Noi wasnβt entirely sure why his optical receivers were disabled. One moment he was looking at the Hylian and now it was utter darkness. His head jerked upwards. Again it was pulled up for a brief moment. Noi was confused, to say the least. Was his entire sensory array malfunctioning? He could not identify the source. At most he had some thermal readings from behind him. Out of ideas Noi attempted to open and remove his helm but found his arm unable to reach. Something had surrounded his head. It was soft and made a bizarre sound when he prodded it.
He dug his metal fingers into it and wrenched it off. Noi found he had grabbed one of the floating hands by the pinky. It flailed trying to break free, but it didnβt have the strength to. While it seemed normal for them to carry off a person they were never prepared for something like Noi. It was only barely able to scratch at Noiβs chest plate by fully extending its fingers, but even then the metal coat wasnβt damaged. Noi tightened his grip until there was an audible crack. The hand spazzed even more desperate to get free.
βThis little digit went to the bazaar.βNoi grabbed another finger with his open hand and broke it.
βThis little digit stayed home.βThen the next,
βThis little digit had fresh oil.βAnd the third,
βThis little digit had none.β He grabbed the thumb and with a brutal force tore it from the hand,
βThis little digit went we-we-we all the way home.βThe hand writhed and died quickly after that. Even in the heat of battle, his memories were both lucid and fading. He had heard the rhyme back in the workshops. When new brothers were built and their hands made. Why did they come and go so frivolously?
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