My metal mouth dropped open. I gaped at the laughing man beneath me.

“Got you?” I asked. “Got you?!”

This only served to make the man cackle even more madly. Victory shone in his eyes at the triumph of making me speak. I closed my eyes and would’ve taken a deep breath to calm down, but… breathing wasn’t a strong suit of my new body.

The door of the tower cracked open, and the hatless Abraham Alden Atkins peered out. The artificer’s laughter died immediately, and he coughed, clearing his throat. His hands brushed off his cloak, and he turned back to the carriage. All I could hear as he leaned into it were the sounds of various objects smashing together: glass, metal… stone, maybe?

The “Wizard” calmly walked out of the tower, eyeing Michaelangelo and myself, before bending over to retrieve his hat, and swiftly returning through the door he’d come from.

Once the door had slammed closed, the artificer’s head popped up. He walked back over to me, carrying a… was that a hose? A tube flapped out onto the ground as Michaelangelo pulled the nozzle toward me.

“I’ll clean you now,” he said abruptly, twisting the nozzle and sending a bright green liquid flowing over my legs. “OF COURSE,” he yelled over the crashing fluid. “I CAN’T TAKE OFF THE PATINA THAT HAS FORMED OVER YOUR ARMOR. IT’S PROTECTIVE. MUCH LIKE--” His voice was inaudible as he cranked the force of the fluid up more, moving it up my body.

This thing is like an ancient fire hose!

White seagull excrement washed off me, as did their nests, and the mud I’d gathered on the trip to the tower. Leaves that had been locked in parts of my armor, which I hadn’t even noticed, disintegrated under fire from the hose.

For good measure, the artificer hit my face too, before walking around the back of me and repeating the process. I heard the hose sputter out just as he finished on that side, and the tank that must’ve been in the carriage had probably emptied.

He stored the tool back in the carriage, dusted off his hands, and grinned sideways at me as he leaned back in.

“What’s say you and I start seeing eye-to-eye?”

The next contraption to be removed from the back of the carriage was a small ladder. It reached up to my knee, so I guess it wasn’t actually that small. It was supported by a single rod connected to the steps by a chain so it wouldn’t swing too far away. It seemed a rather poor design, to me.

As Michaelangelo climbed up the ladder, however, he tapped one of the sides with a crystal-tipped finger. Once he’d reached the top, the ladder began to grow in size, raising him up like an elevator toward my face.

He leaned into me, and the ladder swung him closer. I heard a cranking sound, then steam leaked from my chest as it opened again. The grinding sound I’d heard the first time wasn’t as prominent, so the artificer must’ve done something for that. I heard a few clanks as he muttered to himself from inside me and when I looked down, I could see him leaning far into an opening in the center of my chest, right about where my solar plexus would be.

“How did you do that?” I creaked out in my mechanical tongue.

Michaelangelo jumped, banging his head into something within me—which I felt—before leaning out and looking up at me with an annoyed glare.

“Really, you must warn me before you start talking!” he said, exasperated. “Do you have any idea what that sounds like from inside your iron form?”

“No.”

“No, indeed,” he muttered before waving a gauntleted hand. The open hatch on my chest slid smoothly back and closed with a hiss. Then, Michaelangelo rose up to my face, scanning me with a careful squint. The fire in his eyes gave me the impression of a mad scientist trying to uncover the world’s deepest secrets.

“Well, I’ll need to look inside again when we have more time, but the king will be here soon. So, I must ask… Who are you, really?”

The question confused me. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean,” Michaelangelo said, rolling his eyes. “Who is inside there? I’ve been studying the mechanics of the giants for years, and my working theory is that…” He leaned in, glancing around furtively before whispering, “Inside the giants are human souls.”

I was floored by his statement. I mean, yeah, I logically knew that my soul was trapped inside this mechanical body, but the fact that this guy had figured it out stunned me. Did anyone else know? Or was it only the artificer?

And if he knew but hadn’t told anyone, did that mean I could trust him? Was he on my side?

“How do you know that?” I asked, causing the man to whoop with mad joy.

“I knew it!” he shouted triumphantly, nearly falling off the ladder as he flailed. “I wasn’t sure. After all, how could I be? I’ve never actually been able to work with one of the specimens before, but… I felt it. Soul transfer was already possible, after all. The man that made you was a mad genius!”

He continued mumbling to himself for a bit as I processed what he was saying, but when I went to respond, I was cut off.

“What’s all this then?” a commanding young voice called from the ground. “Who’s up there? Is that you Atkins?”

Michaelangelo and I both looked down, and the artificer swiftly shrunk his ladder, climbing down the rungs as it lowered. He jumped the last few feet to the ground and bowed to the man leading the platoon.

“My prince,” the artificer said calmly, holding one hand out far to the side as he bowed dramatically. “My name is Michaelangelo Erastus Glass Ambrose. I am the artificer put in charge of this giant’s maintenance.”

The prince nodded distractedly, apparently more interested in me. I couldn’t fault him for that.

“Yes, yes,” he said, waving the madman away before approaching me. He placed a hand on my leg, examining me with what might have been reverence. “Is this really the Flame Giant?”

“Indeed it is,” the artificer responded, before looking up at me and winking. I could’ve sworn he mouthed, “We’ll talk later.”