Built Different [Cyborg Superhero ProgFant]

Reality had a strange way of…

Hmm. I furrowed my brow. The Meteor hummed, but there was no other noise. Across the front of the interior, the last frame of the video message had stuck. A freeze frame that left me with no second guesses over who was tied to a chair.

It didn't seem real. I had to question whether my mental exhaustion had hit me a little harder than I realized. There was no way of telling. While I hadn't received a—at least historically—detrimental amount of physical damage, my brain had been stomped flat and shoveled back into my skull. Not only from overusing my fresh synapse-connected arm, but from the emotional toll of having my shadows dragged into the light.

Even Silhouette had been a little out of sorts. His amnesia was more settled in, and I was envious of that. The sharp edges of my half-memories had slowly bled me over the months of my awakening. Fighting Chevalier and having that bandaid torn off had left an open wound in my psyche. Not painful, but uncomfortable. Trauma that shifted my usual stoic attitude into something disjointed.

Mania had been a frequent visitor in these circumstances where I suffered physical or mental damage. With that experience, even my Government-controlled brother was something I could just about accept. Or at least ignore until a time I could safely decompress.

But seeing this figure in front of me… my creator and 'savior'… all remaining chains holding my mental faculties together melted away. Loose cannon with fixed purpose.

"Who… is that?" Roxy asked.

Not on the same page, but she could read me like a book, even if the pages were distorted and chaotic. Her voice didn't soothe me, but gave the building pressure a diversion. I syphoned.

[That is Boss. As to why he is kidnapped and being shown to me, I can only speculate.]

She grimaced and looked at the freeze-frame again. "Motherfuckers," she whispered.

Some irony in her remark, as I was pretty sure that my brothers and I had been grown in a lab. More likely, she was being figurative. In which case, I agreed.

[Probably picked him up soon after I broke ties. It's difficult to remain incognito against the World Government.]

"You think they've been keeping him back to see how Chevalier fared?"

[I think they win either way.]

The super gave me a quizzical look, but didn't ask me what I was babbling about. She was probably filtering herself into the same thought process - or at least could see the look in my eyes and knew not to pry open my pressurized skull.

I couldn't save the world.

The World Government wanted one thing. To disrupt the control and power of the League of Heroes so that they could take over management of Goldarch. Killing me was an aside. A dirty loose end that threatened the careers of a few bigshots, no doubt. As luck would have it, they had already stacked the deck in their favor against me. My foray into the limelight was the perfect time for them to lay their cards out on the table.

Now chaos reigned over the streets of Goldarch.

Despite the evacuation of the Arena being completed safely and efficiently, the surrounding roads had become clogged with traffic. Sidewalks were empty as civilians locked themselves away in their homes, businesses, or any building that would take them. The city was under a mandated lockdown to reduce the number of casualties. Every hero from the meager D-Ranks to the upper A-Ranks mobilized against dozens of issues throughout every quarter of Goldarch.

Then here I was. Fledgling hero with a dark past. A central spindle that calamities could be pinned to. The Arena was the centerpiece to instill panic within the city. In addition to the League of Villains causing problems throughout the city, the power of heroes was stretched thin. Fertile ground for doubt to be sown.

That said, the Gov must have had doubts of their own. Whether Chevalier could put down one of his brothers. Them having Boss gave them a backup plan, and if my brother had been successful in putting me in the grave, then they might be able to leverage their kidnapped scientist with the League.

"How are you doing?"

Roxy placed her hand on my arm, and I could feel the warmth even through my jacket. My thoughts had been pretty straightforward, up until her voice jostled the process.

[I… uh. Haven't fully processed.]

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

A coin flip. Did I even really care about saving Boss? Part of me wanted to murder him, I was sure. The other half wanted answers… or at least closure. Perhaps more importantly, we needed something to do before my brain shut off and I was useless for the rest of the day.

The Meteor was struggling to get around the terrible traffic and tight alleys of the city. We were moving, but I had no idea where to. In search of answers, my lens burned at my eyeballs as I opened up the chat with Clara. She had already anticipated my question.

//Clara: No updates on Chevalier, although I'm sure he will show up when ready.
//Clara: Kingston's location still unknown.
//Clara: There are several minor gang and villain issues we could assist with.
//Clara: The people who sent you that video…
//Clara: They left enough metadata to make finding where they are child's play.

"A trap then," Roxy concluded, her expression souring.

If it was the Government that had him, then they wanted me to show up. Another ploy to kill me, perhaps. Surely they would know that I was smart enough to see the obvious trap. Yet my brain was only capable of following a simple line of thought.

[It would be rude to keep them waiting then. Track them down.]

//Clara: We're already on the way there, Gunquake.

Read me like a book. Likewise, Roxy's face told me that she wasn't too sure my decision was the right one. Unfortunately, the picture had already been painted for me. The draw to finalize it and hang it up on the wall was too much of a set reality that I couldn't avoid the inevitability.

[It is likely that even if I make it out of this with my life, my position in the city may become… lost.]

Her burning eyes remained on me, boring through my goggles. The trap wouldn't just be a small gang of goons hoping to shoot me in the back from the shadows. The kidnappers probably didn't even leave any room in their plan for me to actually rescue Boss. They'd rather he died if I got too close. It would be dangerous. With a capital A.

I frowned.

"You know I'm going to stick by you, Dubs," the super said. "No matter what happens."

I nodded. Vertigo tugged at the motion gently, the creeping claws of sleep pulling me toward being horizontal. I resisted.

[Trouble will spill out into the open. Our actions in full view.]

"What I said still stands."

Of course. I rubbed at my forehead; my brain wanted to escape. We had always said our loyalty was to each other, not the League. It was time to put it into practice. The World Government didn't care for the usual discretion that the Natural Disasters were afforded. If they were struggling to kill me directly, then outing my old profession to Goldarch was another way to make my life a little more difficult.

[I'm going to need that go-go juice ASAP. I… need to be present for everything.]

//Clara: You can have something that will keep you awake until we get there, Gunquake.
//Clara: For actual energy, you will need to be in combat.
//Clara: Otherwise, your organs will explode.
//Clara: Literally. I shouldn't legally have these compounds.

Roxy stood up and went to the back of the Meteor. The vehicle had slowed somewhat as we tried to maneuver around a junction via the sidewalk. She withdrew something from one of the side sections and stepped back over to me.

"Handily, the first one comes in a canister." Her smile wasn't too convincing, but I allowed her access to the side of my neck. "Like a shot of espresso."

Regardless of what it would actually do to me, I sat in silence as she unclipped my current canister and removed it. New one snapped in and a flood of comforting cold ran down my veins. The draw of sleep didn't really lessen, but it at least felt more manageable.

[I suppose this is what I deserve for trying to grandstand against Maestro.]

Roxy gave me a soft smile as she sat down in the seat beside me once more. She inhaled slowly and twirled the discarded canister between her fingers. "Ah, I don't know about that. You came pretty close to winning."

[I did, didn't I?]

Letting out a sigh of my own, I slumped into the chair. My recent existence was punctuated with a handful of very long and painful days. This was another. In some ways the most, but also… not as terrible as it seemed. No longer bleeding and broken in the shadows, alone and emotionless. I had actual personal and social power. A pinnacle of character growth. I was ready to face the world, even if I couldn't save it.

A small army of Government thugs and hired assassins was just another weekday.

"Perhaps a rather tactless thought," Roxy continued, raising an eyebrow to the various digital screens. "But you still have an opportunity to save face. Make yourself look the hero."

[It's unlikely I'll be conscious enough to see it. I'm assuming that we have arranged a secondary base away from the city that Belle can teleport us to in an emergency? If living in the city becomes untenable.]

//Clara: No. Scheduled for next week, unfortunately.

[Shame.]

The interior of the Meteor fell silent once again. We had found a path through the turmoil filling the streets, and were moving in a specific direction. Going to the location of Boss was inevitable. Something that really drove home the reality of the situation. Our vehicle muted the sounds of chaos outside quite well, but that almost meant my own thoughts were further compounded.

Fighting Chevalier was simple, even if difficult and uncomfortable for my gray matter. A bunch of villains and gangs causing trouble were the bread and butter of a hero. Jumping into a sure trap to potentially come face to face with Boss after all these years was…

An end. Didn't matter who lived or died.

While the Government had stacked the deck against me and the League, that just meant I had everything to win. A way to bury my past for good. Both in my own mind, and in the literal sense. All I had to do was survive.

//Clara: Approaching the destination now. Fifteen minutes.
//Clara: Large industrial complex. Records from the last week show unusual activity.
//Clara: Expect a high volume of hostile forces.

[How could it be any other way?]

Roxy rolled her neck and flexed her fingers. "I almost feel sorry for the dumb fucks." Her eyes switched to me. They were dark, the fire flickering behind them a ruddy red rather than their usual bright flame. "They've underestimated us."

We weren't exactly turning villain, but if the Gov hadn't picked up on the evidence that we weren't quite upstanding citizens, then…

It was their funeral.