Quinn stared fearfully at the man looming over him with a lit cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth. He had no idea who this person was, but judging by the atmosphere alone, he could tell he wasn't in a good situation.
"Who..." he gulped nervously, "who are you?"
The man took a drag of his cigar and exhaled a cloud of smoke, further filling the air with a hazy fog. He studied Quinn for a moment before answering, "Call me Virgil. And you're Quinn, correct? Fii's friend."
How does he know that? And why is he talking about Fii? Is she in trouble?
"I don't know who that is," Quinn lied.
"Come now, boy, we both know that's not true," Virgil chuckled, his face hidden within the shadows cast by the flickering light above. "Just tell me what I want to hear, and I might let you go without breaking too many bones." He placed his hand on the table, drumming his fingers impatiently. "And if you'd rather be stubborn, I could always beat the information out of you."
Quinn flinched at the threat, instinctively shrinking away, his back pressing against his chair. "Why do you want to know about Fii? What are you planning to do with her? She hasn't done anything wrong."
"Interesting...and noble, if foolish," Virgil observed coolly. "Protecting a friend, despite the risks involved." He paused, taking another draw of his cigar, letting the smoke billow around his face before exhaling. "But I wonder...how loyal is that friendship, eh, boy? Would you betray her if your life depended on it? Or are you truly willing to risk your own well-being for someone else?"
Is this guy crazy? Of course, he'd protect Fii.
Sure, they'd only met recently, but despite the short time they'd known each other, Quinn considered her a friend. She saved his life. There was no way he'd turn against her. And besides, the slums only reward those who survive. Betrayal only benefits yourself. And those that do don't often live long anyway.
"Look, buddy, I don't know what your problem is with Fii, but I ain't saying squat." Quinn crossed his arms defensively and leaned back, crossing his legs, acting as nonchalant as possible despite the situation. "So, either start explaining why you're after her or fuck off."
Virgil let out another chuckle, clearly amused by Quinn's brazen response.
Suddenly, Virgil pulled out his gun and aimed it at him, cocking the hammer.
"Tsk, tsk, you wanna run that by me again? Last chance. Talk now or else." Virgil narrowed his eyes, fixing Quinn with a deathly stare.
Shit! This guy's serious!
Quinn grunted as he slammed his foot against the table, flipping it up and over. He lunged for Virgil, grabbing his wrist and squeezing tightly to stop him from pulling the trigger.
However, the older man's strength proved to be superior, and he flung Quinn to the ground like a ragdoll, pinning him to the concrete with a boot firmly planted on his chest. He grinned as he squeezed the trigger, aiming the gun right at Quinn's forehead.
Damn...well, at least I tried. Guess this is it.
Quinn closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable sound of a gunshot to ring out. However, nothing came. He slowly opened his eyes to find Virgil studying him intently, his finger still hovering over the trigger.
"You got balls, I'll give you that." He removed his foot, allowing Quinn to sit up. "Maybe I underestimated you."
"What's going on?" Quinn asked, bewildered by Virgil's change in attitude. "You gonna tell me why you were asking me about Fii now, or you gonna threaten me again?"
Virgil put his gun back into the holster and flipped the table upright again before sitting down opposite Quinn. He crossed his legs and took another puff of his cigar, seemingly content to relax now after the brief confrontation.
"Alright, alright. Maybe you're not the one I should be threatening. Besides, I think you've proved yourself more than enough. I'm a friend of hers, you could say. A guardian. Sort of, anyway." Virgil leaned forward and met Quinn's gaze. "My main priority is her safety. So, I just wanna make sure she's in good hands. Do you understand?"
Quinn blinked in surprise. This guy was trying to protect Fii? Then where the hell was he when those Gully Rats attacked them earlier? They both could've been killed.
"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Quinn demanded. "How can I trust you if you threatened to shoot me a minute ago? Who are you?"
"Does the name 'Backfire' ring a bell?"
Backfire? Who doesn't know that name? He was an infamous gunslinger who tried establishing a police force in the slums a decade ago. Got most of the major gangs under control for a while but eventually wound up disappearing. A lot of rumors spread about his death.
Wait...gunslinger? Cowboy? This guy fits the description. Holy shit. Does that mean...?
Virgil smirked knowingly. "Smart kid."
"Oh, wow...I, um...oh." Quinn sat there, flabbergasted.
Fii was friends with the legendary Backfire?!
"Now that we've established who I am and why I'm here, let's continue our discussion, shall we?" Virgil rested his elbows on top of the table and folded his hands together.
Quinn tried to speak, but Virgil held up a finger, silencing him. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I want honest answers. Understand?" His tone brooked no argument.
"Yes, sir, I understand," Quinn mumbled obediently.
"Good. First, tell me about your relationship with Fii. How long have you known her?"
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"Um, I've only met her a couple of times. The first time was a while ago. I happened to come across her at the water towers. We had a brief talk. Then today was the second time, when we delivered a package together."
Virgil nodded thoughtfully. "So, you only met her recently. What did you think of her? Did she strike you as anything out of the ordinary? Different from the usual girl?"
"Different how?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Quinn. I know you've seen Fii's power. And the way you acted after that brawl with the Gully Rats, you clearly have questions. Spit them out."
The memory of Fii fighting off those thugs replayed in Quinn's mind, replaying again and again. "It's...it's hard to explain," he stammered, struggling to piece his thoughts together. "When I first met Fii, there was something different about her, but I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was. Today, when she saved me, that confirmed it for me. She's a Meta, is she?"
Virgil took a long, thoughtful drag of his cigar before exhaling the smoke through his nostrils. "And how do you feel about that fact?"
"About what fact? That Fii is a Meta?" Quinn shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm cool with it. So what if she's a Meta? Who cares? It doesn't make any difference to me." He scratched his head absentmindedly. "If anything, it makes her special. Someone worth knowing. There aren't any Metas in the slums except—"
Hold on.
There was another Meta in the slums. Axion. He heard that she was a Super who came from the slums, and from the one time he spoke with her, he got the sense that she might've been a local, too.
Is Fii—? No, that can't be. Could she be...?
"Aaaand you figured it out. Well done," Virgil complimented mockingly, applauding sarcastically. "So, what are you going to do with this information, hm?"
Wait...so Fii really is Axion?!
Quinn gaped in disbelief. "Oh...oh crap. I was right?"
"Yup, good job, bub. Now, if you'd be so kind as to answer my next question. What do you plan to do with what you've learned?"
"Nothing," Quinn declared resolutely, straightening himself. "I promised her that I'd keep this a secret. And I intend to keep that promise." He met Virgil's icy glare. "Besides, as far as I'm concerned, we're all in the same boat. All of us who live in the slums are victims of circumstance. Just trying to make ends meet and survive another day."
A faint smirk flashed across Virgil's face, disappearing so quickly Quinn could've imagined it.
"Very good." Virgil leaned back and rested his boots on top of the table. "Glad we're on the same page."
Quinn breathed a sigh of relief, glad he seemed to have earned the man's approval. However, one question remained that nagged at his mind.
"Can I ask you something, too, mister?" Quinn inquired carefully. "What is your connection to Fii? What's your stake in all of this?"
Virgil scoffed. "Hmph, straightforward and honest, yet cunning enough to seek leverage. Impressive." He stubbed his cigar butt out on the table and tossed it aside. "Simply put, I'm her mentor, trainer, and overseer. The one responsible for making her the hero you see today."
Quinn raised an eyebrow skeptically. "The one behind Axion? Really?"
"Yep. But unlike her, I prefer to work in the background. Stay out of the spotlight. I handle logistics, training, tactical support, and surveillance." Virgil explained as if he'd rehearsed the spiel a hundred times over. "You could say I'm an enabler in her journey. And now we've come to the second reason why I came here to speak with you."
"Huh? Second reason? What do you mean?"
"You know her identity, and based on what I've just seen, you're not just a typical street rat. You've been working to try and make the slums a better place, haven't you?" Virgil gestured at the various projects lying on the tables. "Repairing broken tech, creating new things, and trying to improve the conditions here. You could say you have a bit of an altruistic streak in you."
Quinn rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Y-yeah, but not like it's been easy. Not with the gangs running wild, doing whatever they want. Trying to make things better around here, helping out whoever I can, is something I do in my spare time. It's tough, but I try."
"Of course, I get it, and I can appreciate that. You've got talent, kid. Too bad there are so few people like you in these parts. So, I want you to join us." Virgil clapped his hands together loudly, startling Quinn with the sudden gesture. "You're a good fighter, and you've got smarts, too. We could use someone like you."
Join them? As in, become a hero like Fii? But he wasn't a Meta. He couldn't fight or do anything incredible like her. All he could do was fix and repair stuff. There was no point in recruiting him.
"Me? Become a Super?" Quinn scoffed and shook his head. "That's ridiculous. I can't do what you guys do. I'm not a Meta. And I can barely hold my own in a fight."
"Being a Meta isn't everything, Quinn. Not by a long shot," Virgil stated bluntly. "Having powers isn't necessary to be a hero. The same goes for being strong, fast, smart, or talented. It takes heart, dedication, and willingness to stand up for those in need, no matter how small or insignificant they may be. Anyone can be a hero. All you need is the will to help others, no matter what."
Quinn stayed silent, digesting those words.
"The world's full of assholes, and most people only care about themselves. The slums are full of those kinds of folks. The same goes for the metropolis. You probably know that already. The problem with humanity is that we tend to care too much about the little things, neglecting the important things right in front of us."
Virgil tapped his finger against his temple as he pondered for a moment before continuing. "So, if nobody else bothers to take action, that responsibility falls on the shoulders of those with a conscience and moral character. People like you and me. If nobody helps the slums, and nobody saves the city, then there's nothing left. Understand? Everyone has a part to play. Even if they think they can't contribute much."
"I guess, but..." Quinn trailed off.
"Believe me, you'd make an excellent partner. Especially since you've already formed a bond with Fii. Your presence will help keep her grounded." He crossed his arms and gave Quinn an appraising glance. "Honestly, I'm impressed by your capabilities and skills. Even with only one eye, you manage to do things most kids in the slums never learn. You can operate heavy machinery, repair utilities, and even do basic combat, apparently."
"Mmm, I suppose, yeah." Quinn admitted sheepishly. "But what makes you so sure that I'll be useful? Sure, I can help fix a few broken generators or pipes, but that won't stop the gang wars or clean the streets. Isn't that what Supers do?"
"We can't do everything ourselves. Even Supers need assistants." Virgil gave him a sly grin. "Making the slums a better place ain't just about cleaning out the garbage. It's about inspiring others to do their part too. I reckon with a bit of coaching and training, you could be a decent hero someday. Nothing big and fancy, but helpful in your own right."
"Hero, huh...you really think so?" Quinn wondered, weighing the notion. "Never really considered it before. Never had a reason to. Most days, I spend trying to figure out how to stay alive, you know?"
"I get that. It's difficult for everyone," Virgil commiserated, "but the time has come for the slums to change. If you can't get the help you need from the metropolis, then you've gotta step up and take matters into your own hands. The time for passivity is over. All that remains is action. Take a stand." He extended his hand towards Quinn. "Will you join us?"
It wasn't often he'd had a profound conversation about philosophy, society, and morality in general. But he couldn't help but agree with Virgil's stance. If this was an attempt to recruit him, he'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. If this guy had been a gang leader instead of a vigilante, he'd likely be leading a criminal empire right now.
"Well, I've always wanted to do more," Quinn admitted, accepting Virgil's offer. "Make a difference, in any way I can. I don't care about fame or glory, I just wanna do what's right."
Virgil smiled proudly. "Then welcome aboard."
They shook hands firmly. The older man's grip almost crushed Quinn's hand, but he endured the pain with a grimace and kept shaking. When they separated, he flexed his fingers to ease the lingering soreness.
"Alright, now that we've gotten that settled," Virgil remarked, rubbing his hands together, "let's discuss how we're going to get you ready for this gig, shall we?"