Archive of Our Own

Doombringer had asked Taph to return to their apartment after their last demolition job. He stuck by them for this one—to make sure you're safe, he'd insisted was his reasoning, but Taph worried that it might have been because he didn't trust them to get the job done properly. It wasn't an experience, it was a location within greater Robloxia, someone's home. Taph ignored their nerves, they'd gotten over the disagreement they had some time ago.

It's been a month and he hasn't gotten that angry with them again ever since. He didn't say much about it, but he admitted that he'd lost his temper, and Taph said he was right and that it was okay. They recalled that he didn't respond to that, he looked at them with a scowl, and maybe he already knew he was right so he didn't need to hear it. They didn't have the nerve to mention it again, they understood, they were wrong and he was right and that's just the way it is.

He'd been nicer the last month since then, which Taph was grateful for, and they thought it must mean he forgave them. So they moved on from it, they tried to forget how badly it frightened them when he lost his temper, they instead thought of how happy they were when he came back and he was kind again. Soon enough, it was like it never even happened.

Taph led him back to their apartment as the sun began to set, avoiding being seen by anyone, which at this point had become such an instinct that they did it unconsciously. He was quiet the whole time, and they couldn't help their mind from feeling nervous. Doombringer hadn't been to their apartment more than once, he came over the day after their night out together in order to return their keys, but he hardly saw inside much, Taph had been too nervous to let him see anything. And now—walking through their door, and holding it open for him as he walked inside—Taph's heart was racing.

It's was so dusty, they haven't swept at all—their bed wasn't made either—and it wasn't even clean. Taph quickly panicked, slamming the door shut behind him and hurrying to pick up some blankets off the floor in the main room, and tossed them onto the couch hastily. They prayed he wouldn't notice how run down the entire building was already, they typically tried to keep their space cozy enough, but Taph had never minded it's state before. They weren't sure if he'd mind it, though, and that's what matters.

Doombringer, oddly enough, didn't react at all—he walked in confidently and he stepped right past Taph and into the open doorway to their room, as if the space wasn't new to him at all. Taph nervously followed after him, their hands fidgeting restlessly with their cloak. He glanced around their whole room, then he turned and looked at them, and Taph leaned back and sat on the edge of their bed, the old blankets all messy beneath them. Their hands gripped their knees, unsure of what else to do with them.

“I need some of your explosives.” Doombringer explained, then he looked at their desk, which was covered in junk they used to build trinkets.

Scrap metal, electrical circuits, coils of wire, and miscellaneous deactivated explosive devices. There was even more of it collected in wooden storage boxes beneath the desk, and on the shelves above it. Taph hadn't taken a trip out to the countryside in a while, they haven't worked on their experiments much at all, not since they started working for Doombringer.

They supposed that the excitement of using HQ-standard tripmines had just made the idea of pipebombs and landmines and claymores a whole lot less exciting. Everything seems so bland, in comparison to the Subspace Tripmine, it's like a revolver being compared to a heavy machine gun, there was just no comparison to be made.

They supposed, maybe, Doombringer had distracted them a little bit too.

‘My bombs?’ Taph asked him.

“Tripmines won't be neccesary.” He explained. His eyes narrowed, looking down at something on the center of their desk.

Taph noticed, and they pushed themself up off the bed and hurried over to him. On the center of the desk was the last thing they'd tried to build—though it hadn't been tested and it wasn't really finished either. It looked like a usual PVC pipebomb, but lodged in the center of the pipe was a shard of the Subspace Tripmine. An idea they'd had that had kept them up at night long enough to get up and actually consider it.

Taph picked it up and showed it to him, he observed it slowly, not seeming very interested, but also a bit confused. They pulled their notebook out from their pocket.

‘Trip-mine pipebomb.’ Taph wrote.

“Why?” He seemed to genuinely not get it—though Taph understood why, he wasn't experienced with explosives, he probably didn't handle them in his line of work, which was mostly law enforcement from their understanding. Nor did he probably understand the flaws some had, he didn't work with them as much as they did.

For a moment, they got very excited to have something they knew more about than him, maybe he'd like to know more. But they tried not to look over-eager as they explained.

‘the trip-mine is activated by pressure.’ Taph explained. ‘It needs a trap to detonate.’

Doombringer, for once, actually kept his eyes on them as they signed, and Taph went on, almost immediately losing that urge to hide their interest in the topic.

‘I think warmth is pressure too. I could make a trip-mine with Subspace that explodes when I want. Does not need pressure.’ They looked down at the bomb, and pointed to the Subspace shard lodged inside. ‘It's not perfect. I need reinforcement. It might be dangerous.’

“Dangerous, how?” He questioned.

‘Subspace eats your bones.’ Taph reminded him. ‘Does not vaporize. It eats very fast. Like mushrooms.’

“...You figured that out?” He murmured.

‘Yes.’ They signed.

After the time they used it on the cows, Taph did their research and found that the subspace tripmine was not actually as magical as it seemed. It had an organic process, it was just very rapid, in a matter of seconds it ate away at anything in its path, including flesh and bone, and disintegrated it.

It didn't just make things disappear, it consumed them completely, and so fast that it looked like they'd disappeared. So it's likely that it would cause some short pain, if caught in a blast, like something being dropped into acid and dissolving. Though that also means a Subspace Tripmine accident would be survivable, as long as it only dissolved some flesh and didn't get time to reach bone.

Doombringer stared at them, his eyes narrowed—but he was calm, strangely so. “Seems dangerous to build these here.” He muttered.

Maybe, but Taph knew what they were doing, they've never had an accident before. Still they nodded along with what he said, because he's right, there's a chance of it happening, it just hasn't happened yet.

Taph then realized that this was probably illegal to do In their apartment—and Doombringer is the head of moderation standing right here watching them explain what they're doing. They glanced at him warily, but he just smirked, and didn't say anything more about it.

It is kind of crazy to have him in their room, right now. They'd have thought they were insane if they ever tried to tell themself they'd someday have an admin standing in their own bedroom.

Doombringer stepped around them, over to the window which opened up to the fire escape. He looked down, a cold breeze blew past the curtains, and Taph trailed after him. The sun had gone down, it was dark, and Taph couldn't help feeling nervous again.

“You remember, I mentioned I had a case going on?” Doombringer glanced over at them.

They looked up at him, Taph glanced over his face, but when he looked back his eyes were calm—no anger showed in them, and Taph trusted him.

“I need a favor.” He said. “Explosives, and someone who can rig them.”

Oh, he was talking about them—he wanted Taph to help him with a case?

They weren't entirely sure what to think, as he looked at them and waited for a response, Taph struggled for an answer. It's an honor to help him with his work, and they've always wanted to be more involved—but did they really belong there?

Their feathers puffed out a bit, Taph stood up a bit taller. Of course they do, they're working with him, aren't they? And he's helped them out with their work, there's no problem with returning the favor. They'd be happy to help him, they should be, and they nodded their head as fast as they could.

Doombringer didn't seem pleased, particularly—he must've figured they'd answer that way—well, Taph chose to think that's a good thing, it means he believes in them still.

They left Taph's apartment with a handful of C-4 and a hefty rigging device that would set them off, Doombringer led them out into the woods, deep into the trees and far from the city, it's lights grew dim the further they went. The two of them walked mostly in silence, trudging through the undergrowth—Taph had ditched their skirt to make it easier, but Doombringer had no trouble stepping over shrubs and roots.

Taph stumbled a bit, and he looked back at them to ensure they kept up—Taph hurried after him with an added speed. They came across the train tracks again, and Doombringer paused, before taking a left, down the track. Taph followed him, they stepped up onto one rail at the edge and walked carefully across It, balancing on their heels and the tip of their boots.

“...This was marked for demolition.” Doombringer murmured as he walked. He could not balance like Taph did, nor did he want to, he walked straight down the middle of the track.

“The green line.” He clarified. “Used to take you straight to Meep City, stopped getting visits—no more visitors and it stopped being necessary. They shut it down last year.”

Doombringer continued on walking, his footsteps solid and confident, while Taph walked the line uneasily. “Protests got worse, couldn't get rid of it, now it's under review—it’ll be sitting here useless for months.”

Taph began to walk slower, but Doombringer had not eased his pace, and so they hurried up again. They did their research on the protests, mostly to double check that their work was legal. Taph had never heard of something that intense happening, involving admins, it all seemed terribly serious, but people didn't often talk about it. As if it were so bad that it was unspeakable. They often criticized administration for the actions they took—Taph could never do that. Though maybe they'd just been a bit distracted, a little heartbroken over losing their chance so early.

‘What happened?’ Taph hesitantly asked.

Doombringer watched them, his eyes narrowed, but surprisingly, he complied.

“The problem grew out of control.” He answered simply. “The numbers died down to only the high-ranks. Ten workers under Builderman, fulfilling every order. It was a mess long before the end.”

Taph listened as his pace began to slow and his eyes looked ahead, almost thoughtful for a moment. “A residential area was marked for demolition, three separate homes destroyed at once—the orders were marked wrong.”

“You can't expect perfection…but you can expect some competence.” Doombringer scoffed. “Not from Builderman, not this time.”

Taph looked away—his criticism of Builderman made them a bit uneasy, they'd always admired him so much—not only as an authority figure, but as a great inventor—Taph had researched about him a lot. Sometimes they wished they could be as smart as he was—he just seemed perfect. Clever, kind-hearted, passionate, every public appearance, he just seemed to know himself so well.

Taph sometimes wasn't sure if they knew themself all that much, if they did, they figured they'd know how to adapt to difficult things a little easier. Maybe if they did, they'd have made something great like Builderman had done so many times—and they'd have something more to be proud of.

“...They gathered a gang of six, rounded up two demolition workers, right around the corner from Headquarters.” Doombringer went on, and Taph felt tense as he continued his retelling. “One was found dumped beneath a bridge, the other—beat him till he couldn't walk, five days later, he's dead too.”

Taph stared at him, their wings remained stiff in the air, they held their breath as he looked at them. Then he turned straight ahead, a tense look in his eyes as he watched the trees folding around the tracks.

“Then they dismantled the demolition branch.” Doombringer muttered. “That’s what it takes, for a man like him to step up… Someone has to die.”

‘He had hope.’ Taph insisted, unable to truly criticize Builderman themself.

“What did hope give him? Blood on his hands, and another responsibility on my back.” Doombringer growled, his voice low with anger.

Taph paused walking, and Doombringer took a few steps before he stopped too. He turned on them—his posture was calm, but his eyes were burning.

“This world is rotten.” He told them. “All the way down to the center.”

Taph stared at him, their hands twitched uncertainly, they looked down for a moment, then back up. ‘I don't know.’ They signed.

“You’ve only been topside, you haven't seen its underbelly.” He insisted. “What's down there, it isn't for your eyes—It doesn't bring a man up, it beats him down.”

Doombringer turned a bit to the side, his tense eyes turned back to Taph, and his tone was calm and serious, Taph found it difficult to question him.

“You understand.” He assured. “I know you do.”

Taph thought for a moment, of their life, all twenty fives years that they've lived it. They'd been treated unfairly before, that's a given, everyone goes through it sometimes, but being the way they are it happens more often. That's another reason they liked Doombringer more than anyone else—because he never told them to speak up, he never told them to quit it with the hand signals, or to warn people that you're an inconvenience next time you work with them. He understood their signs, he understood Taph, he didn't fault them for things out of their control.

And he did things that hurt sometimes—things they didn't want to fault him for either, but he understood. He understood like no one else ever had, and with him, they finally felt like it was possible for someone to hear them.

So maybe he was right, people are cruel sometimes, maybe they deserved some criticism.

‘I understand.’ Taph signed.

Doombringer nodded. “We’ll see if you mean that.” He said.

Taph watched him, their wings curiously raised, and their ears pricked. They weren't sure what he meant, but they tried to understand it—not that it was ever easy to understand.

‘I trust H-Q.’ Taph told him, and he got a disapproving look in his tense eyes.

“...It could have been you under that bridge.” Doombringer said.

Taph leaned back, the thought sort of disturbed them, of dying alone and afraid like that, someplace dark and wet and far from home. It was frightening to even think about—but was he trying to discourage them from HQ? After he'd said they had a chance? They weren't sure why he'd do that.

A dark thought crossed their mind, one they felt inclined to express, even if it made them nervous to say.

‘If it was me. Would you care?’ Taph asked, tilting their head.

Doombringer didn't take his eyes off them for a good long minute, looking up and down multiple times, tracing their form until he averted his gaze. He turned back ahead, down the end of the tracks.

“...We’ll see.” He muttered.

It took less than a mile before he moved off the tracks, Taph followed closely, into the thick of the woods until the tracks grew further and all they could see was trees. It went on that way, dark and desolate, with only their joint footsteps to carry on the silence—Doombringers heavy-footed hooves, and Taph's old boots, their heels breaking leaves with every other step.

Taph hadn't realized they'd come up on a hill until Doombringer began to slow down, he moved his arm out, stopping them in their tracks, and Taph looked out, down the hill where a large building waited.

The end of the track—it was a train station, it went in one way but not the other—only two tracks, but this wasn't where he'd said it ended, it was nowhere near an experience hub. It seemed to have been abandoned much longer than only a year. Taph turned to Doombringer, he crouched down low to the ground and they repeated his movement, his eyes stayed trained on the building below them.

“That's our target.” Doombringer spoke up.

Our target, he'd said—Taph looked at him and he looked back, his eyes calm and focused. They tried to sit up a little straighter even while crouching, and folded their wings neatly.

Our target, our mission—Taph liked the sound of that.

They moved down onto their knees and pulled their satchel In front of them—inside was the C-4, not many of them, but enough to fill their bag and powerful enough to destroy at least a full room, which was what he said they'd need. They turned to him for guidance, but he did not move at all from where he was.

“Listen carefully.” Doombringer said, Taph nodded a bit too quickly. “This is important. Focus.”

Taph straightened their posture and looked right at him, so he went on. “There’s a few train cars inside that building, by the second track.” He pointed to one side—there were two halves, each with a triangular roof, but down the middle was a shorter section separating them with a flat roof.

This is a storage place, Taph realized, it was off the main track, a collection point for items. So that one side must be where the storage stops—but if this is still property owned by the city, then how could it be a good place to hide anything, surely someone wouldn't leave this unguarded? They chose not to ask him about it.

“You'll enter from a back entrance, exactly where I show you…From there, check every train car until you find one that's full, and keep checking.” Doombringer explained. “Rig the C-4 until you're out of it, get out of there, and come back to me. Your job ends there.”

‘That's simple.’ Taph said.

“I wouldn't overcomplicate it.” He replied.

Maybe they'd thought it would be harder—something a bit more difficult, a bit of a challenge. But maybe solving crime wasn't all that complicated, maybe it was just as simple as he said—or it just seemed that way to Taph, who admittedly, had no idea what they were doing here—all they knew was how to rig an explosive. They knew absolutely nothing about law, or moderation, or anything of that sort.

‘What is inside?’ Taph asked. ‘Are there people inside?’

His voice was stern. “Dont think too much, you'll slow down.” He said.

They supposed he was right about that, and so they didn't ask him another question, but he went on regardless. “You want to know what it's like to be an administrator?” Doombringer asked.

Taph startled, their heart skipped at the thought—god, that's sort of a lofty idea, but once he said it they couldn't help thinking g about it. This is taking it a step further, they're doing moderation work for an actual moderator—the head of moderation, the chief of law inforcement—what else were they supposed to think? But to just be amazed all over again?

Doombringer watched them closely, his eyes scanned their whole form. Taph eagerly nodded, their hands clasped together, their fingers interlocked as if in prayer.

“...Then this is your moment, make it count.” He said.

They both trekked down to the bottom of the hill, Taph was agile as they climbed past each stone until they made it down. Doombringer lead them around the side of the building, there was a door along the edge of one side, but it didn't open—though all along the building and about the same height as the door, there were small windows.

Doombringer didn't test the door, but he held them back from going any further, holding onto the end of their cloak. Taph looked up at him.

His eyes narrowed, he stepped over to one of the high up windows and looked into it, then he looked at Taph again. They came up next to him, he seemed to be observing them, then he reached up and pried the window open, and moved both his arms down.

“Come on.” He urged.

Taph didn't want to hesitate—not In front of him, he needed them to be brave right now, and they would. So they stepped up onto his hand carefully—it wasn't difficult for him to lift them, and they kicked their other foot up onto the wall for stability, hauling themself up into the thin gap.

They hardly fit through it, so they knew Doombringer would never have fit either, only Taph could do it. They wedged themself past, having to move onto their side to fit, until—very suddenly, they made it, and came tumbling down to the other side, right onto solid concrete.

They gasped, the wind knocked out of them for a moment, but they fell on their wing—which definitely hurt, but at least it saved their shoulder. They flexed it uncomfortably, the muscles straining for a moment before they recovered.

Taph waited to hear Doombringer's voice again, but it never came, instead they heard his footsteps once more, walking away from the window—he was leaving. Taph waited to hear him come back, but the silence dragged on and they were sure he wasn't going to. They tried to reason that it's because he wants to be out of sight, though having him gone this soon made them feel a bit uneasy.

They pushed themself up off the ground and kicked the dust off their boots. The room around them was small, some sort of office or storage space, with shelves on every wall that were mostly empty. Taph stepped over to the nearest door, which was opened just slightly—they peeked outside of the room.

There was a long hallway, all the walls were concrete and the floors were dirty, leftover luggage and junk was thrown all over. They stepped out into the hall, their footsteps were loud and they tried to tip-toe to move quieter.

There were more offices along the hall, but at the end there was a more secure door that Taph hurried over to—they wiped some dust off the glass and peered inside. It opened up to this wide area, mostly empty with tall support beams, and a high ceiling with windows, but Taph could see some gaps for tracks in the center. They moved to the side, and there were exits for the tracks, two huge gates, and either track had some old box cars sitting on them.

Taph tried to open the door, but it was locked, so they moved further down the hall. There should be another entrance, and as they walked, they spotted a rusty metal staircase—they went up to a second floor, and then another. Until Taph found themself above the loading dock, on some sort of balcony that overlooked it.

They searched for a way to climb down as it wasn't very high, but they didn't want to risk jumping. The balcony wrapped around the building, all along every side, and then a few parts ran through the middle—there were things stored up here too, but they didn't seem very important. On one side, near one of the box cars, part of the balcony was damaged and falling down into the loading dock, a broken piece of it was on the ground, and it slanted down just slightly. Taph walked over to it, they stayed low down and kept their attention always on the ground below them, just to be safe.

Taph tested the strength of the collapsed balcony—it was hanging low enough that they could get down onto the box car from here, probably without hurting themself. But if it fell apart under them it wouldn't work out well.

They took the risk either way, placing their foot down on the ramp, their hands fisting the metal rungs along the railing. They managed to keep their heels attached to the gaps in the metal, and they slid down, stumbling a bit before their foot came loose and they collapsed down into the roof of the box car.

Taph caught themself, and they moved quickly, getting back up and then jumping down onto the tracks below. That wasn't difficult, so far it hasn't been very hard at all—though they'd never been too bad at sneaking, they were light and quick on their feet—probably a lot more than Doombringer, that must be why he sent them.

Taph reached for the door of the train car, when suddenly they heard a thud—then the creak of a door opening and closing. They looked down, a sudden fear flickered in their heart, because they heard footsteps come toward them, and all they could think to do was hide. They moved down onto the tracks beneath the platform above, threw themself onto their stomach, and crawled under the train car.

The footsteps came closer, and Taph pulled their wings in and remained completely still. They held their breathe as the sound approached them, their hands gripped the tracks for something to hold onto.

A pair of sneakers came into view, they stepped up to the gap and then vanished, too far up to see from down here, but Taph could hear them stop, and then the door to the train car slid open. They held their breath as the person walked above them, something dragged across the ground, and they muttered something muffled and incomprehensible.

He hadn't said there would be anyone here—should they have prepared for that? All Taph had was a switchblade in their satchel along with the C-4, but that wasn't going to do them any favors, not if these people were stronger. They had no idea if they were—but they could have weapons—if they were being tracked by Doombringer himself, then surely they were dangerous.

Taph's heart was pounding, they could almost hear it deep in their ears, pulsing with nerves as the footsteps above them continued on. They'd wait until they left—then they'd plant the C-4 and they could climb back up to the balcony. They were sure they could do it, they've climbed before, they're agile—they can manage.

If they ever leave, that is—they were taking a while up there. Taph remained completely still the whole time, and they went unnoticed. Eventually the dragging stopped, and the stranger stepped out of the train car and slammed the door shut behind them. Taph listened until they could see that same pair of sneakers again, leaving the platform and going back the way they came.

Taph didn't move until they were certain the person had left, even if they waited a good five minutes too long, even if it was unnecessary. Being careful was what they knew best.

Eventually Taph crawled out from under the train car, they peeked past the gap—but that door was closed again, and the entire space was empty. Save for the dull drone of the wind outside, it was dead silent—so they crept out from the line of the tracks and back up onto the platform.

Just make it quick—they can work fast, they always work fast. Though something about all of this unnerved them, knowing that anyone could walk back out from that door—anyone, who could be armed with anything—and if they were caught, they didn't see themself being let go easily.

Taph opened the door to the train car and closed it behind them just in case, it was dark in here, they reached into their satchel and retrieved their lighter—though it wasn't as much help as a flashlight would be, it would have to work for now.

There were dozens of wooden boxes in here, all nailed shut with no labels, or at least the labels were all random. These boxes were stolen, or they were found here, but they certainly weren't right. Taph wasn't sure if they should be curious about whatever was inside, Doombringer hadn't told them to check, he just told them to destroy them.

Taph found themself prying open one of the boxes regardless, they retrieved their switchblade and carved against the nails until they managed to get one loose. They'd since flicked the lighter away, but when they turned it back on, they caught a glimpse inside.

There were small brown packages, stacked up in neat rows, at least over a dozen of them in one, none of them labeled, but the implication wasn't lost on them, they could only think of one thing—and that was narcotics. Drugs—they prodded at one of them, and while It was solid, it wasn't entirrly. Taph wasn't sure what they'd expected when they were told to destroy contraband, but it wasn't this. They thought maybe stolen limiteds, fakes, black market stuff—not this.

Did he really think they could handle this? If they were caught in here, they'd be killed, he knew that right? No one would ever let a witness go with evidence this serious.

Taph wanted to remind themself that they could take whatever he threw at them—but all of this considered, they weren't sure they could do it. But they're already here, and he's waiting, they were in far too deep to back out now.

So they had to be quick—thats fine, they can be fast, they always work fast—this is just work, a different kind of work, but it's still work. It's only another demolition job, just like any other, they know what to do.

Taph put the box back together as well as they could, and they ignored what they found inside it. They opened up their satchel, filled to the brim with C-4 charges, and they started their task. They stuck the first one against the wall on one side of the car and then another on the second. Typically, Taph used them on a timer, but the rig that Doombringer gave them was special—it was Headquarters technology, power through radio signals, it was frequency, something they didn't often get to mess with—they couldn't afford it. The rig connected to each individual charge, so long as they were marked under the same number. Then it took only one button press to set them all off at once—but it wouldn't be safe to blow them up while they're inside the building.

They set two C-4 charges in this car, on either side of it—then they hurried out. They were careful, peeking around the edge just to make sure no one was out there, then they moved on to the next one. Another red, slightly orange colored box car, sort of a rusty texture—and inside, more boxes of the same stuff.

It was when Taph had already loaded two cars and reached the third one, on the same track as the second, that they heard those footsteps again. They moved down low and crawled across the car, there was a stack of wooden boxes piled high and they hid behind them, thankfully the door was already closed. They pulled their wings in and remained as silent as they possibly could, whoever it was, it wasn't only them this time, because they heard a second pair of footsteps following behind them.

The voices were muffled, but Taph could make them out good enough.

“How many times have you checked the perimeter?” A surly, masculine voice spoke.

“Over a dozen times tonight, I've checked the cars too.” Another, slightly higher pitched, but also fairly masculine. “No one's breaking in, no one's in the know but us.”

“Then why's Gabe still out?” The first man seemed older.

“He got cold feet.” The younger one spoke. “I didn't, so what are you interrogating me for?”

“...Get over yourself.” The older man scoffed.

The footsteps trailed up to their train car, Taph went still, they didn't move a single muscle, waiting for the dark to be interrupted, for moonlight to filter through the door—but it never opened.

“There's three of us, and a whole lot of those guys were sellin’ to.” The older man went on. “So watch your tongue, we're being careful for a reason.”

Taph heard him place a hand on the door to the train car—they held their breathe, their heart pounding as each second dragged by slower than the last, time seemed to pause for a moment.

“You checked this one too?” He asked.

“...’course I did.” The other one replied.

“Alright… that's all I asked... so we're done here, come on.”

Taph wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but all they could do was keep it contained until they walked away—then, finally, they breathed out, their wings twitched uncomfortably, and Taph freed them from their place, crushed against the wall of the car.

Quickly—get the job done quickly, that's all they have to do. Taph tried to remember what Doombringer would think, if they didn't finish this—its the only thing that matters right now. Getting the job done is all that ever matters.

Taph crept out of hiding, they listened to the silence outside, waiting for another voice of more footsteps, and when none came—they rigged another set of C-4 charges, and fled from the train car.

That was the final one, so Taph climbed back up onto the first train car, their heart still pounding, and clamored up onto the balcony above them. They climbed skillfully, agile and quick, and with maybe a bit too much fear and adrenaline in their system, it did most of the work. They reached the stairs and stepped down them slowly, creeping past each corner until they almost reached the bottom.

Then they heard them again, people walking around—and their heart lurched once more, too nervous not to react. They were on the level above them, so Taph hurried down to the bottom, they held their satchel close to their hip—and they knew already, their footsteps must've been heard, but they couldn't do anything else but run and hide.

Someone shouted up above, Taph kept on running, until they reached a corner and ducked behind it, just in time to go unnoticed when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Who's down here!?” Someone called out.

Taph flattened themself against the wall, they closed their eyes for a moment, bracing for whatever would happen next. Taph heard a click, but it couldn't be a flashlight because nothing showed up, or a radio, because that was all they heard—so they knew right away. It had to be a gun, what type they didn't know, but it was some kind of gun.

Surely Doombringer will hear if they fire it, right? He wouldn't leave them here with this, he knew they weren't ready for it—he said that before, all they're meant to do is set those bombs—they're not meant to fight.

Of course he'll come back, once he notices something is wrong. He wouldn't let these people catch them, he's an admin, he’d never put them in danger.

Taph could tell they were following after them, so they started to move quietly down the hall—they tried to think calmly, though they weren't quite managing it. Their heart kept racing, and they couldn't stay focused on one direction, they kept looking back and watching the walls.

They knew, they knew they were here, there wasn't much time—Taph found another door, back into the loading dock—it was wide, more open, there were places to hide and they'd be able to escape out of those big gates on the tracks. Taph pushed the door open, thankful that it was unlocked—they’d certainly hear it close, but with any luck they'd find a hiding place or a way out before they reach them.

The silence was deafening, the echoing sound of their footsteps only scared them more. There were pillars, other doors to run for, things to hide behind—but Taph's attention was drawn to those open gates—if they could just make it over there, they'd be out of the building—Doombringer was out there, they'd make it back to him in time.

Taph ran for the gates, but they heard something behind them and so they turned instead to jump down onto the tracks and hide behind a train-car. They stayed for a moment, in silence, breathing as quietly as they could. The door opened, just a few feet away, and Taph didn't move any further.

They were quiet when they stepped into the room, but as they got closer, they spoke.

“Someone ran out that door.” It was the same voice as that younger man before.

“I already heard it.” Another spoke. “Probably got out the gate.”

“...So we should go after them.” The first man said. “Who knows what they're doing here.”

“Could be anything…could be nothing.” The older man said. “Could just be a squatter.”

Taph eased away, closer to the other side of the gap. They considered just running for it—if they climbed out quietly and ran to the gate, maybe they could make it to the top of the hill and return to Doombringer in time. But they have guns, what if they start firing? They didn't have the first clue on how to dodge a bullet, they didn't know what they were doing here at all.

They'll try for the gate, it's the only clear shot they have. Taph moved around the corner of the train car, they backed up a bit—the trees outside were just a few feet away—if they could just find the courage to run.

Taph climbed up the other side of the gap, with the train-car between them and the men they were hiding from. Their satchel slipped down their arm and they hauled it back up, stumbling a bit as they got off the ground. They were about to move when a voice raised over the ominous quiet.

“Here!”

Taph threw themself back onto their feet and ran, faster than they've ever run in their life—a shot whizzed through the air, and they kept running—but someone came from their side and they were tackled onto the ground.

The rig for the explosives slipped from their pocket and skidded across the ground, they panicked and reached for—it was all that really matters here—if they couldn't detonate the C-4, they'd have failed. Their first reaction to retrieve it was to fight, so they reared their arm back and hit him in the head with their elbow. The moment they got any distance they crawled back to the rig and snatched it up again.

But just as fast as they'd retrieved it, they lost it again, as a powerful hand came down on their wrist and they let go of the device. Taph heard a gun click, a finger resting on a trigger—and they stilled for a moment.

“...Fuckin’ thief.” The man above them muttered.

“Definitely not a thief.” Another spoke.

What are they supposed to do? They can't even make an excuse—and they have guns, this is serious—where in Robloxia is
Doombringer, didn't he hear that shot?

Taph reached for the rig again, they kicked and fought until they had it in their hands once more, and they shoved it into their pocket fast enough to not be noticed. The man hauled them up onto their feet. Their wings shot out defensively, and they struggled as he reached for their hood, so much so that he couldn't manage to get it off. He wrapped his arm around their throat, and the other, older man, pulled their hood down harshly.

Taph couldn't help breathing deep as they were examined, their eyes shot in every direction. It was so discomforting, it made their stomach turn. But they felt the frighteningly cold tip of a gun at the side of their skull, and they didn't fight, they stared straight ahead at the unfamiliar man in front of them.

He was grey-haired with a beard, and dressed in dark clothes, but nothing very descriptive. They were always careful around strange people, naturally so, they were never one to get close enough to trust a stranger.

Taph had never been around guns before, either. They'd seen Doombringer carry one a few times, but only on his belt, he never took it off. They understood they weren't legal in Robloxia at all, they were only legal in experiences, and even then it was only with strict safety restrictions, that alone always made them frightening to think about—anyone who had access to guns had to be trouble.

“I do wanna know what this is, though.” The older man spoke, the confidence in his tone made their heart skip with fear. “Petty theft? Spying?...You don't look homeless, that's for damn sure, but you do look awfully suspicious.”

“...Is that a lady, or a boy?” A third man asked, he was a yellow-toned Robloxian, and he eyed Taph suspiciously beneath the brim of a hat.

“Does that matter?” The younger one asked.

“No, it don't.” The older one said, he must be the leader of whatever this was. “Don't matter whatever you are…you're still a rat either way, aren't you?”

He came up close to them and Taph reeled their head back, but it only thumped against the chest of the one holding them. They felt terribly claustrophobic, and their heart felt like it was going to stop completely—maybe it'll just give out and kill them right here.

The man snapped his fingers, and Taph flinched badly—he started to chuckle. “Not deaf, are ya? …So you think you have a right to ignore me, then?”

Taph shook their head, they gripped tight against the arm around their throat. They couldn't stop shaking their head, they were terrified—truly, genuinely terrified—this is so far out of their league, they weren't ready for this—he never said there would be people here.

There was a third man, somewhere behind him, his gun was even bigger—they weren't sure what type, they didn't know anything about weapons—it looked a bit like a shotgun. Taph imagined that being pointed at them, and they felt their heart panicking once again.

“Silent treatment won't do you good.” The grey-haired man stepped closer to Taph—and they moved their head up, their eyes glancing fearfully at the gun pointed to their temple, just out of sight, but pressed firmly enough that they could feel it.

His eyes narrowed, and he muttered quickly. “Search ‘em.”

There wasn't time to react, but even if there was, they doubted they'd have done much. Their satchel was forced off their shoulder and dumped on the ground, and when they tried to struggle, they were pulled back, closer to the train tracks. The man dragged them away with far too much ease—they couldn't do anything, they were helpless—where is Doombringer?

Taph felt their heart catch as they were suddenly thrown off the platform, down onto the tracks. It wasn't a very dangerous fall, but they landed on their shoulder hard against the metal rails, and a sudden spike of pain ran down their arm. They waited for a moment too long and the man quickly joined them down there.

The older one rummaged through their bag, while the other one stood there on the track—as if he expected Taph to do something, or maybe he thought they'd start talking. Of course they couldnt—and they've never felt so terrified to have no voice than they did now—there was nothing they could even say, but maybe begging wouldn't have even helped, they didn't have an excuse.

Taph crawled back away from him, their arm ached from the painful nudge to their shoulder, and he followed them until they were up against the concrete walls of the platform. They tried to get away, but he grabbed them by the front of their cloak. There was a sudden crack, quick and unseen, he punched them right across the face, one fast strike to the eye, the pain was abrupt.

They looked down at the metal tracks beneath them, their mouth hanging open with ragged breaths—and they didn't quite process what had happened until blood dripped down into the gravel below. Even when they spit it out, the taste didn't leave their mouth.

God, they've never been hit like that before, they've never been in a real fight once. This is way out of their control, and it was terrifying.

They looked away as he searched their pockets, Taph stopped struggling so much, they remembered that all three of these people had guns, and if they did anything risky they couldn't know what would happen next. The very real possibility of death hung over their head, never once had they been in a situation that warranted it, but now it felt so close in reach that they could hardly breathe.

“What’s this, huh?” He'd stolen the rig from their pocket, but he didn't seem to know what it was, thank god.

Taph closed their eyes and ignored him, and in response he grabbed their throat and shoved them against the concrete wall of the pit. His grip was tight, Taph still tried to turn their head away from him as he got closer.

“Answer me, bitch, you want trouble right now?” He spat. “Cause you'll get a whole lot of it if you don't start talking.”

“Wait a minute, Colt.” The older man stepped over to the pit and reached his arm down, Taph flinched at the sound of his footsteps. He took the rig from his friend, and for a moment, it was quiet, it was calm, and they started pleading.

‘Wait.’ Taph signed. ‘Please. I can't talk.’

It only seemed to confuse him, or maybe if he recognized it as sign language, he just didn't care. The attention was torn from them, both heads turned away, there was a terrifying look of recognition in that man's face as he examined the rig in his hands.

“...This is headquarters tech.” He quietly spoke.

“Are you serious?” The third one, that was still above the track, called out.

“Yes. It's got their emblem.”

Taph held their breathe, waiting, as they spoke amongst themselves as if they weren't even there. The hand on their throat tightened and they clawed at it pitifully, they couldn't get any traction, their gloves proved to be a disadvantage here.

“Which admin…!?”

“They don't go writin’ their damn names on it.”

Taph realized then, something they hadn't expected to see—they were afraid, it was clear, their tones had changed and their eyes were glancing around more. A sudden tension flooded the air at the mention of admins. They were afraid of being caught—or were they scared of someone in particular?

…Good. It's good that they're afraid.

Taph was shoved back against the wall, they tried to look away, but they were forced to face him head on. “Hey.” He spoke, his voice was low for a moment, Taph closed their eyes and he raised his tone. “Hey! …you work for Headquarters?”

Taph shook their head hastily, they licked at the blood staining their teeth, and his eyes narrowed with disdain—they inched back as much as they could, the taste in their mouth only reminded them of that hit they'd received, and their heart beat a bit faster.

“Colt.” The older man spoke calmly. The younger, certainly more aggressive one, named Colt, they supposed, turned back up to him on the platform. “Were leavin’, ditch the stash, take her with us.”

“They're coming tomorrow.” He argued.

“They’re gonna come and we won't be here either way, who do you think would pull a stunt like this?” He said. “It's him, it's gotta be… We're backing out. Now. We're takin’ his spy, and he can come make a deal if he gives a damn. But he's not catchin’ me on an off day.”

“And if he doesn't ‘give a damn’?” Colt asked.

“...Then we leave ‘er in a ditch.” The older man scoffed. Then he gathered up Taph's satchel and handed it over to his friend with the shotgun.

There was a moment where it was quiet again, and Taph couldn't take their eyes off that man up there—what did he mean, leave them in a ditch, what does that mean? That he'll kill them? Taph found their heart racing even faster—this was too much, way too much to handle, would they really have agreed to do this if they knew it would have such a high risk?

They didn't know, they truly couldn't say that they wouldn't—why was it so frightening that they didn't know?

Taph was suddenly released, they coughed at the sudden intake of air it gave them, but it was a short-lived victory. As the moment they took that first grateful breath, they were once again punched, this time across the jaw, which threw them down onto their hands—they slipped on the gravel, crumpled miserably on the rusty train tracks.

He stood up and put his gun back into his belt, he gripped Taph by their wing and forced them to stand, then he threw them against the nearby train car—their head hit the metal hard enough to confuse them again. They came closer, trying to pin their arms to the train car, Taph struggled against him, but their hands slipped whenever they tried to shove him away, and he kicked them in the knee, hard, making them loose their balance.

"Make it easy." He muttered into their ear, his hand gripped their throat again, their hands pinned to their chest, he almost laughed. "Or I'll have to bust your legs and drag you out of here myself."

"Colt, quit makin' a show of it, we don't have time." The older man scolded.

Taph shoved their hand against his face, struggling as much as they could without much space to move, he had the nerve to smile at them while they fought. It was all going down so fast, they hadn't quite processed what was going to happen, what they just said they'd do—and when the front of their cloak was grabbed once again, and he raised a fist once more, they almost didn't even react.

“...That's enough.” A voice rang out, someone further into the loading dock, someone different.

The voice was deep, and familiar, not a single one of the three men spoke when they turned to look at it—and they weren't quite footsteps that approached, it was something louder—heavy-footed—hooves. It was Doombringer.

Taph had never felt such a strong sense of relief than they did in that moment, all their muscles relaxed and they let out a deep breath they'd been holding—they're always happy to see him, every single time, but this is probably the happiest they've ever been to hear his voice.

Then they were snatched up by that aggressive man once again, he pulled Taph right up against him, their back pressed to his chest, and pointed the gun to their head. They kicked at his knee as well as they could at this angle, 

"Knock it off." He snarled, his hand slipped over the trigger.

They didnt struggle again, they looked up and at this distance, they could finally see Doombringer’s familiar shadowed figure up on the platform.

He also held a gun in his hand, a small standard pistol—the same one they'd seen him carry on his belt. Though it didn't seem all that intimidating compared to what the rest of them had, Taph still stared up at him with that same sense of admiration.

They pointed their guns at him, and he hardly even reacted, his was aimed right at the man still holding Taph.

“...’Careful.” Doombringer murmured.

“You can stop there.” The grey-haired man raised his voice. “That's far enough.”

Doombringer glanced at him, it was a short look, like he wasn't even bothered—Taph couldn't help being impressed again—how could he do that? Just stand there like he's not afraid at all? It must just be his training, they knew he's good as a moderator, or he wouldn't be such a high rank—but seeing it in real time really made it clear. He knows what he's doing, he's a professional—and god, they wished so badly that they could stop being afraid too.

“...We have your man, and you have us.” The leader went on, though his voice was shaking just a bit. “Sounds like a trade is in order to me.”

“What I hear is you're zero to one.” Doombringer mused, then he scoffed.. “...And I caught you with your pants down.”

“He doesn't give a damn, I told you—” Colt began, but he was quickly silenced by the older man telling him to shut it.

That’s not true—Taph was certain that it wasnt—he’s only trying to scare them, but he wouldn't want them to die. Who's going to do his demolition work for him, if they die? But even past that, surely he doesn't dislike them, he didn't say it directly, but Taph had to believe that. He never answered when they asked, he never said otherwise, that counted for something. He wouldn't let this happen.

“You can kill them.” Doombringer slowly said.

Taph stared at him, their eyes wide and fearful.

“Go ahead…but that's your only leverage.” His expression remained completely indifferent as he spoke. “The moment that bullet goes through their skull, what's stopping me?”

Taph held their breathe as they watched, waiting, for what they weren't sure, maybe for something to go wrong—for them to decide to do exactly what he'd said, and kill them like they'd already wanted to.

They reached a hand down into their pocket, feeling around for anything at all—and bizarrely, Taph found something that they must have forgotten about. Some sharp, stake shaped stone object—a subspace shard—from earlier, had they forgotten to put it away?

They shifted just slightly and the arm around their throat tightened, Taph flinched involuntarily, their heart was beating like a jackhammer, their stomach spun with a sick illness—it was fear, once again, gripping right up into their organs and twisting them all the wrong ways.

Suddenly, one of the men dropped his weapon, that third unnamed one, his shotgun hit the ground with a heavy thud and he raised his hands up above his head.

That one quiet sound rung through the air, something final about it, none of them spoke, they didn't even yell at him. It was strange, they'd never seen people be so afraid of someone before—and they'd known Doombringer for a while now, they weren't afraid of him, not anymore, and not often—but even before now they'd never been all that frightened by him.

“You know the policy, just surrender, man.” The man told his friends.

“You're a fuckin’ idiot.” The older man raised his voice.

“...Builderman says—”

“This ain't Builderman!”

Doombringer silenced them, turning the safety off on his pistol with a subtle click that somehow managed to deafen the whole room. His eyes glanced around calmly, his demeanor was easy, unnervingly smooth.

“He's right.” Doombringer quietly spoke.

“Like hell, I know exactly what game you're playing at.” The leader replied. “You got a muddy reputation, Doombringer…you’re nothin’ but a sleezy con artist of a cop and all of Robloxia damn well knows it—”

While they were arguing, Taph slid that subspace shard out of their pocket, they gripped it tight in their hand. They turned their head just slightly, that man was so close they could hear him breathing, fast and uneasy, he was nervous too.

They looked up at the platform, Doombringer had lowered his gun just slightly, his eyes were trained on Taph, watching them closely. They drifted down to the shard in their hand, then back up, and for a moment, he almost seemed a bit curious.

Then he nodded, very slowly, and very subtly—They almost missed it. They almost didn't do anything at all, because surely he wasn't saying what they thought he was saying. But he is, he certainly is, and he must be right, this is life or death, they understood.

Taph recalled back when he'd said they weren't strong—and he was right, they couldn't fight if they wanted to. Maybe that's their problem, they're weak and that's why they're so afraid. If they could be brave like him, they could make it out of this, and if the listened to him, they would. So there was nothing else they could do, but to follow his next order.

Taph moved their grip down to the base of the shard and eased over to the side—he didn't notice, they bent themself as far from him as possible and then they jabbed their hand back, shard in hand—and stabbed him directly in the abdomen.

The gun was dropped and he let out a sudden shout of pain, Taph instinctively ducked down to avoid being grabbed again. The moment they moved there came a sudden, loud, distinctive noise, they spun around to look, and in an instant, a bullet had found its way into the man's head.

In rapid succession, Doombringer took out all three of them, taking advantage of the momentary distraction of what Taph had done. Even if it was only for a second, a second was all he needed—he didn't react to a single shot, there were only three, clean headshots that killed them so fast they probably barely had time to even notice it was happening. They heard only one shout, one desperate cry of no, before they all dropped.

Taph leaned back against the concrete wall of the pit, they breathed in, and they didn't breathe out for a long time, the gunshot lingered in the air. Like the energy left behind from a subspace tripmine, inactive, but still there reminding you that it had gone off. That silence felt like it dragged on forever, and maybe it would never end, maybe they almost wished it wouldn't.

Silence should probably bring room to think, but Taph found their mind was completely blank, the sound echoed in their ears, and they turned to the side. Right there on the ground beside them laid a dead body, a neat bullet wound sat calmly right above his eyes and blood trailed slowly down into them. His eyes were completely vacant, he was gone, but Taph found it difficult to react.

They thought of that giddy smile on his face, just a moment ago, and the way he'd hurt them with so much ease, and yet still all they felt was empty.

Taph looked up at the platform, where the other two lay motionless as well—and they brought a hand up to their face, finding something sleek and wet splattered across their eyes. When they pulled their gloves away, there were steaks of red across their fingers.

Blood, it was that man's blood—oh god, they just killed someone.

No, Doombringer killed him, but Taph did it too, they started this—is this all their fault? For getting caught? Did they force him to have to do that? They couldn't take their eyes off those still corpses, as if they'd move, but Taph knew that they wouldn't.

Doombringer put his gun away at his belt, it was another quiet sound that made them flinch when they heard it. Taph pulled their knees up and looked down at their boots, their hand rested over their mouth, moving thoughtlessly along their jaw. Their fingers slipped again, that blood felt like acid over their skin, like it was going to sear itself into them and never leave.

They glanced at the dead man beside them again, and Taph didn't quite feel guilt, only an odd horrific acceptance. Just unease, and fear, and an inability to do anything but stare until it was too much. Finally, they crawled across the tracks and threw themself over to the adjacent wall of the platform—they didn't hesitate, they didn't ask for help, they climbed up onto the platform the same way they had earlier, hauling themself over until they made it.

When they did, they collapsed down onto the concrete for a moment, on their hands and knees, until their knees gave out and all that kept them up was their shaking arms. Taph glanced over at the dead man nearby, his grey hair painted crimson and a bullet hole in his head so wide that they could see some part of his brain.

A slow set of footsteps approached, loud hooves that only made them flinch again the closer they came. Taph didn't take their eyes off the body—and beneath his still, motionless face, they saw a vast pool of blood spilling out onto the concrete.

They looked up at Doombringer, their eyes wide, and even though it was him they still flinched again when he came closer, reeling back and bowing their head fearfully. They shut their eyes, and Doombringer stood there as still as a statue, watching and waiting. Taph felt their hands shake, folded into fists to hide the blood in their palms, their gloves felt tight and suffocating, everything felt suffocating.

Doombringer stepped forward again, and Taph looked up at him, their eyes darted around, nerves alight and all their senses alert. Or maybe their nerves were all dead already—all things considered, they don't feel so good about anything right now.

He leaned down and reached a hand toward them, his sharp claws like daggers in the moonlight—and the dark mass of his star scattered body stood like an ominous warning. Taph didn't reach back for a while, they just stared at him, their wings trembling and their eyes looking around for more danger.

Finally, their hand came up, hesitant and shaky as they reached back for him. He finished the long journey for them and he grabbed their wrist and hauled them back up onto their feet. Taph stumbled pitifully, but he held their arm and eventually they found the strength to keep themself up on their own. Their feet found stability and they glanced down again, their eyes lingered on the dead body just a few inches away. His blank eyes stared back, and Taph didn't know what to think of what they saw—they didn't know what to think at all, right now.

Doombringer gripped their shoulder and they quickly turned to him, their eyes blinked nervously, one time, and they looked up at him with so much uncertainty that it scared them. It all felt so quiet, for a moment.

His eyes narrowed as he watched, his hand came up under their chin and he tilted their head back. Then he prodded at their eye with his thumb, Taph was sure it was bruised, because it hurt when he put pressure on it.

“You're gonna have a black eye.” He spoke, his thumb smoothed over their bruised skin.

Taph squinted at him, and they hadn't noticed that their vision was impaired, but now that it was quiet, they realized that things were a bit blurry on one side. All the stars around his neck were bleeding out like car lights in the dark.

“Where's your rig?” Doombringer asked.

Taph stared up at him, their eyes tense and unfocused—then they pointed back toward the pit. Doombringer left their side to retrieve it, they didn't move, they just stood and waited.

When he came back he didn't look at them, he leaned down and picked up their satchel right out of a dead man's hands, like it didn't matter. Taph prodded at their bruised eye, the subtle pain beneath their skin, for a moment, reminded them where they were. They looked over at Doombringer hesitantly, and suddenly he paused, his eyes met theirs once again.

Taph breathed in, and signed. ‘Why?'

Taph looked up at him again, they couldn't help feeling scared when they saw him. Some carnal, invasive instinct had them flinching every time he moved, but everything was making them shake right now, even the sound of the wind outside.

“They would have killed you.” Doombringer told them. “I stopped them.”

'I didn't want to hurt anyone.' They signed. 

Taph tilted their head at him, and they couldn't think up anything to say, this all felt sort of unreal. Three people just died, what are they supposed to think? Even when it was over they couldn't stop thinking they'd done something awful, and they helped kill that man, they stabbed someone. Truly, what can they even think?

“Would you have rather died?” He asked.

They shook their head, looking away again.

“Then they deserved it.” Doombringer spoke. “Some people do.”

They remembered when he'd said that before, they'd just never really had something to relate it back to. Now it felt clear as day, bright and obvious with some way to understand it—is he right? That some people really have to die, that there's no other way?

Anyone who tries to hurt them, they deserve to die, was that what he meant? Taph looked up at him, and they knew he could read their hesitation clear as day, but they didn't want to disappoint him, even now. He looked down on them, his eyes were harsh, but in some ways that look was familiar enough to feel right.

“You understand.” He said.

‘I don't know.’ They signed, and that was the honest truth.

“You understand, Taph.” He said. “...Theres only two ways down this road, and you and I are on the same one.”

Taph looked up at him, his eyes stayed pinned on them and they hardly moved. They glanced over at the bodies for a moment, but all the blood made them nervous so they looked to Doombringer instead.

He murmured. “So understand... these are the people that deserve it.”

He must be right, Taph found it difficult to truly say that he wasn't. They didn't want to end up in a ditch, or under a bridge, or somewhere alone and terrifying—afraid, and confused, and hurt, and with no way out. If it were them, if they'd had to face the brunt of those protests, would that have happened? Would it have happened now if Doombringer didn't save them now? They knew it was true, without him they'd be dead, or worse.

Doombringer spoke again. “...You wanted to be good enough for Headquarters?”

Taph watched him, their eyes wary and unfocused, still a bit blurry as they observed his face. But he never showed much of anything, and they glanced at their boots again, uncertain of anything right now.

“Taph...This is how it works.” He said, and their eyes moved right back to him, too stunned to use their hands again. “...So tell me you're good enough.”

They didn't reply, they heard his hooves scuff against the concrete, and he took a moment to look around the area. Then he turned entirely, and he stepped away—Taph wasn't sure what he was doing, where he was going, what he was thinking—but the sight of him turning away so suddenly, his back turned and his footsteps growing further—it made their heart jump, the thought of him leaving, especially now.

Taph hurried forward, they reached for his arm first but wound up grabbing the back of his cloak and they were too flighty to get a good grip, so they went for his arm after, and that time he noticed. Doombringer turned to face them, his eyes narrowed with familiar hostility.

‘I can handle it.’ Taph signed, staring at him desperately. ‘I can handle it. I promise.’

Their eyes were wide, pleading and watching like a dog left out in the rain, and Doombringer's gaze in return was cold, but focused. That tense look eased, it was never welcoming for even a moment, but it was calm enough that Taph felt their breathe even out just a bit.

Taph held onto him by the front of his cloak, they didn't take their eyes off him once, and Doombringer snaked one arm around their middle, pulling them in against his side. 

“...I know.” He murmured.

Taph wanted to believe that meant he had faith in them, to not be soft and foolish like he’d said. To be stronger than they are, and to understand all the strange things he seems to understand. That maybe if he believes in them, then they truly are good enough—or at least good enough for Headquarters…good enough for an admin, and good enough to be his friend.

They breathed out finally and released the air they'd held captive, they pressed their head to his chest and he reached his hand up, his claws combed throigh their hair subtly, it was unusually gentle coming from him. Taph stared out at the gates that lead outside. All they could do was lean forward and tighten their grip, and pray to God he'd believe them.

The C-4 didn't detonate with as much energy as expected, there was an explosion, certainly, but Taph didn't get all that excited about it, not like they usually did. Doombringer told them not to worry about cleaning up the mess down in the train station, so Taph didn't worry about it. They stood atop the hill above and listened to the explosion destroy all of the evidence. The narcotics, the train cars, the guns, and maybe even the rest of it too.

With it, they almost felt like they could pretend it didn't happen, and maybe they already were pretending. Because when Doombringer looked at them after the blast, and told them that they did their best, Taph felt oddly pleased with themself again. Like this was just any other demolition assignment, and nothing else had happened, and all that mattered again was impressing him.

He told them that they weren't done for the night yet, and admittedly Taph got an awful sinking dread in their gut when they heard those words. They realized, for the first time ever, that they didn't want to go with him this time. But they never argued, not anymore.

He used his admin panel as a warp like he often did when he left the demolition sites, Taph walked slowly alongside him—admittedly, still flinching at most sounds they heard in the woods. But where they'd arrived wasn't quite in the forest, it was a dense parking lot, and at the end of it was a concrete overhang and a railing. It was viewpoint, Taph realized, which overlooked the city of central Robloxia.

There were no cars parked nearby, Doombringer walked confidently and Taph fought to keep up, their eye still a bit blurry and their legs a little weak. Eventually he stopped at the end, right at the railing, and he looked over at Taph as they settled beside him.

There before them must be a million different lights, an assortment of colors, yellow, pink, and purple—large glowing signs atop of roofs and blinking beacons on the highest towers. Every individual light, were all windows opening up to apartments and workspaces that peeked into a million different lives taking place down there.

There was a dull colorful fog in the backdrop that choked out the stars near the city skyline, so that as it faded, they reappeared higher up. From where Taph stood, in the darkness of the trees and this closed down vantage point, they were bright and vibrant, sparkling in the thousands. They glanced at Doombringer, and caught his own spiraling night sky across his bicep, the rare bit of him that wasn't covered by armor.

It was like the entire world condensed into one mans soul, night started to feel like the only time that matter, they were always waiting for sunset. Because it's the only time he ever comes to see them outside of an experience, it was always night, when he felt the closest. As if he were waiting for the perfect time to show himself, when the world looked just like him.

In Taph's eyes, the world always looked like him.

‘What is this?’ Taph asked.

“... a lookout.” Doombringer answered. “It's not open until summer.”

So no one will come up here or interrupt them—they could be alone. Taph knew that was what he wanted, and maybe for a while, they felt bad knowing he didn't want to be seen with them. But they've since come to understand his reasons, and he was right. They didn't need anyone to know, not anymore, they just needed this.

Taph found that the city lights didn't make them feel as nervous, even when their mind fell back to the past hour, they just looked at the lights and willed themself to forget it.

They thought of what happened with the demolition workers under Headquarters, and they couldn't understand how anyone had let that happen. Surely they could have done something to protect them, they could have done something to stop the protests before they died.

And what Doombringer did…if someone had caught those people who killed the demolition workers, if they'd have shut down the department earlier, if they'd have arrested or stopped those people before they could do it—would they still be alive? Was it right for him to kill them, if it stopped them breaking the law or hurting people—if it stopped them from hurting Taph?

They couldn't reason that it would've been better if he let those men kill them, there's not a single reason they could think up, that would make them consider their own death worth it. Taph didn't want to die, certainly not like that, and certainly not now.

They thought of what could've happened if he didn't show up in time, what they may have done, beyond just killing them. And it made their skin crawl, it brought a frigid terror up their spine that made their wings shake and their feathers puff out.

Taph glanced at Doombringer, there was a genuine interest in his eyes as he watched the vast city below them. He spoke about Robloxia a lot, sometimes, he said it was rotten, he said it had fallen apart—yet he never stopped speaking about it, like it meant something more to him. He spoke about Robloxia more than he spoke about Headquarters, most days.

Taph didn't find anything very special about the skyline, they've lived around central Robloxia for a long time and it had always felt the same, just a place to be, nothing important. But they didn't tell him that, they kept their hands on the railing.

“It matters.” Doombringer spoke.

‘What?’ Taph signed.

He paused, his eyes narrowed, but it wasn't a frustrated sort of tension, it was relaxed and thoughtful. “Robloxia. All of this, that's what it's worth.”

Taph watched him, they couldn't help feeling uneasy as they looked into his eyes, thinking back once again to the usual tension they heard in his voice. They were never quite sure when they could settle down when they were with him.

“It's never easy.” He spoke. “...But you can't always take the easy path, we don't get to look past their mistakes.”

We? Did he mean the admins, or was he talking about them?

Taph gripped the railing tightly, when they raised their hand off it, they still saw the dark stain of dried blood on the fingers of their gloves. They glanced back at Doombringer, and they understood, why he'd come up here—why he wanted to, after what had just happened.

Some people deserve bad things, some bad things have to happen. But there was still good in the world—and Builderman, he was a smart person, they were sure he was right for Robloxia even if he may have made mistakes. They couldn't truly be mistakes, for someone like him, only a slip-up. The world was not doomed, it couldn't be completely rotten all the way down—maybe they could prove that if they helped him.

Something buzzed on his belt, breaking the silence for a moment. Doombringer moved his hand down to it, it was shaped a bit like a hand-held radio, and probably was something like that. It always opened up the admin panel when he hit the button at the top of it, Taph had seen developers use something similar, but theirs were a bit more simple.

Doombringer wrapped his hand around the radio with his thumb against the button, he teased at it for a moment, then he glanced at Taph, for a moment his eyes were soft. He took his hand off his belt—it buzzed again—he didn't answer it.

Taph tilted their head at him, and he scoffed.

“...I’m out past my bedtime.” He said. “Don't tell anyone.”

They let out a short breathy laugh, not quite audible, but their shoulders moved up. Doombringer smirked and turned back toward the lights, his head tilted to the side for a moment. He was quiet again as he watched the city.

Taph placed their hand down on his, tight against the railing. He looked down at them, the distant cities reflection settled neatly on the side of his bucket helmet, his gaze drifted over to the bruises beneath their eye, and they caught that same tense look.

“...That's a shame.” He muttered, his thumb prodded at it gently.

‘Its okay.’ Taph signed. ‘'Doesn't hurt.'

Taph watched him, his eyes stayed focused on them as well, they smiled at him, their eyes squinting, the movement made their vision blurry again. For a moment, they couldn't make out the shape of him too well, but he was close enough that they could almost hear him breathing. In the dead, eerie silence, that sound was almost comforting.

'You're right.’ Taph assured him.

“...Am I?” He asked.

‘You're always right.’ They replied.

Doombringer didn't reply, he turned back to the lights with that same tense look in his eyes. Whatever he was thinking, it was difficult to read, so Taph didn't try, they just hoped he'd know they were being honest.

They understood, now, how difficult it was without him, and after all of this they didn't want to disappoint him ever again, they could handle whatever he threw at them next. He's right, they're walking on the same road, they just have to make sure they can keep up.