My fingers drummed on my metallic knee. Usually the Director didn’t keep me waiting this long. The Natural Disasters sat alongside me in the waiting room, equally impatient.

  A night spent being normal had hit a soft spot in my soul. Ignoring the part where I was disassembled to be cleaned out, relaxing on the couch with Roxy and Warlock was more soothing than stims could ever be. The rest of the night had been uneventful as I recovered from my ordeal in the sewers.

  I had taken a break before bed to check my new laptop that had all my social feeds connected. There were a couple of civilians that made it onto my enemy list—if they ever became villains—but reactions to my emergence on the scene were mostly positive. It seemed the populace had been hungry for someone who looked like a vigilante, even if the reality was that we were just as beholden to the League of Heroes within Goldarch.

  Outside of the city was another matter.

  There was even a Gunquake fan club already, although most of their posts were imagining how dreamy I was beneath the mask. All of them would be rather disappointed if they knew. Roxy and I hadn’t come out as an official couple yet, and she warned me some of those supposed fans would turn toxic once they knew I wasn’t single. I was mostly thinking about her ex and if he would have tried to insert himself into our circle if he knew.

  I flexed my toes within my boot.

  The pair of us had arrived at HQ and had a few minutes for small talk with the rest of the group. Their rebranding had been hit or miss, but mostly positive. Belle had lost a lot of her more evangelical followers, but gained a lot more in other sectors. Ren had the biggest gain, considering she wasn’t a very active hero before this all started spiraling around me.

  On the whole, things were good. The numbers were already tiring for me, and I secretly hoped that Kingston would send us off to murder a few mutants in the waste to blow off steam. This meeting was with three of the Directors, so that wasn’t likely.

  Clara was the only one of us excused from the debriefing, with the excuse that it conflicted with her education. Clearly, other than possibly Kingston himself, most of the League were still in the dark about her career development with Doctor Jarl. The techie had waved Warlock at me this morning, rubbing it in that she’d just be home with the cybernetics expert working on my new arm parts.

  Instead of here, impatient and catless.

  A couple of heroes that I hadn’t seen before had rubbernecked their way past the waiting room door, going about their business. We were clearly the hottest shit in the city as of last night, and no doubt the talk of the League. I set aside some time later to go through the list of heroes closest to our area of operation. Definitely not to try to guess who was Roxy’s ex.

  The door ahead of us click and opened, an unmanned invitation for us to enter, finally. I gave the others a nod and took the lead. The meeting room was as plain as I had grown to expect from the League. Barely any furnishings or details around it, aside from the long table in the middle and several empty chairs closest to us.

  A panel of four awaited our arrival. Stacy, our manager, at the right of the table, looked rather out of sorts. There was some pride in her eyes, however. Her team was the talk of Goldarch, so that was no surprise. Aside from her demeanor, she looked out-of-place wearing a pastel peach pantsuit, compared to the darker garb of the Directors.

  Three of them, and I was surprised that I didn’t recognize two of them. It made me wonder how many Directors this place really had. Or needed. Kingston sat in the center, fingertips pressed together in front of his face while his elbows rested on the table. Judging by how on-edge he seemed, I guessed that at least one of the other—if not both—of the other board members present were detractors of mine.

  On the left of the table was a broad man, almost bursting out of his black suit. Peppery-gray hair and long handlebar mustache, yet a youthful brightness to his eyes only barely diminished by his heavy brow, permanently scowling at us. Director Bunnings, his nametag said. I assumed that based on his stature; he was probably a retired hero. He had the jaw for it.

  Between Kingston and Stacy was an extremely short woman. Gnomes were uncommon across most of the continent—from what I knew—so it was interesting that she had been able to become a Director for the League. Director Kiki. Possibly another ex-hero? Perhaps the whole board had powers, seeing as Kingston did as well. She had dark green hair tied up in a bun, and plenty of wisdom behind the soft gray eyes that watched us enter and get seated.

  [Directors, Stacy.]

  I gave them a nod before placing myself in the chair. A little fealty might go a long way. Everyone had warned me that no matter how well I did, the League would needle me with some criticism. Performative to keep me focused on the treadmill.

  “Natural Disasters,” Kingston began, lowering his hands to give us a smile. “Great to see you all in your new designs, and in the wake of what is shaping up to be a positive team rebrand - alongside Gunquake’s official reveal.”

  “Considering the mission offered, and lack of actual public interaction,” Bunnings added, with some bluster to his voice.

  I could see Director Kingston’s jaw clench. Clearly, the sewer mission was something pushed for our benefit - which was hard to accept considering the circumstances of what happened. It allowed us the win in front of a crowd without our actual work being scrutinized.

  “How do you feel the mission went, Gunquake?” Kiki opened up a small case and withdrew a pair of round glasses. “This is your first time leading a group, correct?”

  Far from the truth, but I operated under the assumption that they didn’t know, or wanted me to align with their narrative.

  [Correct. I feel that I am very fortunate to have a team that works so well together. If anything, I consider most of the success due to Rockslide’s prior experience as leader smoothing over any teething troubles I would have had otherwise.]

  “So you are saying your inexperience brought up inadequacies, and that you had to rely on Rockslide to complete the mission?”

  I decided that there were two detractors in the room, then.

  [A good leader utilizes the strengths of those they lead. I am more of a manager that allocates the resources available to me to ensure the mission is a success.]

  Director Kiki nodded, pursing her lips - but didn’t have anything to add.

  Bunnings shifted in his chair as if readying himself up to square up to me. “So why is it you needed to put Rockslide in charge again? Things get a bit too much for you?”

  With a sigh, Kingston placed his hands on the table atop whatever paperwork he had in front of him. “The board recognizes the fact that Gunquake is recently recovering from some extensive surgery, and appreciates that he put himself at risk in taking on the mission so soon.”

  The sneer from the larger man told me he didn’t quite agree with that statement.

  [One of the villain’s creations tried to drown me in sewage. While I recovered, I wanted someone with a clearer mind to lead the group so that I did not sandbag our progress.]

  Kingston nodded and turned to Roxy. “How did you feel about having to step in, Rockslide?”

  “Apprehensive.” The super furrowed her brow, as if she was concentrating on her words. She played into the brawn-over-brains theme in front of the League. “I know that I’m not allowed to be in charge, but as it was our leader’s orders, I did the best for the team.”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  We had practiced some of this out last night. While she had been slightly disappointed once she realized what kind of roleplay I had meant, Roxy had accepted that it was easier to dance along to the tune of the League and lick a few boots rather than give them pushback. If they were going to give us shit no matter how perfectly we played, then high-roading them took some wind from their sails.

  “All things told, the mission was a success.” Director Kiki picked up the conversation, moving away from my leadership. “Naturally, there are some negatives with the rebranding. All of you have had complaints from the public about changing to these new, darker themes. A risk the board has accepted, but we are seeking to minimize the pushback where possible.”

  Bunnings nodded. “What could really help Gunquake’s image is if the public could get a hint at the man beneath the mask. Is that something you’re willing to do?”

  Although his tone indicated I didn’t have much choice in the matter, I was briefly stunned by what he was actually asking me to do.

  [You mean… literally?]

  “It would help with your relatability,” Kiki agreed. “A dark, brooding heartthrob would poll really well, don’t you agree, Stacy?”

  My manager looked like a deer frozen in headlights, but managed a slow nod. The statement wasn’t untrue, of course. I raised an eyebrow at Director Kingston and swore I could see the hint of a wry grin at the edge of his mouth. They didn’t know.

  [I’m afraid I have a disability that would make taking the mask off… undesirable. If it is what the League wishes, I can do so.]

  I raised my hand up to the side of my re-breather. Silence filled the room, the rest of my team staring blankly at the two Directors trying to pry me apart. The gnomish woman opened and closed her mouth silently like a fish out of water, while Bunnings had turned into a brick wall. Figuratively.

  “That won’t be necessary, Gunquake,” Kingston said, reveling in the petty win over his equals. “I will make sure that my colleagues actually read up on your file. Unfortunately, there is not nearly enough sensitivity in the League over those with necessary cybernetics.”

  While Kiki had shriveled up, shooting Kingston a sharp glare, the other Director had started to paw through his paperwork like a confused caveman. Having a man on the inside was starting to look like more and more of a boon, even if we were getting ourselves involved in their office politics.

  My lens picked out a page that Bunnings had brought to the forefront. Not something intended for my eyes, nor something I could really read from this angle. The modified tech that Clara had given me had other ideas, however.

  A green wireframe illuminated the page, before drawing up a copy in my right eyesight. Words filled out as it transferred the letters one by one. A list of my known cybernetic parts - he was just seeing if the board had actually been told about my lack of mouth.

  [Shotgun-arm / D-Grade]

  [Re-breather / C-Grade]

  [Cyberskin / B-Grade]

  [Legs / A-Grade]

  [Nanites / Unknown? WG?]

  What a strange mix I was. It made sense that they knew about my nanites given that they took blood from me, but they were just as clueless as I was about them. Definitely something from outside of Goldarch, so someone with actual knowledge would be rare to find. With the upgrades planned for my arm and re-breather, my overall Grading should shoot up soon enough… not that it affected my hero Ranking.

  [Not a problem. I am so used to it that I forget that it’s not normal. Perhaps there is something else I can do to assist public perception?]

  It soured my insides to offer myself up like that, but I was digging them out of the hole they created. If they felt they came out of the meeting as the victors, then it would keep them off my back for a little longer.

  “There is one thing…” Kiki began, putting a hand up to her chin. “Stacy mentioned that you are dating Rockslide?”

  My manager had all but melted into her chair under the weight of everyone’s gaze. Whether she held a slight grudge about the super snapping me up, or had just been making idle chat, didn’t seem to matter now - as she fully regretted it.

  [That is correct.]

  “There’s a talk show that you should both go on, called The Power of Love. All about the love lives of superheroes.”

  Going public was always part of the plan. Part of the contract for me becoming this puppet of the League. Still, a glance at Roxy and she looked like she was weighing up how far she could get fighting her way out of the building right now. I could feel the warmth radiating off of her. It was indeed tempting.

  [That would potentially increase our favorability within the city and improve our Rankings?]

  “Potentially is the right word,” Kingston confirmed. “Popularity is only one slice of the pie, but I agree with Director Kiki - this would be a good opportunity for the both of you. It wouldn’t be immediately, of course. You need some more groundwork, Gunquake, before we think about media appearances.”

  Kiki bit back a response, clearly disagreeing with him, but not wanting to say anything just yet. While he had dropped us right in it, I had the feeling that he had also just bought us time to prepare for it. How bad could it be, anyway?

  Clearly tired of trying to trip me up, the meeting moved on to more banal questions. The rest of the team was asked about their performance and activities during the mission. To their credit—and my surprise—none of them mentioned my moment of going berserk. They confirmed I helped eradicate the monsters while Roxy and Roy got the villain. The League had no other way of knowing what exactly went on down there… and I wondered if that was another card slipped under the table, thanks to Director Kingston.

  “A reminder to check your calendars,” he concluded once all was done. “All of you are back at work now, so expect patrols and individual missions to be assigned. Media appearances are still being finalized, but you all have work to do to win your fans back over and gain more… all while keeping Goldarch safe.”

  The other two Directors looked done with it, the wind totally taken from their sails. No doubt they had planned a finger-wagging ending statement had the meeting gone more their way. They didn’t even come out of it looking that bad. It had just been irritating for their egos - despite me appearing subservient and eager to do my best.

  “All of you are dismissed.” Director Kingston tidied up his paperwork. “Although, I would like to discuss something privately with Rockslide and Gunquake, if you please?”

  Stacy and the Natural Disasters were ready and happy to leave the room, while the other Directors looked rather sour that we were potentially getting preferential treatment from him.

  A few minutes later, and we were alone. He steepled his fingers in front of his face and glanced between each of us, a smile forming. “Well played. I haven’t seen Bunnings that quiet for a long time.”

  [We did better than just helping you win some points over them, though?]

  “These are your detractors, Gunquake.” He leaned back in his chair. “Those who believe a vigilante hero is deplorable. That rebranding a whole team is foolish. People who would lock you up rather than see you as a hero.”

  [I’ll assume they didn’t start up my fan club, then.]

  “They really want to lock Dubs up?” Roxy asked, still some nerves rolling around.

  “If not outright kill him. Those that know about his past, at least.” Kingston pulled a face. “You’ve seen firsthand how out of the loop some of them are. Intentional ignorance is a blight to the workings of the city… but what can one man do?”

  [Give me twenty-four hours and full pardon and I’ll show you.]

  He stifled a laugh. “Please, Gunquake. Even saying something like that in jest within these walls is a dangerous thing. The reason I held you back is to hear the no-bullshit version of events. Was it just trouble with your recovery, or did you need to let Rockslide lead for other reasons?”

  [We both know no normal person would be walking so soon after getting new legs. Functionally, I was able to walk, but I became tired and sluggish after almost suffocating from the surprise attack. That is the reason I put Rockslide in charge.]

  “It wasn’t as if I had to do much in terms of decision making,” the super added. “We followed the route and plan Gunquake designed. I was just making sure the morale of the others stayed level.”

  “Good.” Kingston nodded. “Good. The others aren’t pleased about you two being together - hence trying to catch you out with the talk show. Personally, although super couples aren’t great for business, I believe the pair of you are fantastic for the safety of Goldarch. We will turn this attempted gotcha into another win for you and the Natural Disasters.”

  I nodded along, sarcastically glad that our relationship had even more validation. A talk show, though? I couldn’t see the angle. Did they expect me to lose the ability to be charming and well-spoken?

  [In what way is it a ‘gotcha’?]

  Roxy moved in her chair awkwardly. “That’s… the show that had my ex on, after the break-up. The first to peddle his sob story, and I refused to be on there.”

  Ah. The unkicked edged his way in front of my foot once more. No doubt Director Kiki knew about this, and the suggestion was a deliberate way to unsettle the super.

  Kingston clasped his hands together. “We’ll make sure things go your way. Once the date of shooting is confirmed, I’ll arrange for you two to go on a duo mission beforehand. That will stick fresh in the mind of the public and smooth over any rough patches during the interview. If it’s something you want to downplay or…”

  “No, fuck it. We’ll do it.” Roxy put her hand on my arm.

  [Agreed. I look forward to it.]

  “Perfect.” His eyes went over to the side of the room, as if there was someone standing by the wall. “For now, follow your calendars and I will update you once things are confirmed.” Kingston’s gaze returned to us and he smiled. “Congratulations on your first successful mission. Go celebrate, you’ve earned it.”

  There it was.

  Official. Undeniable. Validated. I was a hero - a working cog within the machinery of Goldarch. There was a brimming feeling within me, bubbling to the surface. Anticipation. I was looking forward to my career advancing. I had a career.

  So celebrate we would. I would live in the light, devoid of any shadows.

  Even if it just lasted for one day before fate muddied my boots again.