I waited as the uber arrived. I know it might seem strange for a detective to use uber to get around, but I did not have a drivers license. Its hard to drive when the road is where most of the dead people are.

The uber showed up after about 10 minutes. The driver was a middle aged asian man I desided to name Mike. Mike did not comment on the costume so he got a ten out of ten in my books.

"Hey, could you step on it? A newbie hero is about to get himself killed."

The man chucked as if I had just told a joke. I wasn't actually sure if I had. Maybe I had on accident? I wasn't sure. Dark humor was a lot more commen in Wer then New vegas.

"I'm not joking." I said, and he just gave me a strange grin that showed off all his teeth. I knew it wasn't met to be a threatening gesture, but I did not care.

I pulled out my license.

"This is a hero certificate from The SRF. Per article 159-1A any transportion service is required to bring a hero to their destination post haste. You will not be fined or suffer legal allegation for breaking any trafic laws. However should you be determined to have failed to bring a hero to their destination you will be fined no less then 139 U.S dollars."

The man gulped and promptly sped off, turning on the blinkers that signaled to other drivers that he was transporting a hero. All transportation services where required to have those lights.

The law id just used was a provision really meant for underaged superheros. It still applied to me as a hero who could not drive. Getting a drivers license was hard when you kept seeing dead people on the road.

Eventually the cab made it as close as was safe to were my ghost friend had said the newbie would be. I got out and tipped the relieved cab driver.

Pro tip: when you truamitize someone its polite to tip them.

"Heya boy. Whatcha doin on are side of the block?" A feminine voice said to what I assumed was the newbie.

Great... he'd managed to piss of "Riders of the great one". One of Wers many cults, the difference between this cult and the rest you might ask?

They actually had eldritch powers.

The hightech knight was sourounded on all sides by a group of cloaked men and women. The speaker, a grey older lady with her hands crackling with a sickley green electricity.

The knight wannabe seemed to be kneeling as his breath labored. His armor had a few holes in it. Honestly I was a bit surprised. An eldritch blast could easily put a hole through a tank.

Durable armor or no, he looked to be in a bit of trouble. I counted 6 in total.

They where gonna wish they brought 60.

I moved in to the nearest cultist in a sprint slaming his head into the nearby wall. Then before he could react I slammed his head two more times before letting him slump to the ground.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Just as the other cultist moved to react I gave a bit of psychic will allowing my ghostly helpers to take on corparial form. They immediately grabbed two of the cultist holding them down.

I rushed at the remaining three ducking as arrant eldritch blasts were thrown my way. Then pushing off the pavement I charged into the cultist closest to me.

I grabbed the man by the shoulder and kneed him in the crotch. Grabed his head by the hair and slamed his head into one of his fellow cultist throwing off their aim.

Then turned and grabbed my blades throwing them at the final cultist pinning her to the nearest wall by her cloak.

As I made my way over to her I stomped on the cultist who had been trapped by his friends unconscious body.

I stopped, hestitated, and stomped on his head again because I felt like it.Then made my way over to nameless cultist number 3.

"The great one will-" Before she could finish I slapped her.

"Will do nothing because I'm not a teenage schoolgirl so I doubt the "great one" cares." I replied before punching her in the face repeatedly.

"Oi! Newbie you okay?"

"Yeah... I think" He replied his voice augmented by whatever tech bullshit made up his suit.

"Good. Your sleeping at my agency tonight." I told him in a tone that brokered no argument.

"Do I get a say in this"

I gave him a flat look. He got the message and let me help him walk to nearby bench. I didn't know people made benches in alleyway's.

I guess even drug dealers and murderer's needed a place to sit after a hard day of crimes.

I called an uber and was surprised to see the face of the guy who dropped me off. Upon seeing me and my friend his welcome smile dropped to a look of disappointment.

"Lonly_Cutie" he asked with the hopeful voice of someone who really hoped he was at the wrong spot.

"Yep that would be me." I replied cheerfully much to the man's chagrin. I helped the newbie into the car before taking a seat myself.

"So he's a superhero to?" He asked and I replied with a thumbs up. The silence that lingered was oprresive.

Had I said something wrong?

"So whats your name" I said defaulting to polite mode as I couldn't handle the akward silence.

"Terry. Yours? Or uh... your hero name?" He asked stumbling a bit at the end.

"I go by Seventh Sense these days" I replied casually.

"Knight...Errant" was the newbies reply. I attempted to put their names to my gray matter.

"Ter-" I failed immediately and decided I'd just call them newbie and driver.

Names were overrated anyways. I opted to look out the window when the akward silence returned.

Wer passed me by and I took note of its many buildings, back alleys, trashy parks, and even a brothel that was not trying to hard to conceal itself.

Eventually we made to the front of ny little office. It was an unassuming building being only about twice the size of a typical gas station.

Its glass window prominently displayed the words:

"Lonely Soul's detective agency: living or dead we will solve your case"

One new addition brought a scowl to my face. Sitting in the guest area was a person I did not want to see.

"The couch is in the back, I got medishots in the medicine cabinet." I said to knight who seemed to be doing a little bit better. He could at least walk on his own now.

Looking at his soul, I was surprised to find that it was healing. Eldritch bolts usually took days to heal the soul damage one caused if it hit you.

Maybe the suit had some kind of soul regeneration?

It wasn't something I knew existed and I was getting more and more intrested in the newbies hardware. I made a mental note as I opened the doors.

Sitting in the guest area was an older man in his 50s or 60s. Despite his age he was in good health and still sported muscles that would make a WWE wrestler green with envy.

His hair and beard were trimmed to a military standered, all accented by a trench coat complete with military jeans, bulletproof vest, and boots. With the final accessories being a blank gray mask.

He was the sleuth. The greatest detective in the world come to visit my humble abode.

I stared at him with a scowl.

"What no text?' I asked in the most venomous voice I could muster.

"You know me, I'm old fashion and prefer a good old face to face." He said and I could almost see the cheeky grin he was probably giving behind the mask.

"Hey dad. Nice to see you. Now tell why you're here."