The rooftop wasn’t exactly the simple perch overlooking the target that I had expected. Between my current position hiding behind a stack of warm metal vents, there was still quite the distance between my gun and the skulls of the grave-robbers.

Down from where I positioned were a couple of shorter buildings before a small public park. After that was the graveyard. A modest thing, and the fact that it existed here amongst the built-up city center gave credibility to it being for some wealthy corpses. It was probably decent real estate.

It was also blocked off by tall hedges and trees; the gate leading inside shadowed as two workmen fiddled with the lights. Despite the ladder and hi-viz jackets, I had a feeling-

//Clara: No record of planned works being carried out tonight.

//Clara: They are part of Bonemeal’s gang.

Yeah. Exactly that. With a little magnification from my lens, I could spot that they seemed to just be doing nothing at all instead of actual work. I couldn’t see any weapons, however. Nor their means of getting in and out of the area - but the trees around the edge of the park were blocking my view of the street.

My options were to either approach from the front or find a way in via the outskirts. I glanced at all the lights on throughout the surrounding buildings. Some of them had the occasional shape of someone moving past, or the flashes of a television show being watched.

I knew full well which way I’d prefer to assault the graveyard… yet also realized that I had to play this like a hero. The League was farming promotional content from me, so I couldn’t just deliver a few shots of me blowing everything to smithereens in the midst of a smokescreen. I had to… make more of a show of it.

For once I was glad not to have a mouth, otherwise I would have a bad taste in it.

Of course, my appearance made it hard to look unassuming - but perhaps it was beneficial not to look like an average hero.

//Clara: I’m going to detach and scout.

//Dubs: I will get a little closer.

The drone unclipped from my backpack; the rotors spinning up to catch itself in the air before it rose above me. I rolled out my wrists and sighed. Best to get stuck in and see how things would shake out.

While Clara flew over the park toward the graveyard, I dropped my rappel from left arm at the edge of the building. The metal tip burst into a bundle of expanding foam that quickly solidified, melding the taut line to the brickwork. With one last unspoken curse, I leaned over and started to abseil down to the lower building.

I knew it wasn’t just the League and any random civilians that would be seeing this. No doubt my colleagues would be interesting in seeing my debut and how I handle myself. While I didn’t have rivals—yet—I felt it necessary to impress. The Natural Disasters had to be a success.

Ugh. That name choice still haunted me.

My boots hit the next roof, and I detached the end of the rappel, my thoughts causing the hardened foam to dissolve. Out nearer the center of Goldarch, there was a residual hum of noise that I wasn’t used to. All muted sounds of solitary vehicles, people talking, and domestic machinery. While most of my contracts weren’t exactly in places of quiet—especially once I got involved—I had become used to the comfort of my home.

I dropped down off onto a lower part of the current building and slid gently from a sloped awning, landing and rolling from a thick bush. The smell of earth and foliage made it through my re-breather as I paused in the shade of the greenery. Trees surrounding me, and clumps of hedges around this boundary of the park.

//Clara: You were not spotted.

//Clara: Targets are using some form of cloaking within the graveyard.

//Clara: I can’t pinpoint movements or number.

//Dubs: Understood.

That didn’t particularly worry me. Other than the villain himself, I had enough experience with putting down thugs, no matter how they were armed. A graveyard didn’t have my usual preferred amount of cover and Roxy would murder me if I came home riddled with bullets…

But I felt calm.

I stepped out of my hiding space onto a small stone path and adjusted my coat hood. The League wanted me to show off a little? Fine, my bardic self knew how to thread a little narrative through my usual bursts of violence. I followed the path around.

The park was something quite pleasant, even at night. Much like the disabled lights over by the graveyard entrance, there were sporadic lamps placed throughout the area. Enough to provide few true shadows. For once, that was fine with me.

I circled around on the outer path, past two patches of flowers hiding away, and then a small stone fountain that was switched off. Perhaps this would be a nice place to take Roxy. Criminals often returned to the scene of their crimes, of course. I let the V-Force drive in my shotgun hum up and then fade back away as I approached the far end of the park.

It was no surprise that the two workmen saw me, given that I wasn’t attempting to be covert. That said, I did get rather close, given how quiet I was on my feet. The nearest spun his head around, away from looking at the lamp they had taken down from above the closed gate behind them.

“Ah, sorry,” he began, eyes focusing on me. “This area is currently… under maintenance…”

He looked late twenties. Dark skin, light eyes, and uncomfortable in the outfit he was wearing. His eyes went from my face, to my shotgun, and then to his companion. Similarly aged and dressed, but lighter in skin tone with patches of dirty blonde hair sticking out from beneath a brightly colored hard-hat.

“If you could move on,” this second man said, his voice wavering as he returned the glance before staring at my gun-arm.

[I’m actually here to pass on a message. There’s a problem.]

I nodded toward the graveyard, but otherwise kept my posture rather neutral. Using my rather villainous appearance as bait, I threw out the hook, hoping they’d bite and mistake me for someone on their side. Hinting that I knew what they were up to would either relax them or put them on edge.

They exchanged another look, this one longer, before the blonde nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. It’s from the Dark Council?”

[It’s better for both our longevities if you just do it without questioning and delaying me.]

Other than not looking like he really understood some of the longer words I used, he nodded eagerly. His hand went up to his ear, revealing some manner of micro-headset. He raised an eyebrow and awaited my message.

The first word I uttered was via the barrel of my shotgun. Nerve shot to the face and neck of the one awaiting my instruction. Knocked out immediately, as his body imagined that I had just blown his throat out. The closer faux-workman flinched in surprise before going to draw something from his side. Clara ran the drone out from the sky into the side of his head. As he stumbled in shock, I stepped forward and struck him in the temple with my metal elbow.

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A small pistol that looked like it shot either a lazer or similar unconventional ammo type bounced across the path as his body flopped to the ground.

//Clara: Looks like they have decent technology.

//Clara: C-Class Phaser pistol, F33 model. Force and minor heat damage.

//Clara: Not to mention they probably have their own comms.

Hopefully nothing to track their guards being knocked out. Mission accomplished, however, as all that information the techie relayed to me was what I wanted to get out of the goons. They had guns and a way to communicate.

There was also the mention of a ‘Dark Council’ which sounded cliche enough to be a group of villains starting up their own organization. Perhaps an unfair reach when I was both literally and figuratively in the dark, but I was starting to get the hang of how this superhero stuff worked. I’d be willing to bet the edgy group was the opposite of our S-Rank five.

Empty cartridge bounced across the stone path as I loaded in the next Nerve shot. Having the drone ram an opponent wasn’t ideal, but it was better than me using one of my abilities so soon. Especially when I might have just alerted everyone to my presence.

//Clara: In addition to visual cloaking, they seem to have something dampening sound both ways.

//Clara: Joy.

//Clara: Local Police are moving in to the area to ensure civilians stay well clear.

Clara’s comms were a lot more casual and conversational than normal. At this stage, I didn’t particularly mind. Hitting two thugs in the face didn’t exactly compare to our struggles against the mutants, so I was sure she would lock in once things started to get more complicated.

Further to that, I was sure her last message was delivered with a sour tone. It wasn't like her parents were afforded that same luxury, and Red Dust was no doubt still lingering in her mind. Hopefully, he’d be back under arrest soon and she could be at peace again.

I glanced over at the gate to see that it was barely ajar. A hefty padlock lay on the ground, shadowed by the ladder and prop tool they had brought. The metal hoop on it melted away as if they opened it with acid. The techie was right - I couldn’t hear any sounds from within. My re-breather whirred as I sighed, and I took myself toward the entrance.

Clearly this graveyard was well maintained even if no longer receiving permanent guests, as the barred gate opened smoothly. Silently. After stepping within, I pulled it back to behind me. I debated it in my mind for a couple of seconds, before I used one of the thick tie-straps from a pouch to hold the two gates shut again. It wasn’t especially sturdy, but I didn’t want runners.

As I turned back to the graveyard proper and took another step, an odd feeling washed over me. It wasn’t… magic, but something else. I had stepped through the veil that had been put up, and my eyes cleared away the deep shadows to reveal a better picture of what lay before me.

Figures. By instinct I dropped down behind the nearest cover - some rather tall gravestones. The place was dotted with many of these rectangular monoliths of polished obsidian, occasionally broken up with longer tombs and the occasional mausoleum. Not especially large, and pretty condensed, since space in the city was probably a premium. It turned this place of rest into a maze. That was to my benefit.

Around the edge of my hiding spot, I could see four targets clearly, while there was movement beyond that hinted there were at least three more in that direction. Unlike the two now laying unconscious outside the gates, these wore different outfits. Plain white death masks and dark robes. Belts that held their pistols. A couple of shovel-like weapons in the hands of some, while others held boxes. Each of them was looking further into the graveyard, toward the larger mausoleum. It must be the main focal point for their plot, and probably went underground.

I was more interested in whatever they were using to provide the stealth and sound muting around the area. If I knew Clara—and she certainly knew me—we both wanted that tech in our lives. I lowered myself down as voices echoed from the other end of the graveyard. Someone sounded mad.

//Clara: Looks like they haven’t been able to enter the tomb yet.

//Clara: Target is not impressed.

//Clara: Five by him, four in the middle, four close to you.

//Clara: I suggest heading toward the villain with subtlety while we have that advantage.

//Dubs: Agreed.

//Dubs: Guide me.

They didn’t seem to have anything to detect the drone, which would ultimately be their downfall. I knew that this mission would spark an arms race. Villains would get smarter and start to prepare for my strengths. We’d have to find a way around their new defenses. For a mortal like myself, there was a hard cap on my potential that could be cut short by someone powerful enough. That might just mean hoping the League guided me around such a pitfall.

Such avoidance played out in a more real sense as Clara told me to move. I kept low, using the shadows and jutting stone grave markers as cover while stepping quietly to the right. Heading toward the hedges over on that side would keep me away from the main group of henchmen who were murmuring and trying to avoid the ire of their boss.

Bonemeal himself didn’t appear to be someone who had much patience for incompetence or things not going his way. As he ranted and raved at his subordinates, he drew their attention away from potentially spotting me. By the time he had vented enough and decided on a path forward, I was already halfway up the graveyard.

Clara told me to pause, and I hunkered down. While the right side had been the clearest sector of the graveyard at the start, whatever instructions Bonemeal had given them now sent a trio of the robed goons in this direction.

//Clara: They can’t get into the main tomb.

//Clara: Looks like they are going to loot some of the minor ones instead.

//Dubs: Any thoughts on why they can’t get in?

//Clara: Nothing brief enough to relay in situ.

//Clara: Three seconds and then sharp left behind the longer grave.

I timed it as if it was my own heartbeat, my life on the line as I moved as instructed, passing a gap and crouching behind a raised block of polished marble. Unfortunately, I had my own thoughts on the current problem plaguing the villain, and my brain seemed to move quicker than my legs needed to.

While the cynic in me thought that the League themselves might have tipped Bonemeal off about trying to loot the graveyard, it was then equally likely that the League would have made it impossible for them to do so. The gate lock had been easily melted through, but the tomb or mausoleum with the actual goods must be protected by something even stronger. I wouldn’t put it past the Director to have arranged for a spellcaster or tech specialist to have increased the security right before this mission was to play out.

Perhaps I was completely off with penning that narrative, but the clarity of it when showing on my mental pages was too believable. Undeniable facts.

I held my breath as a figure walked along on the other side of where I was hidden. Their own footsteps were muffled by the soft grass, but I could follow them by their faint shadow and rustle of their clothing.

Expecting them to go all the way to the right, they instead stopped—almost in view of me. I slowly raised my gun-arm up to point in their direction.

“Bonemeal says to get in this tomb,” a voice complained from slightly deeper and further to the right.

The henchman nearest me murmured something under his breath before turning to face the speaker. “You got the tools, then? It’s going to take time, y’know?”

“Complain to the boss. See if you can convince him otherwise.”

I saw the shoulders of the man near me slump as he sighed. “Fuckin’… fine, let’s get this done.”

Not exactly the most loyal and obedient gang, but that wasn’t exactly a surprise. It was rare to find henchmen that were as fervent and dedicated to their cause as the villains were. Many just took up whatever gig they could for economic reasons, but there were plenty of mercenaries or criminals that joined up. It wasn’t my place to solve the systematic inequalities of the city, only to… or maybe it was, now that I was a hero?

//Clara: Targets moving away, hold for information.

On the one hand, I didn’t want to reveal my position or presence. On the other hand, my shotgun was rather insistent that I don’t allow these thugs to desecrate any of the tombs here. As the henchman closest sunk out of view, I listened as he walked over to join the other two. Just as I was about to ask, Clara sent me over an overlay of the graveyard with current target positions.

A simple square, near enough. A faint grid split it into twenty-face smaller subsections. I had entered the bottom at box twenty-three. Main tomb was at three, with Bonemeal at eight. A few henchmen clustered around that area. I was near fifteen, on the right side where three others were gathering. Equally, on the other side around eleven, there were another three. The rest were loose around the center. Too far from the villain to assist, but not exactly keeping guard or anything.

Unless they were maintaining the tech to keep the shield over the area.

//Clara: Estimating two minutes before a tomb is broken into.

//Clara: Confirm next course of action.

I closed my eyes for a moment and steadied my breathing. Gun-arm ready, I stood and made my decision.

It was time to be a hero.