---17th, August, 2099, Monday Morning---

---Fortin Libertad, Palacio Presidencial---

"You want me to… what?” Yeah, I’m not getting it.

*puff* *puff*

El Machissimo, the president supreme, kinda looks like Fidel Castro. In a big ass suit of power armor. Enjoying a cigar and margarita while sitting on an oversized reinforced chair behind a huge heavy oak desk. Now that’s not to say he really is a bearded latino. Sometimes he looks african. Sometimes asian. Boss likes disguises, a lot. Sort of a hispanic Inspector Clouseau Space Marine.

The only way to really be sure it’s him is that oversized bulky red suit of armor.

Though the very few times I’ve seen the guy in civvies. Have been in this mansion with him looking, and sounding, very latin american. Yeah, the dictator of Fort Liberty has trust issues. Color me not surprised.

Fidel, official last name is Mancebo, has a big ol grin on his face. “You heard me, El Muerto Sombro, I want you to go to school.”

Ugh. Whenever boss calls me “the death shadow.” It means he is scheming. And if his lab’s permanent "0 days since last accident" sign is any indication? Big braining is not one of his super powers.

Give him my best Dicaprio squint.

“That’s not my name.” Don’t have one because fuck stupid codenames. “Are you adding weed to your stogies again?” He’s done it before. Once, after a really big smoke off, the whole palace reeked for days afterwards.

We’re in his version of the old U.S. “oval office.” Meaning fewer blues and whites. More reds and greens. Plus various gizmos and a couple of retractable minigun turrets. Also he’s reversed the layout. So his desk faces the windows and is back against the opposite wall.

"Perhaps." Exhales a suspicious smelling smoke ring.

At the moment the sun has just come up. I've gotten zero sleep. And no pussy. So I'm a bit cranky.

But also curious.

"Why me?"

"Because you are young, gringo." Points at me while holding his half gone cigar between the fingers of a gauntlet. "And a gringo."

I'm beginning to understand. "Ah, this is an alliance school?"

"Si, mi amigo."

Okay, that makes sense. I'm about as caucasian as you can get. Though spending years around the equator has given me an awesome tan. Been coloring my hair blonde too. Big change from the scrawny pasty kid with black hair. Now look like a ripped surfer dude.

A look which does not at all fit what people expect when they hear “shadow powers.” Like that automatically transforms me into an emo goth kid or something.

Alliance means an ACA school. Allied City-states of America. Over half of North America's enclaves are members. Mostly it's a mutual defense pact, with each being pretty autonomous. Though Columbia, on the east coast, is technically the league’s capital.

"Where?"

"Nueva Angeles."

Life as a merc teaches you to never let them see you sweat. But I would be lying if I said I was happy right now. No it's not Frisco, my home town. But it's uncomfortably damn close. Got some real ugly history there.

Pause. “What school?”

The mature woman in a business suit with a pencil skirt, standing behind El Machissimo, finally speaks.

“De Neve Academy.”

Fernanda Figueroa is a classic hispanic beauty. Reminds me of Salma Hayek. She is also one of boss’s “personal” secretaries. Means Ferny regularly handles his, “dictation.”

Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Eh? Have I fucked her? Dude, of course I have. Broke her over a year ago. Besides, Fidel’s got a pretty large "secretarial pool." And he hasn’t been serious with any woman since his wife was assassinated ten years ago.

Wait. “Felipe de Neve Superhero Academy? That supe college?” Well, at least it's not a high school. I can't be some twenty-something actor pretending to be a teenager. Don't have that kind of range.

“Si.”

Yes? Just a yes from her? Maybe I should remind-

“Relax, my friend, calm yourself.” Boss waves a gauntlet. “Miss Figueroa knows how important this is to me.” A metal plated hand reaches back and squeezes her ass. “My kitten is just being cautious, no?”

Ferny lets slip a little moan before stifling it and blushes. But manages to nod in response. She taps on the digital tablet in her hands. Causing a hologram to appear above the desk.

*schwing*

Whoa, she's a babe. A robo-babe. In latin, she'd be called babia majora.

Like a late teen’s Roselyn Sanchez. But with bigger tits. Jesus, what are those, D’s? Double D’s? Huh. Is she a new secretary? Cousin? Business partner? Terrorist? Telemarketer?

Yes, I am in denial. Just let me float in the river for a bit. Before life fishes me out again.

“Um, boss?” Innocently ask as I adjust my suddenly uncomfortable pants. Staying seated so I don't totally understandably get blasted by an upset particle beam cannon.

Dammit, my lightsaber is sensing a disturbance in the force. Please don’t say daughter. Please don’t say daughter. Please don’t say daughter.

“This is mija.”

Oh, thank god, that was "my daughter" in spanish. So it doesn’t count. Can still bone her. Whew, that was a close one there, buddy, wasn’t it?

…

Why are you looking at me like that?

Ferny chooses to end the awkward silence since I’m busy imagining said hologram naked.

"Miss Susana Mancebo has been attending overseas boarding schools for a decade as Vanessa Magrina." Sad face. "Only meeting her father, in secret, a few times a year."

*puff* *puff*

"Mija graduated with honors." Fidel's got that proud papi expression. "Awakened at Rank E. And won a full scholarship to De Neve Academy." Toasts with his margarita. "You will join on a hardship scholarship from Libertad and interfere when needed to protect her."

"Hardship scholarship?" What the fuck is that?

"De Neve alumni," Fernanda answers, "can recommend disadvantaged metahumans to the academy board." Wow, how much did that cost him?

"Okay… but isn't it the Felipe de Neve Superhero Academy?"

"Hahaha!" Fidel guffaws. "A few in each class always go villain. And I should know, amigo. Because I, me, am alumni!" More laughing.

Holy shit.

Ferny clears her throat. "El Presidente Supremo is one of the academy's biggest donors each year." Taps on the tablet again. Bringing up a picture of me. "Your cover will be an orphaned new hire awakened by a lab accident."

"Geesh, an orphan? Fine, whatever, but no way am I going as a poor orphan."

Boss growls and chomps on his stogie. "You will act however I tell you too, amigo."

Cross my arms. "No chance, el presidente." Sneer back at him. "You tell me where to fight. Not how to live." Scoff. "Besides, I'm a Rank B. What the hell can they teach me?"

Oops, forgot to go over ranks. Will try to make this quick. There are twelve ranks. Basically having to do with how much mana is in the body and its density.

Originally there were nine. I-rank, is the "nameless" rank. It's basically babies and children. H-rank, lead, is most teens and adults. Then G-rank, tin, are elite normies like athletes and soldiers.

F-rank, copper, is where you start leaving "human" behind. And is the level most metas awaken at. E-rank, iron, is next. Then D-rank, bronze, are the strongest metas. D's can usually slaughter normies wholesale.

Super ranks start with C-rank, steel. Then B-rank, silver. Lastly A-rank, gold. These were the peak of human potential until improvements in training and refined veneficum injections surpassed them.

Three new ranks were added twenty years after the apocalypse. S-rank, platinum. SS-rank, palladium. And finally SSS-rank, rhodium. The ultras. Named after the first S-rank, Ultramax.

Around 99.9% who awaken do so in the meta ranks. Then through training and "supplements," super-steroids. They begin slowly climbing. The 0.1% that awaken as supers are lauded as prodigies.

"Bah!" El Machissimo rolls his eyes. "Fine, bendejo, we will say you won the lottery. Contento?"

"I'll be happier when I know how long and how much." Frown. "Three months? Six?" Ferny makes another tap and I see the contract on my retinal display. "Three years?!"

Four year programs don't exist anymore. Humans ain't got no time for that. Pretty much everyone is on board with primary education going from seven to fifteen. Secondary from sixteen to eighteen. And tertiary from nineteen to twenty-one.

Quadrary education is only for the specialized careers and runs from twenty-two to twenty-four. Though most city-states are more flexible about tertiary and quadrary since many have a three year mandatory military service after secondary school.

*crunch*

El Machissimo crushes the metal margarita cup in his armored glove. "Bato! This is a good contract, for a merc." Oh it's on like donkey kong. "You think I'll leave mija unprotected?!"

*crash*

*vnnn* *chak*

I jump up onto the big ass desk as ironbutt rapidly stands. Motors whining and shoving his large chair back into the wall as Ferny leaps out of the way. The hum of his lightning gun priming is met with the snap of me quick-drawing a 15mm hand cannon from an underarm holster.

Its chrome muzzle presses against Fidel’s forehead. While the now glowing emitter mounted above his forearm is touching my chest. The massive pistol is held gangster grip style. So we can glare at each other clearly.

"Always wondered what supe-killers would do to a gold ranker." I grin.

He growls back. "As I pondered the smell of burnt shadows, cabron."

A few feet away, Fernanda gets back on her feet. Dusts herself off. Turns and clears her throat. 

"Ahem. I suggest a compromise." Looks at the tablet. "An annual contract with a renewal option." Fidel growls so she adds. "Performance clauses and engagement rules." I snarl so she also adds. "Plus expense account." 

We scowl at each other for a few seconds more. Then nod in sync and I [Dusk Step] onto the chair. Leaving a trail of dissipating black smoke. While he harpoons his throne with a cable shot from his waist and winches it back over. Sitting down. Then pulling two fresh stogies out of a box.

Tosses me one that I cut and light using powers. He does the same but uses the armor.

*puff* *puff*

"300k alliance." I grumble.

"200k genevan." He grouses.

We both squint at each other.

Ferny sighs and massages her nose. "Two hundred and fifty thousand alliance dollars."

We pause… then nod again.

*puff* *puff*

Yep, there's reefer in these.

El Machissimo points at me. "Get mija pregnant? I'll cut your cojones off."

"Don't think I would make a good son-in-law?" Smirk. "That hurts… dad."

Boss’s teeth start to grind.

Miss secretary interrupts our posturing. "I will bring you the contract, briefs and analysis when they are ready, Mister Johnson."

"Whatever." Finger salute. "See ya, boss."

[Dusk Step] all the way out of the palace. A vital rule for all mercs. Never, ever, trust your employer.

…

Hours later.

"Harder."

*schlurp* *schlurp*

Fernanda's black haired head bobs up and down on my lap.

"Harder."

*gahg* *gahk*

Pieces of clothing, including a pencil skirt, make a trail from this master bedroom's door. To this master's bed.

"Ooh…♡"

*splurt*

Grab the back of her skull and pin miss lewd latina to my crotch. As I shoot ropes of seed down Ferny's throat. And deliver a pelvic thrust with each pulse.

Put your hands on your hips.

Though, sadly, it doesn't last very long. The wet and sticky chicas in naughty maid outfits laying beside me on this king sized bed have already about drained my balls dry.

*chu* *chu*

Their fingers trace my chest as we share sloppy kisses. Finally release the sexy secretary's head. Who immediately begins licking me clean. Tongue exploring every nook and cranny. 

"Haa… I love being me." Sage mode, I catch Ferny's eyes with mine. "So, what does boss really want?"

The senora I tamed and trained over a year ago only looks torn for a second before spilling the beans. "Master," can about see the hearts in her eyes, "el presidente wants you to break the young miss's heart."

Sigh.

Ever since my awakening. I tend to fuck up the women I fuck. And that's not just because I'm a selfish asshole. True, I was a virgin before that. So maybe my willy wonka's always been this way. Anywho, seems it's catnip for the kitties. 

Frazur says it's my "dragon essence" expressing its dominance. Whatever. Don't really care. I do enjoy watching their expressions melt and get all lust drunk though.

It's what comes afterwards that can get… messy. I've been slapped, scratched, punched, kicked and stabbed. Beat up, blown up, shot up, buried alive and burned alive.

Thank god I've got a ridiculous, even for supers, healing factor.

You see, I don't blame women for thinking I'm a "catch." World's gone to shit and the safest thing to be these days is a super's property. Guy or gal. Straight or bent. We're like the sports, music and movie stars of the before times. We've got status, influence and wealth.

At least compared to the rest of humanity.

But, when they sober up? Refreeze? Chicks either get really mad. Or really lovey. And the lovey ones eventually have to accept that they'll never be anything more than a pocket pussy to me, or leave.

Loop back to the getting really mad part.

Hey, everyone has their own emotional baggage. I've just got so much it needs its own trailer. Sorry, love ain't gonna happen. Like ever. Hell, I can barely manage friendships. Thank Saint Hefner my junk comes with built-in birth control.

If it didn't I'd have a hundred kids by now. Though Frazur does not approve. According to him, it's a gift to breed with lesser species. Yeah, seriously, no thanks.

So, El Machissimo thinking I'll emotionally scar his precious daughter? Is a pretty solid assumption based on a lot of empirical data. But leaves a big question.

Cup her chin and raise an eyebrow. "Why?"

"El Presidente is worried, master." The luscious sweaty flushed latina's eyes tremble. "He fears the young miss has been too sheltered. Is too kind, mi corazon. Concerned that she will not be ready for the wickedness of the world."

…

"Hehehe. How old is she?"

Yes, I chuckled. Couldn't help myself. Dude, what is it about fathers having no clue who their daughters really are? Wouldn't be surprised if Mija has had more spooge go through her than water through a lawn sprinkler in July. 

"Eighteen, master." Starts nuzzling my dick. "She graduated a year early from an all-girls preparatory school."

Yikes, even an overachiever? Yeah, that snatch gonna get wrecked. If it hasn't been already. Just because the students were one gender. Doesn't mean the teachers and staff were.

Huh.

Not sure I'll take a turn now. It's not as fun when you're expected to fuck everything up.

Squeeze a maid's breast. "When's my flight?" Flick a bean.

Miss prim and proper is a complete mess now. Squirming, butt naked. Long black hair all tangled. Squeezing and teasing fingers. Panting tongue. Fluttering eyelashes. And doing her best to get me hard again.

"Tomorrow morning, master. Please, mi corazon." Squishes my cock between her C-cups. "Let me help make your last day in Libertad, jubilosa."

Of course boss sent this secretarial slut to me today on purpose. To tattle on what he wouldn't admit to my face. That's why she was in the meeting. 

Fernanda is one of my few truly broken ones. Completely tamed and trained. Despite what porn and hentai pretends. It's actually rare to find a woman who will wholeheartedly embrace being a toy. Requires a special blend of max libido and below zero self-esteem. 

Bastard wants me to know he knows I know. Naturally I already know he knows I know he knows. So, you know, we both know.

"Sure, esclava." Grab a fistful of hair. "Show your master how much you'll miss him."

"Si," sweet smile, "muy si."

Time to put the lime in the coconut.