Built Different [Cyborg Superhero ProgFant]

The crowd went wild as the four of us filtered out of the bunker and onto a small platform.

Once again, I was amazed at the depth in which the arena could change. The obstacle course was expansive, to say the least. We had stepped out of our small room onto a starting stage in the southwest of the stadium. The course itself looked to be a U-shape, from our position, circling back around to the ending in the southeast area. A tall wall of near-transparent material ran from the south to almost the northern end, to split through the middle of everything.

I looked up, and as far as my lens could see, the wall was at least eighty feet tall.

The route ahead of us was a cluttered mess of various obstacles. Pits, raised ledges, and rounded platforms to test our footing. Moving barricades of various shapes and sizes. Wires, nets, and other things I couldn't see from this location. It looked tiring. With the added complication of my opponents racing alongside me, it wasn't going to be a simple matter.

"Heroes, please stand at the ready!" The host's voice echoed around the area, although I couldn't see where he was. "You may start at the sound of the buzzer!"

//Dubs: Clarify rules.
//Clara: Objective is to make it to the end platform first.
//Clara: Violence against other entrants is forbidden.
//Clara: Although using your abilities to waylay them indirectly is fine.
//Dubs: Appreciated.

I tilted my head to watch the others get prepared. Maestro and Blue Bulwark were to my left, and Snake-guy was on the right. None of them were specifically agile to a great degree. The power to manipulate objects, barrel through barricades, or hiss mathematically weren't competencies geared towards traversing obstacles at speed.

If anything, I might have an advantage here… unless they also believed that and would do all that they could to stop me. It's what I would do in their situation.

I leaned forward and crouched slightly. The V-Force drives in my legs hummed with energy, rapidly filling with power as we waited for the starter buzzer. While my eyes were fixed on the first obstacle ahead—rotating rectangular blocks at the end of a slope—my mind was replaying some of what I had learned about being a hero.

Already behind in points, I was willing to get a little risky to keep myself in the running. Do or die.

The buzzer sounded.

Blue Bulwark was first off the mark, barreling himself into a ball down the slope. Snake-guy was next, sliding down more carefully, while Maestro looked more intent on laying a trap for me as he moved.

But the energy remained unspent in my legs. I did not move an inch.

As my detractor slid down, scowling at me with some very valid confusion on his face, I turned away from him and faced directly to the right. Putting all my eggs in one basket, I raised my arm and fired my grapple.

Everything had limits.

The end hit somewhere over seventy feet up, adhering to the near-transparent wall. I leaped into the air, powered by my legs, and put all my willpower into my grapple, reeling me in as quickly as mechanically possible. The buzz of the thick wire speeding through the gears and winches drowned out the surprise of the audience.

There was a good chance I wouldn't make it over the wall. Hell, it was likely that the wall was even taller than the expected eighty or so feet. As I rushed through the air, I felt my momentum starting to taper off. A mistake in the making. My insides tightened up at the thought of failure. I wasn't getting high enough. Anything less than success would mean…

No. I would win.

Before I could collide with the large wall, I fired out a Foam shot from my arm. It expanded out and solidified into a place for me to step briefly, rather than slam against the sheer surface. Just enough room for my right boot.

Leg powered up again, and I hopped. The force split the foothold away from its position, neutering some of the height I would have otherwise got. It was enough. The grapple fell away as my right hand grabbed the edge of the tall wall. Fueled by adrenaline and a disregard for safety, I pulled myself over the top.

And fell.

This part of the idea wasn't as fleshed out as the rest. I twisted in the air and powered up all of my V-Force drives. The empty platform of the finish line zoomed toward me in a split second. Landing on both feet and my closed fist, I ejected as much force as possible to soften my meteoric end.

Gray concrete and waves of dispersing magical energy burst up around me, a small explosion that blew up dust and spread debris across the last set of obstacles.

I waited a few seconds with bated breath. Half expecting one of my limbs of bones to have burst from my body in resignation. Half expecting to be disqualified for not playing ball. When the ringing in my ears subsided, I risked standing back up straight.

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

//Clara: No biological injuries reported.
//Clara: Cybernetics displaying signs of high-stress usage.
//Clara: I recommend only modest use of V-Force for a while, Gunquake.
//Clara: And… not throwing yourself from such heights.

Internally, I smiled.

The other three heroes were still two-thirds of the way through the course. Perhaps rather unfair of me to not play my part in the performance. While I expected to be chastised by those in charge, it seemed as though they were waiting for the others to finish before addressing my shortcut.

An opportunity for those Directors who didn't like me to throw the book at me.

I brushed some dust from my trench-coat and stepped out of the small crater I had made. The crowd was going wild, although it was difficult to know if that was because they were in favor of what I did, or against it.

The stormy face dealing with the last obstacle told me what my fellow heroes thought about the rebellious act. Maestro must have made it over the last fifty feet of shifting blocks and spinning wires at double speed just so he could be the first one to accost me.

"I hope you get disqualified," he barked as he sped up the steps to the finish line.

[I hope you find genuine happiness in this world.]

He bit back a response as he considered how to clash against that. Rather than take the lower road, he just snarled and turned his attention to the two remaining heroes in motion.

Blue Bulwark had been having a tough time with some obstacles that required finesse. His large and durable form had been able to break through many of the problems, but near the end he had decided it was slowing him down, and had switched to going over the top of anything he could.

Snake-guy was… doing his best. It was difficult to believe that he was part of the competition in earnest. I wasn't sure if they intended for him to be comedic relief, or if he had some cult following amongst the populace that made his presence worthwhile in terms of ratings and views, but…

Whatever powers he had weren't doing him any favors through the course. Red in the face, he lagged behind the beetle-man by quite some distance. Mostly struggling to overcome the broken obstacles. As Bulwark pulled himself up beside the two of us, all our attentions turned to the man in last place.

[Has he… been a hero for a long time?]

"Around a decade, I believe," Maestro replied, the spectacle distracting enough that there was no vitriol in his response for once. "Part of the junior academy before hitting the big leagues."

[Was he called Snake-guy back then?]

He rolled his eyes, the sour expression coming back across his face. "No, it was Snake-kid."

I couldn't actually tell if he was being sarcastic or not. It was both plausible, and my general knack for being able to read between the lines wasn't on form. Vaulting the wall had shaken up my brain a little much, on top of the energies filling the stadium being overwhelming.

From behind the east side of the course, a floating platformed moved into the air. The host, who I was slightly less sure was called Gary, stood atop it. Still grinning. Probably not waiting for Snake-guy to spend another two minutes fighting his way over the final stretch of the course.

"Put your hands together for our heroes!" his voice boomed throughout the stadium.

The cheers from the crowd raised in volume, but for us three gathered at the end point, our focus was more on how those in charge would deal with my unexpected method of completing the race.

Snake-guy continued to huff and struggle his way over the last two obstacles as the floating platform moved down to settle beside us. The host smiled as his bright eyes focused on me.

"Gunquake! Quite the novel approach to not complete the obstacle course as directed. While our judges deliberate behind the scenes, care to tell our audience what your thought process was?"

Mostly the mental exhaustion of having to perform like a trained animal while the constant stress of possibly being assassinated in front of the whole city eroded my psyche back to my risk-taking older self.

[A great hero once told me that often heroics involve thinking outside the box. As the challenge was to get to the finish first, I treated it as if there was a villain or innocent on the line. It seemed efficient to get there as quick as I was able.]

It wasn't quite the lesson that Roxy taught me, but it was close enough. I knew this because there was a louder voice cheering back from the direction she was seated.

The host's smile remained unchanging. "Amazing. Even as a relatively new face to the scene, you have continued to show your dedication to helping out the people of Goldarch."

If I didn't know any better, I would have expected a sentence or two after that statement. Something to chastise me for not playing along, or breaking part of the stage. I couldn't get any sort of gage from the crowd on whether they approved or not. It was all noise, and I felt that my insides were being wound up like a jack-in-the-box since the day had begun.

Although, I could tell that Maestro probably wanted to give his thoughts on what should be done with me. He was burning up in my peripheral. The other two didn't have as much of a personal stake in my failure, even if their own success was important.

Maybe I could get disqualified and go home. I should be so lucky.

"Just in from the judges…" the host put a hand to his ear. "Although it was very unconventional, Gunquake's shortcut kept to the rules as given, and thus… he wins the second challenge!"

Although that was great news, I barely registered it. The crowd went wild, and the other heroes weren't happy with me. After all the villains and monsters I had faced in my years, a little coworker drama was nothing to worry about. Even the animosity with Maestro felt petty and baseless at this point.

There was a thrum of something more important than that radiating through the arena.

My eyes moved through the audience of thousands enjoying the show. The host railed off some facts that I didn't care to listen to. A message from Clara told me that everything was okay.

It was. But that's exactly why I felt uncomfortable. Knowing how my life worked, there was no chance I was escaping this day unscathed. Some of yesterday's exhaustion was coming through as pessimism. I couldn't catch a break.

"For now, we are going to give our heroes a short break as we prepare for the next challenge."

Clearly, I needed a pep talk.

//Clara: I'll have Rockslide meet you in the break room.
//Clara: Next challenge will be more intense, so take a breather.
//Clara: I will be staying on recon.

The fact that everything was playing to the tune of my inner monologue made the prospect of my assassination even more unpalatable. Although, the chance to see Roxy was like a glass of cold water for my parched mind.

With what felt like every pair of eyes in the world on me, I sought out some comforting darkness.