Agent Iron was not having a good time.
The past few months had been an absolute hassle thanks to the higher-ups in the S3. Out of a mixture of admiration for his skills as an agent and spite for his tendency to be bribed, they kept sending him on the most challenging missions around. First he had to fight a rogue super soldier. Then he had to singlehandedly dismantle an entire black market selling old technology that wasn't monitored by the government. And then he was assigned on a stakeout mission with that roidhead agent Clay of all people. Just when he thought his hardships were over, and he could go back to a nice and easy life of making cancer researchers "die by suicide," that government-damn balls cyborg showed up.
"Hey, Not-Iron!" the girl he was taking on a date said angrily. "Quit ignoring me, you jerk!"
"Huh? Oh. Sorry." Iron reached up to adjust his sunglasses, then remembered he was in plain clothes so he didn't have any. "How long until we get to the club?"
"Uuurgh!" the girl grumbled. "We're not at the stupid club, we're at the museum of ancient history. You know, the place you've been promising to take me to for the whole week? Oh, you are so lucky my standards are incredibly low these days."
"Sorry," Agent Iron mumbled absentmindedly. "It's not my fault that I wasn't paying attention to you though. I was too busy thinking of balls-"
"You WHAT?!"
"Wait, no, that's not what I meant-"
"So what did you mean?!"
"I, uhhh... oh hey look, the tour guide's here!" Iron pointed to a smartly dressed woman walking towards them. "We should stop talking and listen to what she has to say."
"Hello and welcome to the ancient history museum!" the guide beamed. "You must be group A I presume. Thanks so much for coming here, it's fantastic to know that people still care about the past of their country- hang on." She pointed at agent Iron. "You look familiar."
"In... what way?" Iron asked, unsure how to respond.
"You look identical to this guy I went on a date with the other day. You won't believe it, but his name was straight up 'Not-Iron!'"
Shit, thought Iron. He could feel his current date's eyes boring into him like a pair of laser drills.
"I don't know what was up with that name. Maybe he came from another sector, or even another country for that matter. Or maybe his parents were celebrities who wanted attention-"
"Okayyy, if you're not going to do the tour, I'll do the tour!" Iron walked up to the nearest information board and began reading off it as fast as he could. "Our country, the Progressive Democratic Oligarchy (or PDO for short) was not always called this! In the distant past it was called the United States of America (USA for short), a powerful nation known for important cultural works like "Skibidi Biden" and its catchy national anthem Hava Nagila..."
Government-dammit, why does this always happen to me? Iron thought as he continued reciting the info. What was supposed to be a temporary peace from the slog of his work had turned into something even more stressful. And to make matters worse, he couldn't stop thinking about that stupid cyborg! Not only was the metal-balled killer going after civilians without rhyme or reason, but for some reason he was downright impossible to track by any conventional means. Who knows what his next plans could be? And who knows where he could be at this very moment...?
***
"You!" roared Norm at the sight of the cyborg. Normally Norm would've needed a few pills to pull off a confrontation of such an aggressive nature, yet this time around his sheer anger did the work for him.
"Yes it's me," replied the cyborg, unfazed by the furious man stomping towards him. "Do you want to play tennis or not?"
"THE ONLY GAME I WANNA PLAY IS... uh ... is ..." Norm stopped dead in his tracks as he realised he did not have a witty comeback ready. "Uh... is... is..."
"Is what?"
"Is... A GAME WHERE YOU FUCKING DIE!" Norm charged at the cyborg and swung a punch, although a mixture of fear, bad form and a weak body made the punch more like a slightly aggressive tap. Even if the cyborg wasn't the combat-trained powerhouse that he was, he still would've felt nothing from that "attack."
"I don't think any of the sports facilities here could kill me," said the cyborg, looking around the area. "And my balls are waterproof so even swimming wouldn't cause me any negative effects. Honestly, I came here hoping for a game of tennis, are you up for one?"
"You're... not exactly the smartest guy around, are you?" Norm said with a forced grin. "Like, you're here. Right in the HQ of the guys that are hunting you down. So what's stopping me from-" Immediately, Norm turned and ran. He sprinted towards the nearest door with all the strength he could muster. Which admittedly wasn't much, and he did run out of breath 3 times in the process, but still. Somehow a missile hadn't hit him. He kept moving forward. The door was only a few steps away. He reached it, pushed his hands against it and-
It was locked.
Norm turned around to see that the cyborg hadn't moved an inch from his last position. He hadn't even pulled down his pants. Instead, he was in the middle of giving a lengthy explanation about how he sealed off the area and wiretapped the drones without setting off any alarms. But Norm didn't care about the explanation. With a trembling hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. If nothing else, he could at least call the police, he thought. But then he realised his phone was out of battery thanks to the limo journey earlier.
"Ok, I'm all out of options," Norm admitted, shuffling awkwardly back towards the cyborg. "I guess I'll humour you. It'll break the fatphobia laws but I don't wanna risk getting into an argument with a walking rocket launcher."
"Whatever floats your boat." The cyborg handed Norm a spare racket.
***
The tennis match was going about as well as you'd expect for a game between a guy who clearly had experience with the game and a guy who hadn't exercised his entire life. Norm was growing more and more tired by the second. He loathed the newfound sensations he was experiencing, from the ache in his muscles to the sweat trickling down his back. If he was angry before, he was furious beyond comprehension now. On top of failing at his tasks and being forced to go against the law, he was to be further humiliated like this? His mind reached that dangerous place where rage grows large enough to eclipse logic, and all of a sudden he didn't care that the cyborg could shoot rockets from his nutsack.
"You sick fucking bastard," Norm snarled. "When the S3 catches you I'll make sure you're in for a world of pain. I'll have those balls of yours smelted while they're still attached to you."
"Why are you so angry?" asked the cyborg, with no change in his eternally calm voice. "Were you a fan of one of the criminals I killed?"
"Shut up." Norm tried to hit the ball directly in the cyborg's face but he missed his racket by quite a margin. "You're the criminal here. You murdered my boss in cold blood yesterday. For no reason as well!"
"If you're referring to the boss of the bug burger plant, he was involved in a rather disgusting series of assault cases." The cyborg gestured for Norm to go get the ball. "If you're referring to the boss of Soyberg tower, he was a convicted pedophile, used large amounts of his fortune to fund chemical weaponry, and also destroyed people's houses to make room for his 22nd holiday home. And if you're referring to that mobile game developer, I just grew sick and tired of seeing '99% of people can't beat this!' every time I went online."
"You are one trigger-happy exhibitionist, aren't you?" Norm said through gritted teeth. He decided to purposefully not get the ball.
"These people committed all those horrible crimes, and escaped the law thanks to their status, and this is what you're worried about?" The cyborg shot Norm a puzzled look. "It's because it's more convenient, isn't it? If the big names in society are actually as favourable as they are made out to be? You don't want to be the odd one out and speak badly of a popular celebrity, nor do you want to live with the harsh truth that the system isn't always on your side. If you ask me, society truly begins to fall when people choose convenience over morality."
"J-just s-stop talking!" spluttered Norm. He ran after the ball and served it with all his remaining strength. "You've ruined everything for me!" The cyborg hit it back, and for the first time since the start of the game, Norm was able to return it. "Before you came into my life, my biggest worry was the upcoming government 3 days. Now it's making sure I don't die."
"Government 3 days?" The cyborg gave a puzzled look as he scored another point against Norm.
"It's the biggest public holiday of the year," Norm explained, scurrying after the ball. "As the name suggests, it's a whole 3 days with no work, to say thanks to our government for always looking out for us."
"Free time makes you worried?" Another point scored, another confused expression on the cyborg's face. "I understand this holiday happens for a terrible reason, but still. It's free time."
"Exactly," said Norm. "3 whole days without any form of work. What the hell am I supposed to do for all that time? It'll be fun for like the first few hours then I'll just sit around getting bored."
"You are a sad man."
"Excuse me?!" Norm threw his racket on the floor and stomped towards the cyborg. "I am NOT sad! I'm normal! I don't do anything weird, I don't do anything extra, I don't do anything society frowns upon-"
"Ok. So you don't act in a way that draws the attention of anyone who could complain," noted the cyborg. "But take away all the critics, and is there anything left of you? Like you said, there are plenty of things which you are not... but is there anything you actually are?"
Norm stood there in silence. He wanted to tell the cyborg to stop talking again. Yet for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it this time around.
"It has been a fun game," the cyborg said, checking his watch. "But the wiretaps I've placed should wear off soon, and the 'maintenance break' I announced for the sports facilities is almost over. I better start making my move." He pulled down his pants and trousers, and from either side of his scrotum a thin metal pipe extended. After reaching a suitable distance, these cylinders then went up at a 90 degree angle and propeller blades extended from their tops. "Before I go, I have one thing to say." He looked Norm directly in the eyes as the propellers began to spin. "Make sure you sit back and think about what you really want to do with your life. And then ask yourself, what do you really gain from working here at the S3? Because I see glimmers of a good man within you. And you should not let those glimmers die out for good."
"Uh, actually you said more than one thing," pointed out Norm.
"You're right." The propellers span faster, and the cyborg began to lift off the ground. "In fact, I have yet another thing I want to ask- what's your name?"
"I'm, er..." Norm thought for a moment before replying. "A-Agent Normal!"
"I'm also an agent," the cyborg replied with a small grin. "You can call me agent Stef." And with that, his helicopter balls carried him up into the sky and far, far away from the S3 HQ. Norm just looked up at the sky in bewilderment, and stayed that way long after agent Stef was completely gone. It would be a while before his mind would be able to process everything that just happened.
"Wow!" a familiar obnoxious voice sounded. "Hey guys, look at this!" Norm stopped looking at the sky and turned around to see agent Clay pointing at him while beckoning to a large group of agents. "This idiot was inside the sports facilities during a maintenance break!" Unable to resist the opportunity, Clay sprinted up to Norm and gave him a massive shove. "Hey you, if I found out you gave the cleaners a hard time I'm gonna take that racket you've got there and shove it up your ass!"
Norm got to his feet and fled the sports facilities before Clay could cause any more trouble. He checked his watch and realised it was time for his afternoon pill. But then he realised something. For some inexplicable reason, he already had the same feeling he got after consuming a pill. Yet more intense. More satisfying. More... authentic, if that made sense. His mind was perfectly clear, and he felt energised in a way that he had never felt before.
A smile crept on Norm's face as he went off to find Iron.