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‘That wasn’t so bad,’ said Garovel.

Hector destroyed his helm and rubbed his face.

The repairs to this old antechamber had come along nicely. It was mainly just simple wood and stone, but Hector didn’t think anything fancier would have suited him. He was mildly surprised to find no one immediately around.

‘Hmm,’ said Garovel, his skull twitching to the side. ‘It seems those weren’t our only guests. Prince Meriwether is here.’

‘What? What’s he doing here? And why would he show up unannounced?’

‘And there’s someone else... someone I can’t quite... Oh, wait, no. That’s Lynn.’

Hector froze up.

‘Her weird aura is like a fog. I can’t pinpoint her location. I just know that she’s around here somewhere. She’s probably with the prince, though. I doubt she’d be wandering around on her--’ Garovel stared at him. ‘Hector? You okay there, buddy?’

‘Lynn’s really here? Why would she--? Agh... You’re sure?’

‘Mmhmm.’

He could feel himself already beginning to panic. He started pacing between the room’s pair of wide staircases. ‘What do I do? Oh no, oh fuck...’

‘Alright, Hector, what’s going on? Is this gonna be a constant thing with you and Lynn?’

‘Uh... mgh...’

‘Oh, c’mon. Don’t start this hesitation-business with me again. We’re past that, aren’t we? Just tell me.’

‘Ah... ergh...’

‘Do you want me to guess? We could turn it into a game. Quack if your problem with her involves a duck-billed platypus in some way.’

‘Garovel, what the--?’

‘Ponies! She told you she hates ponies, and now you don’t think you can be friends with her anymore! I’m right, aren’t I?! Man, I’m good at this!’

‘You’re an asshole...’

‘Hector. Obviously, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. And since you’re about to go talk to her, now might be a good time to ask me for advice. Unless you’d rather handle it on your own, that is.’

‘Y-you... I... ugh. Y-you can’t tell anyone. Ever.’

‘Okay.’

‘I mean it, Garovel. You can’t. If you do... I’ll... fucking... I don’t know--just don’t!’

‘Alright, geez. What, do you have a crush on her or something?’

Hector’s brain decided to stop letting him form words. His face flushed red, and he had to avert his eyes.

For a moment, the reaper just stared at him awkwardly. ‘Oh.’ Another beat passed. ‘Seriously?’

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‘Wow, look at ‘em all,’ said Garovel. ‘I guess it was only a matter of time until people found out that Warrenhold has a new owner.’

‘Shit shit shit shit.’

‘Relax, they haven’t spotted you yet. And hey, at least they’re not too scared to ask you for an interview.’

‘Agh...’

‘Y’know, you could just go up and talk to them.’

‘Fuck no!’

‘C’mon, it’s only a few cameras and potentially millions of people watching your every move.’

‘Fuck you!’

‘Alright, alright,’ laughed Garovel. ‘Then just treat the cameras the same way you treat guns.’

‘That... that’s a good idea.’

‘Of course it is. My ideas are always good.’

Hector shifted his grip on the rucksack over his shoulder. He’d brought it with him today in order to hold a change of clothes along with the hat and mustache he’d been wearing earlier. He took a deep breath and started toward the central building’s front entrance.

As soon as they noticed him approaching, the reporters crowded around and stuck microphones up to his helm, asking so many simultaneous questions that he couldn’t hear any single one clearly.

When he clapped iron around their cameras, everyone went abruptly quiet. To their credit, however, that wasn’t enough to deter them for very long.

“Mr. Goffe, why have you come to Gray Rock?”

“He’s a lord now, you idiot. Lord Goffe, what do you have to say to the people who still believe you are a criminal?”

“Can you give us your personal accounting of the events of the Calman High Massacre?”

“Imbecile! Don’t ask him that!”

“Lord Goffe, what is the nature of your relationship with the royal family?”

‘Y’know, you could just tell them to get off your land,’ said Garovel.

Hector considered that, even opened his mouth to do so, but unsurprisingly, he struggled to say anything at all. After a few more moments of listening to their bickering noise, he decided to just push through and go inside. He annihilated the metal around their cameras right before he closed the tall door behind him and barricaded it with a wall of iron. He could still hear their muffled shouts from the other side.

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The second method of transport that Hector tried was a bit more haphazard. It consisted of launching himself into the air with iron platforms and then trying to break his fall instead of his body. He was often unsuccessful. On the plus side, super jumping over buildings was fun as hell, as was improvising ramps and slides and arching platforms to catch himself. It was just that the priorities, of course, were always to avoid endangering bystanders or destroying property, which ended up translating into an abundance of faceplants and pratfalls for Hector.

As he waited for his spine to realign and his arm to start bending the right way again, he let out a heavy groan and annihilated the twisty ramp he’d created for himself on the way down. Perhaps he’d made it a little too twisty. ‘Garovel... I’d really like a new motorcycle now...’

The reaper snorted a laugh.

‘Do I really have to wait until I get a license?’ said Hector.

‘It’s for the best. Just bear with it for now. We’ll find you a new bike soon.’

Hector grumbled and started walking. He’d made the ramp spit him out on the edge of a grassy park, and there were more than a few onlookers for his graceless landing. At least these people didn’t look too scared of him. One kid even gave a big wave and shouted, “Yo, Darksteel!”

Hector smiled inside his helm and returned a more hesitant wave of his own.

Garovel was still up high and didn’t notice, probably looking elsewhere in case of fresh trouble that might have needed their attention. ‘On the bright side, this is really good practice. Maybe you can’t tell, but I’ve seen you improving each day. In fact, I think you should keep traveling like this even after you get a new bike and just have the motorcycle in reserve for long trips.’

‘Ugh...’

‘Trust me. The less reliant you are on technology, the better.’

He knew Garovel had a point. And training wasn’t supposed to be easy, anyway.

Eventually, they made it back home, and Hector was ready to help out the reconstruction crew again, but when he made his way through the dilapidated front gate and up the main path, he spotted a cluster of unfamiliar vehicles.

They were all news vans, he realized. ‘Oh... fuck!’