The Sixth Archive
The black, goopy mass that was Gloppy finally started to stir. Thoughts were slow for Gloppy. The chair gloppy was draped on snapped as Gloppy drew himself together. He lumbered over towards where the friend had gone. Feeling, Gloppy used to have feeling. Who was he?
A voice came from behind, an emotionless one. The friend. "You, Gloppy." It was the angry scholar person, the friend.
"Yes, friend?" asked Gloppy slowly, words were hard.
"Can you stay at the entrance? Someone might be coming... I can feel it. Could you tell me when they arrive?" The friend pushed the weird glass pieces up his nose, moving a bit of hair out of his face.
Gloppy processed the words, "Gloppy do as friend asks." Gloppy turned, walking towards the entrance to the archive. He didn't question what the friend asked. But... something was odd about that one. In a previous life, Gloppy might have been interested to learn more, but now... Gloppy was only a fragment of that person. A fragment with only one thing left. A hatred for the people who'd done this to him.
The Worldseers.