The Pikmin OG Day 4

Days in The Pikmin OG archive

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Luiigii of the Pipes (cont.)

So into the wasteland they went. Boxmin admitted that even he hadn't gone in before; he had previously used an underground passage to get to the Great Tree, but that tunnel had since been sealed off by a pile of metal objects. The ground was lined with the same acidic puddles they had encountered near the entrance, bubbling and spewing their contents onto the ground nearby. Though Arrmin had already survived complete submersion in the liquid, they were wary of stepping in it. Metallic structures of very foreign design spiraled from the ground, some filled with pieces of shattered glass or covered in a red layer of rust. One 'min had tried scaling a piece of metal for a better view and found it quite a bit sharper than it looked, nearly slicing his own fingers off. From then on Mamumin led the way, bending the metal aside as the others huddled close behind. Wulfmin, Sumin, and a few others had tasked themselves with watching the Bulbmin to ensure that they didn't drink the water or rub up against the surrounding structures.

Also, as had been previously assessed by Gobmin, the wasteland was a gathering place for Dweevils. Most of the Pikmin had only heard in passing of the Dweevils, four-legged spiders with giant mandibles. Very few had actually seen them, partly because they tended to avoid confrontation, though mostly for never being in the proper habitat. Between the garden, they managed to surmise that Dweevils came in multiple colors depending on what element they used as a weapon and that they carried objects easily twice their size with their mandibles. Dweevils were particularly odd in that they imitated the behavior of that which they carried, though how they determined the object's prior behavior was a mystery to all. To combat the hazard presented by these creatures, Wulfmin divided the garden by color, prepping each group to rush forward and take care of its respective nemesis. Through this method they learned that Yellow Pikmin were immune not to fire or water or poison, but to a strange sort of spark emitted by Dweevils of the same color. Prophmin immediately declared the spark to be "Mamuta Tears" and another sign of their immense worthiness in the eyes of their god, but Gobmin changed it to "electricity" shortly after.

The trip through the wasteland would have been almost manageable if not for the pests leaping out at them every so often, somewhat different from the garden's previous assumption that they were timid. A few blue ones leapt out with strange green creatures that vaguely resembled the Olimar on their heads, shouting, "TEN HUT!" and "RATTA TATTA TAT!" They were surprisingly hard to put down, rolling around despite their inconveniently long legs and spitting bubbles toward the garden. One red had picked up a creature that even more closely resembled the Olimar, though it bore a mustache like Sumin's and wore red and blue instead of white. It bounced around and whooped at the top of its lungs, pitching tiny balls of fire in the process. The matter was made worse by the fact that this one would not stay down, even rising from the dead accompanied by an odd beeping sound. It took many tries on the reds' part to finally finish it off. Some Dweevils were made easy by the fact that they had picked up rocks, then simply curled up themselves and lay there motionless. On the other hand, others picked up bomb-rocks and rushed the garden as soon as it drew near. Mamumin took the fore with these, rushing forward and batting them away before they could explode. On rare occasion he was not fast enough and struck by the explosion instead. Though he endured, it was clear that he was becoming very weak, and fresh scars marked his stony form.

The last Dweevil they encountered on this first leg of their journey was a yellow. It had picked up an L-shaped piece of metal and watched the garden past from a distance. Struck by sudden inspiration, Prophmin darted toward the creature, scampered up a nearby structure, and leapt onto the piece of metal. "This," he crowed, making himself comfortable, "is more my style..."

"Indeed," the Dweevil agreed. "HAIL MAMUTA! WE'RE ALL DOOMED!"

Arrmin felt himself in tears.

Director

Boxmin watched Prophmin as he mounted the beast.

"Is it something new?" Memories flooded Boxmin's red brain, memories of the Olimar. "He used to ride a beast made of metal, as I recall." Boxmin stared at Prophmin so intensely it shocked everyone; it wasn't a stare of sorrow, or anger, but one of hatred. Pure hatred.

"What's wrong, Boxmin?" asked Wulfmin.

"Nothing at all," Boxmin responded.

Of course, Prophmin didn't even notice Boxmin. He was too busy with his new vehicle. Creeping along the path to the hive, Prophmin shot waves of electricity at anything that stirred in the bushes. Wulfmin, Arrmin, and the rest of the group followed, scared, but awed at Prophmin's monster.

As they approached the towering, black, stone gate of the hive, Prophmin began to speak. "Hello Hive citizens-"

Boxmin shushed Prophmin. "They don't take kindly to those with the scent of blood. We had better cleanse ourselves first. There is a great pool about an hour's walk away."

"Are you sure Boxmin? This hive may have knowledge of the alpha-"

"I've dealt with these people before. Not very trustworthy, might even say jaded."