Lyle and I lightly ran. The neon lights were more the same. I wasn't blinded, the sunglasses helped.

The running wasn’t nearly as intensive as running laps with Donovan or following Thousand Cuts. I assumed Lyle was going easy. We were out in the field after all. There was no point in wasting energy. My breathing was steady.

The orphanage was down in the distance. The brick walling was intact. There were modifications however. The building had wood and scrap metal. Makeshift tables were at the front.

“This should be the place,” I stopped in my tracks. “That’s a little jog to get my blood pumping. Care to investigate?”

“Jog? Is that what you call a jog?” Lyle exclaimed.

“umm… is what I said a problem?” I stared at Lyle.

“No, there was never not a problem!”

“Okay?” My ears twitched. “Nobody said that there was a problem… Besides the monster infestation that is,” I reminded him of why we’re here.

“And I'm keeping it that way.”

I had nothing to say as I was too dumbfounded.

What has gotten into Lyle? Other than his on brand— everything.

Best not to dwell.

We arrived in the afternoon, so there must be kids nearby. I knocked on the door.

*Bang* *Bang *Bang*

“Hello?” I called out. There was no response. I waited, and knocked again.

*Bang* *Bang *Bang*

“Come on, I promise I won't bite if you answer,” I called out. “Huh, guess nobody's here,” I said, to the surprise of no one. My first lowered from the wooden frame.

“You don’t say. The door over there is unlocked. You can barge your way in.”

“How do you know that the door is unlocked?” I asked.

“I — just know, alright!”

“Whatever, Lyle,” I opened the door. He was right for once.

I went in. The floorboards were worn. They squawked with each step. Near me was a staircase that was long replaced with plywood.

To treat kids with such living conditions. It was horrendous, it was—

“Beautiful,” Lyle whispered. His hand hovered over the cracked wood, and on the water damage.

“Lyle, there is a door to the back,” Not to ponder his behavior, I pointed at the door.

“oh? Yeah — we shouldn't be bothering for too long,” he lifted his hand from the railing.

“Yeah, let's do that,” I opened the door. The previous dimness faded.

I saw a couple of children playing with a ball. The murkiness assaulted my nose.

The kids stopped what they were doing. Their ball dropped to the floor.

I sensed their eyes looking past Lyle. Their gazes landed on my ears.

Lyle is the one with the intimidating visor. Why are the kids staring at me specifically? Because of my cat ears?

They're only kids, I reminded myself.

I gestured at Lyle to come closer. He obliged — without complaint. He seemed — rigid. Lyle wasn't making the situation easy, despite his new attitude.

Looks like I was doing the talking.

I cleared my throat, ,”hello there… Kid, I want to talk with you for a second,” I reached out

There was an older boy I chose out of the kids. He appeared as the most mature out of the children. The boy hesitated back when I tried initiating contact.

I opened my palms, “hey. Hey. Hey. I'm not here to hurt you, see? I only need to ask some questions.”

The boy glanced away from my ears. “our caretaker said: not to talk with beastkin.”

Well, your caretaker is a bigot: is what I would say, but he was only a kid. He probably reacted to what he was told.

“See this insignia here?” I gestured at my duster, “I am with IMPERIAL. You can trust me.”

“Wow! You really are Imperial?” A child said. The orphans gathered around me.”

I nodded, “yes, indeed. Me and my… partner in the visor are out hunting monsters.”

“You mean you’re here to kill rats?” A girl from the group asked.

“Rats in the shape of monsters,” I corrected her. “I’m exterminating monsters, since I have a sense of duty to uphold.”

“Do you fight often?” Another kid asked.

“The Imperial talked with me first,” the boy said. “I'll get to talk with them.”

“Who said that you were the boss,” the children responded.

Another came out, “yeah who said Greg?”

“We aren’t playing a game,” the boy who I assumed was Greg. “Do you see the armor? See the badge?” Greg pointed. “You need to leave, unless you guys want less food on your plates.”

“Awe, whatever you say,” the children seemed dejected.

Was Greg pulling the orphans away necessary? I focused on Lyle. He nodded in approval. Although, Lyle wasn't exactly the best role model.

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I'm an operative who holds knives. Do I qualify as a good role model?

Perhaps I was too hasty.

I asked if the boy knew about the rats beside the orphanage

The boy nodded, “yes, I know. I can even show you. There are not a lot of adults who go here. You seem busy, I don't want anyone to interrupt your work.”

Lyle, me, and Greg walked through a broken fence. We trekked through the mud.

“Not many adults show up?” I asked. “Your caretaker didn't bother to show. I doubt there is that much safety, when I can barge in here.”

“My caretaker is out getting food. She means well. All of our money comes from strangers, not much from herself. Here is the place,” the orphan directed.

I was met with various debris as I slid my fingers over the corners; an entrance. The kid gestured and we went through. Greg followed me with ease, Lyle had a harder time. The tight space reminded me of my light frame. Lyle never had the displeasure of being short. I slowed my pace for his sake, that or the fact he was willing to scratch his armor to catch up.

The light shined on my sunglasses when I saw the other side. There was an abandoned playground. Metal bars were around the park, and some old swings. I noticed the cardboard boxes.

I stepped in the park, “so, I guess you played here often?” I asked Greg

“How did you know?” The boy asked.

I glanced all around me, “the boxes, the chairs. Even the furniture, which I am not sure how it got through such a tight space. There are signs that there was activity.”

“You are right, adults aren't allowed here.”

“How about a compromise then?” I placed my hand on his hair.

“A compromise?” Greg squirmed under my touch.

His reaction, he didn't fully trust me. He was afraid because I was a beastkin or that I was an authority figure, maybe the sharp claws? His reaction was a combination of the three.

What have Greg’s caretaker been saying to the orphans?

Whatever; I removed my touch, “I briefly go down the area, with you showing me around. How does that sound?”

The boy nodded, “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

— — —

On the inside was undoubtedly The Iron graveyard. The area was closed off with a fence and a lock at the gate. Debris filled the other side from a bygone era. A warehouse loomed from the distance, off on a winding hill downwards.

The location left a bad taste in my mouth, “you and your friends play so closely towards The Iron Graveyard out of all places?” I asked Greg. “Even people like me have to tread carefully before coming here.”

“The Iron Graveyard is still far away,” The child defended himself. “We are on the very edge from danger. Monsters and robots are farther in. We never play near the gates.”

“Be that as it may, what’s with the change of heart?” I looked down at Greg. “You suddenly felt that monster infested territory was too risky? I saw a lack of activity on the playground.”

“Our caretaker hadn’t let us in since we saw the rats near the gates.”

A glimmer appeared on Lyle’s visor, “This should be the entrance,” he held onto the lock. “My crowns is that the rats are inside the huge building down there,” he pointed at the warehouse.

“Yes, I’m aware,” I responded. “I can see with my eyes, and think with my brain.”

“Hmm, the lock is rusted from decades of misuse. There is no guarantee that it will open, even with a key,” Lyle pondered out loud. He reached out inside his sleeve.

“You know that there are other ways to solve problems that don't involve pointing a gun, Lyle? Security is only as good as its foundation. Surely, there is another way to pass through that doesn't involve shooting.”

He gripped his revolver, “Shooting the lock? A ridiculous suggestion, catboy. There is no security response for breaking a lock, not in the edge of Iron Graveyard at least. What I have in mind is much simpler.”

Lyle swung with the butt of his revolver.

*Crack*

He tossed the lock aside. The gate opened.

“Hey, brat,” Lyle said. “You’ve been admiring Imperial for long? I can tell that there’s something with the look in your eye.”

Greg shook his head, “I used to. Everyone else wants to be an Imperial when they grow up. I know the truth. I’m not lucky enough like you guys,” he lowered his head. “Telling others will only ruin their mood.”

“Of course, I never thought that I would be an operative. Not for a person like me,” he cleared his throat. “What are you planning to be, kid?”

“I uh… going to be a mercenary in a few years when they kick me out. There were some dojo classes I have taken, but shillings are hard to come by.”

“Here, take it,” Lyle reached into his coat. two coins clattered in Lyle’s palm.

“Are those crowns?” The concept of a crown was alien to Greg.

“Yes, me compensating you for helping us is only fair.”

“That’s a lot of money, are you sure that I can keep them?”

“I’ll make due,” Lyle waved Greg off. “I suggest that you leave before I change my mind. You’ll only hinder us if you get any closer.”

“Thank you, Mister,” the boy bowed.

“Yeah, yeah, out of my sight; you brat.”

The boy never held a crown in his life. I was loaded with them, however. Third class operatives like me earned about 56 crowns a week, 8 in a day; double a guard’s salary. Lyle obtained about the same.

“Stop gawking, catboy. We have a task that needs to be finished,” Lyle said.

“I got a better idea,” I raised my voice. “How about we stop what we’re doing?”

“What are you saying,” he stared

I spread out my arms to meet his gaze, “I don't know. Birds are flying. The sun is shining. Today is the perfect day. You could enjoy the fruits that nature has to offer.”

“I don’t trust you, that’s why.”

“Same song and dance, Lyle?”

“My dislike goes beyond grievances, catboy. Especially from a beastkin who doesn't know where their loyalties lie.”

“What? Wait — my duty is with Imperial,” I defended myself. No, my responsibility is with IMPERIAL, right?

“I saw how you reacted back there when that witch mentioned your tribe. You thought about betraying us for your own kind, haven’t you?”

“My own kind? Do you think so little of me?” I shouted. “You have no right, Lyle! I am here, aren't I?”

“The seed of doubt is already planted in your mind. Betrayal requires only a little doubt. If not today, then tomorrow. Let’s see who sings the same tune. You were always impulsive, catboy; but I expect less from a beastkin.”

“Watch. Your. Tongue,” I said between hisses. My claws retracted from my hands. I was subtle enough that Lyle hadn’t noticed. Lacerating him was easy, however I knew that was my instincts talking.

I retrated my claws and clicked my tongue, “I tried being nice, really attempted; you know? You forgot who was in charge. And you seem to be fond of beastkins, but who can expect less from an ear-grabbing degenerate? Follow me, stay here, insult me again; I don’t care. Your next move will be on your head. Is that clear, Lyle? Am I getting to your head?”

He nodded and apologized. Those words were hollow. I ignored his empty promises.

My feet picked up the pace towards the abandoned warehouse. Our shoes gathered dust as we made our way downhill. I jogged faster than before. Lyle was slower than what I initially thought.

As long as he is following, I dismissed the man.

All I want is to clear my mind. Light exercise and fresh air, that always makes me feel better.

Betraying IMPERIAL for a tribe that I have no recollection for. I will never throw away my loyalty for the Zaar tribe, right?

Right?

Hypothetically: if I were to make a mistake so bad that it’s irredeemable, running to my tribe wouldn’t be the worst option. They definitely will not treat me like an exotic animal on display.

Speaking with Lyle soured my mood. I once sought validation from him. I realized now how little his opinion mattered. There were always people like him. People that would stomp on my dreams and wishes.

Damn Lyle, damn the monsters. Cleaning out the rats was only for me, nobody else. My mind was a bowl of mashed potatoes. I had to get rid of the lingering thoughts for my tribe. Monsters are close. I had to blow off some steam.