Lyle and I loomed over the warehouse, up the nearest mountain. Minutes went by. We waited in silence.

The building erupted into a pit of fire. The windows crackled from the noise as the flames poured across the bricks. Cracks formed, and the warehouse slanted from the cave-in underneath. I stared as the explosion lit up my skies. All that was left was a pile of smoke, and the destroyed remains of a warehouse.

The eyedrone I saw earlier soared from the blast radius. It landed as nothing but a ball of molten metal. The red eyes flickered not far from where we were.

Lyle opened his revolver to replace his spent cartridges.

He didn't even look at the explosion!

“Would this be enough to satisfy the witch?” Lyle asked himself. “One can only hope,” he muttered.

“The powerline got caught in the blast,” I said. “We have to take the long way back,” not like I wanted to take the elevator anyway. Not having to step foot on that death trap was relieving.

I suggested that we jog back, he agreed. I talked about my time with Donovan, all my time training — and Thousand Cuts. Lyle responded with only slight acknowledgement in kind. He wasn't broaching the subject of his past, that was fine. I had no history to speak of either, besides my name. I can't remember who I was, even on earth.

There were other small topics of conversation. Lyle went quiet as we spoke, more sluggish. His feet lagged behind me.

The man stared at me, then dropped to the ground.

I stared at his unmoving body. I silently swore to myself. My hands pulled his collar as I felt his pulse. He’s still breathing. I dragged him to the best my weak body could allow. We went under the nearest pile of rubble, away from the sun.

I took the visor off his face. His face was out for me to see. Cold, wet goose bumps covered his skin.

“Lyle!” I waved my hand. “You’re not fainting on me, not here.”

Lyle opened his eyes and shifted his head, “you are pestering me again, catboy,” a weak chuckle escaped his lips. He smiled, yet his expression languished.

“What the hell was that back there?” I yelled at him. I watched him, he seemed so weak now. “Lord, I am so naive,” I whispered.

Back at Hognose Street he got offended when I said that we were jogging. He picked up the pace, afterwards he was so hesitant to go down the ladder with me. This whole time—

“Lyle, why didn't you say anything?” I shook him. “We could have slowed down, I thought we were going slow.”

“I… don’t need your… pity,” he said.

I gave him my flask from under my coat, “arguing is pointless. Drink some water. Not for me, but for you.”

“I don’t accept handouts,” he drank the liquid anyway, with big gulps.

“Whatever Lyle, do as you like; but I’m the leader. And I say that we are taking the rest of the day easy until we return back to IMPERIAL Headquarters.”

The operative scowled, but nothing he said made me change my mind. Lyle insisted that we can go on. He stood up in order to prove his wellness. I had doubts.

My indirect actions pushed Lyle to exhaustion, like he did to me back at our spar.

Did I feel some schadenfreude? No, I’m not a sadistic beast who seeks pleasure from harm.

I wasn’t speaking from my pride. Lyle was a sick beast that nobody had the will to put down. He put on a brave front, yet snapped and snarled.

I looked back at his red collar.

“Let’s meet back with Carmen,” I told him.

— — —

We returned back through the tight entrance, away from The Iron Graveyard. Neon lights assaulted my eyes. The time was later in the day. I put my sunglasses back on.

“Looks like we’re back,” I said.

“What a shame,” Lyle responded. “I can do without hearing that banshee wail.”

“I can hear what ya sayin’, collar boy!” an old lady wheeled her way up.

The operative bit his lip, “You're here?”

“You left a smoking crater, and all ya spout is dribble. Maybe you should take some notes from the gentleman you follow around, collar boy.”

“I'm not wearing a collar!” He yelled, but lowered his voice. “ What's around my neck is called a choker.”

“Look, we’re getting off topic,” I put myself between them. “You can't be here for just any reason, right?”

The old lady wheeled in my direction, “oh, yes; dear me. I was here to check up on you.”

“I exterminated the monster in the shape of rats, and I did you a little extra. There were cretins, we took care of them.”

“But did ya have to give myself a scare?”

“Well, if I want to get rid of some hornets, I'm not hitting the hive with a stick.”

“Ha!” Carmen exclaimed. “That’s the spirit, boy. Say what do you say in goin’ to the pub with me? I may be short of crowns, but seeing what you pulled off today; I can splurge.”

“Carmen…” I leaned on her wheelchair, “I’m not short on coins. You don’t have to spend a single penny on me.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I insist. If I’m not paying, somebody will. This isn’t a matter of wealth, but a matter of pride. For me and the community. You went above and beyond what a mercenary would do, and for nothin’. A merc would ruin us, giving you some friendly hospitality is nothing in comparison. So, are you accepting a wish from an old lady?”

My head swiveled as I studied Lyle. I figured he would disapprove whenever I agreed with the old lady.

I rubbed my chin, “offering an operative alcohol during prohibition. That’s some huge guts you got there.”

“Are you coming to the pub with me, or not, boy.”

“I’ve decided,” I said. “I will come to the pub with you,” Lyle growed at my words, however Carmen smiled. “Say, what’s the pub?”

“Ouroboros, it’s the place with the snake eating its tail; near the train station. Ya’ can’t miss it.”

“Great!” I clapped. “I’ll go down later. My partner and I have business that we need to attend to first.

Carmen and I said our goodbyes.

“Are we going to talk about what you just accepted?” Lyle finally said.

“No, I thought that we were going to talk about the weather,” I crossed my arms, yet leaned in closer.

“That hag has something—”

“Lyle,” I interrupted, “if you're so against coming, you can go. Nobody's stopping you.”

“I can just leave?” Lyle asked.

“I’m tired of hearing your lame excuses for being a terrible human. I even go as far to tell Lorry and Donovan that you leaving was my idea.”

He left in the end. My eyes stared into the sky while I habitually sighed.

Today is a beautiful day.

I haven’t forgotten my directive, the reason I was here. The pub had Carmen congratulating me with some other patrons. I was here to make IMPERIAL’s presence known. I was going in with an ulterior motive, Carmen as well.

Perhaps if things were different, if I transmigrated before the anima treatment. I could have been with my tribe. I watched the clouds as I pondered. There was plenty of time before I went to the pub. My back rested on a patch of grass, away from the orphanage. A thought crept up in my mind.

I never choose to be Imperial. I was aware. The personalities of me back on earth, and the catboy from his tribe merged into one. I was aware that I ultimately committed myself to becoming an operative. The documents were in my signature. I made the decision before—

But, don’t I have a say?

Tears flowed down my face.

I felt the water on my fingers.

Looks like I made myself sad again.

I wasn’t wallowing in my own pity. My arms supported myself from the grass. Today was a pretty day. The flowers spread their scent. The orphanage was nearby. I decided on checking with Greg and the other children. I had to tell them that their hideout was safe.

— — —

There Oroboros was beside the train station, like the old lady said. There was no wording, but I saw the sign. A neon snake eating its tail.

I pulled out the Morse code transceiver. I transmitted my report. Seconds passed, I received confirmation.

I exhaled when I went close to the pub. The door refused to open. A familiar face showed up while I was shaking the knob.

“Lyle, is that you?” My ears twitched from seeing him, “I thought you left.”

“I never did,” Lyle replied.

“Why?” I tilted my head.

“There doesn’t have to be a good reason for anything,” he shook his head.

“Lyle, you had every reason to leave, and you decided to come back despite those reasons!”

“Catboy, please be quiet,” he said. “I don't need to tell you what I think about the pub. Actions mean more than words anyway.”

I let go of the door handle, “sure, make demands, that'll win my favor.”

“I said please, didn't I? Look — if you were in my position, wouldn't you do the same?”

“That's a trick question,” I raised my voice. “I would never be in your position.”

“...I messed up, okay,” he lowered his head. “We were not doing the job because we're offered, but as an obligation to ourselves. I'm not abandoning you, not over some ideological difference. Does that matter for something?”

I looked at his visor. Was he trying to be nice? I sighed, “fine, you can follow, but please stop talking.”

“You want me to be quiet?”

“I said please, didn't I,” my mouth widened.

“Hmm,” was all he could say.

*Bang* *Bang* *Bang*

I banged on the door. The latch from the peephole opened up. A pair of eyes shifted in all directions before looking down. A gruff voice asked me who I was. The voice referred to my operative uniform.

“I’m not with the guards, if that's what you’re asking,” I responded.

“Uh, huh, so; what’s the password?” the voice asked.

“The password?” My ears twitched. “We’re in the middle of Snakewater, who cares about a password?”

“No password, no pass.”

“Fine, the password is: open up, you spiffy-eyed degenerate before I tell Old Lady Carmen why I couldn’t show up.”

“Sorry, wrong password,” he shrugged.

Wait, did I just hear a person shrug? “Yeah, because I got nothing better to do than to run around all of Snakewater, taking alcohol from every dive pub around,” My tail swayed. I considered bursting down the door.

“Rules are rules, pal,” the man said. “Can’t survive without ‘em, and you don’t scream ‘casual drinker’ to me.”

“Oh, I wouldn't wish to put a blemish on your fine establishment, good sir.”

The latch was half-open before he slammed the peephole open, “I ought to tie a cretin on a stick for conversation. For even they make more pleasant company!”

I stomped my feet as my tail fluttered, “I’m sorry!” I yelled. “I would come over to apologize, but there looks to be a door in my way!”

“Tough talk coming from you. How do you come over here and say that to my face?” he said.

“Say that to your face? You're the one who is locking himself behind a door. I’m out here in the open!”

The door slammed so hard that it almost went off its hinges. My tail and ears shot up. The man stood above me. His muscles were massive.

He’s like the 3rd bodybuilder I’ve seen. Is it me, but why do they seem related? Is there a society of strongmen out to get me?

My tail singeled for Lyle’s help. He stared at me with a straight face. I felt my face burning up.

“You… you… Nya!~” I screamed.

The buff man recoiled back. The bar was rundown on the inside, “no I didn't mean to offend you.”

He made me meow, “you made me meow!” I accused him in indignation.

“I — I thought you were female!”

My ears flickered, “you thought I was female? What made you think such inflammatory remarks?”

“It’s not like that,” he waved his hands. “We just don’t see male nyancan, and—”

“Oh, I understand all right!” I pointed at him, “you thought that I looked too butch, so you’d assumed that I was into women.”

“What! You're more angry about my biases than me mistaking your gender?”

“What seems to be the commission around here,” Carmen rolled up from inside the pub. “Not one minute passes by, and you’re tussling harder than my husband on our honeymoon. Lord, rest his soul.” She hit the giant man with her cane while speaking, “Now get back behind the bar, and hassle people who actually deserve it!”

“Were you trying to intimidate him? Because what you were doing didn't work,” he said behind him.

“I didn't ask for your input, Lyle!” I yelled.