The slow ticking of the clock held my full attention. My trial was looming closer by the second, but there were so many of them in the way.

With the team in better spirits, the joint training went by like a breeze. After painting myself as the common foe, they had rallied behind Roxy’s leadership and we presented a few options for actually working together, rather than just working alongside each other. Despite their desire to hang around long into the evening, we agreed that some rest would be more important.

Clara had returned by dusk, with a new drone in tow. We gave it a test run to get used to the differences, although for me they weren’t readily overt. It was a better model. Sleeker, quieter, and more maneuverable. While we had discussed versions that could carry supplies or even packed small firearms before, she was keen to have something to perform the scouting role better—assuring me that there was a good reason for that decision.

Now the morning after, the techie was sitting beside me on the couch, her hand holding onto my gun-arm nervously as we waited.

As much as we had allowed the focus to be on my hero test, and partially now also a gauge on the team composition, the day was also about her. If I became a hero officially, she would become my sidekick officially. Part of me wondered if she had been busying herself constantly as of late to try to avoid this very real promotion she was about to receive. Any of my attempts to pry into her feelings over the job change had been brushed away, so I let it lie for now.

Roxy had been pacing through the kitchen and lobby for the better part of an hour. As much as she didn’t like to be late, not knowing the time to leave was similarly eating her up. The rest of the team had signaled that they were ready in the group chat, but all we could do now was await the briefing from the League.

Keeping us on edge was probably part of the whole circus act.

The super stopped walking a groove through the floor to stop at the living room doorway, drawing our attention.

“League are apologizing for the delay. There’s been some kind of break out at one of the prisons, so they’re short staffed.” She pulled a face, looking exhausted despite our rest.

[Anything we should be worried about?]

Roxy shook her head. “No, they probably already have heroes on it. Usually they give a list of escaped villains or important criminals, but they’ve been rather quiet.”

[Perhaps keeping us focused on our task for today.]

With a shrug, she went back to the kitchen.

I had long suspected that some of the prison breaks were staged, or at least allowed. The League controlled supers to babysit the demi-gods so that they didn’t ruin the world. Villains were the other side of the same coin, and while I was sure the organization didn’t personally tell the bad guys what to do, they no doubt turned a blind eye on occasion to drum up work for the law abiding supers.

The feud with the World Government added some context to why a villain might choose to stick around Goldarch and adhere vaguely to the theatrics the city abided by. The Gov had an even dimmer view of criminals with powers, and would probably erase any villain trying to get their hands dirty in a city without the League’s protection.

That… was my old job.

I felt it clearly now, as if sitting in silence for so long was a manner of purgatory where my sins could take better form. My squad of ten technologically enhanced super soldiers was a scalpel in the World Government’s hands. To cut away anyone they deemed a threat. Villain and Hero were just labels the League used here, but out in other cities, that kind of thing didn’t matter.

They were just trouble.

After a few moments of allowing this echo to bounce around my empty skull, I turned my eyes to the techie. Clara had an equally stoic stare that matched mine, looking out of the window at the workshop. Encrypted drive was at ninety-something percent. Part of me hoped it would be all the answers. Who Boss was. Why he had brought me back to this life. The nature of the betrayal that set the group into ruin. More likely, it would just be a digital map for another trauma treasure hunt.

Still, the shadows were fading by the day.

[Imagine after all this tension the trial will be some form of community service.]

Clara blinked a couple of times before turning a mild scowl my way. “As nice as it would be to not have to stitch you back together later, I will be mildly annoyed if you aren’t committing some grand act of violence, Gunquake.”

[I intend to use some of those grenades either way.]

Her expression relaxed into a slight smile. “Well, you did rather well yesterday. Next time, I hope to join you.”

[They wouldn’t stand a chance then.]

She drummed her fingers on my shotgun before moving her hand away—some of her nerves clearly abated. “I was going to save this for a post-win surprise, Gunquake, but I can’t help myself. The League has fast tracked the license application. We’ll be able to get a cartridge fabricator in the very near future.”

[That is pretty exciting.]

Despite my sentence sounding rather flat, I was excited. If it wasn’t for my recent meeting with the Director, I would be suspicious that the League would allow me that power. Making my own ammunition was dangerous—tenfold because of the imagination of the techie. But they wanted me to have this option. Without realizing it, I had always been on their leash. It was just a slack and very long one. If I continued to get the results they wanted, I could do as I pleased, almost.

There was irony there, somewhere. Something about being a tool gave me the most freedom. Any focused point my brain tried to land on fell away from my thoughts as Roxy stomped back over to us. More purpose in her steps this time.

“It’s go time,” she said loudly, striding into the doorway once more. “You’ll each get the short-form briefing in a minute, but I’ll forward you the full shit, Dubs.”

I nodded. Her expression was stoic and focused, actually in her element. As much as I wanted to sit and bask in her growth back into a position of leadership, her message with the information pinged up in my lens. I opened it and started to read through, just picking up the key phrases as I tried to take it in as soon as possible.

“We’re out of the door in ten,” she commanded, before leaving the room.

High threat. Deep in the wastes - almost twice as deep as I’d ever gone before. Satelite imagery showed a large compound shaped like a blocky pyramid. Underground areas likely. A city of various wasteland-dwelling groups that hadn’t gone against Goldarch before, but something had changed. They’d unearthed something. This unknown entity was powerful and not only took over the city quickly, but has shown the desire to expand their empire.

“That’s alarming,” Clara said, before exhaling through her nose.

[You think so?]

She gave a tired shrug and deflated into the couch. “Othea is steeped in both old magic and powerful entities long dead and buried. There’s always someone foolish and unlucky wanting to dig deeper and find some lost power.” Her eyes closed for a moment. “It almost always ends badly, Gunquake.”

[Only ‘almost’?]

The techie stretched her legs out, rotating her ankles to limber up. “Sometimes an artefact will be found. Or just old history stuff. There are a few monsters wandering the world who were dug up and repopulated. There’s a good reason the World Government is strict about who and where people can cut into the ground.”

[I wasn’t aware. My history knowledge is rather lacking, even with most of my memories sinking back in.]

“It’s not really the time for it, Gunquake,” she said as she stood up. “But three hundred or so years ago, the world was all sword and sorcery. Dragons and knights. Then there was an event known as the Zero day. Reports are conflicted with the actual method, but technology bloomed into being. The modern world you now know has only existed for a handful of generations.”

I stood to join her and adjusted my tactical vest.

[That seems like such a short time, for how little overtly remains of the old ways.]

Clara gave me a grim smile as we moved out of the room. “The Weather Wars, alongside several other conflicts, messed the world up to some degree. Magic and technology didn’t always work well together, Gunquake. The last few decades have actually been the most peaceful on record since the Zero day.”

[Is this in part due to most of the old power being buried away, and the World Government regulating things?]

“Partially. Something beyond my pay grade to speculate, I’m afraid. As the amount of available power in Othea weakened, I think people just switched to seeking money over everything else.”

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

[Interesting. Thank you, Clara. That was a great way to distract us from the panic of our toughest mission yet.]

“Are you two yapping or getting ready?” Roxy’s voice came from upstairs.

“Best get moving, Gunquake.” Clara sighed. “You’re lucky. Another five miles and I wouldn’t have the drone range to work from home.”

[Will you be alright here alone?]

“I always prefer having you close, Gunquake.” Her eyes went over to where the super’s voice had come from. “But the tech here is the second best thing. I’ll be switching it to emergency lockdown, so the only thing that could harm me would be something that would easily paste you and Rockslide anyway.”

[I’m not sure if that is comforting or not, but good. This is a big day for us both, but I believe in us. We’ll kick ass.]

She grinned and stepped closer to give me a hug. “Take care of my sister, okay? I’d never forgive you if anything happened to her, Gunquake. Do not forget I have your kill-switch now.”

[Alright, enough flirting. Let’s get me fitted up before Roxy comes and twists my head off.]

It wasn’t really a kill-switch as such, but I probably wouldn’t survive her pressing the emergency open button for my metal rib cage. As much as it would be amusing for my chest to spontaneously burst open, I much preferred jokes I could live through.

So we went to the workshop while Roxy arranged a meeting place for the rest of the team to assemble. Mags loaded, drums full to the top, and replacement stims, canisters, and grapple foam ready. We packed a lot of extras into crates to take in the wagon. My left hand held a grenade in hand. Oh, sweet explosive throwable.

Enough Smoke, Flash, and Fragmentation to last the mission, even if I went a little over the top. I wasn’t sure how she even swung getting some real explosives, but knew well enough not to ask. There seemed to be something on her mind in regards to the mission, but she assured me it was nothing relevant or important. I’d pick her mind later.

Roxy joined us as I finished loading the vehicle. Her face was full of nerves, but she was grinning through it. I wasn’t even sure what our worries were over. Between the two of us—three, including Clara—it was hard to imagine anything being a threat. Now we’d also have the rest of the team. The trio had accepted they were essentially our support group. Belle, of course, knew her role, but Roy was able to put his ego aside to understand that even with his gloves, there were things he wouldn’t be able to stand up against.

While her lava powers seemed to soften some of her durability, in sparring with Roxy yesterday we had found that in tempering her skin, her default damage reduction had improved by some degree. Although she had tried to paint it as now having a defensive and aggressive stance, her base strength was still incredible without the lava.

I shut the door of the wagon as she sat in beside me.

“Any last screaming into the void of our protected area before we head out?” she asked, biting at her lip in a grimace.

[Once I am official, I want to go public with our relationship.]

“Yeah?” She leaned forward, hand on the side of my face as she kissed my re-breather. “I have zero reservations about that. You and me against the world, Dubs.”

[We’ll save that extinction event for another day. Talk mission to me while I drive to the rendezvous point.]

I hadn’t really considered it before, but she would have done this kind of thing for the group before they fell apart. It was clear that she was fitting back into that old role, as she seemed comfortable detailing out information from the brief. She played up the braindead side of her, and even if not tactically minded, she did actually have a head for being an organizer.

In fact, some of our training had revolved around that. As both our hardiest and hardest hitting squad member, she was the lynchpin of our fighting force. Many of our new strategies revolved around where she was and what was happening to her in the fight. Nobody seemed to mind the roles shaking out that way—even me. It was nice not feeling like the spotlight was on me for a change. After all, I had gone from being a support in my old squad to living in the shadows as a solo hitman.

And that’s how we planned to fight. I was her personal support. Her shadow. While she tore through everything, I’d be there with a curated selection of problem solvers across my belt. I was there to patch up her weakness, yet also standalone. We all needed to become uncontestable in our own right, aside from being a comprehensive unit. Some of us needed more work on that, but that was a matter of lack of time rather than desire.

Roxy ran through the facts of the brief from the top. It sounded like it would be a slaughter. Population of the wastes city—known as Blightwatch—had been corrupted or brainwashed by whatever they had dug up. From the basic information, it was speculated to be a powerful ancient ancestry. Possibly magic users, but the League didn’t really know.

And that was the crux of it, the super had decided. This was a big problem, outside the boundary and normal concern of Goldarch. We were cutting the bud and salting the earth before the poisonous vines could grow and reach out toward our city. This was a test for if we could be that scalpel they needed. Extrajudicial killers.

I already knew Roxy and I could be that.

We pulled up to an area out further west of our home, Ren’s black off-road vehicle already there, with Roy standing beside it, talking to Belle through the window.

Roxy was already out of the side of the wagon before I’d even stopped fully.

“Morning gang,” she said, striding over to them as I rolled down my window. “Any questions about the briefing?”

Belle pulled a face and stuck her face further out of the window. “His blessing on you both. If we get rid of the brainwashing thing, are the populace going to return to normal and we’ll be struck with guilt over those we kill?”

The super put her hands on her hips. “Irrelevant. Get used to the color of gray.”

Belle nodded briefly. “Noted.”

“I’m good,” Ren’s voice came from the driver’s side.

The Captain rubbed his head. “Are we being recorded for this? Any media generation to be aware of?”

Roxy glanced back at me before shaking her head. “This is purely for trial purposes. It won’t count for your monthly targets or PR campaigns either.”

I wasn’t sure whether to be surprised by the slight grumbling of the trio, or just impressed with Roxy’s professional attitude. Of course, she had spent most of the night struggling to get to sleep because of how important this was to me, and thus her, by proxy. I hadn’t expected top form, and I felt woefully in love.

“Last thing, then,” Roy continued. “Can I ride in the quake-wagon?”

“Absolutely not, for calling it that.” Roxy waved him off. “We set off in two minutes.”

//Clara: Gunquake. Audio is now active.

//Dubs: Confirmed. We are about to set off from the rendezvous point.

//Clara: Affirmative. I will check in once you are closer to the mission area.

I closed down the chat as Roxy got back in the passenger seat.

“I adore Roy, but I need this head space to be just the two of us now. It helps me focus when I'm stressed.” She gave me an apologetic grin.

[No problem, I feel the same way. Although, we have Clara’s ears on us as well now.]

“That’s fine,” she nodded before narrowing her eyes out at the horizon. “You know that I trust her like she’s an extension of the both of us.”

[How do the others seem?]

Roxy paused before answering, my vehicle thrumming into life as I shuffled to get more comfortable on the seat. It would be a long drive.

“Ren and Belle are nervous, as neither of them has technically killed anyone before.” She leaned back in the seat, but kept her eyes on the way ahead. “Like even at that clone place, Ren was just running recon. Belle only supports, whatever we’ve done.”

[I would have thought Ren would have had some accidents, with her using a bow.]

“She’s very particular about her shots. I’m pretty sure you know that, Dubs, considering you allowed her to attack you.”

She was partially correct. You couldn’t be a superhero with a bow and be a terrible shot with it, so the elf must have passed some level of competency to join with the League. In the training she had little issue hitting targets, so it had been a lucky guess on my part that she’d be able to avoid impaling my head. It just went to show there was still plenty I needed to do to be unkillable.

[It’s sweet that you assume I know what I’m doing half the time.]

“Don’t give me that, asshole.” The super smiled. “The fact that the League is letting me out on this day trip says a lot, don’t you think?”

[It makes me wonder why they haven’t thought of doing something like this before.]

“A group of mercenary heroes? Hmm.” Her brow furrowed in thought.

I personally would have assumed some of the villains could be convinced to fight on the side of Goldarch outside of city limits, for their freedom or something. Maybe it was my unique position as being ex-Government that made me slightly more untouchable in a public sense. Wrong person in the right place. Or the right person in the wrong place—it was hard to tell some days.

“I told the League we wanted to go for Natural Disasters for our group name.” She changed the subject, perhaps trying to push the looming violence from her mind. “I figure we’ll give them the toughest pill to swallow and then negotiate down to something more palatable.”

[You’re really confident we will pass this, then.]

“Dubs. Just don’t die, okay? No heroic bullshit. We’ll be hours away from Clara being able to put you back together.” She rolled her eyes. “The actual mission is whatever. If they don’t want to put you in the team, then fuck ‘em, we’ll build our own.”

//Clara: Med crate has enough to put you in a coma until you get home.

//Clara: But I can’t work miracles, Gunquake.

[We will succeed. No permanent injuries, I promise. How do you feel about having to kill through a city?]

While she still continued to scowl over the first part of my statement, Roxy tilted her head from side to side. “City is a stretch. We’re not talking thousands of occupants here.”

[Hundreds, though?]

She nodded.

[What if the excavated danger is some manner of disease or parasite we’ll catch upon arrival?]

“League are certain it’s not. I know it’s a lot to ask you to trust them blindly. Believe me, I’ve wondered if this has all been a setup to kill us off or get blackmail footage to threaten our careers.” The super held up her hand, inspecting her nails idly. “We both know I’m a dumbshit on occasion, but there was a time I was half decent at this. Back when I cared.”

[And you care again?]

“Yeah. Of course. You’ve seen how things have been lately.” She gave me a glance and a smile. “You’ll have to trust that I have a firm grip on the situation.”

[Then I’m lucky to have someone so experienced showing me the ropes.]

Roxy beamed as she leaned closer to me. “Not the first time you’ve said that.”

//Clara: Don’t make me detonate the quake-wagon.

[Clara requests that we tone it down a little.]

I knew better than to question if the techie had really rigged up my vehicle with the capacity to explode. In fact, I would almost be disappointed if she hadn’t. It might be useful if my wagon was ever stolen, or I turned rogue.

“What about you then, Dubs? Thoughts on killing off this city for the League?”

[I’m a good soldier. I do as I’m told.]

“Fuck you.” The super shook her head. “All the progress you’ve made in making a new life for yourself and you’re going to lick the League’s boots just like that?”

I shot her a glance as the wagon rumbled over some rougher parts of the terrain.

[No, I meant I was going to do whatever you told me to do.]

She narrowed her eyes, but was unable to put on any ire, and a smile broke through. “I know we met under odd circumstances, but I’m really glad we did, you know?”

[Then I assume you’ve already decided on our next date night?]

“Of course. You’re going to tolerate it so hard.” She stuck her tongue out. “It’s competitive.”

[Now I’ll have to survive today.]

Roxy gave me a wink, and we sunk into a comfortable silence. I checked the map to make sure we were on the correct route. The League had helpfully provided us a line that slalomed back and forth to avoid any known mutant tribes, monster lairs, and deformations in the terrain. It added another thirty minutes to an already long travel time, but we’d get there safely.

We had all come a long way since that group mission against the clone factory. We had further to go still, our collective foot barely just in the door. This was the first proper test of our mettle.

Next stop, Blightwatch was about to learn how well it held up against Natural Disasters.