"I am so, so sorry," I said, propping up the tiny man. I grimaced as blood dripped down from his snout and stained his matted fur. "I was just trying to-"

He stopped me with a bored, uncaring look. Shaking his head, he croaked, "I...have been...through worse..."

"Um...okay."

I watched him slowly waddle back over to his desk and reach up with his long arms to grip his padded chair. Sharp claws sunk into the padding, tearing it further as he pulled himself up with a groan. He saw me staring and his indifferent expression soured. "Are you...going to...stand...there all...day?"

Shaking my head, I crossed the room with one stride and sat opposite of him. I set my spear against his desk but he gave the weapon a nasty look, so I dropped it at my feet.

He sat back with a sigh, shuffling the papers on his desk. "My name...is...Nigel...Legin. And...you're here...for...debrie...fing...is...that right?"

Did he always talk like that? Weird. I brushed it off as a character quirk and said, "Yeah."

"Won...derful. Your name...is?"

"Flake." Double weird. I'm sensing a pattern here...

He arched one eyebrow, slowly. "No...last name?"

Maybe if I talk faster he'll go faster? Reading the mood? I shook my head. "Nope."

It took him five seconds to bob his head up and down once and then another two to open his mouth to speak again. "I see. Inter...est...ing. I have...noticed...that...most {Guards}...do not...have last...names. Why is...that so?"

Oh, dear. I fidgeted in my seat, squeezing the sides of the chair. "I, uh, I don't know? But what does that have to do with the debriefing?"

He shrugged, shoulders rising a centimeter a second."Oh...nothing...I sup...pose. I was...just...curious. I can...count on...two...hands the...number of...{Guards} with...last names. Don't you...think that's...funny?"

I ran my hand over my head, finding comfort in the familiar smoothness. "Not really? Can we move on?"

He frowned harder, picking up his quill and dipping it into the ink. Dabbing it on a blank piece of paper, he began writing, muttering, "You are...an impa...tient...one...I see."

"I'm just tryin' to get this done, mate."

"Sure. Date of...birth?"

I opened my mouth to answer but choked. I didn't know the date I was born...I didn't know today's date.

The {Debriefer} noticed my hesitation and scribbled that down, too. His hand movements were surprisingly fast when it came to writing. Of course, his progress would stall every time he looked up to frown at me. It didn't seem like this debriefing was going very well, and I'd hardly answered any of his questions. Had I messed up when I brained him?

I tried to see what was on the paper but the upside-down squiggles made no sense to me. Squinting and tilting my head to both sides did nothing either.

"You...cannot...read?" he asked me, mouth agape.

"Er, well, kinda? I mean, I can read what's on my status screen but-"

"Of...course you...can read...your...status! It auto...matic...ly tran...slates to...whatev...er you...can un...derstand. But how...did you...even be...come...a {Guard}...if you...cannot...even...read ba...sic Co...mmon?"

Rude. I tried my best, okay? What a stuck up arsehole who probably doesn't even leave this rathole of an office. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but if he reported me directly to my superiors, whoever they may be, I'd be in hot water. So I held my tongue and shrugged. "Luck, I guess."

"That is...the stu...pidest...thing...I have...ever...heard! Ugh. At this...point I...do not...even...want...to speak...to you...any...longer. But a...job...must be...done. Explain...what ha...ppened...on your....shift."

I obliged, ignoring his condescending attitude in favor of detailing the events of my past lives as quickly and precisely as he could. He sneered when I told him how many times I died and looked personally offended when I explained Crystal.

"You let...that...traitor...escape? That is...prac...tica...ly...commit...ing...the crime...yourself!"

"You wouldn't understand!" I shot back, finally snapping. "It's not as if you spent every hour of every day with somebody, defending each other, fighting together."

"If any...thing," he snarled, "that should...have made...you kill...her fast...er."

I rose, kicking up my spear and catching it with is. Flipping it around so the point was facing him, I poked him roughly in his vest chest. The edge tore a little hole in the fancy fabric. "You know what, mate? I'm close as can be to shoving my other knee into that furry little face of yours, you little-"

"Are you...threaten...ing me...{Guard}?" he asked, looking entirely unconcerned as he stared me dead in the eye. "I would...not be...so quick...to pull...your...weapon...in this...room."

I smirked, deftly stabbing through his vest collar and yanking him towards me over the desk. Getting his face, I sneered. "What are you gonna do about it?"

He slowly opened his mouth, forming a wide o before screaming at the top of his lungs, "{GUARDS}! HELP!"

I shoved him off of my spear but it was too late. The door burst open and in came three {Guards}, all equipped in hardened leather armor. The lead one unclipped a black metal stick from the holster at his belt and stormed toward me. I dropped my spear, raising my hands up in surrender. "Wait, I can expla-"

He lunged forward faster than I could blink, clocking me in the head. It jarred my brain but that alone wouldn't have been enough to knock me out. I stumbled back, tripping over my spear, and falling to the ground.

"Wait," I protested weakly, raising one arm to protect myself. He swung without remorse and the stick discharged an electric shock against my metal helmet.

Zapped and fried, I succumbed to unconsciousness.