Chapter Text
It’s midday over the desolate terrain that existed outside the town’s walls.
The sun is burning bright in the sky, the rays scorching what little grass that there was sprouting up between the dry dirt and cracked stone. The heat is almost a living thing pressing in across the earth, bugs scurrying from crevice to shade, and all other living creatures besides the few hungry birds took their hunt elsewhere.
Kyle sighs from where he’s perched on a large boulder. Kicking lightly at a stone, he watches as it falls about a hundred feet to the ground below. It lands with a puff of soot, also known as the stupid particles that covered everything around here due to the damn volcano that towered overhead.
Still, despite the shitty atmosphere, sometimes he was a bit envious of the robotic creatures that got to live out here. Got to live their days just walking along the cracked ground that seemed to go on forever, never having to worry about their future or people’s expectations. Sure, maybe they were inhuman-mindless killing machines who were being endlessly hunted down in an attempt to try to make things safe for humanity again-
...but at least they were free.
His sensor beeps, alerting him that the signal he’d been tracking was rapidly approaching his location. And sure enough, looking up, he sees a humanoid form moving towards him on the horizon, and with a half relieved and a half tired sigh he stands and pockets his phone.
It was about fucking time.
He jumps from the bounder, turning on his jetpack just before he hits the ground to lighten his fall.
Just as he’d planned, his target stops in its tracks as it regards him with a dead expression.
This time the creature is distinctly feminine. Small, with short black hair and a bright yellow shirt. Innocent looking enough by any standard, which was exactly what they wanted you to think moments before they would reach into your chest and pull out your heart with a blank expression. He might have even confused it as being a normal human girl if it wasn’t for the soulless black eyes and the distinctive beeping of his tracker which served as a constant reminder.
His hand drops to his gun resting at his side.
Fucking robots.
“And just who do you think-”
“Kyle Broflovski. Bounty hunter,” he says a moment before he pulls his gun from its holster and shoots.
Her shoulder instantly erupts in a series of sparks as smoke pours out from the prominent hole. She looks at it in surprise. Then she turns her narrowed eyes back on him.
“Oh, you’re going to regret that.”
Kyle smirks.
This was where things got interesting. The spike of adrenaline. The tactical calculations. Like a game of chess. Of course, chess had always erred on the side of boring. Inconsequential. This, on the other hand, was much more fun.
She lunges.
He instantly puts his jetpack to use, planning to take to the sky and fight as he usually did. A cowardly course of action to some of the more brutish and dumb people he knew, mostly his father friends. But Kyle had always preferred brains over brawn and ranged combat had always been more his style.
However, on this day he underestimates this particular robot.
She was fast. One of the fastest he’d ever seen, and he’d seen a hell of a lot of robots. Grabbing his leg before he can get away, she slams him back down to the ground. He curses, the wind successfully knocked out of him and rendering him immobile as he attempts to get his bearings back.
She grins down at him. Maniacal and horrific. The wires poke out of her wounded shoulder. Her soulless eyes glow red. The glint of the knife in her raised hand reflects the harsh sunlight.
Shit.
Moving on instinct, he contorts his body to protect his heart and is rewarded by the agonizing pain of a knife being jammed into his upper arm. With a startled gasp at the sudden influx of pain, he falls back to the ground with the force of it.
Above him the robot laughs, a harsh and mocking sound that fuels something deep within him,
“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, throwing the robot off of him and rolling to his feet. He tears the knife from his arm, gritting his teeth at the crippling pain that seems to travel throughout his entire body at the action, and throws it as far as he can. As the robot gets to her feet, she watches her weapon fly off with a blank expression before turning her dead eyes back to the gun suddenly pointed at her face.
“Not so funny now, is it?”
“Fuck y-”
The bullet going through her neck at close range cuts off anything she was about to say.
Curling his nose up at the now motionless robot on the ground, Kyle takes out his own knife and kneels down next to it. Placing the blade at the edge of her skull, he grimaces as he presses down and begins to reveal the mess of liquid covered wires layered beneath.
Time to get to work.
***
“Well if it ain’t Gerald’s boy!”
Kyle’s welcomed back to the tavern in the normal way he’s gotten used to over the years and he rolls his eyes and tries his best to ignore the familiar spark of anger that hits him. It’d be nice to be called by his damn name every once in a while. You know, like he was a fucking person.
“Back so soon?” Skeeter the tavernkeep says as he approaches the counter.
Before Kyle can even respond, the voice of the guy sitting at the bar beside him speaks up. “Yeah, must be nice having a jetpack that your daddy bought ya.”
The two men snicker and Kyle ignores them, throwing his latest target’s programming chip on the bar. Skeeter gives it a look, picking it up and wiping some of the blood still covering it off with a rag, before placing it under the scanner.
On the screen behind them, a name pops up as well as a ranking and the reward amount.
“Leslie-2341,” the tavernkeep reads, nodding and inserting a checkmark into the system to mark it as completed. He reaches under the counter and pulls out a small bag of coins. “Nice work kid, here ya are.”
Kyle nods, reaching for the money with his good arm and pocketing it. “Thanks,” he says as he goes to leave, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Unfortunately, the guy sitting at the bar wasn’t done with him yet.
“What’s that on your arm?” He asks, shoving a fat finger in Kyle’s direction.
Kyle glances down and with mute horror he realizes that the blood has seeped through his heavy coat. He probably should have stopped home first. Dammit.
The man gives a hearty laugh that makes Kyle really want to punch him. “Oh, did the little robot girl cause a problem for you?”
Kyle bristles, directing his glare at the smug looking bounty hunter before him.
“No, she didn’t,” he bites out slowly. “It was a lucky hit.”
“I’m sure it was,” the amused man says with a mocking little grin before nudging the guy next to him with his elbow. “Those C level bounties sure can be a handful, can’t they?”
His friend snickers.
Nails carving sharp little lines into his palms Kyle lowers his tone in the most threatening way he can manage. “You implying something?”
“Nothing at all.” The man says, looking at Kyle as if he was a small puppy growling around his feet. The bastard. “Hey kid, tell your old man I was lookin’ for im’.”
And with that, he turns away.
“Yeah, whatever,” Kyle mutters, before resuming his way out of the stupid tavern.
Although he doesn’t make it more than a few steps before he’s stopped by a gentle hand on his arm. Looking at the young serving girl in front of him his anger instantly vanishes and he offers her a smile.
“Hey, Karen.”
“Hey Kyle,” she says with a small little smile of her own. “Just ignore them, okay?”
With a sharp exhale and a shake of his head, Kyle shrugs. “Thanks but I’m kind of used to it by now.” He pauses, remembering something. “Oh, but here.”
Reaching into his pocket he hands her the bag of coins he’d gotten from the bounty. He didn’t really need it anyway, living at home as he was. Besides, he knew most of the assholes in this place didn’t tip and Karen had confessed to him before that she and her brother were barely scraping by.
She looks at the bag of coins in surprise before she tries to hand it back to him. “But I didn’t wait on you today-”
Kyle gently pushes it back to her.
“Well consider this payment for a day I forget to tip you.”
“You never forget to tip,” she says with knowing yet grateful smile, as she finally puts the bag into the pocket of her uniform.
“Yeah, well it’s always good to plan ahead.” He winks, knowing he’s terrible at it and probably looks ridiculous; yet, does it anyway because he knew it always amused her. “Just in case.”’
As he’d expected, she giggles.
“Thanks, Kyle,” she tells him.
***
“I’m just so tired of it, you know?” Kyle bemoans to his friend, throwing yet another pebble over the top of the wall. “No matter what I do they just act like I’m some stupid kid.”
Stan pushes some of his pile of stones over to him, like the best friend he was, and slowly shakes his head.
“Dude, you’re the youngest bounty hunter this town has. No one else could have gotten their license as young as you did. You worked hard as hell for it and it paid off. Just ignore the assholes, they’re probably just jealous.”
“No, they’re not,” he grumbles, throwing a stone as far as it would go. “They just think my dad helped me get through training, but he fucking didn’t. Every time I passed a test or did something I was proud of he just sat there and said it was because I was his son, and not because I had actually worked my fucking ass off.”
“Seriously?”
“That’s all anyone ever says,” Kyle mutters, voice several degrees of bitter.
“That’s fucked up, dude,” Stan says looking at him with sympathy. “But I’m sure things will work out, you’re only twenty, you’ve got years to prove them all wrong.”
Kyle knew he was right, it’s what he kept telling himself after all. Still, it didn’t make dealing with it any easier.
“I’d just rather do it sooner rather than later, you know?”
“Yeah, but you’re just going to have to give it time.”
Kyle nods, but doesn’t say anything. Just turns his gaze back to setting sun on the horizon.
One of the best things about being best friends with one of the town guards was the chance to sit up on the wall of the town. It wasn’t exactly permitted, but Kyle was known enough around town from his father to be trusted, and all the other guards liked him well enough not to go and complain.
Which thereby gave Kyle access to the wall, or as he liked to call it, the best viewpoint in town. A chance to look outside the damn cliff overhang that their town was nestled under, and out at the expanse of outside world. The volcano raining down soot and ash a little ways away. The overgrown grass that was colored a dark brown and heavy with soot, yet still blew slightly in the breeze. A horizon that went on forever. Infinite possibilities. Every path leading farther away from this shit town.
If he was being honest, Kyle used to want to be a guard. The freezing technology they used was powerful beyond belief, yet the rest of the citizens weren’t allowed to so much as touch the stuff. And that included bounty hunters. It was tragic, really.
That being said, the guards couldn’t leave the town’s walls. That was a right reserved almost exclusively to bounty hunters. He probably should count himself lucky, he sometimes wondered how people like Stan lived like that.
He’s about to ask Stan if he’d ever wanted to leave the town when, without warning, a sharp pain shoots up his arm from where he’d been stabbed earlier. Curling into himself, he sharply inhales, gritting his teeth as he waits for it to pass.
Once it finally does, he notices Stan looking at him in concern.
“Dude, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Kyle breathes, voice still a bit unsteady, “it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
He reaches under his coat sleeve to adjust the makeshift bandage he’d fashioned out of an old t-shirt and to his annoyance the shirt is distinctively wet. Well, shit. He’d have to rebandage it when he got home. Withdrawing his hand from his jacket, he looks at his fingers shiny with blood and curls up his nose at the sight before wiping it off on his pants.
When he glances back at his friend, he notices his eyes have gone wide and his face has paled. Kyle gives him a look, daring him to say something.
“Dude, your arm. Maybe we should get Butters-”
“It’s fine.”
“Kyle-”
“I said it’s fine!” He snaps, crossing his arms while making sure to be careful with the injured one. “I can deal with it.”
Stan just sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.
***
The next morning, Kyle walks into the tavern to pick up his next assignment, only to be greeted by the sight of a large group gathered around a table and the sound of hearty laughter.
He scrunches his nose up distaste, he always hated when his father was here.
Trying his best to make it over to the counter unnoticed, he hears the telltale signs of his dad bragging. Telling embellished stories of his fights and kills that Kyle has heard said over the dinner table far too many times. His mother nodding along and Ike ignoring them all in favor of having his head down in his notes as he scribbled down equations while he ate. Last Kyle asked he was trying to figure out a way to clone himself. Weird kid.
Lost in thought, Kyle doesn’t realize he’s been spotted until there’s a large man looming over him with a distinct sneer slapped on his face.
Kyle scowls, looking past him at the counter that was now only a few steps away, So close, yet so far.
“Hey kid, you ever think you’ll be as good as your father?”
Before Kyle can even open his mouth to answer, there’s another voice speaking up from somewhere in the room.
“I think he could,” the voice calls, “long as his dad here keeps giving him those trade secrets.”
“What can I say,” his father says with a feigned sigh and distinct haughty tone. “I have to make sure the fame stays in the family.”
Kyle shoots an incredulous look at his father.
He had never once done anything to help him. Not once.
Every-fucking-thing he did, he’d done by his own sweat and tears.
“You’re agreeing with them?” The hurt in his voice must show because his father looks away from his friends and seems to regard him somewhat seriously.
“You’re a big boy, Kyle.” He says after a moment, “If you want to prove otherwise, go ahead. The floor’s open.”
Kyle hears the words but he can’t believe them. All eyes are suddenly on him, watching, waiting.
He feels a whole lot like screaming.
In a split decision, he shoves past the man in front of him and stomps over to the tavernkeep with a snarl. “K3NN-14,” he states loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. An S level bounty. More than that, the S level bounty. The infamous cyborg that not even his father had been able to bring in.
The tavernkeep’s eyes grow wide and he shakes his head, “You know I can’t give that one to you yet.”
Kyle stands firm. “Just give me the fucking coordinates, Skeeter.”
Skeeter’s eyes suddenly drift over his shoulder, and he knows just who has stood up without turning to look.
“Don’t be an idiot, Kyle,” his father says.
“I can do it.” He makes sure to keep his tone hard and emotionless, even as his nails dig into the wood from where he’s gripping onto the counter. “Let me prove it.”
“Aww, let him have his fun, Gerald.” Kyle doesn’t know who says it, but it doesn’t matter. “Kids gotta learn his lesson somehow.”
Kyle doesn't move, but he watches for Skeeter’s reaction, and he knows by the tavernkeep’s sharp inhale and sudden hurried typing at the keyboard that his father has given his consent. He takes a deep breath. It’s what he wanted and yet his throat is tight as if his anger is the only thing keeping him from crying. Yeah, fucking cry. That’d get people to take him seriously alright.
“Alright,” Skeeter says after another moment. “Your tracker is now tracking its programming chip.” He looks up, gaze the most serious Kyle had ever seen him, which is saying something. “But this isn’t your normal brainless robot, kid. You probably know this from your dad, but we ask that you bring cyborgs in alive. We need them for questioning since who knows what the hell they’re getting up to out there.”
Kyle nods in answer, and finally turns to face his father and the amused faces of the rest of the bounty hunters who have nothing better to do than watch the fucking show. Well, good, let them watch.
“Cyborgs aren’t like robots, Kyle,” his father says to him, in what Kyle supposes is an attempt at some last fatherly advice. “They look and act human, so they’re smart, but you can’t let them fool you. Underneath they’re just like all the rest. Monsters.”
Kyle’s nails dig into his palms. He took the damn tests and aced them all, he was damn tired of everyone acting like he knew nothing.
“Yeah, I know.”
His father gives him a stiff nod before sitting back down at the table with his friends, not sparing another glance at his son.
“Your boy’s got spirit, Gerald.” One of them says with a hearty laugh, “Gotta give him that.”
“Yeah,” Gerald responds casually, “takes after his dad. Hell, with my blood he might even be able to find him.”
And when Kyle stomps out of the tavern, thoroughly unnoticed, they’re still fucking laughing.
***
Kyle is still seething by the time that his tracker indicates he’s almost on top of his target.
Normally flying was somewhat relaxing to him, and he always usually prided himself in his ability to herd and trap his targets so that they were unable to run.
But not this time.
As he flies, ash continuously falls from the sky like snow, causing a gritty film to cover the glass of Kyle’s mask that only smears particles across it every time he goes to wipe it off. It was really pissing him off. Fucking volcano. This place was such a shithole. He just wanted to get this done as quickly as possible. The faster the better.
His sensor releases a loud beep, and he looks down to see what appears to be a boy about his age with metal lining his shoulders, an orange jacket tied around his waist, and complete obliviousness as he walked along the ground below.
Apparently, this was his target.
Showtime.
Turning off his tracker, Kyle pockets it and takes out his gun, more for a threat he supposed then anything since he couldn’t actually shoot it this time. Not that his target knew that. Working the controls on his jetpack, Kyle quickly dives down and lands directly in front of him.
His target curses and almost falls backwards, as if startled by his sudden appearance. On closer inspection, he doesn’t really look like most robots Kyle has come across; although, he never before met a cyborg. His eyes are bright and full of emotion, so unlike the lifeless and dull eyes he was used to. Yet unlike robots that liked to hide their wires under the skin, he wore what looked like a half suit of mechanical armor across his shoulders, linking wires across the upper half of his body that connected to things that were either ports in his armor or his actual body. Kyle honestly couldn’t tell.
“Shit, dude,” the cyborg interrupts Kyle’s thoughts with a slightly nervous little laugh as he finally seems to shake off his initial surprise and straightens. “A little warning next time before you decide to drop from the sky?” He pauses before his eyes flash with something distinctly mischievous. “Oh! Or is this maybe part of your pickup line?”
Kyle blinks, lips parted in preparation for his normal introduction now halted in his utter bafflement, routine completely thrown off.
“...What?”
“You know, like, hey babe,” he offers a smarmy little smile, “I hope you like angels because I dropped from heaven just to find you.”
For a moment Kyle can do nothing except stare at him. He really wasn’t sure what was more startling, the cyborg’s sudden giggle fit or the fact that he was making jokes. Referencing religion no less. This...didn’t usually happen.
“I’m uh, Kyle Broflovski,” he says awkwardly, attempting to get this thing back on track. “Bounty hunter.” He almost forgets to lift his gun, and ends up bringing his arm up so quickly to fix his mistake that it ends up not even remotely pointing at his target and he has to take a moment to adjust it. Dammit.
Meanwhile, the cyborg wore an expression that almost seems disappointed at his words.
“Look,” he sighs. “Just go home. Fighting me never ends up well for anyone.”
Kyle’s pride takes a hit and his eyes narrow.
“I’m not weak.”
“What? I never said you were-”
“You don’t think I could beat you in a fight.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. You look very capable, but-”
“Then why won’t you fight me?”
“That’s what I’m trying to explain!”
Rather unfortunately for the poor cyborg, he’s been fighting the urge to punch someone the entire day and he needs a damn outlet. This will just have to do. With a slight growl, Kyle steps up to the small blond and tries to punch him, the cyborg gracefully sliding out of the way before it can land.
“Dude, what the hell?!"
In answer, Kyle just mutters a curse under his breath and attempts punching him again.
The cyborg ducks underneath his arm.
He attempts again.
The blond winks before literally spinning out of the way.
What the hell? Kyle’s chest is heaving with exertion and the cyborg doesn’t even seem winded, if anything he’s only growing more amused as their little dance went on. The ash keeps landing over Kyle’s mask and it’s really starting to piss him off. With a growl Kyle grabs the edge of the damned thing and tears it off, tossing it to the ground. If he got ash in his eyes, whatever. He’d deal with it later.
Stepping out of the way of another punch, the cyborg looks at his revealed face with surprise.
“Huh, you’re a little young to be a bounty hunter, aren’t you?”
“Shut up, cyborg.” Kyle growls, still trying to land a single damn hit. “What the hell would you know?”
“Oh nothing.” Another graceful dodge. “Just I’m used to being attacked by older men.” A sidestep and a wink. “This is a much more pleasant experience, just saying.”
“Oh my god! Would you stop with the fucking witty-ass banter and just fight me!”
Kyle realizes too late that it was the wrong thing to say.
The blond gives him a shit-eating grin. “So, you admit I’m witty.”
“Just fucking die!” He snarls, movements getting less precise as his agitation boiled to an all-time high and exhaustion began to set in. It didn’t help that his dominant hand was all but useless thanks to his injury and was essentially being used as a buffer.
“No can do, sorry.” The blond shrugs, looking not at all sorry. “Even if you were trying to actually kill me, which you’re not.”
“I’m getting more and more tempted to!”
The cyborg giggles. “You’re cute.”
Kyle fumbles. “I am not cute!” He retorts and instantly hates how high pitched his voice comes out. He coughs. “I am a deadly and respected bounty hunter!”
The cyborg’s eyes sparkle. “Oh, I’m sure you are, darlin’.”
Caught off guard by the use of the pet name and the cyborg’s surprisingly pretty eyes, Kyle pauses his assault just long enough to give the cyborg an opening.
The blond sweeps in close. Bright blue eyes behind blond lashes. The hint of a smirk on full pink lips. Soft looking skin, and a vibrancy unmatched by any human he had ever met.
Ethereal.
His smirk widens a moment before Kyle is suddenly on the ground. Eyes wide and chest heaving, heart pounding an unmatched tempo. The blond puts his hands over his mouth and giggles from where he stands, looking down at him. But it’s not a mocking sound, instead, the sound is as real and true as Kyle has ever heard.
“It’s Kyle, right?” The cyborg says almost gently as his giggle fit comes to a slow. Thoroughly unhinged, Kyle can do nothing but nod. “Well Kyle, I’d suggest just going home. You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
That strikes something in him, and Kyle instantly sits up. “You don’t understand,” his voice cracks as he says it, and he hates how desperate he sounds. How much he sounds like a fucking whiny kid. “I need to bring you in.”
However, instead of laughing, the cyborg stops his retreat and regards him thoughtfully for a moment.
“Why?”
It’s a simple enough question, but Kyle has no intentions of pouring his heart out to a half-mechanical being who he’s supposed to be hunting. So, he can’t tell him how he can’t imagine walking back into that tavern empty handed. Looking at his smirking father and listening to the mocking laughter of every damned person in the place.
Not that he’d even understand it if he did.
So, Kyle just slightly bows his head and answers, “I just need to.”
It’s not actually an answer, Kyle is well aware of that, yet the cyborg seems to think on his words as if it was. Arm throbbing in pain and tired of fighting, Kyle just stares up at the blond as he stares back at him as if searching for something. Somehow, he must find whatever he was looking for, because the cyborg smiles and slowly takes a step towards him. Reflexively, Kyle's hand drifts towards where his gun sits at his side, but the cyborg only drops down to kneel in front of him.
“Alright, well if it’s that important to you,” he says easily, tone light and casual. “Here.” The cyborg holds out his hands, metal gloved palms facing up.
Kyle trains his gaze slowly from his offered hands to his bright blue eyes and the gentle tilt to his lips. He flickers his gaze again, brows furrowing in confusion.
“What?”
“Take me to your leader, or whatever the hell I’m supposed to say in this situation.” He shrugs, a casual and easy motion. “I’m turning myself in.”
In response, Kyle just shakes his head. He eyes him skeptically, knowing nothing like this was ever freely given. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to,” the blond says gently. “At least not yet. Just know that I’m willing to go with you.”
“What are you getting from this?”
“Shit dude,” the cyborg says in clear exasperation, “what’s this an honor thing or something? Look, you live in South Park, right? Well there’s something there that I’m looking for,” he shrugs, “I figure you could be my ticket in.”
“You do realize I’m capturing you, right?”
“I do.”
He meets his eyes. It’s a risk, Kyle knows this as well as anything. He was raised on the knowledge that anything robotic should by no circumstance be trusted, and that the half-machine before him was either waiting for the perfect moment to stab him in the back or a way to infiltrate their town. Not that Kyle would let him, but that had to be what he was planning.
...Right?
But as Kyle stares at him, he can’t find a single trace of malice. Nothing that would suggest ill-intentions or anything besides the soft curiosity lining his eyes as he waited for Kyle’s decision.
Kyle reaches into his pocket and takes out the two metal rings. The cyborg doesn’t so much as flinch as he slips them over his gloved hands or even when they instantly come to life using the freeze-technology South Park was known for.
And so, their deal was sealed.
Kyle rises to his feet, and grabs his gun and pockets it. The cyborg doesn’t move, just watches him until Kyle leans down to help pull him to his feet. Once standing, Kyle eyes his form as he thinks. Luckily the blond was small, a short and skinny little thing. It shouldn’t be-
“Like what you see?”
His thoughts are interrupted by the blond who had gone to smirking at him, wiggling his hips a little.
Kyle glares and shoves his mask back over his head to hide the redness he knows is creeping onto his face. “No.”
The cyborg giggles, but thankfully doesn’t add anything else to that nature. Instead he just tilts his head in a way that Kyle might have called cute if he wasn’t a deadly cyborg. “I’m Kenny, by the way.”
Kyle nods but doesn’t respond, kind of hating how the name only made him seem more human. Instead, he just walks up to him and leans down to get into a position to pick him up.
“Okay, all kidding aside,” Kenny says as he laughs somewhat nervously at Kyle’s odd positioning, “what the hell are you doing?”
“I need to carry you,” Kyle explains right before he goes to lift him.
Of course, the moment he does a sharp pain shoots down his injured arm and he steps away clutching it to him. Feeling as if he just ripped the wound open again he squinches his eyes shut and grits his teeth, taking several deep breaths as the initial wave of pain passes.
“You’re injured,” the blond says, that weird concern settled in his gaze once again.
He shakes his head. “I’m fine,” he gasps.
“Dude, you know if you want I could-”
“I said I’m fine!” He snaps, causing Kenny to slightly recoil. Kyle takes a deep breath, looking out at the horizon and the town that was but a speck somewhere in the distance. “We’re just going to have to walk back.”
“Uh yeah...wait, did you seriously expect to fly us both back on that little jetpack?”
Kyle blinks.
“Yeah.”
“Dude.”
“Look,” Kyle crosses his arms, wincing at the pull the action has on his injury. “I don’t usually bring people back alive. I didn’t really think this through.”
“I’ll say,” Kenny says with a roll of his eyes, before gesturing forward with a tilt of his head. “Well, then lead the way, oh great captor.”
With an eye roll of his own, Kyle does as he’s told and together they start their journey back.