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((The Wednesday Triple: page 2 of 3))
Asad scratched his cheek and gave Hector a stiff look. “...Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” said Hector, feeling more amused pity than disappointment. He looked over the reapers. “But, uh... what now? I mean, uh, I don’t want to be a burden on you guys, so if it’s easier to just go on without me, then we should do that.”

‘Mm, yeah, maybe that’d be best,’ said Garovel. ‘I’ll just revive you from scratch when we’re back at Warrenhold.’

“No, no, no,” said Asad, “that will not be necessary. This is my doing, so I will make it up to you.”

“Uh, how?” said Hector.

“I will simply follow you around, making temperature-controlled armor for you,” said Asad. “Whenever it begins to melt, I’ll remake it.”

Hector bobbed his head. He supposed that would work, but it sounded like a lot of trouble to go through. He didn’t get a chance to voice his concerns, however.

“Allow me to do it,” said Zeff, still carrying the wounded Ramira in one arm.

Asad blinked at him. “Why? It was my mistake.”

“There is a certain technique I am trying to develop,” said Zeff. “I think this might prove a good opportunity to practice it. And besides, I owe the both of you so very much. So, please.”

Asad could only return an admissive nod.

Zeff looked to Hector now. “Remove the suit,” he said. “It will only get in the way.”

A bit hesitant, Hector did as he was asked, but he needed help toward the end. He couldn’t feel any pain from the heat, but he could certainly feel the way it turned his muscles to jelly, even in spite of the regeneration’s best efforts.