The following morning, Strax sat at a table in Frieren's laboratory, staring at the Gauntlet of Darkness with a thoroughly unenthusiastic expression.
He'd managed to sleep reasonably well, although he'd discovered that having a metal gauntlet permanently attached to his arm wasn't exactly the most comfortable arrangement for sleeping. The problem wasn't its weight, since the artifact seemed to weigh practically nothing. The problem was waking up in the middle of the night and realizing, a second beforehand, that he was about to rub his face with fingers covered in metal plates.
"I really need to solve this," Strax muttered, examining the golden inscriptions.
Frieren, sitting across the table, was organizing several analytical crystals.
"That's exactly what you said yesterday, darling," she replied, finishing her preparations.
"And the day before."
"That too."
"And I'll probably keep saying it until this damn thing comes off."
Frieren looked up.
