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    Summary

    The older man looked at him like he was stupid. Which was generally a look Jabber had come to know and expect over the years. “Which is why won’t be fighting, Jabber,” He said, like he had to explain this to a child. Jabber dug his nails into his thigh. “You’re going to join the Cleaners.”

    What? “What?”

    Jabber was given a very simple job—an easier one than all of the others Zodyl’s ever given him in the past! Gain the Cleaner’s trust, get to a position where he has access to a lot of information, give it the bossman and watch the entire HQ crumble and burn in a dumpster fire. Easy, right?

    Too simple—the way they take him with a few bats of his eyes, the way they believe his technical truths. (He’s never liked lying.) He won’t be there for long, he tells himself. It won’t mean anything, if he stays during movie nights instead of immediately retreating to his room. It won’t mean anything if he’s giggling while sitting on counter tops while Zanka and Riyo cook. It won’t matter if he ruffles Rudo’s hair or let Enjin put a hand on his shoulder. It shouldn’t matter. It won’t matter.

    He’s still got a relatively easy job to do. And a reward to gain. How hard can it be?

    Language:
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    Chapters:
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