Since he worked with humans, he kept a human schedule. That meant activity during the day and sleep at night. It was a rather pointless schedule for a man who didn’t really sleep. It was one reason that he preferred to be on an op, because during an op working around the clock wasn’t seen as odd.

Today would be a talky day. He hated that sort of thing. He hated talking. He hated the squishy, pathetic, government-appointed flesh bag overseers wasting his time arguing about regulations and picking apart the definition of words. Franks hated Washington. Of every human city, and he’d been to most of them, it was the worst. He’d rather have been in the slums of Mexico City strangling chupacabras with his bare hands. This city had been named after a true warrior, and Franks knew General Washington would be enraged if he could see the quality of human that dwelled here now. The general would probably run a few of them through with his sword.

Basically, Franks really hated bureaucrats.

At exactly four Franks got off the floor. Since he could see in the dark he didn’t bother turning on any lights. He had grown tired of being stared at in the MCB’s gym, so Franks had rented a basement apartment specifically so he could have a comprehensive weight set and not have it fall through the floor. He worked out for exactly forty-five minutes. One of his arms had taken a hit from the dragon in Las Vegas, so he kept his bench press to a mere seven hundred pounds so as to not stress it until the Elixir had time to properly re-form that bone.

There was no ornamentation anywhere in Franks’ apartment. The walls were still painted the same builder beige as when he’d moved in. There were no pictures, no mementos, and barely any furniture. Franks showered in his undecorated bathroom and then shoveled high protein food into his face in his undecorated kitchen. Pick any cabinet and the cans inside were in neat, orderly rows. Not a single can of peas mingled with the beans, because that would be unforgivable chaos.

Franks turned on the closet light as he got dressed. His night vision didn’t allow for much color differentiation. Not that it mattered since his closet was divided between nearly identical black suits, white shirts, and tactical gear. He did have a lot of ties, but that was because a few of his human coworkers always felt compelled to include him on their gift-giving holidays, and ties were the only thing that made sense. Despite having dozens of ties, he always wore a cheap black clip on.