Adam is a little bit cliche, he knows, but he thinks there’s something to be said for the classics. Barnaby trapped in a deep, dark dungeon fighting for his life is so much more entertaining.

He rolls his eyes as Mettaton cries out. “Don’t be pathetic. There’s no need to show that kind of sympathy for someone like him.”

Barnaby looks up at the noise, squinting without his glasses. He doesn’t really recognize whoever is in front of him. He’s seen them around the castle, but can’t recall a name. Not that he could call for them or even apologize with Adam so close by.