The next few hours were reasonably miserable.

I wasn’t sure what to think about Angel arriving on the scene. Perhaps just some professional interest, as she was the one who had gotten Red Dust locked up originally. I didn’t know what kind of person she was, but from what I knew about heroes so far, I imagined she was anything but what her title suggested.

Fever struck me on and off. I switched back and forth between chills, sweating, and a grumbling hunger. With the use of a wheelchair, Clara and the doc managed to get me back on the hospital bed I had escaped from. Painkillers had me woozy as soon as I struck the pillow and I tried to sigh away all this trauma.

One of the two gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. Told me they were going home for proper rest and more words I couldn’t process. I liked to think it was Clara, although in this state I’d take any comfort offered.

A dreamless nap later, and my eyes opened with a little more clarity. The bed beneath me whirred as it raised me into more of a sitting position. I looked over to the side to see the doctor on a stool. He looked tired, but less nervous than… whenever I was last awake. There were no windows here to really tell what time of day it was.

[Where did you get all the blood transfusions?]

“Good morning to you too.” Jarl gave me a dry smile before stepping over to me. “Short answer is you replaced it all yourself.”

[Oh. The nanites?]

“Generally, yes. It’s an energy drain, which is why you’ve had the fever and require frequent rest. I’m sure you are no stranger to sleeping a long time after severe injury.”

It didn’t take long for my brain to latch on to that being the truth. Many of my post-contract days had been spent in a partial coma while I miraculously recovered. I had thought it was just my latent magic gradually fixing me, but it sounded like that wasn’t the entirety of it.

[You’re not the one that gave them to me, though?]

He shook his head and went over to a tray to bring a metallic device into his hand. “Part of what makes you a super soldier. Your reflexes, durability, and decision making all owe some thanks to the nanites. Without boring you with the details, the brief knowledge I have gained from studying them is that they are a unique blend of technology and magic.”

[Like tiny robots inscribed with runes to empower certain effects?]

The doctor paused, looking over from the held item to me. “That is perhaps the most succinct and accurate description that could fit in one sentence, yes. Miss Clara explained to me the circumstances that led to you having that hand-print scar, a metal ribcage, and a bloodstream full of powdered arcane crystal.”

[She hadn’t mentioned me before at all?]

“No.” He moved over to the bed to stand beside me. “Only that she had a friend with some basic cybernetics. It’s not uncommon for those in the field—especially those with cyber parts themselves—to have a social circle that includes those with tech. It was… quite the shock for her to show up with you, of all people.”

Bleeding to death sans legs probably assisted with that surprise. I already knew why she hadn’t told him about me. She wanted to spring the question about getting my mouth replaced eventually, but didn’t want her education to seem like a way of getting cozy with the doc so that he would say yes. He was my best chance, even though it still seemed narrow and distant at this stage.

[I forgot to thank you for agreeing to become in charge of me, medically. That can’t have been an easy decision.]

“To some degree.” His eyes darted over my gas-mask as he stood, before he made eye-contact again. “I’m an old man, Gunquake. While I do not regret not having children, there is a part of me that imagines if I had… then Miss Clara is the sort of daughter I would have wanted. Ingenious, studious, and strong-willed. Even if we didn’t have a prior connection, I may have agreed just based on how much she cares for you.”

[She has saved my life several times. I am lucky to have her.]

Jarl nodded and held up the silver object he had in his hand. “Perhaps we can start changing things so your life isn’t governed by luck so much? If you are tired of your STAR system being tied to your goggles, I can give you the modern ocular version?”

Given that he was standing right here holding it ready, I assumed he expected me to agree to it. At a guess, the STAR unit embedded in my left arm was something from my super soldier days. Roxy and the other heroes had this ocular version, which was a projection similar to my lens… but with holographic screens only I could see. If I had that, I would have been able to request help sooner against Red Dust.

[How invasive is it?]

“Just an incision along your temple,” he replied, gesturing to the side of my head. “It takes a few hours for your brain and eyes to get used to the screens, so while you’re bed bound it will be a good opportunity to make the adjustment.”

I grunted and gave him a nod. If he had any more ulterior motives, he could have done a lot worse already. He was smart enough not to make an enemy of Clara and the League, and I had nothing but earnest vibes from him since I had arrived. I wasn’t a fan of ‘bed bound’, however, and planned to escape as soon as I could get away with it.

“You’ll be put out for about ten minutes. It can be done live, but… the brain isn’t a fan and might reject it.”

[Do what you need to.]

He did. I needed the rest, anyway. There was a brief dream that slid across my tired mind, but it didn’t really settle. Another quick show of shadows and rain, the smell of blood quickly replaced by some form of antiseptic as I woke up.

“Successful,” the voice of the doctor came from my side. “It works via your synapses, so practice with controlling your thoughts to bring up the menu.”

I blinked a few times, just staring up at the blank ceiling. The overhead light had been moved away so that I had a blank canvas - no doubt allowing me a decent chance to get used to the new STAR without my brains leaking out.

A shimmering green screen, rectangular and fuzzy, appeared in the top left of my vision. I winced and exhaled slowly as it faded into higher detail. White text came into view, giving most of the same options that my lens-based version had. I skipped past most of them, especially my Health Status screen, to check the flashing Messages button. It was already synced up with my normal account.

The Natural Disasters chat room was full of well-wishes from the other three. They’d been given the order from the League to not bother me in person, which was a shame. Clara had probably let them know I hadn’t died, at least.

A new message chain was also waiting for my attention. Director Kingston, my manager Stacy, and someone named Len B who I hadn’t spoken to before.

The League had decided on the narrative.

After beating Bonemeal, I had run into a gang and gotten into a fight. They were hinting as it being revenge for the graveyard stunt, but not saying it outright. Red Dust had arrived—the puppet master for the minor villain, apparently—and the not-yet Natural Disasters had turned up to protect me. Not entirely incorrect, to some degree, but the next part was bound to ruffle some feathers.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Roxy hadn’t killed Red Dust. In fact, the League were pushing the story that the super was injured in the fight. The villain was instead captured, put into custody and a more secure jail cell by none other than…

Angel.

I understood it. She had been on the scene and had put him away the first time. The League must have made sure there were no recordings of Roxy’s angered murder. I was anticipating them going for a self-defense ploy, given that she was trying to stop Red Dust from turning me—and perhaps the rest of the group—into shredded meat.

Looked like they wanted to spin it even more favorably towards their own success.

My feelings over it were… muted. I didn’t care much for the glory of getting rid of Red Dust, and I’m sure Roxy would be content enough for things to be swept under the rug. At the end of the day, it was a good enough ending that I was alive, and I hadn’t fucked the team’s chances of making a dent into the Goldarch rankings.

It also sprung to my mind that Roxy was capable of killing S-Rank strength supers under the right circumstances. I needed to get stronger.

With a sigh, I closed the STAR windows down to look over at the doctor.

[Simple enough. What can you tell me about my new legs?]

“Perhaps I am biased, Gunquake, but once you get used to them, they may be better than your original ones.”

I raised an eyebrow as he stepped back into view. Not the best audience to admit to that I preferred my meaty parts. I wanted a hand and a mouth again, so furthering my descent into being a mechanical being wasn’t ideal. Still, every cloud had a silver lining. After allowing the silence to sit for a few moments, he continued.

“You are familiar with V-Force, correct?”

I nodded and watched as he stepped down the bed to be aligned with my metal legs. With a finger out, he tapped on my shin. I… felt it. Not quite the same as if he was touching my skin, but there was some actual feedback beyond just the vibration from the light strike.

“These are also powered by that, however, their actual use will come later. First, you need to learn to walk, and then to run. Then we can get into more advanced training, and your synapse connection will allow you to spool energy into your legs.”

[Are we talking… the ability to jump higher and land from great heights?]

Doctor Jarl gave me a brief smile. “Not exactly. You won’t be able to follow in the footsteps of Rockslide, but next time you decide to leap from three stories up, you’ll be able to walk away relatively unharmed.”

[Could I kick people really hard?]

“Undoubtedly.” He tilted his head. “I understand why Clara has an interest in you as a guinea pig, when your recovery from surgery is practically unheard of. From your facial reaction, you can already ‘feel’ through your legs. That usually takes at least a week for most patients… then again, the number who have this Grade of tech available is very few.”

[You said it was restricted or something. Is there anything else useful you could give me off the record?]

Jarl narrowed his eyes and sighed. Without answering immediately, he turned and walked over to the cabinets off at the side of this operating room. “Technically, the upgraded STAR is meant to be signed off before being provided to anyone. Aside from that, nothing else at this stage. Not only so I can avoid getting in hot water with the League, but there’s only so much your body can handle. Too much and the uptake of your leg usage is delayed.”

I did want to be up and moving as soon as possible. In the next ten minutes would be preferred, but I could hang about for an hour at most. I knew that it would be longer, but didn’t want to address it.

[Did Clara give you the data feed of my current health status and the like?]

“Full access while you’re under my care. Emergency notifications only, once you’re out in the world.” He sounded as though he thought emergency alerts would be a rarity. Not if I could help it.

A wave of comfort ran through me, as my stim pack decided that my body needed more time to recover. Who was I to disagree? I closed my eyes and relaxed. Time asleep would help with my recovery magic. While my brain tried to find somewhere to settle, the doc reeled off all the injuries I had sustained, but had healed already. Not quite the bedtime story I was hoping for, but it was reassuring in some way.

Shoulder hadn’t just been dislocated, but had shattered from the socket and split along to my elbow. Minor fracture to my skull, and some burns around the parts of my body where my tactical gear was thinnest. Bruising almost head to toe… not that I had toes at the time. An extreme amount of blood loss that… something or other. I fell asleep before he could fill me with the rest of the details.

I dreamed about kittens. It was concerningly off-brand, and I willed myself awake to avoid it.

The doctor had left at some point, or had shapeshifted into Clara.

“Looking after you in shifts,” she explained, giving me a glum smile. She had pulled up a stool beside the bed and was reading through her notepad.

[How many days have I been here? Weeks?]

“Just over twenty-four hours.”

[Interesting.]

Confusing would have been a more accurate reflection of how I felt about it. I had been in and out of sleep so many times, and there was no natural light, that it felt like so much longer. The fact that I had made the recovery that I had in such a short time explained the pair of them praising me for it.

“I can feel your desire to get up and walk, Gunquake.” Her green eyes went across the pages of her notes as she flipped through the paperwork. “It would be reckless for me to allow it.”

[Would it?]

“Yes.”

I looked down at the offending limbs. Even if my body was adapting quickly, I still saw two stumps and two lumps of metal. They didn’t feel like me yet - a mental problem only time might heal.

“Doctor Jarl said that you are able to feel through your legs. While I am normally all for pushing your to your limits, Rockslide might actually murder me if I cause you further complications.”

[Speaking of Roxy, where is she? I had assumed she would have kicked the door in by now, or at least sent me a message.]

“The League is still keeping her under wraps. Despite their new narrative for the current events, they require Rockslide to stay in for… corrective measures. They are giving me only limited information, so I do not know how long she will be held for.”

She actually looked rather sad about that, which was good because I felt even worse. Part of me still had the fire within to want to burst into the League and free her. Maybe we didn’t have to stay in Goldarch. There would be other cities where we’d be the cream of the crop when it came to power, and wouldn’t need to jump through these banal hoops.

Of course, that left us on our own and under the microscope of the World Government. I was already high on their hit-list… a stronger super gone rogue would give them even more ammunition to hunt us down. Despite my growing disdain for the game that needed to be played here, we were actually building up a safety network that empowered us.

With Red Dust in the dirt, we shouldn’t need to worry about stepping outside our defined circle any more. I turned my head to the techie.

[How do you feel about everything? With Red Dust dead, I mean.]

Clara pulled a face and looked away from her notes to regard me. “It’s some degree of closure. Did he get what he deserved? Perhaps. It doesn’t bring my family back, but I’m petty enough to revel in a little vengeance. I’d… much rather you still had your legs, however.”

[Oh? I thought you’d prefer me to become more of a machine.]

She shook her head and returned to her book. “No. I care about you and…” Clara paused and looked at me again, this time with a frown on her face. “Gunquake, I am very close to asking Doctor Jarl if there is a way to allow me to physically cry, as I do not feel it is fair that you keep putting me through these situations without the capacity to express it visually.”

[I… apologize.]

“I know.” She stood up from the stool and placed her book on it. “You’ll be making it up to me soon. I’m going to the bathroom. Try not to harm yourself within the next five minutes.”

[I’ll do my best.]

I watched her leave the room; the door stopping an inch away from closing. I heard the next door to the waiting room close, but didn’t know where she went after that. Leaning forward, I looked at her notes. Something to do with my new arm. There were some magic symbols that resembled the runes from the ancient mecha, alongside sketches of the artefact we had stolen.

With a sigh, I relaxed. A brief delay to my progress, but once things started picking back up, I’d be stronger and-

The room vibrated slightly. My brow furrowed. From somewhere deep within the building, there was a bang.

Was Clara okay?

I leaned over to the side and grabbed the pen she had been using. Gun-arm chamber opened up, and I slapped it in. V-Force drive hummed into action as my heart rate increased. There was a second loud noise, this one slightly closer.

Taking in a deep breath, I slid from the bed onto the floor. The tiles felt cold, and I registered the pressure beneath my metal sole. No pain, but perhaps the adrenaline was helping with that.

A few cautious steps and I pushed through into the waiting room as a third sound echoed down from the corridor beyond the door to the left.

Overcharge hummed through my weapon as I felt dizzy and disorientated. Shotgun raised to point at the entryway ready, my throbbing heartbeat drowning out any salient thoughts.

Footsteps, and the door opened. Not Clara. Hesitation struck us both, rooting us in place.

A couple of seconds of silence passed. The person fully dressed in black with a hood pulled over their head stepped in through the opening.

I furrowed my brow, confusion across my face.

[Roxy?]