Reach the final room.

Through the door is a smaller chamber filled with scraps of metal, tools, and other spare parts you don't recognize. There's also a large suit of plate armour across from you. Under the single light of this room's ceiling, you can make out the dark navy colour of the armour, as well as the gold decor of swirling patterns up and down the metal. It doesn't look like something you'd wear yourself, but it does stand at roughly your height, despite its bulkiness. You could try.

"This must be the mad mage's storage room," Eva says. "I wonder what kind of magical goodies we could find. Ooh. Maybe his research notes are here!"

"Don't touch anything," you say.

"I'll be careful."

"Just don't touch anything. Who knows what other safety mechanisms are in here?"

"Boo. I'm gonna touch things. Just try and stop me." She sticks out her tongue.

"I can see right through that gown."

She blushed heavily and wraps her arms around her body. "Sh-Shut up! No you can't!"

In anger, she bumps right into the suit of armour. Not only does it not sound empty, but the helmet begins to move.

Eva screams and runs towards you, wrapping her arms around your body. "I'm s-sorry~! Save me!"

You pat the bunny on the back and move her aside, and then ready your sword for danger. The armour jiggles. One arm lifts. Its head turns. Before you know it, you're facing what looks to be an elite knight. Your only solace is that it wields no weapon or shield.

"Uhm... Mr. Warren?" Amara whispers.

"Not now, Amara."

Her voice trembles. "But--"

You turn to see something laying on a table beside her surrounded by parts. It's an arm... and it's moving.

Amara screams, and jumps into you next. She wraps her arms around you. "A zombie!"

"I can't fight if you keep grappling me!" you shout.

You then hear a voice. It'd timid, soft, and feminine. It leans more to the side of monotone, though not to such an **** as the machine outside. Strangely of all, it seems to be coming from the suit of armour itself. The voice echoes from the metal covering its face, and it's muffled, though you can just barely make it out.

The right arm rises up, reaches around, and grabs the left, which doesn't seem to budge. "Excuse me," says the voice. "Can you help me with my arm?"

The limb on the table continues to move as if its trying to find its way over. Upon closer inspection, there is no blood. It almost looks like its made of wood as well--light brown with feint straight lines. At the end where you except to see bone, you just see a flat end with a knob, like a Lego brick or the arm of a doll. Though it does seem alive, with fingernails and all. You carefully make your way over to it.

"Uh... This?" you ask.

The armour stretches and slowly starts to move. "Yes please. I am still stiff as well."

You pick the arm up, and it feels just like skin. It isn't as warm as an arm normally is, but it isn't made of wood after all. At least, not any wood you've ever seen. It moves in your grip, however, which is really hard to ignore. This is freaky!

"It would be very helpful if somebody could take this armour off me," the voice speaks again. "I am sorry for being a bother"

"What do we do, Mr. Warren?" Amara asks.

"I guess we help. Let's get that armour off... her?"