Gabe: “Well, isn’t the enemy of your enemy, like, your friend? Or whatever? Can’t they team up?”

Tycho: “Not exactly. In this setting, the enemy of your enemy is still a floating, greasy, armored brain.”

Gabe: “Well, what about his enemy? Maybe you could be friends with him.”

Tycho: “No, because that guy is a mechanical horror in an undying battle shell. He sails from world to world in a flying tomb, serving gods who eat hope.”

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