Before properly entering the building, Mark opted to put on his gas mask. He’d seen a lot of people in the street wear them, including unarmed Servants. He decided that it would both help with anonymity if that became useful, and make him seem like a more integrated member.

He immediately felt very self-conscious when he saw that nobody inside wore any face coverings.

Half a dozen people hung around the makeshift lounge/lobby, mostly listening to one person strumming a ukulele in the corner. A few looked over at Mark when he opened the door, stared at him quizzically, then looked back at the musician.

The player noticed that their gazes had shifted and looked over at Mark. “Hey there, you trying to audition for a job as a Huntsman?”

Mark had no idea what the person had just said, but the laughs of the other people were enough to get him to sheepishly start removing his mask.

Waia, meanwhile, stepped past him. “Yeah, sorry about this guy. Doesn’t really speak like the locals, and I’m not gonna call him the smartest person in the room.”

Mark looked up from his task of pulling off his impressively secure mask. “Hey!”

Waia sat down on one of the ripped-up couches opposite the ukulele player, which creaked with alarming volume under her sudden weight. “The two of us are new ‘round these parts, we figured we could hang around in here. That cool?”

The player shrugged and set his instrument aside. “Not stopping you. Would kinda defeat the purpose of everything in Cuernavaca being communal now if we did. What’s your name?” He looked past Waia at Mark, who was still in the process of taking his mask off, but was doing it in a much more flustered manner. “Or, um, your names?”

Waia remained surprisingly stony-faced. “I’m sure we can get to that later.”

The player squinted at Mark. “Yeah, to be honest, we’re probably just going to give you our own. It’s the way of things.”

Another Servant piped up. “‘Bug-eyes’ is the obvious answer.”

A few others laughed and nodded in assent.

The player smirked. “Yeah, that’s good. You can stay Grumpy de Tattoos for now, but we’re gonna find something for you. I’m Boxer, these are Blaize-With-An-I, Jetstream, Chas-Chas, Manuel, and Funk.” He pointed to the relevant Servants.

Waia immediately forgot all of their names. “Yeah, whatever you say. So do you just hang around and play tiny guitars all day around here?”

The player snorted. “Yeah, I wish. We just get to take breaks every few hours. Nobody actually makes sure we’re working when we’re supposed to, but we’re fine with what we’re given. Less time to bring this world back together, and all.”

Waia hoped the instinctual clenching of her jaw hadn’t been too noticeable. “...Oh yeah? How’s that whole thing going for you Servants?”

One of the others shrugged. Waia believed that one had been introduced as… No, she had no idea. “Well, we all joined something like three weeks ago, right around when the Servants arrived out here. And, uh…” They gestured in the direction of the door. “Things are looking up. They’ve pulled everyone around into one place, they’re giving out jobs to everyone in good enough shape to work and taking care of the rest, the whole package. It’s like the last few years haven’t even happened.”

Waia grunted. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s great.”

“That’s not even the best part,” said another. “Torch, the one in charge? They know how to fix everything for real. Who’d you lose, back when all this started?”

Waia, who had only half been paying attention, perked up just a little. “Huh?”

“C’mon,” groaned the first one, “Everyone knows someone who got taken. It was something like two-thirds of humanity! Who do you know who was lost from all this?”

Waia looked at the floor.

The one who had spoken was punched in the shoulder by the person sitting next to them. “Not cool! You don’t just start with that, man. Let her bring it up when she wants to!”

One of the two to have not yet spoken piped up. “Point is, Torch knows about something that will bring everyone back, all the billions of people that were taken. Doesn’t matter who you lost, they’ll be back once our job is done. You probably heard about Primoi, the weird giant demigods or whatever, from whoever told you to come here. They’re the ones responsible for making our lives hell all this time, and Torch is bringing us all together to make them rue the day they thought we would take all of this lying down.”

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

“You know,” said the player, “that might be why they’re called Torch. I always kinda wondered why they’re using a title like that instead of their real name. Maybe it’s a symbolism thing, like they’re the… light of vengeance? Hence the motto? Along those lines? Maybe?”

“Eh,” mumbled the last one. “That’s kinda dumb, but it’s probably what it’s supposed to mean.”

“They’re probably saving an actual explanation for some big speech once we’ve one.” The player fingered the end of his ukelele. “Well, let’s call that mystery solved for now…”

He sat in silence for a moment. “Why were we talking about this again?” He caught Waia’s gaze. “Oh, right, you’re still here. So, how’s that pitch working for you? We didn’t really have time to plan that out or anything, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of someone turning us down. Not much else to do, and it’s probably a good idea to get insurance against the things that apparently leveled San Francisco.”

Waia shrugged. “Well, like you said, not much reason to leave.”

After waiting for her to say something more, the player decided to just shrug. “Good enough. Welcome to our little army of misfits, Waia. I think you and Bug-eyes back there will fit right in.”

“Whatever you say.” Waia got up from her seat, then paused with one hand still poised on the top of the couch. “...My wife, for one. I lost my wife to all this. Just for future reference, so you don’t need to bring it up again.”

The player nodded solemnly. “Like I thought. As I said, we’ve all lost someone. You’ll get her back soon.”

Waia sighed. “Whatever you say.” She pulled Mark along as she went up the staircase off to the side of the room.

“Back rooms are available,” called out one of the Servants as the two ascended.

Once they were both well out of earshot, Mark sighed with relief as he pulled the gas mask off all the way. “Okay, not as mask-heavy as I was led to believe, that’s on me. I did say it’ll mostly be civilians, I guess. So, what did you talk about? Hard to figure out, considering you just kinda sat there and looked bored.”

Waia leaned against the opposite wall. “Nothing, symbolism stuff. They forgot I was there for part of it.”

Mark stared at her, unimpressed. “I don’t want to make this uncomfortable, I’m the last one who wants that, but I heard the last part that you said to them. What did they say?”

Waia sighed and looked Mark in the eye. “It’s exactly what we expected, okay? If they found out what I am, I’d be burned at the stake or something. They turned an archipelago into a ghost town in a week, they’re targeting all of us for what Deus did. No news to report. What more is there to understand?”

“And how did the conversation shift to Ivy?”

Waia’s stoic expression shifted to a scowl. “If you’re gonna look this far into it, maybe you should be asking them these questions yourself.”

“I don’t speak Spanish, Waia, we’ve covered this.”

“Yeah, okay, I know, I’m just…” Waia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we just do our job here and go back to your place? Looking at the people here makes me want to hit them.”

“I want to do the exact same,” said Mark. “Leave, I mean. So help me help us. Was there any info they gave that we should follow up on? Anything that might be worth investigating further while we’re here?”

“Well… They’re all apparently pretty new around here, but they were talking about the Nabbing as if Torch knows some way to… reverse it, apparently. Take everyone back from Deus, or something.”

Mark nodded gravely. “Okay, from the outset, that sounds insane. You know Deus better than I do, I assume, what are the odds of a human being able to do that being impossible?”

Waia thought for a moment. “Ninety… Eight. And a half. Percent. That’s about right.”

“Okay, not negligible odds…” Mark nodded. “Yeah, more investigation it is. You think you can get some more info out of the Servants here?”

Waia made a poor attempt at holding back a grin. “Oh, that I can do.”

“I’m going to ignore that very questionable phrasing-expression combo for now.” Mark pointed over his shoulder with his thumb at the furthest-back rooms in the corridor they were in, lined with doors that appeared to have apartment numbers on them. “I’ll see if I can establish a base of operations up here, get a private area for us to work.”

“Okay, sure, if that’s how these things are done.”

The two of them parted in opposite directions down the corridor. After a few steps, right before Mark reached the door, Waia turned around and looked back at him. “Hey, one more thing?”

Mark stopped and turned back to face her. “Uh, yeah?”

Waia seemed to force herself to continue. “I actually used to occasionally visit other members of my Domain for the past couple years, mostly on my island, to see how they were doing and check out the towns they were protecting. Whenever we sat down and chatted, most of them always ended up turning the conversation to Ivy, to remind me that settling down with a human was a bad idea, I wasn’t thinking long-term, this was just a phase, typical fare. But pretty much every single time, I had to remind them what her name was, I think they were trying to make a point. Might’ve been a conspiracy against me or something.”

Mark glanced back at the unopened door. “...Alright? Did you just want to tell me this, or..?”

“No, no, it’s…” Waia allowed a smile. “I just wanted to thank you for remembering her name. That’s all.”

Mark shrugged and nodded. “Wasn’t hard. Guess I’m just good with names.”

“Well, um…” Waia turned back to the stairs. “Thanks anyway.”