Too Dangerous to Touch

Chapter 1

The titanium alarm clock on the nightstand didn't shatter into a dozen pieces when I slapped the snooze button, it merely let out a dull thud and kept right on ticking.

I sat up in bed, stretched my shoulders until my chest expanded, and let out a long sigh of satisfaction. The mattress beneath me, made of five-layer memory foam, took my weight with ease.

For over a decade as Steeltitan, the Hero Bureau’s top-ranking S-tier juggernaut, I’d constantly worried about breaking stuff.

Every second of my old life had been lived behind a brake pedal, constantly holding back ninety-nine percent of my power so I wouldn't accidentally crush a mug, break a handrail, or send a fragile human flying through a window with a pat on the back.

Here at Heroes Landing, I didn't have to pull a single punch.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, planting my bare feet onto the heated hardwood flooring. I stood, towering at six-foot-four, and ran a hand through my dark hair before stretching my neck.

Walking over to my ensuite bathroom, I grabbed a steel toothbrush custom-cast in my shop.

I brushed my teeth while staring out the window at the misty pine valley below.

The morning light was just beginning to break over the mountain peaks surrounding my fifty-acre estate.

It was isolated, peaceful, and entirely off the grid. Exactly the kind of fortress I needed.

"Good morning, Master Carlos," a synthesized mechanical voice echoed from the doorway.

I turned, wiping my mouth with a towel. Standing in the doorway was G.I.D.E.O.N.—General Infrastructure the droid is currently awaiting a replacement actuator in the workshop." G.I.D.E.O.N.’s sensors flickered. "In addition, I have recalibrated the sensors in Guest Suite 1 for a high-yield elemental guest."

I paused, my fork hovering halfway to my mouth. "Planning ahead, Gid?"

"Planning is my most important directive," G.I.D.E.O.N.

said smoothly. "Given your mission on establishing this sanctuary for retired and burned-out personnel, it is inevitable that high-risk individuals will eventually seek entry.

It is merely a matter of time before someone arrives, and my sources indicate precisely who it will be. "

I chewed thoughtfully, looking out the grand kitchen window at the peaceful mountain. "No spoilers then. I’m looking forward to finding out who it is.”

I stood on the timber porch, sipping coffee, as the morning mountain air filled my lungs.

Surrounding Heroes Landing were fifty secluded acres nestled in a high alpine valley, flanked by cliffs that kept us away from civilians. I set my mug down on a railing and rolled up the sleeves of my flannel shirt. For me, relaxation didn't mean sitting still. I needed to do some manual labor.

I walked over to the woodpile near the equipment shed. A storm three nights ago had felled a pair of pines across the eastern road. I had already dragged the trunks back to the clearing by hand. Now, I needed to split them.

I grabbed a steel splitting maul, swung it up over my shoulder, and brought it down.

With a loud crack, the pine log sheared cleanly down the center, splintering into two perfect halves. I stacked the half-logs onto my shoulder—three at a time, easily four hundred pounds of timber—and tossed them onto the rickety stack by the lodge wall.

When I finished with the wood, I turned my attention to the tractor. The front hydraulics had been binding up. I walked up to the front, gripped the four-ton tractor, and lifted the front end three feet off the gravel.

I leaned down, inspected the lower pivot pin, and used my left thumb and forefinger to pinch a bent pin straight. I greased the joint, tapped the pin back into position, and set the tractor down smoothly on the driveway.

I then wiped my hands on a rag, letting out a sigh of contentment.

Around noon, a chime echoed from the speaker mounted under the porch.

"Master Carlos," G.I.D.E.O.N., said. "Signal intercepted from the Hero Bureau public relations network. You may wish to review this immediately."

I tossed the rag aside and stepped into the living room. Above the massive stone fireplace, a holographic display flickered to life, showing a news report from District 4.

The camera bounced chaotically, capturing a panicked street scene in the heart of the financial sector. Heat shimmers distorted the air so severely that the skyscrapers looked warped.

In the center of an intersection, a crater of bubbling asphalt burned. Emergency vehicles were parked back two blocks, fire hoses spraying chemical foam that vaporized into steam the second it touched the air.

A female reporter spoke over the roar of sirens:

"...repeating our top story, S-tier hero Solaris—Chloe Sterling—has executed a catastrophic flare during a routine response call in District 4.

Witnesses describe a plasma discharge that melted two squad cars and three lanes of traffic.

While no civilian casualties have occurred, municipal damages are currently evaluated in excess of fourteen million dollars... "

The broadcast cut to a brief, shaky telephoto video of Chloe Sterling being escorted out of a Bureau staging pavilion toward a heavily insulated transport SUV.

I narrowed my eyes, taking her in. Even through the news lens, the blonde superhero looked utterly exhausted. She was a walking furnace, trapped inside a body that was burning her out from the inside.

"She's redlining," I said quietly, my voice heavy. "Her power output’s too high for her body to ground it. Been holding it in for so damn damn long."

"Current satellite feed indicates the transport carrying Miss Sterling has departed District 4," G.I.D.E.O.N. reported, wheeling beside me. "And the agents driving swiftly retreated from the vehicle. She took the wheel and drove away, turning toward this very location.”

I turned away from the screen, my mind already spinning. "So the word got out about this place then. Think she’s coming here?”

"A logical deduction," G.I.D.E.O.N. replied. "Shall I prepare Guest Suite 1 in the East Wing?"

"Yeah," I nodded, rolling my shoulders. "Let's make sure she’s got a place to land."