Sam's head was pounding. He felt like he'd gotten run by a pack of Sicklers before being roasted in an incompetent ogre chef's barbecue. He was struggling to even open his eyes, never mind moving his limbs. Still, he could feel he was on something... Soft? Hard? No, something soft but thin placed on something hard. The air felt weird, somewhat humid, and even moldy, and there was some abominable smell coming from somewhere.

After what felt like hours of struggling, he managed to open a small crack between his eyelids. It wasn't much but it let him appreciate the utter darkness of the room he was in. At the same time, he successfully managed to move his fingers, letting them run across whatever it was he was laying on. A bunch of pillows, if he guessed correctly.

Time passed, and despite usually being able to handle being alone the situation quickly got on Sam's nerves. Was it the grogginess fading, letting him begin to truly take in the situation? He didn't know and frankly, he didn't care. Now that the calmness of unconsciousness was gone, his usual active mind got back on track. Where was he? What happened? Why was he on a pile of pillows? Hopefully, pillows meant he wasn't dead unless whatever god that picked up his soul decided to make some budget cuts.

What was he doing? He had finished the Tech Mech, done some basic testing, decided to go on patrol, had heard screams, had found those two weirdos who had helped him out the last time, fought against a horde of weird shambling creatures that seemed right out of a mad scientist's mind, and then...

Sunburn.

The flames.

THE FLAMES-

"Squeak?"

The noise brought Sam back. He was very thankful for the distraction as he tried to figure out what it was, it sounded like some of the rats back in the Junkland but there was something different. It felt a little deeper, a little more significant, a little more... Intelligent.

Sam struggled to emit a sound for an entire minute before a weak little something left his lips.

"Hel... Hello?"

Nothing answered him, apart from the pitty patter of small feet leaving the room at an impressive speed. He didn't even have the time to ask whatever it was to stay. He tried to stand up, pushing off his torso from the pile of pillows with his weak shaking arms but his efforts were futile, immediately falling back and hurting his entire body.

It looked like he would be left alone with his thoughts once more. Taking care to avoid thinking about his encounter with Sunburn, or more precisely what happened when the Villain was done talking, Sam pondered about his life. He had tried to be a Vigilante once and dramatically failed, having to be saved from certain doom by a duo of Coreless idots who apparently had a history of running into trouble. Then, he had invested all of his resources into building the greatest weapon he could, an incredible mech that could put some of the Empress' works to shame, and managed to fight off a horde of incredibly powerful monsters to save the same pair of idiots. It all went so well, too. No issue with his creation, no casualty, the horde got stomped on so easily...

And then Sunburn.

No matter what, Sam couldn't get the Draskian cyborg out of his thoughts. That man, in a fraction of a second, had destroyed all of his hopes and dreams. A single attack, one he hadn't even seen coming. Was this his fate? To always fall at the hands of a Villain whenever things went his way? What was the point of fighting if it always ended in defeat? Why try to resist when it always failed. Why live.

"Ah, I see you're awake."

Sam perked up. Someone was there. The voice sounded male, smooth, calm yet in control. It sounded human, but there was something. A nameless and silent echo behind every word, something that spoke not to him but something within him. Or something linked to him?

"Who... Who are you?"

"My name doesn't matter right now. What matters, however, is yours."

"My name... I'm..."

Who was he, really? Some grandiose hero of justice and technology or...

"Sam... I'm Sam..."

"Sam? Well then Sam, what happened to you?"

"I... I was stupid... Tried to play hero... Eh... Look where it got me..."

"Ah, so you're not a Villain then?"

"No... I'm nothing..."

"Oh, if you truly were nothing then you wouldn't exist now, would you?"

Was... Was that a threat? Sam couldn't be sure. His fatigued eyes and the darkness of the room made it hard to even distinguish the silhouette of the man he was talking to, so reading his body language was out of the question.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"I must say, I'm no expert on mechanics, but that robot you were in was impressive."

"Not a robot... A mech..."

"Ah, pardon me. I'm not familiar with all of the correct terms to use. Even so, it resisted really well to that inferno you were in. It may be the only reason why you're still alive now. That and your... Armor? Suit? Augments? Mods?"

"Armor..."

"Ah, I had it right the first time. As I said, it saved you."

"I don't feel like I've been saved..."

"Well, most people who are heavily burned feel this way I believe."

"Burned..."

"I tried my best, but the fire had already spread. The heat was also so intense that by the time I got to you, the puddle of melted plastic was too widespread to ignore."

"Puddle... Melted plastic?"

"It... I am no medical professional, and I don't trust any of the local healers, so I had to try my best."

"What did you do..."

"Nothing you wouldn't have wanted, I assure you."

"Answer me..."

"..."

"I said..."

"I had to skin you."

"Wha..."

"I took a clean knife, an enchanted one, and cut off the layer of skin that was covered by plastic. I removed as much of it as I could by hand when it was still hot, but it cooled down..."

"You ripped off my skin..."

"I cut it off. I'm no barbarian."

"How bad is it..."

"Well, that and the regulars burns put together..."

"Could you... Show me? Or put on any light..."

"Ah, I forgot how dark this room may be for you. Wait for a second, I'll be right back."

Oddly enough Sam heard no footstep heading out of the room. Even the rat had made some noise. Had the man lied or was he an expert in stealth? Or maybe Sam's senses had simply gone into overdrive after thinking back on... The flames...

But who was this man? What he said sounded like he had saved Sam from the fire, yet he hadn't seen anyone nearby when Sunburn appeared. And apparently, he had some kind of night vision, since he had no trouble seeing in the dark? Where were they anyway? Some kind of basement?

A light brightness appeared in the distance, held by a spindly limb of a black figure. The light was soft, easy on the eyes, and let Sam see a bit more of the place he was in. It hadn't even registered on his mind that he straightened his back and was now sitting, so preoccupied with what he saw.

Black bricks. On the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. Beautifully carved, they looked like they were made of some kind of marble. Was Sam in some kind of underground church of the dark gods? A cultist hideout? How could a building look this fancy and yet be completely empty? It was incredibly off-putting.

And then there was the figure. His savior, Sam supposed. It looked vaguely humanoid, with a head on a torso, but everything besides that was an eldritch nightmare. The limb holding the lantern was a tentacle coming out of the figure's shadow, or was it its body? The two appeared to melt together in the light of the lantern. For all Sam knew the creature standing before him might very well be the shadow while the one on the ground was the real body.

What horrible fate awaited him?

"I hope you'll pardon the decor. Visitors are few, and I'll admit we live without much."

"It's... It's fine."

"Now, how about we get back on track. As I said, your wounds were extensive, and it took a lot of work to get all of that plastic and the occasional piece of metal away, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't ruin your bandages."

Now that the figure mentioned it, Sam looked down to see his arms, torso, and legs covered in white cloth. Running his fingers on his back and his head let him feel similar bandages there.

"I... I didn't feel them..."

"Likely a side effect from the burns."

"Or you ripping my skin off."

"Or that. As I said, I'm no medical professional."

"Yeah, that one's obvious."

The figure chuckled.

"In any case, what do you plan to do now?"

"I... I can leave?"

"Oh, you're free to do so of course."

"I... I just kinda assumed you were going to sacrifice me to a dark god or something."

"I do not approve of this kind of discrimination, but I can't deny this place is not the pinnacle of welcoming."

"Sorry, sir...?"

"Ah, sir will do. So, you plan to leave? And then?"

"I... I don't know."

"If you wish to talk about it..."

"It's just... All my life I've wanted to be a hero, to help people, to save them from monsters."

"Ah, so you wish to join the Union?"

"Not a Hero, a hero. I don't want to be a supercop, I want to help people. Get rid of dangers."

"Ah, Vigilante then?"

"Yeah, it's what I tried but... You saw the results."

"Yes, indeed. I saw a beautiful piece of improvised machinery."

Now he was getting on his nerves. Couldn't he see Sam was down and didn't want some stupid encouragement? He wasn't a kid who made a bad drawing, he was someone who just lost everything and got horribly disfigured.

"You saw a burning wreckage."

"Maybe, but you could try again."

"How? I have nothing left. All I've had went into this thing."

"You know... I could always use someone with your skills."

That was it.

"And who the hell are you? You keep avoiding the question!."

The figure slithered away, giving Sam some room.

"You may call me... Silhouette."

"Well, 'Silhouette', I still know nothing about you, for all I know you could be a Villain. Why would I want to work for you?"

"I can pay you. As for what I want..."

----------------------------------------

What do I want?

The teen's question had awakened something in James. So far, he had lived day by day, never worrying about the long-term, but the kid had a point. What did James want to do with this second life, past surviving? Open a pizzeria? Become a politician? A Hero? There were so many paths available to him, which one was the right one?

What do I want?

Security, for sure. There was a reason he'd been so cautious at first, and still was. By all accounts, he could simply try to go to the main city via the sewers and find himself a place there, yet he had chosen to stay in the slums. In their little hidey-hole.

What do I want?

Their home.

"What I want is to make a home. A safe place. Somewhere I won't worry about tomorrow, about pain, about hate, about violence. A little somewhere for the lost to take a rest. For new lives to begin."

James put a tentacle on the teen's shoulder, taking care to avoid touching his wounds.

"A place with no danger. Where everyone has their chances."

The teen, Sam, stayed silent for a few seconds.

"What do you need?"

"Well, setting up a light system would be nice, not everyone can see in the dark."

"I'm a technology expert, not an electrician."

"Well, what can you do then?"

The teen grinned.

"Let me show you what Techlord can do."