My eyes ran down the length of my shotgun arm. The edges of the dark metal picked up the early morning light shining in through the workshop window. After moving my green goggles up from my face onto my forehead, I let a sigh out of my re-breather.
A weapon of violence. It had served me well in its singular purpose, so I couldn’t fault it for that. That was just the thing, though. A hand could be used for all manner of purposes, good and evil. Mundane or adventurous. A gun was a one-tone instrument, and I had long run an orchestra of-
“Are you alright there, Dubs?”
I blinked away the glaze over my eyes and stood, turning my head to the doorway. Eclipsing the daylight was the familiar muscled figure of Roxy, hands on hips and a raised eyebrow toward me. Gym wear, as had been standard for our week of vacation away from League of Heroes' work.
[Just playing with a little melancholy. As a treat.]
“Worried about your mission tonight? Would have been nice if the League could make up their mind about it.” She scratched at her short red hair as she pulled a face at the outside world.
The time off had been pleasant, if not constantly haunted at the edges by the looming eventuality of the League flaunting me and the rest of the Natural Disasters to the city finally. When the others had come over for training, I hadn’t even felt like doing the ego fight of all of them versus me. I could tell some of them were almost disappointed. We focused on cooperative training only.
Each of them had gone to their meetings to see their new outfits, but were equally keeping their lips shut. All except Roxy, who had hers today. She insisted that it was because she was the leader and needed a longer meeting, but the others also thought it was because she wouldn’t be able to keep a secret. That was fair. The League knew the two of us lived together and were likely to be looser with our lips when it came to new outfits or mission details.
Not that I had any lips, of course.
Even Clara had kept the results of her time with the League sealed away, despite her constantly being open about everything else. Then again, she didn’t really have an outfit, or required any equipment for her role as my remote sidekick. Even under our protective dome, they didn’t want to break the League’s rules.
Somewhat ironic considering all the other crimes we committed here. Although the shotgun cartridge fabricator had the proper licensing, what we were doing with it was… well, Clara was certainly inventive. Not only would Goldarch bring down the hammer on us if we were investigated, but there were definite World Government laws we were burning through at record pace.
They wanted to kill me anyway, so that wasn’t any reason to divert our current course. The techie herself had been mostly absent or busy for the last few days, in between her education and working on weaponry and tech for my nigh inevitable ascension to herohood.
My brain slowly revolved back around to the present situation that I was trying to delay acknowledging, and the reason why both of us were standing here having this conversation.
Hero reveals were apparently an important and fragile thing for the League, doubly so for a whole team rebrand. After stringing me back and forth the last couple of days, they had finally decided that I’d run what was called a ‘drip feed’ mission tonight. Solo, but they’d be picking out more marketing stills and footage and letting me be seen out and active in the city. Apparently driving up speculation about who I might be increased engagement for the actual reveal.
They’d circulate images and questions through shadow accounts via social media the two days after, and then the team would be shown.
Was I nervous? It was odd to have a problem I couldn’t shoot or talk my way through. Never in my known life had I cared what others thought of me—the opposite, in fact—I wanted to remain out of sight, an unknown. That type of hero wasn’t good for business, however.
Not that I was sure how I have wiggled my way into being a hero, either.
With my focus returning to the present and the workshop, I gave Roxy a shrug.
[Thought I’d find some focus here, but it’s different when it’s quiet. Drab. Introspective.]
I had spent a while last night standing here while the cartridge machine clunked and set new shells together, the nutrition canister fabricator buzzed, and the material scanner hummed its way through a part of the ancient mecha we were slowly disassembling. So much working machinery around me was oddly comforting, and I just stood there with a clear mind until Clara came in to disturb me.
This morning, all the machines were off. After fixing breakfast for the super, I had vanished in hopes of grounding myself here, but I just felt… glum.
“Once you get out there tonight, you’ll feel back to normal. Shootin' some bad guys under the shadow of fuckin’ darkness, right?”
I left the misery in the corner of the workshop where it belonged and walked over to the super. She remained unflinching, persisting in her pose with a smile on her face as I stood before her—but her eyes flickering with flames told me a different tale.
[You have plenty of your own nerves towards your meeting.]
Roxy deflated and sighed, resigning to leaning forward and hugging me. “Man, I was really looking forward to being your stoic guide through this bullshit. I almost wish we could stick to kicking the shit out of mutants and monsters instead of playing the city game again.”
[All part of the same pie. Goldarch is the day job, and the wastelands is our hobby.]
“Eh.” Her fingers found the back of my neck and ran through my hair. “We both just need to get through today and suck it up. I’ve been having a bad feeling about this, but I know it’ll be fine.”
After my time in the shadows, we had spent weeks brushing away the darkness and exposing me to the light. Now things were about to become their brightest, and would set the stage for how illuminated my life would stay. Briefly dazzled, but I’d been hardened enough to not be scoured away by the initial intensity. A little magic.
[I think I need some fresh air.]
Roxy pulled back and smiled again, her face visibly more relaxed. “Oh, that’s part of why I came to track you down, actually. There’s a truck on the way here.”
[Really? I didn’t think we were due any deliveries.]
“Might have to ask the gremlin if we can find where she is currently hiding,” she said with a shrug.
“I’m already within earshot.”
The super turned, allowing us to see out of the building and over to the green garden. Clara was standing there, a glass of water in one hand while the other held some small piece of tech. Dressed in her usual work dungarees with a black shirt underneath, with a red bandana tying her silver-gray hair back. Her bright green cybernetic eyes couldn’t hide the fact that she looked tired.
We left the workshop to join her. Off to the side, in the direction of the city in the distance, there was the dark shape of the truck approaching us.
“Odd to see you in the flesh for a change.” Roxy raised an eyebrow down the road. “You’ve been working almost constantly.”
Clara shrugged. “I have a few minutes to be third wheel. Or rather, I wanted to be here to present Gunquake his gift.”
[Oh? You certainly spoil me.]
She shook her head, almost grimacing. “No, Gunquake. Most of what I do for you is… functionally part of my career. This is something from me to you, wholeheartedly.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
I nodded, although it took me a second to fully take in what she meant. Despite saving my life, maintaining my existence, and striving to turn me into a more efficient killing… more efficient hero, she still saw that as her day job. Whatever was about to arrive was, aside from that, picked out because she earnestly cared for me.
[Now I’m even more curious as to what it is.]
“All that I ask is that you don’t break it immediately.” She shot me an uncharacteristic glare, and I wondered if that device in her hand was the one that controlled my cybernetic ribcage.
Roxy gave me a pat on the back. “I’m going to get changed. Don’t open it without me.”
I gave her a nod and watched her walk off. A big day for us all, present company included. My gaze returned to the techie, who was watching the delivery approach.
[How are you feeling about our first League mission later?]
Clara took a sip of water before turning her eyes up to me. “For the most part, Gunquake, all the pressure is on you. I have no doubt we will ace the mission provided and look good doing it.”
[Yet…?]
She grimaced and lowered her eyes. “Forgive me, Gunquake. Do you remember that prison break last week?”
I nodded again. It was right before we went out into the wasteland, and League had brushed us off from the event due to us being on vacation. Apparently it wasn’t such a rarity… which in part I assumed the League had a hand in it, so that some villains and criminals could get back on the streets to deal with. Cynical, perhaps, if they hadn’t almost told me that clear as glass.
“A couple of days ago, I dug out the records of who had escaped. They were somewhat hidden.” She reached into the front pocket of her dungarees and drew out a folded square of paper.
I took it from her and briefly struggled to open it out with one hand, helped only due to the fact that it looked as though it had been folded and unfolded a worrying amount of times for how long she'd had them.
A list of names.
My eyes scoured down the printed text of near twenty people. At first, I didn’t recognize any. I was yet to dive into the lore of the city, so just assumed any mononyms were villains and normal sounding names were regular criminals. Until I got to one that I did know.
Red Dust.
The supervillain who had battled with the now S-Rank hero Angel. Who had destroyed part of the suburbs. Who had inadvertently killed Clara’s parents when she was young, blinding her. The paper crumpled slightly as my grip tightened.
[You could have told me sooner.]
“No, I couldn’t.” She shook her head. “I know you, Gunquake. You’d have run off to try to find him and end up getting killed. We don’t even have the Sanguine stakes made yet. I don’t need you dying for empty vengeance.”
There was an incredible amount of sadness in her eyes. She was downplaying how she really felt, though. The fact that she was carrying this list around, checking it regularly… it told me that this was weighing on her. She needed closure. However, she wanted to me to be safe. If she didn’t think this would be an easy win, then I couldn’t betray her by getting into that fight.
[Understood. I won’t try to find him.]
She deflated with relief. “Thank you, Gunquake. The League have assured me they are trying to track him down and will put the S-Rank team out to arrest him. I know you want to protect me, but the best way you can do that is by staying alive.”
[I’m sure the League will be better equipped to track down and detain him. I would have come to the same agreement if you had let me know right away.]
“Not that I don’t think you are competent, Gunquake, but I wanted you to focus on tonight’s mission over all else.” Clara gestured towards the van, which was almost at our home area. “We have a few busy days before settling in to our new normal.”
[This isn’t the new tech you negotiated with the League?]
“No. Don’t get your hopes up for that, but we’ll get you equipped later once the full brief comes through.”
The League had been relatively vague about what my mission would entail. Naturally details were slim, so that there was less chance of the targets being tipped off, even if they trusted me to keep my lack of a mouth shut. A minor villain that had been causing trouble and a small gang of lackeys. No killing, of course—and they had supplied me with plenty of less-than-lethal ammunition to ensure I didn’t fall into old habits.
Which left Clara free to use our new machine solely for committing war crimes. Napalm, shrapnel, and some more experimental things that lived in the biohazard crate I wasn’t allowed to open. When it came to her work, she always excelled. Even if I was stepping in the more placid role of a hero, our side work as mercenaries for the League fighting back against the encroaching World Government meant that I’d still need to kill.
So she would provide me with only the best and most effective options, regardless of what the laws thought. Suited me, as I’d take any advantage offered, especially going up against villains who had actual powers. Red Dust briefly crossed my mind again, before the truck pulling up drew my attention away.
The vehicle was a flatbed, a long wooden box strapped down onto the back. While Clara discussed the sign-off details for the delivery, I circled to the side of the truck to get a better look.
About fifteen feet long, maybe eight wide and tall. A rectangle of wood that gave no hint about what was inside. Another machine for the workshop? Stacks of ammunition? Grenades?
She had said that it wasn’t work related, just something for me… so the size of it was interesting.
“Y’all need a hand?”
I turned my head to see Roxy exit the house, now in her current super suit. It wasn’t often she busted out a ‘ya’ll’ so I could tell her nerves had increased.
Our normal delivery service was still cooling off after we had used them to garner public favor for Captain Snaps—our speedster hero—so I didn’t recognize the current driver. He was briefly awestruck by Roxy’s appearance in full Rockslide regalia, that he just nodded and babbled about how that would save him the trouble of using the truck's built-in crane arm to do the deed.
I ignored most of the back and forth and the super lifting the box, to instead focus on the city. We were living as far detached from Goldarch as possible without being swarmed by the worst the wastes had to offer. I was soon to be more than an occasional ghost through those streets. A temporary reaper for worthless credits. Instead, I’d be steeped in politics, the machinations of the League, and everything more mundane.
It felt like standing on the edge of a diving board, looking down at the shadowed pool below. Unable to correctly judge the distance. Confidence there, but…
I paused, as Clara put her hand on my gun-arm, bringing it closer to wrap her arm around it.
“Seems you’ve come down with a case of noir, Gunquake.”
[It’s been a while since I’ve felt… at the bottom of the ladder again. Not rock bottom, but a new start all the same.]
She nodded and watched as Roxy put the box down gently. “I think we’re doing all this worrying and the next few days will be very uneventful and straightforward.”
I grimaced.
“Perhaps you should stop tempting fate,” Roxy said, giving the techie a side-eye as she signed an autograph for the driver.
“True.” Clara leaned into me more. “It’s much more fun to be tempting Gunquake instead.”
It turned out that a nervous Roxy wasn’t exactly the best person to prod at, as the glance she shot us made us both wince—and even the driver backed away in surprise as the edge of the papers in his hand started to curl up from the heat the super produced.
We waved him away and waited for the truck to be a decent distance from our base before we turned our attention to the package.
“Be my guest,” Clara said with a gesture. She downed the last of her water before watching me step over.
Being one-handed made it a difficult task, but Roxy assisted me—unclipping sections around the bottom so that could be lifted up into the air. With her own curiosity piqued, she did just that, and the object within was revealed.
As protective wrapping and sheets of plastic fell to the ground, polished metal picked up the sunlight. Sleek curves of chrome and deep green. It was unique, unlike anything I had seen in the city before. Wide. Sturdy. It had an aura of power to it. Two thick, heavy-duty tyres. A place to store grenades.
A motorbike. In my colors, and clearly packing more than a decent engine among the thick plated panels.
[It’s… gorgeous. Thank you, Clara.]
She wrinkled up her nose and waved me off. “Clearly it needs a little work to function with your gun-arm, and I’m sure I could add more things to it… but you are welcome.”
Roxy whistled, kneeling down to check it out closer. “I thought you said this wasn’t work-related, though? Dubs has needed a new vehicle since we flipped the wagon.”
“This isn’t to replace that. I have a proper vehicle on order, but it’s not something with overnight delivery. The bike is just because… Gunquake looks cool on them… and I wanted him to feel like he is cool.”
[That’s very considerate of you.]
“Yes, well. I’m going to go inside to die of embarrassment now. If you want to show your appreciation, then perhaps you can owe me… something.”
Roxy grunted. “You can’t just buy your way into his… anything.”
“You forget, sister - I’ve literally had my hand around his heart. Everything else is just inevitable, don’t you agree?”
I raised an eyebrow at the super, who just rolled her eyes in answer.
[As always, I am at your mercy then.]
Clara sighed and turned to leave. “If only,” she murmured.
As she left for the house, I turned my attention to my new motorbike. The quake-bike, no doubt. More heavy-set than the last one I had stolen. It looked as though it could take more a beating than most civilian vehicles could. I was instructed not to break it, however. Now I also wondered what main method of transport she was ordering for me.
“She’s a goofball,” Roxy said, standing and stepping over to me. “I’m glad she picked this out for you. It’s very fitting.”
[It should be perfect for getting around in the city.]
The super put her arms around me and pulled me close to give me a kiss on my temple. “She was right, too,” she murmured, “you do look hot on a bike.”
[I’m pretty sure she said ‘cool’.]
“Well, ace your mission tonight and you’ll have a bubble bath waiting for you. I got your favorite.”
I looked between the muscled hero, my new bike, and the distant city.
In no time at all, I’d be half a mag down through a criminal gang, bloodied with the smell of gunpowder and fear in the air. The heat of battle warming me and the buzz of Clara in my ear giving me guidance.
And I’d be loving it.
My eyes moved away from the rosy haze of optimistic foresight to see a message ping through my goggle lens. Feet fully grounded once more, I sighed and waited.
>Confidential Connection Secured
>Mission Briefing Downloading