I hummed to myself as the smell of fresh coffee wafted through the kitchen on this beautiful sunny morning. The super sat across from me, eating her way through some porridge with a smile on her face. Clara was putting down some food for the kitten, but had enough time to shoot us both a glare.

  “The pair of you are way too chipper this morning, and I’d hate to imagine why.” She stood up as Warlock dug in to his breakfast.

  “Just a huge weight off my shoulders,” Roxy explained. “You knew how I felt about my… information chamber.”

  “I thought the fact that you’d hide it from Gunquake was preposterous, but was duty-bound to keep your secret.” The techie shrugged and sat at the table. “Now that it’s out in the open, I hope we can use it for something more useful than making you look insane, Rockslide.”

  “Perhaps. I’m not much of a detective, so actually using all those facts for something useful was…” She ran her tongue around her teeth in thought. “Unlikely.”

  [I wouldn’t sell myself as a private eye either, but I’m sure we can work out some use for all that information.]

  “Other than plotting to murder everyone,” Clara murmured.

  It did look like the second half of my murder-hovel. While I had the grim decay of a serial killer, Roxy had the fervent planning and manic desire to scrape every detail about our potential targets. Paired together, well, we were both a boon and a possible detriment to the runnings of Goldarch.

  [What do you reckon, Clara? Do you think the three of us could make it as villains?]

  The techie pulled a face. “No. Our location is disadvantageous unless we retreated further into the wastelands. The League has at least five ways they could kill us through our defenses without affecting the city - if they knew we had gone rogue.”

  I had no reason to doubt her. We thought that we were big shots, but there must be an upper crust of power we hadn’t even crossed paths with yet. Aside from chemical bombs and other traditional ways of wiping us off the map, there were probably a few supers that could ruin our day before we'd even perfected our evil cackles.

  “League is just lucky they won us over,” Roxy said, as she put down her spoon. “If we put our brains to it, the three of us could be real dangerous.”

  [Do you think the Natural Disasters would join us?]

  The super pulled a face. “Hard to say. They’re friends and more loyal than most super groups are, but… we’re talking about making enemies with some of the most powerful people on the continent. League is a shitter sometimes, but it’s better to be coddled by them than to be opposed.”

  Plus, we’d be kind of on our own if that was the case. World Government wanted me dead or captured and was even harsher on rogue supers than the League of Heroes were. As much as I thought we could hold our own better than most, going against the world wasn’t on the cards.

  [Speaking of that, my constant troll has started referring to us as Natural Dicktasters. That feels illegal.]

  Roxy rolled her eyes and stood. She turned and put her bowl in the sink. “I thought you’d have thicker skin, babe. You’re not going to let some weasel with a dirty mouth ruin the day, I hope? I’m going to go do some laps. Wanna join?”

  I grunted.

  [No, thank you. Normally I would, but after a long patrol last night I want to give my legs a rest, just in case.]

  “Fair enough.” The super leaned over the counter and gave me a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room.

  Once I was sure she had left the house and started her jog, I raised an eyebrow at the techie.

  [I’m going to need you to get me his address.]

  “Are we talking about the troll, or perhaps some other figure whose information you read from Rockslide’s database?” Clara crossed her arms, knowing what was down there and what I could have seen.

  I hadn’t brought up that I’d seen the name of Roxy’s ex with either of them. Not that I planned on doing anything with that information at present. Much like a Sanguine stake, it was some ammunition I’d save for when the time really required it. I had much bigger fish to fry than that asshole.

  [The troll. Bumquake.]

  “I’ll remind you that despite being a tech prodigy and literal genius, I am not a computer hacker, Gunquake.”

  [It’s fine - I can find someone else if you’re not able to help me.]

  Clara rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’ll get you the information, but you have better things to do. Do you not? Have you checked the headlines?”

  [I have not. Anything bad?]

  “The most relevant would be speculation about you and Rockslide being a couple, and there’s a story about how you were pretending to do charity work as you just dumped items in an alley.”

  [Media is bullshit. This is why I need to take things into my own hand. Send me the information when you can.]

  I got up and left the room before she could respond, mostly for dramatic effect. The truth was that I didn’t mind if people insulted me, but bringing the rest of the group into it crossed the line. If the League was trying to sell me as an anti-hero, then I’d play that part a lot better than trying to be straight-edge.

  It was my day off, and Roxy had her patrol mid-afternoon till late evening. Clara had some work with Doctor Jarl planned. I had time to kill and a mounting list of enemies. Maybe not enemies. Just people that needed putting in their place.

  My eyes went up to a notification pinging through.

  //Stacy: Good news, Gunquake.

  //Stacy: Director Kingston has just had some availability open up.

  //Stacy: If you’re able to get to HQ in an hour?

  //Gunquake: Not a problem, I’ll be there.

  Well, there was something for me to do - and an excuse to be in the city. I sent the details over to Roxy to let her know, and then I went up to the bathroom to start getting ready for my meeting.

  Fully suited up, it turned out to be more difficult to drive the Meteor around the city during the daytime. If we hadn’t been plastered all over the news for a couple of days, people might assume they were under attack. I had asked Clara if we could get away with having a cannon or something attached on top, but the League had a hard no stance on that amount of weaponry.

  A detachable weapon, so that we could arm ourselves for the wasteland, was a different matter. As it stood, I just had to avoid running straight over civilian vehicles. Stressful, but with some focus I was entirely successful.

  Parking it was an issue as well, so as I cursed the hulking vehicle outside of HQ, I made note to use the motorbike during the day.

  I sat outside the Director’s office, aching to know the next time we’d be put to our secondary task. Things might not be settled enough yet, but the machinations of those opposing Goldarch weren’t going to wait for my schedule to clear up.

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  The door opened up, and I stood to enter. His long office had the usual display screens running along it, showing off stocks, popularity ratings, and hero rankings. Graphs and percentage trends. I didn’t care much about the data at this stage. My purpose here was entirely different.

  “Gunquake,” he said, gesturing for me to sit opposite him, across his cluttered table. “A pleasure, as always. My apologies for not being able to see you sooner.”

  [Not an issue. There are many gears keeping the city running, the squeakiest shouldn’t get the most attention.]

  “Depends how functionally important they are,” he replied with a wry smile. He flexed out his fingers and used an ability. The walls shimmered with a faint glow, signaling we had increased privacy here. “I assume this isn’t a social call.”

  [I’ve come to request some equipment.]

  He tilted his head. “There are other official avenues for that sort of thing. I do not personally tick the boxes off on what you can or can’t have.”

  [But you can put those boxes in front of people who are eager tickers.]

  Kingston steepled his fingers. “Perhaps. What is it you are asking from me, Gunquake? The other Directors are already alert about you getting preferential treatment, and you should be thankful we have turned a blind eye over the A-Grade legs you received.”

  [I’d still be bed-bound if it wasn’t for the graces of Doctor Jarl. The League should be thankful that I’m not out of commission given the other assistance I provide.]

  “Fair. If I come across as a wet blanket, it is because the politics of the inner machinations of the League are often tiring and juvenile. I admire your pragmatic view and intentions, but if I could just snap my fingers and have a hero solve all my problems, it would have been done years ago.”

  [Maybe there are some problems I could solve, to ease your mind.]

  He sighed. “What is it you are after, first?”

  [I’ve long been allergic to bullets, and I feel it’s going to affect my work life.]

  “A common weakness. For some heroes more than others, but I’ll admit your work will put you in contention with those armed as such at a higher frequency that other heroes.” Kingston furrowed his brow. “There’s been an increase in illegal firearms in the city over the last few weeks.”

  [You don’t know who is providing them?]

  “No.” He leaned back in his chair. “Contrary to the belief of cynics, the League does not control or influence all criminal activity within Goldarch. When it comes to unregistered weaponry, there tends to be an unacceptable amount of collateral to the general public.”

  [Sign off on me getting something defensive, and I’ll find out who is importing the guns and stop them. Your choice on how many fatalities.]

  “Zero, Gunquake.” Kingston shook his head. “Always zero when within city limits, especially now that you’re a recognizable hero. If you get caught murdering—no matter who—I won’t be able to save you. You’ll be locked up or banished.”

  [I’m a vigilante, though - right? I can still be somewhat of an asshole.]

  “If you can manage to be likable enough for the general public to root for you, then being rough around the edges is fine. I saw the news article about you feigning care, and that won’t win you any favors. Thankfully, it was one of the… lesser news outlets that is only read by those that crave drama and aren't as picky about the facts.”

  [All the outlets with more journalistic integrity are owned by the League of Heroes?]

  He smiled. “There are many heroes that go soft, placated with the easier life we provide them. I hope you are able to stay so sharp once the life or death stakes start becoming a distant memory.”

  No chance of that when he wanted me to go on missions against mutants and the World Government. If anything, my nicer life back home just made me want to get stronger to ensure I could keep it safe. It wasn’t enough that we were a strong, nigh indestructible hero, a regenerating super soldier, tech mastermind, and affable kitten. We could be more. My eyes went over to the group ranking list. There we were, at the bottom still.

  But not for long.

  [Do I need to worry about going into the wastelands anytime soon?]

  “Nothing is on the cards as of yet. The Gov seems to be taking a step back from things after your last few exploits. That, or planning something we haven’t had eyes or ears on.”

  [Will they know that… I’m me?]

  The Director hesitated for a moment before answering. “I do not know. Given your change of appearance from before your surgeries, it isn’t likely. It depends on how much spying they do. How effective their League moles are.”

  My mind switched back to the basement. There were a decent number of people who knew who I used to be. Roxy, Clara, Doc Jarl, and the rest of the Natural Disasters. Boss. Even Kingston himself, and possibly others in the League.

  It made me want to find the mole, if only to silence them myself.

  [Understood. Do we have a deal about the bullet protection?]

  “I can’t shake on it,” he said, smiling. “Giving you the reward before the task is complete isn’t how things are done here, but you’ll probably need it if you are going against the smugglers. At the least, you’d need to find out who and where they are before I can sign off on anything.”

  [Consider it done.]

  It wasn’t the guarantee I’d been hoping for, but I was always up for doing a little criminal gang busting if it meant a long-term boost to my capabilities. Doing the actual detective work might be an issue, especially if it wasn’t something in my district… but I had some extra energy to burn.

  I nodded and stood up to leave.

  “Oh, was that it for now, Gunquake?”

  [Yes, thank you. I have a prior engagement that I must make my way over to.]

  He stood and gestured with his hands, removing the privacy barrier for his office. “Nothing too strenuous, I hope?”

  [Not at all. A little community outreach to build up my character profile.]

  Or at least, it was one specific member of the community I hoped to reach out to. The wind buffeted my trenchcoat as I stood on the edge of the roof. My eyes were in my messages, triple checking the address.

  Clara had queried if I wanted to do this at night instead. Sure, it would have suited my theme a little better - but there was a juxtaposition to me doing this in broad light. Hopefully it would drive the message home a little better.

  I closed down my STAR windows and ran my eyes across the apartment building across the street from me. Counted the windows twice, just to be sure. I couldn’t afford a mishap.

  With one long sigh, I rolled out my shoulders before raising my left arm. Grapple shot out, and I stepped off of the edge of the building. It connected higher up on the tall structure across the road, and I swung like a pendulum.

  I lifted my legs up in time for the impact.

  With a crash, I burst in through a window, landing in the room with the hiss of my legs expelling energy. Loose paperwork and dust swirled around my entrance as I turned to the panicked figure on the bed.

  A man, old enough to know better. Still in bed in the early afternoon, with a laptop that fell from the sheets to land upon a raft of empty drink cans on the floor. After seeing who exactly was standing in front of him, he froze in place, half-way between trying to hide beneath the covers and running for the doorway.

  [Bumquake, I assume?]

  He just made a squeaking noise. There was always a chance that I had been incorrect and landed in the wrong apartment, but the amount of Baron Blast memorabilia plastered to the walls and covering every shelf gave me the confidence to know I was in the right place.

  The Baron himself had apparently retired almost a decade ago—according to a brief conversation with Roxy—but the hero had goggles and an almost comically large sawn-off shotgun. Some slight similarities, but Baron Blast had a red and black theme, and actual hands and a face. It seemed short-sighted to compare me to him.

  [I’ve been informed that you have been talking shit about my team. That is unacceptable.]

  He nodded his head briefly, but hadn’t blinked once since I had appeared.

  [The League doesn’t let me kill little mouthy shits like you, but perhaps if I broke those fingers you wouldn’t be able to spread such vitriol online?]

  The man shook his head, this time with more energy.

  [Oh? You disagree? You think that you’d be able to type still. Huh. Want to workshop a different punishment with me instead, then?]

  I stepped toward the bed, crushing empty food containers and dented cans flat. The V-Force drives in my arm and legs powered up, filling the room with an ominous thrumming. Chamber wasn’t loaded, but against a civilian there was hardly a point. A fight between me and someone normal was like Roxy fighting… well, most people.

  My detractor whined and tried to sink further into his covers. I put one foot up on the end of his bed and leaned forward, shaking my head.

  [So much to say behind the mask of anonymity, but in person you are a silent mouse. Do you not want to call me names anymore?]

  Not even a peep from him.

  [I’m all about redemption arcs, so perhaps you can prove me wrong about you. I’ll give you one last chance to turn things around. Quit being a shithead. If I ever see you disparage my group again, then I’m coming back, and neither the police nor the League could prevent what I’d do to you… that's if you were ever found again. Nod if you understand.]

  He did nod, eagerly.

  [Good. Very good. You made the first step. Don’t stumble now.]

  I stepped away from his bed and approached the shattered window. Grappling hook went out, and I was taken away from the apartment to land up on one of the nearby buildings. All things told, I considered that some character growth. I hadn’t murdered him. Roxy and the others would surely pale at what I had just done, but the League wanted me to be an anti-hero.

  There was no requirement to be courageous, virtuous, or stick to the rules the League made us follow. I just had to get results and do the right thing. Cyberbullying was probably a crime, and if not, then I’d be breaking a lot of fingers in the near future. I had a… distinct desire to protect my squad. My family and friends. Even from empty words by those too opinionated to take seriously.

  While the police and onlookers arrived to gawk at the hole I had left in the apartments, I took a stroll away from the scene. Eyes went up to my STAR, expecting a telling-off to be on the way already.

  Instead, it was the mission briefing for our duo mission tomorrow.

  I paused in place and went through the details. Internally, I smiled.

  Potential blood and violence. Our kind of date night.