Swamped

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In a sterile white room Match sat alone in the corner. She could tell by the smell that this was a laboratory. Normally she would be worried that she was going to be tortured here, but she trusted Pencil, and any scientists she chose to hire. 

A slot in the wall opened up and spilled a pen and paper on the ground. Finally, a way to communicate. Match walked up to the pen and paper and stuffed both into her mouth. 
This wasn't going to be easy was it? The Queen didn't want her to communicate with anyone who wasn't already infected, and Match wasn't going to infect Pencil anytime soon.

The slot in the wall spat out a typewriter. Match sighed. This one was going to take a while.

She walked up to it, took a letter key off, and placed it in her mouth. A wall in the room suddenly became a window. Behind it was Pencil and a small quadcopter drone, called Droney. Droney was the head scientist at Haha Land, and although he mostly worked in mechanical engineering and architecture, he was thousands of years old and was qualified for any scientific endeavor. His propellers were on his back, so when he flew his limbs dangled as if he was on all fours. 

"Match! Don't eat the typewriter, write with it!" Pencil shouted into a mic from her side of the glass.
"Maybe she's forgotten what a typewriter is," Droney said. He had a clipboard out and was writing down notes. The notes were organized by a Stimulus square, a Behavior square, and a Hypothesis square. 

He wrote on the hypothesis square 'Forgotten what a typewriter is'. 

Match thought the situation was pretty funny. Pencil wasn't exactly a scientist, and eating an entire typewriter was hard.

"Pencil, maybe we're doing the wrong type of experiment on Match. We already know her behavior is odd. Maybe we should be trying to figure out the reason she's acting odd," Droney said. He walked away from Match's sight and then returned with a little remote looking thing that had an antenna.

It had the Immortal logo on it, one of the companies that made recovery centers, "Let's start with your investigation. Match's soul signal has been extremely low all the while you were investigating. This usually means there's a problem with the center, but you've already been over that. There is nothing wrong with the recovery centers, there is something wrong with Match. I suspect there is something blocking her soul from collection, or there might be something wrong with Match's soul itself," Droney explained. 

Match listened in dismay. If there was something wrong with her soul then there wasn't much anybody could do about it. If souls were damaged, the outcome was forever. Match couldn't even escape her soul's damage in death, or in her next life. How did this happen?

The creep that gave her the enchanted axe. Whoever they were, they were behind all this. They shot lightning at her, but where did the lightning come from? Well, lightning came from the sky didn't it. Aliens?

Perhaps there was a mystery still being solved after all. 

"Well what do you expect us to do?" Pencil asked Droney seriously.
"I would suggest invasive surgery. Unlike the others, Match has a head made of a mysterious substance. Taking a closer look might clear up some of our questions. We can figure out what might be causing her to act this way," Droney said. 

"That does sound like a good idea, but invasive surgery is risky with Match. She's a delicate object and her soul signal is low. If she dies she might not come back," Pencil said.
"Hmm. I suppose we can perform the surgery on the bread cube then," Droney said. 
"Or maybe you can look at that glass jar. They're literally see through," Pencil said. 

Match picked up what remained of the typewriter and slammed it on the floor in a giant clang. Pencil and Droney looked to the mess. Turns out she wasn't going to eat the whole thing, just needed to destroy it. 

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