"As much as the world [i]might[/i] need a golden-garbed [i]Buffoon[/i] mucking about," A familiar voice echoed from down one of the many directions spreading out from the intersection that Oz and Jenso paused at, "I don't think anyone has much of a choice on the matter of his [i]living,[/i] I'm afraid."

	A tall humanoid golem stomped into view, almost as if he faded out of the gears that spun at the edge of the pathways. He solidified immediately, standing at least 11 feet tall with his towering presence. 

	"Ah- Except for[b] me[/b], I suppose." he said, raising his right hand in a casual gesture, and revealing a golden sphere embedded in its palm.

	The newcomer was cloaked in a subtle mist that sparkled, as if it were laced with floating crystal shards, too small to dignify as anything more than specks of light. His eyes were green, and whirled like small galaxies, shining a bright white at their center. He had no facial signification other than a chiseled chin, with no mouth or nose, and several armor-like joints that were connected by a thick miasma, parting each section of his body by about 1 inch. Was this one of the defensive golems left behind after the global assault? 

	No, it couldn't be. He was far too well spoken. Too malicious. He was unlike the mindless drones Jenso had encountered earlier. The figure's eyes didn't blink, but his voice had a familiar feel to it. Jenso had heard it before.