Utilizing the dull hook attached to the warehouse table, I pulled the tactical glove down over my hand. Satisfied that it was on comfortably, I stepped back and adjusted my balaclava, before pulling my trenchcoat hood up.

  Fully dressed and outfitted head to toe.

  My boots felt a little odd on my metal feet, and I had to sit down for ten minutes to avoid a bout of vertigo, but the positive attitude I had started the day with still lingered. The sun was setting, and it was soon time to meet up with the team to go through mission information. We had scheduled a little time beforehand to have a proper celebration over each of our new costumes as well.

  While I had nothing new going on in that department, I took it to heart that this sort of thing was massive for a hero. I would be there cheering them on, just as they would be by my side when fighting evil. Or whatever crackpot villain-of-the-week the League threw us at.

  The handful of messages that had dropped into my STAR had mostly been well-wishes from my friends during my recovery time. One from Stacy to say that Director Kingston was personally handling our debut mission, but she’d be around if I needed her. A few deleted messages from Roxy where she had tried to write me a poem and had second thoughts, removed before I could get a whiff of it.

  But the really interesting one was from someone I hadn’t expected and was only three words long.

  //Silhouette: Watch your step.

  After mulling over what sort of tone he was trying to convey, I opted to just respond with a smiley face. He hadn’t sent anything back since, so perhaps I’d count that as a win for my good mood. While the stealthy S-Rank may be my brother by blood, he wasn’t keen on showing his hand over his real identity - if he even remembered. We were still light on information, but my gut told me that he wasn’t Warlock.

  With one last check of all my gear, I was content. Gunquake. No longer Bard or Agent W.

  I left the warehouse into the cool evening air. Meteor sat there, inert and ready. It had been pretty easy to work out the controls, and I imagined the only issue I’d have in driving it was in not decimating everything else unlucky enough to share the road with us. Some functions I could activate with my STAR, and for everything else there were labeled buttons. There was a screen across the front interior rather than a window. Linked to a shielded camera on the exterior, it also overlayed handy information about the terrain and status of the vehicle.

  The corpse of the quakewagon was still a sad memory, but Meteor would suffer no similar fate. I gave the hull a gentle pat as I continued past to the garden. It was nice to have something with a bit of guaranteed longevity to it. I just needed to be painted with that same brush.

  Before I could seek out one of the two women who had been avoiding me, the buzz of a drone drew my attention. The replacement of the one destroyed in my very close fight with Red Dust was of a similar design to this new one, although the drone hovering down in front of me was slightly more robust and had several cylindrical pods attached alongside it. It twirled in the air as if it was showing off, then departed to go land atop Clara’s office.

  I followed it, pushing through the door to find the techie sitting in her chair, massaging her forehead with her fingertips. Her computer station had evolved from having three screens to now seven, four of them relatively small in comparison to the others. A stack of three closed laptops was on the left side of the desk, while the right had a cat bed. Warlock was stretched out and asleep within.

  [Everything okay?]

  Clara sighed and leaned back in her chair, turning it around to face me with a glum expression on her face. “Information overload. I’m actually feeling burned out for a change, Gunquake.”

  [If you share some of that useless information, will that relieve the pressure? You won’t have to worry about containing all of it, then.]

  “I’m not sure it works that way.” She tilted her head from side to side. “But for you, I’m willing to try.”

  Before she began, I stepped over to the right and pulled one of the spare chairs over. Not because I expected this to be an especially long tale, but remaining on my legs for too long was asking for trouble.

  “I picked up a lot of data about demons, adjacent to my research into Demonic Regeneration. Apparently they aren’t that common in Othea anymore, due to some war that happened a long time ago. It’s not clear how much is fable, or an accurate recounting… but it is alleged the prime evil - the God of Sin, was destroyed and split himself into thirteen parts. The Inheritors of these powers are in a constant battle for the throne in hell.”

  [Interesting. How would I recognize a demon if I saw one out in the world?]

  “Chances are slim, Gunquake. The short answer is you probably wouldn’t. While many demons differ based on their ancestry and source of power, the ones who are able to travel planes of existence all have the same core traits. Firstly, they all have a Mask, which allows them to change their appearance to fit in with society.”

  I nodded along. They probably weren’t magically based either, so I wouldn’t be able to sense them that way. Perhaps someone who had a holy energy based source of power?

  “Generally they are terrible with metaphors and common idioms. Oh, another one is that they aren’t always… comically evil. Demons have the capacity to live peaceful and even ‘good’ lives, but they will always have the compulsion to commit minor strife. Mischief, petty crime, sinister or threatening actions - it’s a matter of control and personal pride.”

  [So that narrows it down to… almost anyone.]

  “Maybe we are the real demons all along.” Clara shook her head to avoid showing me a brief smile. Unsuccessfully. “That might have helped a little, actually. Thank you, Gunquake.”

  [It’s the least I could do. I feel bad that you will be here alone tonight, and don’t even have a costume reveal.]

  “I’d much rather be able to wear what I wanted… or nothing at all.” She furrowed her brow and glanced at the sleeping kitten. “Plus, being out in the field is not my style. Warlock and I will watch eagerly from the cover of safety. You’ll all have body cameras so that I have eyes on everything. While the drone is on your back, it has an extendable camera that will watch over your shoulder - as well as behind you.”

  [I… really like that.]

  “I know.”

  It was something that rubbed me in a way that felt familiar. Likely, it was how things used to run when we were a squad. As much as it was an undertaking for the techie to be focused on so much, the more accurate information I had fed straight into my brain, the more confident I’d feel when in the thick of it.

  [How does your new drone differ? I’ll assume it won’t get much use down in the sewers.]

  “Correct. Flying limitations aside, it would just get in the way of the others. For the most part, it is the same model as the prior, as the League will not sign off on anything with actual weaponry built in.” Clara sighed again and gave the kitten a dejected glance. “For now, it has two Tazer chargers and a conal Flash activation on a five minute recharge. Not game changing, but an addition to your arsenal to tip odds in your favor.”

  [That’ll save you from having to battering-ram criminals with it, at least.]

  The sour expression she shot me told me all I needed to know. Until she pressed a button on her keyboard, and my eyes lit up with a light wireframe. The techie and Warlock highlighted with a slight red outline. Details ran down my peripheral, giving distance to the pair, potential threats, and ideal weak points to exploit.

  [This is… new. My old STAR never had this kind of information.]

  “What are you suggesting, Gunquake?” A coy smile formed at the side of her mouth. “That I would secretly replace the STAR chip Doctor Jarl intended to load into you with one I had personally modified on a prior occasion with illegally gained military software without his knowledge? I would never admit to such a thing.”

  It wasn’t the first time I had thought this, but I was glad that she was on our side. The only option was to trust her fully, otherwise I’d be in a constant state of panic. She’d do the best for the both of us, no matter what lines she had to cross to make that reality. It made her the perfect accomplice to the retired tool of murder and raging powder keg that me and Roxy were. Warlock was just an angel. Figuratively.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  [Chances we are way too overpowered for beating up a few monsters in the sewers?]

  “The odds are good, which you should be thankful for.” Clara turned in her chair to face her computers properly. “League work should be boring and safe, Gunquake. Assuming you don’t go wandering again and drag the team into a war against the League of Villains, then it should stay as dull as tonight.” She hesitated before typing. Swearing under her breath, she realized what she had said.

  [That’s on you if it ends up happening now. I’m going to see if Roxy is ready. I assume the rest of the team will start arriving soon.]

  The techie murmured something under her breath as I stepped back out of the office, but had nothing important to add. Rather than stomp around the house after the super, I sent her a message through my STAR to come out when ready - and I went and sat at the garden table.

  No nerves for what was to come. Like Clara had said - League work was meant to be easily winnable. It was good for business. The performative aspect of it wasn’t even that dire sounding. After all, I could be charismatic at times. A few words about keeping the city safe after punting some basic monsters in the face, the villain tied up and looking sour for being caught… it was almost guaranteed.

  A glance at my calendar, and Stacy and her assistant had already populated several things for the coming week. Tomorrow we had our debriefing. The talking heads at the League of Heroes would tell us what went wrong, how we could improve, and push our career trajectories forward.

  I also had a solo mission in three days, but there was no information attached to it. The day after that, I had a potential press briefing. On the basis I didn’t fuck anything up before then. It all sounded rather droll, and I was more interested in finding out if Director Kingston would have another wastelands job for us soon.

  Not that I was keen to be excavating another mutant-filled hole in the desert so soon after our last campaign through it. That book had closed, and it was time to write a new chapter filled with gritty city fighting and the office politics of being a law-abiding League mook. I was overjoyed.

  Any further self-reflective smarm was cut short by the sound of the door to the house opening, the figure of Roxy shadowed by the awning briefly before she stepped out into the light.

  I paused as I drank in her new look and she stopped on the grass, fists balled on her hips as she posed like a hero.

  This supersuit had no sleeves, just like her old one, showing off her muscular arms. Instead of covering her whole legs, her new suit cut off around the middle of her thighs. The bright orange and silver had been replaced by a gradient of brown, lighter near her neck and darkest around her waist. Black, low-cut boots, and bracelets that matched her volcanic earrings. In a first, she wore some makeup - mostly dark eyeliner that helped sell the anti-hero look we were supposed to be going for. Behind her hung a waist-length cape of bright yellow and amber.

  [Wow, you look fantastic.]

  She shook her head and relaxed her posture. “Wait for the best part, babe.”

  I raised an eyebrow and watched as she held her arms out and frowned. The air around her wavered as she became super-heated, and her arms burst into lava. Just as she did so, the top of her suit began changing color.

  Starting up by her neck, the brown lightened into orange—then yellow—as the color ran down her torso. It was clearly meant to look like an overflowing volcano. Roxy switched the powers off, and the brown started to fade back up her suit.

  [Imagine I’m making a whistling sound. Impressive.]

  “Clara’s idea, and I’m pretty sure she twisted their arm into doing it.” She looked down and kicked at the grass. “Shit, burned some of the lawn. It’s all heat resistant, as long as I keep it to my legs and arms. Materials that can resist lava temperatures aren’t often as flexible as I’d need for an outfit.”

  [Are you happy with the new look, however?]

  “I look like a huge bitch - I love it.” She grinned and stepped over to join me. “Best thing, though, no fucking padding. Had to almost put some jerkoff through the wall for them to agree, but now the internet trolls can cry over my real tits and ass.”

  [There’s nothing wrong with either.]

  She sat down, leaning forward to give me a kiss on the re-breather before sitting back. “That’s why you’re my favorite. I’m actually surprised the League is cool with me looking like such an asshole. Hopefully I don’t stand out against the others.”

  [They’ll be arriving soon?]

  “Yep. One by one. They arranged it to be like that, because this is the prime time for us to be divas. I don’t know anything about what they’ll look like, other than Clara has meddled in the process… for better or worse.”

  I nodded, and we turned as the door to the techie’s office opened up. Perhaps on cue, but she was holding a small box in front of herself.

  “Looking good, sister. I was going to make a sassy remark, but I genuinely mean it.” She stopped and placed the box on the ground. “I have already been spoiled on the others, and I have to say my input was worth every effort.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you’ll be fishing for praise all evening. Thank you, though.”

  Clara just gave us a wry smile, before she began taking out stones from the box. We sat in silence as she created a circle with the rocks, lastly placing some manner of flower in the center.

  [I am intrigued. Do I dare ask?]

  The techie stood and brushed her hands off on her overalls. “The others weren’t just sitting on their hands while you’ve been busy losing limbs. Everyone seems to trust me with their secrets, which is interesting.”

  I exchanged a look with Roxy, but she just gave me a shrug in response. Seems like there was a lot more going on than we both realized, and yet the group had allowed yesterday to be only about me. The trauma of losing my legs aside, the last week had been nothing but reassurance that I was a whole real person. I owed them all a round of drinks.

  We both turned back to the three-foot wide circle of stones, as the flower within it started to glow green. A line of similar colored energy twisted out from the center, bouncing from and connecting each of the rocks in sequence. Back and forth like a spider creating a web. I could feel the draw of magical energy as the brightness increased. Familiar, of course. As the lines stopped and a crescendo of energy was reached, there was a pop, the surrounding air fizzing with static.

  Now a figure stood there.

  Brown boots leading up to dark leggings. A slim dress with repeating folds of several shades of green, root-like bands moving across in different directions like belts. Her sleeves were flared out by the hands now parting as the magical teleportation spell was complete. Faux leaves and detailed stitching added to the nature fairy design, something completed by small wings hiding behind Belle’s back.

  She ran her hand through her pink hair, two lines of dark green war-paint underneath her eyes. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t fuck that up!”

  “Holy shit!” Roxy stood up from her chair, moving around the table in an instant so that the pair could inspect each other.

  I kept out of the initial dervish of them explaining and oohing and ahhing over all the details of each other’s outfits.

  “Nervous? Yeah.” Belle clenched and unclenched her fists. “Dropping the evangelical priest theme for something more fae orientated is a huge risk, but I love the look. With my stronger connection to Him, this fits much better.”

  [You look great.]

  She gave me a brief curtsey. “You think that’s good? Watch this.”

  With a hand extended, magic energy swirled around and the protective dome popped into existence over us. As it did so, her wings extended and bloomed into life. Much larger than when they were idle, she now looked like a butterfly - the wings themselves an ethereal shimmering purple and blue.

  A glance over at the techie’s barely concealed pride told me that was Clara’s doing. I hadn’t expected her to be so invested in the superhero outfits, but I was starting to understand. She wanted us to excel and climb the rankings. No doubt the League would have just given us some basic outfits to work with, but these were excessively extra.

  Roxy then showed off her color changing suit by powering things up. No doubt she’d be doing that another two times before we set off. She had a point about the League accepting these thematic revisions. I hadn’t exactly met many heroes yet, but none had looked so dark and brooding—nor overtly aesthetic—as what we were becoming.

  I tilted my head and was the first to notice the streak of blue emerging from the city and headed at great speed along the road toward us. Several seconds after seeing it, the crack of thunder finally met our ears, just in time for the physical body of none other than Captain Snaps to arrive at our little enclave.

  His new outfit was even darker than Roxy’s. A full suit of black and dark gray that resembled tactical gear. The various plates and bulky sections that made up the armor had cracks running through them, where several lines of light blue ran through the full length of his body in these shallow trenches. On his chest was a thunderbolt symbol where these pulses of light originated from, and it looked as though his electrifying gloves had been upgraded. He grinned and gave us all a bow.

  After the brief hello, I let the trio go over the flashy parts of their new outfits. Clara came and sat beside me in the meantime, the contentedness clear on her face.

  “Not only has Belle improved her magical strength, connecting further to her patron with the assistance of the arcane crystals, but the Captain has been attending three different martial arts classes a day - when not otherwise occupied.”

  [I feel like I have been out of the loop with all this.]

  “You’re not expected to careful track the lives of several other people.” She tilted her head as Roy crackled with arcs of electricity. “Although, you have a vested interest as their leader now, Gunquake.”

  [Are you offering to spy and keep me updated?]

  “If you request me to.”

  The garden illuminated in a soft glow as Belle showed off her wings.

  [You’re already doing a lot for me. For all of us. We can’t function if you’re burned out.]

  “I can’t function if I’m not doing these things.” Clara put her hand on my gun-arm. “Happiness comes to me via obsession. Every step that the group rises up together is fuel for my continued efforts.”

  [Then do as you will. As the leader, I trust in you to support me in every detail that will help the team. You are one of us, and will rise alongside us.]

  She smiled, but just gave me a nod in return.

  The sudden change in pressure was possibly one of the reasons. A breeze washed over us, shaking the grass and buffeting the group still gushing over the new outfits. In the dim light above our buildings, the final member of our group descended, standing atop her floating bow.

  Ren wore a hooded cloak of dark blue with pale edging. Her elven ears stuck out of the sides of the raised hood through slits, the shadows beneath obscuring her face and the goggles she was wearing. Similar to mine, but a bright blue instead of green, and a slimmer shape. The rest of her outfit was rather subtle and sleek, almost assassin-like. She dropped off of her bow from way too high up, but a plume of upward wind slowed her descent, her feet landing softly on the ground as she caught the falling bow with a flourish.

  We cheered, and the cycle of celebrating our new fits renewed with even more chatter. Clara and I got up and joined them, and as the full Natural Disasters, we were complete.

  I checked the time in my STAR before looking over toward the city.

  We were ready, but was Goldarch?