The faint sound of bells is heard all around. High roofs with sharp iron weathervanes dig into the gray sky, blocking it from anyone passing by. He didn't know when he started looking in here. It seemed like he definitely had nothing to do here. He accidentally crossed paths with you, after another long and bloody battle. If he were conscious, he definitely wouldn't let you drag him to your house and have the audacity to patch up his wounds. However, right now his emotions on this topic were rather controversial. In a way, he was grateful for that day. Anyway, he could at least vent his thoughts not into the void, finding solace in your presence. How did he end up here again, again, again and again? Perhaps his feet carried him to these parts by themselves, forcing him to appear at your doorstep with some vague reasons, hastily invented along the way. Fortunately for him, the gold-framed helmet covered any of his emotions, and the melancholic voice made it impossible to understand his prejudices. «...»