[An axe; what a weapon. Qilby finds himself wishing he had his other arm (or the Eliacube, so he could approximate one), just so he could wield his own axe - or any sort of polearm, really, would do. There's something satisfying about swinging around a scythe during a fight, the swish it makes slicing through the air... Or slicing through the skin of someone he despises.]

[But he doesn't have his arm, and so he probably looks like the perfect target. That's how it goes.]

Indeed it does - but nobody's heart is really a kind place. [A little hum.] Myself, I'm wondering what those keys are made of, that they could open interdimensional 'doors' like these.