Gondo found himself walking through the halls of the Solar Psychic Academy. He had missed a semester, and was unsure where his new class assignments were. Other students breezed confidently around him to bustle into the open doors along the hallway, but the layout of this area was different now and he had no idea which way to go. The bell rang to start the period and the doors began to shut all along the hallway. He rushed to the closest door just as it slammed closed and began banging on it, an ultimate feeling of stress and helplessness overcoming him.

  “Hey Gondo,” he heard quietly from behind him. He turned to see a large floating yellow orb bobbing lightly in the corridor in front of him.

  “I’d like to help you, Gondo. But I need your trust. You are in danger, Gondo. You have to be ready. THEY ARE COMING.”

  ...

  In a high-end coffee shop just below a district of luxury stacks in the upper crust of the Endless City, a well-dressed man sat, scanning the feeds on his holopad. The shop sat above the clouds and a perfect blue sky could be seen peeking through the stacks. Air taxis and luxury sky cars cruised by the large windows.

  He took a sip of his latte and then raised his lower lip to suck the foam from his bristly mustache. An alert flashed across the screen and he suddenly spat the entire mouthful of coffee in a cloud.

  “Lead Suspect in Recent Ourobouros Terror Attacks Wanted Dead or Alive”

  The bounty listed was astronomical. Enough to buy the entire stack above him. Enough to move off world.

  He was suddenly very aware of the cold metal sitting at his hip.

  He got up and left his coffee sitting on the table, hurrying out the door.

  ...

  The Viper’s Den was situated deep in the Marshes. Local law enforcement left this area to the Snake Clan, for good reason. There was a death order in place for anyone non-affiliated that stepped into their territory.

  Hazza was leaning over the balcony of a fighting pit, surrounded by fellow killers, a hand full of credits clutched in his fist.

  The two robots in the ring took turns bashing each other in the head, sparks flying with each blow. Finally, the robot in red spun and delivered a punishing roundhouse to the blue robot’s chest. A roar went up through the crowd as its entire torso went flying into the stands, leaving its head and appendages to fall to the floor. Hazza lowered his head with a groan. He bet on blue.

  A bookie came through and Hazza reluctantly gave up his wad of cash. That was the last of it. His fantasy of taking Magda to a private room tonight with a couple fresh vials of Trina was as dead as the smoking chunks of metal lying in that ring.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Just then an alert went up on each of the screens around the pit. They quickly swapped from robot battle statistics and rankings to a single news bulletin. A target, and a handsome bounty.

  Hazza reached up to his visor and set a meeting place for all the generals in his crew. He grinned. Maybe he would be meeting up with Magda soon after all.

  ...

  Throughout the Endless City, across the jumble of space stations orbiting the planet, all the way to the syndicate headquarters on Luna, the alert went out. Beady eyed low-lives, trained bounty hunters, and corporate executives of private military contractors all had credit signs in their eyes.

  One billion credits for one person, dead or alive. Gondo Macready was now a wanted man.

  He sat with his friends in the Safe House lounge. He was hunched forward, his eyes trained on the news feeds. Ignasius was lowered onto a small pedestal where he liked to park himself while they were relaxing, but his light was bright and unwavering. Lowell was poring over security system checks on their handheld holo screen.

  He had just been telling them about the strange dream he had awoken from when the bulletin hit.

  “A billion credits! Bravo my good man!” Ignasius boomed out, “Although they say nothing about his handsome metal associate.”

  Lowell adjusted their spectacles. “That kind of bounty will have every scum bag merc in the system on our trail. We can go ahead and assume our position to be compromised. Gondo, I think it's time you suited up.”

  Since the battle, the crew had been working diligently on a control system for the weaponized Moonshield. Lowell had refined a new version that worked within a custom suit that Ignasius had developed in his workshop.

  Gondo rose and walked to a tall archway that had been erected near the Hanger, and Ignasius followed. Gondo then held his arms out and spread his legs slightly apart in a Da Vinci pose. Articulated arms unfolded in the archway and began to attach the armor.

  “You’ll find each piece to be remarkably light, internal servos are activated to prevent the suit from weighing down your body,” Igansius said. The suit contracted onto him, outlining his tall physique. It was the same light blue as his radiation cloak.

  The arms began locking steel grey gauntlets, boots and various pads onto the outer portion of the suit. A belt locked into place, along with a high collar that continued into a flowing cape.

  Finally, a new version of his Iron Crown was lowered onto his head. His original Cognitive Crown was frightfully heavy, but luckily this version was so light it felt like it was made of foam. A readout of the suits systems appeared in the lower right corner of his vision.

  “I love the cape!” Gondo said as he did a little twirl. The cape spun with him, eliciting giggles from the pair.

  Lowell stepped towards them and admired the suit. “Well, you are officially a super hero,” they stated, laughing.

  The suit’s high collar concealed an injector unit that would deliver a steady flow of Moonshield into Gondo’s system. Not a huge blast like the syringe, but a gradual drip. In testing, this had increased the amount of time that he could maintain the power surge.

  They had been able to fast track experimentation by testing psychically charged molecules instead of Gondo’s full mind and body. That way they could refine the formula without draining him. It was similar to the way Lowell had developed the original version. There were now two compounds; one for the physical world and one for the astral plane.

  The same micro-mechanics employed in Igansius chassis were webbed into the suits structure. When Gondo’s psionic force started to decline they would activate, and remove him from danger.

  Just then the alarm system of the Safe House began to strobe the area with red light. Security reported multiple contacts at each entrance.

  Igansius turned to Gondo. “Let’s see what you’re made of, hero.”