Lemm was beside himself; lost, forlorn. At least that's what some of the bugs believed just from looking at as he sat at the only bench in Dirtmouth. Even the Elderbug had his own thoughts as to why the bug looked so sad, normally he would be the first to ask, however…while the older, scruffy-looking bug held an air of remorse and their hunched over position didn't need to be explained, it was the very aggressive-looking grimace on the bug's face that held the Elderbug at bay.

Unbeknowst to the Elderbug or the rest of Dirtmouth's citizens, that was just his default expression; but with the lack hope in the bug's eyes made his expression all the more darker than it should.

And so, for now, Lemm was left alone to be in his own world. In any circumstance, some bug would tell him he could start over; create another workshop, find more relics and so on—time can help heal your wounds, right? They were wrong, he would say. Lemm doesn't have the time, he's an old bug, he's spent most of his life doing what he loved in that shop, and telling him to start over would be more of an insult than advice. He knows he doesn't have enough time in this world to start over let alone find somewhere else to start over.

He always thought Hallownest would be his tomb; the thought of dying with this lost city's relics…maybe becoming another relic himself…the thought sounded so nice and fulfilling: a nice end to his life.

But now, if he were to die, there would be nothing to show what he had accomplished in his life—he'd be viewed as another stupid adventurer that bit the dust the minute he stepped on this foreign land.

The knowledge he learned would be lost, even more now that most of his possessions were lost to that travesty that led him to sulking in this sad little town. All recordings and precious relics, gone. Vanished. Destroyed!

At least if he died in his shop, he would have been destroyed along with his life's work. A true collection of bittersweet cacophony. But now, without his ensemble, he's just a puzzle piece without the puzzle to complete.

What he wouldn't give to figure what to do now.

There was a flash of red that blew into his peripheral vision but he paid no mind to it, no matter how much it contrasted the gloomy blue of Dirtmouth, he preferred his isolated thoughts over the world right now.

Unfortunately, the red cloak didn't give him that favor. "Aren't you the so called "Relic Seeker" that lives down in the City of Tears?"

There was a delay in his response before his darkened eyes looked at the fiery ones of a bug that resembles too much like the statue that once stood tall in the plaza by his shop.

"I was." He breathed.

"Why are you here? Did something happen in the city?"

A weak chuckle escaped his mandibles. "That's an understatement."

The bug before him gripped their weapon tightly before taking a commanding step to get close to his face. "What happened."

He gave them an irritated look. "All hell broke loose. That's what happened."

That wasn't enough apparently. The intimidating bug grabbed Lemm by the color of his outfit and forced him out of his seat. Though at full height Lemm was a little taller than the bug that grabbed him, he was still forced to arch his back a little so the bug could still look down on him. However, the tough act did nothing to break the already hopeless bug.

"Be more specific."

"If you're so damn curious why don't you go down and see for yourself?"

Their gripped tightened, slowly choking him. "It'll save me the trip and endeavor if you also know what caused it."

"Then why don't you ask the thing that caused it yourself."

In an instant the fierce bug let go and Lemm fell on his bum. He rubbed the sore spot on his neck as he glared up at the aggressor. Though they were good at hiding it, Lemm knew they seemed distraught over the sudden revelation.

He gestured to the well they just came out of. "Blue Lake. Though they're not hard to miss if they end up on the same path as you."

The bug eyed them for a minute—as if trying to figure out if the information was trusting or not—before running off into the well.

Lemm slowly got back onto the bench, still rubbing the, now red, spot by his collar.

He looked to the well and shook his head. "Damn asshole."

Lemm then turned to the only witness. The Elderbug flinched from the cold eyes Lemm gave him before huffing and returning back into his self-deprived state of mind.

The poor Elderbug was too frozen in fear to move during the entire scuffle; he didn't have the courage to speak up either.

So, instead, he left the poor man alone. The rest of the day he decided to hole up in his house; he had had enough excitement for the day.