“Woah, look at that!” I say in excitement as I point towards the glass tube that runs along the ceiling above our heads. The stranger says nothing and doesn’t look at what I have pointed out, opting to simply keep on walking forward with his pole-axe dragging behind him. I tilt my head, looking at him as he walks away. “You’re too obsessed with work, friend. You’re going to miss out on all of the cool things in the dungeon if you live your life like that!”

The stranger still says nothing and I sigh, turning back to look up at the multiple glass tubes that run along the stone ceiling. There are four that I see. One is filled with a greenish-yellow liquid. One with a frothy black-water. One with a thick, flowing red and the last one with a clear blue-water. The four humors flow through the piping, heading down the same way that we are going. Excited to see where it all leads, I run after the stranger and continue gazing up at the pipes. “So what’s your name?” I ask him.

“Shut up.”

“That’s a weird name.”

The stranger says nothing else, simply continuing to walk forward as always.

“So, hollow-armor, huh?” I ask. “I bet that’s nice. No annoying bones to get in the way.” I tap against my skull, making my point. The stranger doesn’t respond. I frown, looking around awkwardly. Some people are just so hard to talk to. We round the corner, following the glass tubing as we enter into what I assume is the boss arena. Or, well, what was the boss arena? There’s only a giant crater here now where something massive once stood. Metal and glass pipework runs in all directions, all converging into a broken, scorched and jumbled mess in the center of the room. Liquids of all color dribble down out of their broken pipes, pooling down together in the hole below.

Peering over the ledge curiously, I look down into it. The resulting mixture of green, blue, red, black is nothing but a gooey mess. Mud and bile and slime all come together in the hole to make a stinking, fetid amalgamation with no real purpose or use. It’s just gross.

Man, I really wish the hero-party didn’t destroy this place. I really want to know what all the black-water and green-water and all those other waters were used for. I’m sorry they broke your dungeon, dungeon-master. I know you worked very hard on it. I promise that I’ll protect it better next time! I wonder if the stranger will protect it with me?

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Can you maybe… I press my fingers together, staring up at the ceiling as I wonder if the dungeon-master is watching me. Can you maybe make me a hollow-armor next time? Maybe if I spawn with the stranger, he won’t be so grumpy around myself. Maybe I can spawn in and we can be friends right from the start. I’d really like that, dungeon-master. Please?

I sigh. Oh well, it’s not like the dungeon-master can hear me. Turning, I once again catch up to the stranger and run after him. He has a funny way of walking, you know? His body is all gnarly and busted up and janky. It’s like he’s walking on legs that were broken and didn’t heal right, as if every step is painful and troublesome.

I feel something touch my armor, something wet. Looking to my shoulder, I watch as a droplet of colored water runs down my metal body, having fallen from above from one of the broken pipes. I watch as the multi-colored drips continue to dribble down all around myself like a soft, prismatic rain. A droplet strikes my skull with a loud, clearly audible thud and it proceeds to run down my cheek, until it pearls on the edge of my jaw.

What odd water. I wonder what’s in it? Why is it that color? I tilt my head, staring at the pipes. There are so many mysteries in the dungeon and I feel like I don’t understand any of them. But then again, maybe it isn’t my place to understand them. I’m just a trash-mob. I should focus on that, right? Yeah, right. If the dungeon-master wanted me to understand, he would have given me a body and a mind capable of doing so.

Gripping the lance tightly, I run after my new friend and catch up again. It’s nice to have someone to walk with. I know it sounds weird, since he’s not talking to me or anything. But at least I’m not alone anymore, you know? Even if he’s mean to me. It’s nice to have somebody around.

Together, in a nigh-total silence that is only broken by the shuffling of our heavy boots, we proceed up to the next floor, leaving the destroyed glass-work complex behind us together with any secrets that it might have entailed. They are simply not for me to know, guy. That means you don’t get to know either. Sorry. It is what it is.

I wonder why he hates the hero-party so much? He seems really angry. Impressively angry. Man, I wish I could get that angry. Imagine how much work I could get done if I was so driven and motivated. Literal mountains of it. Nothing could stop me if I had that kind of radiating, buzzing energy in my core. That kind of drive. That kind of conviction and steely gaze filled with unbridled determination. A real hero. Ah, I want to be like you, stranger.

Nodding to myself, I resolve to do my best to learn from him, as long as I get to spend time with him. Even if we can’t talk while we walk, I can still watch him. I can still watch him and see and learn his secrets.

I want to know your secrets, stranger. Stranger. Sssssstranger, I hiss, flicking my tongue as I lean forward behind him, trying to press the tip of it against the back of his head to smell him, to taste him.

I quickly pull back, standing up straight and quickly look into the air as the stranger turns around, shooting me a suspicious glance. I look back down at him with an innocent, confused expression. “What’s up?”

The man gives me no clear response, instead clutching his head with his free hand as he turns around and keeps walking up the stairs, mumbling something I can’t quite make out. Something about Miika or eyes or whatever. It’s not really clear.