Chapter Text
“You've been wearing your mask.”
I knew how to spot small differences in behavior, it was part of my job. Something like this was hard to miss, though.
The culprit? Seven Sprouts amidst Endless Horizons. My very own idiot brother. He's been stupider than usual, which is already a high bar to cross.
I had nothing to do but sigh. “So, what's the sob story this time?”
Sprouts gave an unamused glance as he began, his voice muffled by the mask. “I slipped. Fell off the edge by our place and took a bit of a rough tumble.” It was bullshit, and I knew it was.
“Uh huh. And is this another one of your ‘You wouldn't believe me if I told the truth' stories? They installed nets over the edges to prevent that exact thing.”
Except… Maybe this time would be believable either way. Sprouts took the mask he had on off, and… well, to say I was caught off guard would be an understatement.
“It's… a long story. I can't say much without it reaching the wrong people.”
“Well, I'm right here. Why don't we start with those scars.” All along the right half of his head, no less. Whatever struck him must have left some bad cuts. “And I won't say a word. Patient-doctor confidentiality, you know.”
Sprouts rolled his eyes at that one. Couldn't blame him. “So… You know that old structure on the mountains? The one people questioned if there was an abandoned Iterator?”
Anyone who's anyone knew about that structure. It was kinda hard to miss. “Is that really your first question”
“Just…
“The rumors were right. There is an Iterator in that structure. And they're alive. Barely, but they're alive.”
Well then. Isn't that something?
“I've been… sneaking off to try and help them. Especially since Thirteen Nests didn't seem to keen on keeping them alive, and-”
“Your teacher. Thirteen Nests Atop Countless Stones.” Believable, sure, but what would that old hoot want with a decaying superstructure?
“...yes. My teacher. He's a prick, but these scars aren't his fault.”
Well, if not him, then… “So you've been face-to-face with the puppet then?” Somehow, someway, this is the most believable thing he's said in the last few Cycles.
“It's… Oh, there you are…” A Slugcat hopped on the table, revealing a notebook in a hidden compartment and shoving it in Sprouts’ face. “Took you long enough…”
“Isn't that..?”
“Yeah, this is the Scug that delivered the pearl. They had it locked in a cage in the admin offices, which was a bit lame. The notebook is mine, though.” He ripped one of the pages out and tossed it to the side. “Got that one…”
“So then, Mister Iterator Repair, what's your next plan?”
“Well, I need to get some new equipment. The school is closed for a few weeks and… well… I've been banned from the hardware store for dumpster diving in the scrap pile. I have a few odd jobs lined up that should get me what I need.”
It was hard to avoid letting a chuckle escape. “You? A job? Today just keeps getting stranger and stranger, huh?”
“Well, it’s that or I ask for money, and I’d rather not do that.” Sprouts checked a calendar of his. “That being said, do you think you could teach me some of your tricks? I tried the one with the five senses, but it’s a bit ineffective with someone who can’t taste. Or smell. Or… you get the idea.”
THAT was a new one. But why the hell not. “Sure, just give me a time. And I’ll get you some of the money you need.”
Sprouts was conflicted, but agreed. He was obviously keen on seeing this through, so I might as well help.
“Thanks, sis.”