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'Hey, don't make fun of him,' said Mevox. 'He's not wrong, y'know. All you ever do is waste time.'

'Oh, shut the fuck up!' said Voreese, though she was laughing.

Hector exhaled a tired breath and began slowly dematerializing his armor while the reapers continued bickering. As he'd expected, his clothes were torn in several places and spotted with blood. He'd brought some luggage with him for this very reason, but the last time he saw it was in the cargo hold of Roman's chartered airplane. And the last time he saw that airplane, it was in separate pieces.

Oh well. He doubted the Lorentians would mind lending him some new clothes tomorrow.

"Lord Goffe..."

Hector looked up, unsure who had just spoken to him. Ah.

Fidel Blackburn was looking at him from the corner of the room by the door. And the expression on the man's face was one of mild surprise.

Hector didn't know why that was, though. "What's the matter?"

Garovel answered, instead. 'Ah. You're dead.'

Hector blinked but resisted the urge to say anything else. His normally dark brown skin was looking grayer than usual, and he realized that his chest felt a little odd. His breathing, too, was somehow off.

'That's strange,' said Garovel as his gangly hand found his shoulder. 'Your injuries don't seem that bad.'

The typical vigor didn't surge through him, as his tiredness remained as it was, nor was his strength being enhanced. He could only feel his wounds tightening themselves and closing. There was a stirring in his rib cage as his heart started back up.

How weird. Hector often forgot that the regeneration, the removal of fatigue, and the undead strength were all separate abilities. Garovel usually used them in conjunction with one another, excepting only when the reaper was trying to help him correct his sleep schedule. It was especially rare for the reaper to ever invoke the regeneration without anything else.

And it felt a little strange to realize that he'd been a literal walking corpse this whole time.