The Oversight Committee (minus Chet Priggish, nursing an injured kneecap in the hot silence of his own pain beneath the desk and swearing vengeance upon too-low furniture everywhere) regarded Brock like a trio of boots examining an ant posting placards declaring its hill off-limits.

Brock stared back, determined not to give up an inch.

Eventually, Councilor Stitch stopped her moderately disgusting self-grooming and lowered her feet beneath the stone judge's desk, assuming a barely-interested attitude.

"Okay, well, awkward silence isn't getting us anywhere, which is weird because usually Sekkies can't wait to fill the gaps, and there's still an outside chance I make the end of my nephew's birthday party. Kid," she pointed at Brock, "what did you do to the toaster?"

"...didn't do nothing," Brock muttered, still seething from the earlier casual dismissal of him as a person.

The three visible Councilors stiffened, as if receiving an update from some unseen screen shared by all, then turned towards each other.

"Apart from atrocious grammar, it's telling the truth," High Priest Antioch said slowly. "It didn't deliberately attack."

"Inbuilt countermeasure?" Holly Stitch asked, her voice betraying the first sign of concern she'd shown the entire time. She shifted her full attention to the High Priest. "Some sort of passive ability that bypasses the Limiter?"

"There's a note in the assessment that one of the skills does ignore the Limiter," High Priest Antioch replied thoughtfully. "It's supposed to be purely self-oriented, though."

"Why don't we bring in the original assessor?" Councilor Drast offered from his spot between them. "We can compel her attendance under the rules of the committee. See what she has to say about this, which tells us something regardless of how truthfully she answers."

"Not a bad idea," High Priest Antioch agreed. He pulled out his magiphone.

"...yes... yes, I'll hold... Director Shimada, how are you... yes, I'm doing fine... no, the emergency meeting is proceeding splendidly... yes, well, there's something I wanted to ask you... no, it's not that the Oversight Committee distrusts the data from the Cataclysm Squad... I promise you, Director, we take our duties as seriously as you do yours... no, there is absolutely no issue with the toaster, just covering all bases... yes, if she's available... very good, very good. We'll see her here shortly."

Four seconds later, a coruscating gray portal shimmered into existence next to Brock. When it disappeared, Cap was standing next to him in her office-casual black business suit, bangle-covered wrists tucked into her pant pockets. She looked at the smoking T.O.A.S.T.E.R. in front of the High Priest, then down at Brock and smirked, single eye sparkling.

"Hah. Knew you'd brick it. Fiona owes me five creds."

"What was that, Captain Swift?"

"I said, 'High Priest, it looks like you're in over your heads.' Wait, damn, no, that's not much better."

"We've called you here to Appraise the weapon," High Priest Antioch said icily. "You may proceed immediately."

"Hahaha, yeah, that's not gonna happen."

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A weakly shouted "insolence" rose from beneath the bench, but everyone ignored it. High Priest Antioch narrowed his eyes.

"Captain Swift, refusing to obey an order from the Oversight Committee is-"

"Look," Cap interrupted quickly, "it's not that I don't want to help you... no, you all have truth detection skills, that's a lie, I really don't want to help you because I don't like you, but the reason I'm not going to Appraise him is because it's quite possible it'll explode my brain if I do."

"...explain."

"It's pretty easy. Imagine that," Cap pointed to the smoldering toaster, which was now dripping across the front of the stone bench in sizzling streaks of molten metal and weakly flickering green flames, "was my brain. Two seconds after you made me Appraise him."

The three Councilors stared at the ongoing wreckage for a moment, then Councilor Drast cleared his throat.

"Captain Swift, your hesitation may not be unwarranted, but we need to know what he is capable of."

"Oh, so I'm a 'he' now, am I?" Brock grumbled under his breath, but no one acknowledged him. Cap continued speaking.

"You're not the only ones, Councilor. Look, if this is about his abilities being uncategorized, that's because they are. We're not trying to hide anything from the Oversight Committee. We think we have a good idea what he's capable of, but we simply haven't figured out a way yet to concretely confirm his stats that won't leave me a puddle on the floor."

The toaster chose that moment to let loose a final glorp, one last sad exhalation of smoke rising from the scorched mess on the chamber floor. Everyone pretended nothing had happened.

"Then how can you trust that you have the weapon under control?" High Priest Antioch asked. Surprisingly, his tone wasn't accusatory at all, simply concerned, lack of respect for Brock's humanity notwithstanding. "This seems like even more of a risk than a normal Necessary Needs assignment."

"Pursuant to clause thirty six gamma bagelfruit of the Manford/Hawlings Extra-Dimensional Invader Convention, I cannot comment on an active investigation," Cap stated evenly.

Oh. Right. I was supposed to remember that if I didn't want to answer something.

"I think I speak for everyone when I say, you see our concern, right?" Councilor Drast responded neutrally, Holly Stitch and High Priest Antioch nodding in agreement on either side. A faint "troubling!" echoed from below the desk. "The Director is asking us to sign off on a Sekkie with an unknown set of skills who, if they go rogue, will likely affect all of us. Lethally. And you, Captain Swift, won't tell us why the Director feels like he needs such a tool, nor can we use outside means to verify for ourselves if you're telling the truth."

"Pursuant to clause thirty six-"

"Cut the crap," Holly snapped, fingernails scraping off screeching slivers of stone as she clenched her fists. "You have to give us something to work with, otherwise I'm going to side with Lucio on this one. What did the kid do to the toaster?!"

"Pursuant to-" Cap began stubbornly, and Brock sighed, seeing where this was headed..

"Look," he cut her off wearily, standing and addressing the Councilors. "I wasn't messing around when I said you could just ask me. I'm right here."

High Priest Antioch and Councilor Drast gaped at him, mouths falling open as if they had forgotten he could speak, but Holly Stitch simply poked one index finger an inch deep into solid stone with a tearing grind, the other gleaming nail straight at Brock's face.

"...what did you do to the toaster?"

Hushed air draped a silent mantle across the room, Cap sucking in a soundless breath next to him, High Priest Antioch and Councilor's Drast's faces expectant, Holly Stitch's implacable gaze unwavering. Brock felt his senses slowing, almost as if he was free of the Limiter, and a wild, unfamiliar glee rose in his chest.

I'd never do this. I'm gonna do this. I'm gonna do this!

"...pursuant to clause thirty six of the, uhhh, baglefruit Hawlford thing..."

There was a timeless moment of stunned incredulity as Brock trailed off, forgetting the rest of the words, a savage grin spreading itself across his face.

Totally worth it, he thought dreamily, feeling as if he was floating through clouds made of pure joy. No matter what happens next, those expressions were worth everything. Call me a weapon again, assholes! No regrets!

Then Holly leaped across the desk, perfectly manicured fingernails extending into four-inch-long talons, face elongating into a bestial muzzle dominated by an unwelcoming snarl of curved fangs, long coffee fur the same color as her hair sprouting in waves from every part of her rapidly growing muscular form, and Brock had some regrets.