procedure, so I will run you a bath. Here, Roxy.]

I placed the stew bowl in her hands, a grumpy expression on her wrinkly face.

[You know where your mouth is.]

While she murmured something under her breath, I led our guest up to the house. There was a secondary reason for this. I could spot the shape of vehicles coming from the city. Most likely the League with the requested safety features. Briefly, it amused me to think it might actually be something to kill us all of. A neat way of saving us from any future threats.

I had already planned to shoo them off as soon as they had delivered the parts. Clara could set it up—I trusted her a lot more than them. It went unspoken, but I knew the techie would want to dig through whatever we were given to look for any mechanism that might be feeding data back to the League. We wanted the dead zone to remain, even if the organization was letting us sleep easily.

The hobgoblin followed me closely, looking all out of sorts to be taken into our house. If he had grown up in the wastes, then that dorm they had taken over and converted into a forge might have been the closest thing to a comfortable home he’d ever known. Being alone and in the presence of two potentially dangerous strangers, it was no wonder he was nervous.

Up and into the bathroom, I started it up and gave him a decent amount of the bubble juice. I could share.

[I can wash your clothing as well, if you like. I’m not sure we’d have anything spare that would fit you.]

He nodded, glancing between the filling bath and me. I averted my gaze as he stripped down, placing himself into the water, and exhaling deeply. While he had looked roughed up before, now with a full stomach and a warm bath, he was ready to pass out. Content, even if completely drained. I hit the taps a little early, not wanting to fill it too high in case he fell asleep and drowned.

[Take as long as you need. There’s a blue robe on the door you can wear after, although I’m sure it’s too large.]

The hobgoblin gave me another nod, his eyes steaming up again. He made a sign across his chest, his finger circling his heart before making a fist.

[You are welcome.]

I left him to enjoy the clean and went back outside to deal with the super. While she was expected here, I wasn’t sure how the League goons would act on seeing her all burned up. In saying that - she was looking better since I had first arrived home.

“Fucking great stew, Dubs.” She smiled up at me, her eyes open a crack. “Any chance I can hire you full time to cook for me?”

[Certainly. I don’t take payment in credits, however.]

“Ohhh?” She leaned toward me and raised an eyebrow. “I am sure we could come to some arrangement. Once I’m-”

[Like, I could really do with murdering someone. You know anyone I could kill?]

Roxy paused, taking a few moments to drink in my response, before she deflated. “No, you asshole. Don’t regress into being a madman again.”

[I was never mad.]

“Nah, you were. How many times have you almost died?” She held up her empty bowl for me to take.

[Near misses don’t count. I only care about actual deaths.]

“Psh. Fuck off.” She smiled. “I guess our plans have changed a little since we’re entertaining our new friend. I wonder what his name even is.”

I shrugged and turned to put her bowl over on the garden table. There were a lot of questions that I had, and it would be nice to have them answered once Clara was successful in installing the vocalizer in the hobgoblin. I had been lucky as I already had the necessary tech in my neck ready and waiting for once to be placed there. He’d need to have that surgery and I wasn’t too sure how invasive it was.

My gaze went over to the workshop, wondering if there was anything I could prep for her. We needed a… proper medical unit. Something separate and sterile. No doubt I’d be getting injured again soon enough, and it was a miracle that we had managed to replace my ribs in the dining room without my getting any long-term problems.

So much to do and so little time.

[You cannot see them yet, but the League is coming to deliver their promised protection.]

“Yeah? Shit.” She squinted out at the city, but it was unlikely she’d be able to spot much. “Care to help your lady into the house so I don’t look like I’m having issues?”

[It would be my pleasure. There’s even more stew on low heat ready for you… and if you’re good, your favorite ice-cream in the freezer.]

Roxy bit her lip as I helped her up to her aching feet. “Damnit, Dubs. We should have met much sooner in life.”

[We met exactly when we needed to. If circumstances were different, we wouldn’t be where we are now.]

Any earlier in my hitman life and perhaps I wouldn’t have been swayed over to the light. We had both found each other in a rut and worked our way out. Together. It wasn’t a romanticism or my views on fate or destiny that led me to this conclusion, things just… happened the way they did.

“You’re probably right. But I’m glad we did when we did, you know?” She hissed as her burned soles crinkled on the wooden patio. “We might have been shuffled into this position by the asshole bigwigs, but I don’t think what we have is… it’s not fake, right?”

[It’s unconventional, perhaps. It’s not fake.]

“Good.” She smiled and gave me a brief hug, mostly with her arms as I helped her lower herself onto one of the kitchen stools. “I’m not usually this clingy and shit. Maybe I need to murder something as well?”

[It’s a date.]

Roxy shook her head. “That should not excite me.”

[I’ll yell if there are any issues.]

I brought her hand up to give it another faux kiss against my re-breather, which was enough reassurance for her to accept my departure. Back out into the garden, I sighed. Even when there wasn’t violence, things seemed to happen at breakneck speed.

There was no doubt in my mind that once I was a fully fledged hero and part of the team, things would slow down. The World Government would be more hesitant to come after me with the League of Heroes officially behind my back. I’d have to work and go on patrols and League mandated missions. It sounded… terrible, to some degree.

Mostly because I had wanted to break away from being a tool and find my own freedom, but at least this was my choice. I also knew the League wanted to use me for more than just the basic missions they gave most of the supers. I had been a damn good tool, and would be wasted strolling the streets looking for thugs to beat up.

Too early to start believing I was a lynchpin in this whole Goldarch power-play, however. I was still just one man who had skirted death a little too often. No point getting too big for my boots just yet. First issue was getting my trials completed, and then picking the team up from bottom of the rankings.

The rebranding would do just that, I was sure. I was a bubbling cauldron of things in progress. Just being gatekept by my standing, finances, or time.

My gaze went over to the workshop where the computer was still running through the encrypted drive. With some time to spare before the vans arrived, I went and had a look. Sixty-eight percent complete.

I stared at it for a moment, as if it would speed up under duress, but it remained cycling through the short animation that implied it was working away.

Pretty tough to crack. Boss must not have wanted me to get whatever was on it too soon after realizing that I had been Bard. How soon was I supposed to find my skeletal arm holding the key and the storage unit?

It was bizarre. He would have had to place the arm and key not long after my surgery, before I was sent out into the field. The key was probably just to a generic padlock, that he only decided what to do with long after I was working on contracts. A little foresight that ending up turning into a treasure hunt, where all I got was sharp pains from my traumatic past.

He’d always wanted me to find out, eventually. Maybe letting me cool off and adjust so that I didn’t sprint into my second death, going after whoever had killed me the first time. The squad or the Gov, I assumed. My memories were too hazy, and clues given to me too vague to say for certain. It was aggravating… but in a passive, slow-burning way.

Exactly as he intended. I would sooner or later approach the truth with a level head. With allies and experience. Strength and knowledge to fully deal with the fallout of my past. He was still an asshole, but at least he had a plan.

I stepped out and closed the workshop door just as the vehicles were coming to pull up a short distance from my yard. With a deep breath, I walked up over to them. Metal ball still loaded into my gun-arm, and the selectloader mechanisms tense to give me a follow-up answer to any unexpected questions.

A figure stepped out the front of the first of three vans. Dark skin, short hair speckled with gray, and a deep green uniform that had 'League of Heroes' written on it. He nodded as he walked over to meet me.

“Gunquake? Senior Equipment Manager, Howard Rhoades.” He held out his right hand to be shaken, before realizing and switched to his left. “Please provide me the security code you were given by the Director.”

I shook his hand and glanced past him. If it weren’t for the logos on the uniforms, and lack of weaponry, I would have assumed this was a military unit. The deep green outfits certainly gave that appearance, as did the almost regimental and practiced manner in which they all left their vehicles and went to get ready to unload once given the all-clear.

[Seven-five-three-eight-three.]

“Confirmed.” He gave me a brisk nod. “Installation should only take half an hour at most.”

[Actually, I would like to do it myself.]

Howard maintained his composure, but I could tell that he wasn’t expecting that—and didn’t like it either.

“With all due respect, Gunquake… this is delicate and complex technology. With our expertise it-”

[Trust me. You can check with Director Kingston.]

He gave a single, slow nod. “One second.” Withdrawing a radio-like device, he turned and stepped away to the side of his van.

There was a second reason I didn’t want them snooping about. The presence of our hobgoblin friend was to be a secret. Roxy would know this and stop our guest if he left his bath early. Even if the Director had given me a longer leash than others, it didn’t mean I was keen to have them snooping about all my private business.

I wanted that hobgoblin forge on my side. Paired with the mutant outpost able to mine up materials, I’d have a bit more control over my own life and what was available to me. Plus, if the League ever crossed us, having a drum full of the Sanguine stake alternatives would have me on even ground.

After a brief murmured conversation, the Equipment Manager turned back and shot me a humorless smile. Clearly, his arm had been twisted.

“That will be no problem, Gunquake.” He raised a hand and gave a gesture to his group, and they started to unpack things from the back of the van. “I’ll just need you to sign off on a few things.”

[It’d be my pleasure.]

It wasn’t. But after five minutes of going over the paperwork, all the boxes had been put on the ground to the side. With another handshake, the man and his three vans departed, turning back to the city. I watched them leave for a few minutes, before deflating.

I turned my head to see the super walking out and over to me. Slowly, with a grimace on her face and eyes only half open. The hobgoblin in a blue silken robe followed cautiously behind her.

“Fuck, Dubs. I hope you’re good at reading instruction manuals.”

With a grunt, I felt tired just looking at the dozen or so boxes. Perhaps letting them do the deed would have been better. If Clara was coming back to do surgery later, then she wouldn’t have the energy to do all this - but we wanted it up as soon as possible.

[The Director was at least good on his word. This equipment is… it will keep us safe.]

“Yeah? To what degree?” She came up and stood beside me, leaning against my arm gently.

[All of them. Imagine the dome that Erin creates, but it can actually read people. In an intelligent way, not just displaying changes in certain values. There is a mode where only bio-coded individuals are allowed into the dome. Anyone else is… shot.]

“Non-lethally, right?” She glared at the boxes.

[Hmm. Yes, it focuses on debilitation. There are four static sentries for each corner of our property. One larger anti-air cannon. Two patrolling drones, and several ground-pins that tie into the information that not only facilitates the central unit scan, but we can also feed Erin’s data into it.]

“Shitting hell. Seriously? We’d be locked up tighter than anywhere in the city.” Roxy pulled away from me to look around our housing area.

[Within a week I’m sure we will have several more buildings, and more things to protect.]

She whistled, returning her gaze to me. “Looks like your gamble paid off.”

[They always do, Roxy. I only bet on guaranteed wins.]

“Mmm. That’ll work, until it doesn’t.” Her arm wrapped around my lower back. “Then what?”

I raised my eyebrow at her, before looking back at the awkwardly out-of-place hobgoblin. It was quite the question. One I’d known the answer to for a long while.

[Then I’ll get what I deserve.]