Nanoha has stumbled upon Dustin’s metropolis fortress in the corner of the room. Judging from the various items that he has horded back there, his answer to her question should be obvious.

…But she wasn’t going away. So the little boy, probably no more than seven or eight years old, turns to face her with an emotionless glare behind giant chemical goggles that nearly cover his entire face. Or rather, what’s left that isn’t shrouded by his massive mop of dark brown hair.

“Yes. Now go away,” Dustin pouts ill-temperedly.