You don't want to sound arrogant or anything, but you might just be the smartest man to ever live.

Seriously. What's everyone else doing in the battle? Gathering information, defending positions, and attacking points of information. Meanwhile, you're here in a cave, sitting on a folding chair, drinking Dr Perky and eating Cream Betweens. And at the end of it all? You're going to be filthy stinking rich!

Operation Yoink truly is your magnum opus. All of the pieces are moving just as they should. Should you contact the League now, or hold off until the next round of captives come back?

"Hmmmm."

You make a thinking noise out loud as you lean back in your chair, stroking your chin. On one hand, you're impatient. On the other, you're greedy. But which one is better to be right now?

As you ponder the problem, you idly reach for your phone. Might as well call Howard while you mull it over. Maybe an update from the frontlines will sway you one way or the other? Or maybe hearing about Howard's struggles will just be a fun diversion from what is, frankly, a pretty boring cavern. Either way, it can't hurt.

Ring ring, ring ring…

---

Eris Halla

"...Wha...?"

Okay, so there's a lot going on here. Why is there a girl picking up Howard's phone? And why is she so young? Is she Howard's daughter? Does Howard have kids? No, that wouldn't make sense. Knowing that bitchless bozo, he's probably infertile from huffing primeval fossil fumes from ages past. But then, if that wasn't it, then who was she? And if Howard was on the battlefield, why was a child answering the phone? And SERIOUSLY, who the fuck started a conversation like that?!

You consider hanging up. Clearly, howard slayte is dealing with some silly bullshit that you don't want to get tangled up in. That'll be best for the both of you, because really, you're not good with children. There's something about you that simply upsets them, which causes them to start screaming and crying, and that just pisses you off. Still, your alternative choice is to keep sitting in silence and staring at the ceiling, so you suppose this is a slightly, SLIGHTLY, better option.

"No. No I'm not." You deadpan, as though the mere insinuation that you and Howard could be an item was unworthy of even serious consideration. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, kid, but just put Howard on the phone, alright? I want to talk to him."

---

Eris Halla

"...Huh…"

Well, this conversation is just full of surprises, isn't it? Howard Slayte, a twenty-something year old man, lost a fight to a literal actual child. You take a moment to let that revelation sink in. Wow. That's gotta be a new low for him, and coming from a guy like you, that's a damning indictment. All things considered, it's actually pretty funny.

…And then you actually consider all things, and it becomes a lot less funny. In fact, it isn't funny at all. Howard's been captured by the enemy! And, knowing him, he'll snitch you out at the first opportunity if it means he can get out of trouble!

"I see." You mutter, successfully resisting the urge to swear at this eight year old. It seems you'll have to put Operation Yoink on hold, at least for now. Jumping out of your chair, you begin to hastily don your disguise, fumbling with the buttons of your trench coat as you pry for more information. "And, where are you and Howard right now?"

---

Eris Halla

A beach. A featureless, directionless, and entirely indistinct beach. That really narrowed it down, didn't it? Now instead of searching all of Route 105, you just have to scour the dozen or so beaches. Simple! It's just as easy as finding a needle in a haystack, but the haystack is also an active warzone! It's practically child's play!

"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFfffffffffffffffffffffffffine! It's fine! Everything is just fine. Just stay there, alright? Stay there. STAY THERE. DON'T MOVE FROM THAT BEACH. I WILL FIND YOU. I'LL BE THERE SOON."

As you hang up your phone, you take a moment to think about the nightmarishly complex task you just signed yourself up for, and the regret immediately sets in. Maybe it would have been better to let Howard get taken to a black site by League agents? It certainly would've been less torturous than what you're about to go through. Still, what's done is done. All you can do now is put the mask upon your face, put the hat upon your head, and steel your resolve as you begin your agonisingly long and frustratingly vague hunt.

---

Eris Halla

Forty-seven minutes. That's how long it takes to find the particular beach you're looking for. Forty-seven minutes spent flying around on the back of your Golurk, narrowly avoided enemy combatants and artillery fire, spent flying to every dune and sandbar you can see. Eventually, however, you manage to spot a conveinent S.O.S on one particular beach, like the kind you'd see in a movie about castaways on a deserted island. Heword Slate... Yeah, this is your stop.

"Take us down, bud."

CONFIRMATION: Affirmative.

With that, roaring thrusters begin to quiet, and your altitude begins to lower. It isn't long before a pair of stone-carved feet touch down on the sand. As you climb off the back of your Golurk and down to the beach, you quickly clock the location of Howard's body and the girl. Alright! Time to get this over with.

"You." You point a finger towards the child, wreathed in the questionable personality of this masked, coated figure you've disguised yourself as. "Hand over the body. Now."

---

Eris Halla
Shred's Disguise

"Wha..."

Oh boy. It's going to be one of those interactions, isn't it? You can feel a swear (fuck's sake) rising up your throat, but you manage to bite your tongue. No, no, this is fine. You just need to explain to this child that they're a dumb idiot moron that doesn't understand what they're talking about. How hard can that be?

"How would you even know something that only I could know, idiot?" You snap, crossing your arms to hammer home just how foolish the question was. "Look, I'm far too busy to play children's games, especially with someone as stupid as you. Hurry up and hand him over."

---

Eris Halla

UH OH.

It's a good thing you're wearing a mask, because it helps to hide your devastating facial flinch. This child knows who you are? She was involved in the whole bear-alien-disaster scenario? Shiiiiiiiiiiit. That's not good, for a variety of reasons. If she knows who you are, and knows that you're a Rocket, and knows that Howard is a Rocket...

Wait, hang on, why IS Howard friends with this eight year old? Your eyes narrow a little as you glance over to his body. Is he trying to scam children into helping him with archaeology? Is he so cheap that he's actually relying on unpaid child labour now? He's exploiting children, but he can't even defeat them in a fight?! What a bum. Next, you'll find out that he's been handing out your contact information to every single League member he's come across! He probably doesn't deserve it, but you've still come this far, so you might as well save him anyway.

"No, no, that wasn't me." You furiously shake your head, scrambling to hide your identity. "My name isn't Shred Zeppelin. My name is Dread Threatening. We are two different people."

Hm. Dread Threatening. That really sounded better in your head.

"I'm not that guy. Now, hand over Howard. Please."

---

Eris Halla