“I’m not the superhero type,” I told him, rolling my eyes.
My chair was comfy as I sat down and sipped my drink.
“But you get to wear a cool costume.”
I laughed at my friend’s words.
Pops was a six-inch robot that I’d created as a graduation present. Back then he couldn’t do any outrageous tasks except move and put a ball through a hoop. Over the years I’d advanced him, and now he was his own little person, programmed with emotional recognition and a full range of thoughts and actions. He was my best friend.
Pops’s real name was Popeye, after the TV show I watched as a child. His original torso shell was actually made from a Popeye Spinach can. We kept it for a while, but he asked for an upgrade a few years ago, and I figured it was time. His arms were thin and could move like any humans could, same with his legs. He had a small line for a mouth, but his internal speaker made him sound like his voice was coming from his little lips.
His black eyes were looking at me, and even though he couldn’t move them expressively, I was able to tell what his mood was by his tone. He’d taught me that.
Tiny clinks on the desk brought my attention to my other friend: Cora, my robot dragon.
I like reading fantasy novels in my spare time, and I’ve always been obsessed with dragons, so Cora was a fun project. She has evolved quite well, and now acts like both a cat and dog, depending on the situation. She couldn’t talk like Pops, but she was highly intelligent.
Her length, from her snout to the tip of her metal tail, was about eighteen inches. She was completely covered in shiny metal, but her eyes were big and blue. She opened her mouth and huffed—her way of saying hello—while walking on all fours over to me.
She was considerably light since I used tungsten for the robotic parts, microlattice for the exterior, and for the wings I used graphene. All were very durable metals, and lightweight, making her the perfect agile and strong creature that she was.
Cora was my guardian when I had my little meltdowns. She protected me until I came back around after a half hour or so. Her little body held many extra traits. She could lift up to two hundred and fifty pounds and could fly, but carrying that weight while in flight was something we were working on. She was also able to create a small flame from her mouth, but has programming that restricts her from using it unless I or she were in danger. Though, she found ways around it sometimes.
Both Pops’s and Cora’s batteries held enough energy for three days, but I gave them both some solar charging panels just in case they didn’t make it to their charging beds in time.
“He’s putting my cozy robots out there, and for the price I’m asking. I should be able to help people, right?”
I didn’t know how great I’d be at being a hero, but I felt like I did have things I could offer this world to people who were hurting and alone.
Pops didn’t say anything, letting me form my own thoughts, and Cora was eyeing a reflection of light on my desk like she was about to pounce on it.
I drank another sip of water and toasted myself: to being a hero, and whatever madness would entail.
Chapter Two
Arthur
Blood was oozing from my right temple, and my sight was going fuzzy. Hell, my whole body felt weak.
At least I went down fighting like a hero instead of running like a coward.
There were men standing a short distance away, I barely recognized the heroes covered in gore. They were talking about going back into the past, and then Asher, the Hero Society’s witch, did something with a sword and lightning.
The wind started to spin around them, while the storm increased its severity.
My head started to pound, and my eyelids had lost the will to stay open. I was about to die.
I wished I’d made better decisions—that I’d done the things I wanted, instead of what my family wanted for me. That I’d chosen a better girl, because the one I thought I was going to marry left me when things got hard and never looked back.
So many mistakes, and now I had to die knowing I’d made all the wrong choices.
“Fuck!”
I sat up in a rush, my hands going to my head to feel for the blood, but there was none.
I was alive.
Sweaty, and my body was still shaken up, but alive.
