A loud groan could be heard from the archer of Ainz Ooal Gown from a mile away, pained sighs came forth from him as well. His feathers wrestling with displeasure and instant regret. He was not having a good day that day.

"Hah..." Peroroncino leaned his head back into his velvet chair made from the finest of fabrics, a still pained expression over his beaked face. "What the hell is happening around this place anymore?"

Peroroncino certainly didn't know, with his literal creation being brought to life through some fancy-pants transportation sequence. Momonga wasn't much help either.

"At least I don't have nothing in this crazy world of wide space." The archer muttered, a hand over his face.