Built Different [Cyborg Superhero ProgFant]

The soft hum of the Meteor massaged all the dried up parts of my brain, enveloping my soundscape entirely for several minutes straight. Until the woman I loved interrupted the constant noise, at least.

"Ugh, I still can't believe I slept in so long."

I opened my eyes and tilted my head to the side to regard the super. Other than the very obvious nerves and slight guilt in her expression, she looked absolutely perfect. Not a part of her suit or freshly cut hair out of place. This was the public event to stand above every other, and while she didn't usually make such an effort, this was a special occasion.

One where I could make a fool of myself and forever ruin my career, causing my presence to be dead weight, dragging the rest of the group down… but the odds couldn't be that bad.

[Yesterday was quite eventful, so it's not surprising. You look fantastic, though.]

"Thanks, Dubs." She sighed and relaxed into the seat.

All of my gear was the freshest I had available. I hadn't made as much fuss of making sure that I looked the part, but my image was in being imperfect - or something like that. Plus, the Arena probably had staff that would make me more presentable for the cameras.

"There's never any rest, is there?" Roxy continued.

[I don't know about that. Once I've aced this, we have your birthday to look forward to. Aren't you curious as to what I've gotten you?]

"Ah!" She sat back up, her face illuminating. "No spoilers! That gives me something to take my mind off current events, though."

I hadn't gotten her anything. Not yet, at least. A mistake to leave things this late, but when most of my experience giving gifts fell into the quick-death category, I had admittedly come up a little short on how one celebrated a birthday. One life-altering event at a time.

The ride to the stadium actually gave me ample time to really stew and think about my life. All the things that had led up to being in this position. One last contemplative review before the world exploded.

My life as a contract killer was an odd career forced upon me by the one who saved my life; Boss. It turned out that I had previously been a super soldier working for the World Government, and Boss was the one who created me and my brothers.

One sacking and a little mutiny later, and the disgruntled ex-scientist rescued my dying body from the shallow grave my superiors had left me in. Restricted my memories and powers and anonymized me in barbaric ways.

At some point during this new life as a hitman, Boss got Kingston on board. Flashed my potential as an asset for Goldarch's pocket. All he wanted in return was for me to get away with murder, literally, while I trained. It wasn't clear how close the two were, and who was really stringing the other along. Eventually, it seemed as though the League wanted me to have more soft skills to go along with my violent nature.

That's when Roxy was airdropped to my remote shack.

From there, things got a little dicey. Boss saw that I had grown my own wings and was ready to fly. Kingston wanted to reel in the big fish and make use of me. I had a life not just as an implement of violence, but one where I could make friends and enjoy things like anyone else.

Including getting into a spat with my partner's ex.

I had become a hero under the guidance of Director Kingston. While mostly in his pocket to save his own career, the efforts of those controlling me had turned me into a rather functional—if unconventional—super. Now I had to go onto the big stage and prove my proficiency… and possibly repel an attack from the shadows of my past, unhappy that I had clawed an existence out of their grasp.

All I had to do was keep surviving.

"Everything okay? There must be a lot on your mind."

I blinked away the haze and looked back at the super.

[Just an extended introspective over these last couple of months.]

She wrinkled up her face. "Get first place and I'll give you something to introspect extensively."

[Now I'll take this actually seriously.]

Roxy rolled her eyes. "I feel partially responsible, as it's my stupid baggage that got you into this situation."

[On the contrary, I believe it is my baggage that will make this situation ten times worse.]

She took this opportunity to sigh, gathering her thoughts. We hadn't discussed the potential threat in depth. Perhaps because we were both hoping it was an empty threat. In reality, we both knew that it wasn't just smoke and mirrors. If my last couple of months were any indication, then some life-threatening situation was bound to crop up.

"Good thing you'll have me—and any other super asshole in attendance—to back you up. Not that I care to get involved in some worsening global political bullshit…"

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I saw her point. Even if the Word Gov and League were in disagreement over how to handle supers and Goldarch, they kept it secret. Something public might blow that open to the world at large. Both parties were smart enough not to escalate things to an all out war… but the situation could get messy. The last thing I needed was to have to watch over my shoulder for the rest of my life.

Yet still, I was just here to win a competition today.

[Whatever happens today, I will overcome it. We all will, together.]

Roxy narrowed her eyes at me, but put on a soft smile. "If we're going to be soppy, then I want to say I'm proud of you, Dubs. Just look at you. Is there anything the two of us couldn't beat the shit out of?"

[Nothing. We will fight off the whole world together.]

She leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing further. "That's because you're built different."

[I now already feel like I've won the gold medal. Or trophy. Whatever I'm fighting for.]

"In saying that, you need to stop losing your limbs, dumbass." The super sat back up straight, a wider grin on her face. "A robot suit would look badass, but I like the parts of you that are still human."

[Are you sure that you're not worried that I might surpass you if I had a second gun-arm?]

The resulting scowl was the only response required. It also gave me an idea for part of her birthday gift. She had a point, however. While it couldn't be denied that both my arm and new legs were an upgrade, there was only so much old me left. I had already seen a few schematics on Clara's computer, for if I ever did need something replaced. Comforting, in a way. Yet I should be competent enough now not to get constantly injured beyond normal healing.

Hadn't even broken my arm in a while.

Perhaps I should be worried that I'd had that exact thought several times lately.

Instead, my focus was drawn to the map illuminating the side of the front window. We were getting pretty close to the Arena now. North east of the city, in one of the bigger residential and commerce sectors. Not a place that I had really traveled to much in either lines of my work. Far enough from our home to let the nerves really settle in, but things weren't so dire.

The Natural Disasters would stick together in the audience. With some grace, they had been all allowed leave to watch me - most likely because they wouldn't be able to keep away, anyway. With Belle now able to teleport the Meteor back to base, we had already roughed out some worst-case scenarios and ways to respond if the event went wrong.

[It is rather impressive the group have been developing new skills with their powers.]

Her expression relaxed, and she gave me a nod. We had discussed it briefly during our shared bath last night, but most of the nuance and detail had dissolved amongst the exhaustion and fragrant bubbles.

"Unprecedented, in a way." Roxy bit her lower lip as she thought. "The way it's set up in Goldarch, heroes are supposed to stagnate to some degree. Keeps us controllable and shit? The fact that the other goofballs are exceeding their previous levels is probably due to… trying to catch up to our standard."

[We cause that much of an imbalance?]

"Kinda, yeah. Other than a rare breakthrough like with me, superheroes tend to stay in their lane. Powers don't get better, but a smart hero can utilize what they have in more applicable ways. Like… with Roy's new Lightning Burst ability."

[He hasn't attained a higher degree of super speed, but was somehow able to compress his current capacity and then release it as a temporary boost at the cost of greater stamina drain?]

Roxy looked at me blankly for a few seconds. "Oh. He explained it already, then?"

[A whole essay. First thing I read when I woke up this morning.]

She smiled and looked out at the street we were rolling down. Not the most direct route, but it was more to avoid running over pedestrians and smaller vehicles rather than to give us more time to chat before the big event.

"If anything, Dubs, your real power is the way you boost those around you."

Ignoring the countless lives I had taken over the years, of course. Everything from the Natural Disasters to the hobgoblins. Maybe it was just because I was an outsider to the walled garden the League had set up around heroes. A chaotic force of change.

[I could name several other things I'm good at.]

The Meteor slowed to a halt in the shadow of one of the largest buildings I had seen in Goldarch. Not the tallest, but it was wide. The Arena looked as though it could house several sports pitches, alongside enough seating for a decent amount of the population.

"Save it for later." The super looked anxiously at the building before turning to me. "This is where you go in, babe. I'll have to go through the entrance for heroes, but I'm thankful this is hidden away from the general public. You'll have privacy and… I guess they'll tell you what to do."

I leaned forward, and she gave me a kiss on the re-breather.

[I'll knock them dead, don't you worry.]

"Good."

A conflicting final sentiment as I left my seat and headed for the back of the Meteor. An odd choice of words, and some encouragement that drew it closer to being foreshadowing.

Or just my nerves.

After exiting the vehicle, the back door rose back into place, and Clara drove it away. I had become so used to working with a team that this felt so very alone. Not that I would usually mind such a thing, but I could almost feel the tangible presence of a crowd forming. It was time to become a spectacle.

"Ah, Gunquake. Please come this way."

I turned my head to see a doorway on the side of the building open, with a figure standing within. A man in his late twenties, in a smart, athletic suit of soft gray and blue. Across his chest were the words Heroism Arena Staff, and he had a visible earpiece and radio.

With a nod, I followed on.

The interior wasn't quite what I had been expecting. Plain concrete walls, sets of cable wires running along alternative sides of this corridor, with crates and boxes stacked here and there. If felt more like an emergency exit or where they took in deliveries. Not even a slice of glamor.

"I'll guide you to your room, Gunquake. Once there, you will receive further instructions through the holo-monitor. There's still time before you'll be called up to the Arena proper."

More time to sit and stew in my nerves.

[Thank you.]

The man stopped and gestured to the third side passage that we had passed. "Down there, the door with the large star on it. Anything you need, please use the monitor within."

I gave him another nod of thanks and set off on my own. Although this corridor was devoid of any boxes and clutter, it still had the unfurnished look to it. Few probably had to see it, so perhaps it was just to save on costs. Two blank doors on the left before I arrived at the next. The fabled Star-door.

For a couple of seconds, I stood in front of it. I wondered how many people had access to the planner and knew that I would be in this specific room. If someone intended on assassinating me, doing it before the main show would certainly draw less attention. The fact that I hadn't seen another living soul was edging my thoughts closer to assuming this was a trap… but paranoia was a terrible way to start this event off.

With one deep sigh, I took the handle and pushed the door open.

My mood immediately dropped several degrees.