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The young man had been given short-sleeved coveralls to wear, which were at least a size too big for him. He’d rolled the legs up around his ankles and tightened the denim around his torso with a strip of metal.

Lynnette had caught him in the midst of restoring the metal of his helm. Just one more thing on her list of questions to ask.

When he looked at her, though, his brown eyes widened, and he averted his gaze.

“I’m Lynn. I didn’t catch your name.”

“I, uh... it’s... I’m... H-Hec...”

Her brow tilted as she waited.

“H-Hector.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Y-yeah, I-I... I’m, ah... I...” He just gave up this time.

She scratched her cheek. “Um. How are you not dead, anyway? And how are you molding metal with your bare hands?”

“Ah--that... ah... I’m not... uh... agh...”

“Are you alright?”

He turned away and donned his helm before looking back at her. “Yeah, I’m--I mean... I... fagh... I still... can’t...”

Lynnette just frowned.

The ensuing silence soon grew uncomfortable, and Lynnette decided that Hector probably wanted her to leave him alone, so she went to check on the others.

“--you should give Vincent and the others a call, just in case,” Roman was saying to Gerald. “If we find somewhere to hole up while they come to Sescoria, then we’ll be able to minimize our risks and overwhelm the enemy easily.”

As Gerald looked over their group another time, his expression hardened. After a moment, he went into the garage, with everyone following uncertainly. “Hey!” he shouted at his mechanics. “You’re all fired!”

They clearly didn’t understand.

“I said you’re fired! Get the fuck out of here right now! I’m not joking, assholes! Get out!”

“What’re you doing?” said Roman. “There’s no need to fire anyone. Just send them home while we take care of things.”