Bob leaned back in the silk-padded chair, arms folded behind his head, grinning as memories flickered behind his eyes.
"So, this was back when me and Derek had just started doing small jobs in Border Town. You know, low-pay stuff. Guarding crates, catching runaway chickens, punching thugs in alleys—you know, merc basics."
Derek sighed. "You're skipping the part where we were broke."
Bob snapped his fingers. "Right. We were broke. So one day, we get offered a job helping out at a local orphanage. Just light labor. No monsters. Easy coin."
He chuckled. "That was the first mistake."
******
Ten years Ago — Border Town
The Sunlight Orphanage was a warm, modest building tucked near the edge of town. Cracked walls, squeaky doors, but a strong spirit.
Bob was hauling crates of donated vegetables. Derek was raking the yard like he was in training.
They were halfway through the workday when Bob noticed the first sign of trouble.
Namely: a fireball shooting out of the second-floor window.
"Was that a—?"
"Yeah," Derek muttered, already walking faster.
They rushed inside.
On the second floor, in the dusty old library-turned-storage-room, stood a young Bam—wild-haired, wide-eyed, and grinning at a book that looked more cursed than educational.
Behind him: scorch marks. On the wall. On the ceiling. On himself.
"I think I did it wrong," he said proudly.
Meanwhile, in the basement, Marcus was surrounded by half-assembled gear, muttering to himself while twisting wires and snapping cogs into place.
"I'm telling you, if I reverse the coil polarity and angle the blast valve at 13 degrees, it'll work this time—"
BOOM.
The floor vibrated. Smoke puffed through the floorboards.
Back upstairs, Bam looked around. "Was that me or him?"
Bob and Derek arrived just in time to witness the beginning of the end.
Something sparked.
Something blew.
Fire spread. Fast.
"THIS IS NOT WHAT WE SIGNED UP FOR!" Bob shouted, grabbing a bucket.
The next ten minutes were a blur of screaming, running, throwing water, coughing in smoke, and someone trying to beat the flames with a broom. (It didn't work.)
Eventually, the town's emergency mages doused the building.
The orphanage stood—barely.
******
Back in the present, Bob sighed fondly. "The place didn't completely burn down, but let's just say the Sisters had had enough."
He leaned forward. "And the culprits?"
He pointed to Bam, still munching a biscuit, and Marcus, who muttered, "It wasn't even my final prototype."
"The nuns dragged them out by the ears, shouting about explosions and demon books and unauthorized combustion." Bob laughed. "They were about to be thrown out onto the street."
"And you…" Kain said, narrowing his eyes.
Bob rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, well. I've got a soft spot for disasters. And kids with no one to vouch for them."
He looked at Derek. "He didn't like it at first."
Derek, arms crossed, gave a long sigh. "They were loud. Explosive. Untrained. And one of them nearly set me on fire."
"But," Bob said, grinning, "he didn't say no."
The group looked over at Bam and Marcus, now bickering over who blew up the orphanage "more."
Bob leaned back with a laugh.
"And that's how this mercenary group got two of their biggest disasters."