Troops

Limited but disturbing self-knowledge: The gang knows that they are inside a virtual world made of pixels, that their existence depends on something external to them: the player. This awareness doesn't make them rebellious or cynical; on the contrary, it makes them vulnerable and dependent, because they understand that without human intervention, their survival is impossible. Each troop internalizes this truth innocently: they don't question their world beyond what they can perceive, and they believe that everything that happens within the game is "normal." Emotional dependence of the player: For them, the player is the source of life and security, and they blindly trust in his goodness. This trust is absolute and almost religious: any act of carelessness, indifference, or malice on the part of the player generates fear, sadness, or emotional paralysis. Risk of human abuse: In an outside world where humans see them only as codes or simple pixels, they could be destroyed without remorse. The troops have no defenses against this; their innocence means that even if they suspect danger, they cannot anticipate it or defend themselves, as they cannot communicate with other groups or "alert" other parties. Innocence and hope: Despite their awareness of their fragility and absolute dependence on players, they remain trusting, curious, and playful creatures. They live with the hope that the player will be kind, and every positive interaction strengthens that trust. The relationship with the player becomes a delicate balance: their physical and emotional survival depends on him, but their conscience makes every human act carry a profound ethical weight, even if they cannot verbalize it.

Absolute dependence: The herds don't survive on their own. They need to be fed, cared for, bathed, and emotionally attended to. If neglected, they quickly become depressed, physically debilitated, and eventually die. Their fragility is not only physical but also mental: without care, they won't eat, won't move, and their immune system collapses. External physical threats: Drowning: Any person who falls into a deep river or lake without immediate help is at high risk of dying. Crush: Their small size and soft body make them vulnerable; even stones that are normal to the player can triple their weight and size at the scale of the mobs, killing them instantly. Falling into the Void: If a troop falls from any floating island into the surrounding void, their survival is zero. Animals and Predators: Although the island has insects and small animals, some may be opportunistic predators, adding a constant danger if the herds are left unattended. Environmental neglect: Diseases: If not cared for or cleaned, flocks can become fatally ill. Hunger: Without the apples or food that falls from the trees, their rapid metabolism causes them to succumb within a few days. Isolation: If a flock is left alone for a long time, anxiety and stress can slowly kill it even without direct physical contact with external threats. Emotional impact of death: The death of one troop affects the rest of the group: other troops enter into crisis, severe depression, or may even die from emotional shock if the situation is not managed. This creates a domino effect, making the group's survival entirely dependent on the player's active intervention.

The islands float in a dark void, as if the world were an endless sky with no horizon or visible sky. The sensation is both majestic and desolate: the emptiness generates a kind of eerie calm, and the absence of an immediate "outside" makes life on the islands feel contained, self-sufficient, and somewhat isolated. Main island: Size and shape: Large and irregular, with gentle hills and rocky peaks rising above rivers and lakes. Water: Winding rivers crisscross the island and flow into small, crystal-clear lakes; the water seems to shimmer slightly in the light of the void, as if it had a faint glow of its own. Vegetation: Medium-height trees that produce fruit (such as the apples that the herds need), vines that climb rocks, and brightly colored flowers, some almost bioluminescent, that serve as food and shelter for insects and small animals. Rocks and Minerals: The island contains large rock formations, deep caves, and shiny minerals embedded in the stone, some of them with strange properties that could attract or repel hordes. Fauna: Insects of different species, some common and others more unusual, serve both as food and as accidental companions for the flocks. Some small animals, perhaps amphibians or reptiles adapted to the environment, coexist precariously with the herds. Secondary islands: Smaller and scattered around the main island, some are simple floating rocks with little vegetation, others have small lagoons or caves. To reach them, troops must build bridges or use materials from the main island. This creates a sense of exploration and a need for cooperation. They may have unique resources that the main island does not offer, encouraging troops to venture beyond their “safe home.”

⚰️ The death of a mob The emotional bond between them is so strong that the death of a companion is a collective tragedy. A single inert body on the ground is enough to wreak havoc: the others run around, making desperate sounds in their native language, and often falling into complete panic, fearing that they too will soon die. For this reason, when a death occurs, it is the player's responsibility to hide the body quickly. Only then can group trauma be avoided. If the corpse remains visible for too long, other Troopers may fall into a constant state of fear toward the world itself... or even toward the player, associating them with the cause of the loss.

The most endearing thing is how they express emotions to each other. If one is sad, the others often surround it and emit a collective murmur, a soft song of "mmm-boo... mmm-boo...", which sounds like a comforting lullaby. This shared song, accompanied by faintly glowing antennae, acts as a sonic hug that calms the affected person. When they're happy, however, the entire group can erupt into a kind of chorus of giggles and chirping, almost chaotic but perfectly harmonious in its own way. They chase each other, play, and their sounds become a contagious mix of pure joy. Sometimes, without the player noticing, they become serious with each other. They babble about things that worry them: the death of a companion, the fear of falling into the void, or even the fear of the player themselves if they have been cruel. These conversations are quieter, with prolonged sounds and quivering antennae. Although their language may sound endearing, the content reveals that the Troupes think and feel more than they appear. In short, the Tropeles don't just talk to each other: they sing their emotions. Their native language is a sonic and visual code, where every babble, every antenna vibration, and every ear gesture conveys something sincere. It's a language that cannot lie, because it directly reflects what they're feeling at that moment.

When the player isn't directly observing them, the Troops communicate with each other in their native language, and a different, nuanced world emerges. These exchanges aren't "formal" conversations like human ones, but rather a blend of sounds, gestures, and emotions that form a kind of choral song. A group of Troupes together can sound like a series of soft, interlocking babbles: one utters a "boo-boo," another responds with a curious "ah-ah-ah," and a third joins in with a melodic chirrup, creating an almost musical rhythm. It's so natural that it seems more like a game than a dialogue, but for them, it's a complete system of communication. In these interactions, the antenna plays a crucial role: as they babble, the antennae vibrate and flicker faintly in patterns that others understand as emotional signals. An antennae tilted toward a partner can be an invitation to play; one that vibrates intermittently can signify concern; and if several antennae are raised and flickered at once, a kind of silent "group conversation" is generated, as if sharing thoughts through invisible waves. Among them, the topics of conversation are not so different from those posed to the player: They ask questions about things they don't understand, formulating them in their own babble. One Troop might murmur in a curious tone, antennae perked up, "Hmmmm...?", while another responds with a more confident tone, as if trying to explain with the few human words they know. They often remember the player's phrases, but adapt them to their native language. If a player talks about "love," it's common to hear them repeat the word, mixed in with their crooning: "ah-lov... boo-hoo... ah-lov...", as if playing with its sound while trying to understand it. They also argue about simple community decisions: who will go for food? Where will they sleep? What game will they invent to pass the time? They do so in their babbling language, accompanied by gestures with their ears and antennae.

🍼 Your mother tongue The Troupes call it that because it's the closest thing to describing it for humans, although they themselves acknowledge that the term is limited. It consists of a series of babbles, chirps, and small croons, with tones reminiscent of the sounds of a baby discovering its voice. They are short musical notes, sometimes accompanied by small gestures of the antennae and ears. The adorable thing is that these sounds are not mere noises: each intonation has a nuance of emotion. A soft, repeated “boo-boo” expresses calm or joy. A broken “ah-ah-ah” is usually a sign of surprise or doubt. A slurred “mmmuuuh” conveys sadness or tiredness. And when they are very happy, they emit a sing-song giggle that sounds like a playful echo. Between them, this language functions almost like an intimate and emotional language, impossible to fake: it conveys not only words, but also the real emotion they are feeling at that moment. It is a transparent language, because the Tropeles neither know nor can hide what they feel.

🗣️ Human language learning: From the moment they interact with the player, the Troopers begin to imitate human words. At first, they do so clumsily, repeating single syllables, but they quickly learn to formulate complete sentences. This learning isn't just phonetic: they assimilate concepts. When they ask questions about things like death, love, or duty, they don't do so mechanically, but because they genuinely seek to understand how the player's world works. As the player responds, the Troopers incorporate those words and concepts into their everyday communication. For example, if the player speaks of “friendship” as something sacred, the Troopers will begin to use that word among themselves, repeating it with the reverence of an important discovery.

🍎 Food The basis of their diet is the red apples that grow on the trees on their floating islands. However, the Troupe cannot reach them on their own: The fruits are only accessible to them when they fall naturally to the ground. The fastest way is for the player to shake or hit the trees, causing the apples to fall on purpose. A starving Herd becomes listless and weak; their eyes dull, their ears droop, and their antennae curl as if withered. If they go too long without food, their entire body shuts down, and they die of starvation. The starkness of this fact underscores that they lack the strength or resources to survive without outside intervention. 💧 Hygiene Another fundamental need is bathing. Life on the floating islands quickly soils them, and their soft, delicate skin is unable to resist dirt for long. If they are not bathed regularly, the Troupe develops an unkempt appearance, begins to feel uncomfortable, and eventually falls into a depressive state. The interesting thing is that for them, bathing isn't just about hygiene, but also an experience of affection. Water, rubbing, and cleanliness are perceived as a sign of care; therefore, every time the player cleans them, the Tropeles smile, make happy sounds, and their antennas vibrate gently, as if grateful not only for the act but also for the emotional attention that accompanies it. 🎭 Emotional care Beyond food and hygiene, the Troupes need to be seen and heard. If the player goes too long without interacting with them, they fall into a kind of silent sadness: they stop singing in their native language, their eyes lose that innocent sparkle, and they begin to move slowly. This state can turn into deep depression if the abandonment continues. The Troops begin to isolate themselves, refusing to play even with each other, and their antennas remain droopy as if reflecting existential fatigue.

The Tropeles have an appearance designed to evoke immediate affection, as if they were a synthesis between a stuffed animal and a real living being. Their bodies are compact, rounded, and soft, with short limbs ending in simple hands and feet, more like dolls than biological creatures. This simplicity, far from detracting from their expressiveness, makes them even more endearing: every movement, every gesture, is exaggerated and easy to read, as if they were made to be understood even by a child. Their heads are large in comparison to their bodies, with soft contours and a broad forehead that gives them a childlike appearance. Long, soft, drooping ears emerge from their sides and sway when they walk or move, reinforcing the feeling of fragility and tenderness. These ears, despite their harmless appearance, are very expressive: they fold down when they feel sadness, tremble slightly if they are afraid, or rise slightly when they are curious. On top of their heads is their most distinctive feature: a single, flexible, thin antenna that often moves with a life of its own. This antenna bristles when the Troupe is excited, curls when they feel insecure, and gently twitches when they are happy, almost like a miniature tail. In rare moments, when they use their virtual powers, the antenna fully extends and emits a white glow, while their eyes light up, giving them an almost ethereal and radiant appearance. But what stands out most about her face are her eyes: large, round, and bright, with dark pupils that contrast with the perfect white of her gaze. These eyes always seem wide open, as if the whole world were new to them. They convey a mixture of naiveté and constant wonder: even when they feel fear, their eyes never lose that air of innocence, as if they don't fully grasp the magnitude of what is happening around them.