Torr looked long and hard at the strange tubey-eye-thing that descended from the hatchery’s ceiling. The little Ig had never seen such a thing before, obviously, but he somehow instinctively knew that this [i]thing[/i] was Hivemind. The sight of his all powerful creator did not fill the creature with wonderment or awe, but did cause him to cock his head quizzically to the side as he took in the being that was quite unlike him. Hivemind didn’t seem to have a set of punchers, so Torr could not be certain what its purpose was in this world. The soft bewilderment on his expression did not change, even as he and the other Ig’s were sucked up and consequently dumped into a spacious white room, with the fiery Ig in question landing comfortably on his back. Indeed, the transition did little to disturb him as he was consumed by one important question:

[i]'[color=red]To punch or not to punch?[/color]'[/i]

So engrossed in his not-so-deep introspection, Torr didn’t even notice his hatchmates getting up or even what they were talking about. But it was quite a problematic question for the Ig, as on one hand the tubey being was responsible for granting Torr the opportunity to punch many things, but on the other hand it also seemed like an existence that would be very satisfying to punch. Both sides put up a tremendous argument in Torr’s mind, but in the end the fiery Ig decided that his debt to his creator outweighed the immense satisfaction he would likely get out of punching it. The brutal realization caused an all too depressed sigh to escape Torr’s lips, but there was little use dwelling on what could have been. So with newfound determination, he finally stood up and took a better look at his surroundings.

The only things worth noting in the room that was far too white where his hatmates and a set of big, colorful doors. And from the way his pink hatchmate confidently strode through one of them, the purpose behind the doors became clear even to Torr. He glanced at the remaining Ig’s in the room, sizing them up by just how punchable they seemed. The brown one hardly looked like he would be worth the effort, as it appeared a stiff breeze could knock him over. And while the gold one was quite tall, his flabby figure did not look like it would put up much of a fight. That left the rather short one, but even though he certainly looked like he wouldn’t go down quietly, Torr still found him lacking in the punchability department. Another dejected sigh left him as he lost interest in his hatchmates and turned his attention to the strange doors instead.

Naturally, when presented with a series of options, Torr’s first priority was to determine how much of a challenge each one seemed to offer. The words above each door did little to sway his interest one way or the other, but the swords that were above the doors certainly did, as they seemed to promise him a good fight. Of those, the flabby golden one managed to trip and fall into the one that was an odd mishmash of colors. Not to be outdone by such a sorry creature, Torr shot to his feet and charged towards the doors with a tiny roar, one fist raised in the air like he was leading a band of misfits to battle. 

In the end, he wasn’t particularly picky about what door he would enter, as whatever was on the other side would simply get punched all the same. So with a depressing lack of caution or thought, Torr found himself running into the yellow light of [color=fad88e]The Sentinel’s Vigil[/color].