Howard watched Beast Zeppelin disappear into the shadows. Alone.

There was nothing to tell him. He could've told him to wait, to stay, to cry his forgiveness. Yet the words are as dry as sand in his mouth, sand that buried ruins for millennia, only to be parted by a great storm. Yet that storm doesn't come, the sand remains unshifted, and Shred Zeppelin walks into the night to nurse his wounds.

It's in that moment that Howard realized that Shred Zeppelin would never leave Rocket. Ever.

Choosing between laughing and crying is an impossible task. Therefore, he does neither.

"Do not. He's a man who has been told 'no' too many times that he'll refuse it until the day he dies. Shred is just a man who has been rejected by the world too many times." Howard turned to Grigori, eye dead and emotionless, fully aware of what this promotion will mean. "Just like most of us. Same as me. Same as you. It's just that you found the light at the end of the tunnel."

His stare answered Grigori's questions. Emotionless gave way to fear, apathy, and distrust.

"Yes, which is why I won't say it. I'll keep my mouth shut and do my job." The archaeologist smiled at the eternal grunt. "I know what happens to traitors. You know what happened to Underboss Boris. Locked in a cell and forgotten, even by his old allies. That's our fate."

He checked his watch and sighed. He couldn't lounge around anymore, like he had as a grunt. The Rocket Admin was now expected to be punctual, and that meant getting to sleep early.

"I'm off. I'll see you in Sootopolis." He walked off, waving his hand in the wind as he did so. "Oh, and Grigori?"

He turned. "I'll whitelist June. Nobody will lay a finger on her. If they do, I'll have their head."

He walked off into the night.

---

Shred Grigori Sokolov