Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I've always been alone. Even when surrounded by people I know.

Out in the woods, with nothing but the whisper of leaves and the hush of distant water, I was at peace. The silence didn't frighten me—it embraced me. It wrapped around my bones like a familiar quilt, thick with solitude but warm in its certainty. The trees didn't judge. The wind didn't pry. The stars never demanded answers. But among people? Strangers with expectant eyes and curious smiles? That was different. That was noise—awkward, twitching, breathless noise. I never knew what to say. Never knew how to be. I've never been good with people. Never cared to be.

Until he found me.

Or rather... I found him. I tried to push him away like I had everyone else. But the stubborn blonde refused to listen to reason. Or maybe he couldn't understand what I was saying due to the rasp in my throat, the hoarseness of my voice from years of disuse.

"Hey, guys! This is who I was talking about!" Lukas beams with enthusiasm, his voice ringing with excitement, startling me from my thoughts as I follow close behind him. His blonde hair shines under the bright sun, his blue eyes sparkling with a warmth I haven't seen before. The bustling energy of the crowd at EnderCon swirls around us, but I can't help but feel out of place as a brown-haired man eyes me with suspicion. His brow furrows slightly, eyes narrowing as he takes in my presence.

"Really? I thought you were joking. You know what? Welcome to The Ocelots, Y/N, right?" He says, arching an eyebrow, his tone both challenging and welcoming. I nod, the unfamiliarity of the situation settling heavily in my chest.

He holds up a black leather jacket, worn with time but still striking, with an ocelot head imprinted boldly on the back. "Go ahead, put it on. Show everyone you're with us." He says with a cocky smirk.

I hesitate for just a second before slipping the jacket over my shoulders, the leather cool against my skin.

Brown hair steps closer, sizing me up with sharp green eyes. "What's your name?" I ask, my voice steady despite the tension building around us.

"Oh! I'm Aiden. Those two are Gill and Maya." He explains, gesturing to the others. Maya's light blue eyes glint with a mix of curiosity and impatience, her brown hair falling in loose waves around her face. Gill, the taller of the two, sports a dark beard and a serious, almost intimidating look.

"Come on, we’re gonna be late to EnderCon!" Maya hisses in annoyance, her impatience palpable as she taps her foot.

"Alright, let's go. Newbie, put that jacket on!" Aiden urges, breaking into a run, his footsteps echoing across the concrete. The rest of us scramble to keep up, our shoes slapping against the ground as we rush through the busy streets of Beacontown.

Soon enough, we reach the registration desk for EnderCon. The air is thick with excitement, and the hum of voices fills the space. "We're building a rainbow beacon." I hear someone explain, their voice cutting through the buzz. A murmur of agreement ripples through the crowd.

I hear a voice behind me, dripping with disdain. "The rivalry continues."

"They've got matching leather jackets and everything." Another voice whispers, laced with jealousy.

Aiden spins around, his face twisting into a grin that could only be described as wicked. "Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Order of the losers." He taunts, the words sharp and biting.

I glance over my shoulder, my gaze locking on a group that stands out. One of them is a pig in an ender dragon costume, looking almost too ridiculous for words. Beside him is a bulky guy in summer green clothes, a girl with dark hair tied in pigtails, and a lanky boy with moppy hair and bright suspenders, standing tall but exuding a sense of confidence.

"Great, the fail squad is here." Maya scoffs, her voice dripping with amusement. "Get a load of these losers, Y/N." Aiden calls, flinging his arm around my shoulder. His touch feels intrusive, and I slide out from under his grasp, shooting him a dirty look.

"Let's go, guys." Lukas urges, his voice calm but firm, trying to keep the situation from escalating. We make our way to our assigned booth, and I can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

"Team name, please?" The lady behind the desk asks the other group.

"Order of the Pig." The suspender-wearing guy says proudly, his voice full of confidence.

"Okay, you guys are in booth 5." The receptionist says, pointing toward the area. I watch with mild amusement as the bulky guy from their group struggles to fit through the entrance to booth 5. His broad frame presses against the sides, and there’s an audible squeak as he tries to maneuver himself through. The sound of muffled laughter escapes from Maya and Gill as they watch. Finally, he squeezes through with a grunt of frustration, much to the delight of the others. They take their place at their booth.

As we prepare for our turn, I overhear the mutterings of the other group, their voices low but dripping with contempt. Their words are sharp and laced with jealousy, clearly annoyed by our presence here at EnderCon.

"Look, it’s the Order of the losers, again." Gill sneers, his eyes narrowing as he glances at the group.

"Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of time for you to look at it after it wins and gets shown at EnderCon!" Aiden boasts confidently, his chest puffing out as his voice echoes in the space around us.

"Oh, and EnderCon doesn’t allow outside food or drink." Aiden sneers, his gaze flicking toward the pig in the Ender dragon costume. Sliding his arm around my waist, I shove him firmly, causing the pig to squeal nervously.

"Dude, shut up." The moppy-haired boy grunts, his fists clenching as he stands his ground.

"What was that?" Aiden asks, his expression darkening, his hand passing me the rainbow beacon.

"Jesse said shut up. Do you need to hear it again?" Pigtails snaps, her tone sharp and unyielding. I bite back a snicker, my hand covering my mouth in an attempt to mask my amusement.

"Aiden, leave them alone and let's get stuff prepared." I hiss, my eyes narrowing as I lock my gaze with his.

"Watch your tone, newbie!" Aiden snarls, his jaw clenched.

"Oh? Do you want me to drop this oh-so-valuable beacon? It’s getting very heavy..." I taunt, swaying it slightly to emphasize my point.

"Okay, I’m coming!" Aiden scoffs, rolling his eyes before finally relenting and taking the beacon from my hands with exaggerated reluctance.

"Oh, hey, Petra! I forgot to thank you for that Nether star!" Lukas calls out, waving enthusiastically toward a red-haired girl with a blue-striped bandana.

"Hey, Lukas, not a problem!" Petra answers casually, tossing him a friendly wave.

"You helped these tools?" Jesse asks, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"For the right price, I’ll help anyone." Petra shrugs nonchalantly. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"But none of us know where to find you!" Pigtails exclaims in frustration.

"Exactly." Petra grins, stepping away as she disappears into the crowd. "No hard feelings, guys. If you’re cool with Petra, you’re cool with us." Lukas says, trying to smooth things over, his tone more pleading than he intended.

"We're going to crush you" Jesse growls, his voice thick with challenge. His scowl deepens as his gaze locks onto mine.

"I would love to see you try." I sneer, stepping forward to meet him head-on.

"Is that a challenge?" He asks, his breath brushing my face as he moves closer.

"Take it how you want it, piggy." I hiss, our faces mere inches apart, the tension crackling like static.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the EnderCon building competition!" A woman announces over the loudspeakers, stepping up to the microphone. The sudden shift in attention diffuses the moment as both Jesse and I step back, the lingering tension momentarily forgotten.

Aiden, Gill, Maya, and Lukas share a handshake, their palms slapping together in a rhythm of camaraderie, while I stand apart, my eyes drifting over to the other group. I watch them make an awkward attempt at a handshake, and I can’t help but stifle a laugh. What’s wrong with me? I haven’t felt this alive in... years.

"Building starts... Now!" The woman declares, her voice cutting through the air like a starting pistol. I shake off the lingering emotions and focus, blocking out the noise and tension around me. Time to get to work.

We rush to build, placing Redstone and stained glass with precision, our hands steady as we work against the clock. The air hums with the sounds of hurried construction, the subtle click of Redstone contraptions falling into place, and the soft rustling of stained glass shifting into position. "Oh no! A fireworks dispenser, I'm so scared!" Aiden taunts, his voice dripping with exaggerated sarcasm, causing a few nearby builders to snicker. He smirks, his tone sharp as he steps back, arms crossed. "You worry about your build, we'll worry about ours." Jesse insists, his voice steady, though a hint of challenge flickers in his eyes. Aiden raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a mocking grin.

A few hours later...

The night sky bursts to life as fireworks explode above us, their vivid colors casting fleeting glows across the crowd. People gasp in awe, their faces illuminated in the brilliance. I turn, squinting through the haze of smoke to locate the source. Booth 5. They've managed to rig up a firework dispenser beneath a wool creeper, and though it's not exactly intricate, I can't help but be impressed by its ingenuity. "Good build!" someone shouts, their voice enthusiastic. "What? No way... It's just a bunch of dyed wool!" Aiden protests, his face reddening with frustration, hands balling into fists. His voice shakes with anger, a stark contrast to his earlier bravado. "Aiden, no!" I yell, my voice high with urgency as I rush forward, but my feet are too slow. He raises his fist, hovering above a stone block positioned precariously next to a pit of smoldering lava. Before I can reach him, the block cracks and the lava spills forth with a hissing roar, fiery streams cascading like a furious river of molten gold.

The heat is immediate, a wave of blistering warmth that makes the air around us shimmer. A shrill squeal cuts through the tension as the pig, dressed in its vibrant costume, dashes into the forest with frantic little steps. Jesse’s silhouette blurs in the distance, chasing after it with reckless determination. My blood boils with a mix of fury and disbelief. "Aiden! What the hell?!" I shout, my voice crackling with raw emotion as I shove him, hard. His smirk deepens into a twisted sneer. "Relax, their precious build will go up in flames, and we can win." He mutters, his words dripping with malice.

I force myself to look away, my hands shaking with suppressed anger as I grab a handful of cobblestone. I rush toward the others who are trying desperately to salvage the mess, their faces taut with concentration. "Here!" I call, pushing the cobblestone toward them. They build quickly, fortifying the structure with almost mechanical precision, the stone clicking together with a satisfying clink as they form a barrier around the encroaching lava.

"We didn’t need YOUR help." Axel snaps, his voice a low growl, his glare burning into me. "Fine, I won’t try to help then." I snap back, my words sharp as I turn on my heel, frustration bubbling under my skin. The silence that follows is thick, punctuated only by the soft crackling of the lava slowly retreating, contained by their hastily constructed wall. I walk back toward the rest of the group, my chest tight with suppressed emotion, my steps heavy.

"Stupid Ocelots, stupid new member." Axel mutters under his breath, the bitterness in his tone unmistakable. Olivia doesn’t meet his gaze but sighs, a sound of quiet exasperation. "Hey, they were just helping. You didn’t have to be so rude." 

"They’re an Ocelot, not trustworthy." Axel shoots back, his words biting, his eyes narrowed with distrust. Olivia simply sighs, a weary gesture, and I can see she’s given up on changing his mind.

I glance at Lukas, who’s watching the exchange with a frown. "Hey, don't worry about them. Axel just isn't fond of people he doesn't know." He murmurs, trying to reassure me, but his words are far from comforting. "Doesn't look like he's fond of you either." I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"That's fair. Aiden really gets under their skin." Lukas chuckles lightly, his tone easing, but I can hear the edge of frustration beneath the surface. "I can tell. Maybe it wasn't worth coming here." I mutter, my eyes tracing the cobblestone beneath my boots, trying to push the growing tension from my chest. Lukas puts a hand on my shoulder, the gesture warm and grounding.

"Don't say that! You'll love it here, don’t let them get in your head. Besides, would you rather be lonely in an empty house for the rest of your life?" Lukas asks, his voice gentle but firm. I laugh, though it feels hollow. "Yes." The word slips out before I can stop it, sharp and sarcastic. Lukas pauses, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "I won't let you. Remember our promise?"

The memories come crashing back—flickers of violence and panic, blood staining my hands, flashing lights that twisted the world around me, and the echo of Lukas’s voice cutting through the chaos. It was then that I first realized how much he cared, how much he’d silently held me together when I was sure I would break. That moment, that bond, had become a tether, pulling me through the darkest moments of my life.

"Hey, it's getting dark. We should head over to the rest of the convention." Lukas suggests, his eyes glancing up at the darkening sky. The sun has dipped low, casting long shadows across the land. The colors of twilight stretch across the horizon—a wash of pale pinks and bright oranges—while the first stars begin to twinkle, shy at first, as if unsure whether to join the show. As we start walking toward the heart of the convention, I can’t shake the thought of that pig. Why am I concerned about it? It’s just a stupid pig... I try to push the thought away, but it lingers, gnawing at the back of my mind.

The hum of the crowd and the faint sound of music fill the air, along with the delicious scent of roasted meats and sugary confections. People are everywhere, their voices a constant backdrop, laughter, and chatter blending into one buzzing current. The atmosphere is alive with movement, the energy infectious, yet I remain hyper-aware, my senses sharp, taking in every sound, every shift in the crowd.

Suddenly, the sound of quick, heavy footsteps behind me causes my hand to twitch toward the sword at my hip, a reflex I can’t shake. A voice calls out, too familiar, too close. "Hey! Just me!" Lukas’s voice is quick and apologetic, and I feel the tension leave my body as I turn, recognizing him instantly.

"I’ll go get us something to eat, wait here." He says, disappearing into the throng before I can protest, vanishing into the sea of faces.

A few minutes later...

I wait, my eyes scanning the crowd for Lukas. Suddenly, something crashes into me with startling force, knocking me off balance. I stumble backward, my hands scrambling for purchase before I hit the ground hard. Before I can even fully process what’s happened, a figure in a green robe streaks past me, the flash of blue from the gem on his belt almost blinding me in the dimming light. He’s gone in an instant, disappearing into the crowd like a shadow.

"Watch where you're going!" I yell after him, irritation sharp in my voice, though the words barely seem to make an impact.

Moments later, a familiar face appears above me, blocking out the fading sky as Jesse rushes over. "Oh, hey, Y/N, right? Here, let me help you." He says, offering a hand. His voice is warm and friendly, but something flickers in his eyes, a hint of something I can’t quite place.

"Thanks, but I don’t need it." I reply curtly, brushing myself off as I stand. Jesse doesn’t seem offended, though I catch a flicker of something behind his smile as he steps back. "Any chance you saw a creepy guy in a green robe run through here? He kinda scammed me and Petra out of a deal." Jesse’s voice is filled with frustration and a tinge of embarrassment.

"Yeah. He bumped into me. I think he went that way." I gesture, pointing in the direction I saw him disappear.

"Thanks!" Jesse calls, his voice already retreating as he turns to sprint after the figure. I watch him go, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Lukas had spoken highly of Petra, yet this whole exchange feels... wrong. Why did I care so much about that pig? I shake my head again, trying to dismiss the nagging feeling that something's not quite right.

Shortly after, Lukas reappears, a strip of cooked mutton in his hand. We sit and eat in silence, the bustling noise of the convention fading into the background.

"So, did Petra tell you to keep an eye out for a weird guy?" Lukas asks between bites.

"No, Jesse did. He told me everything." I answer, swallowing the last of my food.

"Oh. Y'know, you never told me why you were living outside of Beacon Town or for how long." Lukas adds, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of curiosity.

I freeze. The question hits me like a blow to the chest, the weight of it almost suffocating me. My throat tightens, and for a moment, I can’t seem to find my words. Lukas’s eyes soften, realizing too late that he may have just crossed a line.

"Hey, if you're not comfortable talking about it, it's fine." Lukas quickly adds, realizing his mistake. I stay silent, my fingers absently tugging at the hem of my sleeve as I battle the knot in my throat. The weight of my past is heavy, a burden I’m not sure I’m ready to unload on Lukas. My gaze flickers to the ground, avoiding his questioning eyes. "Hey... Uh... Look! Slimeballs! Want one?" Lukas offers, his voice rising with a slight nervousness, desperate to shift the mood.

I shake my head, a quiet exhale escaping my lips. "Ok, suit yourself." Lukas shrugs, his usual grin faltering a little before he wanders over to the stand. The lady running it wears the same style of attire as the guy Petra's been eyeing—the one with the tattooed arms and wild hair. That’s... odd. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but I can’t help the nagging feeling in my gut.

Lukas returns to my side, flipping a slimeball in the air like a coin, the soft squelch of the slime hitting his palm with each catch. His eyes are focused on the ball, a familiar rhythm to his movements as if the action helps him clear his mind. It’s a strange comfort, watching him. Then, suddenly, an earsplitting squeal cuts through the air. My stomach clenches. Wait... That’s Jesse’s pig!

Before I can move, Jesse's already darting past, a blur of motion as he makes a beeline for the butcher’s stall. His boots slap against the cobblestones at a rapid pace. I follow, but he’s faster. They’re shouting now, Jesse’s voice rising in anger, but it’s the butcher who escalates, his face turning red as he raises his arms defensively. The tension spirals higher, a moment hanging on a razor's edge.

Then, in an unexpected flash, Jesse pulls a sword from his belt with a snap, its blade catching the sun for a fraction of a second. He points it directly at the butcher’s throat, a low growl escaping his chest. The crowd around us stills, breaths held, the air thick with uncertainty. I feel my heart racing, my hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of my blade, though I know it’s not needed. Jesse wouldn’t—no, he couldn’t kill him. He doesn't have the nerve.

But then the butcher, with a quick, irritated gesture, shoves the pig off the stand, and Jesse backs off, lowering his sword. It’s over almost as quickly as it started, leaving only the echo of the butcher’s grumbling and the scattered remnants of a tense silence. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

I stand there, watching Jesse walk away, a strange gnawing feeling settling in my chest. There’s something about him—something that feels out of place, even though he fits perfectly into the chaos around us. I’ve always been able to read people, to see through their façades, but Jesse... He’s like a closed book, his intentions and emotions hidden in a maze I can’t quite navigate. My eyes widen as Jesse walks over to both me and Lukas, his face full of pleading.

"Hey, Lukas." He clears his throat. "I have to ask you for a favor."

Lukas turns to Jesse, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "Anything’s possible." His tone is light, teasing, but his eyes are serious, waiting for him to continue.

"I need slime. I have a really good explanation, I swear." Jesse pleads, his tone soft. The desperation is clear in his words, his eyes wide.

Lukas doesn’t even hesitate, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Whatever you're doing, count me in." He turns to me. "Y/N?"

"Sure." I reply though the words feel distant and detached. I glance at Jesse’s friends approaching us, the whole group moving as one like some sort of well-rehearsed routine.

"I told you they could be useful." Petra’s voice is teasing, but I can hear the edge of amusement in her tone.

Jesse rolls his eyes, exhaling through his nose. "Aww, these guys aren't cool now, are they?" Axel’s voice cuts in, whining in mock protest as he glares at me and Lukas. It’s a playful, harmless glare, but it doesn’t go unnoticed.

"So, what now?" Lukas asks, turning his full attention back to Jesse, eager for the plan to unfold.

Jesse glances around, his eyes narrowing with thought before speaking. "I wanna break this guy’s machine to make a distraction. We found that guy—he went into the keynote, but we couldn’t follow him because of the usher. But the usher is terrified of chickens."

The words settle in, and I can’t help the small smile that spreads across my face. "Oh, I see where this is going."

Lukas nods, an excited twinkle in his eyes as he looks at the slime block that’s now in Jesse’s hands. The squish of the slime as it condenses into shape is almost nauseating, the texture sticky and slick, but Jesse seems unbothered by it, even muttering in distaste as he stares at his creation. "Gross."

Olivia steps in, not missing a beat, her hand snatching the slime block. "I'll take that!" She exclaims, immediately placing it with a wet, squelching sound by the chicken machine. The soft, disgusting sound makes me grimace, but I’m too focused on the plan to care much.

"Give me a boost!" Jesse calls as he clambers up a nearby stand, the wood creaking under his weight. Axel is right behind him, giving him a hand up. Jesse pauses, looking down with a deep, determined breath, his body tense as he prepares for the leap.

And then, without warning, Jesse leaps into the air, his form twisting in an awkward arc. For a heartbeat, I hold my breath, watching him fall. It’s almost graceful, but then—his legs flail, and his body jerks, panic flashing across his face as he slams into the slime block, his belly hitting it with a loud thud.

The force sends him bouncing, the slime absorbing the impact, but the chicken machine? The glass shatters into a thousand tiny shards, spraying outward in all directions with a sharp, brittle crack. "Ouch. That’s one way to use your head." I mutter, a wince tugging at my lips as I stifle a laugh. Jesse’s groan follows, a mix of frustration and embarrassment.

Chickens scatter in all directions, their frantic clucks filling the air. A shrill voice pierces through the chaos. "My poultry! My precious poultry!" A man races across the square, chasing after the now-freed birds, his cries laced with a mix of rage and desperation.

"Close your eyes! They'll peck out your eyes!" The usher screeches, hands over his face in terror, his body trembling as he stumbles backward.

"Now’s our chance!" Petra shouts, pointing to the keynote. Her voice cuts through the noise, sharp and clear, and the group is off, charging forward with purpose. We rush past the distracted usher, taking the stairs two at a time as we move swiftly into the keynote.

"Where’d he go?!" Petra asks urgently, her breath quick as she scans the room.

"There!" Jesse shouts, pointing toward a door—its outline bathed in a haunting red glow from the torches flanking it. It’s an ominous sight, and my stomach churns as I take a step closer, ready for whatever comes next.

Chapter Text

The others race toward the door, without hesitation. I follow, although a heavy knot tightens in my stomach.

"What do we do once we catch him?" Lukas asks, his voice carrying a mix of eagerness and tension.

"I wouldn't mind a little payback." Jesse adds, his tone darker than usual. I stifle a snort of disbelief.

"He deserves it for crossing Petra." Lukas mutters, his hand clenching into a fist. Petra nods, her jaw set in a grim line, then steps inside the door. Down a narrow, creaking set of stairs, we all sneak a cautious glance around a corner.

"See anything?" Jesse asks, his voice hushed as if his very words might betray us. "He must've gotten out another way." Petra shakes her head, her eyes scanning every inch of the room, alert.

We all slip fully into the dimly lit basement. The air is thick with dust, and the faint smell of aged paper mingles with the herbal scents of various potions strewn across the shelves. The walls are lined with heavy bookshelves, their surfaces thick with a coating of neglect. "What is all this?" I murmur under my breath, my fingertips grazing the worn spines of books that feel ancient to the touch.

"Looks like it used to be the basement." Jesse says, his voice echoing slightly in the confined space.

"I bet you anything my skull is down here." Petra's voice sounds both resigned and teasing, though the weight of her words is clear.

"And if we find anything else cool to steal along the way, so be it, right?" Axel's voice is laced with mischief as he brushes past a shelf, eyeing a glint of something metallic.

"Axel, that's not what we're here to do." Petra scolds, her voice firm but with a hint of impatience. "No better payback than stealing from a thief, right?" Axel counters with a shrug, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips.

"I don’t want to stoop to his level." Petra shakes her head, her eyes flicking toward the shelves, clearly searching for any signs of the skull.

"Let's focus on finding the skull, not stealing." Jesse chides with a quiet authority in his voice. A disappointed look crosses Axel's face, though he doesn't protest. "The sooner we find the skull, the faster we can get the heck out of here!" Jesse says with urgency, his tone shifting to one of impatience.

I drift further into the room, my hand brushing lightly across the spines of the dusty books. The feeling of the rough leather and the quiet scrape of the paper fills my mind with unsettling memories. This place... reminds me so much of my dad's old laboratory.

A shiver crawls up my spine at the thought. The images flash before my eyes, unbidden. The crackling heat of flames licking at my skin, the suffocating smoke filling my lungs, and the bitter taste of my own blood trickling down my chin. My father's eyes—bloodshot, feverish, filled with twisted obsession—haunt me, chasing me like a rabid animal. The memories come crashing down like a wave, a dam breaking free. These moments I’ve fought so hard to forget... Why can't I just be normal? Why can't I be free?

A sudden hand on my shoulder jolts me out of my thoughts, my heart leaping in my chest. I whirl around, startled. "Oh, Jesse!" I yelp, my voice too loud in the tense silence.

"Hey, find anything?" He asks, his gaze soft, though there's an edge of concern in his tone.

"Nope! Unfortunately." I shrug, attempting to mask the unease that has settled in my stomach like a lead weight. But Jesse doesn't seem convinced.

"Are you ok?" His voice is quiet and insistent, his eyes searching mine. "You're shaking."

Dammit! I hadn't even noticed until now, but my whole body is trembling, a cold sweat beading on my forehead. "No! I’m not shaking, I’m fine." I lie, brushing him off with a forced smile. Jesse raises an eyebrow, unconvinced, his gaze narrowing as he reaches for my wrist and pulls it toward him.

"Not shaking, huh?" He says with a sarcastic lilt, though there's no humor in his tone.

"I—" I’m cut off by the sudden screech of grinding gears, an unnerving sound that fills the air, followed by a loud, gruff oink.

"I think Reuben found something!" Petra yells, her voice tinged with excitement and relief.

Jesse backs up, moving toward Petra, and I follow suit. Wait... wasn’t there a bookshelf right here just a moment ago? "What the hell is all this stuff?" Jesse asks, his voice tinged with confusion and a little awe. Before us, the floor is scattered with soul sand arranged in a strange shape, almost like... a ‘T’. And in the center, something gleams—a command block.

"Soul sand, it was everywhere in the Nether." Petra explains, her voice flat as if she's already pieced together what’s happening.

"What about that block in the middle?" Jesse asks, his eyes trained on it.

"It's called a command block. They're super rare. My father used to have one." I say, my voice quieter now, a chill running through me at the thought of my father’s failed experiments with the block. He believed it could cure his sickness, but he was wrong—wrong in every sense.

"I’ve never seen one of these before, I wonder if I just take a closer look..." Olivia says, reaching toward it with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"Don’t forget what we're here for. Find that skull." Jesse says firmly, his voice brokering no argument. He turns to a nearby chest, tugging it open with a quick motion.

"Uh, guys? Good news, weird news." Jesse’s voice carries through the room, catching our attention.

"What is it?" Petra asks, her voice sharp with anxiety.

"Well, I found the skull..." Jesse trails off, his gaze focused on the object he’s holding.

"Why did I risk my neck for that skull when he already has two more of them?" Petra huffs, clearly irritated.

"Wait... I think I know what this is. Soul sand, plus three wither skulls... that's the recipe for a wither!" Lukas says, his expression flooded with horror. He looks as if he’s seen a ghost.

No... No, this guy wouldn't be that stupid. My heart begins to race. I’ve seen the Wither before, in pictures my father showed me—his obsession with the wither sickness, its deadly effects. The thought makes my stomach churn.

"A wither, that's—" Petra begins, but Lukas cuts her off, his voice rising in panic.

"One of the worst monsters there is! We need to leave!" Lukas says, his eyes wide in fear.

"You're right. The Wither is a beast that should not be summoned." I back away from the chest, my heart hammering in my chest.

Suddenly, a door creaks open from farther away. "It’s Ivor! Scatter!" Petra whispers urgently, her voice a mix of fear and command.

Everyone scrambles in different directions—behind bookshelves, into dark corners, disappearing into the shadows. My pulse quickens as I bolt after them, panic setting in as I realize I’m out in the open. The intersection of bookshelves is too exposed—there’s nowhere to hide! A hand wraps around my wrist and yanks me into a dark corner, and I almost let out a startled yelp, but another hand clamps over my mouth, muffling the sound.

My back slams into the cold stone wall, the air heavy with the scent of dust and old wood. "Shhh!" A harsh whisper cuts through the silence.

I nod, my heart still pounding in my ears. The hand on my mouth is removed, and I blink, my eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness. It's Jesse. Why is he so close? His breath is warm against my cheek, his chest pressed against mine. I can feel his heartbeat thrum beneath my palms, and for a moment, everything else fades.

"Don't you recognize me?!" Ivor’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and full of venom. His footsteps echo, booming across the room.

"Surprised to see me? Thought you were rid of me, didn't you?!" He continues, his voice growing louder as he moves around the room. Is he... practicing a speech of some kind? Jesse watches him carefully, his chest still pressed against mine, though I can barely focus on anything other than the rapid beat of my own heart. His eyes—why haven't I noticed before how captivating they are? The sharpness in them... the depth.

Jesse turns his head slightly, as if sensing my gaze, and his eyes lock onto mine. For a second, time slows. My face flushes, and I can feel my breath catch in my throat. His eyes, there's something I can't place, something different about him. I know he wouldn't hurt anyone... but his gaze? It's unreadable, like a mystery I can't solve.

A loud crash suddenly interrupts the silence. A potion bottle shatters, the sound sharp in the air. I jump, and Jesse snaps his attention back to Ivor.

"Who's there?!" Ivor yells, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and rage.

Olivia shrinks deeper into her hiding place, her breath shallow, as the air grows thick with tension. She tries to make herself as small as possible, her eyes darting around for any escape. Ivor's footsteps draw nearer, heavy and determined.

Suddenly, a figure leaps from the shadows. Jesse’s voice cuts through the stillness. "Olivia, look out!" he yells, his tone sharp, urging her to move. I spring out of hiding as well, knowing our cover’s been blown. "What are you doing here?!" Ivor spits, his face twisting with surprise and anger.

"Leave him alone!" Petra's voice rings out, fierce and protective, as she steps forward from her own hiding spot. Her stance is defiant, ready for a fight. Axel joins in, crossing his arms and sneering. "Yeah, back off, pal." He growls, his eyes narrowing with irritation.

Ivor glares at them all, his fists tightening. "You two! Did you follow me here?" he demands, the venom in his voice clear.

"You thought you could just screw us over, didn't you?" Petra sneers, her words dripping with contempt.

Jesse’s voice takes on a growl, raw and serious. "We're here to prove you wrong."

Ivor sneers, his lips curling in a cruel smile. "What are you going to do about it? I have what I want, and you have exactly what you earned." His tone oozes disdain.

"Pay us what you owe us." Jesse snaps back, stepping forward. "You give us a diamond, we'll get out of your hair."

"I won't be threatened." Ivor snarls, his voice low, menacing. "Not by the likes of you." He inches closer, his eyes narrowing as if sizing them up.

Axel takes a step forward, his body radiating menace. "Hey, nobody talks to my friends like that. Now shut your mouth, or else." His voice is low, full of warning, and he pushes past us, chest out, ready to take on Ivor.

"Enough!" Ivor growls, raising a hand. "You've wasted too much time already!" With a swift motion, he bolts around a nearby bookshelf, vanishing from sight.

"Where'd he go?" Petra asks, her voice frantic as she looks around the dimly lit room. Her eyes dart from corner to corner, searching for any sign of movement.

"If you won't leave of your own volition..." Ivor calls from somewhere out of sight, his voice echoing through the air, "I'll happily remove you myself." There's a sense of finality to his words, and before we can react, he steps into view, holding a carved pumpkin high.

Without warning, he places the pumpkin atop a strange iron structure, and with a loud pop, the pumpkin transforms into an Iron Golem. The sound of its massive arms shifting and creaking fills the room. "Show our friends the door, won't you?" Ivor asks with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.

The golem swings its colossal arm, the movement so fast and powerful that we’re forced to dive to the side to avoid it. The sound of its metallic limbs scraping and the heavy thud of its fist hitting the ground reverberates in the air. The golem turns to face us again, its large arm pulled back, preparing for another attack.

"We need to move!" Petra yells, her voice tight with urgency. We scramble toward the exit, rushing through the door and into the keynote.

"Everyone okay?" Jesse calls, his voice filled with concern as he looks around at us.

"Guys... Where’s Lukas?" Olivia asks suddenly, her voice wavering as she scans the group. Panic creeps into her tone when she realizes the truth. Lukas is missing.

"He must be... in there!" Axel exclaims, pointing towards the basement we just emerged from. The urgency in his voice spikes. "Ivor has an Iron Golem and all the ingredients for a wither down there. If he releases that in this crowd of people, it could be catastrophic. We need to act fast!"

Petra looks grim, but determination hardens her gaze. "We need to warn everyone, and fast. We can’t let Ivor get away with this."

Olivia, her hands shaking but her voice steady, says, "It just so happens the greatest warrior of all time is in the building. We should tell Gabriel."

"We need Gabriel to get Lukas back, and to deal with everything else we saw in there." Jesse agrees, his voice firm.

"We’re doing the right thing, Jesse." Petra says softly, trying to reassure him. Her eyes meet his, and there’s an unspoken understanding between them.

"No." I say, cutting in. My voice is low and steady. "You guys get Gabriel. I’m going back for Lukas."

"What?!" Olivia’s eyes widen in shock, her voice rising with panic. "After everything you saw, you're going back?!"

"I’ve seen worse." I reply, my tone resolute. "Besides, Lukas is in more danger down there."

Before anyone can argue, I turn and bolt, my feet pounding against the floor as I race back to the door and down the stairs.

The air is heavy with the sound of the Iron Golem’s lumbering steps, the thuds echoing in the silent basement. The golem’s footsteps grow fainter as I move further down.

"Lukas?! Are you here?!" I whisper-shout, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Y/N? Is that you whispering super loudly?" Lukas’s voice answers from behind a chest, his tone confused but relieved. His head peeks out, eyes widening when he sees me.

"We need to go!" I hiss, grabbing his arm.

"What about the golem?" Lukas asks, his voice shaking with fear.

"It’s gone for now." I reply, urgency rising in my chest. "Just run!"

Without another word, Lukas leaps from the chest, his feet skidding slightly on the floor as he dashes toward me. I lead the way, my heart hammering as I make a mad dash for the stairs, the noise of our footsteps echoing in the space.

We burst back into the keynote, breathless and panicked. "We need your help! Two of my friends are stuck down there!" Jesse urges, his voice frantic as he approaches a man standing near the stage.

Gabriel, who had been calmly observing the chaos, turns to face us, his brow furrowed. "Perhaps we should check this out." He suggests, his tone measured, but there’s an edge of concern underneath.

But before Gabriel can move, another man steps forward from the crowd, his voice sharp with urgency. "I have a question for you."

"Excuse me, sir, you'll have to wait your turn." Gabriel says, his voice calm but firm, redirecting the attention to Jesse.

The man’s presence is unsettling—there’s something vaguely familiar about him, though I can’t place it. I brush the thought aside, focusing on the situation at hand.

The man moves closer to the stage, and with a sharpness in his voice, he asks, "Just tell me first, do you really believe anyone can be great?"

"With enough hard work, yes." Gabriel answers, his voice steady, though the question seems to strike a nerve.

The man scoffs, his eyes wild. "Is that where I went wrong?! I simply didn’t work hard enough?!" He emerges from the crowd with a roar of frustration, his face twisted with anger.

I freeze. The realization crashes into me like a cold wave. "Ivor?! Is that really you?" Gabriel’s voice is full of disbelief, his gaze fixing on the man with shock written all over his face. Do they know each other? "That's the guy that attacked us in the basement!" Jesse pipes up, his voice full of accusation. Gabriel's eyes narrowed, glaring at Ivor with a newfound hatred. "I wish I could say I was surprised." 

Ivor smirks, the cruel satisfaction on his face as he moves toward the stage.  "If it's surprises you want, you're in for a treat. Why don't you tell them the real story, Gabriel?!"

Gabriel sneers, his fists clenching. "I see time has made you bitter."

"And it’s made you an even bigger fool. Now, these people were promised greatness, and I’m ready to deliver. I’m sorry this is how they had to learn the truth." Ivor’s voice oozes with malicious intent.

"Gabriel, stop him!" Jesse yells, his voice desperate.

Ivor flicks a lever with a malicious grin, and the floor beneath the stage shifts. A block emerges from the floor, glowing ominously, the dreaded soul sand and command block rising into view.

"Nothing built can last forever." Ivor murmurs darkly, placing the final skull on the command block with a sinister finality.

"Ivor, no!" Gabriel shouts, but the power of the summoning is overwhelming. A blast of energy erupts, and Gabriel is thrown backward, his body slamming into the ground.

The crowd screams in terror, their panic rising as the smoke clears. An eerie, inhuman shriek echoes through the room. The Wither, monstrous and terrifying, emerges from the swirling smoke, its presence radiating destruction.

"Creature, attack!" Ivor commands, his voice low and commanding.

The Wither roars, and with a fiery blast, it sends a flaming skull hurtling toward the crowd. The chaos erupts as people scramble for the exit, but I’m frozen. My mind races back to memories of my father’s failure... I can see his face, his frustration, the weight of his work crumbling around him. My body stiffens, panic gripping me. The Wither’s eyes turn toward me, its gaze locking onto mine. Another skull is fired, this time in my direction. Dammit! My body is frozen! I can't move! Is this... How I die?

Chapter Text

Before I can process anything else, a hard force slams into me, knocking me out of the way. "Are you okay?!" Lukas's panicked voice reaches my ears, laced with urgency. "I think so... You can get off now." I reply, my heart racing. Lukas crawls off me, his face flushed with embarrassment as he rubs the back of his neck. I scramble to my feet, disoriented and breathless. What the hell?! Is the Wither... absorbing blocks?!

"Everyone stay calm! This foul beast is no match for me!" Gabriel declares, his voice booming with bravado as he lunges at the Wither. He strikes at the command block, but it deflects violently, sending him crashing to the ground. "Look at him, the mighty Gabriel! Looks like true greatness is out of his reach. He may not be able to defeat this creature, but I can!" Ivor exclaims, a smug grin spreading across his face.

"Creature, retreat!" He yells, desperation creeping into his tone. The growing Wither stares blankly, its glowing eyes unyielding. "Creature, retreat! Retreat, I said!" Ivor tries again, frustration building. "Ivor, what are you doing?!" Jesse yells, his voice rising above the chaos. "Uh, no need to be alarmed, my friends! I have an elixir that will destroy this creature!" Ivor sputters, producing a small purple potion from his pocket. My stomach sinks—it's the very one Axel stole, and he replaced it with the one in Ivor's hand! This can only go wrong. Ivor hurls the potion, and it shatters, but nothing happens.

"Uh, what? Impossible! It should have worked! I took such care!" Ivor's panic is palpable, his eyes darting around frantically. "The potion! Axel, you've gotta throw the real potion!" Olivia urges, her voice tight with urgency. "But finders keepers!" Axel argues defiantly.

"You thieves are ruining everything!" Ivor yells, frustration boiling over. "Axel, c'mon!" Olivia pleads, her expression pleading. Axel reluctantly produces the real vial of purple liquid, and Jesse snatches it from him. He throws it, but just as it nears the Wither, a mass of corrupted blocks envelops the command block, shielding it from impact. "It's protecting itself! Without the command block exposed, the potion is useless! It wasn't supposed to happen like this!" Ivor shouts, his voice cracking as he turns and runs, slipping from view.

"Let's go, Y/N!" Lukas yells, grabbing my hand as he pulls me away from the chaos. We dart out of the building just as the Wither breaks through the massive glass dome. A shrill sound echoes through the air, and purple tractor beams shoot out across the terrain, sucking up anything that dares enter their line of sight.

Panicked townspeople rush past us, their faces twisted in terror, as Lukas leads us onward. Wait... That's Jesse! "Lukas!" Jesse shouts, urgency lacing his words. "You guys just left me down there! Y/N was the only one who came back!" Anger fills Lukas's voice, raw and unyielding. "We were trying to warn Gabriel and get him to help!" Jesse insists, frustration evident in his posture. "He's right, Lukas! They did try to get help!" I interject, feeling the tension in the air. "Jesse!" a voice calls out, ringing over the panicked crowd. It's Petra! She's crouched behind a fence post with Olivia, Axel, and Reuben.

We rush toward them, but a tractor beam looms ominously overhead. It rips apart the blocks above us, and we bolt, adrenaline surging through my veins. "Wait! Wait, we have to stay together!" Jesse yells, but I turn around, my heart dropping. Oh no, Petra is caught in one of the tractor beams! Jesse reaches for her hand while grabbing a nearby fence post with his other. "I can't hold on!" He yells, panic-stricken.

"I'm coming! Hang on as tight as you can, guys!" I shout, sprinting toward them. The fence post cracks, splintering under the strain, but I reach out and grab Jesse's feet, anchoring them both. The Wither's beam releases its grip, and Jesse and Petra tumble to the ground, breathless. Gabriel, Axel, Olivia, Lukas, and Reuben rush to our side, relief washing over their faces.

"We still have everyone?" Jesse asks, his brows furrowed in concern. "We must set out for my fortress; we'll be better protected there!" Gabriel declares, taking off again. We all follow him, the tractor beam ripping apart buildings on either side of us. "Thanks for that just now, guys." Petra says, her voice steady despite the chaos. "Well, now we're even." Jesse nods, determination hardening his gaze. "Yeah, and now you guys owe me big time." I grunt, still sprinting, the weight of the situation pressing down on me.

"Alright, that's fair." Petra nods, glancing over her shoulder. The gate to the exit begins to close, and I duck beneath it just in time. "Stay together, everyone! We'll be safe as soon as we reach the fortress!" Gabriel yells urgently. We keep running, the woods outside of town coming into view. My house is somewhere near here; it’s going to get destroyed... Dammit! Focus on survival! A massive tree in front of us suddenly catches fire from a Wither projectile, the flames crackling hungrily. The group splits to either side of the inferno; Jesse veers right, and so do I.

We approach a large structure, probably Gabriel's fortress. I can see the imposing walls looming in the distance. We hurry through the doorway and descend a set of stairs. "The inner chamber is made entirely of obsidian. We should be untouchable in there." Gabriel explains, flicking a lever with urgency. The wall before us splits open, revealing a chamber glistening with obsidian.

Before any of us can react, a purple beam bursts through the entrance, flooding the room with ominous light. We dash inside without a second thought. "If you can get through the portal, you'll be safe!" Gabriel yells, battling a thick, black tentacle that lashes out like a snake. When did it grow tentacles?! Axel rushes toward the portal, but as he reaches for it, nothing happens.

"Something's not right here." Axel states, confusion knitting his brow. "It's not lit!" Olivia exclaims, her voice tinged with panic. Jesse pulls out a flint and steel from his pocket—how convenient. With a spark, the portal crackles to life, purple swirls erupting from the obsidian frame. "Everyone, get in! Now!" Petra yells, urgency lacing her voice. Axel scoops up Reuben and bolts through, followed closely by Olivia. Just as I take a step forward, a piercing shriek echoes behind us, freezing my blood.

Gabriel is struggling against the tentacle, unable to fight it off. "Gabriel!" Jesse yells, rushing toward him. Petra sprints after him, determination etched on her face. I pull my iron sword from my inventory, ready to defend. Lukas stands frozen, fear etching his features. "Lukas, stay behind me." I say firmly, and he nods, the panic in his eyes evident. Petra slices at a grasping tentacle, but more burst through the roof, and Lukas lets out a terrified scream. "Lukas! Not in my ear, please!" I hiss, irritation mixed with worry.

A tentacle inches closer, and I swipe at it, the blade barely making contact as it recoils. "You three, go through the portal and meet up with the others. I'll stay here and do whatever I can to help," Petra insists, her eyes fierce. "I'm not leaving without you!" Jesse argues, desperation creeping into his tone. "Jesse, the gang needs you! Go through the portal! If anything happens, I'll meet you guys at the temple." Petra urges, glancing back at Gabriel.

Suddenly, I see Gabriel caught in a beam! Petra dashes toward him, but another beam opens directly above her head. Jesse rushes to help Gabriel. Damn it! "Hold on, Petra!" I yell, bolting toward her. I reach for her just as a deafening noise fills the air. Jesse collides with me, sending me crashing into Lukas, and together, we tumble into the portal...

I slowly open my eyes, disoriented, everything sounding muffled, like I'm submerged underwater. A strange shimmering object waves in front of my face. I can hear muffled voices, but they’re indistinct. Finally, my hearing returns, and I spring to my feet, instinctively reaching for my sword, waving it frantically. "Whoa! Calm down! It's Jesse!" he yelps, hands raised defensively. I stop, lowering my weapon. "Oh! I'm sorry! Where are we? What happened?" I ask, confusion flooding my mind.

"We got smacked into the portal, and you were knocked unconscious for a minute," he explains, concern etching his features. "Hey, there's Petra!" Lukas says, pointing at the portal. It's making noises; someone is coming through.

"Come on, come on!" Jesse urges desperately.

I watch in stunned silence as Ivor falls through the portal, his figure crashing to the ground with a heavy thud. My eyes narrow, fury boiling in my chest. "You....." I mutter, barely able to contain the anger surging through me. Before anyone can react, a grotesque tentacle shoots through the portal, its thick, slick mass wrapping around Ivor's body with a sickening snap. The air fills with a low, guttural sound as the appendage retracts.

I seize Ivor by the collar, yanking him roughly off the ground before anyone can stop me. My grip tightens as I drag him toward the nearest lava pit, the sizzling sound of the molten rock rising in the tense silence between us. "Give me one damn good reason I shouldn't throw you in!" I snarl, my voice low and lethal, every word punctuated by the sound of my boots scraping across the stone.

"Wait, wait!" Ivor pleads, his voice shaking as his eyes dart to the lava. "Let's talk about this like civilized human beings!"

Axel’s disgusted voice breaks the tension. "You won’t do it. Enough with the threats, Ocelot."

I bare my teeth, the flames reflecting in my eyes. "Oh, you think I can't kill someone?" I hiss. "Trust me, Axel, I’ve killed people before, and I can gladly do it again. Look at me and tell me I won't drop his sorry ass in the lava."

Ivor’s eyes widen, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "There's nothing left up there, you know!" he shouts, voice trembling. "Nothing but that Wither Storm."

"Why are we wasting time on him?!" Axel snaps, his impatience edging his tone. "We need to find Petra!"

I hold Ivor over the seething pit, the heat licking at my skin, the crackling lava mocking his desperate pleas. "The girl! I saw her!" Ivor stammers, his gaze frantic as he wriggles in my grasp. "When I was running to the portal, I saw her! She was running in the opposite direction. Such bravery... though there's a fine line between bravery and stupidity." His words hang in the air, a mixture of admiration and condescension.

A low growl rumbles in my throat as I pull him even closer to the pit. "Watch your tongue, old man. Those words might just be your last."

Jesse’s voice cuts through the tension, soft but firm. "She’s going to make it."

Ivor laughs bitterly, his eyes flashing with something like regret. "You're concerned for your friend, it's admirable. But you don't realize—you're all in danger. Through that tunnel is a network of minecarts built by the Order of the Stone. It's your only way out. You wanted a reason to keep me alive? There you have it!"

I hesitate, the grip on his collar tightening before I reluctantly shove him away from the lava. He crashes to the ground with a grunt.

"As much as I hate to admit it, he might be right." Jesse murmurs, glancing at the others.

"Bravo for embracing the truth." Ivor sneers, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. But then, an unearthly screech cuts through the air, and a massive shadow looms over us.

I turn sharply, heart racing as the sound of something large and terrifying fills the air—a deep, guttural shriek that makes the very ground shake. A ghast materializes from the shadows, its red eyes glowing like twin embers, sending a chill down my spine.

"Let's get out of here!" Axel roars. The sound of footsteps and frantic movement fills the air as we sprint past pigmen, the heat and fire of the Nether intensifying with every step. The occasional snap of small flames crackling against the blackened stone rings out as we flee.

Finally, we spot it—a cluster of minecarts, standing like a lifeline in the chaos.

"This is what Ivor must have been talking about!" Olivia calls out, her voice full of both relief and disbelief.

We all scramble to get into the minecarts, the cold metal feeling oddly comforting against my skin as we begin to move, the clattering of the wheels against the tracks reverberating through the air.

"Hey Y/N, you weren't gonna kill Ivor, were you?" Lukas asks, his voice full of hesitation and curiosity, though there's an edge to it.

I glance at him, a shrug barely visible in my shoulders. "To be honest, I was. I've killed before, so it’s not difficult." My voice is flat, devoid of the emotion I should probably feel.

"Yeah, you mentioned that. You’ve killed humans before?" Lukas’s voice rises with a mix of disbelief and concern.

I shift uncomfortably in the cart. "Humans as in two. No more than that. I killed two humans. Big difference."

"Well... Who did you kill?" Lukas presses, his voice quiet but filled with a genuine need to know.

I stay silent, the weight of those memories crashing over me, heavy and suffocating. The minecarts continue to rattle forward, the rhythmic sound of wheels on tracks filling the void between us.

Axel’s voice suddenly breaks in, dripping with sarcasm. "Aw, how perfect. We’re stuck in the Nether with a killer! I knew we couldn’t trust you!"

"I'm not a killer!" My hands ball into fists. "I... I did it for a good reason." I mutter, my voice shaky, though I refuse to look at Axel.

"What reason could justify murder?!" Axel argues, his voice rising in anger.

I snap, my voice growing cold. "You don’t know anything about me! Or my family! So shut it! She was dying anyway! She asked me to end her suffering! And my father deserved what he got!" My words hang in the air, heavy with raw emotion, and I clench my jaw as I feel my chest tighten.

I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks as the tension crackles between us. I close my mouth, retreating into myself, burying deeper into the minecart as the world around us seems to grow heavier.

"Uh, guys..." Jesse’s voice, tentative and a little frantic, pulls me from my thoughts. "The railroads are splitting up!"

Timeskip

After what feels like an eternity of being tossed around in the minecart...

"Have you ever thrown up... inside your body?" Jesse asks as he stumbles out of the minecart, his voice strained with a mix of exhaustion and nausea.

"Uh-huh. I know because I just did. Five times." Olivia groans, her face pale and drawn.

"All the tracks converge at this point. We could probably get anywhere in the world from here," she continues, though her voice sounds distant, as if the excitement can’t mask her discomfort.

"There's the portal!" Jesse exclaims, his eyes lighting up as he spots the shimmering rift ahead.

"This is what Gabriel was talking about." Lukas grins, his earlier tension forgotten, replaced by the thrill of hope.

"That’s our way out." Axel exclaims with a relieved breath.

"We have no idea what we’re walking into." Jesse reminds us, his voice cautious as he glances toward the glowing portal.

"Alright, I’m going. I’m going right now." Axel declares, his voice full of determination.

"I’ll go first." Jesse insists, stepping forward.

"That’s not what I was saying!" Axel retorts, his frustration clear.

"I’m going." Jesse repeats, his voice firm as he steps through the portal without another word.

"Well, if you absolutely insist." Axel mutters, stepping back with a resigned sigh.

"See you guys on the other side." Jesse calls back before disappearing into the portal. We all wait in tense silence. Axel follows, then Lukas.

I hesitate. The portal flickers in front of me, and I step through, cautious but determined, wary of whatever awaits on the other side.

Chapter Text

I step out of the portal, the cold bite of water seeping into my boots, chilling my ankles as it rushes over the uneven stone floor beneath. The air smells damp, thick with the earthy scent of stone and moss. The cave is small, with jagged walls that curve inwards as if the rock itself is protecting us from the night. Stone steps lead upward, barely visible in the dim light.

"Where are we?" Olivia’s voice breaks the silence, sharp and uncertain as she takes her first steps up the slippery stairs, the sound of her boots echoing softly against the cavern’s walls.

"In the dark, in the middle of nowhere." Jesse mutters, his tone flat, as if speaking the truth is all he has left to offer.

"Maybe we should bed down for the night." Lukas suggests, his voice quieter now as if to avoid waking something that might be listening. "It’s dangerous out there, especially when it’s this dark."

"I thought we were heading toward a temple." Axel argues, his tone sharp, like he’s already getting impatient with the uncertainty.

"We’re looking for a giant building." Olivia responds, her eyes scanning the gloom ahead, "It should be obvious when we find it." She glances around, a frown pulling at her lips. "Ivor said—"

"Ivor said?" Axel interrupts, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Then maybe this is the temple, huh? You’re sure that’s what he meant?" His mockery hangs in the air, heavy and unwelcome.

"Axel, come on." Olivia urges, her tone firm but not unkind.

"We have to build shelter." Jesse says, cutting through the tension like a knife, his voice settling with the weight of authority.

"I thought that was what I said." Lukas shrugs, exasperated, yet his words are soft, as though he knows no one will really listen.

"You’re right." Olivia agrees, glancing at the others. "We should hurry. I say we build a treehouse. Something sturdy."

Axel shakes his head quickly, a huff of air escaping his nose. "That’ll take forever." he protests, "And we’ll be exposed the whole time. We just need a quick, dirty hut."

"Whatever we do, we gotta do it fast." Lukas agrees, looking up at the canopy, his gaze focused but restless.

"I’m with Olivia on this one." I say, my voice steady, and Olivia flashes me a brief, encouraging grin.

"No one asked for your opinion." Axel sneers, narrowing his eyes, his lip curling in distaste. "After all, you’re a murderer."

I stiffen at his words, my fists clenching at my sides, but I say nothing.

"Let’s go with the treehouse." Jesse says, voice clear and final. "It’ll keep us out of danger, and we can make it work."

"Fine." Axel grumbles, though there’s no real enthusiasm in his agreement. "Let’s get started, then."

We gather wood, dirt, and whatever materials we can find, moving quickly in the quiet of the cave, the low murmur of our footsteps, and the occasional rustling of leaves filling the air.

The construction is frantic but efficient. We start with the base, stacking the wood, and digging into the dirt until we’ve formed a shaky but functional shelter in the tree branches above. As the last plank is nailed into place, Axel grumbles, "If I wake up with a spider on my face, I’m expecting one of you to deal with it."

We climb the ladder into the treehouse, the creaky wood shifting under our weight. I gaze at the small fire we’ve lit in the center of the room, the flames crackling softly as they leap upward, casting shadows that dance across the rough-hewn walls. For a moment, I lose myself in the warmth and the sound, remembering the fire that consumed my old home. My chest tightens, and I look away, forcing my thoughts back into the present.

"Oh, man! I’ve got something to tell you." Axel announces suddenly, snapping me out of my reverie, his voice eager but low, "But you gotta promise not to freak out."

"What is it?" Jesse asks, leaning forward, his curiosity piqued.

Axel grins, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I’ve got cookies!" He pulls them out from his bag, handing one each to Olivia, Jesse, and Reuben. "Sorry Lukas, Y/N, I only have four."

Lukas shakes his head, laughing softly. "It’s fine." I add, forcing a smile. Reuben drops his cookie at Lukas’s feet, looking up at him with those big, round eyes.

"Thanks, Reuben." Lukas murmurs, bending to pick it up with a gentle smile.

Jesse stands and walks over to me, holding out his cookie with a kind but insistent look. "Take it."

I shake my head. "I had mutton at EnderCon. I’m good for now." I say, waving his hand away gently.

"I insist." Jesse presses, his expression softening, but I can see the stubbornness there.

"No, I don’t think you get it." I reply. "I’ve trained myself to go without food for days. You need it more. Keep your strength up."

Jesse hesitates for a moment, before nodding and sitting back down.

"That was for you, Jesse. Why’d you try to give it to them?" Axel’s voice cuts through the quiet, his words like a blade aimed at my chest.

I roll my eyes, the familiar tension with Axel settling in. "If you had to, which would you rather fight? A hundred chicken-sized zombies or ten zombie-sized chickens?" Olivia asks, her voice light, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Choose wisely!" Jesse adds, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Lukas grins. "Let me think." he replies, dramatically pausing as though weighing his options.

"How can you joke at a time like this?" Axel interrupts, his voice a sharp edge. "Petra’s still out there." His scowl deepens, pulling at his features.

"Petra wouldn’t want us to mope around." Jesse says, shrugging. "She’d want us to keep our spirits up."

Axel mutters under his breath, not fully convinced. "I don’t know. It feels wrong."

"Fine." Lukas says with a sigh, clearly exhausted. "We should get some rest. We need to find the temple early."

Axel cuts him off, his voice a growl. "What are you doing?"

Lukas looks back, his patience snapping. "Did I do something to you? You’ve been on me and Y/N’s case for no reason."

"Let’s figure this out in the morning." Jesse says, trying to play peacemaker, his voice calm, though I can see the strain in his posture.

Axel doesn’t back down. "You two are the only ones still wearing those stupid jackets." He spits, looking pointedly at me and Lukas. His eyes narrow, full of contempt.

Anger flares inside me, my blood boiling at his words. "Take that back." Lukas demands, his fists balling at his sides.

"I couldn’t. Wouldn’t." Axel sneers, his eyes cold and challenging.

I rise to my feet, stepping forward. "You know what? We get to wear these jackets because we know how to build. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to break things."

Axel scoffs, brushing us off. "Your threats don’t scare me."

"Besides." Axel says, leaning in with a sneer. "Why are you even still here? Run back to wherever killers crawl out from and leave everyone in peace." He glares at me, the malice in his voice unmistakable. "Probably destroyed because you decided to steal a potion, griefer." I hiss, matching Axel's hateful glare. 

"Axel, back off." Jesse says, his voice firm, attempting to restrain Axel’s angry movements. His grip on Axel’s arm tightens, his knuckles whitening.

"Haven’t you two done enough damage for one day?" Axel growls, his voice thick with frustration. His finger jabs into Lukas's chest with venomous intensity, and his fists ball at his sides. "Petra might be dead because of you." He spits, his eyes burning with accusation.

Lukas raises his hands in a placating gesture, taking a deep breath. "We don’t have to take this. Why don’t we just leave and let you guys hash this out?" He says, his voice trembling with a mix of exasperation and weariness.

I glance between Lukas and Axel, frustration bubbling beneath my skin. "Lukas! Think rationally. We can’t leave. Outside this treehouse is crawling with monsters, and beyond that, the Wither Storm. You didn’t let me walk out of Beacontown when I wanted to be a rogue again— I won’t let you walk out either. You're stuck with me, remember?" I grab his wrist firmly, my fingers locking around his as if I can tether him to this moment, to reality. The pressure of my grip sends a jolt through me, a desperate need for connection.

Lukas falters, hesitation flickering across his face before he finally relents. "I guess you're right." He mutters, his voice quiet as he stops in his tracks. I slowly release his wrist, letting it fall limp at his side as he sinks back into his seat.

Axel scoffs, his words dripping with disdain. “Oh, so you’re a murderer and a rogue? Wonderful. Do people like you even care or feel pain at all?" His sneer makes my blood boil, a dangerous heat rising in my chest.

Something inside me snaps—like a tightly wound spring uncoiling. My heart pounds in my ears, drowning out everything else as I turn to face him, eyes flashing with fury.

"I know you didn’t just ask me that. Do I feel pain? Do I feel pain?!" I bark, my voice rising as anger consumes me. I take a step toward Axel, the air thick with the heat of my breath. "Try watching your youngest sister on her deathbed, begging to die, knowing you can't do a damn thing to help! Try watching your father lose all his sanity, murder your mother in cold blood, and hunt you down like a wild animal—intending to do the same to you!" My voice cracks with the rawness of old wounds. My hands tremble, but I can’t stop myself. The words tumble out, unrestrained, reckless.

The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. The silence that follows is thick, pregnant with the weight of what I've just confessed. The room feels smaller. Axel’s expression falters—his eyes widen, the defiance in them slipping, replaced with something resembling shock. But there’s no going back now. I’ve said too much.

"Wait, what?!" Lukas stammers, his voice barely a whisper of disbelief as he nearly leaps to his feet, his gaze shifting between me and Axel.

"Forget I said anything." I mutter, my shoulders stiffening as I turn away from their questioning eyes.

"No. We're talking about this. You can't avoid it this time." Lukas demands, his voice rougher now, tinged with concern and suspicion. "What the hell happened to you while you were outside of Beacontown?" His words hit harder than I expected. I try to ignore the sudden tightening in my chest.

I let out a long sigh, the weight of what I’ve been holding back too much to bear. "You really wanna know? All of you?" I ask, my voice quiet but resolute. They nod. All of them. Even Axel, though his eyes flicker with something darker—pity? Condemnation? Maybe both. But it doesn’t matter.

"Fine." I grunt, sinking down onto the ground, the cold earth pressing against my legs. "I'll start from the beginning." I rub my hands together, feeling the dry callouses against my skin. "I lived outside of Beacontown with my mother, father, and two younger siblings. I was the oldest, and each family member had a role." I close my eyes for a moment, pulling the memories from the deepest corners of my mind.

"My mother went off to work every day. My youngest sister—she was just a kid, really—was supposed to tend to our animals. My brother, who was a little older, took care of the farm. And me? I was the one who went cave diving for coal and iron." I say, my voice lowering as I shift, the memory of those days feeling like they belong to someone else now.

"Then my father... he got obsessed. He found Wither sickness—thought he could cure it, y’know? Spent all his time trying. But one day, my sister... she wandered into his lab. Didn't know what she was doing. Got sick. Caught it." I swallow hard, the tightness in my throat making it hard to breathe. "She was four. I was seven, my brother was five. At first, it wasn’t bad. But it got worse. A lot worse. To the point where she couldn't even get out of bed. My mom—she made a little zombie plushie to keep her company. And my brother... my brother took on all the chores. I was the one who stayed with her, trying to keep her comfortable."

I pause for a moment, the pain of it all still so raw. I can feel the heat of the tears pricking at the back of my eyes, but I hold them in.

"My father... he was so desperate. He couldn't sleep. He started to—he started to lose himself." I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Then he caught it too. And everything... everything fell apart." My chest tightens, the words barely escaping through the knot in my throat.

"Then one day, my sister, she couldn't take it anymore. She begged me... begged me to end her suffering." My hand clenches into a fist, nails biting into the palm. "I gave her a fast-acting poison. So she wouldn't feel a thing." The words taste bitter on my tongue. "And then... my father changed. He became violent. Destructive. Nothing mattered except finding a cure." My voice wavers as I try to push the image of my father’s rage from my mind.

"One day, I came home... and I found her. My mother. She was..." I choke on the words, but I push through. "I found her body on the floor. My father... he was standing over her, his hands covered in blood."

I feel the cold of the room against my skin, but inside, it’s burning. The anger surges again, uncontrollable. "He slammed my head against the wall. I bled. Tried to run, but he threw an anvil at me." The memory is so vivid that I can almost feel it—heavy and crushing. "I ran, but he set the bookcases on fire. I was choking on my own blood. I wanted to die. But he pulled a sword on me." I look down at my hands, the blood of that day still staining my soul. "I fought back. I hit him with my pickaxe. I kept hitting him until he bled. I collapsed. And I woke up... in a hospital. Didn’t even know how I got there."

I stop, my chest heaving as I try to steady my breath. It feels like the weight of my past is crashing down on me all over again. But I push through.

"I ran after that. Built my own house. Stayed out of sight. Until I found Lukas in the woods one night." I finish, the last words falling heavy on the silence.

Lukas looks at me with a mixture of regret and understanding. "You were hurt. I took you in, nursed you back to health." He says, his voice soft, the weight of the memory evident in his tone. "When you were going to leave, you got attacked by a pack of wolves... and I took you to the hospital. That was when I made you promise we'd stick together. And now... now I know why you were so distant."

I drop my gaze to the fire, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. "So, Axel... yeah, I killed two people. My father, and my sister. If you think that doesn’t haunt me day and night, you’re wrong. I can’t look at flames without thinking of that house. I can’t see a zombie without seeing her. I haven’t had a restful night since she died. So, call me whatever you want, but don’t say I don’t feel pain. You don’t know what pain is."

Axel doesn’t speak. He only looks at me with shame—real, raw shame—painting his face. I can see it in the way his shoulders sag, in the way his gaze shifts downward, unable to meet mine.

"I'm going to bed." I mutter, rolling over and turning my back to the group. I can’t face them right now.

"They've got the right idea. I'm going to sleep too." Lukas nods, the faint sound of his blanket rustling as he settles down. "Agreed." Olivia's voice follows, softer than usual, as if she's already halfway between the waking world and dreams. I hear shuffling behind me, the low murmur of conversation dying out as everyone settles into the makeshift camp, the crackling of the fire punctuating the quiet. Looks like everyone is going to sleep.

An uncertain amount of time later...

Ugh, why can't I sleep? Not that I want to, not with the nightmares that have been haunting me lately, but still, the restless tossing and turning is frustrating. The flickering firelight casts long shadows across the camp, crackling and popping as if it too is unsettled by the stillness. I turn, my eyes fixed on the dancing flames. "Can't sleep?" Jesse's voice cuts through the silence, surprisingly calm, like he’s still awake, still alert. I hadn’t realized he was watching me.

"It isn’t the first time I've unintentionally pulled an all-nighter." I mutter, a bitter chuckle slipping past my lips. "I’ll manage. What are you still doing awake?" I ask, my voice carrying just enough weight to sound like an inquiry but not quite demanding an answer.

"Thinking." He responds simply, his voice softer than usual, contemplative. "If you were alone for so long... how did you manage?"

The question hangs in the air for a moment. I stare into the fire, watching the embers glow and flicker. "At first, I was stumbling around blindly. Looking for someone, or anything, to tell me what to do. But as the weeks dragged on, I learned. I hardened my mind and spirit." I pause, the memory of those lonely days coming back sharply. "Built a house. Planted a farm." I add, though it feels like a lifetime ago.

"It had to have been lonely." Jesse’s voice is low, almost reverent, as if he's not just speaking to me, but to the vast emptiness I must have felt.

"It was." I agree quietly, my fingers absently tracing the outline of a stone at my side. "You don’t know how many times I wandered into the woods in the dead of night, hoping a zombie or monster would just end it. Hoping something would come to take me away. Nothing ever did, though." I swallow hard, trying to push past the rawness of it all. "That’s actually what I was going to do when I found Lukas."

We fall into silence, the air thick with unspoken words. I feel the weight of his gaze, though I don't look up. Wait... he's shaking.

"You cold or something?" I ask, breaking the stillness, my voice a little more pointed than I intended.

"It's just a little chilly." Jesse responds, trying to brush it off, but his teeth are chattering, betraying him.

I don’t wait for him to make a move. "Move closer to the fire and curl up into a ball. It'll keep you warmer." I suggest, turning my back to him again, my shoulders tense as I try to focus on the flickering flames.

A few minutes later...

I can still hear his shivering, a soft rattling noise in the otherwise quiet night. I turn to the fire again, my mind unwilling to settle. "Jesse, you still awake?" I ask quietly, almost too softly, as if testing the air for a response.

"Yeah." He murmurs, his voice muffled by his teeth still chattering.

I groan in frustration. "Ugh, come on. Get over here." I order, the words slipping out before I can think better of them.

"Wait, what? Why?" He sounds genuinely confused, but I can hear the hesitation in his voice like he’s considering it.

"I can hear your teeth chattering from here. And if you get any closer to that fire, you'll catch ablaze. I'll warm you up." I shrug, though I can’t see him. "Besides, I don’t want to give Axel any more reasons to hate me for letting you freeze to death."

Jesse doesn’t argue, and with a soft sigh, he gets up, the rustling of his blanket almost inaudible against the night. He lies next to me, on his back, and I roll onto my back as well, feeling the slight warmth of his presence against the cool air.

"The stars look peaceful... if you forget the whole Wither Storm and death around every corner." Jesse chuckles softly, and I snort in amusement, the sound fleeting and light, like a breath of wind.

"Don't get sentimental on me now." I tease, though the words feel almost too sharp, too defensive.

"I'm not." He replies, the words floating in the air between us like a delicate whisper. "I gotta say... I kind of admire you."

My face flushes instantly. "Huh?! Why?!" I exclaim, turning toward him in confusion.

"Well..." He begins, his voice quiet now, almost reluctant. "After what you told us... you've been through a lot, and yet here you are. Still standing, still trying to help. You're actually a nice person, deep down."

I feel a pang of disbelief in my chest. "Did you hit your head on that minecart ride or something? You shouldn't admire me. I’m not a nice person. I’ve killed people. I’m not the type of person you should admire." I roll onto my side, facing him fully, my eyes hardening.

Jesse shrugs, his voice steady as he counters, "Don’t let Axel get under your skin. He's not as open-minded as the rest of us. Besides, one person you killed was mercy, the other was self-defense. You can’t be sure your father’s dead."

"I know he’s dead." I snap, my voice sharp. "Because if that pickaxe didn’t kill him, his sickness did. And ending someone’s suffering doesn’t justify murder." My words feel like they’re slipping from my lips before I can stop them, bitterness leaking into my tone.

After a beat, Jesse argues again, his voice gentler now. "After all that’s happened, you can’t see that what happened wasn’t your fault? I don’t know you very well, but even I can see you cared about your sister enough to grant her request. And attacking your father was self-defense. That doesn’t make you to blame. Honestly, it sounds like you were a victim of circumstance."

I sigh, frustrated and tired. "Look, I’m not gonna argue with you. Get some sleep. And if you tell anyone about me doing this for you, you’re dead." I growl the last part, my tone low and serious, though I can’t help but feel the slight warmth of his body next to me, calming in its own way.

"Noted. My lips are sealed." Jesse replies with a casual shrug, though I can hear the faint amusement in his voice.

We both roll onto our sides, facing away from each other, though his arm brushes lightly against my waist. I feel the weight of his presence beside me, the quiet hum of the world spinning around us. The fire crackles faintly in the background, its orange glow illuminating the darkness, the heat an almost tangible comfort in the cool night.

"Goodnight." Jesse mutters softly, the words almost lost in the quiet.

I watch the fire dance for a moment, its flickering flames casting fleeting shadows over the ground before my eyelids grow heavy. With the warmth of his arm still lingering and the fire crackling gently beside me, I finally drift off to sleep.

Chapter Text

The darkness fades as I slowly blink my eyes open. The world is still steeped in shadow—the sun hasn’t yet begun its ascent. The air is crisp, carrying the lingering chill of the night. I shift slightly, feeling the warmth beside me slip away as Jesse’s arm slides off my waist. He mumbles something incoherent in his sleep but doesn’t stir further. I take a slow breath, stretching the stiffness from my limbs as I sit up.

The treehouse is quiet, save for the soft breathing of my companions. Everyone is still asleep. I’m not surprised—I’ve always been the first to wake. It’s a habit ingrained in me from my years alone. Even without the pressing danger, my body refuses to let me sleep in. Strangely enough, I didn’t have any bad dreams this time. That’s... rare. I can’t even remember the last time I had a dreamless sleep.

I rise to my feet, careful to avoid the creaking wooden planks as I step around the treehouse. A gentle breeze slips through the gaps in the walls, brushing against my face and rustling my hair. The horizon begins to shift from a deep navy to soft hues of pink and orange, bleeding across the sky like watercolor on canvas. The first rays of dawn stretch over the land, chasing away the night.

"Wake up." I grunt, nudging Jesse’s shoulder. He barely reacts, just groaning and rolling over to his other side. I pinch the bridge of my nose. Of course. If he won’t wake up willingly…

I unsheathe my iron sword and bring the butt of the hilt down onto Jesse’s stomach.

"Oof!" He yelps, jolting awake and scrambling to his feet like a startled cat.

"Good morning, sleepyhead! Did you forget we’re being chased by a super-powered wither?! Help me get your friends up." I say, already moving toward Lukas.

Lukas stirs as I shake him gently. His eyes flutter open, groggy and unfocused. "Oh... good morning."

"Hey, sleeping beauty. C’mon, it’s time to get up." I tease, and he groans quietly, running a hand through his disheveled blond hair.

"Alright." He sighs, getting to his feet. The others wake in a similar fashion—Olivia and Axel stretching with drowsy grumbles while Reuben is the last to stir, letting out a sleepy oink before nudging Jesse’s leg.

We crawl out of the makeshift treehouse, the cool morning air crisp against my skin as we begin moving. The group is quiet at first, still shaking off the last remnants of sleep. Lukas ends up next to Axel, but Axel pointedly speeds up to walk beside Olivia instead. I slide into the vacant spot beside Lukas.

"You okay?" I ask.

Lukas scoffs, rubbing the back of his neck. "After last night, I could ask you the same thing. No wonder you were so secretive about your past."

I stay silent. His words linger, heavier than I’d like.

Then, Lukas smirks, full of mischief.  "Hey, I have a question. How warm was Jesse?"

My face heats up instantly, a red hue spreading across my face in record time. "Wha-?! How did you know about that?! Did he tell you?!" I exclaim, flustered.

"Nope, I have my ways." He shrugs, waggling his eyebrows.

I glare at him with embarrassment and disdain. "Not. A. Word. Got it?!"

He nods, amusement dancing in his bright blue eyes. Then, abruptly, he stops walking. I furrow my brows. "What are you doing?"

"Are you two okay?" Jesse asks, catching up to us.

"It was a rough night." Lukas admits roughly, rubbing his neck.

Jesse’s expression softens. "It happens. We were all tired and... I’m just glad you guys are okay."

"Thanks for being so cool about it." Lukas grins, stretching his arms above his head.

"Cool beans." Jesse replies with a small smile before walking ahead.

Lukas suddenly scrambles up a dirt mound, shielding his eyes from the rising sun. "Hey guys! There’s something over there! Some kind of building!"

We all follow his gaze. Sure enough, a structure looms in the distance. The sun’s golden light catches on stained glass embedded in the ruins, forming the shape of an amulet.

"What are we waiting for? Let’s go!" Jesse exclaims, leading the way.

The temple is ancient, its stone walls cracked and weathered by time. Nature has begun reclaiming it, vines creeping along its foundation. As we step closer, uncertainty settles over the group like a thick fog.

"What is this place?" Axel asks, eyes scanning the towering stonework with curiosity.

"That’s what we’re trying to figure out." Olivia responds.

"It’s the Temple of The Order of The Stone!" Lukas announces, eyes alight with realization.

"Lukas, are you sure?" Olivia questions, raising an eyebrow.

"He’s right. Look!" Jesse pulls a colored amulet from his pocket. The stained glass perfectly matches the symbol in front of us, and the five colors of the amulet are identical. 

"Do you think they’re in there?" Olivia asks, glancing at Jesse with a hint of nervousness.

"Let’s go in and find out!" Axel suggests excitedly, practically bursting at the seams.

"Let’s just all be careful." Jesse warns, determination and caution in his tone. I nod, following Jesse inside.

The walls are lined with dispensers carved into eerie, grinning faces. The sight makes my skin crawl. It's like they're watching us, waiting for one of us to take a single misstep.

"Isn’t it weird how dispensers are carved to look like spooky little faces? What do you dispense, little guy?" Axel mutters, an amused expression on his chubby face.

"I get the feeling I don’t wanna find out." Olivia whispers quietly, as if she spoke too loud they would activate.

"Get behind me." Jesse orders, taking the lead. The moment he steps forward, a click echoes through the chamber.

Reuben squeals in alarm as the floor shifts beneath us. A gate slams shut behind us.

Then, the dispensers come to life.

"Run!" Jesse yells as arrows begin firing from the walls.

I yank out my sword, sprinting forward and knocking arrows aside. Pain explodes in my shoulder and ribs just as I reach the end of the barrage. I stagger slightly, gritting my teeth.

"You okay?! Ouch." Lukas eyes my injuries warily.

"What? What is i—" I glance down. Two arrows protrude from my shoulder and side. "Just ignore it." I mutter, brushing the burning pain aside.

"Hey, there’s a crafting table!" Jesse calls out, pointing to it.

Blood seeps from my wounds, staining my clothes. My vision swims slightly, but I shove it down with gritted teeth. "What can we craft? All of our tools are back home!" Olivia exclaims, concern creeping into her voice.

"Everyone! Empty your pockets!" Jesse barks, glancing at all of us.

I yank the arrows from my wounds with a sharp breath. Blood drips onto the stone floor as I toss them into the pile. Jesse gathers materials, crafting a bow, and shooting the pressure plate we originally triggered. The dispensers fall silent.

The group cheers, but my head grows light. The room tilts—no, I’m tilting.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay? You’re turning pale—Wait! You’re bleeding! Maybe you should—"

"Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do! I’ve survived by myself for years! I’ll be fine... As soon as... the room stops spinning..."

Darkness swallows me as Jesse’s panicked voice fades into the void.

. . .

When I wake again, soft light filters through gaping holes in the ceiling. My side aches, but my wounds have been wrapped with vines, acting as makeshift bandages. I groan, slowly sitting up. My jacket lies beside me, torn and stained with dried blood.

I hear voices nearby—Olivia speaking with someone else. As I approach, Olivia chats animatedly with a woman clad in red and gold armor, the metallic sheen catching the flickering torchlight. Her polished breastplate gleams, though scuffs and scratches hint at battles past. Something about her... seems familiar. Olivia notices me and gasps audibly.

"Oh! You're awake! I'll go get Lukas!" She squeals, practically bouncing before dashing off. Her footsteps echo down the stone hallway, fading rapidly.

Silence settles between me and the woman. She shifts her weight, crossing her arms over her armored chest, clearly unused to awkward small talk.

"So, you're awake." She finally says, her voice carrying a slight hesitation.

"Yeah. What happened? And who are you?" I ask, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh! Right!" She straightens slightly, as if realizing she forgot something important. "Olivia tells me you've been unconscious since you guys arrived. Apparently, you got caught in one of the arrow traps I set up a long time ago." She rubs the back of her neck with uncertainty. "My name is Ellegaard. Who are you?"

"Y/N. Pleasure." I shrug, sizing her up.

The sharp features, the piercing gaze—where have I seen her before?

"I hate to confuse you more, but I swear I recognize you." Ellegaard admits, mirroring my thoughts.

"Weird. I was thinking the same thing. But we haven’t met before." I reply, tilting my head.

"I know. It’s déjà vu or somethi—"

Before she can finish, I'm suddenly yanked into a tight embrace. A warm, familiar scent of earth and sweat fills my nose as Lukas clutches me like a lifeline.

"You’re awake! I’m so glad! How do you feel?! Are you okay?" He asks, gripping me with surprising strength.

"Whoa! One question at a time!" I wince, trying to pry myself free. "I’m fine, but why is Ellegaard here? No offense, but last I checked, we were still looking for members of The Order." I glance at Ellegaard apologetically.

"Oh yeah. Well, Jesse was able to use the amulet to track Magnus and Ellegaard. He went after Magnus with Axel, and Olivia went to find Ellegaard. I was left to guard the place." Lukas explains, puffing his chest out slightly in pride.

Okay, that makes... a little more sense.

"Oh! Gabriel's back too!" Lukas exclaims suddenly, eyes lighting up.

"What?" My stomach drops slightly, and now we're back to 'I'm sorry, what?'

"Gabriel showed up not too long before you woke up. He escaped the Wither Storm and found the temple." Lukas explains.

I turn my head sharply, scanning the room. In the dim lighting, I spot a figure sitting in the corner. Gabriel. His usually commanding presence is dampened, his posture slouched as if exhaustion weighs heavily on him. Sensing my gaze, he stands and approaches with slow, deliberate steps.

"Hello. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. You’re one of Jesse’s friends, correct?" He asks, his voice even but laced with fatigue.

I nod. "My name is Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you and The Order." I reply, matching his polite tone.

A small, weary smile tugs at his lips, but it vanishes as a violent cough wracks his body. He turns away, gripping his side as he struggles to suppress it.

"Hey, how are those vines holding up?" Ellegaard asks, concern flickering in her eyes.

"Hmm? Oh, they’re good. I’m not bleeding anymore. Whose idea was it?" I ask.

"Gotta be honest, after you fell unconscious, Jesse was the first to reach you." Lukas explains, his voice quieting as if recalling a particularly intense memory. "You were bleeding all over the place, and your face was pale. Even Axel freaked out a bit at the sight of blood. Thankfully, Olivia thought quickly and grabbed some vines to stop the bleeding. Even so, the bleeding didn’t completely stop. We were all wondering if you were gonna make it. Jesse was stuck to your side. He almost didn’t leave to find Magnus."

"Really?" I blink, caught off guard. I glance at Olivia, who shuffles her feet awkwardly under the sudden attention. "Thanks, Olivia. You probably saved my life. I owe you one." I offer her a small smile.

"Oh! Don’t worry about it!" Olivia waves a hand, a bit flustered under the sudden attention.

A thought nags at me. "I have a question. Why save me? Why would Jesse almost postpone the mission for me?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"You and Lukas are part of our group now, like it or not. We’re all in this together." Olivia explains matter-of-factly.

"Besides, I won’t let you die. Not to some stupid arrow trap." Lukas grumbles, almost pouting.

"Okay, I get it! Stop being so mushy and emotional! The moment’s over!" I grunt, turning away.

"Anddd... they’re back." Olivia giggles.

I bend down, picking my jacket up from the ground and slipping it on.

The Next Day...

"I told you, I can still fight!" I argue, gripping my sword arm tightly.

"Not in the state you’re in!" Lukas snaps. "You have vines around your shoulder and ribs as bandages! How can you still claim you can fight?!"

"I’ve fought in worse shape than this! Give me back my sword!" I hiss, glaring daggers at him.

Lukas, the little thief/mother hen, stole my sword after catching me practicing with it. Now, he's trying to give me a lecture on rest.

"No! You’ll get this back when you rest and those wounds heal!" Lukas protests, holding the sword out of my reach.

"We’re on a time-sensitive mission! The group can’t afford that luxury right now! How am I supposed to help when you won’t give me the one thing I can use to defend myself?!" My voice rises in frustration.

Lukas stays silent, his gaze falling to the ground for a moment, unable to come up with a sharp response.

"Fine! I’ll just punch the monsters to death." I shrug nonchalantly.

"No! No fighting at all!" Lukas argues, exasperated.

A smirk tugs at my lips. "How about I show you how well I can fight in this condition?!"

"Wait, wha—?"

I cut him off with a strong right hook to the jaw. The impact echoes through the room with a dull thud. Lukas stumbles back, dropping my sword in shock. The blade clatters to the ground, the sound of metal hitting stone echoing through the room. I snatch it up before he can recover, gripping the handle tightly despite the sharp protest of pain shooting through my ribs.

Lukas clutches his jaw, a fresh bruise already forming. His blue eyes widen in a mix of pain and disbelief.

"Now, I’m fighting. End of discussion. Take my sword from me again, and I’ll shove it so far down your throat it goes out your ass!" I growl, glaring at him.

Lukas clenches his jaw. "Fine, I won’t fight you on it. I’m going to keep watch." With that, he turns and walks off.

A few minutes later, the sound of multiple footsteps fills the room, growing louder. Voices murmur amongst themselves. Soon, figures emerge from the stairwell—Axel, Jesse, Gabriel, Reuben, Lukas, and a man I assume to be Magnus.

"Hey guys." I greet them with a small wave.

"Y/N! You’re awake!" Jesse exclaims before sweeping me into a crushing hug. Reuben lets out an excited squeal, his little pink body rushing toward me and rubbing against my leg.

"Hey! Let go, or your face will end up like Lukas’s!" I yelp.

"Wait, what? You did that to Lukas? Why?" Jesse asks, pulling back in surprise.

"He tried to take my sword and said I wasn’t allowed to fight." I deadpan flatly.

Lukas huffs, his blonde hair rustling slightly. "Y’know, that makes you sound like a spoiled child. No wonder your father went crazy!"

Silence.

My grin vanishes. My entire body goes rigid.

Lukas slaps a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with horror. "I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I—"

"You have three seconds to run." My voice drops into a chilling calm.

Lukas freezes in place, like a deer caught in headlights.

"1..." I start.

"Jesse, your friend isn’t serious, right?" Magnus asks.

"2..."

"Lukas, you might wanna run while you still have the chance." Jesse suggests uneasily.

"3!"

Keeping my word, I charge at him.

Before I can reach him, a rough hand snatches my arm, yanking me backward with brute force. The impact sends a jolt of pain through my already aching body, rattling my sore ribs. The grip is like iron, unyielding and firm.

"Calm down." Axel warns, his deep voice laced with both irritation and restraint. "As much as I would love to watch you two tear each other to shreds, we don't have time for this."

I thrash against his hold, my nails clawing at the air like a wild animal caught in a trap. My breaths come sharp and ragged, fury bubbling under my skin like hot molten lava. "Let me go, you big brute! I'll kill him!" I snarl, baring my teeth.

Axel remains silent, his grip steady despite my struggle.

A sudden, searing pain erupts in my shoulder and ribs, sharp as a dagger twisting in an open wound. The agony is blinding, stealing the air from my lungs. I stiffen, my movements faltering as a strangled yelp escapes me. My vision wavers at the edges.

"Axel, I think you're hurting them!" Lukas pleads, worry laced in his voice.

Axel hesitates before releasing me, and I stagger forward, clutching my shoulder. My fingers dig into the tangled vines wrapped around the wound, sticky with dried blood. Each breath feels like a knife stabbing between my ribs.

"What's wrong with your friend, Jesse?" Magnus asks, arms crossed as he eyes me with something between amusement and mild concern.

"They got caught on one of the arrow traps on the bottom floor." Jesse explains, shifting uncomfortably. "That's why there are vines on their shoulder and ribs."

"Huh. Amateur mistake." Magnus scoffs, visibly unimpressed.

My blood boils at the remark. I snap my head up and glare at him, gesturing sharply to Lukas’s bruised face. "You want a bruise twice the size of his on your face, asshole?!"

Magnus raises an eyebrow, barely fazed. "Like you could in that condition. Don't be an idiot. Listen to your friend. You're not in any shape to fight—a blind man could see that."

I grit my teeth, frustration mounting as I push past him. "I'll do what I want. My health isn't the number one priority. Beating that Wither Storm is."

Magnus exhales through his nose, clearly wanting to say more, but he doesn’t press the argument. Then, his gaze shifts past me, his entire posture stiffening. His expression darkens like a dark storm cloud rolling in.

"What... is she doing here?!" He demands, jabbing a finger toward Ellegaard.

Oh great. I let out a slow, exasperated sigh. They don’t like each other. This is going to be fucking fantastic.

Chapter Text

Gabriel mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the distant howling wind. "This isn't going to go well."

Lukas exhales sharply before speaking up. "I forgot to mention, Olivia went on a little... expedition of her own while you were gone."

Magnus narrows his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. "And this Olivia person... came back with her? Did you know about this?" Magnus grumbles, glancing at Jesse expectantly.

Jesse shrugs, glancing over at the two approaching figures. "Olivia's a friend of mine. I didn't know she was going to recruit Ellegaard."

Magnus scoffs, his tone laced with stubborn defiance. "Well, I certainly don't have anything to say to her!"

Before Jesse can respond, Olivia's excited voice rings out. "Jesse! Look! I found Ellegaard!" She practically bounces on her heels, eyes gleaming with pride.

Jesse nods, setting his jaw in determination. "I'll figure this out." He steps forward, heading toward Olivia and Ellegaard.

I linger for a moment before wordlessly peeling away from Lukas, my footsteps echoing faintly against the stone floor as I retreat to the shadowed corner of the room. The air feels heavy with tension, thick enough to choke on. Magnus, on the other hand, strides right up to Jesse, his presence practically crackling with energy.

"Oh, hooray! It's Ellie! And here I was just starting to enjoy myself." Magnus sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ellegaard's lips curl in irritation as she crosses her arms. "Hello, Magnus. Your voice is as pleasant as I remember, which is to say not at all."

Magnus clutches his chest in mock pain, his calloused fingers pressing against where his heart should be. "Ah! My feelings. Is that the same wit you're gonna use to save the world?"

Ellegaard's glare sharpens. "Why? You here to tell me how to do it better?"

"Oh! I would never dream of doing that!" Magnus snarls, his voice rising in volume.

I watch the exchange, raising an eyebrow. Those two must be ex-lovers or something—no one but exes argue like that.

"Hey, that's Ellegaard you're talking to. Show her some respect!" Olivia snaps, stepping forward with a protective stance.

Magnus rolls his eyes. "Wow. You finally found yourself a live one!"

Wow, that was uncalled for. I stiffen, but before I can say anything, Jesse's voice booms through the room. "Would you all cut it out?! You're all acting like crazy people!" His frustration silences everyone.

He takes a steadying breath before continuing, "Can we please focus on the bigger picture? We have a very hungry Wither Storm in the process of turning the whole world into its dinner."

Magnus exhales through his nose, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, I'll admit. That thing looked real nasty. And I've seen some real nasty stuff."

Ellegaard scoffs, rolling her eyes in disdain. "Too much for you, was it? Your usual brutish approach didn't cut it?"

Magnus' expression hardens in an instant. "Hey! You weren't there, alright? You didn't see how this thing tore everything apart!"

"This arguing isn't helping anything. If we wanna stop that thing, we need some serious firepower." Jesse interjects.

Gabriel, who had remained silent up until now, nods. "Jesse speaks the truth. We must find a way to defeat that monster."

Ellegaard surveys the room, her gaze calculating. "I don't know if you've looked around yet, but this place isn't nearly the fortress it used to be. Most of our supplies are gone. Not to mention we're down a fighter." She turns to me pointedly.

I hold her stare with an ice-cold expression. "How many times do I have to say it? My health isn't a top priority right now. Besides, I can still fight as well as any of you in this state."

Olivia's expression hardens with concern. "You need to rest. Don't fight unless absolutely necessary. Let your wounds heal a little before charging into battle."

I exhale sharply, tension coiling in my shoulders, but I don't argue further.

Magnus suddenly claps his hands together. "All I know is it would take a mountain of TNT to kill that thing."

Ellegaard, to my surprise, nods. "I hate to say it, but you have a point."

Jesse's eyes light up, an idea striking him. "Can we start crafting some?"

Magnus frowns, his shoulders slumping. "I don't think we have that kind of time. Even if we had all the TNT from miles around, I don't think it would be enough."

Ellegaard strokes her chin thoughtfully. "If only Soren were here, he might have something we can use."

Magnus groans audibly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Oh Ellie, not this again."

"Something stronger than TNT?" Jesse asks, intrigued.

Ellegaard nods. "Soren had a kind of super TNT. Stronger and more explosive than anything else in the world."

Gabriel murmurs under his breath, almost reverently. "The Formidi Bomb."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've heard all about the F-bomb before." Magnus groans, waving a dismissive hand.

Jesse's determination solidifies. "Well, the Formidi Bomb sounds perfect! We should go get it now!"

Gabriel frowns slightly. "There's a little problem with that. We don't know where Soren is. He's been missing for years. But, you found Magnus and Ellegaard. Maybe you can find Soren the same way."

"Our map could locate him—unless he's in the Nether or The End." Ellegaard suggests.

Jesse clenches his fists. "We can find him, I'm sure of it."

The room falls into a brief silence as everyone disperses to their own corners. Jesse approaches me. "Hey, how do you feel?"

I scoff. "Mentally or physically?"

"Both." 

"Mentally, fine—just frustrated with this whole situation. Physically? Nothing's changed since five minutes ago. Still got stabbed by some arrows." I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest.

Jesse's gaze flickers to the vines wrapped around my arms. "You should try resting for a while. Those wounds won't heal otherwise. You shouldn't push yourself."

I grit my teeth in annoyance and frustration. "I'm getting really sick of hearing that. I know my limits, I'm not pushing anything. Besides, I refuse to sit around and be useless when I am perfectly capable of fighting. All of us have to pull our own weight, including me. Injury or no injury."

Jesse studies me for a long moment before finally asking the question that seems to have been weighing on him. "I have to ask, why does this mean so much to you? What's causing you to refuse a break?"

I inhale deeply, my heart pounding. "If it's personal, forget I asked." Jesse adds quickly, raising his hands in surrender.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. To be honest, I wasn't able to defend my sister from her disease, or my family from my father. I could barely even defend myself from him. I never want to be that powerless ever again. I never want to watch someone I care about get hurt because of my weakness again. I can't... No, I won't let it happen again."

Jesse remains silent, unsure of what to say. I clear my throat awkwardly. "You should probably start tracking Soren with that map. We don't have much time."

Jesse nods, walking away. As he flicks a lever, the map illuminates, casting colored beacons across its surface. My stomach tightens in confusion as a new light flickers on. Dark blue.

"Blue? That's Ivor!" Jesse exclaims, his voice high-pitched.

The light moves rapidly across the thin paper of the torn map.

"He's heading for Soren's! We need to move!" Ellegaard demands, her tone filled with warning.

"He's not too far, we can probably make it on foot!" Jesse suggests, his voice laced with urgency.

"Perfect. We can wake up tomorrow morning and travel with a full day of sunrise." Ellegaard shrugs, folding her arms.

"Uh, and risk that thing catching up with us? I think I've had enough Wither Storm for one day, thank you very much." Magnus argues, throwing his hands up.

"Because getting caught in the dark is so much better." Ellegaard fires back, narrowing her eyes.

Jesse exhales sharply. "Listen, I don't want the Wither Storm catching up with us. We should go now."

Magnus nods in agreement. "Ugh, fine." Ellegaard relents, albeit reluctantly.

The moment we step outside, a cool breeze washes over my face, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant smoke. Above us, the moon hangs low, its dim glow barely cutting through the shadows stretching across the landscape. The arrow traps from earlier remain disabled, their mechanisms lifeless in the silence.

We move in a tense, unspoken agreement, our footsteps crunching softly against the dirt. The quiet feels uneasy, too fragile after everything we've just been through.

"Hey, um... Y/N?" Lukas's voice breaks the silence, hesitant.

I glance at him curiously. "What?"

"What's wrong with Gabriel?" Lukas keeps his voice low, but there's concern in his gaze. His blue eyes flicker to Gabriel, full of worry.

I steal a glance at Gabriel, who trudges ahead, his movements sluggish. "I don't know, but he seems off." I admit.

A guttural moan cuts through the night. It could only be one thing. Zombies.

The groans swell into a chorus, joined by the eerie clicks of spiders and the distant clatter of bones. Shapes emerge from the darkness—hunched figures, glowing eyes, and the glint of arrow tips catching the moonlight.

"This is what I was worried about! And why we should have waited!" Ellegaard exclaims, her fists clenched.

"We can talk about it later!" Jesse yells, unsheathing his blade. "We have some monsters to fight!"

Adrenaline surges through me as I grip my sword and charge. My blade sinks into the rotting flesh of a zombie, its putrid stench filling my nose. I yank it free just in time to spot a creeper slithering closer. With a flick of my wrist, I hurl my sword. It strikes true—POOF. The creeper explodes into smoke.

But so does my weapon.

Damn it. I was joking about fighting with my fists, but here we go.

"It'll be light soon! We'll be okay!" Jesse shouts, sprinting forward.

We bolt after him, weaving through the swarm of mobs, dodging arrows, and ducking beneath swinging claws. The ground slopes upward—a hill. We scramble to the top.

A door. Embedded in the mountainside.

It looms ahead, a thick slab of stone with no visible handle. But as we approach, it slides open with a deep, mechanical groan, revealing a pristine quartz path leading into a massive, cavernous space.

"Does Soren really live down here? It's so far from... anyone." Lukas murmurs, peering inside.

I barely hear him. My mind flickers to my father—how he hid away for secrecy, for control. Did Soren isolate himself for the same reasons?

A harsh cough snaps me from my thoughts. Gabriel.

Lukas was right. His skin looks paler, and his breathing is uneven. Something is wrong, and he's not saying anything.

We press forward. Another room. Tall columns stretch toward the ceiling, casting long, warped shadows. Below, nothing but darkness.

"I'm really not feeling those columns." Lukas mutters, glancing at the columns with hesitation and wariness.

"Aw, come on! It's fun!" Magnus grins, bounding onto the first one without hesitation.

I hesitate but follow, jumping onto the gravel platform. It doesn't crumble beneath my weight. Strange. But as I leap to the next—

The block vanishes.

"Whoa!" The air rushes past me. My back collides with something solid. Pain jolts through me, rattling my bones.

"Shhh!" Lukas hisses from above.

I groan, rubbing my ribs. "Why are you telling me to shush?"

Jesse points and I turn my head. Endermen.

Dozens of them. Lurking. Watching. Their hollow, violet eyes glow in the dim light. One pulls a gravel block loose, the pieces above it tumbling down. That's why I fell.

A high-pitched squeal shatters the quiet, a noise that could only belong to Reuben.

"I think he's trying to get our attention." Jesse says, eyes scanning the shadows.

A blur of black moves out of the corner of my eye, followed by a violent screech. An Endermen materializes in front of Jesse, its limbs twitching, its unblinking gaze locked onto him.

He made eye contact.

The others react instantly, shrieking in anger. "Ahhh!" Jesse yells, stepping back—too far. And he slips into the water. A loud splash echoes as he plunges into the pool below.

The Endermen freeze, seemingly reluctant to follow. Damn, if it isn't a stupid idea, but it's worth a shot.

I inhale sharply and leap, bracing for impact. The cold water swallows me whole, numbing my limbs. The current tugs at my clothes, dragging me forward. A second splash—Lukas. Then a third—Reuben.

The water picks up speed, almost too fast for my mind to comprehend. My stomach lurches as a large drop makes itself known at the end of the pool.

A waterfall.

The edge rushes closer until it's far too late. I go over, plummeting through open air before crashing into another pool below. I break the surface, gasping for precious air. A massive stone wall looms ahead, embedded with a glowing, oversized version of the amulet. Faint voices carry through the chamber, angry and frustrated.

"That's it! I'm going!" Ellegaard shouts, stomping away, her footsteps echoing off the walls of the chamber.

"Oh, no, no, no! You do NOT get to be the one who walks away! That's it! I'm going!" Magnus argues, turning in the opposite direction and walking off.

Olivia groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It's hard to keep the glass half full when they keep kicking the glass over."

Jesse sighs, shaking his head. "They've definitely got issues to work through. But hopefully, they'll work things out and get on with the important stuff."

I glance around. Four stone statues line the walls, looming like silent guardians. Gabriel coughs again—louder this time. He's getting worse.

Jesse moves toward Ellegaard's path, Gabriel following. Lukas, Olivia, and Axel head toward Magnus. I hesitate, then reluctantly follow them, uncertainty gnawing at me.

A short trek through winding, dimly lit tunnels later...

We emerge into a cavernous chamber, with Glowstone clusters in the ceiling, casting flickering golden light. Towering bookshelves line the walls, crammed with ancient tomes.

In the center of the floor is another colored amulet design, the same as the actual amulet, and the same insignia on the order of the Stone's temple. But something is off. One of the bookshelves is ajar, only slightly. Almost invisible.

Faint sounds slip through the crack, light streaming from the other side. It sounds like fighting. I push forward, squeezing through the gap. Jesse and Gabriel are there, swords drawn, and glaring down another figure.

Ivor.

"There are more of you?" Ivor's voice drips with irritation. "Will this parade of useless babblers ever end?!"

"What's going on?" Olivia demands, joining me by slipping past the gap, along with the others.

"We found Ivor and stopped him." Jesse replies, eyes locked onto the man.

"False." Ivor sneers. "You haven't stopped anything. Have you ever seen the effects of a potion of slowness?"

No...

His hand moves too fast for any of us to top. With a flick of his wrist, a shimmering vial goes airborne. The sound of glass shattering reaches my ears before the sight does, the liquid in the viscous potion spilling onto the floor at our feet.

Everything slows. My limbs feel like lead. I try to turn, to chase, but it's like wading through honey. Ivor smirks, his dark eyes glittering in the dim light. He walks right past us, sending us a triumphant grin.  I turn around, trying my best to chase him. Dammit! We're too slow! The bookcase slams shut behind him. He's gonna get away...

Chapter Text

"No!" I shout, but my voice feels sluggish, as if it's pushing through thick syrup. Jesse skids to a stop just a block away from the now-sealed bookcase.

"Get out of the way!" Lukas yells in warning. Suddenly, a crushing force yanks me downward. My body slams into the floor with a dull thud, and beside me, Axel lands face-first with a grunt. The weight lifts almost instantly, and I scramble to my feet, shaking off the disorientation. Everything seems... normal again. The potion must have worn off.

"We need to find Soren." Jesse declares, determination hardening his voice.

"I still can't figure out how Ivor made that door close." Olivia mutters, her brows furrowing as she eyes the sealed entrance. Jesse's gaze shifts toward something—no, someone. I follow his line of sight.

Gabriel.

His posture is rigid, but there’s something fragile in the way he holds himself. His face, already pale, has lost even more color. He looks... sick. Jesse moves closer, lowering his voice as he speaks to him in hushed tones. My gut twists, my suspicions confirmed. I knew it. They’re hiding something.

A glint in the corner catches my eye. Golden swords? Mine had snapped earlier, so… may as well. I stride over, gripping the hilt of one and sliding it into my pocket. Lukas raises a quizzical eyebrow at my behavior. "What? Mine broke." I shrug.

He exhales sharply, rolling his eyes. "Figures."

"Hey, guys, I have an idea. Magnus, help!" Axel bellows. Silence follows.

"Alright, but I have another idea!" Axel announces.

"Is it yelling for Ellegaard?" Olivia deadpans.

"Well, it was." Axel grumbles, crossing his arms.

"They aren't coming back. We're on our own." Lukas says with a weary sigh.

"We don’t need them! As long as we have…" Jesse rummages in his inventory before pulling out—a flint and steel.

"That's not what I meant to grab." Jesse mutters, stuffing it away. "I meant… this!" He reveals the amulet. Three lights pulse brightly against the dim room.

"Here, let me see it." Lukas says, reaching for it. Jesse pulls back. The two lock eyes, and for a ridiculous moment, they start tugging on it like children fighting over a toy.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and yank the amulet from both of them. "You two are being ridiculous. This is not a toy to fight over."

The amulet suddenly flares with a near-blinding white light. I wince, shielding my eyes. How does Jesse stand this?

"Soren!" Jesse exclaims, the excitement evident in his voice. 

"Here." I huff, handing the amulet back to Jesse.

"Hurry, Jesse! Find him!" Gabriel urges, his tone carrying an urgency that prickles at my nerves.

Jesse paces around the room, the amulet’s glow intensifying as he moves toward the far wall. The pulsing grows erratic, nearly flashing.

"This is the spot. It has to be." Jesse declares with finality. "Get ready to dig, people." He orders.

Lukas frowns, his brow furrowing. "Who knows how far down that goes?"

"We're digging here! With our bare hands if we have to!" Jesse snaps, irritation creeping into his voice.

"I’m with you, Jesse, I just want to know what we’re getting into." Lukas says, holding up his hands in surrender.

"This! Hiyaah!" Axel yells, slamming his fist into the ground. To everyone's surprise, a hole cracks open beneath him.

I kneel, ready to dig, but Olivia steps in front of me, arms crossed. "Uh-uh. Nope. You need to heal."

"Are you kidding me? I’m fine!" I protest audibly.

Olivia responds by giving my shoulder a sharp thump. A sharp bolt of pain flares up my arm. "Ow!" I yelp in both surprise and pain.

"Yeah, you’re totally fine." Olivia says, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"You did that on purpose." I grumble, rubbing my shoulder.

"If you were fine, you wouldn't have reacted." She retorts, unimpressed.

"I don’t remember asking you to play nurse, Olivia." I hiss defensively.

"Y/N, don’t dig. Olivia’s right." Jesse orders, not even looking up from the pit. Olivia grins triumphantly in response.

"Fine! But next time something like this happens, I’m helping!" I huff, stepping back as the others continue digging.

One by one, everyone climbs down into the pit—except Jesse, who hasn’t resurfaced.

"Are we cool?" Axel asks, his voice echoing.

"It’s a hole!" Jesse calls back.

"Does that mean we’re cool?" Axel presses.

"I’ll find out!" Jesse responds, then after a pause, speaks up again. "It’s dark! But other than that, we’re okay!"

"Okay, I’m coming down." Olivia answers, lowering herself carefully.

"Something’s not right!" Jesse suddenly shouts.

"What?" Olivia calls back.

A bloodcurdling screech erupts from below. The sound is shrill and unnatural, making my skin crawl. Everyone screams in unison.

"Why are we screaming?!" Axel yells mid-scream.

"Okay! It’s safe now!" Jesse shouts after a tense moment.

One by one, we descend. I grip the loose stones tightly, feeling them shift beneath my fingers. Suddenly, my foot catches a jagged rock, sending me tumbling further into the pit.

"Ahh!" I yelp, bracing for impact. But it never comes. Instead, I land against something warm, sturdy. Strong arms cradle me. My breath catches.

"Gotcha!" Jesse grins from ear-to-ear.

Our eyes lock for a heart-stopping moment. The world seems to freeze around us, as if time was holding its breath.

"Ahem." Olivia clears her throat, loudly. "Are you two lovebirds done?"

Heat rushes to my face. Jesse realizes too—because he’s still holding me. Bridal style.

"Lovebirds?! Oi! Put me down or get socked!" I yelp, pressing my hands against Jesse's torso.

"Sorry!" Jesse stammers, his face turning red as he hurriedly sets me on my feet.

I whip around, scowling at Olivia. "We are not lovebirds!"

"Mhm, your reaction says otherwise." Olivia teases, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh come on! An ocelot lover?!" "Oh come on! A pig lover?!" We both shout in unison. "What is that supposed to mean?!" We both question each other in unison again. "Pig lover?! Reuben is my friend!" Jesse argues. "Ocelot lover?! Do I look like I like Aiden at all?!" I argue back. "That jacket says otherwise!" Jesse hisses. "The smell of bacon lingering on you says otherwise!" I snarl. 

"Hey! Both of you! Enough! Separate!" Lukas yells, ending the argument. I storm forward, to Lukas's side. We all start to walk. 

"What was that back there? With you and Jesse?" Lukas asks quietly. "I don't know. It seems like Olivia instigated it by calling us lovebirds." I respond flatly. "She's not wrong. You two act like a married couple!" Lukas teases. 

"You're kidding. I'm an Ocelot Lukas. We both are, Jesse and his gang are literally our rivals. It wouldn't work." I explain. "Oh, so you're saying you've thought about it?" Lukas asks, his tone playful. "What?! No, it's just common sense! Just shut up and walk!" I yelp. Lukas simply smirks and remains silent. We keep walking, until light appears at the end of the dark tunnel. Approaching it, wait what the hell is all this? Pistons, dark tunnels decorate the walls, with water at the bottom. "We have to get out of here!" Olivia urges, desperation in her tone. "We just got here!" Axel argues. 

"You don't understand. This is a grinder!" She explains, her voice rising in pitch with each word. As if on cue, water rushes out of one of the nearby tunnels along with a group of skeletons. They get washed down, and pistons crush them mercilessly, their loot falling into the water below. 

"They're meant to kill monsters! The only problem is... They don't know the difference between monsters... And people." Olivia says with a grim tone.

"What is a monster grinder doing down here?!" Jesse shouts.

"Not just any grinder, this is the craziest one I’ve ever seen!" Olivia exclaims, eyes wide.

The walls groan, gears clanking as water floods the tunnel. The mob rush is instant—skeletons, zombies, all pulled toward the pistons, crushed into splintering bones and pixelated loot.

"They don’t know the difference between monsters and people!" Olivia says grimly.

"Not just any grinder, this is the craziest one I've ever seen!" Olivia responds. A loud groan escapes from behind us. A horde of creepers emerges from the darkness. Gabriel and Jesse run toward the creepers, prepared to fight. One gets past Jesse, and blows a massive hole in the side of the tunnel. Then, water almost sweeps us into the grinder. Is that... The amulet?! Oh great, Jesse dropped it. He gets near the edge, his body stiffening. "Wait, are you gonna jump?!" Olivia asks. "Tuck and roll!" Jesse says, leaping into the grinder. We all follow, I yank out my sword.

I keep going further into the grinder, someone has to get that amulet! I smack a creeper into another tunnel, taking out another chunk of another tunnel, the sound of the explosion ringing in my ears. Wait... Axel and Reuben need help! They're surrounded by mobs! 

"Jesse! Help!" Axel shouts. Me and Jesse share a glance. "You get the amulet! I'll help those two!" I yell, running towards them. Two zombies, and a skeleton. I shoulder rush one of the two zombies, making it go flying into the skeleton knocking them both off. Reuben headbutts the final zombie, forcing it off the edge. "Thanks... I guess." Axel mutters. "I did it for Reuben." I deadpan, rolling my eyes.

"I got it!" Jesse yells, holding up the amulet with pride. Suddenly, water sweeps Jesse and a creeper even further into the grinder. Jesse grabs ahold of the creeper and kicks it into the pistons of doom and it explodes on impact, tearing a hole in the deadly pistons. He falls into the water. "Well, here goes!" I yell, leaping from the edge. I go through the new hole, and land in the freezing water. So does everyone else. Wait, I can't resurface. Something's keeping us under. I struggle with all my strength, but I only sink further. Suddenly, I'm engulfed in darkness, another tunnel?

The current yanks me through the darkness, my body twisting as I’m pulled toward an unknown destination. The roar of rushing water fills my ears before—suddenly—light bursts into my vision. My stomach lurches. The ground is speeding toward me.

"Ahhh!" I yell, bracing for impact.

Instead of hard stone, I crash onto something soft and oddly squishy.

"Oof!" the 'something' yelps beneath me.

A startled breath catches in my throat as I scramble off the poor soul I just flattened. My hands press into damp fabric, and realization strikes like a lightning bolt. Oh no. I landed on Lukas.

"Sorry!" I yelp, hastily pulling him to his feet.

He groans, rolling a shoulder as if testing whether it still works. "Oh, everything hurts."

I wince. "Did I fall on you that hard?"

"No. Axel fell on me before you." He mutters, rubbing his ribs.

"Ohhh." I grimace, the mental image sending a wave of phantom pain through me. Poor guy.

"Hey, Y/N." Axel’s voice calls out, drawing my attention.

"What?" I ask, still dusting myself off.

"Thanks for saving my hide back there. I guess I owe you one." He mutters, almost like he hates admitting it.

I shrug, brushing him off. "As I said, I didn't do it for you. I did it for Reuben. You don’t owe me anything."

Axel barely reacts, but there’s something unreadable in his expression before he turns away.

Suddenly, he perks up, eyes widening as he points to something behind me. "There's something different about you, Y/N—Hold on, hold on, hold on! This is where all the loot gets sorted, right?!" His voice picks up in excitement. "See that? Things are starting to turn around!"

I follow his gaze to the massive glass columns, where treasures swirl in an endless loop, glinting under the dim light. A stark contrast to the suffocating gloom of the cave around us.

"We’re lucky we still have the amulet." Gabriel reminds us, his deep voice carrying an edge of warning. "Don’t forget the mission above all else. Even above your friends. We won’t always be this fortunate." Gabriel speaks, glancing pointedly at Jesse.

My head snaps toward him. Excuse me, what?

Is he serious?! I shoot a glance at Jesse, who looks just as baffled. Does he not realize we can hear him loud and clear?

"That’s terrible advice. You’re basically saying I should have let my friends die up there?!" Jesse argues, his voice sharp with disbelief.

Gabriel exhales heavily, as if explaining a lesson to a petulant child. "I’ve been in the hero business for quite some time. It’s kept me in luxury. But for all its perks, more often than not, heroes work alone."

Before I can process such a bleak outlook, a deep mechanical groan reverberates through the chamber. The sound is ominous, metal grinding against metal like a beast waking from slumber.

"Sounds like the grinder is backed up." Olivia mutters, looking up warily.

I barely have a second to react before a torrent of water crashes down from above. My breath catches as mobs spill out with it—zombies, skeletons, spiders—all surging forward in a chaotic, writhing mass.

"Go, go, go!" Jesse shouts, his urgency snapping me into action.

I yank my golden sword from its sheath as the first zombie lunges. The blade glints under the dim light, slicing through rotting flesh with a sickening shlick. The undead groans before crumbling to dust.

"Keep moving!" Jesse calls again.

I push forward, cutting down anything in my path. The others race ahead, but then—suddenly—they stop. I move past them to see what’s ahead, and my stomach clenches.

An End Portal.

The twelve eyes of Ender gleam from their sockets, pulsating faintly, like they’re watching us. The swirling void within the frame hums with quiet, otherworldly energy, its surface shifting like liquid obsidian. Little dots of light, like stars shimmer and twinkle against the dark swirling mass, a small reprieve to the sight of cosmic horror in front of us.

If Soren is in there, we don’t have a choice. We have to go in.

Chapter Text

"Wait!" Lukas yells, pointing frantically behind us. I whirl around just in time to see Gabriel struggling against two zombies, their decayed hands clawing at his armor. He grits his teeth, barely keeping them at bay.

"Get away from him!" Jesse shouts, sprinting toward the fight without hesitation. The sound of his boots pounding against the ground is drowned out by the gurgling growls of the undead. With swift, practiced swings of his sword, Jesse cuts down the zombies, their bodies collapsing into piles of rotting flesh and dissipating into nothing. He barely spares a moment to catch his breath before dashing back to us.

"Jump!" Jesse commands, his voice urgent as he dives headfirst into the swirling void of the portal. Without thinking, I follow, leaping into the ink-like abyss, my heart hammering in my chest.

I hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from my lungs. Gritty end stones scrape against my palms as I push myself up, shaking off the disorientation. Around me, towering obsidian spires stretch toward the dark purple sky, the air thick and eerily silent. No clouds, no wind, just an oppressive stillness.

Lukas, Olivia, and Reuben materialize nearby, blinking at our surroundings.

"Where's Axel? I swear he was right behind me!" Olivia says, spinning around in a panic.

A piercing scream slices through the silence, followed by a heavy thud. I wince. Axel, yet again, has landed directly on Lukas.

Lukas groans in pain. I stride over and extend a hand to him. He takes it, pulling himself to his feet with a huff. Just as he's steady, he suddenly presses his hands over his eyes, his shoulders trembling.

Is he... crying?

"Stop crying." Jesse groans, voicing my exact thoughts.

"What? No, I’m not crying—look!" Lukas murmurs, his voice tight as he points ahead.

A wave of dread rolls over me. A massive cluster of Endermen lurks just beyond us, their spindly limbs shifting unnaturally, purple eyes glowing ominously in the dim light.

Oh, shi—one’s looking right at us!

I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to move, blindly following the others as we edge away from the creatures. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, drowning out the unnatural hum of the End.

We huddle behind a towering obsidian spire, trying to steady our breaths.

"So, uh... what do we call that?" Lukas asks, his voice hushed but laced with tension. "A herd of Endermen? A flock?"

"It's a haunting of Endermen." Jesse says matter-of-factly.

"We might wanna hold off on the grammar lessons until later." Olivia interjects. "Which way are we headed?"

Jesse pulls out the amulet, a smug smirk crossing his face—but it vanishes just as quickly when the light flickers off.

"The amulet doesn’t work in the End." Gabriel explains, his voice hoarse.

"Ahaha, great. Man, so we were trapped before, and now we’re lost." Lukas crosses his arms, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"At least we’re alive and well." Jesse suggests, ever the optimist.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Would it kill you to stop being so optimistic for once?"

"We just need to keep moving until we find Soren." Jesse insists.

Lukas scoffs. "Face it, Jesse. We might never find this guy."

"Look, there he is!" Axel exclaims, pointing toward a distant figure. A man with bright orange hair is climbing a staircase made of obsidian.

"Let’s get going!" Jesse orders, taking a step forward to chase the man.

Gabriel starts forward but suddenly doubles over, hacking violently into his hand.

"Everyone, behind me!" He rasps, attempting to take charge, but his body betrays him.

"No, it’s alright. I’ll go first." Jesse insists.

I narrow my eyes. The coughing, the exhaustion, the pale complexion—I've seen this before. Jesse knows. Why isn’t he saying anything?

We form a line, each gripping onto the person in front like a human centipede, eyes averted from the Endermen. Jesse leads, and I’m sandwiched between Lukas and Axel as we inch forward.

Finally, we reach a set of quartz stairs, faintly glowing from embedded glowstone. Gabriel coughs again, each raspy breath more labored than the last.

"Well done, Jesse!" he manages, but his voice is weaker.

A massive bedrock portal looms nearby, our way out. But first, we need Soren.

Up the stairs, we reach the top, gasping for breath. The space before us is impossible.

What...?

Despite being in the End, the landscape resembles the Overworld. The sky is static, the clouds frozen in place. Everything is eerily quiet.

"Ahh!" Axel yelps, falling—again—directly onto Lukas.

"That’s my body, Axel. My broken, battered body." Lukas groans.

Silently, I offer him a hand. He hesitates, then smirks slightly. "We’re even now." I tease.

Lukas chuckles, the memory of Endercon flickering across his face. A rare moment of normalcy amidst all the chaos.

"What in the—?" Jesse exclaims. He kneels and presses his hand against a tree. "It’s made of wool. The ground, the trees—it’s all wool."

Lukas stares, disbelief twisting his features. "You’re telling me we’ve been relying on this guy, hoping he has the answer to saving the world... and he’s been making some artificial happy land instead?!"

"I guess after so much time alone, Soren might’ve gone a little... off." Jesse mutters.

"A little is being generous." Lukas grumbles.

Gabriel nods. "Soren has a history of... odd behavior."

Lukas clenches his jaw. "We came here for nothing!" He hurls a handful of wool to the ground in frustration and storms off.

Jesse looks at me, hope flickering in his expression. I sigh and shake my head before following Lukas.

Lukas leans against a wool tree, frustration etched into every tense line of his body.

"Lukas." I speak softly. "what was that about?"

"I’m just so tired of chasing ghosts and clinging to false hope!" He snaps, his jaw clenched in anger and frustration.

"I get it. I do. But we’ve come too far to fall apart now." I keep my voice calm. "We have to stick together."

His shoulders sag in defeat. "I know... I just feel lost."

I sigh deeply, running a hand through my hair. "I know how that feels. But we’ll make it through."

He snorts derisively. "The world really must be ending if you’re being optimistic."

"Hey, I’m not that bad. Jesse’s worse."

Lukas chuckles—then stiffens. "What do you want?" He growls, his gaze hardening as he glances over my shoulder. 

I turn to see Jesse approaching, his gaze fixed on both of us.

Lukas's arms are crossed tightly over his chest, his fingers digging into his sleeves as he exhales sharply through his nose. His frustration is palpable, tension clinging to his frame like a second skin.

"Lukas, no matter how upset you get, you've got to keep it together." Jesse says, his voice firm but encouraging.

"Yeah, we were just discussing that. Hopefully, it won't happen again." I add, my tone light in an attempt to defuse the growing unease.

Lukas shifts on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "Listen, I know I've been prickly, okay? But... guys, I think... something's wrong. With Gabriel. You guys might not have noticed, but..." He trails off, his gaze flickering toward the warrior in question.

My stomach knots. Did he notice it too?

"What exactly are you saying?" Jesse asks, his expression cautious.

Lukas's eyes darken with concern. "There's something wrong! Something big. It's not fooling anybody. At least not me." He exclaims, his voice rising slightly.

Jesse shakes his head, dismissing him with a sigh. "You're just imagining things."

Lukas exhales sharply and leans against a nearby tree, the soft wool pressing against his back as he lapses into silence. His fingers curl against his arms, jaw clenched.

I hesitate for only a moment before turning to Jesse. "Jesse, can I speak to you? Alone?"

Jesse blinks at me, then nods. "Sure, what's up?"

I cast a quick glance at Lukas, then step away from the group, Jesse following behind until we’re out of earshot. The moment I’m sure no one can hear us, I turn sharply, lowering my voice.

"You can trick Lukas, but not me." I hiss.

Jesse's brows furrow. "What are you talking about?"

I glare at him. "You’d think, out of all people, you could tell me. You think I don’t know what Wither sickness looks like, Jesse?"

His eyes widen a fraction. "How did—?"

I cut him off. "You're forgetting—my sister suffered from it. I know the signs when I see them. Gabriel is infected. Why haven’t you told anyone?"

Jesse exhales, shoulders sagging. "Gabriel asked me not to tell. Please don’t say anything! Especially to Lukas!" His voice is hushed but urgent as he clasps his hands together in a begging motion. His moppy hair falls over his eyes as he looks up at me through thick lashes.

I stare at him for a long moment before sighing heavily. "I don’t know what you're playing at, but they need to know. But... if Gabriel asked you not to tell, he probably has a plan. So, I’ll keep quiet. For now."

Jesse exhales in relief. "Thank you."

I cross my arms. "I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing it for Gabriel and the others. If they find out the greatest warrior of all time can’t fight, they might start doubting our survival. Now go. Before someone starts getting suspicious."

I usher him back toward the group, watching as he returns to his place. I make my way back to Lukas, who immediately narrows his eyes at me.

"What did you two talk about?" He asks, skepticism lacing his tone.

I force a casual shrug. "Nothing important. Jesse asked me about my wounds—they’re mostly healed now." It’s a lie. The wounds are better, but not healed.

Lukas raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press further.

Jesse approaches again, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What now?" I ask, mildly annoyed.

"I kinda need to get at that lever you’re both blocking." Jesse explains nervously.

"Fine." Lukas mutters, stepping aside. I do the same, and Jesse flicks a lever embedded into the tree. With a mechanical click, a section of the wall shifts. He presses a nearby button, and stone grinds against stone as a passageway opens before us.

"Hey, everyone! I think I found Soren’s way out!" Jesse calls, drawing the group’s attention.

We step forward, greeted by an eerie corridor stretching ahead. The warmth of the wool room fades behind us, replaced by dim lighting that casts long, flickering shadows along the walls.

Lukas lets out a low groan. "Great. Now onto Weirdoville in three... two... one..."

The air is oddly still, heavy with a quiet that feels unnatural. A small water fountain burbles in the center of the corridor, the gentle splash of water echoing eerily. Tables line the walls, neatly arranged but completely unoccupied, as if their guests had vanished mid-meal. Between them, plants sit in carefully placed pots, their leaves motionless. Torches flicker, their glow failing to dispel the creeping unease.

Soft classical music drifts from one of the rooms, the cheerful melody feeling out of place in the abandoned setting. The hallway stretches endlessly ahead, its vanishing point swallowed by darkness.

I spot Olivia standing near a door, hesitating. Jesse moves toward her, and I follow.

"Let’s see what’s behind this door." Jesse suggests.

The hinges creak softly as he pushes it open. We step inside cautiously. The room is strangely vibrant—bright paintings dot the walls, and a large purple glass window dominates the far end.

A voice murmurs, barely audible.

"That’s Soren!" Jesse exclaims, perking up.

We rush toward the sound—only to come to a halt.

"What the—?" Olivia frowns

A jukebox sits before us, endlessly playing a recording.

"It’s just a recording!" Jesse exclaims in frustration.

"After all that, he’s not even here." Olivia groans, her shoulders slumping.

"Well, jukeboxes don’t play themselves." I point out.

"Good point." Olivia mutters. "I guess he really likes the sound of his own voice."

"Maybe there’s something useful on the recording." Jesse suggests.

The recording crackles. "I’ve created a simple set of building instructions to... inspire them. My next step will be to encourage them to build collaboratively. I will disguise myself and hide among them in order to observe them more closely."

Jesse frowns. "Hide among who?"

"Uhh... Jesse? Do you think Soren is talking about... them?" Olivia asks, pointing toward the glass window.

Through it, Endermen stalk the open space beyond, moving with their signature eerie grace. Some wander aimlessly, others pause, their heads twitching at unseen stimuli. One even looks directly through the window, its glowing purple eyes locking onto us. A shiver runs down my spine at the implication.

"No way that’s what he means. That’s nuts!" Jesse protests.

"You heard the recording. He’s trying to get them to build." Olivia insists.

"You think he’s trying to train Endermen to build stuff?" Jesse asks incredulously.

"It seems like he thinks he’s training Endermen to build stuff." I murmur, still watching the creatures outside.

"Let’s look around and see what else we can find." Jesse suggests, glancing at the window nervously.

A few minutes later, Jesse calls us over. "Olivia, Y/N, check this out!"

We walk over, and Olivia tilts her head. "An Enderman... suit?"

"Either Soren’s got a very unique fashion sense or..." I trail off.

Olivia’s eyes widen as she points to an empty armor stand. "Wait a second! Looks like a taller one was hanging there, and it’s missing."

"Soren must be wearing it!" Jesse exclaims. I glance at the suit, realization dawning.

"This is the disguise he was talking about! To walk amongst the Endermen, you have to become an Endermen!" Olivia exclaims, her voice filled with an almost giddy enthusiasm. She gestures toward the peculiar suit on display, its dark fabric eerily resembling the inky, shifting texture of the creatures outside.

I scan the cluttered room, my eyes darting over scattered notes, blocks, and the odd contraptions littering Soren’s hidden sanctuary. "There must be instructions for what he wants them to build somewhere. Let’s keep looking." My tone is firm but eager.

Jesse and Olivia split up, each rifling through shelves and workbenches, while I move cautiously through the dimly lit space, my fingers brushing against the rough parchment of abandoned blueprints. Every so often, a faint scritch-scratch of paper echoes as we sift through Soren’s research. The occasional distant thunk from outside reminds me of the Endermen just beyond these walls—lurking, waiting.

"I think I found those instructions." Jesse's voice pulls me from my search. He stands near a worn-out desk, holding a blue piece of paper up to the light. I step over, my gaze sweeping over the carefully drawn lines and symbols.

"This must be what he’s trying to teach them to build." I murmur, my mind racing to piece together Soren’s plan.

Olivia leans over Jesse’s shoulder, her brow furrowing before her expression lights up in realization. "So, if Soren is using those blueprints to teach the Endermen how to build, and there’s a disguise missing from the stand..." She trails off, eyes widening.

"He must be conducting his experiment right now." Jesse states, the weight of the discovery settling over us.

"Of course! The missing disguise is the one he had to put on before going outside." Olivia grins, excitement flickering in her eyes.

This means if we wanna get Soren’s attention, one of us has to go out there. The thought sends a chill crawling up my spine. I steel myself before voicing it aloud. " So, if we want Soren's attention... One of us has to go out there to do it." My voice comes out grim, heavier than I intended.

Jesse lets out a quiet sigh, already knowing what’s coming. He glances at the remaining Enderman suit before exhaling sharply. "That other Endermen suit would fit me. Guess it’s time to play dress-up." His words are tinged with reluctance, but there’s a hint of determination beneath his exasperation.

He tugs the suit over his clothes, the fabric stiff and slightly oversized. As he pulls the hood over his head, he grimaces. "Ugh, this thing reeks."

I stifle a chuckle, shifting my focus to gathering materials. As I comb through the room, I stack clay blocks into my arms, their cool, grainy texture pressing against my fingertips. "I only found five." I admit, turning toward Jesse. "Maybe one of the Endermen has the last one." I hand him the blocks carefully, watching his expression for any flicker of unease.

"I hope so." Jesse mutters, adjusting the suit’s hood before heading for the door.

Just as he reaches the exit, I hesitate before calling out. "Oh, Jesse, wait!"

He turns, one hand already hovering over the door handle. "What is it?"

I offer a small grin. "Don’t die, okay? I don’t need Axel groaning about it."

Jesse chuckles, shaking his head. "I think Axel wouldn’t be groaning about it." His tone is teasing, but there’s a quiet appreciation in his eyes before he steps outside, vanishing into the eerie stillness of the night.

All I can do now is wait.

A few minutes later...

The door slams open with a jarring bang, sending a shock through my spine. I whirl around, my heart leaping into my throat as I instinctively draw my sword. A towering figure fills the doorway—an Enderman. My grip tightens around the hilt, muscles coiling in preparation to strike.

Then—"Put that away, I'm not here to harm you!" A voice protests hastily.

Wait. That voice...

The Endermen is holding Jesse, limp and unconscious in its long arms. My breath catches. "Soren?" I ask, my voice laced with disbelief.

"That's me." The Enderman—no, Soren—nods, shifting Jesse slightly before adding. "Could you please put that away? It makes me nervous." His voice carries an edge of unease, though his words are calm and measured.

I lower my sword, watching as he carefully lays Jesse on the floor with surprising gentleness. My pulse slows, though suspicion still lingers. "What did you do to him?"

Soren dusts off his hands, straightening with a satisfied hum. "He should wake up right about... now."

Right on cue, Jesse groans, his hand sluggishly moving to rub his face as he sits up. His expression is a mix of dazed confusion and mild irritation.

"I don't think it'll bruise. Your face, I mean." Soren remarks matter-of-factly as he peels off his Endermen suit, draping it back onto the stand with a practiced motion. "These suits were built with durability in mind."

I extend a hand, helping Jesse off the floor. "You okay?"

Jesse shoots a glare at Soren before sighing. "You must be Soren."

"I am." Soren confirms, then tilts his head with an exaggerated, almost theatrical curiosity. "But must I be?"

Jesse winces, still groggy. "Why did you hit me?" He groans, rubbing his temple.

"There were strategic reasons." Soren says with a dismissive wave of his hand, before pausing. "And a personal one. You are trespassing, after all."

Jesse glares. "You hit me. Hard. In the face."

I can’t help it—I snort, amused by the absolute indignation in Jesse’s voice. "Big baby." I mutter, smirking.

Beside me, Reuben lets out an unimpressed snuffle, casting me a very pointed look. I raise my hands in mock innocence. Soren crosses his arms, his sharp gaze locking onto Jesse. "You upset the Endermen. And I got you to safety. By the way, as far as introductions go, this is not going very well." His tone is both irritated and oddly theatrical as if the entire situation is a mild inconvenience rather than a serious matter.

Jesse straightens, shaking off the last of his daze. "The world is in danger." His voice is firm, with no hesitation.

Soren lets out a long, drawn-out sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Oh, what else is new?" His exasperation is palpable as if he’s heard these words a thousand times before. "Whatever your issue, whatever your problem, it has occurred before. And it has been solved before." He throws up his hands dramatically, turning away as though already tired of the conversation.

I glance at Jesse. Yep. This is going to be fun.

Chapter Text

"Even so, what do you need me for? I've gone out of my way to avoid these types of problems." Soren says, his voice carrying the weight of disinterest. His fingers drum absentmindedly against his arm, eyes half-lidded as if he’s already bored of the conversation.

"I—We need you to be a hero." Jesse explains, his tone insistent but edged with hesitation.

Soren exhales slowly, his gaze shifting toward Jesse with a skeptical arch of his brow. "I see. And what do you think a hero would do in this situation?"

"A hero would give me his Formidi-Bomb." Jesse speaks, his tone brooking no argument.

Silence. A tense, stretching quiet settles over the room, the hum of distant machinery the only sound.

"Oh, hell. There's a super-powered Wither Storm on the loose, eating the surface world as we speak! We don't have time to sit here and argue or play nice! Will you help us or not?!" I yell, frustration bubbling over. My fists clench at my sides, my breath coming out harsher than I intended.

Soren tilts his head slightly, as if considering my outburst like a curious experiment. "Ah, you misspoke then. You don't need me, you need my stuff." He corrects, his voice cool, detached. His expression shifts, something flickering behind his eyes—a mixture of pain and bitterness. "I've found when you give people what they want, they turn on you."

"Who turned on you?" Jesse asks cautiously.

"All of them!" Soren’s voice rises, his posture stiffening with something that almost looks like heartbreak. "It's why I prefer Endermen. They do what you expect, almost to a fault." He gestures toward the window, where the dark silhouettes of Endermen shift restlessly against the eerie glow of the base’s lighting.

"I have a pig." Jesse shrugs, and Reuben lets out a proud snort.

Soren’s eyes flick toward the pig, studying him with detached amusement. "Right, I was wondering about that. My guess is a portable meal?"

My glare sharpens like a blade. "Try it, and you'll find this sword piercing your throat before you can blink." I growl lowly.

Jesse nods firmly. "He's my friend."

"Of course. I used to have those." Soren says wistfully, his gaze growing distant. The weight of his own words seems to settle over him like an invisible chain.

"Gabriel asked me to reassemble The Order of the Stone." Jesse explains.

"The Order of the Stone?" Soren’s face lifts with cautious hope, his eyes searching Jesse’s. "They asked for me?"

"Gabriel is your friend." Jesse says simply.

Soren hesitates, something uncertain flashing across his features. "Hmmm... I don't know. Does he talk about me?"

"Sure. They said you were the best of them." Jesse shrugs his shoulders.

A slow smile tugs at the corner of Soren’s mouth. "That's very good to hear." His expression shifts again, this time more calculating. "But what about you two? Are you my friends?"

I shrug, mentally sizing Soren up. "Remains to be seen."

"Not really." Jesse answers bluntly.

Soren lets out a chuckle, but it’s thin, almost desperate. "I get it, a joke between friends. That is so classic!"

How desperate is this guy?

"Don't worry, I'm going to help. Because that's what friends do." He declares, a gleam of misplaced enthusiasm in his eyes. Then, suddenly, he spreads his arms wide, inhaling dramatically. "Before we leave, I'm going to give my old friends a gift. The gift... of song!"

Oh, no. Please... don't.

I pinch the bridge of my nose as he launches into a performance.

"Gary may seem scary, but he's a swell guy. Sally dilly-dallies, give her credit, she tries! They might look the same to the untrained eye! But that's a lie! So I say—"

His song is abruptly cut off by the door bursting open. In the doorway, Lukas stands frozen, looking bewildered. "Wait.. Is that... Are you—"

"Soren!" Olivia squeals excitedly, stepping forward.

"We found him." I mutter, stating the obvious.

Gabriel strides into the room, looking worse than before. The color has drained further from his face, and his movements are sluggish, pained. "You look... terrible." Soren remarks, blunt as ever.

Gabriel manages a weak smirk. "Terribly handsome!" 

Soren lets out a small chuckle, but there’s genuine warmth in it this time. "Hello, old friend."

"We've been looking for you." Gabriel says, but then his eyes widen past Soren’s shoulder.

I follow his gaze—only to immediately regret it.

An Enderman stands there, motionless, its glowing violet eyes boring into the room. Even more of them begin to teleport in, the sound of their distorted screeches filling the air. My breath hitches. They aren’t leaving.

"What's happening?" Jesse asks, eyes darting between the shifting figures.

One of the Endermen lets out an agitated noise, its body tensing. Shit.

"You upset them! You've.. altered their behavior!" Soren snaps, his usual detachment now tinged with alarm.

"Okay, let's go!" Jesse murmurs, his voice tight with urgency. We rush toward the exit, only to round the corner and—Oh shi—

More Endermen. More than I can count.

"Huh! I wasn't expecting so many house guests! There's no way I have enough seashell soaps for all of them!" Soren exclaims, his voice thick with worry.

I shoot him a dirty look. Is that really his priority right now?!

"How are we supposed to get out of here?" Lukas asks, glancing nervously at the towering figures.

Jesse steadies himself. "We just have to... muscle through them."

Soren claps his hands together. "One thing about Endermen is that they hate water. If we can force that fountain to overflow somehow—Jesse, you still have the Endermen suit! Put that on, and you'll be able to safely reach the fountain!"

Jesse goes rigid beside me. "Ugh, just when I thought I would never have to smell this thing again." He groans, slipping the mask over his face.

He inches forward, carefully navigating past the Endermen, the suit doing its job of masking his presence. When he reaches the fountain, he breaks the surrounding blocks, releasing a cascade of water. Endermen shriek in response, their distorted cries echoing through the chamber.

"It's clear!" Jesse yells. Without hesitation, we sprint through the corridor, the water sloshing around our ankles. But Jesse suddenly halts.

"Oh no..." His voice is barely above a whisper.

More Endermen. Lukas lets out a defeated breath. "We're gonna die."

"Nobody's gonna die, because I'm gonna break that other fountain." Jesse groans, determined.

An Enderman materializes in his path, tilting its head down at him. Jesse hesitates, then, in an act of sheer desperation—

"Ahhhhhhh!" He mimics an Enderman noise, albeit poorly.

I let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose again.

Miraculously, it works. The Enderman backs off, and Jesse reaches the second fountain, breaking the blocks. Another flood of water. Another wave of shrill Endermen cries.

"Okay, everybody, let's go!" Jesse shouts. We run, breaking through fences, and leaping into the water below. The chill bites into my skin, but I barely notice.

Soren swims ahead. "When I built this place, I worried about how flammable my building material was, so I installed a fire suppression system."

"So there's more water?" Jesse asks.

"Much more." Soren nods, a small proud smile lingering on his expression. Jesse climbs out, pulling the lever. A loud rumble echoes as water surges beneath us.

"Hurry! To the trapdoor!" I yell, my voice laced with urgency. I dive, lungs burning, and aid Jesse in shoving Gabriel through before I can’t hold my breath any longer. Finally, we reach the portal—and I don’t hesitate. I jump in without a second thought.

"Whoa!" I yelp as I’m launched through the portal, tumbling out onto the other side. The moment I hit the ground, the rough stone scrapes against my palms and knees. Dirt fills my mouth, and I cough as I push myself upright, shaking off the disorientation.

"We made it!" Jesse exclaims, his voice laced with relief.

"Making it is relative." Soren mutters, his tone dry as he dusts off his clothes.

A sudden, guttural groan cuts through the moment, sending a shiver down my spine. Gabriel lets out a startled yelp as the decayed, shambling figures of zombies lurch toward us, their lifeless eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

Instinct kicks in. My fingers tighten around the hilt of my sword as I yank it from its sheath. The cold weight in my hands is reassuring. One of the zombies staggers closer, arms outstretched, its putrid breath thick in the air. Without hesitation, I drive my blade deep into its stomach. A soft hiss escapes the wound before—poof—it bursts into a cloud of pixelated smoke, vanishing entirely.

"Not that this isn't fun and all, but let's grab that Formidi-Bomb and get out of here!" Jesse calls over the sounds of battle.

"One small problem." Soren interjects with visible regret. "I haven't actually built it yet."

What?!

"That's a small problem?!" Jesse exclaims, his voice rising in disbelief.

Soren, ever the eccentric, quickly shifts gears. "You seem like a person who appreciates cool stuff that's cool for no reason!" He gestures dramatically toward a lever behind Jesse. "Go ahead and throw that lever behind you!"

Jesse hesitates for half a second before pulling it down. A deep, mechanical clunk echoes through the chamber as hidden pistons engage. Then, with a thunderous rumble, the walls shift. From iron-lined compartments, towering Iron Golems emerge, their blocky forms rising like ancient guardians. Their eyes glow with a steady red light as they march forward, arms swinging with precise, mechanical grace.

The monsters don’t stand a chance. The Golems plow through the undead hordes, smashing zombies into wisps of smoke and sending skeletons flying with earthshaking punches. The sound of metal colliding with brittle bones fills the air, followed by the clatter of dropped loot scattering across the floor.

"That did turn out to be pretty cool!" Jesse admits, watching in awe as the Golems dismantle the enemy forces with ease.

"Well, I wouldn't lie to you, Jesse." Soren replies with a smug grin. He strides further into the room, gesturing for the Golems to stand down.

A new sound trickles through the chaos—soft, beckoning whispers that seem to slither through the air.

"Do you guys hear that?" Axel asks, his voice tinged with intrigue. "All that stuff whispering: Take me, take me now."

I roll my eyes, shaking my head at him, but curiosity pulls my gaze toward the intricate glass tubes running along the ceiling and walls. Inside, monster drops and rare items swirl in an endless stream, sorted methodically as they travel to their respective compartments. The shimmering loot glows under the dim lighting, a tempting prize for anyone with sticky fingers, more specifically, Axel.

"I'll fetch the Super TNT. It's right up there. Feel free to help yourselves, and keep an eye out for gunpowder." Soren says, already making his way toward a raised platform. His voice, though casual, holds a weight of urgency.

An excited gleam flickers across Axel's face as he immediately starts scouring the chests nearby. Meanwhile, my attention drifts to Gabriel, slumped against the cold stone wall, his posture weary and rigid with pain. Shadows stretch across his face, making the exhaustion in his eyes even more evident.

I step toward him, kneeling at his side. "How do you feel?" I ask, my voice quiet, but firm.

"What do you mean? I feel great!" Gabriel says with forced enthusiasm—too forced. He barely gets the words out before another fit of coughing racks his body, his frame trembling under the effort.

"Gabriel, don't lie to me." I order, my gaze unwavering. "I know you're suffering from wither sickness."

His eyes widen in shock, pupils darting around as if searching for an escape. "No, Jesse didn’t tell me." I continue before he can ask. "I figured it out myself."

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly, though his expression remains guarded. "So you knew..." A voice cuts through the air behind me. "You knew and didn’t say anything?"

I turn to find Lukas standing there, his expression twisted in disbelief.

"Lukas... it’s not like that." I speak quickly, hoping he'll listen. "You remember when I talked to Jesse alone? I confronted him about it, and he begged me not to say anything." I watch his face carefully, hoping for understanding.

Lukas's brows furrow, but after a long moment, he simply nods, his lips pressed into a thin line. Gabriel exhales, then looks at me with curiosity. "If you don’t mind me asking... how did you figure out it was wither sickness? Sure, you could tell I was ill, but how did you know exactly what it was?"

My chest tightens at the memory. "Oh, well... I had a younger sibling who suffered from it." I admit, my voice growing softer. "She didn’t make it."

A heavy silence lingers between us. Gabriel’s expression shifts from curiosity to sorrow. "Oh... I’m sorry for your loss."

I shake my head, offering a weak smile. "It’s fine. Not very encouraging, is it?"

Gabriel chuckles dryly, shaking his head. "I’m afraid not."

Footsteps approach, and Jesse’s voice pulls us back to the present. "Hey, you guys doing okay?" His tone carries the usual concern, but there's a sharpness to it—he already knows the answer.

"It’s gotten pretty bad." Lukas answers, glancing at Gabriel. "We’re hoping when you bomb the Wither Storm, this sickness will just... go away."

Jesse shifts his gaze to me, filled with a hint of disbelief. I shrug. "I didn’t tell him." I say plainly. "He found out on his own."

Lukas exhales through his nose. "Fingers crossed, right?"

I nod. "Toes too." Jesse adds, forcing some optimism into his voice.

A deep rumbling suddenly shakes the ground, causing dust to rain down from the ceiling. My heart lurches as a portion of the wall slides open with a low, mechanical groan. From the darkness, minecarts glide into view, metal wheels clanking against the rails.

"Hey, Soren! I think I've almost got enough gunpowder now!" Jesse calls, heading toward the older man.

Soren turns, rubbing his temples before flashing a tired smile. "Glad to hear it, and Jesse, I... I am sorry for not keeping this place as organized as I should have." He reaches into his pocket, pulling out something that glows faintly even in the dim light. My breath catches—it looks like TNT, but its core pulses with an eerie radiance. The Super TNT.

"Uh, how do we build the Formidi-Bomb exactly?" Jesse asks, eyeing the explosive.

"The crafting recipe is simple, really." Soren explains. "Super TNT in the middle, and gunpowder all around."

"Got it." Jesse nods, reaching for the TNT, but Soren instinctively jerks it back, his grip tightening. "No! The ingredients are highly unstable! Even putting them in close proximity to each other is a risk!" His voice has an edge of panic, his eyes flicking toward the Super TNT like it might explode at any second.

Jesse hesitates, then nods. "Okay, well, we may not have the Formidi-Bomb yet, but at least we have the ingredients to build one!"

"And now that we have them, we..." Soren trails off, waiting for someone to complete the thought.

"Now we just need to find a way to get close enough to the Wither Storm to blow it up." Jesse states matter-of-factly.

A guttural, inhuman noise vibrates through the air, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. The sound is unmistakable. I freeze. "It's behind me, isn’t it?"

Lukas’s wide eyes confirm it. He barely manages a nod.

"I was afraid of this." Soren mutters, covering his eyes. "With the End underwater, the Endermen will try to escape."

The room feels suddenly too small, too enclosed. "Maybe we should leave before more show up." Jesse suggests, a wary edge in his tone.

"Of course! To the minecarts, everyone!" Soren exclaims, pointing at the waiting carts. None of us hesitate. We pile in and speed off into the tunnels, the sound of Endermen screeching fading behind us.

As we barrel forward, the tunnel walls blur past, the minecart’s wheels clanking loudly against the tracks. Muffled groans and distant hisses echo all around us, sending a chill down my spine. A small beam of light glows at the tunnel’s end, a promise of escape. Then—Reuben squeals in distress.

A fraction of a second later, we slam into something. Hard.

The impact launches us out of the minecarts. My back hits the dirt, the air punched from my lungs. Scrambling to my feet, I reach for my sword, expecting an attack. But the mobs... they’re running past us. Ignoring us.

"Hey, there you are!" A familiar voice calls out.

My head snaps up. It's Magnus and Ellegaard!

"So glad you could make it!" Magnus grins.

The wind howls through the open field, whipping through my clothes. Nearby trees sway violently, their leaves rustling with a frantic energy. "Why did you leave us?!" Jesse demands, drawing his sword.

"Leave? Hah, we're right here!" Magnus lets out a nervous chuckle.

"You ditched us!" Jesse argues, his grip tightening on his weapon.

"Uh, we've been fighting this entire time!" Ellegaard explains. A sudden flash of green light cuts through the darkness. A creeper lunges toward Jesse, Magnus, and Ellegaard. They barely dodge before it detonates. The explosion rips through the ground, sending dirt flying. The noise rings in my ears, a deafening roar compared to the howling wind.

"Uh, what’s going on?!" Lukas yells over the chaos.

"You don’t have to worry about the monsters." Soren shouts, his voice nearly drowned out by the howling wind. "They’re running away!"

My stomach drops. "Then we should worry about what they’re running from..." Soren mutters, quieter this time.

I follow his gaze. A massive shadow looms over the horizon. The Wither Storm. It’s enormous, nearly blotting out the moon, its monstrous form writhing as its three heads scan the landscape.

A deafening roar splits the night, threatening to burst my eardrums. The ground trembles beneath us, making me clench my jaw to avoid letting out a wince.

"It’s Formidi-Bomb time!" Jesse declares.

And as I look at the storm, an overwhelming sense of dread settles in my chest, making my heart drop to my stomach as if pulled down by the weight of an anvil.

"Soren?" Ellegaard’s voice wavers in disbelief, eyes widening as if she can’t trust what she’s seeing.

"It's him! It's you!" Magnus exclaims, his voice caught between relief and lingering shock.

Soren stands before them, his presence heavy, as though time itself has worn him down. "Hello, friends." He greets, his tone grim, carrying the weight of old wounds and unspoken regrets.

"Ah, reunion." Gabriel's voice is unreadable, layered with something too complex to decipher in the moment.

Suddenly, a deafening roar tears through the air like a crack of thunder. I spin toward the Wither Storm, my stomach lurching. Its grotesque, writhing form looms over the battlefield, its three heads twisting unnaturally as if searching for prey. The ground beneath us quakes violently, loose dirt trembling as if recoiling from the monster’s presence. Then, as quickly as it came, the tremor stills—but the sense of impending doom lingers.

"Time to go! We only get one shot at this!" Soren’s voice is sharp, cutting through the chaos like a blade. His expression, normally composed, is painted with fear. "Remember, once the Formidi-Bomb is crafted, it'll explode in a matter of seconds. It means whoever is doing the crafting will be in extreme danger."

I open my mouth, ready to volunteer, but Jesse is faster. "I'll do it." He declares without hesitation.

"What?! No, Jesse, it should be someone expendable!" I blurt out, dread gripping my chest.

"You're not expendable, Y/N. None of us are." Jesse’s hand rests firmly on my shoulder, his touch steady despite the turmoil around us. His eyes—burning with determination—lock onto mine, unwavering. He won’t back down.

A lump forms in my throat. I let out a shaky sigh, knowing I can't change his mind. "Fine. Be careful. Please." I whisper, brushing his hand off, reluctant but resigned.

Ellegaard steps forward. "Speaking of, Jesse. Take my armor. It will help."

Magnus scoffs. "Nah, take mine. It's gotten me out of a lot of jams."

Jesse hesitates before finally stepping toward Ellegaard. Her lips press into a thin line, her gaze heavy with meaning. "Jesse, you deserve this. What you're doing means..." Her voice falters. Then she gasps. "We're all gonna die!"

The Wither Storm draws closer. A deep, guttural sound rumbles from its core, a terrifying symphony of destruction. Jesse hurriedly pulls Ellegaard's armor over his clothes, tightening the straps with urgency. There’s no time to waste.

We scatter, sprinting across the battlefield, dodging gnarled roots and the looming, purple tractor beams that cut through the landscape. Working as fast as our hands will allow, we construct distractions—twisted towers and chaotic structures, anything to divert the Wither Storm’s focus.

A sudden, blinding purple light engulfs my build. The structure groans under its grip, and I barely leap off before it crumbles into nothingness.

Jesse’s sharp warning pierces through the chaos, but it comes too late. A monstrous tendril swipes through the air, slamming into Magnus and Ellegaard. They crash against a tree with a sickening crack, their bodies limp as they collapse onto the ground.

My pulse pounds in my ears, but before I can react, a bright flash steals my attention.

Jesse.

He’s done it. He has the Formidi-Bomb.

Relief barely has a chance to settle before the structure beneath me groans in protest. I jump just as it collapses, but I’m not fast enough—something massive, slimy, and cold slams into my stomach, stealing the breath from my lungs. Pain explodes through my body as I’m flung backward, crashing into a thick tree trunk. My vision darkens at the edges, a sharp, searing agony radiating through my ribs. I barely register the sound of Lukas’s voice before my surroundings blur into white noise.

By the time I can focus, Lukas is gripping a fishing pole, his face set in fierce concentration. He casts it, and the hook latches onto Jesse’s armor just as the Formidi-Bomb slips from his grasp.

Then—

A blinding explosion.

A deafening boom.

The Formidi-Bomb detonates.

A violent, thunderous explosion erupts, the shockwave hitting me like a brick wall. My ears ring, the world tilting as Jesse is flung backward. I stagger to my feet, rushing forward. Jesse hurtles straight toward a tree—only to collide with me instead. The impact knocks the air from my lungs, and we both go sprawling into the dirt.

I gasp, my chest heaving, but I push myself upright. My vision swims, but one thing is clear—

The Wither Storm is falling.

Its massive, nightmarish form collapses, slamming into the ground with an earth-shaking crash. The twisted, writhing mass shudders once—then stills. Silence follows.

"Is that it?" Axel’s voice cuts through the eerie quiet, disbelieving. "Is it over?"

"I can't believe... it's actually dead!" Olivia breathes, her voice trembling between awe and sheer relief.

"You did it!" The words burst from me before I can think. I throw my arms around Jesse, gripping him tightly, the adrenaline and euphoria surging all at once.

He hugs me back, solid and warm. But as I pull away, I’m startled by my own reaction. My face heats up, but there's no time to dwell on it. The sky, once suffocated by darkness, is clearing. The rising sun peeks over the horizon, painting the world in soft, golden hues. A hopeful light after endless despair.

A joyful squeal breaks the moment. Reuben. He scampers to Jesse, his tiny form practically vibrating with excitement. Jesse crouches, ruffling his fur, a tired but genuine smile gracing his face.

"Hey, not to put a damper on the party, but where’s Ellegaard?" Olivia’s voice brings a sudden, crushing weight back down on us.

The celebration shatters like a sculpted glass structure being carelessly handled. We look around, the sinking feeling growing. Then Jesse sees her first.

Soren is kneeling beside her, his expression grave. His hand rests gently on her shoulder, as though he can keep her anchored to this world just a little longer. We rush to them, all the joy draining from the moment.

"You fought valiantly, my friend." Soren murmurs, sorrow coating every word.

Ellegaard’s breaths are shallow. Her eyelids flutter weakly, and her lips curl into the smallest of smiles. "You and I... both know... my fight... is over..."

"Save your strength, Ellegaard." Soren urges, his voice uncharacteristically tender. "We'll take care of this. We'll take care of you."

Jesse kneels beside her, gripping her hand. "Jesse... my armor... really suits you..." Ellegaard says, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers twitch, struggling to hold onto the moment. "I want you to keep it..."

Jesse lowers his head, his grip tightening. "Thank you, Ellegaard. For everything."

She chuckles weakly, the sound fragile. "I'm just glad I got the chance... to go... on one final adventure..." Her breaths are slowing. "Sorry that I... have to... take off a little early... Well, Soren... at least I got to be... a real hero, right?"

Her eyes start to close. Then, a deep, guttural groan echoes from the Wither Storm’s remains. People—hundreds of them—begin stumbling out of the lifeless creature, their forms dazed but alive.

"Those people! They're alive!" I exclaim, the revelation almost too much to comprehend. Jesse squeezes Ellegaard’s hand. "Jesse, you have to help them... all of them..." She whispers, the last traces of strength leaving her voice.

"I will. All of them." Jesse promises, his grip steady.

A small, almost invisible nod. Her lips part slightly—and then her fingers slip from his. Her body stills. A cold weight settles in my chest. She’s... gone.

Chapter Text

"You guys help the survivors! I have to find people who might be trapped!" Jesse orders.

We all nod in unison before splitting up, each of us moving through the wreckage, searching for survivors. The ground is littered with debris, chunks of stone and broken wood scattered like discarded puzzle pieces. The air is thick with dust and the faint, acrid smell of something unnatural, something corrupted.

As I help pull a dazed man to his feet, his eyes are hollow, glazed over with something that sends an uncomfortable chill down my spine. The Wither Storm did something to them. I don’t know what, but the vacant looks, the silent terror—it's not normal. A few mutter broken words of gratitude, their voices barely above whispers, while others just stand motionless, staring at nothing.

Then, a low rumble pulses beneath my feet. The earth trembles.

A sickening, mechanical whir echoes through the air. I turn, my stomach twisting into a knot. No. The ground splits, and a deafening, monstrous shriek rips through the sky as the Wither Storm rears its hideous heads. Its colossal form lurches upward, breaking free from the crater it fell into. My blood turns to ice as I watch in horror. The bomb didn’t kill it.

It split it.

Three separate storms now rise into the sky, their monstrous, swirling masses expanding, blocking out the sky once again. The sunlight vanishes beneath an unnatural purple haze, casting an eerie glow over the land. The survivors scream, panic erupting like wildfire as they scramble to flee.

Then, the winds howl, stronger than before, whipping through the ruins and throwing dust and debris into the air. Purple tractor beams spear down from above, sweeping across the ground, pulling anything in their path into the abyss.

"Jesse! Where are you?!" Axel’s voice is barely audible over the howling wind and the frightened cries of survivors. I whip my head around, searching for him through the chaos. The air is thick with swirling debris, blocks floating unnaturally, making it impossible to see clearly.

Then—movement. There! Jesse—dragging someone through the dust storm. My eyes widen. It's Petra.

I stumble backward, ducking behind the same jagged rock the others have taken shelter behind. My heart pounds against my ribs as Jesse staggers toward us, Petra’s form barely holding itself together beside him. She looks... lost.

"Petra?!" Lukas exclaims, his voice breaking with shock.

"Your missing friend?" Gabriel echoes, disbelief coloring his words.

Before Jesse can answer, a brilliant beam of purple light crashes down on us, shattering our cover into a spray of rubble. The force nearly knocks me off my feet. My pulse surges with adrenaline. "Go, go, go!"

I bolt for it. The ground shakes violently beneath me, and every step feels like running through a nightmare. The Wither Storm’s guttural wails vibrate in my chest, rattling my bones.

Through the chaos, Soren suddenly stops dead in his tracks.

"Soren?!" Jesse yells. "What are you doing?!"

Soren stands frozen, his wide eyes locked on the battlefield. "The Endermen... they’re running directly into danger!" His voice is tinged with something almost like awe.

"What are you talking about?! You're putting us in danger every second you stand there, dammit!" I snap, frustration clawing its way into my voice.

That seems to snap him out of it, and he stumbles back into motion.

Horses thunder past us in a frenzy, their panicked whinnies piercing through the storm’s howls. Gabriel stumbles, and Axel struggles to keep him upright.

"We can’t keep up!" Gabriel rasps, his strength faltering.

"Guys! The horses!" I yell over the roaring storm.

Jesse nods in realization and moves swiftly, reaching out for the closest frantic horse. I approach another, speaking in a low, steady tone as I stroke its muzzle. It takes a few moments, but the trembling animal finally calms under my touch.

"What about us?" Gabriel croaks, his voice weak. Petra stands nearby, her expression still distant, as if she’s trying to piece together where she is.

"I’ll take Gabriel! You take Petra!" Jesse commands, helping Gabriel onto his horse.

I reach for Petra’s hand. Her fingers are cold, hesitant—but she doesn’t resist. I pull her up behind me gently, and she settles against my back, silent.

Then—we ride. The landscape blurs into streaks of dark and violet, the wind screaming past my ears.

"It’s gaining on us!" Lukas shouts from ahead.

"We need to pick up the pace or we’re all done for!" Gabriel urges.

"First time on a horse here!" Jesse shouts nervously.

"Relax!" I call out, trying to offer some guidance despite the chaos. "Just trust your instincts! Don’t be afraid—they can sense that!"

Jesse lets out a breath, gripping the reins a little steadier.

Suddenly, a burst of fiery light explodes across our path. I reel my horse back as flaming skulls rain down like meteors, scorching the earth. "There! We need to ride over that—" Jesse starts, only to be cut off as another explosion obliterates the bridge ahead. Endermen dart around us in a frantic, chaotic storm, teleporting wildly, their shrieks slicing through the air.

"The Endermen—they’re slowing it down!" Soren exclaims, his voice filled with newfound hope. A few Endermen rip chunks of the Wither Storm apart, yanking blocks from its form. It writhes and bellows in fury.

"Guys, come on! We gotta build a new bridge!" Olivia urges.

We leap from our horses and scramble to construct a makeshift path, the creatures swarming just behind us. The horses follow close, hooves pounding against the fresh structure.

"Let’s go!" I yell, kicking my horse into motion the moment we reach the other side.

"Yeehaw! Wooo!" Axel whoops, throwing his fist into the air.

"Axel, you’re screaming in my ear!" Olivia scolds.

We don’t slow down until we reach the safety of a cave nestled deep in the mountains, far from the Wither Storm’s reach. Breathless. Exhausted. But alive, nonetheless.

"We made it! We actually freaking made it!" Jesse exclaims, breathless but triumphant, his voice carrying the kind of exhausted relief that comes after surviving the impossible.

The cave we found shelter in is cold, but it’s safe—for now. The wind howls softly outside, carrying the distant echoes of the Wither Storm’s destruction. Despite everything, Jesse’s smile is real. But I can’t bring myself to share it.

"Jesse, Petra was saying some weird stuff on that horse." I admit, shifting uncomfortably. The memory of her vacant expression, the way she barely reacted to anything—it’s gnawing at me.

"She might have Wither sickness." Gabriel suggests, his voice hoarse from exhaustion.

I hesitate before shaking my head. "I don’t know... you’ve never acted like that. Neither did my sister."

Jesse frowns, the weight of my words sinking in. "I’ll talk to her." He straightens and makes his way toward Petra, who stands at the edge of the cave, staring blankly at the wall, as if expecting answers to be written in the stone.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Jesse asks gently.

Petra’s shoulders tense slightly before she responds. "I... don’t know." Her voice is so uncharacteristically small, so fragile, that Olivia immediately steps forward. "I still can’t believe you’re alive!"

Axel, usually the loudest, hesitates before speaking. "Do you... not recognize us?" There’s something raw in his voice—hurt, concern, disbelief.

Petra doesn’t answer right away. She just... stares. There’s no flicker of recognition, no relief, nothing but a hollow confusion in her eyes. Jesse’s expression hardens as he puts the pieces together. "The Wither Storm did something to her."

A heavy silence falls over the cave. "So, she doesn’t remember anything?" Olivia asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Jesse’s lips press into a thin line. "Jesse, this is awful." Olivia mutters again, and for once, none of us can disagree.

Petra’s head tilts slightly, and for the first time since we found her, true desperation bleeds into her expression. "You. Jesse. You’re the one who rescued me. Tell me, please, what is going on?"

Jesse softens. "You were caught in the Wither Storm for a long time, Petra." His voice is quiet, careful.

"Really?" She shakes her head, as if trying to dislodge whatever mental fog is keeping her memories locked away. "I can’t remember any of it. All I know is... I was so scared in there. I thought for sure I was dying." Her voice wavers at that last part.

I’ve never seen her look so... vulnerable. Petra, the fearless warrior, the one who never backed down from a fight, the one who always had our backs—is lost.

"Well, you didn’t." Axel tries to assure her, forcing a smile. "You made it back alive."

"We didn’t all make it back, though." Olivia says grimly, lowering her gaze.

The mood shifts instantly. "Oh, man." Axel murmurs. "Ellegaard."

Gabriel, who had been sitting quietly, stiffens. "Are we talking about Ellegaard?"

Magnus exhales shakily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Oh, Ellie... couldn’t believe it then, still can’t." His usual arrogance is gone, replaced by something heavy, something grieving.

Soren clenches his fists. "How?! How could this happen?!" His voice cracks, frustration, and grief warring in his tone.

"All I know is she’d want us to keep fighting, no matter what." Jesse says, trying to keep the team from crumbling under the weight of loss.

But Soren isn’t done. "Ahh! Being emotional is getting us nowhere!" He throws his hands in the air, his voice sharp, grating. "What I want to know is what happened out there today! Why is that thing still alive?!"

I snap my head toward him, anger bubbling to the surface. "We should be asking you the same thing, Soren." I snarl. "It was your bomb, wasn’t it?"

Soren’s mouth snaps shut. "Your Formidi-Bomb failed." Jesse explains, his voice edged with exhaustion. "I mean, it ripped the Wither Storm apart, but it didn’t put a dent in the command block." Silence.

"So the command block is still out there?" Soren asks, though it sounds more like a realization than a question.

"Of course it is!" Jesse snaps.

"Oh great." Soren groans, running a hand through his hair. "And now to make things worse, we’ve gone from one Wither Storm... to three! Our plan was a total failure!"

Soren starts pacing, muttering under his breath.

"Look, our plan obviously didn’t work, so we need a new one." Jesse says, shaking his head. "The question is, what do we do?"

Soren exhales sharply. "Why are you asking me? I need a moment to think!" A heavy silence settles over the group—until Petra suddenly tilts her head. "Wait... that jacket... it looks familiar..."

I blink. Lukas shifts uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Lukas and Y/N always wear those jackets." Jesse explains. Petra’s eyes narrow, as if she’s grasping at something just out of reach. "No. I saw other people wearing them... when I was being thrown from that... that monster."

A flicker of hope ignites in Lukas’s expression. Jesse straightens. "Lukas, if what Petra says is true..."

Lukas's breath hitches. "My friends could still be out there."

"Yeah!" Jesse nods. "They might need you!"

Lukas doesn’t hesitate. He rushes toward a nearby chest, rummaging through it with frantic urgency.

"Lukas, what are you doing?" Jesse asks.

Lukas’s hands tighten around a bundle of supplies. "I told you—I’m going after my friends. I thought they were dead, but if they’re not, I need to find them."

Jesse’s expression darkens. "You can’t just up and leave, Lukas! We need you. You’re part of our team!"

"You saying that reminds me that I left my team." Lukas mutters. He exhales, his voice laced with emotion. "Look, you and me, we’ve made a pretty good team so far. I’d even call us friends. So I hope you’ll understand why I need to go help my old friends."

"I’m asking you, as a friend, please stay." Jesse begs, his tone quieter, more pleading. "We need you."

Lukas hesitates. His fingers twitch around the supplies in his hands. "You mean that?"

"Yes." Jesse says without hesitation. "We’re in this together. Whatever happens next... there’s no way we can do it without you two."

Lukas’s tense shoulders finally slump. His expression softens. "...Okay. I’ll stay." His voice is quieter, like he’s still processing his choice. "I just... I really hope they’ll be alright."

His grip loosens, and he sets the supplies down. "I’m gonna go check on the horses." His voice is distant as he turns away, heading toward the makeshift pens.

I watch him go, something twisting in my chest. He wanted to go so badly. And he stayed. But what if they really are still out there? And what if he never forgives himself for not going after them?

It wasn’t Jesse’s fault. It never was. Yet, Soren had the nerve to act like his so-called brilliant Formidi-Bomb failing was somehow on him.

Frustration burns in my chest as I step outside the cave, a sharp gust of wind cutting through my clothes. The night is eerily still aside from the distant, ominous groans of the Wither Storm. Snowflakes swirl through the air, glistening under the pale light of the moon. I lift a hand, catching a single flake in my palm. It lingers for only a second before melting against my skin, vanishing like it was never there at all.

I sink to the ground, hugging my knees to my chest, my gaze fixed on the monstrous silhouette in the distance. The purple tractor beams flicker ominously, stretching toward the sky, their glow pulsing like an open wound against the horizon. We were supposed to win. We were supposed to end this nightmare.

And yet...

If the Formidi-Bomb couldn’t even scratch the command block, what could? What were we supposed to do now?

A sharp squeal startles me out of my thoughts. "Rueben?" I blink as the little pig barrels toward me, his stubby legs kicking up tiny flurries of snow. He lets out another distressed squeak and nudges my arm insistently as if trying to shake me out of my downward spiral.

I exhale slowly, placing a hand on his head and rubbing back and forth. He lets out a small huff but relaxes under my touch. "Hey, what’s up, buddy?" I murmur.

"Rueben!" A voice calls from the cave entrance. I glance up just in time to see Jesse rushing toward us. His expression softens when his eyes meet mine, relief washing over his face.

"Oh, there he is." Jesse breathes, slowing to a stop. Rueben pulls away from me immediately, trotting over to Jesse.

"Don't run off on me like that!" Jesse scolds lightly, his tone somewhere between exasperation and fondness. Rueben lets out a tiny snort and pouts, his ears flicking back as if he understands every word.

Jesse shakes his head before dropping down beside me, his breath curling in the cold air. "I hope Gabriel will be okay." He admits after a moment. "I mean, he's supposed to be Gabriel the Warrior, instead he's..."

He trails off, staring down at his hands. I can tell the thought is weighing on him.

"Yeah." I say softly, not taking my eyes off the Wither Storm. "I heard the stories too. But none of the Order turned out to be how I imagined them."

Jesse lets out a slow sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. "The world needs us. So much of it has already been reduced to bedrock, and it's up to us to save the rest of it." His voice drops slightly, almost as if he's speaking to himself more than me. "Maybe it's a lot of pressure for a group like us and a pig. But we have to find a way."

I finally look at him, really look at him. The exhaustion in his eyes, the weight of responsibility pressing down on his shoulders. He’s trying so hard to stay optimistic, to hold everyone together. But deep down, he’s just as scared as the rest of us.

"You're right." I say. "But how exactly are we gonna do that? One of us, who's supposed to be a warrior, can't even lift a sword, and the other best fighter has amnesia."

Jesse doesn't hesitate. "We'll find a way. We have to."

Silence settles between us, but it's not uncomfortable. It's heavy, weighted with uncertainty, but not entirely hopeless.

I glance up, watching as the snow drifts lazily from the sky, catching on the edges of my sleeves and Jesse’s hair. The soft glow of moonlight reflects off the frost-covered ground, painting everything in an almost dreamlike haze.

Jesse exhales, his breath a wisp of white against the night air. "It's beautiful, the snow. If the world wasn’t ending... it’d almost be—" He hesitates, then mutters under his breath, "...romantic."

The word lingers between us.

I glance at him again, catching his gaze, and suddenly everything else fades away—the Wither Storm, the cold, the uncertainty of tomorrow. It’s just the two of us now, sitting in the snow, inches apart.

Neither of us moves at first. Then, Jesse shifts ever so slightly, his body angling toward me. I barely notice at first, but then his hand brushes against mine—hesitant, fleeting.

My pulse stutters. His fingers slide up my arm, the touch slow and cautious, as if he’s waiting for me to pull away.

I can feel his warmth through my sleeve, despite the biting chill in the air. His breath is warm against my skin as he leans impossibly closer, never breaking eye contact. His other hand traces up my arm gently, brushing against my shoulder before settling at the side of my face. My breath catches in my throat.

His thumb glides over my cheek, barely a whisper of contact, and my eyelids grow heavy. My heart pounds as he leans in, his lips hovering just over mine. He’s giving me the chance to stop this. To pull away. I don’t. Our breaths mingle in the cold night air, the world around us slipping into silence. The only sound is the distant howl of the wind and the faint, rhythmic thrum of the Wither Storm’s tractor beams in the distance. But none of that matters—not now.

Jesse hesitates for just a second longer, his fingers still cradling my face, as if afraid that the moment might shatter like fragile glass. But then, as if pulled by an unseen force, he closes the gap.

His lips meet mine, soft and tentative at first, as if he’s testing the waters, unsure if this moment is even real. The warmth of him spreads through me like a slow-burning fire, chasing away the cold that clings to my skin.

Chapter Text

After what feels like eternity, but is really only a second or two, my eyes fly open with a sudden realization. I press my hand to Jesse's torso, pulling back just enough to break the kiss, but Jesse's grip on my face prevents me from pulling back any farther.

The cold air rushes between us as I pull away, my breath mingling with the frigid night. Jesse's hold on my face remains firm, his thumb resting just beneath my cheekbone, as if he's reluctant to let me go. His eyes—still half-lidded and dazed—search mine, silently asking what's wrong.

I don't know how to answer.

My pulse is still hammering from the kiss, from the way he held me like I was something precious, something worth holding onto. But the realization settling in my chest is a cold, heavy weight. One that makes my throat tighten and my heart twist painfully.

I can't do this.

I avert my gaze, staring at the snow-covered ground as I struggle to find the right words. "Jesse, I..." My voice is barely above a whisper, brittle like cracked ice.

His fingers twitch against my skin, but he doesn't say anything. He just waits. Patient. Steady. Like he always is. That's the problem.

I shake my head, my chest tightening. "I'm not good for you."

Jesse blinks, his expression shifting from dazed confusion to something sharper, more alert. "What?" His voice is quiet, but there's an edge to it—like he's trying to understand something that doesn't make sense.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep going, even though the words taste bitter on my tongue. "I mean it. You're—" I let out a short, humorless laugh, though there's no real amusement behind it. "You're Jesse. You're good. You always do the right thing. You hold everything together even when the world is falling apart. You don't deserve... this." I gesture vaguely between us, my hands curling into fists.

Jesse's brow furrows, his grip on my face loosening slightly but not falling away completely. He tilts his head, studying me, confusion and frustration flickering across his expression. "That's not for you to decide." He says, his voice firm but not unkind.

I shake my head, taking a step back, but he doesn't let me go that easily. His fingers slip from my cheek only to catch my wrist, holding on just tight enough to keep me grounded. "Jesse, I—" My voice falters, uncertainty creeping into my tone. "You don't know what you're getting into."

He exhales sharply, his free hand raking through his hair. "You keep saying that, but you won't tell me what it means." He snaps, the frustration finally seeping through. "I know you, Y/N. I know you care about me. And I know you're scared—"

"I'm not scared!" I snap back, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know they're a lie.

Jesse's eyes narrow, challenging. "Yes, you are. And that's okay. But don't you dare tell me what I do and don't deserve."

His words hit something deep in me, something raw and frayed at the edges. My breath catches in my throat, and I tear my gaze away, staring at the ground as if it might have the answers I don't.

"You don't understand." I whisper.

"Then make me understand." Jesse pleads. His voice softens, but there's still steel beneath it. "You think I don't see it? How you flinch when someone raises their voice? How you never expect people to stay? You think I don't notice the way you act like you're not worth saving?"

I stiffen, my stomach twisting violently. "Stop."

Jesse doesn't. He steps closer, his presence warm despite the cold. "I don't care what you think you deserve, Y/N. You don't get to decide that for me. I want this. I want you."

I open my mouth, but no words come out. My fingers tremble at my sides, and I don't know what to do with them. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into something vast and unknown.

Jesse sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. He looks like he wants to shake me, but instead, he does something worse—he reaches for me again.

His hands find my face, gentler this time, as if afraid I might shatter. His thumbs trace slow, soothing circles against my skin, and I hate how easily I melt into the warmth of his touch.

"Just... let me in." He whispers. His breath ghosts over my lips, sending a shiver down my spine. "Please."

I squeeze my eyes shut, torn between the instinct to run and the unbearable pull drawing me closer to him.

"That's what I said, isn't it?!" A voice yells angrily, shattering the moment.

Both of us jerk back so fast we bump heads.

"Ow!" I yelp, clutching my forehead.

Jesse grimaces, rubbing his own head. "Sorry!" His voice is high, a little too quick. His face is flushed, the tips of his ears red. "I—uh—I'm an idiot, I shouldn't have done that." He forces a nervous chuckle, but I can see the conflict in his eyes.

Heat fans across my face as I realize just how close we had been. "It's fine." I mumble, averting my gaze. "Should we, uh... go check that out?" I gesture toward the voices, desperate for a distraction.

"Yeah." Jesse mutters, standing up quickly. "Yeah, we should."

We make our way toward the sound, following the voices echoing through the cave. Jesse spots a ladder leading up toward the noise. The arguing grows louder as we climb. Jesse goes up first, and I follow closely behind.

At the top, we step into the open—only to find Soren and... Ivor?!

"Soren, you need to listen to me!" Ivor urges, his voice tense.

"Oh, what good has ever come of that?!" Soren snaps back.

"Would you both stop arguing?!" Jesse yells, startling them both.

"Oh, this isn't an argument." Soren grits out. "It's me trying to make Ivor leave us alone."

"Why is he even here?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at Ivor.

Ivor's gaze flickers toward me. "I told you, Soren. I wouldn't have followed you here without good reason!"

He gestures toward the Wither Storm, the urgency in his face making my stomach twist.

"What you don't understand is, you're all in grave danger!" Ivor exclaims.

"Ha! Obviously!" Soren scoffs.

Ivor shakes his head. "No, I mean specifically this group! The Wither Storm isn't acting randomly—it's following Gabriel!"

My hands curl into fists. "Can I punch him?" I ask flatly.

Jesse's hand lands on my wrist, his thumb running over my knuckles in a silent plea to let it go. I huff but unclench my fingers.

Ivor exhales, rubbing his temple. "You see, I may have... programmed it to follow Gabriel's amulet."

Jesse stiffens beside me.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Jesse and I exchange a glance, tension thick between us. His grip tightens around the amulet before he jerks it free, holding it up for Ivor to see.

"Did you also know Gabriel gave the amulet to me?" Jesse hisses, his fingers tightening around the glowing artifact.

Ivor's face pales. "What? I... didn't know." His voice wavers with guilt.

"You fool!" Soren snarls, stepping forward. His usual air of controlled arrogance cracks, revealing genuine fury beneath. "You've created a monster that's following Jesse! And it's only getting stronger!"

I clench my fists, barely resisting the urge to swing at Ivor right then and there. "Now can I punch him?" I ask, my voice low, teeth grit in frustration.

"By all means, be my guest!" Soren exclaims, throwing up his hands in exasperation.

Jesse sighs sharply and shakes his head, placing a firm hand on my wrist in silent restraint. His thumb grazes my knuckles—a quiet reminder to stay focused.

Ivor scowls, crossing his arms. "You don't think I realize it's getting stronger?! Nothing can stop those things! Nothing even hurts them!" His voice rises with frustration.

"Well..." Jesse mutters, his brow furrowing. "Except Endermen."

A pause. The words settle over the group like a spark in dry leaves.

Jesse's eyes sharpen. "We just saw a bunch of Endermen pull blocks off the Wither Storm."

Soren straightens, suddenly alert. "Yes! When the Wither Storm's gaze passed over them, they went wild."

Excitement flutters in my chest. "So, enough of them working together might be able to destroy a Wither Storm entirely!"

Soren's face lights up as the idea solidifies. "Precisely!"

Jesse, however, looks unconvinced. "But to destroy a Wither Storm entirely, we'd need hundreds of them."

"There are more than enough taking refuge at my fortress!" Soren insists, his mind already racing.

"This is just like the old days, Soren. You and your crazy ideas—like taking the command block from that—"

"Ivor." Soren cuts him off, his tone sharp, "hush for once!" He presses two fingers to his temple, thinking quickly. "The question is... how do we bring the storms and the Endermen together?"

I glance at Jesse, then down at the amulet still clutched in his hand. The realization clicks.

"The amulet." I speak up. "The Wither Storm follows it, right?"

Jesse blinks, then nods. "Wait... Y/N might be onto something. If we take the amulet back to Soren's fortress, back to where the Endermen are—"

"Yes! Yes, that's it!" Soren's face lights up. "We'll lead them straight into a trap!"

A triumphant spark flares in my chest, but Ivor, ever the pessimist, interjects. "Just one problem—you're forgetting about the command block."

Soren groans, exasperated. "Ugh, yes. It's clear now—no weapon can destroy it. Not even the Formidi-Bomb."

"Actually..." Ivor's lips curl into a smirk, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "I may have a solution to that."

Silence falls.

"You see, when I first took possession of the command block—"

"You mean stole it." Soren snarls.

Ivor waves him off. "Yes, well. I created a failsafe—a backup plan, just in case."

I cross my arms, skeptical. "What kind of failsafe?"

"An enchanting book." Ivor explains. "One that contains the power of the command block itself! Use it to enchant a weapon, and you'll be able to smash the command block to pieces."

Jesse straightens, suddenly alert. "And I don't suppose you just so happen to have this enchanting book on you?"

I scoff. "Yeah, let me guess—it's locked away in some obscure dungeon halfway across the world?"

Ivor clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. "Well... not a dungeon, but it is at my secret lab. Which is sort of... far away."

Jesse narrows his eyes. "How far?"

Ivor hesitates. "Let's just say it's the farthest place a person could travel before being utterly—"

A monstrous roar rips through the sky, cutting him off.

The ground rumbles.

I feel my stomach plummet as we all rush to the ladder, practically tumbling down in our haste.

We reach the surface just in time to see it—the Wither Storm, impossibly larger than before, its tendrils writhing violently as it soars through the sky, moving toward us like an unrelenting force of nature.

"How did it find us so quickly?!" Olivia gasps, panic creeping into her voice.

Jesse's expression hardens. "Guys, we have a plan—"

"Ivor?" Magnus interrupts, his voice sharp with disbelief.

Ivor immediately shrinks back behind Soren. "A pleasure, as always, Magnus." He mutters.

Jesse presses on. "Anyway! Ivor figured out that the Wither Storm is following the amulet, so we're gonna lure them back to Soren's fortress and destroy the command block with an enchanted superweapon!" He finishes, breathless.

"You two figured all that out, just now?" Olivia asks, skeptical.

Jesse doesn't respond—he just tightens his grip on the amulet.

"We need to move." Ivor urges. "We're not safe—not as long as we have that amulet!"

"I'll take it."

Axel steps forward, reaching for the amulet.

Jesse's jaw tightens. "There's no way I can let you do that, Axel."

Axel's gaze is steady. "You don't understand. I'm not asking. I thought you trusted me by now. You go make that superweapon—I'll meet you back at Soren's fortress." A grin flickers across his face, but there's something serious behind it.

"What about Gabriel?" Lukas asks.

"The rest of you go. I'll take care of Gabriel." Magnus steps forward, placing a firm hand on Jesse's shoulder. "And Jesse? Take care of them, yeah?" His eyes flicker toward me.

I arch a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Magnus just chuckles. "Eh, you'll learn later."

Axel suddenly turns to me, looking awkward. "Hey, Y/N... one last thing. I know I said some harsh stuff back in the Nether. You're not all that bad."

A grin tugs at my lips. "All is forgiven."

Axel laughs, relieved.

Jesse exhales. "Alright, we need to go—now!"

No more hesitation.

We saddle up the horses, wind whipping against our faces as we take off into the night.

An Uncertain Amount of Time Later...

We've traveled for what feels like days. Through rainy plains, sprawling mesa dunes, jagged ice spires, and thick, tangled jungles. Now, we push through the swamplands, the humid air thick and heavy around us.

"My butt has never been so sore in my life." Petra groans, shifting uncomfortably in her saddle.

"Hah, I feel like we've been riding forever. Lukas agrees, rolling his shoulders.

As we ride, Soren and Ivor—who have somehow ended up side by side—are deep in yet another heated argument.

"No, no, no! They're perilous and dangerous!" Soren protests, his voice sharp with warning.

"Y'know, I think I've heard of the Farlands before." Jesse muses.

"I'd be surprised if you hadn't." Ivor retorts, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

I frown, shifting in my saddle. "Okay, what are the Farlands?"

Ivor's expression turns incredulous. "You've never heard of the Farlands? Have you spent your whole life living under a rock?!"

I roll my eyes. "Nope. A forest outside of Beacontown."

Ivor blinks, his curiosity momentarily overriding his exasperation. "Why were you living in a forest?" His voice loses some of its edge, softening just slightly.

I shrug, my grip tightening on the reins. "I don't know. Ask my dead parents." A beat of silence. "Now, will you tell me what the Farlands are?"

Ivor and Soren exchange a wide-eyed glance, something unspoken passing between them.

"What?" I demand, my patience thinning.

"Nothing." Ivor mutters quickly. "It... it can't possibly be the same."

Before I can ask what the hell that means, Soren interjects, his tone as stiff as ever. "The Farlands lie at the very edge of all things. Where logic gives way to chaos. It is a dangerous place to visit, and an absurd place to construct a laboratory!"

"Just wait until you see it." Ivor chuckles darkly, a hint of amusement lacing his words.

Olivia shifts uncomfortably in her saddle. "Maybe we should turn back."

"This isn't the time. Swamps are full of dangers." Ivor warns.

"We can't turn back now." Jesse argues. "Not after coming so far."

Olivia exhales heavily. "Fine. But I'm taking a break." Without another word, she swings herself off her horse.

Lukas follows suit, sliding down and offering me a hand. I glance at it before accepting, letting him help me off our shared horse. My boots sink slightly into the damp ground, the thick mud squelching with every step.

Jesse surveys the group. "Everyone okay?"

"Not really. We're starving." Olivia groans.

The swamp around us buzzes with the sound of chirping crickets, the sky overhead a dull, stormy gray. The air smells of damp moss and decay, thick with the scent of stagnant water.

Jesse steps toward the murky swamp water. "Where are you going?" I ask, watching him warily.

"To find food." He answers simply.

I roll my shoulders and step forward. "I'll go with you."

He looks like he wants to argue, but I don't give him the chance. I wade into the water beside him, my boots sinking slightly into the muddy bottom. As we gather potatoes, Jesse suddenly freezes. I follow his gaze.

A crooked wooden shack sits on spindly stilts, half-hidden behind a wall of tangled vines. Smoke curls lazily from the chimney, the soft flicker of candlelight glowing through a small window.

A witch's hut.

"Lovely." I mutter under my breath.

"A witch's hut!" a voice suddenly exclaims, making Jesse and me both jump.

"Jeez, dude! Can you not?" I hiss, glaring at Ivor.

"We should steer clear of it." Ivor warns, his voice hushed but firm. "Nothing good ever happens when a witch is involved."

"Look, a cake!" Jesse points at the windowsill, where a freshly baked cake sits, untouched. "That's enough to feed everyone!"

Ivor shakes his head. "It isn't worth it. Witches hate trespassers. Besides, there are plenty of potatoes around."

A soft, eerie laugh echoes from beyond the trees. A dark figure darts between the shadows, barely visible through the thick mist curling along the swamp floor.

"Is that a witch?" Jesse whispers.

Ivor takes a step back. "We shouldn't be here! Witches are very strong!"

Jesse clenches his jaw. "Ivor, I can't pass this up."

I step forward. "Wait." Jesse glances at me. "Here, give me the potatoes you gathered. I'll take them back to the group."

He hesitates, then nods. "Good thinking." He murmurs, handing them over.

I turn on my heel and head back, careful to move quickly but not make too much noise.

A Few Minutes Later...

The potatoes have been passed out. Now, we're just waiting.

Then, chaos erupts.

A splash potion whizzes past my arm, shattering against a tree trunk. A hissing purple cloud spreads through the air, the sharp smell of poison stinging my nose.

I whip around.

A dark figure lunges toward us—long, tattered robes billowing, wild hair tangled beneath a crooked hat. The witch.

Before I can react, arrows whistle past my ear, embedding themselves into the ground beside me. Skeletons.

"Horses!" Olivia cries as the animals rear up in fright, their panicked whinnies piercing the air.

"Hey, witch!" Jesse's voice rings out over the chaos, drawing every hostile gaze toward him. The witch turns her back to me, and I bolt forward.

Slamming into her full force, I drive her to the ground. She lets out a furious screech, but I'm already scrambling back to my feet.

"Go, run!" I yell. Jesse doesn't hesitate. The others take off at a full sprint, skeletons in hot pursuit. I follow, my breath coming in sharp bursts as we tear through the dark grass and murky water of the swamp.

"Ivor said the Farlands are just past this swamp!" Jesse yells, dodging past a tree.

"Wait—where is Ivor?!" Soren demands, glancing around frantically.

"Last I saw, he was with you keeping watch!" I shoot back.

"I don't know! He disappeared outside the witch's hut!" Jesse pants.

"Curse that fool of a man!" Soren growls.

We push forward, our legs burning with exertion. The thick trees and tangled vines begin to thin, giving way to open land.

Then—

"Wow." Jesse breathes, skidding to a stop. I turn to see what he's looking at.

A massive wall of floating islands stretches before us, jagged landmasses hovering in midair, defying all logic. Water cascades down from unseen sources, glowing in the fading twilight. It's like the very foundation of the world broke apart and never bothered to fix itself. The sight is mesmerizing.

"I see your wow, and turn it into a woah." Lukas murmurs.

"It's like we're at the edge of the world." Olivia mutters, awestruck.

Soren, unimpressed, simply folds his arms. "Actually, we seem to be at the corner of it. Welcome to the Farlands, everyone."

A rush of exhilaration surges through me. "We did it! Woohoo!" I laugh and throw my arms around Jesse in a sudden hug.

"Whoa—!" He yelps, stumbling as he instinctively grabs onto me for balance. It doesn't work. We both go down, hitting the grass with a thud.

"Oof!" Jesse groans, blinking up at me.

I push myself up slightly—only to realize how close we are. My hands are planted beside his head, his arms are still loosely wrapped around my waist. Our faces are inches apart, breaths mingling in the cool air. Neither of us move. Neither of us speak.

"Ahem." Lukas clears his throat.

I jerk back, heat flaring across my face as I scramble to my feet.

Jesse, looking equally flustered, coughs and rubs the back of his neck. "Uh—sorry."

"Sorry!" I squeak at the same time, reaching down to offer him a hand. He takes it, avoiding eye contact as I pull him up. "Let's... let's get going." Jesse mutters, quickly following Soren.

Olivia slides up beside me. "So..." She whispers mischievously. "Are you two a couple yet?"

"What?! What makes you say that?!" I whisper-yell, my voice barely containing the rising panic.

"Did you forget what just happened?" Olivia asks, a mischievous glint in her eye.

I stay silent, willing the heat creeping up my neck to disappear. The last thing I need is Olivia adding fuel to whatever ridiculous assumptions she's cooking up in her head.

"We aren't a couple. Probably never will be." I hiss, hoping to end the conversation before it spirals out of control.

"Aww, Olivia, give the lovebirds a break." Lukas announces loudly, a smug grin playing on his lips.

I whip around to glare at him just as Jesse and Soren pause mid-step, turning to look at us. Jesse's eyes are wide, his expression a mix of confusion and—oh no, embarrassment.

"We're not lovebirds!" I huff, throwing my arms up in frustration. "How many times do I have to say it?!"

"Wait, really?" Soren arches an eyebrow, his voice laced with genuine surprise.

"Wait, this entire time, you thought we were together?" Jesse asks, his tone almost incredulous.

Soren simply nods. I let out a strangled noise, burying my face in my hands. Someone, please, just strike me down now.

"Ah well, a missed opportunity, I suppose." Soren says, completely unfazed as he gestures toward a dark tunnel lit faintly by glowstone. "This way, I suspect."

I don't dare lift my head as we follow him, my footsteps echoing in time with the others. Finally, Olivia and Lukas seem to have run out of things to say.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, a towering structure greets us—massive cracked stone walls, choked by wild vines and stretching toward the sky.

"Is this... a maze?" Olivia questions, her voice uneasy.

"It would appear so. A massive one from the looks of it. If Ivor built this with the command block, it could hold unspeakable peril." Soren answers grimly, his sharp gaze taking in the scale of the labyrinth.

Lukas exhales, his usual lighthearted tone gone. "So, maybe we shouldn't just wander into the world's hardest maze without a guide."

"Unfortunately, this seems to be the only way forward." Soren replies, crossing his arms.

"There has to be another way." Olivia insists, scanning the area for an alternative route.

"There's no way we're going into some crazy maze Ivor built to keep people away! We'll find some other way through." Jesse adds firmly.

I step away from the group, carefully maneuvering through the tall grass and twisted roots, searching for any possible opening.

"Everyone! On guard!" Soren's warning slices through the air. A chorus of guttural groans rises from within the maze. Dark silhouettes stagger into view, their rotting limbs reaching hungrily toward us.

"Guys! Climb the vines!" Jesse yells over the rising noise.

My eyes snap upward. He's right—we can climb over the maze instead of running through it. I lunge for the nearest vine, gripping tightly as I haul myself up. The rough greenery digs into my palms, but I don't let go.

Lukas reaches the top first and extends a hand. I grasp it, letting him help pull me onto the moss-covered wall. "That worked, I suppose." Soren mutters, brushing dust off his coat.

"Yeah, but now what?" Lukas asks, motioning toward Jesse, who's still making his way along the ground, far from where we landed.

"Let's head that way and find a place where the paths connect." Jesse calls out, pointing toward a distant structure. We nod and carefully begin making our way across the precarious stone walls, each step needing to be precise. The wrong move could send us plummeting back into the maze below.

The closer we get to the structure, the more confident I feel—until Lukas stumbles.

"Lukas!" I grab for him instinctively, barely managing to catch his wrist before he slips over the edge. His weight jerks my balance forward, my muscles straining as I struggle to pull him up.

"Y/N, here, let me help!" Olivia rushes over, grabbing my shoulders.

Instead of pulling, she pushes.

I lurch forward, losing what little stability I had left.

And then, we both go tumbling over the side. The impact is sharp and jarring, knocking the air from my lungs as I land hard on the cold stone below. For a few seconds, neither Lukas nor I move, too stunned to react.

"Are you two okay?" Soren calls from above. Lukas groans, rubbing the back of his head. "I think so."

"We'll be fine. Meet you guys at the end." I say, pushing myself upright and offering Lukas a hand. He takes it, pulling himself to his feet with a wince.

Time Skip...

Lukas and I have been weaving through the maze for what feels like an eternity, the endless walls stretching on without an exit in sight.

Then, distant voices echo off the towering stone, carried by the wind. And among them, snorting.

"Reuben!" My heart leaps. "Lukas, I think we're close!"

Lukas grins, his exhaustion forgotten as he breaks into a sprint toward the voices. I keep pace beside him, the sound of hurried footsteps and familiar chatter drawing nearer. A flash of red darts past us.

"Petra, Soren! Wait up!" Lukas calls.

They skid to a stop, spinning around. Petra looks at us, then over our shoulders, her eyes widening.

"Hurry, run!" She urges.

"Why? What are we running from?" I start to ask, but as if on cue, a low chorus of groans rises behind us.

I turn my head just in time to see a horde of green, decaying figures shuffling toward us, their dead eyes locked onto our group.

"Oh. That's what we're running from." I mutter.

No more questions are needed. I grab Lukas's wrist and bolt.

The towering walls blur past as we race forward, our boots pounding against the uneven ground.

Finally, the maze ends, opening into a clearing—a patch of grass leading to a gaping chasm. On the other side, Jesse and Olivia stand beside some sort of Redstone contraption. Reuben tilts his head, his confusion mirroring theirs.

"Everybody get on!" Jesse shouts, eyes flicking toward the growing swarm of zombies behind us.

Without hesitation, we scramble onto the machine. Jesse lights the fuse with his flint and steel, and the mechanism jerks to life, lurching forward.

Jesse lingers behind, waiting until the last possible second before running at full speed, dodging between the undead.

He leaps just as the machine starts to hover over the chasm, his fingers grasping for the edge.

I don't think. I just move. I grab his wrist, pulling him up with a quick, forceful tug.

Jesse lands beside me, breathing heavily. "That was close. Everyone okay?"

"For the moment." Soren mutters.

A sudden outburst makes me jump. "Slime!" Petra yells, her voice full of realization.

I blink. "Uh... what?"

Petra frowns, rubbing her temple. "I remember something with slime. And... chickens."

Jesse's eyes light up. "Yes! We used slime to break a chicken machine! There were chickens everywhere!" Soren gives him a bewildered look.

Petra groans, shaking her head. "Weird, yeah. I kind of remember. But... ugh, it's already fading. Fading.. and... gone."

I cross my arms, averting my gaze as I feel Soren's stare lingering on me. "Trust me, Petra. Some things are better left in the past."

The machine slows to a stop. Ahead of us, a dirt path stretches forward, merging into a stone staircase lit by flickering torches.

I take a deep breath and step off the barge.

Whatever's waiting for us next... we're about to find out.

Chapter Text

As the others step off the machine, Soren looks like he’s seen a ghost. His normally composed expression is pale with unease, his hands trembling ever so slightly as he exhales.

"That was amazing! Get it? A-maze-ing?" Petra chuckles, nudging Jesse.

I can’t help but let a small grin creep onto my face, but Lukas groans beside me. "I’m just amazed you thought that was funny." He grumbles under his breath. I roll my eyes and nudge his shoulder—hard enough to make him stumble slightly.

"Let’s go see what he’s hiding in there." Jesse urges, pointing to the shadowy silhouette of a house looming just ahead.

As we approach, an eerie silence blankets the area. The usual nighttime sounds—crickets, rustling leaves, distant howls—are absent. The world itself feels as if it’s holding its breath. It’s too quiet.

Jesse reaches for the iron doors and pushes them open with a groan of metal against metal. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of old parchment and faint traces of alchemy. Rows upon rows of towering bookcases stretch toward the ceiling, their spines coated in a fine layer of dust and cobwebs. Glowstone overhead casts flickering shadows across the wooden floor, illuminating bottles of strange-colored liquids on nearby tables.

"How can one person need this many books?" Petra mutters, trailing her fingers along a dust-coated shelf.

"Ask my dad." I comment absentmindedly, my voice quieter than I intended.

A beat of silence follows, but then Olivia clears her throat. "We should be careful. This place could be booby-trapped."

"Let’s just start looking for the enchanting book." Jesse says, shaking off the unease, and we all disperse.

I scan the shelves, my fingers brushing over the thick spines of ancient books. Some titles are written in languages I don’t recognize, and though the dust makes it clear these haven’t been touched in years, the books themselves are in pristine condition—almost like they shouldn’t be.

My breath catches for a moment, my fingers tightening slightly against one of the covers. No. Not again. Not another repeat of—

I shake the thought away, inhaling deeply. Focus. This isn’t that library.

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours, and frustration begins gnawing at the edges of my patience. No progress. Jesse is off doing—whatever Jesse does—and the others continue searching.

Then, a deep mechanical rumble breaks the silence.

I whip around, my pulse quickening. The fireplace—its lava has stopped flowing. And behind it, a dark stairwell yawns into the unknown.

A secret passageway. Because, of course, Ivor has one.

"Why would you build a secret passageway in a house nobody visits?" Lukas questions, arms crossed as he eyes the dark stairwell suspiciously.

"More like, why wouldn’t you?" Jesse counters, grinning. "Secret passageways are cool."

Soren exhales sharply and starts down the stairs without another word. We follow.

The moment Soren’s foot presses into a particular step, a soft click echoes beneath us, followed by the sharp snap of Redstone circuits flaring to life. The air shifts.

"Wait, Soren—" I start, but it’s too late.

With a grinding of stone against stone, the wall ahead of us slides shut.

Jesse and Soren are on one side.

The rest of us are trapped on the other.

Lukas lunges for the closing gap, but it slams shut with a final, echoing thud.

"Are you guys okay?" Jesse’s muffled voice calls from the other side.

"We’re fine, but the lever isn’t working!" Olivia says, flipping the switch repeatedly. Sparks flare along the edges, but nothing happens.

"Stay there! We’ll head down and see what we can find!" Jesse calls.

I exhale through my nose and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to smother the frustration building in my chest.

An uncertain amount of time later...

The wall finally slides open with a groan.

Lukas and Olivia stand over a dismantled section of Redstone circuits, their faces triumphant.

"It worked!" Lukas exclaims.

"Yeah, now let’s go find Jesse and Soren." I say, rolling my shoulders as I step past them. "They’ve probably found that enchanting book by now."

Descending the remainder of the stairwell, we step into a room lined with a checkered pattern of white and red carpet. The air is dense, as if thick with unspoken secrets.

A row of hoppers labeled 1-5 sits neatly in the corner, their metal frames cold under the dim glowstone light. Empty pedestals line the carpet in an almost ceremonial fashion. At the far end, an iron door stands slightly ajar.

We move forward.

Beyond the door, another chamber stretches before us, vastly different from the last.

Obsidian pillars loom over us like silent sentinels, their jagged forms stark against the soft golden light of glowstone lanterns. Each pillar is adorned with a banner, each bearing an emblem—TNT, a bow, a sword, and a Redstone torch.

The Order’s symbols. One for each member.

Jesse and Soren have already gone ahead, the next iron door hanging open. We follow. The hallway beyond is brightly lit, its polished stone walls reflecting the flickering torches that line the way. Voices—raised, angry—echo through the passage.

"He kept them! The fool actually kept them!"

"You said destroying the End Crystals was the key to defeating the Ender Dragon. You did kill the Ender Dragon, right?"

My pace quickens. Jesse and Soren are close. As we step into the next chamber, the sight before us makes my breath hitch.

The air is pink. A strange glow tints the room, casting a haunting hue over everything. At the center, six levitating End Crystals hover ominously, their radiance pulsing like a heartbeat.

Soren stands before them, his expression twisted with shame. Jesse paces in front of him, fury carved into every line of his face.

"Jesse, this isn’t—this isn’t what it looks like!" Soren pleads, oblivious to our presence.

"What really happened, Soren?" Jesse’s voice is sharp, unwavering. "If you didn’t destroy the Ender Crystals—"

"I—I can’t!" Soren’s voice shakes. "We swore never to speak of it!"

"I think it’s time to start talking." Jesse snarls, his tone full of ice.

Soren crumbles. "Very well. We did defeat the Ender Dragon. But it wasn’t... exactly like I said."

Jesse narrows his eyes. "How not exactly?"

Soren exhales, turning away as if ashamed to face him. "We got rid of it, but we didn’t kill it per se."

Jesse’s patience snaps. "So what did you do to it?!"

Soren clenches his fists. "We didn’t do anything to it! We used that damned Command Block!"

The room goes still. "You used the Command Block to defeat the Ender Dragon?!" Jesse repeats, his voice laced with disbelief.

Soren’s shoulders sag. "I’m afraid so."

A new voice sneers from the entrance. "So you finally admit it."

Ivor.

He strides past us, his eyes gleaming with something between triumph and disgust. "Soren, how could you?!" Olivia asks, her voice laced with betrayal.

"How long have you guys been standing there?" Jesse mutters, his previous anger momentarily overshadowed by surprise.

"Long enough that they heard the whole thing!" Ivor answers for us. 

"You lied, to the whole world!" Lukas scowls, his fists clenching.

"You didn't think you could keep it forever did you Soren?!" Ivor snarls, stepping towards Soren.

"Is.... this why you left the order? Because Soren lied?" Jesse asks, eyeing Ivor. 

 "They all did! Soren, Gabriel, Magnus, Ellegaard! They agreed to keep this a secret!" Ivor hisses. 

"And you! You agreed to stay quiet too! In exchange for all of the order's treasures!" Soren yells angrily, jabbing a finger at Ivor. 

"I've technically never told anybody. Jesse discovered the truth on his own!" Ivor defends, avoiding Soren's gaze. 

"So this whole thing, this wither, was all to teach the order a lesson?!" Lukas asks, in disbelief. 

"To teach the world a lesson! To show you who the order really are!" Ivor snaps back. 

 "How did you even get your hands on a command block in the first place?! There's only one, and last I checked, my father had it!" I snarl, anger and frustration boiling in my blood. 

 "Your father?" Soren asks, looking at me wide-eyed. 

"Well, since we're spilling our secrets I don't see the harm in telling you." Ivor says, pulling something green and fuzzy out of his pocket. He looks down at the object with... affection? 

Soren sighs deeply. "Very well. The night we found the command block, all five of us were roaming the woods. Then, smoke rising from the treetops caught our attention. We went to check it out, and found a house. Can you believe that? A house in the middle of the woods! Anyway, it was on fire. As we got closer, there was a man and a small child, outside of the house. The man had a sword and was waving it at a child. The little child was bleeding, and they had a pickaxe. Well, the man swung at them, but then the child hit the man over the head with their pickaxe and kept hitting him until he bled. Then, they passed out and fainted. Finally, we approached and checked both of them. The man was dead by the time he hit the ground, but the child was still alive. So, I insisted on looking for more survivors. We put the fire out and went in. Ellegaard and Magnus stayed with the kid, and we searched the house. There was one more, a woman. Dead. Then, I found a secret lab underneath the house. That's where I found the command block. After that, we took the child to a hospital and waited for them to wake up. When the child did, we tried asking them questions and just tried to communicate with them, but they never spoke a word. Didn't respond to anything. They looked terrified, and they had marks and scars on their arms and legs." Soren explains, his eyes softening. 

 My eyes widen in shock. They're the ones who got me to a hospital that night, that's why they look so familiar... 

 "The child did respond to one thing. I found this in the house." Ivor explains, holding up the fuzzy green object. It's a plushie of some kind. "I gave this to them, and they held on to it tight, like it meant something to them. But, Gabriel got frustrated and stood up to call a nurse. That's what set them off, the child flinched and fell off the bed the doctors had placed them on. The kid kept moving away, and when Ellegaard tried to approach them, they saw it as an opportunity to run. They bolted. We never saw the child again. But, when the child ran, they left this zombie plushie. They forgot it in their panic. Even after all this time, I've held onto it. I hope one day to see them again, and give it back." Ivor explains, pulling something from his pocket. A small, green plush toy.

A zombie plushie.

My breath catches in my throat. The sight of it—so pristine, so familiar—sends a chill down my spine.

Soren's face pales. Ivor's expression softens.

"You... and you... and the others... " My voice barely makes it past my lips. "You were all there that night..."

Soren stiffens. "Pardon?" Ivor's eyes lock onto mine as a storm of recognition flashes across his face. The pieces finally, irrevocably, click into place.

"It was you." I whisper.

And just like that, the past crashes down around us."I was that child! I was the one you took to a hospital! That man you saw die was my father!" I yell, making them both jump. Soren stumbles back a step as if the weight of my words physically struck him. His eyes, usually sharp with intelligence or clouded with guilt, are wide with disbelief.

"What?!" His voice cracks slightly as if his mind refuses to connect the past with the present.

Ivor’s reaction is more subdued but no less intense. He takes a slow step forward, his fingers tightening around the plushie in his hands. His expression is unreadable—part shock, part something deeper, something almost… regretful.

"No... No, it can’t be..." He mutters, his scrutinizing gaze scanning my face, searching for a lie.

But there is none.

"It is." I say, my voice steady despite the storm raging in my chest. I don’t waver, I don’t look away. I force him to see me—to recognize me.

A long silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. Then, Ivor exhales. The tension in his shoulders deflates ever so slightly, and his grip loosens on the object in his hands.

"It really is you..." His voice is quieter now, filled with something almost reverent. Slowly, carefully, he extends his hand, revealing the small, worn plushie resting in his palm.

"Well then." He murmurs, meeting my gaze. "I believe this is yours."

I stare at it. For a moment, I can’t move. The little green plushie, stitched together with care, with love—looks exactly as I remember. The seams are tight, the fabric unfrayed, as if time itself never dared to touch it.

I reach out, hesitating just before my fingers graze the soft fabric. When I finally take it, I half expect it to disintegrate in my hands, for this moment to shatter like glass.

But it doesn’t. It’s real. Solid. The same toy my mother made. The last piece of home I had left. A lump rises in my throat, and I swallow hard. I clutch the plushie tighter, as if holding onto it might somehow bring back everything I lost.

It won’t. But for now... it’s enough.

Chapter Text

"Enough with the sappy moment! Look, my wither plan obviously backfired." Ivor grumbles, cutting through the moment like a blade. His pacing is frantic, his hands gesturing wildly as he speaks.

"You think?!" Olivia scoffs, crossing her arms as she fixes him with a pointed glare.

"I didn't know we would end up with three of those things tearing the world apart!" Ivor rants, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Which brings us back to why we're here. We have to destroy the command block! Like now!" Jesse urges, his voice firm, his fists clenching.

"Jesse's right. Destroying the command block is all that matters anymore." Soren agrees, his usual grandeur replaced with something more resolute. His eyes flicker with the weight of years spent running from mistakes he can no longer ignore.

Ivor stands in silence for a moment, hands resting on his hips. His expression is unreadable, but there's something almost reluctant in the way he exhales sharply, his gaze darkening.

"How ironic that the best thing the command block gave us was the very means to destroy it." Ivor muses, stepping forward. He pulls a thick book from a quartz pillar, holding it up with a sense of reverence. The cover is adorned with a familiar texture, a pattern that matches the swirling, ominous design of the command block itself.

"Spare us the poetry, it's not your strong suit." Soren snaps, rolling his eyes. Ivor barely spares him a glance, his focus still on the book in his hands.

"This thing better work because if it doesn't—" Jesse starts, but Ivor cuts him off with a sharp look.

"You don't need to say it. Follow me, I'll show you." Ivor flicks his wrist toward Jesse, motioning for him to come closer. He turns briskly, leading us into another dimly lit chamber. The room is lined with gleaming armor sets, their metallic surfaces catching the low glow of the torches mounted on the stone walls. Shadows flicker over the polished iron, gold, and diamond plating, making them seem almost alive.

Ivor strides toward a crafting table, placing the materials down with deliberate precision. He then hands Jesse the enchanting book, his expression unreadable.

Jesse stands in front of the anvil, his fingers running over the smooth spine of the book, weighing his options. His brows furrow slightly before he finally nods to himself, pulling out a diamond sword and holding it aloft. The blade gleams in the low light, sharp and ready.

Carefully, he places the sword onto the anvil and opens the book. As he works, the room fills with a soft, pulsing glow. The enchantment surges through the weapon, light crackling along the blade's edges like trapped lightning. When he lifts it again, it shimmers with an unnatural radiance, power humming beneath its surface.

"Now, if you're taking on those wither monsters, you'll want better armor." Ivor announces, his usual smugness creeping back into his voice. He gestures toward the armor sets lining the walls. "I enchanted these for the Order. They're as strong as they come. Even able to withstand TNT! Oh, and the rest of you—help yourselves."

I scan the gleaming sets before me, my eyes landing on one that feels right.

After everyone selects their armor, Ivor steps back, his grin widening. "Now, let's get back to Soren's fortress and see how those Endermen are doing."

Jesse nods, sheathing his newly enchanted weapon before heading toward the exit. Without hesitation, we follow.

A long, grueling horse ride later...

Soren's fortress finally rises in the distance, its stone walls stretching high into the sky. But the sight that looms beyond it makes my stomach twist. The wither storm.

It hangs ominously in the sky, its monstrous form shifting and writhing. Its purple tractor beams glide across the ruined landscape, sweeping up everything in their path—trees, debris, stray mobs, even chunks of the ground itself.

"Wow..." Lukas mutters, but there's no admiration in his tone, only horror.

"Shouldn't the Endermen have dismantled those things already? Or am I just confused?" Petra asks, her brow furrowing.

"It's not just you. Something's wrong." Ivor growls, frustration tightening his jaw.

Before anyone can respond, a voice calls out over the howling wind. "Jesse! Over here!"

We turn to see Axel waving us down, his face lighting up with relief as we approach.

"You guys made it! Nice freaking armor, by the way!" Axel grins, looking Jesse up and down with an approving nod.

"You've done your part, now it's time for us to do ours." Jesse answers, his voice carrying the same unwavering determination it always does.

"One problem." Axel huffs, jerking a thumb toward the chaos unfolding ahead. "The Endermen, they're not angry enough! I mean, some of them are, but a lot of them are just standing around, moving blocks. Being, y'know... Endermen."

His frustrated glare is directed toward the towering wither storm, as if willing it to crumble with sheer irritation alone.

"Well, it's nothing we can't handle, right?" Petra asks, trying to sound confident, but there's an underlying tension in her voice.

"Hah, I'm not so sure about that." Soren admits, his voice barely above a whisper, his usual bravado crumbling under the weight of the storm looming ahead.

"Now is not the time for cold feet, Soren!" Ivor scolds, his tone sharp and unforgiving. He glares at Soren, frustration flickering in his narrowed eyes.

"So, what's the plan?" Axel asks, rubbing the back of his neck, shifting uneasily as the ground trembles beneath us.

"We confront the wither storm and fight it to the death." Jesse deadpans, gripping the hilt of his enchanted sword.

"Yeah! You do mean its death, right?" Axel asks, his voice laced with uncertainty.

"Axel, just... put on your helmet." Olivia sighs, rolling her eyes.

"What helmet?" Axel asks, blinking in confusion.

"Here." Jesse grins, pulling out a glass helmet and handing it to him.

Axel's face lights up as he takes it. "Nice! I was feeling a little left out." He exclaims with a grin, fitting the helmet onto his head. It clicks into place perfectly.

Before anyone can respond, a deafening rumble shakes the ground beneath us. The sound isn't thunder—it's the wither storm. A deep, bone-rattling vibration pulses through the air, making my chest tighten. My hands begin to tremble involuntarily, a cold pit forming in my stomach. Fear coils in my chest, but I shake it off. Now isn't the time to freeze up. Now isn't the time to let fear win.

"Guys, let's go kick some command block butt." Jesse urges, determination set into his face.

We all turn to face the towering monstrosities ahead. The sky is consumed by an eerie violet haze, thick and suffocating. Purple beams slice through the air, illuminating the ruined landscape like jagged cracks in reality itself.

We charge forward, dodging the pulsing tractor beams and debris flying in every direction. The storm howls, its guttural roars shaking the very earth beneath our feet.

"Does anyone see the command block?" Jesse shouts over the chaos, his voice nearly drowned out by the storm's unrelenting fury.

"I don't think it's exposed!" Ivor yells back, struggling against the harsh winds.

"We need to get more Endermen focused on the storm!" Olivia shouts, her eyes darting between the chaotic battlefield and the small clusters of Endermen nearby.

"How do you make Endermen focus? I can't even make myself focus!" Axel grumbles, ducking as a flying block narrowly misses his head.

"Not helping, Axel!" I snap, barely dodging a beam of light that scorches the ground beside me.

A sudden movement catches my eye. Soren is backing away, his hands shaking.

"Soren? What are you doing?!" Ivor demands, his voice laced with disbelief.

"I, uh... you know, I've really enjoyed meeting you all, but..." Soren's voice trails off before he suddenly breaks into a sprint, retreating from the battlefield.

He's running. The coward is actually running.

"Soren, you coward! I can't believe you!" Jesse shouts, fury thick in his voice.

"Jesse, you can handle things out here, right?" Ivor asks, glaring at the spot where Soren disappeared into the distance.

"What?!" Jesse turns to him, eyes wide with shock.

"I can't let him get himself killed! Just get to the command block and destroy it!" Ivor yells before taking off after Soren, disappearing into the storm.

"So much for the mighty Order of the Stone." Olivia mutters, her tone sharp with disappointment.

"Doesn't matter. We have work to do." Jesse barks, refocusing on the task at hand. His grip on his sword tightens as he turns toward the storm, jaw set with determination.

"We need to get those Endermen to attack it!" I urge, scanning the battlefield. Then, I see it—one of the tractor beams locks onto a nearby Enderman. The creature freezes, its long limbs tensing before it lets out a piercing shriek. In an instant, it vanishes, only to reappear above the wither storm, clawing at its structure with wild fury.

"The tractor beam! That's it!" Olivia exclaims. "Make them chase you into the tractor beam!"

Without hesitation, we scatter, sprinting toward the clusters of Endermen. I lock eyes with one of them, its piercing magenta stare sending a chill down my spine. It lets out a guttural shriek before teleporting closer, its long arms reaching toward me. Heart pounding, I spin on my heel and sprint toward the nearest tractor beam. At the last second, I dodge to the side. The Enderman, blinded by rage, teleports straight into it. A triumphant smirk tugs at my lips.

After riling up more Endermen, we regroup.

"Guys, look! It's working!" Olivia shouts, pointing toward the massive chunks of debris being torn from the storm.

"Now we just need to find Jesse a way up there." Axel pants.

"Or... build a way up." I suggest, glancing around at the scattered debris.

"That's it!" Olivia grins. "Everyone, empty your pockets!"

I pull everything from my inventory—rotten flesh, a stolen sword from Ivor, some minecart rails, and wooden planks. The others do the same, dumping a mix of materials into a small pile.

Jesse's eyes light up as he sorts through the items. "Guys, check it out. We build a cobblestone ramp, lay down some rails, attach the TNT to a minecart, and launch it off the ramp like a rocket!"

A grin spreads across my face despite the chaos. Jesse's enthusiasm is contagious.

"Yeah! I love that idea!" Axel exclaims, his excitement barely contained.

"Of course you would." I tease. "As long as something explodes, you're on board."

Axel just chuckles, shaking his head. "You know me too well."

"So what are we waiting for? Let's hurry up and—" Olivia starts, but a sudden, deafening growl rips through the air, drowning out her words. A beam of violet energy surges toward us.

"Look out!" Olivia yelps. We all leap out of the way, but the beam catches Petra, wrapping around her like a spectral vice.

"Petra!" Jesse yells. Axel lunges, grabbing onto Petra's ankle, keeping her from being pulled away. But then his feet begin to lift off the ground.

"Axel, hold on!" Olivia shouts, diving forward and grabbing onto Axel. But now she's being pulled too. The storm roars, its hunger unrelenting.

I grab onto Olivia's feet, planting mine firmly against the ground, but it's no use. A sudden force yanks at me, and my stomach flips as I feel myself lifting off the ground too. Panic spikes in my chest. Before I can fully process what's happening, strong hands clamp onto my ankles, anchoring us all down.

"I got you guys! Lukas, I need a hand!" Jesse's voice cuts through the howling wind.

"I can do better than that! Hey, wither storm! Over here!" Lukas calls out, his voice laced with false confidence.

He raises his arm, lighting a firework that shoots into the storm's ominous sky. The explosion is deafening, bright colors bursting against the dark haze like a last stand. The wither storm's massive, soulless gaze locks onto Lukas, shifting its tractor beam away from us. The sudden release sends us tumbling back onto the ground with a rough impact, the breath knocked from my lungs.

"Fireworks! Good thinking!" I say, pushing myself up, sending Lukas a grateful nod.

He flashes me a grin, brushing dirt off his sleeves. "Now, let's hurry up and build this thing!" Axel urges.

"Eyes on me, you great big bully!" Lukas shouts again, firing another firework into the sky and taking off in a zigzagging sprint, baiting the storm's attention.

We work fast, each of us pulling out our remaining supplies. Cobblestone for the ramp, rails lined up one by one, and finally, the minecart and TNT. Jesse steps forward, ready to climb into the cart, but before he can, I reach out and grab his wrist.

"Wait... one thing before you go." I speak up, holding his gaze. "Don't die. I don't need Axel groaning."

A grin sneaks onto Jesse's face, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Hey, isn't that what you said at Soren's place?"

"Aww, I'm flattered you remember, but technically, we are at Soren's place." I tease, smirking.

"Ahem. Hate to break up this love fest going on, but we have a wither storm to destroy." Olivia interrupts, her voice dripping with mischief.

"Olivia!" I groan, dropping Jesse's wrist.

"Worry not! I shall return!" Jesse says dramatically, placing a hand over his chest and making a theatrical bowing motion.

"Okay, dork. Now go, shoo." I shake my head, my smile widening.

Jesse crawls into the minecart, the TNT hissing ominously as it primes for detonation. Just as the explosion triggers, Rueben squeals and makes a last-second jump, landing beside Jesse in the cart. The blast propels them up the ramp, sending them soaring straight into the heart of the wither storm.

For a moment, there's nothing but silence.

"So, you and Jesse..." Olivia drawls, nudging me playfully.

"Not gonna happen." I growl, crossing my arms.

Axel lets out a breathy chuckle. "Y'know, originally, I would've opposed that idea... but now, I'd say you have my blessing."

"Oh great, now Axel's in on it?" I groan as he slings an arm around my shoulders.

Axel nods with an evil grin, clearly enjoying my suffering. "What? Can't a guy ship his friends?"

I swat his arm away with a glare, but I can't find it in me to be annoyed for long. "Oh, so we're friends now? What happened to 'stupid new Ocelot member', hmm?" I ask, referencing Endercon.

Axel's face flushes in embarrassment, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "That was a long time ago, Y/N. I didn't know you then."

"That was like... a week ago." I deadpan, and Axel's face flushes further, and he turns shifts his feet awkwardly. Silence falls over us, the lightheartedness of the moment fading rapidly as the reality of our situation settles in.

The waiting stretches unbearably, each second dragging into eternity. We all fall quiet, eyes locked on the sky, watching, hoping. Then, the wither storm lets out a deafening, guttural roar.

The two smaller wither storms collapse, their monstrous forms disintegrating as they crash into the earth. The final storm shrieks, its entire body convulsing as explosions ripple across it like shockwaves. Then—nothing. The monstrous entity dissolves, its form vanishing into the wind.

The sky begins to clear, the oppressive purple haze fading away as the warm glow of the sun breaks through. The Endermen screech and scatter, teleporting away one by one. The battle is over.

He did it. Jesse actually did it.

Relief floods through me, and a grin tugs at my lips, but something catches my eye on the outskirts of the battlefield. A small figure, curled up, trembling. My stomach tightens, my heart pounding in my chest.

I step forward cautiously, the others voices becoming a blur background noise.

"There you are!" Olivia calls happily behind me.

"Jesse! Are you alright?!" Axel asks.

I don't turn around. My eyes remain locked on the figure in the sand. It shifts slightly, and then I see it clearly.

It's Rueben. My breath catches in my throat, and suddenly, I'm moving. I rush toward him, dropping to my knees at his side. His small body trembles, his breathing shallow. His eyes, once so full of life, are now clouded with pain.

"Rueben." I whisper, stroking his head gently. His ears twitch slightly, but his body is so still. Too still.

Behind me, Jesse's frantic voice breaks through. "Rueben! Where's Rueben?!"

"I thought he was with you." Olivia responds, her voice rising in pitch.

Footsteps pound against the sand. "I remember!" Petra exclaims.

"Remember what?" Axel asks, oblivious.

"I remember everything!" Petra exclaims happily, but her joy is a distant echo in my mind. All I can focus on is Rueben.

"Hey, hey. Do you guys hear something?" Lukas asks.

Finally, I find my voice. "Jesse! Over here!" I call, my voice cracking slightly. Jesse sprints toward me, his eyes wild with worry. As soon as he sees Rueben, he drops to his knees beside me. His expression shifts from panic to pure devastation.

"Rueben." Jesse breathes, reaching out to stroke his thin fur. "You're a hero, you know that?"

Rueben lets out a weak snort, barely audible. "Come on, Rueben... say something." Jesse urges softly, desperation creeping into his tone. Rueben turns his gaze to me, then down at my hand. I stroke his ear gently, his fur warm beneath my touch. He snorts one last time, as if to say, take care of him for me.

Then, his body goes limp. "Rueben, don't do this to me." Jesse pleads, his voice barely a whisper.

A puff of smoke rises where Rueben once lay, and in his place, a single raw pork chop rests in the sand. Jesse stares at it, his hands shaking. Slowly, he reaches out, cradling the pork chop as if holding something infinitely more precious. His eyes squeeze shut in pain, the grief and loss clearly painted on his features.

"Jesse, I am... I am so sorry." Lukas murmurs. Jesse says nothing. I place a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it off silently, his grip tightening around the pork chop.

"He was a great pig..." Petra adds, her voice thick with emotion. Silence stretches between us. The crowd that had begun gathering remains hushed, as if afraid to disturb the moment.

One week later...

We stand before the memorial, Rueben's name carved into stone. Jesse had told us everything—what happened inside the wither storm, what Rueben did.

Magnus, Gabriel, and Ivor had joined us to pay their respects. The crowd stands in somber silence, a sharp contrast to the cheers that will follow. Finally, we turn, walking down the path lined with the people of Beacontown. They wave, offering warm smiles and nods of gratitude.

At the end of the path, an unactivated beacon stands, lined with gold. Jesse steps onto the stage, his expression calm but his grief still lingering in his eyes. Gabriel leans toward him, whispering something. Jesse responds quietly, and Gabriel steps forward, clearing his throat.

"We all owe a great debt to Jesse and his friends." Gabriel begins, his voice carrying over the crowd. "But I owe a great debt to you people as well. Which is why... there is something I want to tell you." The crowd falls silent immediately, eager to hear what he has to say.

Is he going to tell them the truth about the Order?

The crowd erupts in cheers, their voices rising in waves of celebration as Gabriel speaks. "We may have defeated an Ender Dragon, but that is nothing compared to what these heroes did. They took down a wither storm! They are a new generation of heroes!" Gabriel continues, his voice full of admiration. Ivor scoffs quietly, but Gabriel ignores him, raising a hand toward Jesse.

The applause swells as Jesse steps forward, the sound so loud it seems to shake the very ground beneath us. He waits, letting the excitement settle before speaking. "Thank you, thank you everyone. I know you think I'm up here because I saved the world or something, but the truth is, I didn't do it alone. Far from it."

Jesse glances at us, his expression fond. "You see, I also had my pig, Rueben. I could never have done this without him. He gave me advice, picked me up when I was down... and in the end, he saved all of us. I'll really miss the little guy." His voice wavers for a fraction of a second, but he quickly composes himself, clearing his throat.

"Anyway, it's crazy to think my friends and I started out in a treehouse. Hey, one of the people up here with me was originally my enemy! And now, we've been to some of the craziest places in the world!" Jesse says with a chuckle, the crowd hanging onto every word.

"I mean, we went to the Far Lands! There was a gigantic wall, and a huge maze! And a model of the Ender Dragon that, well... you just had to be there. But when all was said and done, what really mattered was finishing what we set out to do. Because there was no way we were gonna let a world this cool get torn apart. We did it!" Jesse grins, throwing his hands in the air. The crowd explodes into cheers.

I can't help but smile as someone steps forward, carrying a strange object. "This nether star is all that remains of the wither storm. Would you like to do the honors?" the man asks, offering Jesse a dark purple nether star, its glow pulsing faintly.

Jesse takes it, his fingers brushing over its surface before placing it onto a stained glass platform. Instantly, the beacon lights up, a brilliant burst of color shooting into the sky. The beams stretch high above us, reflecting off the glass buildings of Beacontown. The crowd's cheers reach a fever pitch.

"My friends, I am now pleased to introduce to you, the new Order of the Stone!" Gabriel announces, handing Jesse the golden amulet.

"Huh, what happened to the Order of the Pig?" I whisper with a smirk.

Jesse rolls his eyes playfully. "I don't think they'd go for that." He mutters, holding up the amulet.

After the ceremony...

A Hall of Honor is built to display the Order's treasures, and with it, a place for all of us to stay. Beacontown is still recovering, but everywhere I look, I see people rebuilding, working together to create something even better than before.

Yet, sleep doesn't come easily.

I lie awake in my new room, staring at the ceiling, my mind replaying everything that led to this moment. A few weeks ago, I was just an outsider, someone on the fringes of this world. But now... now I'm part of something bigger. I wouldn't trade any of it. Not the adventure, not the friendships I've built.

A sharp knock at my door breaks through my thoughts.

I slide out of bed, curiosity prickling at me. Who would be here at this hour? As I open the door, my heart stutters.

Jesse stands there, disheveled, his fists clenched at his sides. His face is pale, his eyes red and glassy, like he's been on the verge of breaking for hours.

"Jesse?" I ask, my voice lowering instinctively. "What are you doing up this late? And why are you here?"

He hesitates, shifting on his feet as if he's not sure why he came. "I... I don't know... it just feels natural, I—" His voice catches, and suddenly, he moves forward, gripping me tightly, burying his face against my shoulder.

The sudden weight of him nearly knocks me off balance, but I steady myself, my arms hesitantly hovering before I give in, wrapping them around his back. He's trembling.

I glance down, concern twisting in my chest. "Oh, okay... Uh... come in, I guess?" I murmur, guiding him inside.

His grip doesn't loosen. If anything, he holds on tighter, his fingers digging into the fabric of my shirt.

I shut the door behind us. "Sit." I instruct, pointing to my bed.

Jesse doesn't argue. He finally lets go and collapses onto the mattress, his hands clenched together. His breathing is ragged, his whole body tense, like he's bracing for something.

I kneel in front of him, keeping my voice calm. "I... sorry, I just..." He shakes his head, struggling to form the words.

"Hey, it's alright." I assure him. "Breathe, Jesse. You're going into shock." I take his hand, squeezing it gently. "Just breathe with me, okay?"

He nods shakily, inhaling a deep breath. His exhale is uneven, but he follows my lead, repeating the process. Slowly, the trembling in his hands subsides.

"Good, keep going." I encourage softly. After a few more breaths, his muscles finally begin to relax, though the exhaustion in his eyes remains.

"Now, what happened?" I ask, my gaze searching his.

Jesse's grip on my hand tightens. He swallows hard. "It was a bad dream." He mutters.

Relief washes over me, though my concern doesn't fade. I sigh, rubbing my temple. "Jesse, you scared me. I thought something happened to you."

He lets out a humorless chuckle. "It felt real." He admits, his voice rough.

I hesitate, then softly ask, "Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to."

Jesse looks away for a long moment before nodding. "I was back in the wither storm. And I dropped my sword again. Rueben went to fetch it for me, and he... he fell..." His voice breaks, and his shoulders shake with a suppressed sob. "I saw him fall all over again."

My heart clenches painfully. "Jesse..."

His breath shudders. "That wasn't all of it. After he fell, you and Axel, Olivia, Petra, Lukas... you were all there. And you all started screaming at me. Saying it was my fault, that I couldn't protect him—"

He cuts himself off, pressing his face into my shoulder to muffle his next sob. I wrap my arms around him without hesitation, my hand running soothing circles on his back. "That's not a bad dream, Jesse. That's a nightmare." I whisper. "And it's not true. None of it. Rueben made his choice, and he saved all of us. That wasn't your fault. Never say that."

Jesse clings to me like a lifeline, his breathing still uneven. "I know it wasn't real, but it still hurts." He admits.

"I know." I murmur. "And it will for a while. But you're not alone in this. You've got me, and Axel, and Olivia, and Lukas, and Petra. You don't have to carry this by yourself."

Silence settles between us. After a moment, Jesse asks softly, "How long... before you can close your eyes and stop seeing the bad things?"

I sigh, glancing at the wall. "To tell you the truth... I still don't know." I admit. "But I've learned to live with them. I can't change them, and I can't erase them. So, I just keep moving forward."

Jesse nods slowly.

"Tell you what. I'll get you some water, and then we can work on getting some rest." I say, beginning to pull away.

Before I can take a step, Jesse's hand grips my wrist. "Wait. Just... stay with me for a bit." He whispers. His voice is barely audible, but the desperation in it is clear.

I hesitate, but seeing the raw emotion in his eyes, my resolve crumbles. "Alright, I'll stay." I agree quietly.

Jesse scoots over, making room for me as he slips under the covers. I climb in beside him, and without a word, he wraps an arm around my waist, holding me close.

"Thank you." He mutters.

"Don't worry about it. Try to sleep, Jesse. You need it." I reply. His breathing evens out slowly, and soon, his grip loosens as he drifts off.

"Good night." He murmurs.

"Good night." I whisper back, letting sleep finally take me.

Chapter Text

Sunlight filters through my window, its golden glow cutting across the room and warming my face. I groan softly, shifting under the covers, reluctant to wake up. Something warm stirs beside me, and my half-asleep mind immediately goes on high alert.

My eyes snap open, and I nearly yelp in shock. Jesse is lying next to me, his arm still loosely draped around my waist. My breath catches, confusion spiking through me before the events of last night come rushing back. Right. Jesse had shown up at my door, shaken from a nightmare, and I let him stay.

Now, in the calm morning light, he looks... peaceful. His hair has fallen messily across his eyes, his face relaxed in sleep. Without thinking, I reach out and gently brush the strands back, tucking them behind his ear. My fingers linger for a moment before I sigh, pressing a hand against his shoulder and shaking him lightly.

"Jesse, wake up." I whisper.

He groans in protest and burrows further into the blankets. "Go away." He mumbles.

I smirk. "Jesse, wake up, or I'll hit you with my sword again."

His eyes fly open. "I'm up!" he yelps, sitting up so fast that he nearly topples off the bed.

I chuckle at his reaction, crossing my arms. "Good. How did you sleep last night?"

Jesse rubs the sleep from his eyes before looking at me. "Before or after I came here?"

"After." I clarify, raising an eyebrow.

Jesse hesitates, then gives me a small smile. "Great. It's like you chased the nightmares away... or threatened them with your sword."

I snort. "Sounds like something I'd do."

"About last night..." I continue. "What did you mean when you said it felt natural to knock on my door? It's natural to bolt to my room right after having a nightmare?"

Jesse's face turns red instantly. "Uh... I—"

Before he can stammer out an answer, my bedroom door is suddenly thrown open.

"Y/N! I need your help! Jesse's gone missing! He's not in his room, and we can't find him, so now we don't know where— Oh." Petra's face morphs from panic to a slow, mischievous grin as her eyes flick between me and Jesse. "Am I interrupting something?"

I groan, already dreading whatever is about to come out of her mouth. "No, you're not."

"Mhm. Wear protection, kids!" Petra snickers before darting out of the room before either of us can react.

Jesse starts laughing, while I groan and shove my face into my pillow. "We're never gonna hear the end of this, are we?" He asks, amusement lacing his tone.

"Nope. Probably not." I mutter, my voice muffled.

Crickets chirp softly, their song weaving through the night air as we make our way through the dense forest. The moon casts a pale glow over the trees, the leaves rustling gently in the wind. Each step presses into the soft earth, the distant groans of zombies and hissing of creepers reminding us we’re never truly alone in the dark.

My fingers curl around the hilt of my sword, its enchanted blade shimmering faintly in the moonlight. Since the wither storm, I’ve upgraded my gear, and now, hunting monsters feels more like sport than survival. Pressing my back against the rough bark of a tree, a grin tugs at my lips as a zombie shuffles toward me, its vacant eyes locked onto its next meal.

With a swift motion, I drive my sword through its gut. A plume of smoke rises as it vanishes, but before I can celebrate, more groans echo from the darkness.

Perfect.

I brace myself for another fight, but suddenly, a flash of gold streaks past me, followed by a loud yell. The zombie crumbles into nothing.

"Hey! I had that handled!" I scoff, turning to see Petra standing triumphantly, her sword at her side.

"Not my fault you're too slow." She teases, a smirk on her lips.

I roll my eyes. "Show-off."

"Hey, Jesse! Check this out!" Axel’s voice calls from up ahead.

Turning toward the sound, I spot him with two zombies locked in an iron grip, holding them in a headlock. "Three... two... one... pop!" He grins as both zombies poof into smoke.

"Not bad!" I cheer, stepping beside Jesse.

Axel flexes his biceps proudly, but my attention flicks to the shadows behind him. A zombie is creeping up on him.

Jesse and I exchange a glance before moving at the same time.

Jesse flips over Axel’s back, delivering a sharp kick to the zombie, sending it stumbling toward me. I don’t hesitate, driving my sword through its skull. Rotten flesh drops to the ground, and I look up, meeting Jesse’s gaze.

He grins, and I return it.

"Wow! You guys are getting pretty good at this!" Axel compliments, brushing himself off.

"You guys are working way too hard!" Olivia calls, leaning against a Redstone contraption. She nudges it with her foot, and it whirs to life. Arrows fire in rapid succession, cutting down the remaining mobs with ease.

Jesse scoffs. "You're always looking to one-up us, aren't you?"

Olivia smirks. "Wouldn’t be fun otherwise."

With the area cleared, we finally take in our surroundings. The stone walls of an ancient temple loom before us, vines snaking up the crumbling structure. Torches flicker along the path leading up its cracked stairs, their dim light casting eerie shadows across the facade.

"That is one seriously cool temple." Jesse breathes, eyes wide in amazement.

I nod, admiring the worn carvings barely visible beneath the overgrowth. "No kidding."

"Points for Ivor, I guess. This was a good tip." Petra admits, sheathing her sword.

Jesse grins, energy sparking in his expression. "Order of the Stone, let's get some treasure!"

We all agree, sprinting toward the entrance.

The inside is just as ancient as the exterior. Moss covers the cracked stone walls, and torches flicker weakly in their holders. Levers, pistons, and pools of lava line the chamber, casting the room in an ominous glow.

"So much for treasure. This place is bare." Petra groans.

"C'mon, you know how these places work." Jesse shrugs, scanning the room. "The treasure is never out in the open. Let’s fan out and search."

I step forward, glancing at Jesse. "So, did Ivor say what’s so important about this place? Or what we’re even looking for?"

"Nope. He was incredibly cryptic." Jesse replies.

I chuckle. "Typical Ivor. I wouldn’t expect anything less."

A smirk tugs at Jesse’s lips. Before he can respond, Axel suddenly gasps dramatically. "Did... did Y/N just make a joke?! Who are you, and what have you done with the real Y/N?"

"Well, someone’s in a good mood today." Olivia chimes in, her grin mischievous. "Sleep well last night?"

I freeze. Heat rushes to my face, and I glance at Jesse, who looks equally flustered.

Ha. Of course, she’d bring that up now.

"I knew it! Something did happen between you two!" Olivia crows triumphantly.

I groan. "How did you—... Petra!"

"Guilty." Petra says smugly. "Sorry, but I couldn’t resist sharing what I found this morning."

"Nothing happened!" Jesse yelps, his hands flying up defensively. Wow, that sounded so convincing.

"Mhm, then why were you two sharing a bed?" Axel grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "What is with you guys and thinking every little interaction between us has some hidden romantic meaning?"

"Because it’s fun to tease you." Petra deadpans.

"Okay, can we look for the treasure now?" Jesse asks, saving me from more embarrassment.

"Good idea. The treasure won’t find itself." Axel agrees, still grinning.

As we start our search, I shake my head, muttering. "I swear, one day I’m gonna get them back for this."

Jesse laughs under his breath. "If you figure out how, let me know."

I smirk. "Oh, don’t worry. I will."

Jesse pulls the levers lining the walls, and the deep rumbling of shifting stone echoes through the chamber. He pulls the final lever, and a deep rumbling noise reverberates through the chamber. The floor trembles beneath our feet as a section of stone shifts, grinding against itself as it slides open. A staircase is revealed beneath, its steps looking old and unstable, barely holding together under the slow drip of lava that dribbles down the walls.

As we descend, a musty, damp smell greets us. The air is thick with the scent of charred stone and aged moss. Vines choke the walls, twisting around the crumbling bricks like nature’s attempt to reclaim what was lost.

"You know..." Petra muses, stepping cautiously onto a particularly worn step. "This kinda reminds me of when we first found the Order’s temple. We were a bunch of scared noobs back then."

"Yeah..." Jesse nods, his voice laced with nostalgia. "That feels like forever ago."

"And to think..." Olivia adds, her eyes scanning the dimly lit hallway ahead. "That was just the beginning."

"Yeah, the beginning of Jesse's high-pitched screams." I snicker, sending him a teasing glance.

Jesse scoffs, crossing his arms. "Oh, come on, I wasn’t that bad."

"Mhm, sure." Petra smirks before looking around, her fingers twitching near her sword hilt. "Feels weirdly quiet down here."

The deeper we go, the heavier the air becomes, as if the walls are closing in, pressing against us with every step. Then, finally, we reach the bottom.

"Bingo!" Jesse exclaims, his voice echoing off the cavernous space.

Rows of chests line the room, tucked between cracked pillars and old pedestals. A damp chill seeps into my skin as I kneel before one, flipping open the creaky lid. The contents inside glint dully under the torchlight—an iron ingot, some stale bread, a piece of flint, a chunk of lapis, and a few strands of string. Not bad, but nothing special.

Then, a sharp gasp yanks my attention toward Jesse. A bright blue glow illuminates his hands, its soft, pulsing light reflecting in his wide eyes. I step closer. "What is that...?"

Jesse turns the object in his hands—flint and steel, but unlike any I’ve ever seen. Instead of the usual dull gray and charcoal black, this one shimmers with a vibrant blue, the colors shifting as if alive.

"Whoa! That’s super cool!" Axel breathes, staring at it like it's the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

"Is that an enchantment?" Jesse mutters, turning it over with a look of fascination.

"It must be." I answer, eyeing the way it glows with an otherworldly light. "Only enchantments do that."

Axel claps his hands together. "Dude! You have to try it out!"

Jesse hesitates for only a second before striking the flint against the steel. A brilliant blue flash erupts, momentarily blinding us as the room is bathed in its eerie glow.

A low, guttural hiss cuts through the silence. Then another. And another. From the dark corners of the chamber, shadows begin to writhe. Groaning, snarling figures emerge, their eyes gleaming in the flickering light. Zombies, skeletons, and something else—something bigger—lurks just beyond the torchlight.

"Great." I mutter in annoyance. "Monsters."

"Run!" Jesse shouts.

We bolt toward the stairs, but the mobs swarm, blocking our escape. Swords are drawn, battle stances shift, and a thick tension fills the air.

"Builder bump, on my command!" Jesse orders. We nod in unison as a response.

Jesse works fast, cobbling together a structure as I hack down anything that gets too close. Arrows whiz past, embedding into stone with dull thunks. Bones clatter. The sickly scent of rot thickens as zombies fall one by one. The last block is placed, and we rush across Jesse’s makeshift bridge. Axel nearly stumbles, but Olivia yanks him forward just in time.

"Whew! Close one!" Axel wheezes, hands on his knees. No time to breathe. More undead pour from above and below, their numbers endless.

"Ugh, all these mobs! Where does it end?!" Olivia grumbles, swinging her sword at an approaching zombie.

Jesse shoves another off the staircase, clearing a path, but before we can move, something shifts.

A faint hiss. Then, a deep groan of stone grinding against stone. Lava spills from the ceiling, cascading over the stairs, sealing off our route.

"And... there go the stairs." Olivia gestures to the flowing lava, her voice flat.

"Quick! Jump!" Jesse shouts, pointing to the vines choking the walls.

No hesitation. We leap, grabbing onto the tangled green tendrils. My fingers burn as I hoist myself up, the old vines straining under our combined weight.

A new sound rumbles above. Hissing. Not zombies this time.

Spiders. From the cracks in the stone, they pour out, their ruby-red eyes gleaming in the dim light. One launches itself at me with a shriek. I swing with precision, my blade arcing through the air. My sword meets its mark as intended. The creature lets out a final screech before turning to dust. Then, the walls vibrate violently and a loud metallic groan fills the chamber.

The trap door... It’s closing!

"Move, move, move!" Jesse urges. I push myself faster, ignoring the burning pain in my muscles.

Then—clang. A sword is wedged between the metal walls, stopping them just inches from sealing completely.

"That was amazing!" Axel exclaims, grinning. "Why is no one else freaking out about this?!"

"Because we’re trying not to die, Axel!" I snap, pulling myself up the last few feet.

With one final pull, Jesse hauls me out, then helps the others. His sword is yanked free, and with a final clang, the trap locks shut. We stumble into the cool night air. The dark forest stretches out before us, illuminated only by the pale glow of the moon. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my hammering heart.

"That..." Petra pants, wiping sweat from her forehead. "Was fun. Fighting mobs, getting sweet treasure... like that flint and steel."

"Yeah, you have to try it again! I’m dying to see how it works!" Olivia chimes in.

Jesse pulls out the mysterious flint and steel. "Okay... what should I burn first?"

Axel points eagerly. "The grass! No, that stump!"

Jesse shrugs, then strikes it against the stump. Instantly, a column of blue fire bursts into existence, flames licking at the bark with unnatural intensity. Jesse recoils, eyes wide. The rest of us stare in stunned silence. Then, a slow, mocking clap echoes through the trees.

A voice follows, dripping with condescension. "Well, well. Where’d you get the new toy, Jesse? Looks a little sophisticated for you."

My blood runs cold as I turn slowly.

Aiden.

He stands just beyond the clearing, leaning against his sword with a casual demeanor. His dark brown hair rustles slightly in the breeze, and the moonlight casts eerie shadows across his face. His pale skin contrasts sharply with the deep green of the forest, making him look ghostly in the dim light. His emerald eyes gleam with malice, full of hate and something else—jealousy.

Maya steps out next to him, sneering. "Order of the losers."

Gill follows, his expression set in a scowl. "Yeah! Losers!"

My jaw tightens. "Aiden."

A smirk curls at his lips. "That’s my name, sweetheart. Don’t wear it out." His tone is light, playful even, but there’s an edge beneath it—something cold and dangerous.

"Why you little—" I step forward, but Jesse yanks me back. Aiden lets out a dark chuckle as if amused by my efforts.

"Well, well, well. If it isn’t Aiden and the pussycats." Jesse drawls, sizing Aiden up with crossed arms. His dark eyes narrow, his armor glinting in the dim moonlight.

"That’s not our name!" Gill snaps angrily, his jacket rustling as he moves to take on a defensive stance. I exhale slowly, my grip tightening on my sword. This isn’t just some rivalry anymore. There’s something different in Aiden’s eyes. Something unhinged. And I don’t like it.

"So what are you Ocelots doing here?" Olivia demands, her tone dripping with distaste.

Aiden scoffs. "The Ocelots were Lukas’s gang. We ditched that name just like we ditched him."

Anger coils in my chest like a venomous serpent. "Yeah, we rebranded. We’re the Blaze Rods now." Maya brags, turning to display the crossed blaze rods emblazoned on her jacket.

"Wow, you guys are terrible at naming. That’s a dumb name." Jesse remarks dryly.

Aiden’s smirk fades into something darker. "Where’s Lukas, huh? Y/N, you should know. He wouldn’t stop sniffing around you and Jesse like a tamed dog."

My fists clench so hard my knuckles turn white. "Take. That. Back."

Aiden grins wickedly. "Mm... nah."

"I'm gonna kill him." My voice is low, seething with restrained fury. My grip tightens at my sides, nails digging into my palms. Axel shifts beside me, tensing. His stance changes, subtly prepared to intercept if I lunge.

"Lukas is a hero." Jesse snaps, stepping forward. His voice is sharp, unwavering. "Which is more than I can say for any of you."

Aiden’s smug expression falters, twisting into something darker. His green eyes narrow, hate flaring in their depths. "You probably think that thing makes you sooo special." He spits, motioning toward the enchanted flint and steel in Jesse’s hand. His breathing is ragged, shoulders taut with frustration. "Classic Jesse. You take all the best things and never give anyone else a chance! That should have been ours!"

His voice cracks slightly at the end, emotion laced beneath the venom. His hands clench at his sides, white-knuckled.

"It's not our fault you're too slow." I shrug, stepping toward him. My muscles coil with anticipation, every nerve primed for a fight. "No wonder you’re called the Blaze Rods—because you’re just as stupid as a blaze."

Aiden's gaze snaps to me, his nostrils flaring. The tension between us is razor-thin, and this time, no one stops me as I advance.

"Hey, we earned this, alright? Fair and square." Jesse interjects defensively. I bite back an exasperated sigh. Really? That’s the best comeback he’s got?

Aiden lets out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Nothing you've ever done has been fair and square." He growls, his voice low with something dangerous. He grips his sword and points it toward Jesse. "You steal Lukas. You steal Y/N. You steal every chance we have!"

His words twist into a snarl, a raw, unfiltered emotion behind them. Aiden’s fingers tighten around the hilt of his sword, his stance shifting ever so slightly—ready to strike.

Jesse squares his shoulders. "He didn't steal anything! Me and Lukas are not objects to be won or stolen! It’s not Jesse’s fault the only friends you have are groupies!"

I draw my own weapon, my heart pounding against my ribs. The moonlight catches the gleam of my blade as I level it at Aiden. His pupils constrict, a flash of hesitation flickering through his expression before it's masked by anger.

"Hand over the flint and steel." His voice drops to a near-growl, his fingers twitching against his sword’s grip. "Some hero you are, Jesse." His lips curl into a sneer as his gaze flickers between us. A sharp silence stretches between us. Then, I let out a slow breath and shake my head.

"Y'know what?" I say, my voice taking on a new, calculated lightness. "You're right, Aiden. This is bull. I miss you guys."

Jesse stiffens beside me, his eyes going wide. "Wait, what?! You can't be serious, Y/N!"

Aiden’s eyes widen slightly before his face splits into a slow, victorious grin. He takes a step forward, chin tilted slightly in smug satisfaction. "I knew you couldn't resist for long." He chuckles, the arrogance rolling off him in waves.

I move closer, the tension between us thick enough to choke on. "Aiden, come closer." I murmur, my voice syrupy sweet. "I wanna tell you a secret." I whisper, curling my finger toward him slowly.

Curiosity flickers in his eyes, and he leans in ever so slightly. Big mistake. I yank my fist back and slam it into his nose with a sickening crack. Aiden reels backward, a sharp cry ripping from his throat. His body hits the dirt hard, the impact knocking the wind from him.

His hands fly to his nose, blood already pooling between his fingers. "You broke my nose, you fucker!" He howls, his voice distorted by the injury.

I cock my head, lips twitching into a smirk. "You haven’t changed a bit, Aiden." I sneer, my voice steady. "Still as dumb as you look. Honestly, you should be thanking me. That nose job is an improvement."

Aiden glares up at me, pure venom burning in his eyes. I step forward again, this time slowly, deliberately. His body tenses, his breath hitching as I reach down and grip the front of his collar, yanking him up just enough to lean close.

"Back off. Now." I whisper, my voice deadly calm. "Or your ribcage is next."

His throat bobs as he swallows hard. I shove him away, and he stumbles slightly before catching himself. A long beat of silence stretches between us, his fingers still curled around his bleeding nose.

"Fine." He finally spits out, his voice barely above a growl.

We both lower our weapons, though the tension still lingers, thick and suffocating.

Aiden exhales sharply, taking a slow step back. "What hope do we have when heroes like you are throwing your weight around?" His voice is bitter, sharp. His hands curl into fists at his sides. "It's not always going to be this way."

I let out a short, dry laugh. "Yeah, yeah, slink away, you little coward."

Aiden’s jaw tightens, but he says nothing more. With one final glare, he turns on his heel, Gill and Maya falling in line behind him. They disappear into the darkness of the trees, the rustling of leaves the only sign they were ever here.

Olivia exhales slowly. "I don’t remember him being that angry before."

"They scared easily, didn’t they?" Jesse shakes his head, an amused grin tugging at his lips. He glances at me. "Y/N, that was awesome. What did you say to him?"

I roll my shoulders, exhaling as the last of the tension drains from me. "Don't worry about it." I brush him off, slipping my sword back into its sheath. "Let’s just say I’ll keep my word if he tries that again." I shake my head. "Ugh, I can't believe I used to run with those guys."

"It’s not your fault." Petra chimes in, her tone softer. "At least you got your head on straight and joined the good guys." Her expression darkens slightly. "But we should be careful. Aiden seems... different. Scarier."

I rub my temples, an uneasy feeling settling in my gut. "He's on a dark path." I mutter. "With no sign of turning back."

Olivia watches me carefully. "What do you mean by that?"

I let out a slow breath. "If he keeps this up—this rage, this... jealousy—he'll become unhinged. He'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants. It doesn’t matter who he has to hurt... or kill."

Petra studies me, her gaze sharp. "That sounds... ominous. You sound like you’ve seen it before."

I nod slowly, my voice quieter now. "I have." I admit reluctantly. "The results were... catastrophic."

Axel frowns. "Really? Who was it?" A beat of silence follows.

"My father." I say finally. My voice is flat, matter-of-fact, but the weight behind the words is unmistakable. "Before he turned to killing, he had the same look in his eyes. And it only escalated from there."

Axel, in true Axel fashion, blurts out. "Oh, daddy issues deluxe. I forgot about that."

"Axel!" Olivia hisses, smacking him on the arm.

"Ow! What?!" Axel yelps, rubbing the sore spot.

"You don’t just say stuff like that! That’s rude and disrespectful!" Olivia chides, her fists clenched at her sides.

Axel’s shoulders slump slightly. He glances at me, uncertain. A grin tugs at the corner of my lips. I can’t help it—I burst out laughing. The tension breaks like a snapped bowstring, and everyone stares at me, surprised.

"Olivia, it's fine!" I say between chuckles. "I mean, I never really thought about it like that."

Axel perks up, hopeful. "Wait, so you’re not mad?"

I shake my head, still grinning. "No. 'Daddy issues deluxe'—it’s a pretty accurate way to phrase it."

Jesse lets out a small chuckle and Olivia rolls her eyes but smiles. "Okay, okay." Petra cuts in, her arms crossed over her torso. "This is fun and all, but what about the flint and steel?"

"Hopefully Ivor can tell us more about it. We better head back." Jesse suggests. With that, we turn toward the forest, the shadows stretching long ahead of us.

Chapter Text

The gates of Beacontown stand tall before us, their iron frames gleaming under the warm glow of the midday sun. Beyond them, the familiar sight of home stretches wide, the vibrant marketplace bustling with merchants and townsfolk alike.

"Feels good to almost be home." Axel sighs in relief, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of the journey.

"Cheers to that, friend." Petra agrees with a nod, flipping her golden sword in her grip before sheathing it.

Despite the comfort of returning, Olivia’s face twists in uncertainty. "I just can't shake what Aiden was saying about us back there." She mutters, crossing her arms. "We do get a lot of treasure, and I guess sometimes we might throw our weight around."

"What? No!" Axel protests, his brows furrowing in disbelief.

I step closer, placing a firm hand on Olivia’s shoulder. "Hey... Aiden is just jealous." I remind her, my voice calm but certain. "He’s upset because he used to push you guys around. He got used to being on top, and now that he can’t do that anymore, he’ll say anything to get under your skin. Just like he used to."

Jesse grins, nodding in agreement. "Y/N’s right. He sees us with our fancy armor and cool treasure, and he wishes he had it too. Isn’t that obvious?"

Olivia exhales, her shoulders dropping slightly. "I guess so."

"Well, no matter what Aiden thinks, there’s one thing I know." Petra smirks, tilting her head toward the approaching crowd. "They think we’re awesome."

A civilian catches sight of us, his eyes going wide before he suddenly shouts. "They’re back! You guys, they’re back!"

A young girl shrieks excitedly, her hands flailing as she calls out. "Run! Tell everyone our heroes have returned!"

The news spreads like wildfire. In an instant, the entire street erupts into joyous cheers. People rush toward us, waving and clapping, their faces alight with admiration. The energy of the crowd is electric, the excitement infectious.

Jesse glances around in awe. "Wow! Look what you've done with the place. It looks freaking awesome!" His words send the crowd into another fit of cheers.

Suddenly, a high-pitched squeal pierces the noise, and a girl dashes in front of us, her face flushed with excitement. She thrusts her hand up toward Jesse, eyes sparkling. "Welcome back!" She sings, beaming.

Jesse laughs and obliges her with a high-five. The smack echoes in the air, and her grin stretches impossibly wider.

"See that? Jesse high-fived me! It kinda hurt a little." She mutters in a dreamy daze, her knees wobbling beneath her.

I step forward instinctively as she suddenly slumps backward, her body tilting like a felled tree. "Whoa! Take it easy!" I yelp, catching her by the shoulders before she can hit the ground.

Her head lolls forward slightly, and then—her wide eyes lock onto mine.

"You... caught me..." Her voice trembles, filled with disbelief. And then, she lets out a deafening shriek. "Y/N caught me!"

I flinch, my hands slipping in surprise. She collapses to the ground with a soft thud, completely unconscious.

"Okay... I did not expect that." I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure she gets home safe." A woman chuckles, stepping forward to scoop the girl into her arms.

I shake my head in amusement and keep walking, but before I can take more than a few steps, a sharp scream shatters the celebratory atmosphere. The joyous chatter of the crowd vanishes in an instant, replaced by uneasy murmurs and worried glances.

"That wasn't a 'happy to see us' scream." Olivia points out warily.

Following her gaze, my eyes land on an unfamiliar structure looming in the distance. A massive floating skull, carved from dark stone, glares over the town, streams of lava pouring down its jagged edges like molten tears. The ominous glow flickers against the cobblestone streets, the sight both foreboding and... kind of impressive.

"Wow. That’s new." Petra mutters.

"Whoa!" Jesse exclaims, staring up at the spectacle. "That is one epic build, especially with the lava!"

"Yeah, yeah! And the skull motif? Awesome!" Axel adds, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.

I tilt my head, admiring the craftsmanship. "I have to agree with Axel on this one."

Axel shoots me a victorious grin. " I knew you had good taste."

Olivia groans. "I will never understand you guys."

A familiar voice suddenly cuts through the murmurs. "Not my fault!"

We exchange glances before rushing toward the commotion. A large crowd has gathered in front of the skull house, voices rising in irritation. "Oh, stop your whining!" A familiar, exasperated tone rings out. "What are your pathetic injuries in comparison to my majestic tower?!"

Jesse blinks. "Ivor?"

Ivor turns toward us, his eyes lighting up as he spots Jesse. "Jesse! You're back!" His expression shifts from delight to indignation as he points toward the crowd. "Don't listen to a word these fools tell you!"

"It’s a fire hazard!" a woman shouts, jabbing a finger at the streams of lava cascading from the skull’s mouth.

"And your face is an ugly hazard!" Ivor snaps back without missing a beat. I clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from letting out a snicker as the woman's face turns bright red with indignation.

"Man, Ivor, this is really cool!" Jesse grins, motioning toward the structure.

Ivor’s face practically glows with pride. "Why, thank you, Jesse! So good to finally see someone with some decent taste around here!"

"Jesse, seriously?" Petra groans, crossing her arms. "You can’t let him keep this up!"

I roll my eyes. "Last I checked, Ivor is a grown-ass man, not a petulant child who did something wrong."

Petra shoots me a sharp glare, unimpressed. "Ivor, I know you mean well, but... your house kinda wants to kill people."

Ivor scoffs dramatically, clutching his chest as if Petra just personally wounded him. "Jesse, all I wanted was what any man wants! A little house of my own—with loads of lava pouring off of it!" He waves his hands toward the structure as if presenting a masterpiece.

"Sorry, but Ivor's right." Jesse finally states. "People gotta be free to build." A collective gasp ripples through the crowd, horrified expressions flashing across several faces. Ivor, meanwhile, smirks triumphantly.

"Well, we have to tear it down! We can't let that monstrosity stand!" The woman sputters, throwing her hands up as if the sheer absurdity of Ivor’s lava-drenched home is too much to bear.

Ivor gasps dramatically and leaps down beside her, his long robes billowing as he rushes toward Jesse. With a theatrical flair, he grips Jesse’s shoulders and shakes him slightly. "It’s my house!" He declares, eyes wide and pleading. "I have just as much a right to build something as these people do!"

Jesse hesitates, casting a glance between the furious townsfolk and the overly enthusiastic Ivor. The crowd murmurs their displeasure, their glares practically drilling holes through the eccentric alchemist.

"Ivor obviously put a lot of hard work into his new house." Jesse begins carefully, choosing his words with the delicacy of someone navigating a minefield. "So we need to show it the same respect we would show a house... not dripping with lava."

"Yes! My lava house! Long live lava!" Ivor cheers, pumping his fists into the air as if Jesse just declared him king.

Petra pinches the bridge of her nose with a sigh. "I give up."

Ivor finally calms down, turning to Jesse. "Anyway, haven’t seen you around in a while. So what can I do for you?"

"Actually I was wondering if you could help us with something. We found something out in the jungle." Jesse explains, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Ivor’s expression flickers, the theatrical joy melting into something more calculating. He forces a chuckle, rubbing the back of his head in a way that immediately screams suspicious. "What?! You did?"

"Yes! Great to see you again! Let's do lunch! I’ll bring the carrots!" Ivor blurts, suddenly slinging an arm around Jesse’s shoulders with an almost manic grin.

Jesse stiffens. "Wha—?"

Ivor quickly lowers his voice, his eyes darting around as if expecting spies to be lurking in the shadows. "There’s no telling who’s listening! Meet me in the treasure room! Ten minutes, and bring the thing you found!" His grip tightens on Jesse’s shoulders as he shakes him once, hard enough to rattle Jesse’s teeth. And then, without another word, Ivor spins on his heel and rushes off, leaving Jesse dazed and blinking after him.

Petra stares after him, then at Jesse. "I’m sorry, what just happened?"

Jesse exhales, rubbing his temples. "I have no idea."

"Well." Olivia cuts in, arms crossed. "If we’re going to let Ivor keep that thing up, we should at least encase the lava in glass or something. You know, make it safer."

"But not too safe, right?" Axel asks, scratching his head.

"We’ll catch up with you guys later." Olivia says, rolling her eyes as she grabs Axel’s arm, dragging him off to gather sand for smelting.

Jesse shakes his head and starts toward the town hall. "C’mon, let’s go find Ivor."

The treasure room is as grand as ever, its polished stone walls lined with relics from our adventures. Glowstone casts a soft golden hue over the framed artifacts—enchanted armor, rare gems, and maps depicting lands we’ve yet to explore.

But the moment we step inside, another figure catches my eye. A familiar one.

"Whoa! Lukas!" Petra exclaims, her voice laced with excitement.

He turns at the sound of his name, his blond hair slightly tousled, the light reflecting off his black leather jacket. His blue eyes crinkle with warmth as he gives us a wave. "Hey guys! You have some pretty cool stuff in here!"

My heart jumps at the sight of him. "Lukas!" I screech, excitement bursting in my chest.

Before I even register what I’m doing, my feet move on their own. I launch myself forward, closing the distance in seconds, and tackle him in a hug.

"Woah—Oof!" Lukas yelps, caught completely off guard as I crash into him. His balance wavers, and before either of us can stop it, he topples backward with me on top of him.

We hit the floor with a thud.

"I missed you!" I beam, looking down at him, my grin stretching from ear to ear.

Lukas groans slightly, blinking up at me in shock. "Aha, I missed you too." Then, his lips curl into an amused smirk. "Are you... hugging me? Never thought I’d see the day! But uh... you’re not supposed to tackle people." He chuckles, eyes glinting with mirth.

Heat rises to my face as I scramble off him, quickly offering my hand. "Sorry! I just got excited."

He laughs, taking my hand as I pull him back onto his feet.

Jesse steps forward, smiling. "Lukas! It’s good to see you, buddy."

Lukas dusts himself off before nodding at Jesse. "It’s good to see you. All three of you."

He turns back to the treasure room, scanning the display cases with evident curiosity. "Wow, you guys have collected a lot since I last saw you. You’ve been busy—Oh wow, you... framed it. Erm... him."

I follow his gaze and feel my stomach clench. Hanging on the wall, encased in a frame, is a single pork chop. Below it, a large poster of Reuben’s face looks back at us, his bright eyes frozen in time.

Jesse shifts awkwardly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah..."

Lukas' expression softens, his usual confidence giving way to quiet concern. "How are you doing?" he asks, his tone gentle.

Jesse glances at me, his eyes searching mine. I hold his gaze and nod in encouragement, silently telling him that it's okay to speak his mind. He exhales deeply, dragging a hand through his already-messy hair.

"I really miss him." Jesse admits, his voice quiet, heavy with sorrow. "Every morning I wake up, and... just for a moment, I can pretend he's just in another room or rooting around outside, looking for carrots. And then... every morning, I get to remember all over again." His expression twists with grief, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.

A thick silence settles over the room. Lukas doesn’t speak right away, as if choosing his words carefully, but I don’t hesitate. I place a hand on Jesse’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze in an attempt to ground him.

"I'm sorry..." Lukas murmurs, eyes softening. Then, as if snapping himself out of the solemn moment, he shakes his head. "Okay, guys, I promise I didn’t come here to bum everyone out. I actually came back because I need to tell you something."

Jesse straightens, the shadow of pain still lingering in his features. Lukas continues. "It’s about this weird run-in I had... with Aiden."

At the mere mention of his name, a growl bubbles up from my throat. My hands clench into fists. "Aiden? What did he do now?" My voice is sharp, dripping with irritation. If he hurt Lukas—

"Man, he’s such a jerk. I mean, he never stops." Jesse mutters, rolling his eyes.

"He’s just been so jealous of you and the rest of the Order ever since you saved the world from the Wither Storm. He’s convinced that he was supposed to be a hero." Lukas explains, crossing his arms. His jaw tightens as he speaks, as if he’s been holding this in for a while.

"Aiden’s a stupid bully. He doesn’t scare me." Jesse scoffs, waving a dismissive hand.

"Yeah? That’s what I used to say too." Lukas counters, his voice dropping slightly. His expression darkens. "But he’s been freaking me out lately. He got super aggressive and demanded to know what treasure you were after. He went on and on about how Y/N was supposed to stay with him, how Jesse stole Y/N from him..." Lukas hesitates for a moment. "And his nose was pretty crooked. Did you guys do something?"

A sharp smirk tugs at the corner of my lips. "Aha, guilty. That was me. I might’ve... broken his nose." I admit without a shred of remorse. Then, I frown. "Okay, but real talk, what is his deal with me? He said the same thing about Jesse ‘stealing’ me when we ran into him."

Lukas sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Y/N... there’s something I didn’t tell you. I knew you wouldn’t like it."

Petra and Jesse turn their attention to Lukas, their expressions growing wary.

"And really? You broke his nose?" Lukas scoffs, though there’s amusement in his voice. "What was I expecting?"

"Wait—tell me what? What are you hiding from me, Lukas?" My stomach twists as I press him for an answer.

Lukas hesitates for a split second, then lets out a breath. "Aiden... he... there’s no good way to put this. When he first met you, it was a ‘love at first sight’ thing for him."

I blink, suddenly feeling a little nauseous.

"The second you weren’t paying attention, Aiden asked me to find out all your likes and dislikes so he could impress you." Lukas admits, his face twisting in discomfort. "I knew you didn’t feel the same, so I kept my mouth shut. But recently, it’s gotten to the point where he’s obsessed. He’s got this sick fantasy in his head that Jesse and the Order forced you to join, that they brainwashed you. That he’ll 'save you' and... well, you get the picture."

The air in the room shifts. My body feels tense, like a cord wound too tight.

Petra makes a disgusted face, her lip curling. "That is disgusting. Jeez, I knew something was up when Aiden kept staring at you like he wanted to eat you at EnderCon."

Jesse’s jaw clenches, his hands balling at his sides. "Is he that delusional? Does he really think you need saving? Hell, you’ve saved us more times than we’ve saved you." His voice is cold, darker than I’ve ever heard it.

I take a slow breath, forcing down the sheer disgust clawing at my throat. "Huh, looks like I’ll need to break his skull open next." I mutter through gritted teeth.

"Uh... let’s change the subject!" Lukas blurts out, shifting uncomfortably. "So, what did you find that got Aiden so riled up?"

Jesse exhales, as if shaking off the tension, and pulls something from his inventory. "Check it out." A grin flickers back onto his face.

Lukas leans forward as Jesse reveals the mysterious flint and steel, its surface glowing a strange, luminescent blue. "Whoa... what a weird glow..." Lukas murmurs, eyes widening as the light dances across his face.

"Yeah, I know. I’m supposed to show it to—" Jesse doesn't get to finish his statement.

"You found it!" Ivor shrieks, his voice slicing through the air like a blade.

I jump, whipping around as Ivor appears out of nowhere. My heart nearly flies out of my chest.

"Jeez, you have got to stop doing that!" I snap, glaring daggers at him.

"This is the greatest find of our time!" Ivor exclaims, practically vibrating with excitement as he clasps his hands together.

"Okay, spill. What’s it do?" Jesse asks, raising an eyebrow.

Ivor’s face lights up with a manic grin. "It proves what I’ve always suspected! That glow... that enchantment is the work of a very old group of builders, a group so old that they existed even before the Order of the Stone!"

Jesse’s eyes widen. "Wow, I didn’t know there was a time before the Order of the Stone."

"Incredible, isn’t it?" Ivor practically sings. "But I haven’t even gotten to the best part! You see, if these builders truly existed, and if you found their temple, that means we’re one step closer to finding the Eversource!"

"The ever what?" I ask, narrowing my eyes. The name tugs at something in the back of my mind, like an old memory just out of reach.

"The Eversource!" Ivor claps his hands together, eyes gleaming. "It’s said to be an object of incredible power! Possessed by the Old Builders, it was some sort of treasure or artifact that gave them an infinite supply of precious materials! Think about it—the temple must have been its hiding place!"

"Well, what are we waiting for? We’ve already been to that temple once. Going again will be easy!" Jesse says, a grin spreading across his face.

"Old Builders, Eversources, ancient mysteries? You know I’m in!" Petra adds with a nod.

"Ditto." I say, rolling my shoulders in anticipation.

"Excellent! I’ll pack my adventuring things immediately!" Ivor shrieks, spinning on his heel and sprinting off before any of us can stop him.

"Wait, he’s coming?" Petra groans, rubbing her temples.

"Wow, sounds like you guys have a lot to get to. I, uh... guess I’ll take off?" Lukas shrugs, already turning away.

"Ha! No chance! You’re coming with us!" I step into his path, crossing my arms with a smirk.

"Yep, what they said. I need a buffer between me and Ivor." Petra agrees, grasping Lukas's shoulder firmly.

Lukas hesitates for a moment, but I can see it—the excitement flickering behind his eyes. He wants to come. He just didn’t want to invite himself.

His grin widens. "Alright, alright. Count me in."

Chapter Text

A warm breeze rustles through the towering jungle trees, their emerald leaves shifting lazily under the golden sunlight. The temple stands before us, its stone walls weathered and cracked with age, yet still holding an air of silent pride, like a relic frozen in time. Vines drape over its structure, weaving through the crevices like nature itself is trying to reclaim the ruins.

"Look at this architecture!" Ivor breathes, eyes wide with awe. "So old! So exquisite!" His fingers twitch at his sides as if itching to reach out and trace the carvings etched into the temple’s surface.

"Hey, let’s not get all enamored with the architecture now. We’ve got a treasure to find." Jesse states, pulling Ivor back down to reality. Ivor pouts slightly, his dreamy expression fading into a huff, but he doesn’t argue.

As I stare up at the structure, an odd sensation pricks at the back of my mind. There’s something familiar about this place, something that tugs at the edges of my memory, just out of reach. I can’t place it, but it’s there, gnawing at me, a whisper of something long forgotten.

The feeling lingers as we step inside. The air is cool and thick with the scent of damp stone and old moss. Sunlight barely filters through the cracks in the ceiling, casting eerie shadows that stretch across the chamber. The more I take in the details—the worn carvings, the way the walls curve slightly inward—the stronger the sensation grows, like a distant echo ringing in my head.

"Wow, it looks so different during the day." Jesse muses, glancing around. The glowstone embedded in the walls flickers faintly, illuminating the temple in a soft, golden hue.

"Okay, but be careful what you touch." Ivor warns, his sharp eyes darting from wall to wall. "There could be traps everywhere!"

I barely register his words. My fingers graze the rough stone as I walk, the cool texture grounding me for a moment before the strange familiarity returns. A blurred memory presses against my mind, fuzzy and incomplete. I try to focus on it, to latch onto something concrete, but the more I reach for it, the more it slips through my grasp.

Frustrated, I pull a small object from my inventory, my fingers closing around the familiar fabric. My sister’s zombie plushie. The one Ivor had given back to me in his lab. I turn it over in my hands, my thumb tracing the tiny stitched mouth, and the worn plastic buttons that serve as its eyes.

Before my sister died, she had handed it to me with a small smile. "Keep it safe, okay? You need it more than I do. Maybe it’ll bring you luck!"

I had laughed at the time, waving her off. Now, I hold onto it like a lifeline.

Footsteps approach, light and careful. "Hey, Y/N, you alright? You’ve been kinda quiet." Jesse’s voice breaks through my thoughts. There’s a note of concern in his tone.

I blink, glancing up at him. "Yeah, fine. Why do you ask?" I scoff, tucking the plushie away.

Jesse doesn’t look convinced. His gaze flickers down to where my hand had been, then back up to my face. "Because the only time you’re quiet, or even touch that plushie, is when you’re stressed or thinking. Which is it?"

A dry chuckle escapes me. "It’s almost disturbing how well you know me."

Jesse doesn’t reply, waiting me out with that quiet patience of his. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "To answer your question, both. Now that this place is in broad daylight, my emotions are stirred up, and I don’t know why."

Jesse tilts his head to the side curiously. "What kind of emotions?"

I shift uncomfortably, crossing my arms. "This place... it feels familiar, like I’ve been here a long time ago. Like someone who lost their way being welcomed home with open arms." I exhale sharply, shaking my head. "But something’s missing. Out of place. It’s like there’s something I’m supposed to know and remember, but I’m drawing a blank... You probably think I’m crazy, huh?"

Jesse gives me a small, lopsided grin. "Not at all. It’s probably déjà vu or something."

I huff, unconvinced. "Yeah, you’re probably right. So, what do you think we missed last night?"

Jesse scratches his chin. "No idea, but we’ll find it. Eventually."

We continue searching the temple, peering into every corner and crevice, but nothing seems out of place. That is until Jesse’s gaze lands on something above us.

"That looks promising. I’m gonna head up." He points toward a hole in the ceiling, vines trailing from its edges.

"Fantastic, we’ll follow right behind you!" Ivor grins, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Uh, yeah. What he said." Petra adds, rolling her eyes.

Jesse grips the vines and begins climbing. For a moment, there’s only silence. Then—

"What is Jesse doing up there?!" Ivor groans, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Chill, he’ll tell us when he finds something." I reply, watching the opening above. Then, a strange mechanical whirring fills the air.

"Let’s go!" Petra urges, grabbing hold of a vine. We follow Jesse up, one by one, pulling ourselves into the hidden chamber.

The moment my feet hit the stone floor, my breath catches in my throat. A golden pattern glows faintly along the far wall, the stones shifting and rearranging themselves like pieces of an intricate puzzle. Dust drifts from the ceiling as a structure emerges—tall, rectangular, pulsing with unfamiliar energy.

"Some kind of... portal?" Lukas questions, taking a cautious step forward.

That feeling—the one that’s been nagging at me all day—claws its way back into my skull, stronger than before. The sight of the golden frame, the way the air hums around it, it’s all so... familiar. My fingers twitch, my heart pounding faster.

"Where does it lead?" Jesse asks, glancing at Ivor expectantly.

"I don’t know." Ivor admits, practically vibrating with excitement. "This portal, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen!"

Jesse pulls the enchanted flint and steel from his inventory, its eerie glow reflecting off his determined expression. He steps forward, striking the flint against the steel. The moment the flames touch the portal, a surge of energy explodes outward.

A shockwave knocks us off our feet. A brilliant flash of blue light erupts from the portal, swirling and pulsing like a storm contained within the frame. It hums with an almost hypnotic resonance, sending ripples of power through the stone beneath us. I groan, pushing myself up, my ears ringing from the sudden blast.

"Thanks for bringing this back to me, Jesse."

My blood runs cold. That voice. That smug, self-satisfied tone dripping with arrogance. I scramble to my feet, spinning around.

Aiden stands just a few feet away, the enchanted flint and steel twirling in his fingers. A wolfish grin spreads across his features. His sharp green eyes glint with malice, his posture relaxed, confident. Like he’s already won.

Aiden’s grin is smug and triumphant as he twirls the enchanted flint and steel between his fingers. Jesse’s jaw tightens, eyes flickering with frustration. He must have dropped it in the chaos.

"You’re gonna regret that, Aiden!" Jesse snarls, his scowl deepening.

Aiden’s expression darkens, his grip on the flint and steel tightening. "Step aside, Jesse. We’re heading through that portal." His voice drips with arrogance as Maya and Gill hoist themselves up from the floor below, flanking him like loyal attack dogs.

"Not a chance in hell!" I snap, stepping forward, my fingers curling around the hilt of my sword. Aiden’s sharp green eyes lock onto mine, a glint of amusement flickering through them.

"Ah, Y/N, feisty as ever." He muses, tilting his head slightly. "I’ll get to you later." His smirk is taunting, laced with something sinister that makes my stomach turn.

Disgust ripples through me, but before I can retort, Lukas steps closer, standing defensively at my side. "Aiden, you’re done." He states, his voice steady and cold. "This is where it ends."

Aiden chuckles, his fingers twitching slightly over his blade. "Fine. Blaze Rods! Clear me a path!"

Maya and Gill don’t hesitate. In an instant, their swords are drawn, their movements swift and precise. Gill lunges for Jesse, their weapons clashing with a metallic screech. Maya charges at Petra, who meets her blade with equal ferocity. Meanwhile, Aiden’s eyes flicker between me and Lukas before settling on my blond companion.

Lukas moves first, sprinting toward Aiden with determination. But Aiden is ready. He sidesteps smoothly, using Lukas’s own momentum against him. With a quick, brutal shove, Lukas is sent sprawling backward, colliding with the temple wall with a heavy thud.

"Lukas!" I shout, but I don’t have time to check on him.

Aiden turns to me next, drawing his sword in one fluid motion. I charge, swinging first, but he blocks my strike with a deafening clang of metal. Sparks fly between us as our swords lock, and for a moment, neither of us moves. But then, something shifts in Aiden’s eyes—something raw, something unhinged.

I grit my teeth, pushing against his blade with all my strength. But he meets my resistance with just as much force, shoving me backward until my boots skid against the stone. My balance wavers. Before I can recover, he abruptly steps away, pivoting on his heel. Then he bolts, sprinting toward the portal.

"Let’s go!" Aiden shouts, already halfway through the swirling blue vortex.

Maya and Gill immediately disengage from their fights, turning on their heels and dashing after him. Their figures disappear into the shimmering light.

"We’ve got to follow them!" Ivor exclaims, his expression twisted into a frustrated scowl.

Jesse straightens, gripping his sword. "We’re going after Aiden, and we’re going to take him down!"

Lukas and Petra exchange a brief look before sprinting into the portal after the Blaze Rods. I don’t hesitate. Heart pounding, I dive forward, the rush of energy swallowing me whole. A deafening roar fills my ears, and suddenly—I’m falling.

Wind rips past me, whistling through my clothes and tugging at my limbs. My stomach lurches as I plummet, weightless and disoriented. My arms flail, desperately reaching for anything solid.

Then, with a jarring impact, I collide with something hard. The breath is knocked from my lungs as my body sprawls against soft grass. I groan, pushing myself onto my elbows, my vision swimming from the fall. A rough breeze whips through the open space, carrying the scent of fresh leaves and damp earth.

I slowly get to my feet, shaking off the dizziness, and take in my surroundings.

An island. A floating island. Suspended in the sky with no ground beneath it. The realization sends a shiver down my spine. The void stretches endlessly below, an abyss of nothingness. There’s no bottom. No safety net. One wrong step and that’s it.

Ivor, Lukas, and Petra are here too, already recovering from the drop. But—where’s Jesse? A panicked yell cuts through the howling wind.

My head snaps upward just in time to see a flailing figure plummeting toward us. "Jesse!"

He collides with Ivor with a heavy thud, nearly sending the older man over the island’s edge. Ivor lets out a startled yelp, arms flailing wildly as he dangles over the void. Jesse, still gasping from his fall, reacts instantly. He lunges forward, seizing Ivor’s wrist before he can slip any further.

Ivor dangles helplessly, his fingers scrambling for purchase. Jesse grits his teeth, straining as he pulls. With one final heave, Ivor tumbles safely onto solid ground.

Jesse groans, rubbing his sore arms. "You’re surprisingly heavy!"

Ivor coughs, still catching his breath. "I am... the proportionate weight... for my height... thank you very much!"

Despite everything, I can’t help but roll my eyes. "Any sign of the Blaze Rods?" Jesse asks, scanning the landscape.

Petra shakes her head. "No, nothing!"

"Are they dead?" I ask, a little too hopeful.

"Do you think Aiden knew about all of this?" Jesse wonders, rubbing his chin. "The portal? The Eversource?"

"He definitely seems to know now." Ivor mutters, pacing anxiously.

The wind howls around us, pressing against my back like an invisible force trying to shove me forward. Jesse frowns suddenly, his gaze snapping toward the island’s edge.

"Hey... uh, you guys see that?" Jesse asks, pointing below.

Lukas steps closer, narrowing his eyes. "See what?"

I follow Jesse’s line of sight and feel my breath hitch. Beneath the thick layers of clouds, a vast city stretches out, its architecture grand and intricate. Towers of white stone rise into the sky, adorned with golden accents that shimmer in the sunlight. Suspended bridges and archways weave between the structures, defying logic as they float above the endless void.

"Whoa..." I exhale, awe creeping into my voice.

"Wow, it looks like some kind of city!" Jesse breathes, his expression mirroring my amazement.

Ivor’s eyes widen with childlike excitement. "That’s it! That’s where it must be! The Eversource!"

"A city in the clouds..." Petra murmurs, crossing her arms. "It almost sounds impossible."

Lukas frowns slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just don’t know how we’re gonna reach it."

I glance back down at the city below, the distance between us and it seemingly impossible to cross. A pit of uncertainty settles in my stomach.

A steady breeze brushes against my skin as the sun hangs high overhead, its golden rays glinting off the shimmering city before us. The sheer size of the place is overwhelming, every building is sculpted from radiant iron and gold, standing tall and regal against the endless sky. The sight alone is enough to leave anyone speechless.

Jesse, however, has other things on his mind. "Okay, guys, you know the drill. What did you bring with you?" His voice is firm, snapping us out of our daze.

Ivor scoffs dramatically, crossing his arms. "That's my private business!" He glares at Jesse, as if deeply offended by the mere question.

Lukas raises an eyebrow. "Didn't exactly bring a whole lot. Why?"

Jesse sighs, motioning toward the floating city. "Because we’re building a bridge, and it’ll take everything we have."

Lukas glances down at the void stretching beneath us, shifting uncomfortably. "I don’t know... seems like a long way. Do we even have enough blocks for that?"

"This island is bigger than it looks." Jesse assures him. "If we dig it up, we should have enough to get across."

Lukas hesitates but eventually nods, and we all start digging. The dirt crumbles beneath our tools, breaking away piece by piece, until there’s nothing left between us and the abyss below.

"Stop pushing!" Ivor whines, shifting away from the edge.

"I’m not pushing, Lukas is pushing!" Petra bickers, glaring at Lukas.

Lukas throws his hands up in exasperation. "I’m just trying to keep away from the edge!"

I grit my teeth, frustration boiling over. "Guys, for the love of the void underneath us, shut up! It’s all edge!"

That shuts them up real fast.

"Okay, that should do it." Jesse announces. "Let’s make that bridge."

Working quickly, I begin laying blocks, each step taking us closer to the gleaming city in the clouds. Behind us, Ivor suddenly veers off, humming to himself as he builds something out of spare materials. I don’t pay much attention—until I hear Petra groan. "Ivor. Seriously?"

I follow her gaze and let out a long, exhausted sigh. Sticking off the side of the bridge, crafted entirely out of stone and dirt, is a crude face... crying lava.

"Sorry! Can’t help myself!" Ivor says defensively, standing back to admire his 'work.'

Before anyone can argue, a panicked voice rings out from behind us.

"You’re building!"

We spin around. A man stands frozen, eyes wide in pure horror. His gaze jumps between each of us like he’s expecting lightning to strike us down at any second.

Jesse blinks. "Uh... yeah? We’re building. Is something wrong with that?" His voice is even, careful, like he’s trying not to scare the guy off.

The stranger visibly swallows, shoulders tensing. "I—uh... you don’t know?" His voice wavers, every syllable trembling. "You were building! Unauthorized building is against the law!"

I stare at him, waiting for the punchline. When it doesn’t come, Petra steps forward. "Wait, there’s a law against building?" Her tone is incredulous, but the man immediately flinches away from her, his fear worsening.

"Yes! It’s forbidden!" He insists.

I scoff. "Okay, haha, very funny."

But as I study his expression—how his hands tremble, how he avoids eye contact—I realize something. He’s not joking. "That’s insane!" Jesse exclaims. "Building is important. Everyone should be allowed to do it!"

The man wrings his hands together, looking around as if someone’s watching. "I—uh... um..."

I narrow my eyes. "Oh hell, spit it out!"

He visibly recoils at my tone. "This is too weird. First, those other outsiders, and now you?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

"Other outsiders?" Lukas steps closer, suspicion creeping into his voice.

The man flinches again, looking ready to bolt. "Uh... they went to the inn! I’m sorry, but that’s all I know!"

Then, before any of us can stop him, he whirls around and takes off at full speed.

"Wait, wait, wait! Come back!" Jesse calls after him, but the guy’s already gone.

Petra groans. "Anddd he’s gone."

Ivor strokes his chin, watching the direction the stranger fled. "I wonder if everyone here is that... nervous."

I shake my head and follow the others as we step through the city’s grand entrance. The moment we enter, I feel my breath hitch. Massive buildings tower above us, their surfaces gleaming under the sunlight. The entire city is crafted from iron and gold, polished so perfectly that it almost hurts to look at. The streets are pristine, lined with towering statues, intricate carvings, and archways that stretch high into the sky.

"Wow..." Lukas murmurs, tilting his head as he takes it all in.

"I see your wow and raise you a whoa." I tease, nudging him lightly. He chuckles, shaking his head.

Jesse shields his eyes, squinting against the golden glow. "What’s it made of? It’s kind of... blinding to look at."

"It looks like it’s all gold and iron blocks." Lukas observes. "Whoever built this place must’ve had rare materials to burn."

Ivor bounces on his heels, practically vibrating with excitement. "Yes! Clearly, the Eversource is capable of miraculous things! And when I get my hands on it..." His eyes gleam with unabashed greed.

Petra crosses her arms, shooting him a glare. "Hey! How about you take a massive chill pill, and we find it first?"

Ivor waves her off, deflating slightly. "Yes, yes! I’m just getting excited."

Lukas frowns. "As crazy as Aiden’s been lately, if he gets that thing, it would be bad."

I scoff. "Ugh, don’t remind me. For a minute, I actually thought he was dead."

Lukas nods grimly. "That would’ve made things easier."

Jesse sighs. "Look, we just need to find the inn that nervous guy mentioned. How hard could it be?"

Lukas strokes his chin thoughtfully. "No idea, but it’s definitely our best bet so far."

"Agreed." Ivor nods.

The others fan out, searching for any sign of the inn. I do the same, scanning the streets. Then, something catches my eye. A line. A long one.

At first, I think it’s a line for some kind of event, but as I step closer, I see where it leads—to a crafting table. Another long line stretches toward a single furnace.

Confusion prickles at the back of my mind. Why are they waiting? Why don’t they just use their own crafting tables?

A man in a pristine uniform stands at the front, his expression neutral. "Don’t worry, everyone, your time will come. Please have your materials ready when you approach."

Wait... turns? Do they not have personal crafting tables?

I spot Jesse a few feet away, approaching someone at the back of the crafting line. He speaks softly, probably trying to get some information, but the man stiffens, a look of fear flashing across his face. He mutters something under his breath before quickly brushing past Jesse, putting as much distance between them as possible. Something about this place is seriously wrong.

My eyes flick to a large sign, and Jesse joins me, reading it aloud. "No building, no crafting, no brewing, no forging—unless with express permission from the Founder."

I let out a low whistle. "Jeez. For a place that looks nice, it sure feels like a prison."

Jesse folds his arms. "No kidding. But... who’s the Founder?"

I shrug. "No clue."

Jesse huffs, rubbing his chin. "Any information on the inn?"

"Apparently a guy named Milo runs it." I tell him. "But that’s all I know."

Jesse nods. "Well, at least we know who we’re looking for."

I glance around once more, the eerie atmosphere settling in my gut. "Let’s keep looking."

Jesse nods in agreement, and together, we push forward.

Timeskip...
I haven't found anything. No signs of the Blaze Rods, no hints leading to the Eversource—just a whole lot of nervous glances from the locals and eerily silent streets. Maybe Jesse had better luck.

Spotting him up ahead, I make my way over. He’s locked in conversation with a man—blond, sharp blue eyes, dressed in messy suspenders. His hands twitch at his sides, and there’s a flicker of nervous energy radiating off him like he’s already anticipating trouble.

Before I can reach them, Ivor, Lukas, and Petra fall in beside me, their expressions mirroring my own curiosity.

"Look, I'm sorry, but it's like I told those other outsiders—I can't help you." The blond man says, voice tight with unease as he takes a step back.

"Hey, this our guy?" Petra asks, folding her arms as she sizes him up.

"He tell you where to find the Blaze Rods?" Ivor presses, his brow furrowing with impatience.

The man’s eyes dart between us, panic seeping into his expression. "How many of you are there?! I told you, I don't know anything!" He throws up his hands defensively, his movements frantic and erratic.

"Keep it down, will you? Relax, we won't hurt you!" I snap, lowering my voice but keeping it firm. He freezes at my words, his breath coming out shaky.

Jesse’s eyes darken as he steps forward, his voice low and threatening. "Don't lie to me, Milo. That's how bad things happen."

The man—Milo—flinches slightly, his shoulders tensing. For a moment, he looks like he might try to bolt. But then, with a resigned sigh, he finally relents.

"Fine." He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "If it will make you leave me alone... That Aiden fellow did come talk to me earlier. Wanted to know where the Eversource was." His gaze flickers away as he hesitates before continuing. "I just told him what everybody else already knows. The Eversource is in the palace—with the Founder. That’s all that happened, I swear."

Petra lets out a sharp scoff, her eyes narrowing. "Ugh! What a bunch of creeps."

Milo shifts uncomfortably, wringing his hands. "Yes, I wasn’t terribly fond of them."

"So, where is Aiden now?" I ask, keeping my tone polite despite the frustration gnawing at me.

Milo glances toward the towering structure in the distance. "The group left for the palace, and I haven’t seen them since."

Before we can ask more, a booming voice suddenly cuts through the air. "Attention! Attention, everyone! Just a moment of your time, please! Emergency meeting! Attendance is mandatory!"

The voice echoes across the city, bouncing off the gold and iron structures. The already bustling streets freeze in place. The townspeople, previously going about their routines, immediately turn toward the palace, their murmurs growing in concern.

Milo stiffens beside us. "Oh, slime blocks..." He groans under his breath before scurrying away into the growing crowd.

Ivor straightens, watching the scene unfold with curiosity. "Fascinating. I wonder what that’s all about."

We exchange looks before following the throng of citizens, weaving through the shifting sea of worried faces. Soon, we find ourselves gathered in front of the grand palace. The structure is even more imposing up close, its golden exterior gleaming in the sunlight, stretching high into the clouds. Ornate staircases lead to the entrance, where a small platform stands elevated above the crowd.

Gasps ripple through the people as a regal figure steps forward.

"It’s the Founder!" someone whispers in awe.

The woman standing above them is draped in flowing golden robes, the fabric catching the light with every movement. Her long black hair cascades down her back, and piercing green eyes sweep over the crowd with an air of command. She radiates authority, the kind that demands obedience without a single word.

But my attention barely lingers on her. Because standing beside her, wearing a smug, self-satisfied grin, is someone far more familiar.

Aiden.

My hands curl into fists. He stands there as if he belongs, like he hasn't spent the last few days trying to kill us, like he didn’t just steal from us and nearly leave us for dead.

He's with the Founder.

And something tells me this is about to get a whole lot worse.

Chapter Text

"Oh, this is not good." Jesse mutters, his jaw tightening as his eyes lock onto Aiden.

"What are you—" Petra follows Jesse’s gaze, her expression darkening the second she spots him. "Oh crap."

A surge of fury rises in my chest, my hands balling into fists. "Oh, when I get my hands on that slimy little—"

Before I can finish, a sharp voice cuts through the murmuring crowd.

"People of Sky City!" The Founder’s voice carries effortlessly over the plaza, each syllable crisp and commanding. "I’m sorry to pull you from your duties, but something urgent has come to my attention. A crime has been committed."

Gasps ripple through the assembled citizens. Nervous whispers spread like wildfire, and I feel the weight of their eyes shifting around us.

"Please, remain calm." The Founder continues, holding up a gloved hand for silence. "Earlier today, outsiders built a bridge into our fair city from a distant island. And whether these outsiders know it or not, this is a violation of Sky City’s most sacred law. No unauthorized building."

A tense silence hangs over the crowd before hushed murmurs break out once more. Some faces are curious, others fearful. But many wear expressions of barely concealed contempt.

I let out a sharp breath. "Welp... we’re screwed." I hiss under my breath, making Milo glance at me in alarm.

His eyes widen, flicking between me and the others. "Wait... are you the bridge builders?"

Curse my big mouth. I groan and run a hand down my face. "I cannot believe I just said that out loud." Aiden leans in toward the Founder, whispering something into her ear, his smug expression never fading. Whatever he says makes her already-stern face tighten further.

"Jesse, wherever you are, step forward now." the Founder demands, her piercing green eyes scanning the sea of people. "I have already been informed of your identity. I appreciate that you may be ignorant of our laws, but I will warn you—Sky City is small, and I promise that if you try to hide, I will find you."

The crowd parts slightly as armored guards begin moving through them, their heavy footfalls echoing against the golden stone. Jesse tenses. "This is bad."

"Wait!" Ivor exclaims suddenly, his voice urgent. "This is clearly our fastest way into the castle!"

"By getting arrested?!" Petra snaps, whipping her head toward him.

Milo steps closer, voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t be fooled by the Founder’s lies! I can help you come up with a plan to get into the palace."

Before anyone can respond, Ivor suddenly flails his arms, drawing attention to himself. "Here I am! I built the bridge!" He declares dramatically.

"Ivor, what are you doing?!" I hiss, eyes wide with disbelief.

The guards move in quickly, roughly grabbing Ivor by the arms. "Hey! Don’t treat him like that! We didn’t do anything wrong!" Jesse protests, his voice rising in anger.

Their eyes flick toward the rest of us. Yeah, no. Not happening.

"Aha, no. Bye!" I shout, breaking into a wild sprint.

I make it only a few steps before something heavy slams into my back, knocking the wind from my lungs. I hit the ground hard, my palms scraping against the rough stone. A shadow looms over me—a guard, already reaching for restraints.

I grit my teeth, pulling my arm back before driving my fist into his jaw. The crack of the impact reverberates through my bones. The guard recoils with a sharp grunt, clutching his face. Seizing my chance, I push myself up and bolt again.

"Hey! We got a fighter!" The guard shouts.

Three more guards tackle me before I can react, pinning my limbs with their combined weight. I thrash, growling in frustration, but their grip is ironclad.

"Hey! I’m going peacefully!" Ivor insists indignantly.

"Yeah, well I’m not!" I snap, aiming a sharp kick at the nearest guard’s shin.

"Y/N, stop fighting! You’re gonna get hurt!" Jesse’s voice cuts through my frustration.

I catch his gaze. His expression is tight with worry, his eyes practically pleading. Damn it all.

With an exasperated groan, I go limp in their grasp. "Fine! But I’m not happy about it! Curse your puppy eyes, Jesse!"

The guards hesitate, then loosen their grip slightly, realizing I’m no longer resisting. One of them roughly grabs my wrist, yanking me to my feet before dragging me toward the palace. As we’re forced forward, the Founder watches us with an impassive stare, her chin lifted in quiet authority. Her presence is overwhelming—radiating control and absolute confidence.

Finally, she speaks. "We meet at last."

Her gaze lingers on Jesse, assessing him with thinly veiled suspicion. Jesse squares his shoulders. "I don’t know what that guy has told you, but you can’t listen to him." He nods toward Aiden, who predictably looks as smug as ever.

Aiden gasps theatrically, pressing a hand to his chest. "Oh, Jesse, I’m hurt! Wounded!"

I roll my eyes so hard it’s a miracle I don’t see the back of my skull. "Oh, I’ll show you wounded when I get my hands on you, you slimy son of a—"

"Ahem." The Founder clears her throat sharply, cutting me off. Her eyes flick between Aiden and Jesse, clearly intrigued. "I admire your honesty in stepping forward. This should be... interesting."

Turning on her heel, she strides toward the grand entrance of the palace, her robes billowing behind her. A guard gestures for us to follow. We exchange wary glances but comply, stepping into the castle’s vast corridors.

We’re led into what appears to be a throne room, lined with towering marble pillars and ornate banners displaying the Founder’s emblem. At the far end of the hall, a massive throne sits atop an elevated platform. It’s elegant, intimidating—just like the woman who commands it.

"For your service to Sky City." The Founder addresses Aiden, Maya, and Gill, "I grant you these gifts."

A guard flicks a lever. From a side passage, minecarts roll into view, their rails leading down into what looks like a hidden tunnel. Ivor leans in, whispering excitedly. "Those minecarts she summoned! Those must lead to the Eversource!"

"Seriously?! That’s what you’re focused on right now?!" I hiss, shooting him a glare.

"We have bigger problems. Like Aiden." Lukas mutters, arms crossed.

"They’re right." Jesse agrees, watching Aiden closely. "We need to figure out what he’s up to before it’s too late."

"I’ve got a feeling I already know what Aiden is up to." Ivor says darkly.

Meanwhile, the Founder offers a sickeningly sweet smile toward Aiden and his little attack dogs. "Take your reward and enjoy the bounty of Sky City’s generosity."

One of the guards hands Maya and Gill a pile of carrots. Maya scowls, looking down at them in disgust. "Carrots? Really?!"

Aiden quickly nudges her, silently warning her to keep quiet. He plasters on a smile, bowing slightly. "We are honored, wonderful Founder."

I barely resist the urge to gag.

"Of course." the Founder replies smoothly. "Now go. I have criminals to deal with."

"Ah, of course." Aiden says, stepping back. But before he turns, his lips curl into a smirk. "But about what we discussed..."

The Founder nods. "Do not fret. I will break this mind control they have over your friend, and they will return to you safe when I am finished."

Aiden’s smirk widens as he casts a slow glance toward me. His emerald eyes glint with something sickeningly possessive.

"Good luck, Jesse." He whispers, stepping closer to him. "I hope you like being doomed."

Jesse glares. "You’re going down, Aiden. I’m gonna stop you."

Aiden’s grin falters for just a second. His confidence wavers—then hardens. He shoves Jesse back before turning toward me.

"Don’t worry, Y/N. You’ll be safe and sound in no time. Back where you belong."

That’s it. Before I can think twice, my fist swings forward, colliding with his jaw. The force sends him staggering back, clutching his face.

"News flash, Aiden. I will never side with you. I am not brainwashed—you’re just a jealous prick with his head too far up his own ass to listen!" I snarl.

The guards tense, ready to grab me again.

"Enough!" The Founder snaps. "Bring them to me."

Aiden smirks one last time before strutting away. And I swear—this isn’t over.

""Jesse and accomplices... you have committed an unwanted act of illegal building, something specifically forbidden by our laws." The Founder’s voice carries through the grand chamber like a blade slicing through silence, cold and precise. Her piercing green eyes bore into Jesse, waiting for an answer.

Jesse folds his arms, unimpressed. "Yeah, I've heard about this little law of yours, and I gotta tell ya, it’s really stupid." He rolls his eyes, unbothered by the tension in the air.

A flicker of something crosses the Founder’s face—annoyance, maybe—but she remains composed. "I knew you were a criminal, but I didn’t know you were also so naive." Her voice hardens, sharp as iron. "Aiden told me all about you, Jesse. About how you're a tyrant back home. About how you and your so-called ‘Order of the Stone’ steal all the world’s treasures for yourselves. About how you're here to take the Eversource from my kingdom." Her gaze shifts, resting on me for a long, uncomfortable moment. "About how you've brainwashed his friend into committing violent acts in your name."

I nearly choke. Does she actually believe this garbage?

"Listen, Founder..." Jesse says, exasperated. "Aiden is a master manipulator. He would say anything to get his hands on the Eversource."

The Founder doesn't flinch. "Much like you seem to be doing right now." She counters smoothly. "Jesse, it's clear that you're the little ‘ringleader’ here, so how about you come with me?" She steps down from her throne, motioning to a guard.

A heavy hand clamps onto Jesse’s arm, pulling him forward. He doesn't resist, but I see the way his jaw tightens, his mind already racing for a way out of this.

As he’s led out of the chamber, my stomach twists uneasily.

Finally, the door slams shut behind them, leaving only the rest of us—and a few guards—standing in the dimly lit room.

Ivor clears his throat. "Uh... what exactly was she talking about? 'Jesse brainwashing Aiden’s friend to commit violent acts in his name'?" His curious gaze flicks to me and Lukas.

Lukas lets out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. "Ohhh yeah, you don’t know."

I glance at him. Do we really have to go into this right now?

But before I can stop him, Lukas continues. "Long story short—when I was running the Ocelots, Y/N was part of the group. And when Aiden met them, he got... attached."

"Attached?" Ivor repeats, raising an eyebrow.

I scoff. "More like obsessed. The second I left to run with Jesse and the Order after the witherstorm incident, he lost it."

"Obsessed enough that he’s convinced himself they didn’t leave by choice." Lukas adds, crossing his arms. "Aiden’s jealousy has made him blind to the truth. He actually believes Jesse and the rest of us 'stole' them away."

Ivor’s eyes widen as realization dawns. "Ohhhh. So that’s why he’s so fixated on you." He taps a finger against his chin, gears turning in his head. "We could have used this against him! Made him think you were still on his side, so we could figure out what he’s planning!"

I stare at him, blinking. That actually... would’ve been a really good idea.

"Too late for that now." Lukas mutters.

"Besides, you just announced your brilliant plan in front of the guards." Lukas hisses, throwing Ivor a pointed look.

Ivor stiffens. His eyes dart toward the armored figures stationed around the room. "Oh. Right." He clears his throat. "Forget I said anything."

Before I can say anything else, the chamber doors swing open with a heavy creak. The Founder strides back in, her golden robes flowing behind her like a storm rolling in. Behind her, Jesse is being dragged forward by a guard, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"I now see that Aiden was right." The Founder declares, her voice laced with cold satisfaction. "You’re nothing more than a common thief, here to steal the Eversource and destroy our community. Therefore, it is with great pleasure that I sentence you and your companions to be imprisoned indefinitely."

A pit forms in my stomach.

"But first." She continues, her gaze locking onto me. "I want to speak with that one. Alone."

My spine stiffens under her scrutiny. Lukas and Ivor are seized immediately, their protests drowned out by the clanking of armor as guards drag them toward the exit. Jesse struggles against the captain—Reginald, I think his name was—his expression twisted in frustration.

As they’re pulled away, Jesse catches my gaze. Don’t do anything stupid, I try to will the thought into his head.

His lips press into a firm line, but he doesn’t look away as the doors slam shut, leaving me and the Founder alone. Silence settles between us, heavy and tense.

"Now then, outsider." She says, stepping forward. "Tell me, what is your name?"

I lift my chin slightly. "Y/N. Why?"

A knowing gleam flickers in her eyes. "So my assumption was correct. You are the one Aiden spoke of."

My stomach churns with unease. She gestures for me to follow, turning on her heel. After a brief hesitation, I trail behind her.

She leads me through a series of corridors before stopping at a large balcony overlooking the void below. A massive tree stands beside it, its roots twisting into the stone, its leaves rustling softly in the high-altitude wind.

The Founder exhales slowly. "You are safe now. You don’t have to fear Jesse or his companions anymore."

I resist the urge to groan. Here we go. "Let me guess." I deadpan, folding my arms. "Aiden told you I was brainwashed into joining them."

She nods. "Yes, he did. That is why I wish to speak with you. So I can undo the damage done."

I run a hand down my face. "There is no damage. Because I wasn’t brainwashed."

The Founder regards me carefully. "Y/N, I can tell you are someone with sense, so I must ask—why would you willingly join a group of criminals?"

I let out a sharp breath. "Because they aren’t criminals. They’re heroes. Back home, they help people. They don’t steal, they don’t destroy. Aiden is the one who’s dangerous here, not them."

She remains silent, studying me. I press on. "He’s jealous." I say, my voice steady. "He can’t stand that Jesse and the Order are respected, that people look up to them. And yes, once upon a time, Aiden and I were ‘friends,’ but that’s long in the past. He refuses to accept that. He’s blinded by his own bitterness, and he will say anything to make us look like the villains."

A flicker of doubt crosses her face, just for a moment. She isn’t convinced yet. But she’s listening.

"Look, if you won't trust Jesse, then trust me." My voice is firm, unwavering. "We are trying to help you. You have the wrong people behind bars. The second you let Aiden near the Eversource, his true colors will show—I promise you that." My gaze locks onto hers, searching for any hint of doubt in those sharp green eyes. "I'm not trying to change your mind. I already know that's not gonna happen. But I am trying to warn you—don’t trust Aiden."

The words hang heavy in the air between us. The Founder remains silent, her gaze shifting to the endless void below. A gust of wind brushes past us, ruffling the gold trim of her robes. Something flickers across her expression—uncertainty, maybe? Or calculation?

Then, her lips press into a thin line.

"Funny." She muses, her voice carrying a cold edge. "Aiden told me not to trust you. That you have a way with words... after being brainwashed."

My stomach twists.

"Guards, remove this criminal from my sight at once!" Her command rings through the air like a final verdict, sharp and absolute. Fuck.

A firm hand latches onto my wrist, yanking me backward before I can react. My muscles tense instinctively, but I don’t fight it. Not yet. The guard grips me like I’m some kind of flight risk, dragging me down the long, echoing corridor. My boots scuff against the polished floor, irritation bubbling beneath my skin.

"If you could stop dragging me, that’d be great!" I snap, jerking my arm. "I’m cooperating, aren’t I?"

The guard’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin. "Ahem. I'll handle it from here." A calm but authoritative voice interrupts.

The pressure on my wrist disappears instantly. Captain Reginald.

I yank my arm back as the first guard nods stiffly and steps aside. Reginald doesn’t even acknowledge me at first, already moving toward a heavy iron door set into the stone wall. His armor clinks lightly as he flicks a lever.

With a groan of metal, the cell door swings open. Then, without warning, Reginald shoves me inside. The world tilts. My foot catches awkwardly on the uneven stone floor, and gravity takes over. Air rushes past me, and I brace for impact.

But instead of cold, unforgiving stone—

Something warm. Solid. A pair of strong arms lock around my waist, steadying me before I can fully process what just happened.

My breath catches.I look up, meeting familiar hazel eyes, wide with surprise. Jesse.

He holds me close, his grip steady, his expression somewhere between shock and mild panic. "Um... hi." Jesse says awkwardly, his voice just above a whisper.

"Hi." I murmur back, not daring to move.

The silence stretches between us. The air suddenly feels too thick, too still.

"Uh... you can let go of me now." I manage, forcing a small, sheepish smile.

Jesse’s eyes flicker with realization. "Oh! Right—" He releases me immediately, his hands lingering for half a second before pulling away.

I step back quickly, avoiding eye contact, my face heating. My arms cross tightly over my chest, like that’ll somehow ground me.

Outside the cell, Reginald hums to himself, completely unbothered by the moment, rifling through a large chest filled with our confiscated belongings.

"You guys have some really fascinating stuff in here." He comments, flipping through the items with mild curiosity.

Jesse glares. "You suck, Reggie."

Reginald scoffs. "Hey! I'm just... doing my job."

"Tch. Whatever, Reggie." Ivor mutters, rolling his eyes.

The guard ignores the jab, continuing to poke through the chest. He picks up a small block, turning it over in his hands. "Oh wow, what is this?" He squints at the object like it’s some kind of foreign artifact.

Lukas tilts his head. "Uh... that’s mine?" His voice is unsure, as if questioning how someone could possibly not recognize it.

Jesse stares blankly. "It's called sand. You've never seen sand before?"

Reginald's face lights up with genuine fascination. "Sand... wow. What does it do?"

I press my lips together, trying—failing—not to snort.

"Are you kidding me?!" Ivor bursts, throwing his hands in the air. "We are NOT explaining sand to the guy locking us up!"

Reginald frowns but tosses the block back into the chest. "Well, whatever it does, it’s going in here with everything else."

Ivor’s expression darkens, his lip curling in disgust. "Nothing sadder than an unimportant man on the world’s tiniest power trip."

I sigh, rubbing my temples. "Need I remind you that was you once, Ivor?"

Ivor flinches slightly, then scoffs. "Not the same."

"Hey, I don’t have to take this!" Reginald snaps, puffing out his chest slightly. "I’m in charge here! You’re criminals! Aiden told everyone all about how horrible you are!"

His gaze shifts to Jesse. "He said you burn down trees for fun. That you steal all the world’s treasures and hoard them for yourselves." Then, his eyes land on me, and there’s something sharper in them now. "That you brainwashed an innocent person to commit crimes in your name."

A fresh wave of irritation burns through me. Jesse steps forward, gripping the iron bars between them. "You can’t believe anything Aiden says. He’s a liar."

Reginald hesitates, just for a second. And I see it. Doubt. It’s small, buried beneath years of drilled-in loyalty to the Founder. But it’s there.

"He said you’d say that." Reginald argues, his scowl deepening as he folds his arms across his chest. His stance is rigid, but there’s hesitation in his posture, the smallest crack in his confidence.

"Yeah? Well, did he tell you that I used to be his 'friend' once?" I take a step closer, locking eyes with him. "If anyone knows what Aiden is really like, it’s someone who spent time with him. Aiden is a manipulator—he’ll say whatever he can to get what he wants. Besides, doesn’t accusing someone of a crime without evidence seem like something a liar would do?" My voice is firm, but not pleading. Just a simple, undeniable truth.

Reginald shifts uncomfortably, his fingers tapping against the hilt of his sword. "I... suppose you’re right." He mutters, gaze flicking to the cell bars. "I didn’t consider it like that..." His grip on authority seems to waver for a second before he straightens up. "I’m sorry, but this is the way it has to be! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go help the Blaze Rods beef up security."

Jesse scoffs, frustration evident in the tension of his shoulders. "I can’t believe you’re taking orders from that sniveling little—"

"Just stay here and don’t cause any trouble." Reginald cuts him off, clearing his throat as he straightens his stance. "I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable."

That sets something off in me. I step forward, my voice sharp. "Wait. The Blaze Rods helping with security? Don’t you find it odd that a group of outsiders outrank you? You’re the captain of the guard, right? Security is your job, not Aiden’s."

Reginald falters, glancing away. "Really? Kinda seems like a 'your word versus theirs' situation." He says, but the uncertainty in his voice betrays him.

Jesse steps in, voice firm but coaxing. "Reggie, think about it. They want you out of the way. They’re upstairs, 'beefing up security' while you’re stuck down here, locking up prisoners."

Reginald's brows knit together, realization dawning on his face. "You’re right." He mutters under his breath. "While I’m down here, who knows what they could be telling her?" He exhales sharply, as if cursing himself for not realizing sooner. "Ugh... okay, let’s say you make a good point. I’m not saying you do! But hypothetically, why would I, captain of the guard, let you, criminals, out of that cell?"

"Because whether you like it or not, we’re on the same side." I state plainly.

Reginald’s gaze locks with mine, his jaw tightening as he mulls it over. Silence stretches between us before he sighs heavily.

"Ahem. Same side, huh?" His voice drops to a murmur, just enough for us to hear. "Okay... let’s say I’m heading to the pantry to get you prisoners some bread." He gives us a pointed look, and I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Jesse catches on instantly. "How long would you say something like that would take you, on average?" He strokes his chin, playing along.

Reginald’s lips twitch like he’s trying not to smirk. "Probably about as long as it would take someone to get from here... to the throne room."

The iron door creaks open.

"Hurry. Get to the throne room and stop the Blaze Rods." Reginald urges, his voice quiet but urgent. Without another word, he turns on his heel and strides down the corridor, playing his part perfectly.

We waste no time. Moving swiftly, we navigate the long, winding corridors of the palace. The sound of our footsteps echoes against the cold stone as we approach the massive doors of the throne room. A stillness settles over the space as Jesse pushes the doors open, revealing the dark, cavernous hall.

"Well, here we are." Lukas murmurs, scanning the dimly lit chamber. "Back in the throne room."

"Keep your voice down!" Ivor hisses, glancing around warily. "We don’t know if we’re alone in here!"

Lukas exhales. "I don’t know. Looks deserted to me."

Jesse is about to respond when his expression changes—eyes going wide, lips parting in alarm.

"Behind you!" Jesse shouts. I don’t even have time to think. A rough hand clamps down on my shoulder. Instinct kicks in.

I pivot on my heel, grab my attacker’s wrist, and use his own momentum against him. With one swift motion, I flip his entire body over my shoulder. A startled yelp fills the air before he crashes onto the floor with a heavy thud.

In a flash, my sword is drawn, the tip pressing against his throat. My heart pounds in my chest, muscles tensed, ready to strike.

"Y/N, easy! It’s Milo!" Petra’s voice cuts through the haze.

My breath hitches. My vision adjusts to the dim light, and sure enough, the man beneath me isn’t an enemy. It’s Milo. His face is frozen in shock, eyes darting between my blade and my expression. His chest rises and falls quickly, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t fight back. I exhale sharply, sheathing my sword and stepping back.

"I can’t believe it! You guys made it out!" Petra grins, seemingly unfazed by my sudden takedown.

"I can’t believe you attacked me!" I growl, throwing a glare Milo’s way.

Milo, still lying flat on the floor, rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "Ah yes, I am sorry about that. And I must admit, you are much stronger than you look. I wasn’t expecting to be judo-flipped over your shoulder with such ease."

I cross my arms. "Uh... thanks?" I arch an eyebrow at him.

Jesse shakes his head. "Uh, maybe you should look at someone’s face before blindly attacking them next time. Pro-tip."

"I am terribly sorry." Milo sighs, finally sitting up. "However, I was quite literally knocked flat for my mistake." His eyes flick to me, clearly impressed despite himself.

I smirk. "All is forgiven."

Milo sags in relief. Ivor, on the other hand, remains unimpressed. "What are you doing here anyway? I don’t see any inns that need keeping."

Milo dusts himself off and straightens. "In actuality, I’m the leader of a group that wants the same thing you do."

Petra grins. "It’s a rebellion."

Milo nods. "It is a long story. In short, my people want to free the Eversource from the Founder’s clutches so that everyone may use it. But if Aiden and his Blaze Rods steal the Eversource, we’ll just be trading one tyrant for another—and I won’t allow that."

"Yeah, he’s gotta be stopped." Lukas agrees.

Jesse steps forward, nodding firmly. "Milo, I’m happy to have you aboard. Welcome to the team."

Milo beams. "Very pleased to be involved."

"The Founder’s secret entrance is supposed to be somewhere in this throne room." Milo explains, his excitement returning.

Jesse scans the room, his gaze landing on something. "Y’know, there was a door here before, with a minecart." He points to an iron wall with a rail running underneath it. An exposed redstone circuit sits beside it.

"Looks like we need a lever to activate the redstone. That should open it. Got one on you?" I ask, nodding toward the obvious mechanism.

Jesse shakes his head. "No, but I’m sure we can find one."

And with that, we spread out, searching for the missing piece to unlock the next step in our mission.

Chapter Text

"So, I know this is going to sound odd, but could you teach me that move you did earlier?" Milo asks, rubbing the back of his neck. His blue eyes are filled with genuine curiosity, though there's a flicker of lingering wariness—probably from the fact that I had just thrown him across the room.

I blink at him. "What move?"

"The one where you yanked me over your shoulder like I weighed nothing." He gestures vaguely, still processing what happened. "That was quite impressive, even if I was the target."

I let out a short chuckle, scratching my head. "Uh... to be honest, that was mostly impulse. It's not really something I can teach. Besides, I'm a horrible teacher."

Milo sighs but nods in understanding. "Ah, I see. That is quite alright. I doubt I would have the patience to learn anyway."

Before I can respond, Jesse approaches, rubbing his hands together as he eyes Milo. "Hey, guys. So, Milo, do you have any... underground rebel-type secrets that could help us out here?" His tone is casual, but there's an edge of urgency underneath it.

Milo presses his lips together in thought before shrugging. "Eh... I'm afraid not. Though I will certainly tell you if I think of any."

"Hey Jesse, I saw a cobblestone generator by that big tree. Might be of some help." I shrug, nodding toward the large tree.

He follows my gaze to the massive tree overlooking the endless void below. "Good eye. I might be able to craft a lever if I can find a stick. Thanks, Y/N." Jesse says with a nod before heading off toward the generator.

A few minutes later...

Jesse strides back into the throne room, holding up a lever like it's a trophy. "Got it!"

He kneels beside the Redstone circuit, fixing the lever into place before giving it a firm flick. A deep mechanical groan echoes through the chamber as the iron wall rumbles to life, slowly sliding open. Beyond it, a dimly lit passageway stretches into the darkness, with a row of minecarts waiting for us.

"Eversource, here we come." Jesse announces, hopping into one of the carts.

We all follow suit, climbing into our own minecarts before they lurch forward, the rails clanking beneath us.

Many sharp turns later...

The minecarts screech to a grinding halt, the sound of metal scraping against metal filling the air. The scent of old stone and dust hangs heavy in the dimly lit space. As we step out, my gaze sweeps over the massive room before us.

Rows upon rows of chests line the walls, each marked with signs scrawled in neat handwriting. A large opening at the far end reveals the sky beyond, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting everything in a warm, golden glow.

"Wow, look at all these chests." Jesse murmurs, stepping forward.

"Yeah... and they're all labeled?" Petra mutters, running her fingers over a sign.

"Creeper... zombie... sheep... pigmen... curious." Milo reads aloud, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"But what does it mean?!" Ivor groans, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Jesse steps toward a chest labeled Sheep and pops it open. He hesitates before pulling out a small, round object. A white-and-tan egg.

"Eggs? The sign says 'Sheep,' not 'Eggs.'" Lukas states, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Here, let me see." I reach for the egg, and Jesse hands it to me carefully. The texture is smooth beneath my fingertips, and the speckled pattern is unmistakable. My stomach twists as recognition settles in.

"It's a spawn egg." I explain, holding it up for the others to see. "You throw them, and a creature comes out. This one's a sheep."

Ivor narrows his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, I pull my arm back and toss the egg against the stone wall. The shell cracks open upon impact, shattering into nothingness—and in its place, a fluffy white sheep appears, bleating softly.

"Told you." I grin.

Jesse takes a cautious step closer, inspecting the sheep as if he half-expects it to explode. "How did you know it would do that?"

I shrug. "My dad used to have some. We had animals that my siblings and I took care of, and my dad used spawn eggs to get them."

Milo looks both fascinated and horrified. "Is... is that a monster?" He studies the sheep as if it might suddenly attack him. "It's not so bad... and quite fluffy."

Lukas, still processing the discovery, pulls out two more eggs from a chest. One is bright yellow with black speckles; the other is a paler gold. "Wait... are these the same thing?"

I nod. "Yeah, the different colors represent different creatures. The one with black markings is an Ocelot. The lighter one is a Horse."

"So she can just spawn things whenever she wants?" Petra asks, pulling another egg from a chest.

"Looks like it." I answer.

Jesse straightens, his gaze sweeping over the many chests lining the walls. "So, the Eversource makes these spawn eggs..."

The realization clicks into place, and Ivor nearly vibrates with excitement. "Meaning Y/N's father had access to the Eversource! You must know what it is! Surely you've seen it before!" He suddenly lunges forward, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me with enough force to make my head spin.

"I have no idea!" I snap, prying his hands off me. "He never mentioned the Eversource—I've only seen the spawn eggs!"

Ivor lets out an exasperated groan, but his disappointment is fleeting. "Bah, never mind that! We'll see it soon!"

Jesse rolls his eyes before gesturing toward the far end of the chamber. "Let's take a look around."

We spread out, scanning the area for any clues. As I weave between the chests, a narrow hallway comes into view, barely visible in the dim light. Jesse and I move toward it, our steps careful and quiet. The passage is eerily silent at first, but then—

A soft rustling. Jesse tenses beside me, crouching into a defensive stance. My fingers tighten around the hilt of my sword as the noise grows louder.

Then, out of nowhere—

CLUCK!

A white blur shoots into view, skidding across the stone floor. My heart nearly stops as a chicken—a chicken—bolts past us, flapping its wings frantically as it nearly trips over something heavy. A golden medallion gleams around its neck, and atop its head sits a small, delicate crown.

For a long moment, none of us move. The chicken—this royal chicken—puffs out its chest, regarding us with the same regal disdain I'd expect from an actual ruler.

"Incredible!" Milo shouts, his voice echoing through the chamber, filled with awe as he stares at the peculiar sight before us.

"Guys, meet the Eversource." Jesse announces, his eyes locked on the decorated chicken, which struts proudly across the stone floor, its golden medallion glinting under the dim torchlight.

"No way..." Lukas mutters, his jaw nearly hitting the ground as he takes in the absurdity of it all.

"That... makes way too much sense." I sigh, shaking my head as the chicken clucks loudly, ruffling its pristine white feathers.

"Yes, of course! The spawn eggs! It's so simple!" Ivor exclaims, his eyes wide with manic glee. "This chicken lays the eggs, the eggs spawn monsters, and the loot from those monsters built this entire city!"

Jesse hums in thought, piecing it all together. "So the chicken lays the eggs, and the eggs create monsters, and the loot from the monsters made this place..."

"Well, throw it in the minecart, and let's get out of here! We're still taking it, right?" Ivor presses eagerly, rubbing his hands together. His voice sends a ripple of panic through the room as the chicken squawks in alarm, flapping its wings wildly.

"The chicken that the entire city depends on?!" Lukas snaps, his arms crossing tightly. "Are you sure that's a good idea?!"

"I agree. If we take the chicken, how will the innocent people of this city survive?" I growl, narrowing my eyes at Ivor.

"What are you talking about?! We need to bring it to the people!" Milo argues, stepping forward with a determined scowl. "With it, we'll finally be free of the Founder's rule!"

"Milo's right." Jesse nods, his voice firm. "We need to bring it to the people."

Milo grins smugly, but Ivor glares daggers at Jesse. "You can't be serious!"

Jesse ignores him and reaches for the chicken. The moment his hands graze its soft feathers, the bird lets out a shrill squawk, flailing wildly in his grip.

Then—everything happens in a blur.

A streak of gold flashes in my vision. Before I can react, Petra and Ivor hit the ground hard. Milo follows, collapsing with a startled grunt. My heart leaps into my throat as I whirl around.

The Founder stands before us, her emerald eyes blazing with fury, twin iron swords glinting in her grip. Behind her, Maya and Gill stand poised, their blades raised over Petra, Milo, and Ivor like executioners. But my gaze locks onto the last figure in the room.

Aiden.

He stands just behind the Founder, arms crossed, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. His green eyes glimmer with triumph.

"I knew it! I knew you were here to steal from me!" the Founder snarls, stepping forward with a deadly grace.

"I was just holding it! I wasn't gonna steal it!" Jesse protests, raising his hands in surrender.

"It's just like I told you, Founder!" Aiden sneers, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "They're here to steal the Eversource! Classic Order of the Stone."

Jesse quickly releases the chicken, and it flutters away with an indignant squawk.

"No, no, no! You don't get to spin it like this, Aiden! You're the bad guy!" Jesse snaps, eyes narrowing in anger.

"And I'm supposed to believe the escaped convict?" the Founder retorts, her grip tightening on her swords.

Aiden takes a careful step back, feigning innocence. "Aiden warned me you were a pack of thieves..." She begins.

I cut her off, my patience wearing dangerously thin. "Uh, Ms. Founder?" I say sharply, my eyes flicking to Aiden.

She ignores me, continuing her self-righteous speech. "And here you are, prepared to make off with the one thing our city needs to survive!"

"Founder lady! Whatever your name is, look behind you!" I yell, my voice carrying urgency.

She finally turns, her gaze landing on Aiden. He stands next to a chest, a spawn egg twirling between his fingers. It's black and green.

My blood turns to ice. That's a creeper spawn egg. "When you put it that way, I almost feel bad." Aiden muses, a wicked grin curling at his lips. "Yep, looks like I'll be taking the chicken."

"What?! This is outrageous!" The Founder exclaims.

Aiden's smirk widens. His eyes flick between the egg in his palm and the Founder's stunned expression.

"Aiden, please... don't do this." The Founder pleads, her voice losing its authority for the first time.

Aiden tilts his head. Then, he grins."Somebody order eggs?" And then—he throws it.

"Get down!" I shout, lunging forward. I tackle the Founder just as the egg sails past us. Jesse barely dodges as it crashes into the stone wall. The shell shatters, and for a split second, all is silent.

Then—

SSSSSSSSSSS...

The hiss cuts through the air like a dagger. The Founder shoves me off her, scrambling to her feet just as the creeper's body begins flashing white. Before she can react, the explosion detonates. A deafening BOOM rocks the chamber.

The blast sends her flying. Her body slams into the edge of the island, and for a heart-stopping second, she teeters there, fingers desperately clawing at the stone, inches from plunging into the endless void below. Jesse rushes toward her, but I don't get to see what happens next, because Lukas and I are already charging at Aiden.

Aiden sees us coming and acts first. His fist collides with Lukas's jaw, sending him staggering backward. My heart stops as Lukas loses his footing.

He stumbles once. Twice.

Then—he's gone. He disappears over the edge.

"No!" I scream, my vision blurring with rage. Blind fury takes over. I charge at Aiden, my only thought being to take him down.

But Aiden is ready. He sidesteps at the last second, grabbing my wrist and twisting sharply. A burst of pain shoots up my arm as he yanks me toward him, using my own momentum against me. His knuckles crash into my face, sending my vision spinning. The force knocks me backward, my head colliding with something hard and unforgiving.

Pain explodes in my skull.

Dizzy, I struggle to push myself up, but Maya is already there, her sword pressing against my throat.

I watch as Aiden approaches Jesse's turned back. "Watch out!" I yell, but it's too late. Aiden drives his foot into Jesse's back, sending him hurtling forward.

Jesse slams into the Founder—and together, they tumble over the edge.

"No!" The word rips from my throat as I shove Maya's blade away, sending it clattering across the stone.

I bolt past her, everything else fading away. My legs move on their own, the only thought in my head being to stop Aiden. My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I raise my sword, every muscle in my body coiled with rage.

Aiden's cocky smirk falters as his eyes snap to me, widening in shock. He's not fast enough. I swing, my blade whipping through the air. 

But before my blade can reach him, something solid crashes into the back of my neck.

"Ack!" I cry out as a sharp impact crashes against the back of my head, my body collapsing onto the cold, unyielding stone floor. My vision wavers, dark spots creeping in at the edges as the world tilts unnaturally. The distant sound of chains clinking echoes through the air, distorted and sluggish in my dazed mind.

Maya looms over me, her lips curling into a smirk of satisfaction, the glint of her sword reflecting the dim light of the throne room. Her stance is triumphant, as if she's already declared victory. My limbs feel heavy, like they're being pulled down by unseen forces. I try to blink the haze away, but my eyelids resist, weighted down like iron.

Boots scrape against the stone, slow and deliberate. Aiden strides toward me, his smirk stretching wider, his emerald eyes gleaming with something dark and unhinged.

"Shhh... don't worry, my love." He murmurs, his voice disturbingly soft. My body is too sluggish to recoil as warmth suddenly engulfs me—arms wrapping around me, pulling me close. "You'll be safe soon."

The last thing I see is his crazed smile hovering inches from my face before the darkness finally swallows me whole.

Time passes in a fog.

A dull ache pulses at the back of my skull, throbbing in sync with my slow return to consciousness. My senses trickle back one by one—the faint sound of shifting metal, the chill of stone beneath me, and the familiar golden glow above. I force my heavy eyelids open, and a blurry figure shifts in my vision.

"You're okay!" Reginald's relieved voice cuts through the haze, and I blink rapidly, forcing my vision to focus.

Pain flares as I push myself upright, a sharp twinge at my wrists and ankles. The sound of clinking metal follows every slight movement. A cold, unyielding weight presses against my skin. I finally look down.

Shackles.

Thick iron cuffs are locked tightly around my wrists and ankles, thick chains are bolted into the wall behind me. The realization sends a sharp jolt of anger through my body.

"What happened? What's going on?!" I demand, my voice hoarse. I whip my head toward Reginald, but he only shakes his head in silent apology.

Then—footsteps.

"Reginald." A voice sneers, smooth and smug. My stomach twists with dread. "I do believe you were instructed to notify me as soon as they were awake." 

I slowly turn my gaze to the throne.

Aiden. He lounges in the Founder's seat as if he was born for it, fingers lazily stroking the Eversource, which clucks idly in his lap. The sight of him sitting there, comfortable, victorious, makes my blood burn.

Reginald steps back, his eyes darting away as Aiden rises from the throne with calculated ease. He moves toward me with a predator's grace, his smile disturbingly gentle.

"Hello, my love." He croons, his voice soft yet dripping with something possessive. "Good to see you're awake. I'm sorry for being so rough earlier, but it was necessary."

Something inside me snaps. "What?! I'm not your 'love'! Don't call me that!" I spit, my fury igniting like a spark hitting dry leaves.

Aiden pouts, feigning hurt. "Oh, but you are... You're safe now. No need to be shy."

"Shy? Shy?!" I let out a humorless laugh, my chains rattling as I step forward, only for the restraints to yank me back. "What the hell is wrong with you?! You killed Jesse and Lukas! What makes you think I'm being shy?! I promise you, it's not what you think."

Aiden tilts his head, a mockery of innocence flashing across his face. "Then what is it, love?"

My hands clench into fists, my nails biting into my palms. My entire body trembles, not with fear, but with barely contained rage. "It's pure fucking rage." I seethe. "When I get my hands on you, I'll rip you to shreds! There won't even be a body to bury when I'm done with you, you slimy son of a bitch!"

Aiden only chuckles, closing the distance between us until we're inches apart. His fingers brush against my waist, slow and deliberate.

"Don't threaten me with a good time." He murmurs.

Disgust churns in my stomach, my whole body recoiling at his touch. "You don't get it, do you?" I snarl. "I will never be with you. It doesn't matter what you say, what you do—I will always despise you."

Something shifts in Aiden's expression. The amusement in his eyes dims, replaced by something darker, something wounded and enraged.

"Why would you say such hurtful things, love?" His voice lowers, taking on a desperate edge. "You know I care for you, so why are you acting this way?"

"Acting?" My voice is sharp, cutting. "I'm not acting any type of way, Aiden! You killed my friends! Why would I ever care about you after everything you've done?!"

His entire body tenses, his hands clenching into fists. The flicker of desperation in his gaze vanishes, replaced by something bitter.

"Oh... I see..." Aiden's lips curl into a sneer, his face twisting with something venomous. "This is about Jesse."

My breathing quickens. I brace myself.

"You don't care about me." He snarls, stepping even closer. "Because Jesse stole you from me! He always gets everything he wants—treasure, fame, and even you!"

His grip suddenly latches onto my shoulders, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. His face is contorted with fury, a dangerous mix of obsession and resentment warping his features.

"Tell me." He seethes, his voice a near-growl. "What does he have that I don't?! What makes him so special?! Why did you choose Jesse?! Tell me!"

His eyes bore into mine, wild and unhinged, demanding an answer. But all I can think about is how I'm going to kill him. Slowly.

"Because... you're just a jealous prick who can't see past his own twisted delusions!" I snarl, every word laced with venom. "You wanna be a hero so bad, but let me tell you something. You will never be a hero. You'll always be the jealous bully. You'll always be outsmarted, outnumbered, and outdone. And when history remembers you, it'll only be as a failure."

Aiden's jaw tightens, his teeth grinding together audibly as his emerald eyes darken with rage. His grip on my waist tightens, fingers digging into my side hard enough to bruise. I struggle against him, but he yanks me closer, his breath hot against my face.

His other hand rises, cupping my cheek with rough force, tilting my face toward his so I have no choice but to meet his gaze. His fingers press against my skin, possessive, controlling. My stomach churns at the closeness, at the deranged obsession burning in his eyes.

Aiden leans in, his lips curled into a smug smirk, and my pulse pounds with revulsion.

Jesse's POV:

I race through the storm-ridden city, my breath coming in sharp gasps. The scent of smoke and rain fills the air, mingling with the cries of panicked civilians and the unearthly shrieks of mobs. My boots splash against the drenched pavement as I push forward, weaving through the chaos.

Then—a flash of red in the downpour.

"Jesse! You're alive?!" Petra calls, her voice barely cutting through the din of battle. Her eyes widen in shock before something large and white shifts in the sky above us.

A piercing screech cuts through the storm, blood-red eyes locking onto me.

A ghast.

Its round body shudders, then a burst of orange flares from its mouth. I dive to the right just in time, the explosion rocking the ground where I stood a moment ago. The air shimmers with heat, the scent of scorched stone filling my lungs.

Then, another—two more ghasts, all of them zeroing in on me.

I brace myself, ready to counter—but something crashes into me, shoving me out of the way just as another fireball detonates behind me.

I whip around. Ivor.

His usually wild expression is drawn tight, urgency flashing in his eyes. "Aiden has taken over the palace! He's holed up in the throne room, throwing those spawn eggs everywhere! And worse—he's holding Y/N hostage! No one can get inside thanks to Aiden's minions!"

I feel my blood go cold. Aiden—holding Y/N hostage.

I don't waste another second. "We have to stop them!" I snarl, gripping my sword so tightly my knuckles ache.

Ivor's expression shifts, eyes alight with understanding. "I know! Take one of these!" He shoves three potions into my hands, their colors swirling in the flickering torchlight.

"Got any potions of invisibility?" I demand, already sheathing my weapon.

"Here!" He holds up a pale white vial. I snatch it, popping the cork off with my thumb and downing the liquid without hesitation. The potion burns like acid as it slides down my throat, the foul aftertaste making me gag. But I shove it down and toss the bottle aside.

My skin fades into transparency. Perfect. The mobs pay me no mind as I slip past them, darting through the ruined city, silent as a shadow. When I near the palace gates, Maya and Gill stand guard. I slide past them effortlessly—until a wicked grin spreads across my face.

I ball my fist and sock Gill right in the jaw.

He stumbles, eyes darting around in panic. I bite back a laugh and keep moving, slipping through the corridors unnoticed. The closer I get, the louder the voices become—heated words echoing through the empty halls.

Then, my hand flickers. The invisibility is wearing off. I don't care. My heart pounds as I reach the entrance to the throne room. I press my hand to the heavy door, cracking it open just enough to see inside.

And what I see nearly makes me lose control. Aiden is standing over Y/N, his arm locked around their waist, his fingers gripping their cheek, forcing them to look at him. He leans in close, too close, his lips curling into a smirk as he stares at them like they belong to him.

Something inside me snaps. I see red.

Rage floods my veins, my vision tunneling in on Aiden's smug, twisted face. My muscles coil, ready to tear him apart limb by limb. The room vanishes, the storm outside fades, and all that exists is the need to rip him away from Y/N.

Then Reginald's eyes flick toward me. Aiden doesn't notice yet.

Good. Because the moment he does, I'm going to make sure he regrets every single second of his miserable life.

Y/N's POV:

Aiden's face inches closer, the heat of his breath ghosting over my skin. His grip tightens around my waist, his fingers digging in just enough to make my stomach churn.

"If you really feel that way." He murmurs, his voice gravelly and thick with self-satisfaction, "I'll just have to show you the error of your ways."

Before I can react, a voice—familiar, defiant, and filled with venomous rage—cuts through the air.

"Aiden, you've lost!"

Both Aiden and I snap our heads toward the source. Jesse. He's alive.

My breath catches in my throat, disbelief flooding my system. He stands at the entrance, drenched from the rain outside, his sword gripped so tightly his knuckles have gone white. But it's his eyes that paralyze me. They're locked onto mine for only a second before shifting to the chains clamped around my wrists. His gaze darkens, his pupils blown wide with something dangerous and raw.

If looks could kill, Aiden would already be rotting.

"I saw you fall! You went down!" Aiden shouts, his smirk faltering, his smug confidence cracking at the edges.

Jesse doesn't flinch, his shoulders rolling as he adjusts his grip on his sword. He looks every bit like the hero Aiden could never be. "You're alive! You're alive!" Reginald exclaims, his voice breaking with something between relief and awe.

But Aiden recovers quickly, masking his momentary shock with a sneer. He chuckles under his breath before shifting his attention back to me. "No matter." He drawls, his grip on my waist firming. "You're just in time for the show."

I barely register his words before his fingers dig into my chin, forcing me to face him. The sheer force makes my jaw ache, and I open my mouth to protest—but I never get the chance.

Something rough and warm crashes against my lips. My body locks up in horror. No.

Aiden presses in, his breath hot, suffocating. My stomach churns violently as his lips move against mine, uninvited and forceful. A sharp gasp escapes me, and before I can rip myself away, his tongue drags along my bottom lip, slow and possessive.

Disgust curdles inside me. I try to wrench myself away, but the shackles clank against the stone walls, keeping me rooted in place. Aiden takes advantage of my trapped state, pressing further. His tongue forces its way into my mouth, overwhelming, invasive, and reeking of arrogance.

I thrash, yanking against the chains, but it's useless.

Then, as if things weren't already a waking nightmare, his fingers close around my wrist, squeezing hard—too hard. Pain shoots through my arm as his grip tightens to the point of bruising.

CRACK!

I barely manage to catch myself before I hit the floor. My face is on fire—not from flustered embarrassment, but from sheer, blistering rage. The cold metal of the silver chains presses against my skin, my wrists held in place above my head by the now tangled shackles. My chest rises and falls in uneven breaths as I glare up at Aiden, my stomach rolling with revulsion. "You keep your fucking hands off of me, you frog-faced scumbag!" I shout, my anger palpable in each word.

"There's plenty more where that came from." Aiden purrs, his voice dripping with self-satisfaction. "Maybe later you can catch my meaning."

You son of a bitch." Jesse's voice is sharp as a blade, raw with fury, possessive, almost jealous.

But it's his expression that stops my breath. Pure, murderous fury.

Aiden turns back to him, his smirk unfazed, his posture relaxed—as if what just happened was nothing more than a game.

Jesse doesn't move, doesn't even blink, but I can see it—his restraint is slipping, and it's slipping fast. 

"You don't get it, do you, Jesse?" Aiden continues, eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. "I was never forcing them. You just can't stand the idea that maybe, just maybe, they don't need you as much as you need them."

Jesse's boot slams into Aiden's gut with brutal force, the sickening thud of impact reverberating through the throne room. Aiden lets out a strangled gasp as he's sent flying backward, crashing onto the throne with an unceremonious grunt.

With a frantic, desperate cry, he lobs a spawn egg into the air. The shell bursts apart in a crackling explosion of orange light. A Blaze emerges, its glowing eyes locking onto Jesse as it hovers menacingly, the heat radiating from its molten core distorting the air around it.

Jesse dodges the Blaze's first fireball, its fiery core flaring as it prepares another attack. But as it drifts toward the open doors, rain pelts against its flaming body. A hideous screech pierces the air as the creature convulses violently. Steam rises in thick plumes as its body hisses and sizzles, the downpour suffocating its flames. It lets out one last agonized wail before disintegrating into nothing but embers.

I yank at the chains around my wrists, muscles straining, but the metal refuses to give. The shackles dig into my skin, cold and unforgiving. I grit my teeth, frustration boiling over.

"Reggie! Think you can help me out?" I bark, turning toward Reginald, who still clutches the Eversource chicken to his chest.

"I wish I could, but I don't have a key!" Reggie groans, his face twisting in frustration.

"Who said we needed a key?" I retort, eyeing the weapons rack above my head. it's clear they're all ceremonial, having never been used, but they're sharp and polished to a glittering shine. With a bit of strain, I grasp the handle of a sword, yanking it off the rack. My wrists are bound too tightly, restricting my movement. I can't swing properly.

"Here, take it. Cut the chains!" I shove the sword toward Reginald.

He hesitates for only a moment before gripping the hilt with steady hands. With a swift, powerful swing, the blade collides with the chains. Clang! One shackle snaps loose, the severed chain rattling as it drops to the floor.

"Yes! It worked!" Reginald exclaims, eyes wide with surprise.

"Hurry, keep going!" I urge.

Another swing. Clang. The second chain clatters to the ground.

Then the third. Clang.

And finally—Clang.

The last chain breaks away, leaving only the heavy shackles still clamped around my wrists and ankles. I flex my fingers, rubbing at the sore skin beneath the cold iron.

Reginald grimaces as he takes in the sight of the remaining metal restraints. "The shackles are still—"

"It's fine, Reggie. I'll deal with it later." I cut him off, rolling my shoulders. Right now, there's something far more important than my discomfort.

Without another word, I storm toward the open doors, stepping into the chaos outside.

The storm is relentless, the wind howling through the ruined palace as rain hammers against the stone. The once-golden city is in chaos, thick smoke curling into the sky, mobs shrieking as they run wild through the streets.

And there, at the center of it all, is Jesse. He stands over Aiden, looming like a storm cloud ready to strike, his sword still drawn, its blade gleaming wet under the downpour.

Aiden is on his knees, his hands raised, and his once-arrogant smirk is nowhere to be found. His brown hair is matted with rain, his clothes soaked through, making him look far less like the so-called leader he so desperately wanted to be.

"Wait, wait, wait! Hang on! I surrender! We can talk about this, right?" Aiden stammers, his voice unsteady.

Jesse doesn't move. Aiden swallows thickly, his fingers trembling as he reaches into his inventory.

"Here! You want your flint and steel back? Take it! Just... don't hurt me!" He yanks the enchanted flint and steel from his inventory and throws it at Jesse's feet like a desperate peace offering.

Pathetic.

Aiden sinks lower, his hands still raised in surrender, his breath shallow and panicked. Behind Jesse, I step into view, Reginald at my side, the Eversource clutched protectively in his arms.

"You did it..." Reginald breathes, his voice barely audible over the storm. "Jesse, we need to get out of here!"

Jesse glances back at us, his jaw tight. His grip on his sword twitches.

Aiden sees the flicker of hesitation, his panic growing. "What do you wanna do with him?" Reginald snarls, glaring down at the groveling mess of a man. Jesse's gaze flicks to Aiden, then to me. He studies my face, as if searching for something—anger, mercy, maybe even satisfaction.

"Please!" Aiden's voice cracks. "This place is getting worse by the minute! You can't just leave me here! Take me with you!"

Jesse tilts his head slightly, considering. Then, with a slow exhale, he sheathes his sword and takes a step back. "Y'know what?" Jesse shrugs. "Y/N, I'll let you decide."

Aiden's face twists into something unreadable, his eyes darting toward me, the desperate plea still written across his features. Slowly, I step forward. I meet Aiden's gaze, and something dark, something vengeful, curls in my chest. A wicked grin spreads across my face.

Chapter Text

I step toward Aiden, my boots splashing against the rain-soaked stone as he gulps visibly. His breath hitches, his entire body tense as I grab his arm and yank him to his feet with a rough pull.  His fingers twitch in my grasp, clammy and trembling.

"Get the fuck up. You look stupid. You'll need to be on your own feet before the monsters you spawned eat you." I sneer, turning my back and taking a few steps away from him. 

"We're leaving him here?" Jesse asks, his tone completely void of any objection. 

"He made his bed. He can lie in it." I huff, not sparing Jesse a second glance as I move to walk past him. But Aiden seems to have other ideas.

"Don't you turn your back on me, you attention-seeking whore!" Aiden shouts, his shoulders rigid with tension. I can feel Jesse tense up, his shoulders locking up with anger. 

I pause, my steps coming to a grinding halt, a shadow falling over my eyes. But I don't turn to face him. "What?" I ask, a roaring thunderclap punctuating my question. 

"You fucking heard me. After everything, you're just going to walk away, leave me like you did when the witherstorm hit!" Aiden shouts, his fists clenched tight.

My gaze narrows, but I still don't give him the satisfaction of seeing my expression. "I was never yours to lose, Aiden. Whatever idea, whatever fantasy you have of us, that's it. A notion that will never come true. Not in this lifetime or the next. Not even in a parallel universe." I call over my shoulder. "Let's go, Jesse. We have more important matters to deal with." 

Jesse nods stiffly, the cold rain pelting his skin, and sticking his messy dark locks to his face. As Aiden's insults hang in the air, I can feel the heat of Jesse's presence beside me. His usual calm demeanor is replaced by something darker, something that tightens the air around us.

Before I can take another step, his hand slips around my waist, pulling me closer in a move that's almost too smooth to be accidental. His breath brushes my ear, warm against the chill of the storm, and his voice comes low, barely audible over the rain.

"Don’t let him get to you." Jesse murmurs, the words laced with a quiet intensity. "He's not worth your time."

I can feel the heat of his hand, the firm grip on my waist, as if he’s silently claiming me as his own.

I turn my head, meeting his gaze, and for a brief moment, it's just us—Aiden forgotten in the storm. Jesse's eyes are stormy, protective, and there’s something in them that makes my heart race. I nod, and we both turn away, leaving Aiden behind, the words still echoing in the air.

But Aiden isn't keen to leave it at that. With a primal yell of fury, Aiden lunges forward. Jesse's head snaps in his direction, already reaching for his sword, his free hand reaching for me, no doubt to push me away from the incoming conflict.

Before Jesse can even draw his sword, my fist slams into Aiden's jaw as I whirl around, sending him staggering back. His foot slips over the slick stone, arms flailing wildly as he teeters on the edge. Then, with a strangled gasp, he tumbles over, vanishing into the void.

For a long moment, silence.

I exhale slowly, shaking out my fist, the faint sting of impact throbbing in my knuckles. A cruel smirk curls on my lips as I step back. "I'm assuming he won't die, considering you're still here." I murmur, throwing a glance toward Jesse.

Jesse watches me, eyes unreadable, stormy with something unspoken. But he nods, and that's enough.

We turn, leaving the throne room behind, our boots echoing against the palace floors.

Outside, the chaos continues to unravel. Mobs snarl, their monstrous forms weaving through the crumbling city. Ghasts shriek in the distance, their haunting wails splitting the air. Civilians scream and scatter, rain drenching their panicked forms.

"Jesse! Y/N!" A familiar voice calls out over the storm, cutting through the cacophony. I snap my head toward the sound—Petra and Ivor stand a few yards away, their weapons drawn. At their feet, on their knees, are Maya and Gill, their wrists bound.

"Where's that punk Aiden?" Ivor snarls, scanning the wreckage with sharp eyes.

Jesse steps forward, shaking droplets from his hair. "We fought." He explains. "He fell over one of these waterfalls." He shoots me a knowing glance.

A thunderous shriek rips through the night, and my gaze flicks to the source. A ghast looms nearby, its glowing red eyes fixated on something above. A flash of gold catches the creature's gaze before it lets out a final wail, dissolving into a puff of smoke.

The founder stands tall, rain cascading down her regal robes as she jumps down to meet us.

"You retrieved the Eversource?" She asks, sharp green eyes flicking past us.

"Yes, ma'am." Reginald answers with a firm nod, the squirming Eversource chicken still nestled securely in his arms.

Behind us, the sound of rushing footsteps echoes through the wreckage. "Everyone stay together!" Milo's voice booms over the storm, a large group of civilians huddled behind him. Their expressions range from fear to desperation.

"Jesse, the situation is getting out of hand!" The founder steps closer, urgency thick in her voice. "We simply can't stop all these monsters and protect my people at the same time!"

Jesse glances around, eyes darting between the crumbling city and the terrified citizens. Then, his gaze locks onto the cascading waterfall a few blocks away.

"We could jump for it." He suggests, pointing toward the rushing water. "The waterfalls could take us to safety!"

Murmurs ripple through the crowd, uncertainty thick in the air. "What?! Are you crazy?!" A civilian steps forward, voice rising in panic. "The waterfalls will just take us into the void!"

Jesse shakes his head, stepping toward the ledge. "The void won't kill you!" He assures them, his voice steady despite the roaring storm. "There's land down there!"

Disbelief flickers across the civilians' faces, but Jesse doesn't wait for their approval.

"Everyone, just watch me, and follow my lead." He orders before diving straight into the waterfall without hesitation.

A collective gasp erupts from the crowd. The founder's eyes widen as she watches Jesse disappear into the rushing water. Then, her lips press into a thin line, as if steeling herself. "Jesse is telling the truth. I saw the land as well." She declares. "In fact, I will prove it to you." Without another word, she leaps into the water.

A beat of silence. Milo exhales sharply. "Well... no turning back now!" He jumps in after her.

I take a deep breath, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs. The water churns below, rushing with an almost deafening force. Then, pushing away every ounce of doubt, I throw myself forward, plunging into the freezing current.

The water envelops me instantly, the shock of the cold stealing my breath. The current yanks at my body, dragging me downward, fast. The weight of the broken chains still attached to my wrists and ankles pulls me deeper, guiding me toward the unknown.

Above me, the hesitant shouts of the remaining townspeople echo, but one by one, they begin leaping after us. Petra and Ivor give Maya and Gill a final shove into the water before following.

The pull of the current grows stronger, the sensation of falling creeping in. My stomach lurches, the ground beneath me vanishing.mThen, through the thick mist of the void, a shape begins to take form below.

Land. Jesse was right.

A lush, green landscape stretches beneath me—a grassy plain with towering trees and a shimmering lake directly below our descent. The wind roars past my ears, the sensation both exhilarating and terrifying.

The lake rises up fast. And then—impact.

I crash into the surface, the cold piercing straight through me. The water swallows me whole, my limbs thrashing as I sink. I force my arms upward, clawing my way toward the light above. My lungs burn, my body growing sluggish—

And then, warmth. I break the surface, gasping for breath. A warm breeze greets me, starkly contrasting the freezing water. Pushing myself toward the shore, my limbs tremble from the effort. But as soon as I near land, a shadow falls over me.

Jesse stands on the shoreline, his arms crossed, grinning down at me. He extends a hand. "Need a hand?"

A mischievous smirk tugs at my lips. I take my hand, tightening my grip—and pull. Jesse yelps in surprise as he loses balance, tumbling straight into the water with a loud splash. For a second, silence.

Then, Jesse resurfaces, drenched, eyes wide with playful betrayal. His glare is half-hearted at best. "Not fair." He huffs, shaking water from his hair.

I chuckle, shrugging with a mock-innocent expression. "Sorry. Couldn't help it."

Jesse narrows his eyes but, after a moment, his scowl fades into a grin. Together, we wade back onto shore, shaking off the water as the rest of the townspeople begin to make their way down, gasping in awe at their new surroundings. The world they thought never existed.

"Jesse, I cannot thank you enough. You've saved us all." The founder smiles, the relief evident in her features. The hard edge that once shaped her authority has softened, and for the first time, she looks more like a leader of the people rather than a ruler above them.

"So, what do we do now?" Reginald asks, his gaze sweeping over the new land with something close to awe.

"Well, take it slow. Everything's new. Don't try to take it all in at once." Jesse explains, his tone calm and reassuring. Reginald exhales, visibly relaxing at the advice.

The sound of wet footsteps squelching against the dirt catches my attention. I turn to see Maya and Gill stumbling onto the shore, their soaked clothes clinging to them, their expressions heavy with guilt. Their eyes dart toward Aiden, who kneels at the water's edge, still reeling from his downfall.

"Huh, wonder what happened to Aiden." Petra muses, approaching with Ivor close behind. Her smirk is sharp-edged with a sense of satisfaction.

"Hey, guards? Look what washed up next to me!" A voice calls from a short distance away.

I whip my head toward the sound—Lukas stands tall, his grin wide as he presses his sword against Aiden's back. Aiden stiffens under the blade's presence, his drenched form shivering in both cold and humiliation.

Two guards rush over, pulling Aiden up by his arms as Lukas steps back. Aiden doesn't fight them. He barely moves at all, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Lukas turns, his expression shifting the second he locks eyes with me. Relief washes over his features, and without thinking, my body moves on its own.

"Lukas! You're alive!" I sprint toward him, the weight of the chains on my wrists rattling with every step. Before I know it, my arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, holding him close. His warmth is grounding, a stark contrast to the cold storm we had just survived.

"Heh, you've gotten better at the whole 'not tackling people' thing." Lukas chuckles, his voice light, but the relief in his embrace says more than words ever could.

"Now, this is just speculation, but I'm guessing they have some regrets." Petra gestures toward Maya, Gill, and Aiden, who are now being rounded up by guards. Aiden keeps his head low, saying nothing.

"What goes around, comes around." Jesse scoffs, rolling his eyes. The sound of shackles clicking shut echoes through the clearing as the Blaze Rods are led away. But I'm not done.

"Guards! I need to talk to Aiden for a second!" I call, halting the procession. The guards exchange a glance before nodding, stepping aside to allow me access. Aiden glances up at me, hopeful, but it dies the second he sees the look in my eyes.

Without hesitation, I rear my fist back—And slam it straight into his nose.

A sickening crack fills the air, and Aiden lets out a choked yelp, staggering backward. His hands fly to his face, blood already seeping through his fingers.

"You broke my nose! Again!" He howls, voice thick with pain.

"That was for Lukas." I sneer, shaking out my knuckles. "And for personal reasons." I turn on my heel and strut away, the tension in my muscles easing just slightly. As I pass, Lukas catches my eye and flashes me a sneaky thumbs-up. I roll my eyes playfully, fighting back a smirk.

"Attention! Attention!" Reginald's gruff voice booms over the gathering crowd, bringing all eyes to him.

"Hello, everyone, please. This is your founder speaking." She begins, stepping forward. "Now that we're all safe, we need to organize. Start planning our new community."

Milo scoffs, shaking his head. "Are you listening to yourself? That's insane! We were prisoners long enough on that island in the sky! It is time for us to run free! Build whatever we please!" His voice carries, riling up murmurs from the crowd.

"Wow, those two just cannot get along." Petra mutters under her breath.

"Hey, both of you! Fighting isn't going to solve anything!" Jesse shouts, stepping between them.

"It will if I win!" Milo retorts, crossing his arms.

"Oh, of course, you'd think that way!" The founder snaps. "You don't understand, it will be night soon! And that is when the monsters come out! If we don't prepare, we'll be in danger!"

"You're just making excuses to control our behavior! Just like before! We must trust in ourselves and be able to learn from our mistakes!"

The founder exhales sharply, her frustration clear, but Jesse steps in before the argument escalates further. "I know it all seems exciting right now, but you need to make a plan. Stick together as a community. It's gonna help you survive any dangers this world throws at you."

The conviction in his voice makes the tension waver.

The founder straightens, considering Jesse's words. "Thank you for your wise words, Jesse." She finally says.

Milo exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "I'm deeply saddened to hear you speak like this, Jesse. I thought we were fighting for the same thing. But I suppose not."

"Milo, listen..." I interject. "Where we come from, it's a successful town. People are free to build whatever they want, but what keeps it standing are the rules in place. We have rules, and people follow them. However..." I glance at the founder. "The founder won't be as controlling. Right?"

She nods, and Milo visibly relaxes. After a long pause, he finally walks away.

"Well, Jesse. I suppose the era of Sky City is over." The founder says with a small smile. "Your contributions to our world will never be forgotten."

"Play nice with Milo, okay?" Jesse asks. "I know he's a little crazy, and you guys have a hard time getting along, but he really does care about the people."

The founder sighs deeply. "Yes, I'm starting to see that, and I will do my best." Her expression softens. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some crafting lessons to give people."

As she walks away, Lukas crosses his arms. "Y'know something? She was a little scary at first, but she's alright."

"Guess we should prepare for nightfall too." Petra groans. "Without another portal, we're stuck here."

"That would be the case." Jesse grins. "But luckily, you have me as your advanced scout. When I was on the ground with the founder, I found the portal!"

"And you didn't say anything?!" Ivor shouts, his face twisting in irritation.

"Yeah! I'm actually gonna have to agree with Ivor on this one!" Petra nods, crossing her arms.

I let out an exaggerated gasp. "Petra and Ivor getting along?! I think I'm dreaming. Someone pinch me!" Before I can react, a sharp jolt stings my arm.

"Ow! What was that for?!" I snap, yanking my arm away from Lukas.

"You said to pinch you!" Lukas yelps, holding his hands up in defense.

"It was rhetorical, idiot!" I scoff, rolling my eyes.

Jesse laughs. "C'mon guys, we have a portal to get to."

Before we can take another step, something stumbles in front of us. The Eversource chicken.

"Ah, there you are! So sorry about her." The founder sighs in relief, glancing down at the feathered troublemaker.

"That's alright." Jesse chuckles. "Looks like she's having fun running around."

"Yes, I think she took it pretty well when I told her she didn't need to be the Eversource anymore." The founder nods, a small smile on her face.

"You're not gonna eat her, are you?" Jesse asks, horror creeping into his tone.

The founder shakes her head. "No, of course not! After so long being the founder and the Eversource, now we can just be Isa, and her best friend, Benedict."

Jesse grins. "Thank you."

Isa then turns to me. "And something for you. Consider it an apology for not heeding your warning about Aiden." She holds up a silver key. My gaze drops to the shackles still locked around my wrists and ankles.

"Thanks. Wait—how did you—" I start, only for Isa to cut me off with a knowing smirk.

"Those chains were specially made for emergencies, and it appears you got tangled up in them." She giggles, the lightness in her voice a stark contrast to the tense events just moments ago.

I scoff in amusement, shaking my head as she turns away. "Come along, Benedict. We have a civilization to rebuild." Isa shrugs, striding off with the feathery little Eversource clucking beside her, blissfully unaware of its former importance.

I push the small key into the lock, and with a satisfying click, the metal band snaps open, clattering to the ground. One down. Repeating the process with the remaining shackles, I exhale in relief as all four heavy chains hit the dirt, finally freeing me.

Ivor, still clearly bitter, folds his arms with a grumble. "Well, there goes the Eversource. Off to cluck and peck at seeds for the rest of its valuable life." He mutters under his breath.

"Hey Jesse, you okay?" Lukas asks, his voice softer than usual.

Following Jesse's gaze, I notice his eyes have locked onto a small group of pigs rummaging through the grass nearby. His usual carefree expression dims, replaced with something distant, something heavy.

"Well, I just... saw those pigs and..." Jesse trails off. His voice is quiet, nearly drowned out by the rustling leaves and distant chatter of the villagers.

I place a hand on his shoulder, a silent reassurance. Petra steps forward, her tone unusually gentle. "He would be really happy to know you're still having adventures like this."

Jesse sighs, and then suddenly, his expression shifts—mischievous, teasing. The somber moment evaporates as he glances at me with a knowing smirk.

I immediately tense. "Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't." I warn, my voice sharp with suspicion.

Jesse grins wider. "Too late." Before I can react, his arm hooks under my knees, the world tilting as I yelp in shock.

"Jesse! What the—put me down!" I shout, struggling against his grip.

His laugh is full of unrestrained amusement as he effortlessly hoists me against his chest. "Nah, I think you're better off—"

Then, without warning—Splash.

The world plunges into icy coldness. I hit the lake with a loud splash, water rushing over my head as the shock leaves me momentarily frozen. When I break the surface, sputtering and shivering, Jesse is standing on the shore, arms crossed, grinning smugly.

He. Threw. Me. In.

Annoyance flares up inside me like a raging furnace. I glare daggers at him, my drenched hair clinging to my face. "Don't. You. Dare."

Lukas, Petra, and Ivor have their hands clamped over their mouths, their shoulders trembling as they desperately try to contain their laughter. But it's a losing battle—finally, something gives, and all three burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." I mutter darkly, dragging myself out of the water, my clothes soaked and heavy.

"Payback for earlier." Jesse grins, offering no remorse.

I roll my eyes with a huff. "Okay, fine. So I kind of deserved that. But if I get sick and die, it's your fault."

"Oh no, we can't have that happen." Jesse feigns concern, striding toward me again.

Before I can move, his arms swoop under me once more. "What the—no, no, no! Not again!" I yelp, kicking my feet in protest.

"Relax, I'm just warming you up so you don't get sick." Jesse grins smugly, pulling me close against his chest again. This time, though, there's no lake. He simply struts back toward the others, carrying me like a victorious knight who just rescued a captured princess.

"Put me down!" I protest, squirming in his grip.

"I thought you were scared of getting sick." Jesse teases, his voice laced with amusement.

"It was a joke! Now release me! Or I'll snap your neck in half!" I growl.

"Alright, alright." Jesse finally sets me down, his self-satisfied grin never faltering.

Ivor groans, rubbing his temples. "Enough fooling around! Let's go home already! I just can't wait to put this whole world behind us!" He stomps toward the portal, muttering about wasted treasure.

"Aww, is someone being grumpy?" Petra snickers, nudging him.

"No! ...A little." Ivor grumbles before sighing dramatically. "I was just hoping for a real treasure, is all. Livestock is no proper treasure! Although, I wonder what would happen if you put that tiny crown on a different chicken." Ivor muses, rubbing his chin in thought.

I shake my head playfully. "Come on, guys. Let's go home."

Jesse pulls out the enchanted flint and steel, kneeling at the base of the golden portal. With a bright flash of light, the portal hums to life, its swirling energy casting an eerie glow on our faces. We all step through, the familiar rush of portal travel swallowing us whole. Expecting to see the jungle temple greet us on the other side, I brace myself—

Only to step into something completely different. Jesse stumbles slightly, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight before us. "Wait until Axel and Olivia hear about this! They won't believe... it." His voice trails off, filled with confusion.

A long, dimly lit hallway stretches before us, the air thick with mystery. Lining the walls, countless portals stand in rows, each with a different frame—some built from obsidian, others from quartz, emerald, and even prismarine. Their swirling centers glow in shades of blue, green, red, and violet, casting eerie reflections onto the polished stone floor.

The realization dawns on all of us at once. This... isn't home.

"Not what I was expecting." Jesse mutters under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. My stomach twists uneasily as I take a cautious step forward. Portal after portal looms before us, each one leading to an unknown destination. Which one leads home?

Chapter Text

Well, this is just fantastic. We went through a portal expecting to be back in Beacontown, but instead... we’re here.

Sickly green trees twist toward the sky, their gnarled branches reaching like skeletal fingers. Overhead, two pale moons cast an eerie glow, their light barely enough to cut through the thick fog rolling over the uneven ground. The air is damp, heavy with the scent of rotting wood and stagnant water. Each step I take is met with a wet, squelching sound, the soaked grass clinging to my boots in a way that makes my skin crawl. As if things couldn’t get worse, we’re standing dead center in what appears to be an ancient, long-forgotten graveyard.

"Two moons. Definitely not our world. You owe me two iron, Lukas. Pay up." Petra smirks, nudging him with her elbow.

Lukas sighs dramatically and fishes two iron ingots from his inventory, dropping them into Petra’s waiting hand. "Would you guys quit goofing around? This is kind of a serious situation." Jesse scolds, his voice tight with frustration. His eyes scan the misty graveyard, fingers twitching over the hilt of his sword.

"Sorry." Petra shrugs, slipping the iron into her satchel without a care.

"Yeah, sorry. I was just... I'm just worried about Axel and Olivia." Lukas mutters, his usual smirk replaced with a worried frown. He leans back against a crooked gravestone, his expression troubled.

"Why? They're back home, where we need to be." I state, raising an eyebrow.

Lukas shifts uncomfortably. "Well... if they followed us back to that Old Builder temple, and went through the portal..." He trails off, and a silence falls over the group, heavy and suffocating.

"They would arrive in Sky City, only to find it overrun with monsters." Ivor finishes grimly, his face twisting into something almost resembling concern. The quiet lingers, the unsettling atmosphere making the graveyard feel even more suffocating.

"Okay, so maybe they did." Jesse finally says, trying to keep his voice light, reassuring. "But they can handle themselves, no problem. They'll find the next portal just like we did, and hopefully, we'll all be back together again soon." His optimism earns him a skeptical glance from Petra, but she doesn’t argue.

"Well, I for one vote that we are not so hasty to leave just yet." Ivor cuts in, eyeing the landscape with an eager gleam. "Who knows what sorts of treasures this new world could hold? Besides, unless the next portal is disguised as a tombstone, I don’t see it anywhere near here." He gestures dramatically to the vine-choked graves, his enthusiasm a stark contrast to the rest of us.

"You guys see... some sort of shape over there?" Jesse suddenly questions, squinting through the fog. His voice carries a note of suspicion.

I follow his gaze, my eyes straining to make out the silhouette. Through the dense mist, a faint outline emerges. A structure of some kind, small and isolated among the graves.

"Yeah, what is that?" Petra asks, shifting her grip on her sword.

"Let's find out." Jesse shrugs, stepping forward cautiously. We follow closely, the damp earth sinking beneath our boots as the mist begins to thin. The closer we get, the clearer the figure becomes—a book, resting on a quartz pillar, eerily pristine compared to the decayed surroundings.

Jesse approaches, fingers hesitating over the cover before finally picking it up. He flips it open, his eyes scanning the first few lines. "It says... 'Invitation. Read immediately, your life depends on it! Greetings, travelers—'" Before he can finish, a guttural groan cuts through the fog, low and raspy.

All at once, a horde of zombies staggers into view, their decayed bodies shifting through the mist like wraiths. Hollow eyes lock onto us, and the sickening sound of shuffling feet fills the air. "Yep, seems about right." Lukas scoffs, drawing his sword as the first zombie lunges forward.

"Keep reading, Jesse, we've got your back!" Petra shouts, slicing through an approaching zombie with ease.

I nod, gripping my sword tightly as I slash at a zombie reaching for me, the impact sending a dull vibration up my arm. The undead screeches before collapsing into a pile of rotten flesh.

"I humbly invite you to my mansion for an evening of food and festivity with your fellow adventurers." Jesse reads aloud, barely dodging a swinging zombie arm. He kicks the creature away, sending it staggering into a crumbling tombstone.

"That's...odd." Lukas grunts, slicing through a zombie of his own.

"Yeah, weird, right? Whoa!" Jesse yelps as another zombie inches too close. "Toss it here!" Petra urges, and Jesse flings the book toward her before unsheathing his sword.

"Petra! Anytime now! You can read, right?!" Ivor grunts as he wrestles with a zombie clawing at his robes. I lunge forward, plunging my sword into the creature’s back. It lets out a final groan before collapsing at Ivor’s feet. He inhales sharply, brushing himself off. "Much appreciated."

"Hang on, hang on! Gotta find Jesse's place!" Petra protests, flipping rapidly through the pages. "Ah, got it! 'Come to my home on the hill, just follow the path. Please look out for zombies. Sincerely, the host,'" Petra finishes, snapping the book shut with a sharp slap.

"Nice warning." I scoff, flicking zombie guts off my sword.

"Come on, there's the path!" Jesse points ahead, his voice urgent. Without another word, he bolts, and the rest of us follow.

The graveyard blurs around us as we sprint, weaving through the fog and dodging grasping zombie hands. The thick canopy overhead muffles the moonlight, making our surroundings feel even more enclosed. The distant howls of unseen creatures echo through the trees, sending chills up my spine. "This is the highest concentration of zombies I've ever seen in one place!" Ivor huffs, barely keeping up. His eyes dart around wildly, tracking the horde still pouring in from the shadows.

"You think this host is actually legit?" Lukas asks, his brow furrowing as he eyes the eerie surroundings. A cold breeze rustles through the sickly trees, making the fog swirl unnaturally around us.

"I don’t see why they wouldn’t be. The invitation and everything seem pretty legit!" Jesse replies, glancing over his shoulder as he adjusts his grip on his sword.

"Yeah, but it’s a little suspicious how this host knew we were coming and exactly where we’d spawn." I point out, narrowing my eyes.

Petra waves me off with a dismissive flick of her hand. "The invitation did mention other adventurers. Maybe the host knew because of them."

A strange hush settles over the group as we all come to a stop. The air feels thick, like it’s pressing in around us. Ahead, through the creeping mist, the outline of a massive structure looms in the darkness.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say... that's the place we're looking for!" Ivor states, pointing toward the towering mansion in the distance.

The place looks like something ripped straight out of a nightmare. The windows are dark voids, unblinking eyes that seem to watch us as we stand frozen in place. The towering, gothic structure stretches toward the sky, its jagged peaks clawing at the twin moons. A faint glow flickers from within, casting ominous shadows against the cracked stone walls.

"I don’t like this..." I mutter, shivering slightly despite myself.

Petra snickers. "Don't be a wimp, Y/N. I’m sure Jesse will protect you."

I shoot her a glare. "Ha ha. Very funny. I'm being serious. That place does not give off 'an evening of food and festivity' vibes."

Petra rolls her eyes. "Race you guys there!" she suddenly challenges, grinning mischievously.

Jesse smirks, instantly rising to the challenge. "I hope fighting made you work up an appetite, Petra, because you’re about to eat my dust!"

"Oh ho, big words, Jesse." Petra chuckles before taking off into a sprint.

Lukas is hot on her heels, and before I can protest, Jesse dashes after them.

After a long and dangerous sprint through the thick fog and zombie-infested terrain, we finally make it to the mansion. Up close, it’s even worse. The structure looks ancient, its stonework cracked with age, the wooden shutters creaking in the breeze as if whispering secrets to the night.

"Whoo! Nailed it!" Jesse cheers, waving his arms in victory.

"Okay, okay. You won that one, Jesse." Petra concedes, rolling her eyes.

"Let's maybe get inside before we pat ourselves on the back too much." Ivor grumbles, marching past Jesse with clear impatience.

We follow him, crouching behind an old, dried-up water fountain. The stone is cracked, vines curling around its base like creeping fingers. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decay.

"That front door is definitely a no-go." Petra mutters, eyeing the zombie horde sluggishly wandering across the porch. As if on cue, one of the creatures groans and turns, its hollow eyes locking onto us.

"Follow me!" Jesse urges, darting from our hiding spot. We don’t hesitate, weaving past the slow-moving undead. My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I glance up toward the mansion.

Something stares back. A shadowed figure in the upstairs window, its glowing yellow eyes piercing through the darkness. But that’s not what sends a chill down my spine—it’s the white pumpkin on its head.

"The heck?!" Jesse yelps, shaking his head as if to clear his vision.

"What? What’d you see?!" Petra asks, concern flickering across her face.

"I don’t know who he was... some creepy guy in the window. He had a white pumpkin for a head!" Jesse huffs, still breathless.

"You saw him too?! So it wasn’t my imagination?" I ask, my pulse racing.

"A white pumpkin?! There’s no such thing as white pumpkins!" Ivor scoffs dismissively.

"Well, clearly there is! Me and Jesse both saw it!" I argue, frustration creeping into my tone.

"Let's save the agricultural discussion for inside, okay?" Lukas interjects, ending the debate.

We push forward, but more zombies stagger into our path. The mansion’s thick stone walls prevent us from going around, and the front door is still out of the question. "Oh great! How are we supposed to get in?!" Ivor groans, glaring at the looming obstacles.

"There!" Jesse shouts, pointing toward a side window. "We should be able to break in through there!"

Without wasting time, we hack away at a few trees, gathering enough blocks to build up. The sound of zombies dragging their feet inches closer, the chorus of groans growing louder. Jesse places the final blocks, creating makeshift stairs. As soon as we’re all up, I knock the lower blocks away, ensuring nothing follows.

"Looks like some kind of kitchen in there." Jesse observes, peeking through the window.

"Then break the window and get us inside the blasted place!" Ivor huffs, clearly out of patience.

Jesse hesitates. "I hope the host doesn’t mind us breaking a window."

Petra shrugs, eyeing the sea of zombies below. "I’m sure he’ll find it in his heart to forgive us."

With a sharp crack, the glass shatters, shards scattering onto the tiled floor. One by one, we duck inside.

The kitchen is oddly warm, the glow from lit furnaces casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. The layout is surprisingly organized—rows of furnaces line one side, all burning bright. A makeshift fridge stands in the corner, and a sleek stone countertop stretches across the room.

"Wow. Some kitchen." Jesse mutters, taking in the space.

The sound of muffled arguing carries from behind a nearby door. "You know I don’t care if you took it, just give it back." A voice demands, firm but not aggressive.

"And I’m telling you for the last time, Sparklez, I don’t have it!" Another voice snaps in frustration.

The door swings open, revealing two figures stepping into the kitchen mid-argument. The first man has jet-black hair, a sharp tuxedo, and red-tinted shades perched on the bridge of his nose. He carries himself with an air of authority, though annoyance flickers across his face.

The second man, in stark contrast, has long brown hair and dark shades, a bright turquoise tank top stretched over his frame. He looks casual—too casual for someone caught up in an argument.

The second guy spots us immediately, his brows raising in mild disbelief. "Oh ha ha, very funny. Show up super late and make us all sit around wondering what the heck is going on." He snarks. He lifts a familiar book—the same one we found. "This is your house, right?"

The room tenses as everyone exchanges glances.

Something tells me... we weren’t the only ones invited to this so-called 'festivity'

"We got one of these invitations too! What the heck is going on here?!" Jesse demands, holding up the invitation.

"Darn! Sorry for the language, that wasn't about you getting an invitation." the man in the tuxedo mutters, adjusting his red-tinted shades. "Just that I was hoping you could explain things... This is TorqueDawg. And I'm CaptainSparklez. But, maybe you knew that already."

"Those are... your names? Like, your real names?" Jesse asks, voicing my exact thoughts.

"Uh... yes?" Sparklez responds, uncertain.

"Huh. Weird." Jesse mutters before shaking it off. "Anyway, I'm Jesse. That's Petra, Lukas, Ivor, and Y/N." He motions toward each of us. I simply raise a hand in a lazy wave.

TorqueDawg scoffs, stepping closer. "Jesse? That’s a girl’s name."

I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to stop a laugh from slipping out. TorqueDawg eyes us all with blatant disapproval. "Who even are you guys anyway? Some kind of loser patrol?"

That does it. A chuckle escapes before I can stop it. This guy is too much.

"You’d know all about loser patrols, wouldn’t you, loser?" Jesse snaps back, his voice sharp.

"Oh! Are you trying to be funny right now?! Is that what's going on?!" TorqueDawg fires back, his posture stiffening. "What do you got, like, twelve fans?"

"Oh, is that how high you can count?" I smirk, folding my arms. "Think a little higher. If you can."

TorqueDawg’s glare locks onto me, his nostrils flaring. I can practically see the vein on his temple bulging. "Why you little—"

"TorqueDawg! Cool it!" Sparklez interjects, stepping between us. "That sea of zombies has us all trapped! We just need to try and get along."

TorqueDawg lets out a sharp huff, crossing his arms. "Tch. Whatever."

Jesse ignores him and turns to Sparklez. "Wait, how many more people are in this place?"

"Counting us? Seven." Sparklez glances toward the door, his brows pinched in thought.

"Mhm, most of them useless." TorqueDawg mutters.

"Oh! Like you!" I quip, grinning when his eye twitches in anger.

"Why, you little—" He steps forward, fists clenching.

I remain still as he looms over me, his face inches from mine. His jaw tightens, his cheeks darkening with fury. At the last second, he raises a fist. I catch his wrist before it can get anywhere near me, twisting it down with force. TorqueDawg yelps, trying to pull away, but I don’t let go.

"Y/N! Knock it off!" Jesse says, placing a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Fine." I mutter, releasing TorqueDawg’s arm.

TorqueDawg stumbles back, cradling his wrist. His face contorts with irritation before he mutters under his breath, "That’s right, muzzle your dog."

My blood runs hot. "That’s it!" I lunge.

Before I can reach him, Jesse hooks his arms around my ribs, yanking me back. My feet barely touch the floor as I struggle against his grip.

"Stop it, fighting won’t get us anywhere!" Lukas urges.

I force a deep breath through my nose and finally stop squirming. "Fine, fine. I’ll stop."

Jesse hesitates, then loosens his hold, setting me back on my feet. His muscles are still tense, like he’s ready to intervene again if I so much as twitch toward TorqueDawg.

"Whatever." TorqueDawg sneers. "Just keep that freak away from me. I tell you what, the minute all them weird zombies are gone, TorqueDawg is outta here!" He shoves past Sparklez, rubbing his wrist.

"Okay, so the sea of zombies isn’t normal. That’s good to hear." Jesse mutters.

"But the two moons are normal, right?" Petra asks, peering out the window.

"Um... the moons..." Sparklez chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"Why don’t you know about this stuff? Are you from, like... out of town or something?" TorqueDawg sneers, his patience thinning.

Before anyone can answer, the lights cut out. The room plunges into absolute darkness.

A yelp rips from my throat as the sharp clank of shifting machinery echoes around us. Then—something touches my hand. Instinct kicks in, and I tense, ready to throw a punch—until I realize it’s warm. Human.

Jesse.

Apparently, he had the same idea. His fingers squeeze mine for the briefest moment, as if making sure I’m still there. I glance toward him, but the darkness is suffocating. Finally, the lights flicker back on.

The first thing I see is Jesse looking at our intertwined hands, a startled expression on his face. My gaze follows his, lingering on our fingers before I quickly pull away. He does the same. A sharp gasp yanks our attention forward.

TorqueDawg stands motionless, his chest heaving. Dozens of arrows are embedded in his body. The green shimmer of poison bubbles around him.

A slow, shallow breath rattles from his throat. He sways. "Hey, Jesse... C’mere." TorqueDawg wheezes, his voice weak.

Jesse hesitates before stepping forward, kneeling beside him.

TorqueDawg’s lips twitch. "...You got a... a girl’s name..."

Then, in a final burst of green particles, his body vanishes, leaving behind only a pile of items. His inventory.

"TorqueDawg? TorqueDawg?!" Sparklez stammers, dropping to his knees.

Jesse stares at the pile in stunned silence. "Poor guy."

"All those arrows... and his inventory everywhere! How did that—who—" Sparklez paces frantically, raking a hand through his hair. "One minute he’s alive, and the next... poof!"

"Sparklez, I know you’re freaking out right now, but you’ve got to pull yourself together!" Jesse grabs his shoulders, giving him a firm shake.

"Okay, okay. You're right." Sparklez inhales sharply, then exhales in a slow, controlled breath, visibly trying to calm himself.

Jesse scans the room, his eyes narrowing. "Everyone stand back. Let me see what I can figure out." His voice is firm, and we all instinctively take a step back.

A sudden mechanical whirr fills the silence, followed by a sharp clank. The floor beneath TorqueDawg's inventory shifts, the wood panels separating like the jaws of some unseen beast. The items plummet into the void below, vanishing before anyone can react. A hollow thud echoes from beneath the trapdoor, then silence.

"That's the trapdoor that took TorqueDawg's stuff!" Jesse exclaims, pointing up toward the ceiling. "Looks like it's a match set with that arrow dispenser up there."

We all glance at the dispenser mounted above, its presence even more menacing now that we know what it’s capable of.

"But... you saw his stuff." Petra points out, crossing her arms. "He didn’t really have anything worth stealing."

"Perhaps it was simply to dispose of the evidence." Ivor muses, stroking his chin.

"Nope. No way." I shake my head, scanning the scene again. "One, there were witnesses. Two, the arrows are still visible. Three, the lights went out—why? If the goal was a clean kill, why bother with a blackout? The whole thing was rigged for more than one person."

Petra shifts uncomfortably. "You have a point..."

Jesse crouches, inspecting the floor. Then his gaze catches on something else, and he lifts an arrow carefully between his fingers. "Guys, found something strange about this arrow." He twirls it slightly in the dim glowstone light. "Here, Ivor, Y/N—you guys know potions and enchantments and weird stuff like that. What do you make of it?"

I glance at it but shrug. "I told you, it was my dad who knew potions and all that crap. He wasn’t exactly fond of sharing his research."

"Right. Sorry." Jesse mutters awkwardly.

Ivor, however, takes the arrow, holding it close to his nose. He inhales deeply before pulling back, his face twisting in recognition. "Hmm... smells like... yes... potion of poison." He states, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh! Is it a tipped arrow?" Sparklez asks, his voice slightly higher than before. "I've heard of those. They're still pretty new."

Jesse’s expression darkens. "You say you know about these 'tipped arrows'? Anything else you're not telling us?" His tone is carefully measured, but suspicion lingers beneath his words.

Sparklez's head jerks back, his hands going up in defense. "Wha—You’re not implying what I think you’re implying, are you? Because I have nothing to do with this! Nothing!"

"Could've sworn I saw someone do a tutorial on how to make those, not too long ago." Sparklez mutters, rubbing his temples. "But my nerves are too shot to remember who right now."

Jesse folds his arms, still unconvinced. "You don’t believe him, do you?" I ask, my gaze flicking toward Sparklez.

Jesse tilts his head. "Remains to be seen."

I roll my shoulders before stepping toward Sparklez. He stiffens immediately. "Wha—what are you doing?!" he yelps as I grab his collar and yank him forward, his red shades nearly slipping off his nose. His breath catches as his frantic gaze meets mine.

After a long moment, I release him and step back. "Nope. He’s telling the truth. Not our killer."

Petra looks between us, bewildered. "Wait, what? How can you tell?"

I shrug. "I’ve dealt with a murderer before. I know the look. He doesn’t have it. He’s just an innocent bystander."

Sparklez blinks rapidly. "Okay... wow. That was... terrifying."

Before anyone can respond, a voice calls from the hallway. "Hello? Is everything okay in here?"

The door swings open, and a woman with long pink hair steps inside, her eyes flicking between us warily. "Whoa. What's with the crowd?"

"I uh... I was just about to get everyone together to tell them at once." Sparklez mutters, rubbing the back of his neck before brushing past her and out the door.

The pink-haired woman barely acknowledges his exit before her gaze snaps onto Jesse. Her eyes widen in shock. "Hang on a minute, it's you! I recognize you!"

Jesse looks just as confused as the rest of us. "It's a long story, but that's actually not possible. There's no way we could've met before."

"I'll show you." She shrugs, motioning for us to follow. We exchange glances but comply, trailing her down a dimly lit hallway. The glowstone lining the walls flickers slightly, casting long, distorted shadows that dance across the aged wooden floors. A red-haired girl stands near the end of the hall, studying the wall in silence. A calico cat curls at her feet, its tail twitching idly.

"Lizzie, hi!" The red-haired girl greets her. "Did you see all these new—oh! You brought them with you."

So, pink hair is Lizzie. Stepping further into the hall, it opens up into a spacious lounging area. Portraits decorate the walls, each frame lined neatly in a row. My breath catches as I realize what I’m looking at.

They're portraits of us. A shiver crawls down my spine.

The images are eerily accurate—every detail, every expression. It’s as if someone captured a moment in time with perfect precision. Lizzie gestures toward them. "At first, it was portraits of people already here, and then poof."

I stare at mine. It’s me, leaning casually on a diamond sword, a smirk playing on my lips. The artist captured even the smallest details—the tilt of my head, the way my fingers rest against the hilt. It’s... unsettling.

"That's... unexpected." Jesse murmurs, eyes darting across the wall.

"Yeah, no kidding." Petra mutters.

"They're absolutely exquisite! Perfect!" Ivor gushes, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Well... not perfect." Lukas mutters. His eyes linger on his own portrait.

I look over and barely stifle a laugh. His nose is absurdly exaggerated, far too big for his face. "Hey... it’s not that bad." I manage, trying to contain my amusement.

"This is so ridiculously creepy." Jesse mutters, shifting uncomfortably.

"Right?" The red-haired girl finally speaks, arms folded. "At first, I was like, 'oh, cool. Fanart. Flattering.' But the more I thought about it, creepy is definitely right."

"Well, that’s definitely not a good sign." Jesse points out. I follow his gaze, and my stomach sinks. TorqueDawg’s portrait has a giant red X slashed across it.

I tense, my breath catching in my throat. "I told you I didn’t like this." I hiss.

Jesse scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah... starting to see your point."

Before we can dwell on it further, Sparklez calls from the next room. "C'mon everyone, let's huddle up in the dining room."

The door opens, and more figures enter. A guy with a mop of brown hair in an orange hoodie. A tall girl with long dark hair in a striped shirt and sharp eyes. A purple-haired guy with thick blue goggles perched on his forehead.

"Can't wait to hear the big news!" Goggles exclaims, a grin on his face. "Me either!" Stripes nods. Sparklez brushes past us, and we all follow him.

Chapter Text

Stepping into another room, the atmosphere shifts. The space is grand yet unsettling, a long dining table stretching across the center of the room, its dark oak surface polished to a pristine shine. A crackling fireplace at the far end casts flickering shadows along the walls, making the glowstone chandeliers above seem dim in comparison. The faint scent of roasted meat lingers in the air, but there's an undeniable tension sitting heavy over the gathering.

Sparklez gestures to the people seated around the table. "Here, let me introduce you all properly. You've already met Cassie Rose and LDShadowLady. This is Stacyplays, Stampycat, and that's Dan, The Diamond Minecart."

My gaze flicks toward Dan, taking in his thick blue goggles and the streak of vibrant blue in his hair. Something's off. Petra seems to notice it too, because she cocks her head slightly. "Wait—when did your hair change color?" she asks, glancing between him and the group.

Dan blinks at her, then laughs awkwardly. "Ah, yeah. Funny thing. It was purple earlier, wasn't it? Happens sometimes." He mutters, running a hand through his hair as if that explains everything.

Before Petra can press further, Sparklez continues, his tone heavy. "It's funny, before you guys showed up, we all knew each other here." He gestures toward us. "These are Jesse, Petra, Lukas, Ivor, and Y/N."

A beat of silence stretches uncomfortably. "You said there was news?" Dan asks, shifting in his chair. "Is it good news?"

Sparklez hesitates before shaking his head. "Ah... yeah... it's bad news, I'm afraid." His voice lowers slightly, and his eyes dart to the others. "TorqueDawg... is dead."

The reaction is immediate. A chorus of gasps erupts around the table. Stacy's mouth falls open, her brows furrowing deeply. "But—TorqueDawg was tough. I thought nothing could take him down! What happened?" Her voice is edged with disbelief.

"Easy, easy, everyone. We're looking into it, and we're gonna figure it out." Jesse reassures, though the weight of every gaze now fixates on him.

"And I'm just supposed to trust you?" Stacy asks, arms crossing tightly over her chest.

I scoff, leaning against the edge of the table. "She's got a point." Jesse sends me a pointed look, but I just shrug.

"Stacy, hey!" Sparklez cuts in quickly. "They were there when TorqueDawg died, too. They can help!"

Dan sighs, dragging a hand down his face before sinking back into his chair. "I can't believe TorqueDawg's gone. Just like that."

The momentary grief is shattered by Stacy's next question. "So... what happened to his stuff?" she asks bluntly, tilting her head.

The tension in the room thickens. "Whoa! How can you say that?!" Cassie shrieks, glaring at her.

"What? It's a valid question." Stacy replies, unbothered by the backlash.

"Hey! Both of you, enough!" My voice comes out sharper than expected, cutting through the noise. The room falls into an uneasy silence.

"Wow, that's a pretty cold question, don't you think?" Jesse says, giving Stacy a hard look.

"Well... let's just say you didn't know TorqueDawg like we did." She retorts smoothly, deflecting with ease.

Lukas furrows his brows, his hands sliding into his pockets. "I'm looking at this situation, and I'm trying to figure something out. Is this just about TorqueDawg, or is there a bigger picture?"

"Yeah, why have our portraits?" Petra chimes in, nodding toward Lukas.

Lizzie exhales sharply, arms crossed. "I don't know, guys. Knowing TorqueDawg, I think this might just be about him."

I shake my head. "If this was about him, why invite all of us?" She hesitates, biting the inside of her cheek.

Jesse steps forward, studying Lizzie closely. "What? You think he deserved it, Lizzie?"

Lizzie sighs. "Well, that sounds pretty harsh, but uh... I dunno. Maybe?"

The room stiffens. Stacy and Stampy share a brief glance. "Well, someone brought us here for a reason." Lizzie says finally. "Including TorqueDawg."

"What if we're all in danger?!" Dan yelps, eyes widening as realization dawns on him.

"You may be right." Jesse mutters under his breath.

"Oh, all of this danger talk has my stomach all queasy." Stampy groans, pressing a hand to his stomach as if that might settle it.

"Stampy, come over here! I need to talk to you about something." Stacy says, tugging him toward the far side of the room.

"Lizzie, psst." Dan waves her over, lowering his voice as she approaches.

Ivor, ever observant, strokes his chin. "The more I think about it, the more I believe there's something these people really don't want us to know."

Jesse nods, his expression firm. "I say we talk to everyone and gain their trust."

Petra scoffs. "Yeah, good luck with that."

Lukas exhales, adjusting his jacket. "Let's get investigating, then."

I nod, already scanning the room. There's something here—something we're missing.

Timeskip...

The pieces of the puzzle are starting to come together. From what we've gathered, TorqueDawg was a notorious thief who had stolen from Lizzie's house and was bragging about a "rare item" before he died. But when Jesse checked his inventory, there was nothing out of the ordinary—no so-called treasure. Just standard loot. Something's not adding up.

"It still feels like there's a piece missing. No one will tell me what this rare item is." Jesse mutters, frustration lacing his tone.

Sparklez hesitates before stepping forward, his expression unreadable. "I uh... think I can shed some light on that situation."

Jesse's eyes narrow slightly. "Why is everyone so secretive about this thing? What's the big deal?"

Sparklez exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, listen. There's a temple. Way out in the middle of nowhere. No one knows who built it, but it's been there for ages. People have been trying to track it down for years, all because of one thing—the treasure inside. Supposedly, deep in the temple's basement, there's an object that looks like an ordinary flint and steel, but it's actually incredibly rare. It has a special enchantment—"

Jesse cuts him off, his mind racing. "It can open portals to other worlds?"

Sparklez blinks, clearly caught off guard. "Exactly. Wait, what? You know about the enchanted flint and steel?" His voice sharpens with suspicion, his gaze flicking between us.

A heavy realization slams into me. We have that enchanted flint and steel.

"Hey, I'm just a really good guesser. I was just putting pieces together." Jesse says with a forced shrug, but Sparklez doesn't look convinced.

I nudge Jesse harshly before he can say anything else. "No, wait, you did hear about it from me, remember? My dad had access to one of them."

Jesse catches on quickly. "Oh yeah, right. You said your dad had one, kept it as a trophy."

Sparklez's brows shoot up. "Wait, your dad had one? Do you know where it is?"

I shake my head. "No. He got rid of it a long time ago, and he wouldn't tell me where he put it."

Sparklez sighs, rubbing his chin. "Ah, no matter. I think I'm starting to figure out why we're all here."

With that, he turns on his heel, making his way to the head of the table. He clears his throat loudly, drawing everyone's attention. The room falls silent as he takes a seat. "Whoever killed TorqueDawg, whoever invited us here, they're after the enchanted flint and steel—"

Before he can finish, the chair beneath him jerks violently backward. Sparklez barely has time to yelp before he's sent flying, crashing into a trapdoor that opens beneath him. Sand floods down from the ceiling like a collapsing hourglass, swallowing him whole.

The room erupts into chaos. The lights flicker violently, plunging us into complete darkness.

"Panic! Panic! Panic!" Stampy screeches somewhere in the chaos.

"Everyone freeze! There could be more traps!" Jesse shouts over the frantic voices.

The glowstone chandeliers above us stutter back to life, but instead of their usual warm light, the room is bathed in an eerie blue glow. A chill runs down my spine.

A distorted, mechanical voice crackles to life. "Greetings, adventurers. I am the White Pumpkin!"

My blood runs cold as I whip around to locate the source. It's a portrait—the same figure Jesse and I saw in the window when we first arrived. A black jumpsuit. A white pumpkin for a head. A diamond axe clutched in their hands.

A pile of inventory bursts from the sand pit where Sparklez had been sitting only moments ago. "One of you has the treasure I desire, and I will not rest until it is mine!"

The voice distorts again, pausing for a moment. The flickering blue light intensifies.

"Even if I have to resort..." The lights cut out entirely. A shiver of unease crawls up my spine. I instinctively reach for my sword, gripping the hilt tightly.

The glowstone suddenly flares back on. The portrait is gone. In its place, a figure now stands. "...To murder!"

A collective gasp echoes through the room. The lights flicker again. And just like that, the figure disappears, leaving nothing but the original portrait hanging where it had been.

The room plunges into stunned silence. Then—

"They killed Sparklez! They killed Sparklez!" Dan yelps, stumbling backward.

Stampy shrieks, his movements erratic as he bolts around the table, yelling incoherent gibberish.

"Who was that guy?!" Cassie cries, her wide eyes darting around the room.

"There's no such thing as white pumpkins!" Dan shouts, clutching his head as if trying to make sense of what just happened.

"Tell that to the white pumpkins hanging all over the place!" Stampy argues, still running in circles.

I roll my eyes and grab his arm, forcing him to a halt before he hyperventilates. "Breathe. Just take a deep breath and pull yourself together." I hiss through gritted teeth, shaking his shoulders firmly. Stampy stiffens but obeys, sucking in shaky gulps of air. His face is still ghostly pale.

Jesse steps forward. "Me and Y/N actually saw him in the window when we first got here." His words only make the panic worse.

"You mean... he's been here the whole time?!" Cassie's voice trembles. Her panic is short-lived—because the next second, she bolts.

"I'm so getting out of here!" She shrieks, making a break for the door.

"Cassie, wait—!" Jesse reaches for her, but she's already gone. The room erupts into a frenzy once more, voices overlapping, fear thick in the air.

The White Pumpkin isn't just watching.

They're hunting.

A piercing scream echoes through the hall, sending a jolt through my body. Cassie. Without thinking, we take off running, the heavy thuds of our footsteps pounding against the wooden floor as we chase after her. The hallway is dim, shadows stretching unnaturally across the walls as we rush past, rounding a corner just in time to see Cassie standing frozen in front of a set of iron doors, her face pale and rigid with fear.

The doors are wide open, revealing the sea of hungry zombies beyond them. Winslow, Cassie's calico cat, hisses violently, his ears flattened against his skull as his fur bristles.

"Shut the door, shut the door!" Jesse shouts, his urgency cutting through the tension like a knife.

Without hesitation, I lunge forward and grab Cassie by the arm, yanking her away from the doorway as Jesse slams the doors shut with a loud, echoing clang. Cassie stumbles but doesn't resist, her arms curling protectively around Winslow's trembling body. She remains motionless, her breathing shallow and erratic, staring blankly at the now-sealed doors.

Finally, after a long moment, she blinks and shifts slightly, her grip on Winslow tightening as she clutches him to her chest. "So we're stuck in here. And if we're stuck in here, we're all doomed!" Cassie exclaims, her voice cracking under the weight of her panic.

"Hey, just breathe for a minute, alright?" I say, keeping my voice calm despite the growing unease clawing at my stomach. The rest of the group arrives moments later, their faces a mixture of confusion and concern.

Once the initial panic dies down, we make our way back into the lounging area. The fire in the fireplace crackles weakly, barely pushing back the chill that's settled into the room. The heavy silence is suffocating, the weight of the situation pressing down on all of us.

"I thought I heard Sparklez say something about a flint and steel." Stacy murmurs, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Oh, please don't bring that up again." Stampy pleads, still pacing the room with jittery movements. "Well, TorqueDawg obviously didn't steal it." Lizzie states, her voice flat and unreadable.

"Okay, but... who then?" Dan asks, his gaze flickering nervously across the room.

"Uh... Jesse?" Lukas mutters hesitantly, pointing toward the wall.

I follow his line of sight, and my stomach drops. Another portrait. Another red X slashed across it. But this time, it's not TorqueDawg. It's Sparklez.

"Well, I guess I'm next then." Ivor says stiffly, his voice laced with forced humor.

"Hell no, not gonna happen." I growl, stepping closer to him, my hand resting protectively on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Ivor. I'll protect you." Jesse assures him with a confident nod.

Ivor sighs, his usually dramatic demeanor faltering under the genuine weight of the situation. "I appreciate that, Jesse. I just hope that this 'White Pumpkin' isn't beyond both of our abilities."

Jesse doesn't reply right away. The tension in the room thickens, the flickering light of the fireplace casting long, twisting shadows across the walls.

"Well, I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation for how the White Pumpkin is doing all this." Lukas speaks up, arms folded as he paces in thought. "I mean... the whole place has to be rigged with traps, right? TorqueDawg, trap. Sparklez, trap."

"Yeah, we need to figure out what makes these traps tick." Jesse says, a determined glint sparking in his eyes.

"Alright, I'm gonna go investigate that dining area." Jesse declares, already turning toward the hallway.

"Cool, I'll keep these guys in the hall for now so I can keep an eye on them." Petra agrees, glancing back at the group of uneasy guests.

"What an excellent idea! Don't want them messing up the crime scene." Ivor scoffs dramatically, but there's an edge to his voice.

Jesse suddenly glances at me. "Hey, Y/N, wanna come with us? You've dealt with killers before. We could use your help."

I meet his gaze, nodding once. "Sure. Why not?"

With that, Jesse, Lukas, and I march back into the dining area. The room is just as we left it, eerily silent except for the soft crackling of the fire in the corner. The chairs remain scattered, a few of them knocked over from the panic earlier. The sand pit where Sparklez had been swallowed up sits undisturbed, a grim reminder of what had happened just moments ago.

Jesse moves first, carefully scanning the room while I run my fingers along the walls, looking for anything out of place. My hand brushes against something odd—a slight indentation behind one of the portraits. Before I can examine it closer, a sharp crack fills the air. I whirl around just in time to see Jesse stumble back slightly, the White Pumpkin's portrait now shattered at his feet.

Behind it—an armor stand. A black jumpsuit. A carved white pumpkin.

"It's just an armor stand!" Jesse exclaims, his voice tight with realization.

"Wow... the White Pumpkin must have some amazing Redstone to rig up something like this." Lukas whistles, his eyes scanning the hidden mechanism in fascination.

I step forward, my stomach twisting. "That is creepy... and effective. Gave us all a fright earlier."

We continue searching, but most of the room seems... normal. Then I see it. A button. It's barely visible, nestled into the wooden paneling hidden beneath the top of the table. My fingers hover over it before I call Jesse over. "Hey, Jesse, over here."

He kneels beside me, peering at the tiny mechanism. "You find something?"

"Yeah. A button." I point to it, my eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm gonna push it. Stand back."

Jesse doesn't argue. He takes a few steps back, giving me space. I press the button. A soft hum vibrates through the air as the machine whirs to life. The chair at the head of the table tilts backward sharply, sending an invisible occupant into the trap. Sand cascades from the ceiling, filling the pit below.

"Just like before!" Lukas exclaims, his eyes widening. Then the room darkens as the jukebox crackles to life.

"Greetings, adventurers, I am the White Pumpkin! One of you has the treasure I desire! And I will not stop until it is mine!" The same voice. The same eerie message. "Even if I have to resort... to murder!"

The lights cut out completely. My pulse jumps as the door slams open. "Jesse!" Petra's voice cuts through the darkness, frantic. I reach for my sword instinctively, whirling toward the doorway as figures pile into the room.

"He's back! The White Pumpkin's back!" Stampy screeches, his face drained of color. The others stumble in behind him, all wide-eyed and panicked.

"Don't worry, everyone, it's just a dummy. A White Pumpkin costume on an armor stand." Jesse explains, and Petra visibly relaxes, her grip on her sword loosening.

"Wait, what? Why?" Dan asks, glancing between Jesse and the eerie figure.

"The trap that killed Sparklez, the whole show with the White Pumpkin... it was all triggered by a button on the table." Jesse explains, gesturing to the dining table, his voice tense with certainty.

"Well, what does that mean?" Lizzie asks, concern clear on her face, her fingers drumming anxiously against her crossed arms.

"It means the killer sat at this table and pushed the button to kill Sparklez." I answer, watching as Dan stiffens, his face suddenly drained of color. He quickly averts his gaze, but I catch the fleeting look of panic. Interesting.

"Wait, so you're saying... the White Pumpkin is one of us?!" Stampy exclaims, his voice pitching slightly as he stares around at the group in disbelief.

"That's right, Mr. Stampy. One of us is a murderer." Jesse confirms, his voice even but firm. His eyes flicker toward me, and I catch the apologetic look he sends my way.

"And... he sat right here." Ivor mutters, pointing toward the table, his voice low and filled with suspicion.

"Wait, that's not where I found the button before." I object, narrowing my eyes. Something doesn't add up.

"There's more than one?!" Jesse questions, his head snapping toward me in surprise.

"I'll see if I can find all of them." Lukas states, stepping forward. He pulls out an arrow and slams it into the wooden table to mark the first button. He repeats the process as he moves around the table, stopping when he's found them all.

"So, what now?" Petra asks, crossing her arms, and glancing between the suspects and the table.

"We need to figure out the most likely suspects and interrogate them." Jesse orders, glancing at the group, his stance rigid with authority.

"Okay, that's all of them." Lukas calls, stepping back from the table, his expression grim.

"If you could all please take the same seat you were in before. Four of your seats are marked. These are the seats that had a button to set off the trap. That means the White Pumpkin could only be Dan, Stampy, Lizzie... or Lukas." Jesse announces, pacing around the table as the tension thickens in the room.

"Wait, you're accusing us?!" Lizzie protests defensively, her face twisted in disbelief.

"Well, someone had to do it. I'm just looking at the facts here." Jesse responds, brushing off her outburst as he continues his calculated pacing.

"I don't like it, no sir. I don't like it." Stampy mutters, shaking his head as his tail flicks nervously.

"I'm taking charge now. I'm gonna get to the bottom of this! I want everyone separated. I'm gonna talk to each suspect, one by one, so I can find out who's telling the truth and who's lying. I got a whole lot of questions, and I want nice, little matching answers for each and every one of them, understand?" Jesse's voice leaves no room for argument.

"Understood." Stacy answers, looking between her friends hesitantly.

"Who do you wanna interrogate first?" Petra asks, eyeing the four suspects like she's already sizing them up.

"Lizzie. Y/N, you're with me." Jesse decides, not missing a beat.

I nod as Petra steps forward, grabbing Lizzie's arm and leading her toward a separate room. I follow Jesse, our footsteps echoing against the wooden floors as we move down the dimly lit hallway. The air feels heavier, the weight of the situation pressing down on us.

"Hey, Jesse. I gotta ask, why did you want me to come with you?" I ask, watching as he glances over his shoulder at me.

"Remember that eye trick you did with Sparklez in the kitchen? If they don't cooperate, I want you to do it again. Plus, if one of these guys really is the killer, it's dangerous to interrogate them alone." He explains, before turning back toward the path ahead.

"Gotcha." I shrug, and we walk in silence the rest of the way.

Inside a dimly lit room, Jesse paces, rubbing his chin as he waits for Lizzie. The flickering glowstone above casts shadows across his face, making the intensity in his eyes even sharper. A few moments later, the door creaks open, and Lizzie steps inside, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Petra follows behind, sharing a brief glance with Jesse before stepping out, leaving us alone with our suspect.

"Lizzie, listen. There's a lot of talk going around. I don't know what people have told you, I don't know what you believe, but I'll just admit it. I want that enchanted flint and steel as much as anyone. Probably more than any of them. I've been searching for it for years!" Lizzie confesses, plopping down into a chair with a dramatic sigh.

"Wow. Would you kill someone for it?" Jesse asks, his tone cold as his eyes narrow on her.

"Nah, I wouldn't do that. I'm starting to get really irritated with this White Pumpkin fella, though. Listen, I just wanna get out of here and get on with my day. What do you have to hear to be convinced that the White Pumpkin isn't me?" Lizzie asks, sounding almost bored with the interrogation.

"You like using Redstone? Ever make traps with the stuff?" Jesse asks, arms folded as he watches her carefully.

"I'm fine, I guess. I can make lights and doors and stuff. You wanna do advanced stuff? You gotta talk to Stampy. He was the Tri Block Champion." Lizzie sighs, rolling her eyes like she's heard the title one too many times.

"Tri Block Champion?" Jesse repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, like two or three years in a row, if I recall correctly." Lizzie answers, tapping a finger against her chin in thought.

"I'm just gonna be straight with you. Who do you think took the flint and steel?" Jesse presses, his gaze unrelenting.

"Well, it wasn't me if you're curious. If I had an enchanted flint and steel, I'd be off exploring some other world with it." Lizzie states simply, and I bite back a snort at the irony.

"But me and Dan have been competing to find that thing for years. If you're looking for a likely culprit, I'd look at that guy." Lizzie finishes, and Jesse tilts his head slightly, considering her words.

"I'll keep that in mind. Know what this is?" Jesse asks, producing one of the poison-tipped arrows from earlier.

Lizzie leans in slightly, examining the arrow with mild interest. "Tipped arrow. Kinda shoddy work though. Definitely not one of mine, if you're wondering. Some noob made that thing. Stampy asked me once how to make those. Might be one of his. Plus, I taught Stacy and Cassie how to make those a while back." She explains nonchalantly.

"Alright. Y/N, your turn." Jesse says, stepping back.

"But you said we were using that if they didn't cooperate. She's cooperating." I arch an eyebrow at Jesse, unimpressed.

"Right, I should've explained. Use it to see if she's hiding anything." Jesse clarifies, making Lizzie glance between us warily.

"Ohhh." I nod in realization, stepping closer. Lizzie tenses as I invade her space, but she doesn't move away. I keep my gaze steady, watching her body language closely. The way her shoulders lock, the way she avoids my eyes until I finally take her chin in my fingers and guide her to look at me.

Her pupils dilate slightly, her breath hitches, but there's no trace of guilt—only discomfort. "Nope. She's telling the truth." I confirm, stepping back.

"Thanks for your time, Lizzie. That's all for now." Jesse declares, motioning toward the door. Lizzie wastes no time strutting out, her expression unreadable.

A moment later, Petra steps in, shutting the door behind her.

"Well? Who's next?" She asks, cracking her knuckles.

Chapter Text

"Can you send Dan in, please?" Jesse instructs, his voice clipped with impatience. Petra gives a curt nod before stepping out, leaving Jesse and me in silence.

A few minutes later, the door creaks open again. Petra strides in, followed closely by Dan, who immediately looks on edge. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, his brows furrowed in suspicion.

"What is going on here? I don't know what she told you, but—" Dan stops mid-sentence the second his eyes meet mine. I hold my gaze steady, not blinking, letting my expression remain unreadable. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, and I catch the slight twitch of his fingers at his sides.

Jesse, silent and imposing, slowly turns on his heel to face him fully. Dan hesitates but then chases after Jesse like a guilty man trying to plead his case.

"I'm telling you, you've got the wrong guy! I would never hurt anyone! You've got to believe me!" Dan blurts out, his voice rising in pitch. His eyes dart between Jesse and me, searching desperately for sympathy, but Jesse remains unmoved.

"If anyone's the victim here, it's me! That enchanted flint and steel everyone's talking about—I found that! That's mine! At least, it was before someone stole it!" Dan exclaims, motioning wildly with his hands, his frustration evident.

"Oh, I see." Jesse replies, his tone laced with skepticism. "Someone stole your loot, and now you want revenge, huh? That about sum it up?"

Dan flinches as if Jesse had physically struck him. "Oh, no, no, no! I just want what's rightfully mine!" he protests, his voice cracking slightly.

Silence falls over the room again, thick and oppressive. Dan shifts uncomfortably under the weight of it, his hands clenching into nervous fists. "I mean... we all want it. Doesn't mean I'd kill people for it, though." He adds hurriedly, as if saying it fast enough will make it more believable.

"Uh-huh." Jesse scoffs, arching an eyebrow. His posture remains rigid, his arms crossed in doubt.

"I'm not the White Pumpkin! You've gotta believe me! What can I tell you to convince you?" Dan pleads, his body tense with desperation.

Jesse remains silent for a beat, then slowly reaches into his inventory, pulling out the poison-tipped arrow from earlier. "Know anything about this?"

Dan takes a half-step back, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh wow, uh... no. Never seen anything like that before."

"No? Tipped arrows not ringing a bell? Made using potions?" Jesse presses, narrowing his eyes.

Dan opens his mouth, hesitates, then sighs. "Have you talked to Stampy yet? He loves bows and arrows and stuff." He deadpans, attempting to deflect.

Jesse studies him for a long moment before finally tucking the arrow away. "So... how'd you rate your Redstone knowledge?"

Dan exhales sharply, shaking his head. "Me? Phew, not much. Not my scene. If you wanna know more about that stuff, you should ask Stampy. He was the Tri Block Champion."

"Yeah, three years in a row, according to Lizzie." Jesse notes, rolling his eyes as though the title has been thrown around a little too often for his liking.

"There! You see? He's the only one here who could've built such amazing traps." Dan huffs, eager to push the suspicion onto someone else.

Jesse's expression darkens slightly. "Out with it. Who stole the flint and steel?"

Dan hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek. "I—I don't like accusing people, but... my guess would be Stampy. He likes to play it off like he's not interested in it, but I know he wants it just as much as any of us do." His hands twitch slightly, a nervous tic he fails to suppress. Jesse glances at me, then nods. My turn.

"Well then, Dan. We just have a few more questions, so please... take a seat." I say, motioning to the chairs lined against the far wall.

"Uh... okay?" Dan shrugs but hesitates before sitting down, glancing between Jesse and me as if second-guessing his decision.

I step around the small table in front of him, keeping my movements slow and deliberate. His blue eyes follow me warily.

Leaning down to eye level, I let the silence stretch, watching for the telltale signs of nervousness. Dan's jaw tightens, and he looks away, fixing his stare on the wall behind me. I roll my eyes. Typical.

Without warning, I grab the collar of his shirt and yank him forward, just enough to startle him but not enough to truly hurt him. He yelps, his hands instinctively grabbing at mine in alarm. "Wha—!"

I push him back before he can finish, releasing him as I step away. He stares at me, wide-eyed, shoulders rigid.

"Well, that's interesting." I mutter, rubbing my chin as Jesse raises an eyebrow.

"What? What is it?" Jesse asks, his gaze flicking between me and Dan, clearly intrigued.

I lift a finger, signaling for patience. "I'll tell you in a minute."

Dan, still rattled, scrambles for words. "What was that?! I thought you had questions!"

"I do now." I reply smoothly, folding my arms. "You feel guilty about something. What is it?"

Dan blinks rapidly, shaking his head. "What?! How could you possibly know that?! Besides, I'm not guilty about anything! Jesse, your friend is way out of line!"

Jesse shrugs nonchalantly, clearly uninterested in saving him from the interrogation. Dan looks at me again, more desperate now.

"He won't help you. You're stuck with me for now." I say coolly, taking a slow step closer. "So, what are you hiding? What has you feeling guilty?"

"I told you, I'm not guilty about anything! I've told you everything I know!" Dan insists, but his voice wavers slightly. His hands are gripping the edges of the chair too tightly.

"Really? Your behavior says different." I snap, exhaling sharply. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shake my head. "Look, I know you're not the White Pumpkin. Killers like this don't feel remorse or guilt for their actions. But there is something you're hiding. It would make this a lot easier if you would just tell me."

Dan's jaw clenches, his eyes darting toward Jesse for reassurance, but Jesse remains silent. "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't know what you're talking about! I'm not hiding anything! Besides, how could you possibly know if I was hiding something?" Dan whines in protest.

I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. "They say the eyes are windows to the soul. And the soul... never lies. But people do."

Dan flinches at my harsh words, but I don't stop there.

"Which really won't help you right now." I continue, my voice dropping an octave. "All it's gonna do is make your situation look worse."

"For the last time, I'm not lying! Why won't you believe me?" Dan pleads, his voice edging on desperation. His fingers twitch against his lap, his knee bouncing slightly. His gaze remains stubbornly fixed on the floor, as if looking at either of us might somehow make his situation worse.

"That's it." I growl, slamming my fist into the table with a sharp crack. The sound reverberates through the small, dimly lit room. Jesse jumps slightly, startled, but Dan flinches hard, his whole body stiffening in his chair.

"Just tell me, what are you hiding?!" My voice rises, barely restrained rage bubbling to the surface. "The more you deny it, the more time we don't have slips away! People are dying, Dan! And if you know something—if you're covering for the real killer—but refuse to speak up, then their blood is on your hands!" I lean forward, my hands flat on the table, my eyes locked onto his trembling form. "So why don’t you cut the bullshit and fucking admit whatever secret you’re trying to keep?!"

The room falls into a suffocating silence. My words hang in the air, thick and heavy. Then, suddenly, Dan cracks. His breath shudders, and his shoulders tremble as he buries his face in his hands. "I'm sorry!" He wails, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt him, honest!"

His confession catches me off guard. I share a quick glance with Jesse before focusing back on Dan. "Didn’t mean to hurt who?" I press, my voice still sharp but laced with a sliver of curiosity. "Sparklez? TorqueDawg?"

Dan shakes his head violently. "I can't— It was an accident! I swear!" His hands clench into fists, gripping the fabric of his pants so tightly his knuckles turn white.

"What accident?! Who did you not mean to hurt?!" I slam my hands against the table again, making Dan jolt as though I had physically struck him.

"I—" Dan starts, but before he can finish, the door flies open with a loud bang.

Petra rushes in, sword drawn, her stance tense. Her sharp eyes flick between the three of us, assessing the situation. "Everything okay? I heard yelling and banging." She demands, her voice edged with urgency.

I push myself away from the table with a frustrated sigh, my heart still pounding in my chest. "Everything is fine. Dan, you're free to leave."

Dan's breath is still uneven, but he sniffs, straightens his shirt, and quickly regains a sliver of composure. Without another word, he turns on his heel and strides out, his movements stiff and uneasy.

Petra watches him go before glancing back at us. "Want me to send Stampy in?"

Jesse nods. "Yeah, send him in."

Petra gives a short nod and disappears through the doorway. For a while, the only sound in the room is the faint creak of wood as Jesse leans against the table, deep in thought. The air is still thick with tension from Dan’s outburst, but now, it’s mixed with uncertainty.

Minutes pass. Then, the door swings open again. Petra steps in, her expression unreadable, followed closely by Stampy. Unlike Dan, who had tried to mask his nervousness, Stampy wears his fear on his sleeve. His wide eyes dart around the room like a cornered animal, and his hands fidget uncontrollably at his sides.

"Jesse, I'm telling you, this is crazy! Absolutely crazy! Total misunderstanding!" Stampy bursts out, practically stumbling into the room.

Jesse doesn't respond. He simply points to the chair in front of us.

Stampy hesitates, swallowing hard before shuffling over and plopping down. His foot taps anxiously against the wooden floor, the soft rhythmic sound the only noise in the room for a moment.

"I don't even want that flint and steel thingy! Not as much as the others anyway." Stampy insists, his hands waving animatedly as if that would somehow convince us. His words come fast, tripping over each other in a desperate attempt to justify himself. "Did I hear someone say it has something to do with portals? I don’t have any interest in portals, no sir! Not for ol' Mr. Stampycat, thank you!"

Jesse crosses his arms over his chest, unimpressed. His expression remains unreadable as he slowly steps closer.

"I gotta say, Stampy..." Jesse murmurs, his voice deliberately slow, calculated. "You seem nervous."

Stampy stiffens in his seat, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. "Um, what? No, I’m not nervous! No, totally comfortable!" He lets out a high-pitched laugh that sounds painfully forced. "I could fall asleep right here, right now! I’m that comfortable! Honestly!" His foot taps faster against the floor, his body language betraying him at every turn.

I let out a quiet, disbelieving snort. Jesse doesn’t say anything, just stares.

Stampy squirms under the weight of the silence. His breathing quickens slightly. His eyes dart around the room, looking for an escape that doesn’t exist. Finally, the tension snaps.

"Please, just tell me what you want to know!" Stampy pleads, his voice cracking under the pressure.

"Okay, enough dancing around. Who do you think took the flint and steel?" Jesse asks, his voice sharp with impatience. His arms are crossed, fingers tapping rhythmically against his bicep as he watches Stampy with a scrutinizing glare.

Stampy shifts uncomfortably, his wide eyes darting between me and Jesse before finally settling on me, as if expecting some kind of lifeline. I simply shrug, gesturing for him to answer.

"I... I don't think it was ever actually stolen." Stampy says hesitantly. He licks his lips nervously before continuing, his voice gaining a bit of confidence. "So, Dan got it ahead of Lizzie, right? And she was pretty angry about it. I think he made up that story about it being stolen so that she'd think he didn’t have it anymore. Classic Dan move." He lets out a nervous chuckle, but it dies in his throat the moment Jesse narrows his eyes.

"What do you know about Redstone? What's your skill level with the stuff?" Jesse asks, tilting his head slightly, the question almost casual—almost.

Stampy lets out a shaky laugh. "Ah, well, you know. About average? Moderate? I don’t know how these things are graded these days." He shrugs dramatically, trying to downplay it, but I don’t miss the way his fingers twitch slightly against his knees.

"Lying really isn’t a good look on you." I scoff, leaning back against the table, arms crossed as I level him with a pointed stare.

Stampy’s eyes go wide. "Mhm, that’s funny." Jesse cuts in before Stampy can protest. His tone is smooth but laced with something dangerous. "Because I heard you know all about Redstone. Everyone says you’re the best. Something about being the ‘Tri Block Champion.’"

Stampy freezes like a deer caught in torchlight. "Okay, okay, okay. Fine, you caught me!" He practically explodes, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I do know Redstone! I’m technically even an expert! But I would never kill anyone! I swear, you have to believe me, honest!" His chair scrapes against the floor as he fidgets, nearly making it rock with his frantic movements.

Jesse remains unmoved, simply pulling out the tipped arrow and holding it up between two fingers. "Know anything about this?"

Stampy blinks at the arrow, leaning forward slightly. "Oh wow, what is that? Some sort of... magic arrow?" He tilts his head, genuine curiosity flickering across his face. "I’ve never seen anything like it, honest."

Jesse doesn’t react, just watches him carefully.

"You know who would like to see something like that though? Lizzie!" Stampy blurts out suddenly. "She’s wild about potions, brewing, and all that. She’s way better with that stuff than I am!"

"Good with potions, you say?" Jesse raises an eyebrow, finally showing a flicker of interest.

"Very good. Could probably even teach a class." Stampy says with a nervous chuckle.

Jesse nods slightly before turning to me. "Alright, we just have one last thing for you, and then you're excused."

Stampy visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping as he exhales. "Oh, lovely! What do you want to know?"

I step forward, tilting my head as I lean in slightly. Stampy blinks at me, then, to my surprise, mirrors the movement. He doesn’t look away. Instead, he leans in closer, his expression almost playful, as if we were sharing some kind of private joke. His lips pull into a small, knowing smile, and before I can even react, we’re so close that our noses are almost touching.

Something shifts in the air.

I step back, caught off guard by the unexpected moment, my thoughts scrambling to make sense of it. Stampy cocks his head slightly, an innocent expression plastered on his face. "Oh... did I get the wrong idea?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

Before I can respond, a dark voice cuts through the room like a blade.

"Yes. You did." Jesse’s tone is low, firm, and dangerously sharp. The temperature in the room seems to drop.

Stampy shrinks back instantly, his entire body tensing as if Jesse’s glare alone is enough to pin him in place. He doesn't dare look at me, instead staring at the floor like a child caught doing something he knows he shouldn't.

"Ah... my apologies." He mutters quickly, voice barely above a whisper.

Jesse rolls his eyes and exhales sharply, his grip tightening slightly on the flint and steel in his hand. "Find anything?" He grunts, not even looking at me.

I hesitate for a moment, still processing the interaction, before shaking my head. "No, not really. You're excused, Stampy."

Stampy doesn’t waste a second. He practically bolts from the room, scurrying out like a cat escaping a predator.

For a long moment, Jesse and I stand in silence. Then, I chuckle. "If you keep scowling like that, your face is gonna freeze that way."

Jesse’s posture relaxes, but only slightly. His jaw remains tight, his hands still clenched. "What? I’m not scowling." He scoffs, shifting his weight as if trying to shake off whatever storm was raging inside him.

"Oh really?" I smirk, crossing my arms. "Then what was that back there? Why’d you go all ‘dark and scary’ on Stampy?"

Jesse’s eyes flicker with something unreadable. His fingers twitch at his sides. His tongue darts out, running briefly over his bottom lip before he huffs and looks away. "No reason." He mutters.

I arch an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Sure."

Jesse exhales again, rubbing the back of his neck. "He was just acting weird, that's all."

I grin. "Weirder than you?"

Jesse groans and shoves my shoulder, but there's no real force behind it. "Shut up, Y/N."

I just laugh. Jesse pauses for a moment, before opening his mouth to speak. "Y/N, there's something I need to tell you, in case we... don't make it. I really—" Jesse starts, but the door swings open abruptly, cutting him off.

"Oh, come on! This is nuts!" Lukas protests as he’s practically shoved through the doorway by Cassie Rose. She stands in the threshold, arms crossed, her piercing green eyes flashing with impatience.

"You had a button too! Fair's fair. It’s your buddy’s turn next." Cassie snaps, her tone sharp as a blade. The way she’s looking at us—challenging, scrutinizing—sets off a small alarm in my mind. There’s something about her. Something... off. Before any of us can get a word in, she huffs and storms out, leaving the door wide open in her wake.

Lukas exhales, running a hand through his messy blond hair before glancing between Jesse and me. "Hey, Jesse. Y/N." He greets quietly, offering a small wave.

Jesse exhales through his nose, rubbing his temple with the heel of his palm. "Ah, my final suspect. Here to point more fingers and blame more people, I’m sure." He groans sarcastically.

Lukas raises an eyebrow. "I didn’t push the button, y’know."

"Yeah, we figured." Jesse replies flatly. "Thanks, though."

Silence settles over the room, thick and awkward. Lukas shifts slightly, glancing at me, then Jesse, then back at the door as if contemplating whether he should just turn and walk out.

"So... how’s it been going in here?" Lukas asks, clearly trying to cut through the tension.

Jesse sighs, dragging a hand down his face. "It’s so hard to say. The way they keep throwing each other under the minecart tracks, it’s like they’re all guilty." His voice is laced with exhaustion, like this whole mess is wearing him down more than he’s letting on.

Lukas hums, thoughtful. "Well, if there’s anyone who can untangle it, it’s you guys." He says with a lopsided grin, his attempt at encouragement coming through in his tone.

Jesse gives a small, appreciative smile. "Heh, thanks, Lukas."

I smirk, nudging Lukas playfully. "So... how’s Cassie treating you?" I tease.

Lukas exhales sharply, shaking his head with an amused scoff. "Well... she’s aggressive for someone who was shaking on the floor not even a few hours ago." He mutters, rolling his eyes. "Kind of reminds me of how you used to be."

"Hey! I wasn’t that mean!" I retort, dramatically clutching my chest as if he’d wounded me.

Lukas snickers, shooting me a knowing look. "No, you were worse."

Jesse chuckles, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I’m just glad I wasn’t on the receiving end."

The three of us laugh, the weight of the situation momentarily lifting. But even as we joke, my mind lingers on Cassie. Yeah. Something about her just doesn’t sit right.

Then, Jesse pats Lukas’s shoulder, his touch light but firm. "Alright, suspect. Time to return to the others." He orders, motioning toward the door.

Lukas exhales through his nose but doesn’t argue, following us out as we make our way back to the lounging area. The tension in the air is thick, nearly tangible, as all eyes immediately turn to Jesse.

"So, have you decided?" Stacy asks, arms crossed, her foot tapping impatiently against the wooden floor.

"Yes, who do you think the white pumpkin really is?" Stampy chimes in, shifting nervously where he stands. His fingers twitch at his sides, and I can practically feel his anxiety rolling off of him.

Jesse raises his hands in a placating gesture. "Now, hang on, hang on, everyone. First of all, I want to thank you all for answering my questions. But—"

"But?" Dan cuts in, his arms tightening over his chest, eyes narrowed.

Jesse exhales, scanning the group before shaking his head. "I actually don’t think there’s enough evidence to accuse anyone."

The reaction is instant.

"What?!" Stacy bursts out, her patience snapping like a taut string.

"Yeah, that seems surprising." Petra scoffs, her tone edged with frustration as she crosses her arms.

Jesse stands firm. "I’m sorry, but I don’t want to accuse anyone unless I’m one hundred percent sure. And I’m not."

A sharp scoff cuts through the tense air. "Wow, way to take a big stance, Jesse." Cassie mutters, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

My eyes immediately flick to her. Again. There’s something about her—the way she always has something pointed to say, the way she tries to steer the conversation. My instincts scream at me that she’s hiding something. She visibly tenses under my glare, though she quickly masks it with a feigned look of indifference.

"Well, I for one am not comfortable being surrounded by possible killers." Dan huffs, breaking the moment. "So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to barricade myself in the library for my own safety." Without waiting for permission, he shoves past Jesse, disappearing down the hallway.

"Fine, suit yourself." Lizzie mutters, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, I’m more in the 'safety in numbers' camp myself." Stampy agrees, stepping closer to the remaining group. One by one, the others trickle away, leaving only a few of us still intent on getting to the bottom of this mystery.

"Well, that was certainly some excitement." Ivor remarks dryly, arms tucked behind his back as he surveys the room.

"Yeah, no kidding." Lukas mutters, watching the departing guests with a wary expression.

Jesse sighs, running a hand through his hair. "If the white pumpkin is still roaming around, he might be trying to set up more traps. We need to figure out how these things work. Like, we know the Sparklez trap was triggered by those buttons on the table, but what about the trap that turned TorqueDawg into a pincushion?"

Petra tilts her head in thought, tapping her fingers against her bicep. "I’m not sure, but the white pumpkin didn’t trigger it until TorqueDawg was in the exact right spot. That means he must’ve been watching from somewhere."

"Like a secret location none of us would know about." I add, and Jesse nods in agreement.

"Perhaps it would be worth our while to poke around the kitchen." Ivor suggests, his grin a little too eager, as if he’s already onto something.

"You guys go on ahead." Lukas cuts in, glancing over at the remaining guests. "I’m gonna stay here and keep an eye on these other people. I don’t want them trying anything when we’re not looking."

"Thanks, Lukas." Jesse nods before turning on his heel toward the kitchen.

I linger for a second, giving Lukas a grateful nod. "Be careful." With that, I follow Jesse into the kitchen.

The moment we step inside, the atmosphere changes. The air feels thick, heavy with the scent of old wood and faint traces of something burnt. The torches along the walls flicker, casting long shadows over the counters lined with brewing stands, furnaces, and a makeshift fridge tucked into the corner.

"So, what are we looking for exactly?" Petra asks, eyeing the room with suspicion.

"There are too many loose ends flying around." Jesse says, his expression hardening with determination. "A lot of evidence that doesn’t add up. We need to find something definitive. Hard evidence."

"Got it." Petra shrugs, stepping toward the far counter.

I hesitate for a moment, then turn to Ivor, lowering my voice. "Hey, can I talk to you for a second?"

Ivor perks up, tilting his head. "Of course. Why are we whispering?"

I glance at Jesse and Petra, making sure they’re preoccupied, before leaning in slightly. "I have an idea. Do you have anything that can make objects glow?"

Ivor’s eyes glimmer with intrigue. "That’s oddly specific, but yes, I do." He reaches into the folds of his robe and pulls out a small vial filled with pulsing blue liquid, its glow faint but steady. He holds it up between two fingers, eyeing me curiously. "What, pray tell, is this ‘idea’ of yours?"

"You'll see. I can't tell you and risk it being ruined." I state, carefully tucking the small potion into my inventory. Before I can say anything else, a loud noise makes me jump. My head snaps toward the source—it’s Jesse. He just punched straight through a painting, revealing a dimly lit passage hidden behind it. Dust unsettles in the air, the musty scent of long-undisturbed space creeping out through the hole.

Jesse ducks into the gap without hesitation, vanishing into the shadows. Ivor’s eyes widen with delight as he pokes his head inside. "It's some sort of secret passageway!" he exclaims, his voice carrying an eager thrill.

"Called it!" I grin, unable to help the surge of satisfaction that runs through me.

"Okay, everyone, make sure you're nowhere near that arrow trap." Jesse warns, his hand hovering over a rusted lever jutting from the wall. I take a few careful steps back, glancing up at the ceiling.

Jesse pulls the lever. The dispenser above whirs to life, releasing a fresh volley of poison-tipped arrows. They strike the ground with muted thunks, and then—just like before—the floor opens up, swallowing the evidence whole.

"Well, looks like we know how the white pumpkin killed TorqueDawg." Ivor observes, stroking his chin as he studies the trap’s mechanisms.

"Yeah, and how he's getting around the house." Jesse nods, his gaze trailing down the darkened tunnel ahead. The passage stretches into the unknown, barely illuminated by the occasional torch flickering on the damp stone walls.

Petra crosses her arms, letting out a quiet scoff before crawling through the hole to stand beside Jesse. "I assume we're investigating the creepy passageway?" she mutters, eyeing the darkness warily.

"I think we've come too far to turn around now." Jesse replies, his tone flat, as if stating the obvious.

"After you then." Ivor gestures with mock politeness, his grin unwavering.

Rolling my eyes, I step forward and follow Jesse up the winding staircase. The air feels heavier in here, laced with the scent of old wood and lingering dust as if this passage hasn’t seen use in years—until now. Footsteps echo faintly against the stone walls as we climb higher, the creaks of old beams groaning under our weight.

"I hope Dan's okay locked up in the library." Petra murmurs, her voice laced with uncertainty. "We could've put him in even bigger danger."

"Unless Dan is the white pumpkin." Jesse replies, casting me a knowing look. "In that case, we're just keeping everyone else safe."

"Yeah, I guess..." Petra exhales, not fully convinced. "I just hope we find what we're looking for."

Almost as if on cue, we round a corner and come to an abrupt stop. Ahead, barely visible in the dim torchlight, is the backside of a large painting. The fabric is tattered at the edges, and through it, faint slits have been carved—eye holes.

"Look, a lever!" Ivor points out, excitement creeping back into his voice. His gaze flickers between the mechanism and the painting as if itching to reach out.

"Ooh, a mystery lever! I wonder what it does!" Jesse exclaims, stepping forward eagerly.

"Don't pull it!" I bark, reaching out instinctively. My fingers catch the fabric of Jesse’s sleeve, yanking both him and Ivor back before they can get too close.

"Fine, fine." Jesse huffs, holding his hands up in surrender. "See anything this lever might be connected to?"

He edges toward the painting, carefully peering through the slits. I step closer too, trying to get a better look. The realization clicks almost instantly. This isn’t just some random decoration.

Someone has been watching us.

Chapter Text

Jesse leans forward, peering through the peephole with focused intensity. "It's the library. I see Dan locked up in there." He murmurs, his eyes narrowing as he scans the scene. Suddenly, a door creaks open on the other side of the painting.

"Lizzie? What are you doing in here?" Dan's voice carries through the secret passage, startled.

"I snuck in past that blonde guy. Lukas, I think." Lizzie responds, her tone hushed but firm. "We have to talk."

Dan hesitates. "About what?" he asks, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"I know you pushed the button." Lizzie’s voice is cold, certain. The weight of her words hangs in the air.

Dan freezes. My eyebrows raise slightly—so I was right. He was hiding something. "No! That's not true!" Dan blurts, panic seeping into his voice.

"You don't have to lie to me, Dan. I know it was an accident. I know you're not the white pumpkin." Lizzie insists, her voice low.

The pieces click into place. Dan’s earlier rambling about an 'accident,' about not meaning to hurt someone—it was all about this. He pushed the button that killed Sparklez. Just blind, unfortunate curiosity.

"Thank goodness, that's such a relief!" Dan sighs, shoulders slumping. "Yeah, it was an accident. I've felt awful about it ever since."

Jesse suddenly stiffens, a jolt of alarm flashing across his face. He yanks back from the peephole, his eyes wide with urgency. "The white pumpkin! He's in there!" He hisses.

Petra reacts instantly, gripping her sword. "Then let's go kick his ass!" She growls, already moving forward. I draw my own blade, nodding in agreement.

Jesse doesn't waste a second. He turns sharply and punches through the painting, crawling through the exposed passage. Petra, Ivor, and I follow without hesitation.

"Wha—what on earth?!" Dan stammers, jumping back as we burst into the room.

Jesse doesn’t acknowledge him, instead locking his gaze onto another painting across the room. The details are off. The eyes aren’t quite right.

Wait... the eyes. They aren’t part of the painting at all. They belong to someone watching us.

"It's him." I whisper.

As if in response, something whirs to life. The back of the fireplace lurches backward with a mechanical groan, revealing a writhing horde of massive black spiders. The creatures skitter forward, their long legs clicking against the stone floor.

At the same time, the door to the library slams shut with a loud clang, iron bars sealing it off. From the other side, Lukas's muffled voice yells out. "What's going on?! The door's locked! Jesse?! Y/N?!"

"Spiders! Everywhere!" I shout, dodging as one lunges at me, its hairy legs reaching.

"Okay, I'll see if I can get in another way!" Lukas calls back, his voice laced with urgency.

Chaos erupts in the room. Dan stumbles backward, swatting at a spider as it launches toward him. Jesse whirls around, slicing through another. I drive my sword through the thorax of a third, dark ichor spraying against the stone floor.

One by one, the monsters fall. The last spider lets out a piercing screech before crumpling to the ground. I lower my sword, scanning the room. "He's... gone." Petra mutters, frustration evident in her voice.

Jesse exhales sharply, turning to Dan with a glare. "Now, time to get to the bottom of this." His voice is tight with frustration. He, Petra, and Ivor step toward Dan, their expressions a mix of anger and suspicion.

Dan flinches, stepping back. "We were watching from the walls. We need to talk." Jesse growls, his patience wearing thin.

Dan’s face drains of color. "Oh, no, no, no. You heard the part where I said it was an accident, right? I'm innocent!" he insists, backing away like a trapped animal.

"Guys, chill." I interrupt, rolling my eyes. "He's not going anywhere. The door's still locked."

Dan shoots me a grateful look, still mumbling hurried excuses under his breath.

"Oh my gosh, Dan, will you please stop talking for two minutes?" Jesse groans, rubbing his temple.

"Sorry! Sorry! I talk a lot when I'm nervous." Dan apologizes, shifting uncomfortably.

Lizzie suddenly perks up, her eyes flicking toward the damaged wall. "Wait, you came out of that portrait in the wall, right?" she asks, her expression shifting into something thoughtful.

"Yeah?" Jesse responds, slightly puzzled.

"I saw one just like that upstairs! What if... yes! Maybe the white pumpkin—" Her words are cut off as the lights snap off, plunging us into total darkness.

A sickening, wet squelch echoes through the room. Then silence. For a long, dreadful moment, no one moves.

The lights flicker back on, casting the room in an eerie glow. Lizzie slumps forward, crumpling to the ground in front of us. Her form flickers, then disintegrates into a pile of inventory.

My breath catches in my throat. Before any of us can react, a dark figure swoops down, scooping up Lizzie’s dropped items with eerie precision.

A chilling, distorted laugh fills the air. "Enjoying the party?" The white pumpkin sneers, his voice dripping with mockery. The glow of the torches casts flickering shadows over the grinning face of his carved mask.

He drops Lizzie’s inventory into a set of waiting hoppers at his feet.

Jesse, Petra, and I all draw our swords in unison, the sharp ring of metal slicing through the air. "That's my cue!" The white pumpkin giggles, his voice eerily lighthearted as he bolts for the nearest exit.

"Come on!" Jesse shouts, already sprinting after him. Just as Petra and I prepare to follow, a wall slams down between us, blocking our path.

"Jesse, you okay?!" Petra calls, her voice tight with concern.

"We have to break through!" Ivor grunts, slamming his shoulder against the solid stone. It doesn’t budge.

"Ivor, it’s obviously not working!" I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Well, how do you suggest we get out of here to go help Jesse?!" Ivor snaps, frustration clear in his voice.

"Back the way we came." I point toward the passage we entered through.

Ivor opens his mouth, then closes it. "Oh... that could work, I suppose."

"We don’t have time for this! Let’s go!" Petra urges, already bolting toward the passageway.

We don’t waste another second. We race back through the hidden corridors, Dan trailing behind, struggling to keep up. When we finally emerge into the kitchen, an urgent yell cuts through the tense silence. "That sounded like Lukas! He might be in trouble!" I exclaim, my pulse spiking.

"Then we should hurry!" Petra nods, taking off in the direction of the shout.

I follow close behind, feet pounding against the floor as we push toward the dining room. I don’t look back to see if Ivor and Dan are keeping up. We burst into the dining hall, eyes darting across the room for threats.

"What’s going on in here?!" Petra demands, her stance shifting defensively.

"No!" Ivor gasps, his expression stricken with shock.

"What are you—oh..." My words trail off as I finally take in the sight before us.

At the end of the long dining table, Jesse and Lukas stand together. In Lukas’s hands is a white pumpkin mask. "You caught the white pumpkin! Grab him, quick!" Stampy shouts, his voice shrill with urgency.

"On it!" Stacy responds, moving toward Lukas with Cassie right beside her. Something in my instincts kicks in before my mind can catch up. My feet move on their own, and I bolt ahead of the two girls.

Drawing my sword, I step between them and Lukas, the tip of my blade raised in warning. "Get out of the way, Y/N!" Cassie growls, her sharp green eyes locking onto mine. She takes another step forward.

My grip tightens. "No. Take another step, and you'll lose a foot." My voice comes out low and menacing, daring them to challenge me.

Stacy hesitates, but Cassie doesn't. "You can't defend your friend anymore!" Stacy argues, her frustration boiling over. She lunges forward, and I swing my sword—just enough for her to flinch back.

"I told you to stay away." I sneer, keeping my stance firm.

"No, no, no." Jesse interrupts, his voice cutting through the tension. "I know what’s going on here, and I won’t stand for it. One of you is still the white pumpkin, and you're just trying to pin it on Lukas."

"Bold words, Jesse." Cassie scoffs.

"Especially coming from someone with a knack for locking up innocent people." Stacy adds with a roll of her eyes.

Stampy frowns. "It’s the facts! Face it, Jesse. These horrible things only started when our group arrived! And now... Lizzie is gone too."

"I say we throw him outside and let nature take its course..." Cassie’s lips curl into a grin, her green eyes gleaming. 

My stomach twists as realization washes over me. The pieces fit too perfectly.

Cassie was one of Lizzie’s students for tipped arrows. Cassie was the one pushing to interrogate Lukas over Sparklez's murder. Cassie was the one who tried to go outside—knowing exactly what was out there—endangering all of us. And now, Cassie is the one advocating to get Lukas thrown to his death.

When we arrived, the red X on TorqueDawg’s painting was already there. And the way she’s looking at me now, unblinking, calculating... I recognize that look.

The white pumpkin isn’t a 'he' at all.

It’s Cassie. But I can’t accuse her. Not yet. Not without solid proof. If I do, I’ll only make myself her next target.

"No! You can’t throw him outside!" Jesse protests, stepping toward Lukas.

I move first, yanking Lukas behind me protectively. "Try it, and you’ll find yourself six feet under." I growl, my warning aimed directly at Cassie. Her stare hardens. A silent conversation passes between us. She knows I see through her act, and I know she won’t forget it.

"Yeah, uh... I do still have my suspicions about Lukas." Dan admits, his tone hesitant. "But Jesse did save me. And you tried to save Lizzie. I don’t feel right about chucking your friend to the zombies."

"At least someone is reasonable." Jesse sighs, casting a grateful glance at Dan.

"Yeah, unlike some people." Petra mutters, sending a pointed glare Cassie’s way.

Cassie and I still haven’t broken eye contact. We’re locked in a silent standoff, and I know this isn’t over. "Fine." Cassie finally scoffs, rolling her eyes and breaking our stare. "But we can’t just let him run free."

Lukas exhales a breath of relief. "Phew, thanks."

"Don’t go celebrating just yet. We still need to do something with you." Cassie sneers. "Can’t just let you roam around."

"What? Like lock me in a closet or something?" Lukas huffs.

"There was a closet in the main hall, with a lovely metal door. Seems like a perfect place to lock someone up." Stampy chimes in.

Lukas chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Wait... I was mostly joking."

"I guess that’s fair." Cassie says, though I can tell she’s still fuming. "But I’m keeping guard. I still don’t trust him."

Jesse steps in, his voice hard. "That’s funny, because I don’t trust you."

I instinctively move in front of Lukas again, blocking Cassie’s path. "That won’t be happening." I state firmly.

"It’s fine, Jesse. Y/N." Ivor interjects, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I'll stay with Lukas and help Cassie keep watch."

Reluctantly, I back down. My fingers tighten into fists, but I don’t argue.

"Awesome." Lukas grumbles as Cassie smirks.

"Come on Cassie." Ivor insists, motioning to her.

Cassie barely makes it three steps before I grab her wrist, my grip tight and unrelenting. She whips around, eyes flashing dangerously, but I don’t flinch.

"I want to speak to you. Alone." I announce, my voice low.

Cassie glares at me, suspicion flickering in her sharp green eyes. "Right, that’s not suspicious at all. What? You gonna kill me?" she snaps, jerking her arm in an attempt to free herself.

I yank her closer instead, leaning in just enough so that only she can hear me. "Listen well, because I’ll only say this once. I know what you are." I murmur, my tone dark and unwavering. "Now, come with me, or I’ll tell everyone. Right here, right now."

Cassie stiffens. I feel the muscles in her wrist tense under my fingers, but I don’t let go. Her breath hitches for the briefest second before she yanks herself free. She masks her hesitation with an annoyed scoff.

"Fine. When we’re done here, I’ll meet you at the closet." She mutters, glancing toward Ivor, who watches us curiously. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

I motion for Cassie to follow me, and she trails behind, her movements measured, calculating. Once we’re out of sight, I spin on my heel, only to find a diamond axe swinging straight for my head.

I barely have time to react. Instinct kicks in, and I raise my sword just in time to block the strike. The clash of metal rings through the empty hallway, reverberating off the walls. Sparks fly where our weapons meet.

"There you are, White Pumpkin." I growl.

Cassie grits her teeth, pressing against my blade. "I knew you were gonna be a thorn in my side. Smart, quick on your feet... We could’ve been friends." She sneers. "Shame I have to kill you."

Her axe glints in the dim light as she pulls back and swings again. I twist away, dodging by inches.

"Who says we can’t be?" I counter, keeping my sword steady. "I didn’t drag you back here to fight."

Cassie narrows her eyes, skepticism thick in her expression. "Yeah right. You pulled me back here to take me down. To catch the killer."

"Trust me." I say, my grip loosening slightly, lowering my stance. "If I wanted to stop you, I would’ve done it in front of everyone. I’d have had Jesse and the others on you in a heartbeat." I pause, letting my lips curl into a smirk. "But I didn’t."

Cassie hesitates for a fraction of a second, her grip on the axe tightening. "What are you getting at?"

"I’m saying I’m a fan of your work." I speak again.

She blinks, her body tensing. "Wait... what?"

"Sparklez, TorqueDawg, Lizzie... It’s brilliant. It’s refreshing to meet someone with a taste for death." The words feel unnatural in my mouth, and I silently cringe, but I keep my expression schooled. I need her to believe this.

Cassie doesn’t respond immediately. Her axe lowers slightly, but her posture remains guarded. "You expect me to believe you admire me?"

I scoff. "Do I have to spell it out for you? I’m saying we should team up. Let me help you."

Cassie studies me carefully. "And why the hell would I do that?"

"Think about it. I know Jesse and his team inside and out. They trust me." I explain, stepping closer. "Besides, my combat skills combined with your Redstone knowledge? We’d be unstoppable."

She tilts her head slightly, considering. For the first time since this conversation started, her cold mask cracks, just a little.

"You make a compelling argument." She admits. "But what’s stopping you from stabbing me in the back?"

"If I’m being honest?" I shrug. "Nothing. But why would I betray someone who finally understands the craving for death? The rush of chaos?" I let my voice drop lower, almost conspiratorial. "I’ve spent too long playing the hero. Maybe it’s time I do something... fun."

Cassie stares at me, expression unreadable. A beat of silence stretches between us. Then, finally, she speaks. "Fine. Let’s say we did team up. What could you possibly offer me?"

I smirk. "For starters? A powerful ally. Second? I know exactly what you want... and who has it."

Cassie’s pupils dilate. She straightens, her interest piqued. "You know who has the flint and steel?" She breathes, her voice sharp with intrigue.

"Keep your voice down." I hiss, glancing down the hallway. "Do you want the whole mansion to hear what we’re up to? And yes. I know exactly who has it."

Cassie grips the handle of her axe, her fingers twitching in anticipation. I can see the hunger in her eyes. She’s hooked. "Do we have a deal?" I ask, tilting my head.

Cassie places a hand on her chin, feigning deep thought. "Hmm... What do you get out of it?" She eyes me warily. "I didn’t peg you as the murderer type."

"What do I get?" I let out a low chuckle, taking a step closer. "I get an ally who understands me. I get freedom from those pathetic wannabe heroes. I get the ending I deserve."

Cassie watches me closely, and for the first time, I see a slow, wicked smile spread across her lips.

"Very well." She purrs. "It appears your goals align with mine. Together, we’ll get that flint and steel, and I’ll finally be rid of this awful world." She pauses, glancing back toward the others. "But we can’t let them know. You keep playing your part. Help Jesse with his little 'investigation' to root me out. When the time is right, we’ll strike together."

I nod, my face neutral. "Agreed."

Cassie’s smile widens. "If you ever need assistance, turn to Winslow. He can act as a discreet messenger." She reaches into her inventory, pulling out a handful of ender pearls. She presses them into my palm, her fingers lingering for a second too long.

"These might help you out of a sticky situation." She murmurs.

I glance down at the ender pearls before shoving them into my inventory. "Appreciate it."

Cassie straightens and glances toward the hallway. "We’ve been talking for too long. The others might get suspicious."

"Then you’d better go." I mutter. Cassie nods once, then turns on her heel, striding off toward the closet where Lukas is being held.

I don’t move. My fingers brush over the ender pearls in my inventory as I exhale slowly. Manipulation is a hell of a tactic, the one good useful thing I learned from my father.

I step back into the dining room, and immediately, Petra's sharp gaze locks onto me. There's a silent question in her eyes, but I brush past her without a word. No need to raise suspicion—not yet. Jesse, thankfully, is too preoccupied with another painting to notice my entrance. His fingers skim the edges, searching for something hidden beneath the canvas. Then, without hesitation, he pulls his fist back and smashes straight through it.

The sudden noise makes everyone jump. Dan stumbles backward, nearly knocking over a chair, while Stacy and Stampy whip their heads toward the sound.

"Whoa, another secret room." Jesse mutters, stepping forward.

The painting had concealed more than just an empty passageway—behind it, an entire wall is lined with item frames. A diamond axe, a tipped arrow, and a block of sand each rest within their own frame, as if on display.

Jesse steps up, studying the arrangement, then starts shifting the items around. A quiet click echoes through the space. An iron door swings open with a low creak, revealing yet another tunnel leading deeper into the mansion.

Jesse turns back to us, his face lit with excitement. "Come on." He urges, stepping through the opening. Petra strides in after him, and I follow close behind.

"Wow, you got it open!" Stampy exclaims, stepping forward alongside Stacy and Dan, but keeping a wary distance from the tunnel.

"Yeah, you guys should stay here." Petra advises, crossing her arms. "Could be dangerous."

"No, I totally wanna follow you into your friend’s creepy secret passageways!" Stacy scoffs, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I grit my teeth, already sick of her attitude. "You still think Lukas did all this?! He can barely rig up a rainbow beacon, let alone—"

"Y/N, let it go." Jesse interrupts, shooting me a warning glare.

I inhale sharply, biting back the urge to argue. "Fine." I grumble, sending one last glare toward Stacy before turning away.

"Whatever." Stacy mutters, already walking off. Stampy and Dan exchange glances before following her, their uncertainty evident.

Jesse shakes his head before motioning us forward. "Come on."

I roll my eyes but follow as we step into the dimly lit tunnel. The deeper we go, the air thickens with dust and the scent of damp stone. Then, suddenly, we stop. A dark pit stretches out before us. Bottomless, as far as the eye can see.

Jesse leans forward cautiously, peering into the abyss. "Wow, that’s deep. Guess it leads down to... whatever the White Pumpkin calls home." His eyes flick over the edges. "Wonder how he gets down there..."

"Maybe in addition to walking through walls, he can fly for all we know! Ugh!" Petra huffs, frustration clear in her voice. Jesse and I share a glance but wait for her to continue.

"I’m just... really worried about Lukas." She admits, pacing in tight circles. "Those people think they’re all safe, but the White Pumpkin is still running around, and he could strike at any minute!"

"Petra, I get you're upset, but would you stop taking it out on me and Y/N? We're all trying here." Jesse says, his tone softer but firm.

Petra exhales, visibly deflating. "Okay! Okay, okay. I’m really sorry. " She mutters, rubbing her arm sheepishly.

"Hey, it’s fine. I get it, you’re upset. We all are, but Lukas is gonna be fine." I say, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I’ve seen him pull through worse."

She nods, but I can tell she’s still worried.

"We’re gonna get through this." I continue. 

"Let’s start by figuring out how we’re getting down there, huh? You guys know the drill. What do you have in your inventory? Petra, didn’t you have all those wood blocks?" Jesse asks, hopeful.

Petra’s face flickers with guilt, and she hesitantly produces a bundle of sticks. "Sorry, I was whittling earlier. Nervous habit." She admits, giving a sheepish chuckle.

Jesse grins, scooping them up. "Luckily, those should do just the trick."

He glances toward a crafting table tucked in the corner and makes his way over.

"You thinking a ladder?" Petra asks.

"Yeah." Jesse nods.

"Gonna need a lot of them." Petra points out, eyeing the pit warily.

"Well, I have these if we run out." I say, pulling an ender pearl from my inventory and flipping it between my fingers.

Petra’s eyes narrow slightly. "Wait... You’ve had those the whole time?" she asks, suspicion creeping into her voice.

I shake my head. "No. I found them earlier."

Petra doesn’t look convinced, but Jesse shrugs it off. "Nah, I’ll stick with the ladders. Ender pearls make me nauseous."

"Yeah, same." Petra nods. "I don’t like the after-effects."

"Suit yourselves." I say, still idly tossing the pearl like a coin.

Jesse suddenly grins, turning toward Petra. "Hey, Petra. I’ll race you."

Petra smirks. "You’re on."

Both of them step up to separate crafting tables, hands hovering over the ingredients.

"Okay, on three." I announce. "One... two... three!"

They spring into action, hands moving fast as they arrange sticks into ladders. The room fills with the sound of quick crafting, the flickering glow of torches casting long shadows over the stone walls.

It’s close, but they both finish at the same time.

"Looks like a tie." I remark.

Jesse exhales and glances back at the pit. His confidence falters slightly as he eyes the deep, unending void. Swallowing hard, he places the first ladder against the stone wall.

"One down, lots more to go." He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Tell you what..." I say, twirling the ender pearl between my fingers again. "I'll head down first, see if everything's clear."

Jesse gives a small nod. "Alright. Be careful."

I step closer to the edge, the darkness yawning beneath me. With a flick of my wrist, I let the ender pearl slip from my fingers, watching as it vanishes into the abyss.

Chapter Text

Before I can react, the world twists and distorts around me. Colors blur together in streaks of violet and blue, my vision swimming as I feel my body shift, even though I haven't moved a muscle. The familiar rush of teleportation tugs at my core before the sensation abruptly stops.

Stone and dirt surround me in a narrow tunnel, its walls damp and uneven. The air is thick and musty, carrying the scent of freshly turned earth. Blinking rapidly, I take a second to regain my bearings.

"Y/N! You okay?" Jesse’s voice calls from above, slightly muffled by the tunnel walls.

"Yeah! It's all clear, you can come down!" I yell back, hoping my voice carries.

No response. Instead, I hear the faint shuffle of boots on stone, followed by the rhythmic creak of the wooden ladders. The sounds grow closer, and soon, two shadowy figures emerge in the dim tunnel light. The faint gleam of gold outlines Petra’s armor, while Jesse’s bright gear practically glows in the darkness. They both descend steadily before stepping away from the ladder, their footsteps light against the compacted dirt.

"Took you guys long enough." I scoff, crossing my arms.

"Yeah, yeah." Jesse rolls his eyes, his voice dripping with playful exasperation.

"Not to break up this little love fest." Petra interrupts, a teasing grin creeping onto her face. "But you think we're gonna find the White Pumpkin down here?"

Jesse smirks. "Why? You scared?"

Petra scoffs. "No! I'm just making sure I’m ready in case we have to fight."

Before I can chime in, an eerie chorus of groans echoes through the tunnel, sending a shiver up my spine. It’s distant at first, barely a whisper in the silence, but quickly grows into an overwhelming cacophony of guttural wails and wet, rattling breaths.

"Hey, do you guys hear—" Jesse starts, but Petra cuts him off.

"Lots and lots of zombies? Yeah. Smell them too." She wrinkles her nose in disgust.

"Ditto. Ugh." I shake my head, already reaching for my sword.

We inch forward cautiously, and soon, a set of thick iron bars comes into view. Jesse takes the lead, tiptoeing past, careful not to make a sound. Then, as if sensing us, the zombies behind the bars erupt into a frenzy, slamming their rotting hands against the metal. Their moans grow louder, their frustration palpable as they claw at the barrier separating them from fresh prey.

Jesse flinches at the noise but keeps moving. Petra and I follow, keeping our weapons at the ready. Then, we reach another iron-barred chamber—only this one is different. Beyond the writhing horde of zombies, something flickers in the dim light. A small cage, suspended just above the ground, emits intermittent bursts of orange embers, the glow reflecting off the damp stone.

Jesse tilts his head. "What is that?"

Before I can answer, a zombie materializes out of thin air next to the cage, groaning hungrily as it stumbles forward.

"It's a spawner." I explain, gripping my sword tighter. "They generate mobs endlessly unless you disable them with torches or break them completely. You can usually find them in strongholds or dungeons."

Jesse glances at me, surprise flickering across his face. 

"What? I read sometimes." I shrug. 

"Every time I think I know you..." Jesse just shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Does that mean the White Pumpkin made the sea of zombies outside?" Petra asks, eyeing the spawner warily.

"Seems like it." I mutter.

We press forward, navigating around the bars and the relentless undead behind them. Then, something ahead catches Petra’s attention.

"Hey, what's that?" she asks, pointing.

At first, I don’t see it, but as we move closer, the shape becomes clear— a massive glass tube extends toward the ceiling, glowing faintly as various items are sucked upward in a swirling current. My stomach twists at the sight. It’s almost identical to Soren’s mob grinder, the one that nearly killed us. I shudder at the distant memory.

A few items splash into the shallow pool beneath the tube, briefly bobbing before they get caught in the stream and vanish up the tunnel.

"I think this is where people’s stuff goes after those hoppers upstairs suck it up." Jesse mutters, crouching to examine the water more closely.

"You're right, I think that's Lizzie's." Petra notes as more loot drops in, then swirls away.

"So, if the loot goes from here, it might lead to Ca—" I stop myself just in time. "The White Pumpkin." I correct, feeling Jesse’s eyes on me. He doesn’t say anything, but I can tell he noticed.

Before the moment can linger, he gestures toward something else. "Hey guys, you see the light coming out of that tunnel right?" He points ahead, where a faint glow spills into the darkness.

"Yeah, and it doesn’t look blocked off like all the, uh... zombie-filled ones." Petra squints at the other tunnels, each of them shrouded in pitch black and eerily silent.

"If we can get up there, I think we can follow the loot to wherever it’s going!" Jesse says, his excitement growing.

We don’t waste time. The three of us start digging, scooping up dirt blocks to build a makeshift staircase. Jesse is the first to place his, stacking them carefully. Petra and I follow, working quickly.

Finally, we reach a height just below the tunnel’s opening.

"Okay, I think we can jump from here." Petra assesses, testing the distance with her eyes.

As if on cue, a low, inhuman hiss echoes through the cavern. My blood runs cold.

Ruby-red eyes blink into existence within the tunnel’s shadows, followed by the eerie skittering of multiple legs against cold stone.

Spider.

The massive eight-legged creature bursts into view, its pincers clicking as it lunges. Instead of attacking us directly, it lands on the dirt tower below, hissing and digging its sharp legs into the loose earth.

Jesse reacts first. He crouches, then pushes off, launching himself toward the tunnel. His boots slam onto the stone ledge, and he lands with ease, turning back toward us expectantly.

"Come on!" He calls.

I don’t hesitate. Bending my knees, I propel myself forward, mimicking Jesse’s jump. The tunnel’s entrance rushes toward me as I reach out, fingers scraping against the rough stone edge.

I land safely and turn to Petra. The spider finally reaches the top, its spindly legs clawing at the loose blocks as it climbs. Its mandibles snap dangerously close to Petra's ankles. She yelps and pushes off, trying to make the jump, but her balance falters mid-air. Her arms flail, panic flashing in her eyes as she begins to fall backward.

Jesse moves first, lunging forward and grabbing one of her wrists. I react just as fast, gripping her other arm tightly. Her weight drags down on us for a moment, our feet skidding against the stone floor, but together we heave her up onto the ledge.

Petra scrambles to her feet, breathing hard, hands braced on her knees. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she regains her balance. "That was close." I say, still catching my breath.

"Yeah... Thanks, guys." Petra straightens, brushing dust from her armor.

"No problem." Jesse shrugs.

"Same here." I nod, casting a glance back toward the dirt tower. The spider lingers for a moment, its ruby-red eyes gleaming with frustration before it skitters back down into the depths.

The three of us press forward, walking deeper into the tunnel. The silence between us is thick, filled only by the faint echo of our footsteps against the cold stone floor. Then, a new sound breaks through the quiet—soft, rhythmic, and strangely familiar.

Purring.

It starts faint, barely audible, but soon, small mewls accompany the soothing hum of content feline sounds. The noise bounces off the tunnel walls, wrapping around us like an eerie lull.

Jesse’s brow furrows. "Wait... that sounds like... cats?"

A single calico immediately comes to mind. Winslow.

Cassie’s words from earlier slither into my thoughts: "If you ever need assistance, turn to Winslow. He can act as a discreet messenger."

Jesse steps ahead cautiously, rounding a corner to peer into whatever lies beyond. The moment his head tilts past the wall, he lets out a startled yelp. Instinctively, he swings his fist at something unseen. A heavy thud follows, and the sound of an object hitting the floor makes Petra and me jump.

My sword is in my hand before I even think, and I bolt past Jesse to confront whatever he just struck down. It’s an armor stand.

The carved white pumpkin helmet rolls a few inches away from its toppled frame, the black jumpsuit slouched awkwardly against the floor. I meet Petra’s gaze, exchanging a silent understanding before we begin scanning the area.

"It’s just some sort of... growing station. Weird." Petra mutters, nudging one of the surrounding pumpkins with her boot.

The entire space is lined with uncarved pumpkins—except they aren’t the usual bright orange. Each one is pale, almost ghostly, like they’ve been drained of color. The milky hue makes the room feel even more unnatural, as if the White Pumpkin had been cultivating his own mask supply in secrecy.

Then, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes through the passage. My grip tightens around my sword, and I shift into a defensive stance as a shadowy figure rushes toward us. A flash of orange catches my eye before a startled yelp cuts through the air.

"Stampycat?!" Petra blurts out, her voice filled with disbelief.

Stampy staggers back, placing a trembling hand over his heart. "Oh, you gave me a fright! What are you doing down here?" His voice pitches with panic as he takes in the scene.

"What are we doing down here?!" Petra scoffs. "Looks like we're catching you in the act, White Pumpkin."

Jesse’s tone turns sharp, his fingers curling tightly around his sword hilt. "Yeah, kind of suspicious, don’t you think?"

Stampy’s entire body tenses at the accusation. "What?! No, no, no! That’s not me! I was just... curious!"

I exhale, already lowering my weapon. "He's not the White Pumpkin." I state bluntly.

Petra snaps her attention toward me, her brows furrowing in suspicion. "How can you possibly know that?! We caught him in the act!"

"Because if it was him, he'd be a lot less panicked right now." I glance at Stampy, who's still fidgeting, his tail practically between his legs. "Besides, the White Pumpkin wouldn’t just waltz in here unarmed."

Stampy rapidly nods in agreement. "Exactly! Thank you! See? Y/N gets it! I'm Stampycat! I'm no murderer! I just— I needed to find you because I have something important to tell you!"

His hands shake slightly as he reaches into his pocket, fumbling for something. When he pulls it out, a soft green glow pulses in his palm.

An enchanted flint and steel. I stare. My mind immediately races. This isn’t our flint and steel... which means...

Another one?

"I... stole it from Dan." Stampy confesses, his voice small. "It was supposed to be a joke! A harmless prank! But then... well, you saw what happened."

Jesse crosses his arms, his expression unimpressed. "Wow. Did not see that coming."

I keep my face neutral, though my mind is already working double time. Cassie wants the enchanted flint and steel. But she doesn't know about this second one. That gives me an advantage,  I may not have to rat Jesse out. But if I throw Stampy to the wolves, I'm no better than her.

"So, you're saying this is all your fault?" Jesse asks, irritation seeping into his voice.

Stampy flinches. "No!... I mean, I don’t know! This is exactly why I kept it a secret!" He paces, running a frantic hand through his hair. "I may be a thief, but I’m no killer! The White Pumpkin is! And he's killing people for it! And now we’re down in his lair!"

Stampy hesitates, his fingers tightening around the glowing artifact. His voice drops to a whisper. "I was thinking... maybe I should just give it to the White Pumpkin."

He turns toward the armor stand, arm outstretched, the flint and steel hovering just inches away from the empty hands of the empty costume of the White Pumpkin.

"I think you should give it back to Dan, it's only fair." Jesse suggests, his tone firm but not unkind.

"Yeah... yeah. That would be better." Stampy mutters, his voice quiet as he tucks the glowing flint and steel back into his inventory. His fingers linger over it for a moment before he exhales and lets his hand drop to his side.

A soft meow breaks the tense silence, drawing our attention. The sound echoes slightly in the dimly lit space, bouncing off the stone walls. Jesse turns toward the source, stepping forward cautiously. Petra follows, gripping the hilt of her sword out of habit.

"That looks like a lair door if I ever saw one." Petra groans, pointing toward two iron doors embedded in the wall. Their dull, metallic surface is slightly rusted at the edges, as if they’ve been undisturbed for a long time.

Jesse reaches for the lever beside it and flicks it down. With a deep, mechanical groan, the doors creak open, revealing the room beyond. Me, Petra, and Jesse immediately draw our swords, bracing ourselves for whatever might be lurking inside.

As we step through, the first thing I notice is the heavy scent of dust and old paper. Bookshelves tower over us, lining the walls and stretching up toward the ceiling, packed with ancient tomes and crumbling scrolls. Cobwebs hang in the corners like eerie decorations, swaying slightly in the draft that flows through the open door. More soft meows break the silence, and my eyes flicker toward the source.

Calico cats. There are several of them, lounging lazily across the furniture, sprawled out on the bookshelves, or curled up on top of chests and tables. Each one eerily identical to Winslow, Cassie's pet.

"Well, that explains where the meowing was coming from." Petra shrugs, lowering her sword as she eyes the small horde of felines.

"Don't worry, we'll get out of here as soon as we find something that proves the white pumpkin's identity." Jesse reassures her, though his eyes remain sharp as he scans the room.

Stampy groans under his breath, shifting nervously from foot to foot. His fingers twitch like he wants to bolt at any second. I don’t blame him. The sheer number of cats watching us—ears flicking, tails twitching—is unsettling.

I let my gaze drift over the cluttered room. Books, crafting supplies, brewing stands. Then, my eyes land on something promising. A crafting table, pushed up against the far wall, untouched and ready to be used. My mind races, and I reach into my inventory, pulling out a standard flint and steel along with the glowing potion Ivor had given me.

Moving quickly, I place the materials onto the crafting table, combining the flint and steel with lapis lazuli and the potion. A soft glow pulses from the tool, its edges shimmering faintly, mimicking the enchanted flint and steel Jesse has.

Perfect. I slip it back into my inventory just as Jesse lets out a frustrated groan. "Okay, kitty kitty. Can you move out of the way, please? I need to get in the chest."

I turn to see him attempting to nudge a calico off the lid of a chest. The cat gives him a slow, unimpressed blink before flopping back down stubbornly, draping itself over the top.

Jesse lets out a tired sigh. "No! Bad kitty! Ugh, stupid cats." He grumbles, rubbing his temple as he glares at the feline roadblock.

I can’t help but chuckle under my breath. Jesse, the fearless adventurer, outsmarted by a house cat. He steps back, muttering to himself before his eyes land on a small pool of water nearby. Without another word, he pulls out a fishing rod and casts the line in. A few moments later, he reels in a flailing fish, grinning triumphantly.

"Nice catch, Jesse." Petra nods approvingly.

"Thanks. I bet that cat will love this." Jesse says, casting a smug glance at the stubborn feline.

"Okay, here kitty. Get the fish." Jesse coaxes, wiggling the fish in front of the calico.

The cat’s ears perk up at the sight of the offering. It stretches out its limbs, then hops off the chest, strutting toward the fish with a slow, lazy gait. Jesse sets it on the floor, and the cat pounces on it, eagerly nibbling at the fresh catch.

Then, chaos erupts.

A chorus of meows fills the air as every other cat in the room suddenly leaps down from their resting spots, swarming the fish like it’s the last meal they’ll ever have. Jesse stumbles back, barely avoiding being caught in the feline frenzy.

With the chest finally unguarded, he moves quickly, stepping around the cluster of cats and flipping open the lid. He rummages inside for a few moments before pulling something out. His face hardens as he lifts it up for all of us to see.

"It's full of... portraits. Loads of them." Jesse holds up one of the pictures and places it against the wall.

It’s Petra. But there’s something wrong. A large red X is slashed across her face.

Petra stiffens at the sight. "Oh, I don't like that. Looks like the white pumpkin had all the crossed-out ones ready to go." Her voice is low, uneasy.

"Yep, we've got Dan, Stacy, Stampy, Lukas, Ivor, Y/N, and me." Jesse mutters as he sifts through the pile of portraits.

I step closer, my fingers running over the edges of my own portrait. Seeing my face marked like that sends a chill down my spine.

"What does it all mean? The cats, the crossed-out portraits..." Petra trails off, the wheels in her head turning.

Jesse stares at the portraits for a long moment before his gaze shifts to the group of cats sprawled across the room. His jaw tightens. "Yeah, the portraits... there was one person who didn't have a crossed-out portrait. Someone who's a known cat person..." His voice grows sharp, realization clicking into place.

I exhale, watching the pieces fall together. "Cassie Rose is our killer."

Petra and Stampy freeze. "She's the murderer." Jesse nods, his voice resolute.

"Oh man, you're totally right." Petra mutters, rubbing her temple as she glances around the room.

Stampy looks like he might faint. "Come on, you guys. It's time to prove Lukas's innocence and catch us a White Pumpkin." Jesse declares, his determination unwavering.

I let out a slow breath, my mind already racing through possibilities. This won’t be easy. Cassie still thinks I’m on her side. If we confront her outright, she might see it as betrayal. And if that happens, she’ll make sure I’m her next target.

Still, I push the doubt aside. I’ll deal with that when the time comes. If Cassie calls me out, I’ll tell the others everything. I’ll fess up and explain my plan.

For now, I need to play my part.

Timeskip...

Bursting into the dining hall with Petra, Stampy, and Jesse, we barely have time to catch our breath before Stacy and Dan turn to us, their faces tight with confusion.

"I'll go round everyone up!" Stampy exclaims, his voice high-pitched with nerves as he bolts out of the room. His hurried footsteps fade down the hallway.

"What’s going on?!" Stacy demands, glancing after him, her expression already on edge.

Jesse wastes no time. "We found the white pumpkin’s lair." He announces, his tone firm. "Right beneath us."

Both Stacy and Dan go pale. Dan’s arms drop to his sides, and Stacy visibly stiffens. "What? Really?!" she gasps, eyes darting between us in disbelief.

"Yeah, really interesting." A familiar voice calls smoothly from the staircase. Cassie.

She struts into the room, poised as ever, with Winslow trotting confidently at her heels. Her green eyes lock onto me almost instantly, her expression unreadable, but her raised eyebrow is enough to convey her silent question. I shake my head subtly, signaling that I haven't betrayed our so-called alliance.

"I found everyone but—Ah!" Stampy skids to a stop at the sight of Cassie, his face drained of color. Ivor and Lukas trail in behind him, their postures tense.

Jesse takes a step forward, narrowing his eyes at Cassie. "You gonna tell them, or should I just do it?"

Cassie’s demeanor doesn’t waver. "I don’t know what you’re talking about." She says coolly, crossing her arms.

"Petra! Y/N! Grab her, quick!" Jesse orders, his voice sharp. Instinct takes over. Petra lunges for Cassie's arm, and I snatch the other, locking my grip around her wrist.

"Hey! Let go!" Cassie snarls, twisting violently against our hold.

"You’re not going anywhere! Murderer!" Petra hisses through clenched teeth, her grip tightening.

Cassie’s expression flickers, her mask of innocence finally cracking. Her struggle sharpens, and with a swift movement, she wrenches her arm from Petra’s grasp before ripping herself free from me as well.

"Look at the facts!" She spits, stepping back, her chest heaving with exertion. "We caught Lukas with that pumpkin head, right after poor Lizzie got taken out. I think you’re just lying to protect him." Winslow hops onto the table behind her, curling his tail around his paws, as if observing his owner's performance. Cassie’s words land hard, and for a moment, hesitation ripples through the room.

"Cassie’s making a lot of sense right now." Dan mutters, shifting uncomfortably. "Do you have any evidence to back you up?"

Petra turns on him with a glare so sharp it could cut through bedrock.

Jesse doesn’t waste time arguing. Instead, he begins pacing in a slow, deliberate circle. "There’s something that’s been bothering me for a while now." He muses, his voice quieter but no less intense. "Something that happened in the great hall, shortly after TorqueDawg was hit with that trap."

Cassie rolls her eyes. "What’s that?" She mutters, feigning boredom.

Jesse stops pacing. "Cassie was alone with the portraits, right after TorqueDawg was killed."

A few murmurs break out among the group, suspicion creeping into their expressions.

Jesse’s confidence builds. "Next, when we were in the basement, we found some very interesting items. Items for the white pumpkin’s evening festivities. And there was one very significant detail." He pauses for effect. "The white pumpkin had portraits all ready to go, already X’d out for each of us."

His eyes lock onto Cassie, and the room collectively holds its breath. "Except for Cassie."

"Ooh, that’s good." Ivor mutters under his breath, nodding approvingly. A muscle in Cassie’s jaw tightens.

"But there was one piece of evidence that really helped me figure out who we were dealing with here." Jesse continues. "Cats. Dozens of calico cats. And they all looked just like Winslow."

Winslow flicks his tail as if responding to the accusation, his purring the only sound in the now-silent room. Cassie moves on instinct, stepping in front of Winslow protectively. "An amusing story, Jesse." She sneers, but her voice is less composed now, a slight tremor breaking through. "But if you saw all these supposed cats, just like mine, then what color is Winslow? It shouldn’t be a problem if you saw a hundred."

Jesse doesn’t hesitate. "Winslow is black, white, and orange."

Cassie’s face drains of color. She looks at Winslow as if hoping for an escape, but the truth is already out.

"Jesse’s right!" Stacy exclaims, her shocked expression morphing into a scowl.

"This whole crazy scheme has been about getting a portal key, hasn’t it?" Jesse presses, stepping closer. "Killing whoever gets in your way!"

Cassie backs up, her usual composure unraveling under the weight of the truth closing in around her. "How very clever, Jesse." She finally sighs, straightening herself. Then, to everyone’s shock, she begins to clap slowly, mock applause echoing through the hall.

"Well, I guess that’s it then." She purrs, her lips curling into a sly grin. "You caught me. I am the murderer."

The air in the room shifts. Even though we’ve suspected it, hearing her admit it out loud is like ice sliding down my spine.

"I still don’t understand." Jesse says, crossing his arms. "Why a portal key?"

Cassie’s grin fades, replaced by a look of pure resentment. "I’ve been stuck in this stupid world, with its stupid two moons, for years!" She snaps, her voice venomous. "Trapped, with a portal right under my nose! But no key to open it."

She exhales sharply, her frustration practically tangible. "That is... until I finally heard that this world’s portal key had been found. I knew it was one of you, so I tried my best to earn your friendship. Figure out who had it."

Jesse watches her carefully. "Wow, that sounds pretty hard." He says dryly, his expression unreadable. "Too bad I can’t really sympathize... because I have a portal key."

He reaches into his inventory and pulls out the enchanted flint and steel, holding it up for her to see. The glow from the artifact casts a faint reflection in Cassie’s wide eyes. Her expression shifts, the hunger in her gaze unmistakable.

This is it. She’s cornered, and she knows it. But a cornered animal is the most dangerous kind.

Cassie’s grip on her diamond axe tightens as she steps toward Jesse, her green eyes flashing with fury. "Why you little—" She growls, raising the weapon.

"We need to do something with you... Cassie Rose." Stacy interjects, stepping directly into Cassie’s path, her tone dripping with venom.

Stampy crosses his arms. "I vote we build an obsidian prison and surround it with lava."

Cassie’s expression darkens. "No, I won’t let you do that! I can't! No!" Her breathing becomes erratic, her stance shifting wildly as panic sets in. "This is your fault! You did this to me!" She spits, her voice a frenzied mix of desperation and rage.

She swings her axe wildly, her movements erratic, but Jesse doesn’t back down. He steps closer, sword drawn, ready to disarm her. "I’ll fight all of you!" Cassie snarls, retreating a step. "Each and every one of you!"

Before anyone can move, the floor beneath her collapses. A hidden pit opens up beneath her feet, swallowing her whole as she lets out a startled scream.

Chunks of sand pour from the ceiling, cascading into the pit, piling onto Cassie as she struggles to claw her way free.

"She’s trapped! We need to dig her out!" Stampy exclaims, already dropping to his knees and frantically clawing at the sand.

"After everything she’s done? She can dig herself out." Stacy scoffs, folding her arms.

"She’s done horrible things, but no one deserves this!" Dan argues, moving to help Stampy. His hands sink into the loose sand, desperately trying to reach Cassie.

Then, Stampy freezes. "Wait, look!" He points toward the pit. The room falls silent.

A pile of inventory sits motionless in the sand. Cassie is gone.

"I... I can’t believe it." Stampy mutters, his voice eerily quiet.

"Wow." Jesse exhales, staring down at the remnants of her existence. "The trapper taken out by one of her own traps. That’s ironic."

Dan steps back, rubbing a hand over his face, his expression torn. "If only she had asked for help, we could have avoided this whole thing."

A long silence stretches between us until Jesse turns to the window. "Hey, look. It’s morning."

The warm glow of the rising sun spills through the glass panes, casting soft golden light into the once-dark room. Below us, zombies groan as their decaying bodies catch fire, their grotesque figures burning in the daylight.

"I guess that’s it then." Stampy murmurs.

"Yeah, we’re free!" Stacy cheers, a relieved grin spreading across her face.

"And alive!" Ivor adds, though his tone carries a hint of paranoia. "Let’s not waste it. There could still be traps everywhere." Without waiting, he moves toward the door. We all follow him out, stepping onto the damp grass outside.

The air is thick with the scent of burning flesh, smoke curling lazily into the sky as the last of the undead disintegrate into ash.

Ivor breathes in deeply, sighing in relief. "Ah... I’ve never been so happy to smell rotting flesh."

Dan glances at the fading embers, his mood somber. "I feel bad thinking about the people who aren’t here to smell it. TorqueDawg, Sparklez, Lizzie... and Cassie, I guess."

"I’m just glad we stopped Cassie." Jesse says, his expression neutral, though his eyes flick toward the ruins of the mansion behind us.

"Lucky for us that portal brought you here." Dan remarks with a small smile.

At that, Ivor groans dramatically. "Speaking of which, I have no idea how to begin finding our exit portal."

"Well, Cassie said it was right under her nose, right?" Stampy suggests, scratching his chin.

"That’s true." Jesse nods thoughtfully. "Maybe it’s nearby."

As if on cue, Jesse’s eyes widen. He points into the distance, grinning. "Hey! There it is!" A golden skull looms in the distance, its hollowed-out mouth standing open, framing a shimmering purple portal deep inside.

"What a fabulous coincidence!" Ivor grins gleefully, rubbing his hands together.

Stacy’s expression falters slightly, her excitement dimming. "So, I guess this is goodbye, huh?"

Jesse nods. "Yeah, just let us know if you ever accidentally find yourselves in our world."

Lukas chuckles. "Not that we’d recommend it."

Dan offers a half-smile. "That’s really nice of you, but I don’t think we can portal hop... you know, without a portal key."

Stampy immediately stiffens. Jesse’s eyes glint with amusement. "Oh, I think Stampy has you covered there."

Dan furrows his brows. "Uh, Stampy? What is he talking about?"

Stampy shuffles awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. "I’m sorry..." With a reluctant sigh, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the green flint and steel.

Dan’s jaw drops. "What?! You stole the enchanted flint and steel?!"

"It was just meant to be a prank! A harmless prank!" Stampy stammers, thrusting the glowing artifact toward Dan. "I’m so sorry! So very sorry!"

"Hey guys, it’s cool." Jesse interjects before Dan can explode. "You can all share it."

Dan crosses his arms, glaring at Stampy before finally sighing. "Alright, I guess I could live with that."

"Well, I’m not great at goodbyes, so... I’m actually just gonna start walking home. Thanks for everything." Stacy says, turning on her heel without another word.

"Yeah, me too. Travel safe, you guys." Dan adds before following her.

"Bye!" Stampy calls cheerfully, trailing after them.

Jesse watches them go before shaking his head with a chuckle. "What a strange group of individuals."

"To think." I sigh with a small smile. "I made this for nothing." I hold up something up from my inventory, holding it up for the group to see. A decoy of the enchanted flint and steel.

Jesse’s brows furrow. "Wait... how did you get that?" He quickly pats down his pockets before pulling out the real flint and steel, staring at me in confusion.

I smirk. "Oh, right. Well, the one I have is fake. I made it because Cassie was after the one you had. Just in case we needed to lure her away from the real one."

Jesse blinks, processing my words before shaking his head in disbelief. "Of course you did."

"Smart thinking." Petra smirks, nudging me playfully.

Ivor’s eyes narrow as he processes my words, his mind piecing everything together. His expression twists somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. "So that's what your little plan was." He mutters, shaking his head as if he can’t decide whether to be impressed or horrified.

"Yep." I admit, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of their stares. "And you guys were none the wiser. Although... there is something else." I hesitate, my fingers curling slightly as I rub the back of my neck. "I... kind of knew Cassie was the killer for a while now."

Silence hangs in the air for a fraction of a second before the room erupts.

"WHAT?!" The shout is deafening, everyone’s voices colliding in shock and outrage.

"You didn't say anything?!" Ivor huffs, his face contorted with frustration, his hands flying up into the air.

Petra’s jaw tightens. "Are you serious right now? You knew and you didn’t think to clue us in?!"

Jesse’s face is unreadable for a moment, but then his hands clench into fists at his sides. "What the hell, Y/N?!"

"Look, I didn’t have any actual evidence it was her, okay? Just a gut feeling." I say quickly, trying to defend myself. "And when I talked to her alone, I played along, made her think I was on her side so I could take her down when I got the chance. But... she did it herself."

The anger in the group simmers slightly, their postures relaxing just a little. But Jesse? Jesse looks like he’s barely holding himself together.

"Wow... that is... incredibly stupid." Jesse finally speaks, his voice strained with something that’s not just anger. It’s something deeper. Something sharper.

"Uh... what?" I blink, confused.

"That plan was dangerous! You could’ve gotten hurt, or worse, killed!" Jesse’s voice rises, his frustration bubbling over as he steps toward me. His eyes are blazing with something fierce and raw. "Do you have no regard for your own safety?!"

The intensity in his voice catches me off guard, but instead of snapping back, I just grin, shaking my head.

"Yeah, yeah. I care about you too, you big oaf." I mutter before stepping forward and wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug. Jesse goes rigid in my grasp, his breath hitching slightly.

For a moment, he doesn’t move. Then, finally, his shoulders sag, and his arms encircle me, squeezing me tight—almost too tight. His grip is desperate, fingers clutching the fabric of my clothes like if he lets go, I’ll slip away.

"I don’t want... no... I can’t lose you." Jesse whispers, his voice trembling with something fragile and unspoken. "Please, be more careful."

The quiet plea settles deep in my chest, heavier than I expect. I nod against his shoulder, murmuring, "Alright, Jesse. I promise."

Lukas clears his throat loudly behind us. "If you two lovebirds are done, we have a portal to light."

I pull back just enough to shoot him a glare, but Jesse doesn’t let go immediately. Instead, he lingers for a second longer, like he’s making sure I’m really still here. Then, finally, he releases me, and I exhale, shaking off the tension.

"Let’s get out of here." I mutter, sending one last glance toward the ruined mansion.

Jesse gives me one last look, eyes soft but still full of something unspoken, before nodding. "Yeah. Let’s go home."

Chapter Text

Ivor exhales sharply, rolling his eyes at our antics before turning on his heel and making his way toward the portal. The rest of us follow, eager to leave this cursed place behind. As we walk, Ivor strokes his beard, clearly deep in thought. "What if Cassie what's-her-name was actually one of the old builders?" He muses, his tone unusually serious.

Jesse's eyes widen slightly at the idea. "Oh wow! I think you could be right. It totally makes sense!" He agrees, glancing over at Ivor.

Ivor scoffs in amusement. "If that's true, I sort of thought the old builders would be taller."

Petra lets out an exhausted groan, running a hand through her hair. "I just can't believe we might've met someone who could've been an old builder... and she turned out to be a pumpkin-wearing serial killer."

Just as I take another step forward, something tugs at the back of my leg. I freeze, my instincts flaring to life. Turning sharply, I find Winslow, his sharp little teeth gently tugging at my ankle. I furrow my brows as the calico meets my gaze, then flicks his eyes toward the portal. His ears twitch, and then—almost deliberately—he shakes his head.

It's like he's telling me not to go.

I hesitate. He steps away from me and pads over to the portal. There's a blue flash from Jesse's direction, but something is wrong. The portal doesn't swirl the way it should. Instead, it remains eerily still, a column of cold blue fire flickering inside the frame.

Winslow hops onto the portal, his tail flicking lazily as he stares down at Jesse and the others. Jesse frowns. "Winslow?" He asks, his head tilting in confusion.

Before anyone can react, a deep rumbling shakes the earth beneath us. The ground splits apart without warning. Grass and dirt crumble away, opening a gaping pit beneath Jesse, Petra, Lukas, and Ivor. They cry out as they scramble to keep their footing, but the ground gives way, and in an instant, they're gone.

My body moves before my mind can process what just happened. Sprinting to the edge of the pit, I skid to a halt, my eyes scanning the abyss below. I can't see the bottom. There's only darkness swallowing my friends whole.

Winslow is still watching me, unbothered, perched on the edge of the portal frame. His tail flicks again, this time almost impatiently.

My jaw tightens. "What do you want from me?" I snarl, my voice laced with frustration.

Winslow leaps down gracefully, landing at my feet before rubbing against my leg with a soft purr. Then, he tilts his head toward my pocket, his gaze expectant.

I sigh, already knowing what he's asking for. Reaching into my pocket, my fingers close around a cool, smooth object. Pulling it out, I glance down at the ender pearl in my palm. "You want me to pearl down there?" I mutter. Winslow lets out a satisfied purr.

I grit my teeth, weighing my options. But the moment of hesitation is fleeting. With a grunt, I throw the pearl into the pit as hard as I can. Winslow, without an ounce of fear, leaps in after it.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, my vision warps. The world twists and bends, colors blurring together before snapping back into focus. I land on solid ground, and the first thing I hear is laughter.

High-pitched. Amused. Familiar. Cassie Rose.

The sight before me makes my stomach churn. The cavern is dimly lit, glowing only with eerie redstone torches lining the walls. Below me, the sound of clicking and chittering echoes through the air. I don't even have to look to know what's down there.

Jesse, Lukas, Petra, and Ivor stand trapped on a narrow bridge of dirt, hovering above a writhing pit of endermites. Cassie is standing beside me, grinning like she's enjoying the show.

"Ah, Y/N. Lovely timing." She purrs, her green eyes gleaming with amusement.

Jesse's head snaps up, his expression hardening as he glares at her. "Oh please, I've gotten out of worse than this, Cassie." He mutters, his voice defiant.

Cassie smirks, her grip tightening around the diamond axe in her hand. "Huh. I admire your bravado." She gestures to the pit below. "I don't know how much time you've spent with endermites, but the poor things are eternally hungry. I'd throw the flint and steel up here before I drop you down to find out just how sharp their teeth are."

Jesse stiffens, his hand instinctively moving to his pocket. He starts patting himself down frantically, realizing something is wrong.

Cassie's smirk widens. "Tick tock, tick tock, Jesse." She coos. "What's it gonna be? The flint and steel, or your lives?"

Jesse mutters something under his breath to the others, and Cassie's patience wears thin. "Ugh, you obviously don't know how this works." I snarl, stepping forward. "Hand over the flint and steel, and maybe we'll let you go."

Jesse looks up at me, eyes narrowing slightly. Then, he nods.

I exhale, my grip on my sword tightening just slightly. At least he understands what I'm doing.

Cassie, however, is growing increasingly annoyed. "This is taking too long.' She huffs, rolling her eyes. "I'll just let the endermites eat you and fish it out of your inventory."

She reaches into her pocket, pulling out the familiar white pumpkin mask. She slips it over her head, her voice distorting slightly as she lets out a low chuckle. "It'll be the best fishing trip ever!" She turns to me, her tone sharp. "Y/N, activate the trap!"

I meet her gaze, my fingers flexing at my sides. My mind races. Cassie tilts her head. Waiting.

I cross my arms. "You do it." I say flatly. "I don't know how your traps work."

Cassie clicks her tongue in irritation, stepping past me toward the mechanism. "Ugh. Want something done right, you have to—" She slams her hand against a lever.

She grins, watching the ground beneath my friends tremble.

"Prepare for your death!" She cackles, the endermites below screeching in anticipation.

Cassie flicks her wrist impatiently, her sharp green eyes locking onto me. "Come on, Winslow. Y/N." She commands, her voice low and demanding.

I don't move. My muscles coil with tension as I meet Jesse's gaze across the platform. He holds an ender pearl tightly in his grip, his fingers twitching as he waits for my signal.

"No." I growl, shifting my stance. Cassie's expression darkens instantly.

"What did you just say?" she hisses, her voice laced with venom.

I square my shoulders and bare my teeth. "I said... no!" With a burst of energy, I lunge at her.

The impact sends both of us crashing to the ground. Cassie snarls, struggling beneath me as I pin her down. She thrashes wildly, her nails scraping against my arms as she tries to break free. Jesse takes his cue, launching the ender pearl. In a flash of swirling purple light, he reappears near the control panel. His hands move quickly, yanking the lever.

But something goes wrong. The bridge beneath our friends doesn't stop collapsing—it speeds up.

"You traitor!" Cassie shrieks, fury blazing in her eyes. She jerks her arm free and delivers a brutal right hook to my jaw.

White-hot pain explodes across my face. I recoil, hissing through clenched teeth as I stagger back, my vision momentarily blurring. Cassie takes the opportunity to scramble away. Gritting my teeth, I reach for my sword, but by the time I regain my footing, she's already vanished.

Jesse, breathing heavily, rips the lever from the control panel, but Cassie's voice slithers through the cavern like a shadow. "What? You thought it'd be that easy?" she taunts.

A dark shape emerges from the gloom, darting toward Jesse. I react on instinct. My body moves before my mind catches up, shoving Jesse aside just as the figure lunges. Jesse crashes onto the stone floor with a grunt, rolling out of the way as I brace for another attack.

Cassie swings wildly, her form a blur in the dim light. Jesse recovers just in time to deflect her next strike, his sword meeting hers with a sharp clang. With a grunt, he pushes back, sending Cassie staggering toward the edge.

She teeters for a split second—then she's gone. Her diamond axe clatters to the ground where she once stood, but before I can even process what just happened, a flicker of movement catches my eye. Cassie reappears in a burst of purple light, an ender pearl still clutched in her hand.

Jesse bolts to the edge of the control platform, peering down into the darkness. His breath catches.

"Guys? No... No!" His voice wavers.

I rush to his side, my heart hammering. The bridge is gone. A void of nothingness gapes beneath us. No. No way. It can't end like this.

"Jesse! Y/N!" A familiar voice echoes from below.

Jesse and I whip our heads down. Against all odds, Petra, Lukas, and Ivor stand pressed against a pair of iron doors, their feet barely clinging to the last remaining blocks above a sheer drop.

"Guys! Holy crap, you're alive!" Jesse exhales, relief flooding his features. "Thank goodness."

"Yeah, for now." Petra grumbles, clearly unimpressed with their near-death experience.

Jesse doesn't waste a second. "Don't worry, I found a lever!" He holds it up triumphantly.

"Throw it down!" Lukas shouts, his voice taut with urgency.

"Okay, get ready." Jesse calls, tossing it.

Petra reaches up and snatches the small lever out of the air. "Got it!" She breathes, gripping it tightly.

"Okay, you guys get to safety. I have to find that flint and steel before Cassie does!" Jesse declares, determination flashing in his eyes.

Something uneasy settles in my stomach. "Wait... you don't have it?" I ask slowly.

Jesse hesitates. "Uh... yeah, I kind of dropped it when we fell in that pit."

I drag a hand down my face, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. "Jesse!"

"I know, I know!" He groans. "You can yell at me later, but right now, help me find it before she does!"

I shake my head but nod, already scanning the area. Jesse sprints ahead, leaping onto another bridge.

A blur of movement—Cassie. She appears on the opposite side, her expression twisted in frustration. "You're not a fast learner, are you?" She snarls.

Before either of us can respond, she lunges. Jesse and I barely dodge in time, rolling to opposite sides as her blade slices through empty air. Cassie straightens, her gaze flicking between us. Then, her eyes land on something in the distance, and my blood runs cold.

The flint and steel. I spot it at the same time she does. Jesse, too. All three of us move.

Cassie sprints toward the glimmering object, her boots pounding against the stone. Jesse lunges after her, tackling her from behind. They crash onto the ground, wrestling for control.

Then, Winslow saunters forward. All three of us freeze.

The calico cat steps delicately toward the flint and steel, his tail flicking as he reaches out a paw and taps it.

Cassie pales. "No! Winslow, don't touch that!" She shouts.

Winslow, ever the defiant little troublemaker, ignores her completely. He bats at the object lazily, sending it rolling toward the edge.

Cassie's breathing quickens. "No, no, no! Winslow, bad kitty!" Her voice pitches in desperation.

Jesse and I share a glance. Slowly, carefully, I inch closer, my movements calculated.

Jesse tries a different approach. "Here, kitty kitty! Here, kitty kitty!" His voice is coaxing, but Winslow only looks up at him with an almost insulted expression.

Then, with one last casual flick of his paw, Winslow knocks the flint and steel off the ledge.

Cassie hurls an ender pearl, her body vanishing in a flicker of purple light. Jesse lunges, trying to stop her, but he's too late. She reappears midair, her fingers closing around the falling flint and steel.

"No!" Jesse and I shout in unison, our voices echoing through the cavern.

Cassie clutches the enchanted item to her chest, her expression wild with triumph. "It's finally mine! After all this time, I'm finally free!" She exclaims, spinning on her heel. "Winslow, we have to go."

The calico cat purrs and leaps down to her side, rubbing against her leg. Cassie spares him only a brief glance before scolding him. "What have I told you about wandering off?"

Jesse doesn't hesitate. He jumps down to her level, sword at the ready. "I think you should give that back, Cassie." He warns, his voice firm.

Cassie giggles, light and mocking. "No, I'm afraid not." She shrugs and flicks a lever at her feet.

The ground beneath Jesse trembles before splitting apart. Sand cascades down as a pit yawns open. Jesse sprints, leaping for solid ground just as the platform collapses beneath him. I drop down beside him, my heart hammering.

Jesse dangles by one arm, his fingers barely clinging to the ledge. I reach out and grab his wrist, yanking him up with all the strength I can muster. He scrambles onto the platform, panting. Cassie, standing a few feet away, tilts her head in amusement.

Jesse doesn't waste a second. He lunges at her, but before he can reach her, a burst of blue flames erupts between them, forcing him back. The fire crackles, licking the air hungrily.

Cassie smirks, stepping back toward another lever. "That's netherrack." She says smoothly. "Which means it stays on fire forever!"

I glare at her through the rising flames, gripping my sword tighter. Behind her, another thick stone wall grinds open, revealing something above.

A grin tugs at my lips as I glance up. Lukas and Petra stand at the edge of a higher platform, watching, waiting for a signal.

Jesse takes a step back and calls out, "Hey, cats suck!"

Cassie freezes. The muscles in her jaw tighten, her hands balling into fists. She wheels around, storming toward us, muttering incoherent curses under her breath.

She's in position. Petra drops from above, landing hard on Cassie's back, sending her stumbling. At the same time, Lukas overturns a bucket of water, dousing the netherrack and extinguishing the fire in an instant.

Cassie shrieks, struggling beneath Petra's weight. The flint and steel slips from her grasp, clattering onto the ground.

It teeters on the edge. "What's going—ah! I got it!" Ivor cries, scrambling onto the platform just in time to snatch the portal key before it plummets into the abyss below.

Cassie's eyes flash with unrestrained fury. She wrestles free from Petra, her face contorted with rage. "You're all dying now!" She screeches.

She bolts toward Ivor, murder in her eyes.

"I don't think so!" Ivor howls, lobbing the flint and steel toward Jesse.

But I move first. I intercept the throw midair, snatching the enchanted item from its trajectory. Cassie skids to a stop, her gaze snapping to me.

She sees her last chance slipping away. With a vicious snarl, she lunges. I react instinctively, shoving Jesse out of the way and striking the ground beneath Cassie's feet with the flint and steel.

Flames burst to life, swallowing the space between us. Cassie's scream is drowned out by the roar of the fire as she's flung back. She crashes against the stone with a sickening thud. A moment later, her hand flies to her face, tearing off her burning white pumpkin mask and flinging it to the ground.

A wall of fire separates us from the others.

Cassie groans, pushing herself up onto her hands and knees. Her body trembles with unspent rage, her fingers curling into the dirt.

I take a step forward, gripping the flint and steel tightly. Cassie's breathing is heavy, ragged. Her wild eyes lock onto mine. "Move a muscle..." I warn, inching the flint and steel over the edge of the platform. "And I'll drop it."

The entire room stills.

"Y/N, what are you doing?!" Ivor protests, his voice sharp over the crackling flames.

"We need that to go home!" Lukas calls out desperately.

Cassie takes a cautious step toward me, her face twisted in disbelief. "You wouldn't." She hisses. "You need it as much as I do."

My grip tightens around the flint and steel. "I think you know better than to test my resolve, Cassie." I snarl.

She trembles, her anger giving way to something else—something more desperate. "We could've been friends, you and I." She murmurs. "I thought I finally found someone who understands me, but you betrayed me."

Her voice wavers, but there's something in it that makes my blood run cold. "Give me the damn portal key!" She screams. "I've been stuck here for so long! Haven't you ever been stuck somewhere? A place you wanted to leave so badly, and the solution was right in front of you, but you couldn't reach it?"

The words slam into me like a physical force. A flash of memory blinds me. The cavern melts away. The stone beneath my feet vanishes.

Wooden walls surround me instead. The cold platform morphs into the smooth, familiar floor of an old house. And then I see them.

My father, hunched over my sister's limp body, his shoulders trembling with silent sobs. His fingers clutch at her motionless frame as if willing her back to life. My mother stands nearby, hands clasped over her mouth, her entire body shaking.

Then my father moves. He picks up a small glass bottle lying beside the bed. Slowly, he turns. His bloodshot eyes meet mine.

A chill grips my spine. His stare is not one of sorrow, but of blame. The room around me vanishes in a blur, the image dissolving in an instant.

I'm back in the cavern. Back in front of Cassie.

My grip on the flint and steel wavers. Cassie sees it. And she moves.

She lunges, her blade flashing in the dim light. I snap back to reality just in time. Our weapons clash, the sound ringing through the air as sparks fly between us.

She growls, pushing against me with all her strength. But I don't yield.

"If you want the flint and steel so badly..." I grunt, my muscles burning with effort. "Then go get it!"

With all my might, I throw it. Cassie's breath catches in her throat as she watches it spin through the air, glimmering faintly.

"No!" She shrieks.

She forgets about me. Forgets everything. She dives after it, arms outstretched.

The flint and steel lands on a precarious dirt platform, just above the writhing pit of endermites. Cassie leaps after it, her fingers closing tightly around the enchanted item. A wild, manic grin spreads across her face as she clutches it to her chest like a long-lost treasure.

Above, Lukas dumps another wave of water over the dying flames, extinguishing the last of the barrier keeping me from the group. Petra steps beside him, her face tight with frustration. "Why would you do that?!" She snaps, her voice edged with disbelief.

Cassie cackles from her perch, rocking on the unstable patch of dirt. "Well, Y/N, I bet you're real proud of yourself!" Her voice drips with venom, but her expression is still gleeful, victorious. "Look at me! Stuck again! Out of ender pearls! But I have the key! And you'll never escape without it!" Her laughter echoes off the stone walls, high and shrill.

"She's right..." Jesse mutters, his shoulders slumping. He turns to me, disappointment laced in his tone. "Y/N, why did you throw away the portal key?"

I smirk, reaching into my inventory. "Relax." I say, pulling out another enchanted flint and steel—this one glowing with an unmistakable shimmer of magic. "We have a better one."

Cassie's laughter stops abruptly. The smug satisfaction in her eyes flickers into confusion. She glances down at the flint and steel in her hands, eyes narrowing. Slowly, she rubs her thumb over the surface, and the blue dye smears away. Her entire body tenses.

"What the—wait..." She glares at the fake item, realization dawning.

"Oh, did I not mention?" I feign innocence, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "That one's a decoy. Whoops."

Cassie's expression twists with rage. She tightens her grip on the worthless replica before hurling it down into the endermite pit in disgust. "You sneaky little—" She stops herself, seething.

"Wait... you had the real one this entire time?" Lukas asks, his brows lifting.

"Not the entire time." I admit, tossing the real flint and steel to Jesse. "When Ivor threw it, I switched it for the decoy. You didn't really think I'd throw away our only way home, did you?"

Jesse lets out a sharp exhale before shaking his head with an amused smirk. "You had us fooled. That was actually kind of brilliant."

"You dirty rat!" Cassie shrieks, her voice rising into a desperate scream. "When I get out of here, I'll slaughter you all!"

Jesse clenches the flint and steel in his palm, casting one last glance down at her. "You got what you deserved, Cassie. You were ruthless, selfish, and cruel. And this—" He gestures to the crumbling dirt platform beneath her feet, the abyss of endermites snapping hungrily below "—this is where that gets you."

He turns his back, walking away.

"Wait!" Cassie's voice wavers, desperation creeping in now. "At least don't leave me here all alone!" She softens her tone, her wild gaze flickering with something dangerously close to pleading. "Give me my cat. My dear, sweet Winslow. He's my best... my only friend."

At the mention of his name, Winslow pads over, tail flicking lazily. He glances down at Cassie, his expression unreadable.

Jesse hesitates. His eyes shift between the cat and the woman below, weighing the decision. Then Winslow makes it for him.

Without warning, the cat jumps up onto my leg, then climbs with surprising ease to perch on my shoulder. I freeze, blinking at the sudden weight. He purrs loudly, rubbing his head against my cheek.

I try to nudge him off gently, but he only digs his claws deeper into my shoulder, making himself comfortable. "Uh... what?" I mutter, looking at the others for help.

Lukas watches with an amused smirk. "Well, I guess you have a cat now."

I sigh, defeated. "Yeah, I guess so."

Cassie's eyes widen in horror as she watches her only companion turn his back on her. "No—Winslow! Come back to me, precious!" She cries, her voice breaking.

Winslow doesn't even look at her. Jesse, grinning slightly at the sight, turns toward the portal. "Wow. So she kept the real portal hidden down here this whole time."

Ivor eyes the massive golden portal with deep suspicion. "Unless this one is a trap too." He mutters.

"I don't know if even she'd be that paranoid." Lukas muses, though his voice holds some doubt.

"Only one way to find out." I step forward, adjusting Winslow on my shoulder as he lets out another satisfied purr.

Jesse pulls the real flint and steel from his inventory. With a bright flash, the portal ignites, swirling with vibrant green energy.

"Good sign so far." Ivor murmurs reluctantly.

"Yeah, no trick floors, no arrows..." Petra trails off, glancing around.

Jesse steps toward the shimmering gateway and turns back to the group. "The question is... who's going first?"

Lukas exhales, shifting his weight. "We're sure about this, right?"

Jesse nods. "We're a team. We all go together."

One by one, we step up to the portal's edge. "Ready?" Jesse raises the flint and steel. "One... two... three!"

He sprints forward, leaping into the swirling green abyss. The rest of us follow, bracing ourselves for whatever world lies on the other side.

Chapter Text

The moment we step back into the portal hallway, the cycle begins again. One portal after another—water world, a bizarre love dimension (Petra and Lukas took every opportunity to tease me and Jesse about that one), a realm filled with endless sheep, an anti-gravity world that made everything feel upside down, a freezing tundra of nothing but snow, and finally, a burning inferno of fire and magma. By the time we step out of that last portal, we’re all exhausted, our clothes damp with sweat, our limbs sore from all the running, falling, and near-death experiences.

Jesse collapses onto the ground, catching his breath. "That was insane! Why would there even be a fire world?" he huffs, brushing soot from his sleeves.

Something flickers in my peripheral vision. I glance over and smirk. "Uh... Lukas? Your ass is on fire."

Lukas blinks, confused. "Wait, what?" He twists around, finally spotting the flames licking up the back of his tunic. His eyes widen in horror. "Oh crap!" He immediately drops to the ground, rolling frantically to smother the fire. Petra stares at him, unimpressed.

"Yep. That one’s definitely going down as fire world." Lukas mutters, sitting up and pulling out his notebook to jot it down.

Petra scoffs, folding her arms. "Wow. How’d you come up with that gem of a name?"

Lukas pauses mid-writing, his brow furrowing at her sharp tone. "Did I miss something here?" he asks, glancing between us.

"Yeah, what’s up with you?" Jesse asks, his voice edged with concern.

Petra lets out a harsh breath, her frustration finally boiling over. "What’s up with me? What’s up?! I’m tired of this! All of it!" She throws her arms out in exasperation. "All this stupid, pointless portal hopping, trying to find our way home, only to end up in another death trap!"

"She’s got a point." I admit, stretching out my sore muscles. Winslow lets out a small, unimpressed chuff from his spot beside me, mirroring my frustration.

Jesse shakes his head, his expression turning skeptical. "That doesn’t sound like the Petra I know. She loves fighting against impossible odds."

Petra lets out a dry laugh, but there’s no humor in it. "Yeah, when I have to. But I don’t want to fight just for the sake of fighting." She gestures toward the latest portal we barely escaped from. "And for what? More of this?!"

"Lukas, you're on fire again!" Jesse yelps, nodding toward Lukas.

I snap my head toward him. Sure enough, a small ember clings stubbornly to his sleeve. With a string of curses, Lukas frantically pats himself down, managing to put it out before it spreads. But Petra only uses the moment to drive her point home. "See? This is exactly what I’m talking about! We’re stuck here. Go through a portal, avoid dying long enough to get back to this stupid hallway—"

"Wash, rinse, repeat?" Ivor finishes for her, scowling as he glares at the fire portal. "Yes, it would have been nice if whoever built this place left some sort of instructions."

"I guess a few guideposts would be nice." Jesse admits. "But of course, there’s gonna be some trial and error."

Petra whirls on him, eyes flashing. "Error. And error, and error!" She throws her hands up. "I’m done with this!"

Without another word, she storms away from the group, her boots stomping heavily against the stone floor.

"Petra! Where are you going?" Ivor calls after her, his brows furrowed in concern.

She doesn’t slow her pace. "There may not be guideposts, but somebody has to know how to navigate these portals."

I exhale sharply, already bracing for the inevitable argument. Still, I step forward to follow her, and the others fall in line behind me.

Petra stops in front of a portal outlined in redstone, her stance tense. "Okay. This one’s Redstone. Redstone means smart people. Hopefully, smart enough to help us find our way home."

Winslow, perched near my feet, suddenly lets out a sharp hiss, his ears flattening against his head. Then, in one quick movement, he scrambles up my leg and perches on my shoulder, his claws digging into my shirt as if the portal itself terrifies him.

"I don’t think that’s a good idea." I mutter, scratching behind Winslow’s ear to calm him.

Petra scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Of course you would be the one to understand a serial killer’s cat."

I blink, caught off guard. My body stiffens, and I turn to face her fully. "What is that supposed to mean?" My voice is low, measured.

Petra meets my glare with one of her own. "Murder runs in your blood, right?" Her tone is cold, emotionless. "So it only makes sense you’d understand the White Pumpkin’s pet."

A heavy silence blankets the hallway.

Jesse’s voice cuts through it, strained with warning. "Petra—"

"What?" She shrugs, feigning innocence. "I’m just stating facts. What are they gonna do? Kill me? Prove me right?" She steps forward, eyes locking onto mine, daring me to react.

The air between us turns suffocating, crackling with tension.

"You gonna cry?" she taunts. "Hit me?" She shoves me, hard. "Go on then. Hit me! Prove me right!"

The moment her hands leave my chest, my vision blurs with rage.

"Y’know what?" My voice comes out dark, shaking with barely restrained anger. "Yeah. I’ll prove you right."

I don’t hesitate. My fist connects with her jaw in a sickening crack, sending her stumbling backward. The impact sends pain shooting through my knuckles, but I don’t care. Petra crashes to the floor with a grunt, blinking in shock.

The rush of adrenaline fades into something heavier, something bitter. I turn sharply, ready to walk away—but then Petra’s voice, venomous and cutting, pierces the silence.

"Look at that." She pushes herself up onto her elbows, spitting blood onto the ground. "You really are just as bad as your father, aren’t you?"

The world tilts. My breathing halts. Something deep inside me snaps.

Before anyone can react, I lunge at her, tackling her to the ground. My fists meet her face—again, and again. I don’t stop. I can’t stop.

"Y/N, stop!" Jesse’s voice shouts somewhere in the distance.

Hands grab at me, yanking me backward. Lukas, Ivor, and Jesse struggle to pull me off of her, holding me tight as I thrash against their grip. My pulse roars in my ears, drowning out everything else.

"Petra!" Jesse’s voice shakes with anger. "Apologize!"

Petra wipes blood from her mouth, her expression unreadable. Then, she scoffs.

"Fine." She mutters. "I’ll apologize if you can answer this one question, Jesse." She cocks her head, her smirk half-hidden behind bruised lips. "Am I wrong?"

Jesse falters. The confident fire in his eyes dims, just for a second. His mouth opens, then closes again, scrambling for words.

I rip myself free from their grasp, my chest heaving. "That’s not the point!" Jesse blurts out, his voice cracking under the weight of the moment. "You need to apologize!"

Petra lifts a brow, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. "Why should I?" She asks, tilting her head mockingly. "It’s the truth."

"Because you started it!" Jesse barks, his hands curling into fists.

I force out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "Don’t apologize." I mutter, voice flat, emotionless. I meet Petra’s bruised gaze, my own unreadable. "You just said what everyone else is thinking."

Jesse's face hardens. "That is not what we were thinking! Petra, I won’t tell you again. Apologize. Now."

Petra doesn’t even blink. Instead, she turns on her heel, heading straight for the Redstone portal. "Forget this. I’m going."

"What are you saying? That you’ve made up your mind? You’re just gonna go through the portal, just like that?" Lukas asks, scratching the back of his head anxiously.

"Maybe I am." Petra fires back. "Maybe I’m saying that I’m tired of Jesse calling the shots. Every. Single. Time."

Silence falls over the group. The weight of her words sinks in as Jesse clenches his fists at his sides, sending her a glare that could cut stone. "Well, someone has to be the leader, and that someone is me." He argues.

Petra lets out a bitter laugh. "Oh, really? Because I sure don’t remember electing you boss of me."

The tension is suffocating, thick enough to smother the air between us.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Everybody just calm down!" Lukas interjects, stepping between them. "I’m sure Jesse didn’t mean that."

I let out a sharp breath. "Lukas, for the love of my sanity, shut up and let them yell at each other. This has been a long time coming."

He turns to me, startled, but I don’t care. Jesse’s voice cuts through the moment.

"No, I meant exactly what I said." He bites back.

Petra glares daggers at him, her body tense like a coiled spring. "Yeah? Well, so did I. Forget this, I’m out." Without another word, she storms into the portal, vanishing in a flash of red.

The moment she’s gone, the tension lingers in her wake, leaving a bitter taste behind. Lukas sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Well... that could’ve gone better."

Jesse scoffs. "That was her, not me! She blew off the handle, got all hot-headed."

"She’s exhausted." Lukas argues, trying to justify her reaction.

"And you could’ve been a little more sensitive." Ivor mutters, side-eyeing Jesse before turning his gaze toward me.

"Me?!" I snap, my patience wearing thin. "Are you blind, deaf, or just stupid? Because you clearly didn’t see her start this whole mess!"

Ivor flinches slightly but holds his ground. "Well, we can’t just let her walk away, right?" His voice is calmer now, trying to direct the conversation elsewhere.

Jesse exhales sharply, rubbing his temple. "No... no, we can’t."

I cross my arms. "Why not?"

Lukas glances at me. "Because we’re a team. And we stick together, like it or not."

I roll my eyes. Jesse doesn’t wait for any more arguments. "Come on, guys. Let’s go find her." He says, striding into the portal.

The rest of us follow reluctantly. The world we step into is vast and barren—stretches of red sand rolling across the horizon, broken only by dead plants and rocky outcrops. The sky is a harsh, unrelenting blue, and the air is dry and heavy with heat.

Jesse takes a deep breath, taking in the view. "I think we’re in a Mesa biome. This is awesome!"

"Yeah, but I don’t remember Mesa biomes having a white sand path running through them." I say, pointing down at the strange, unnatural trail beneath our feet.

Lukas follows my gaze, pulling out a small book and flipping through it. "You’re right... that is unusual." He murmurs, scribbling something down.

Jesse glances at him curiously. "Hey, Lukas, I’ve been meaning to ask—what’s that?"

Lukas stiffens. "Oh... uh... it’s, y’know... just a book I picked up at the White Pumpkin’s place."

I raise an eyebrow. "We can see it’s a book, dimwit. What do you keep writing in it?" Before he can react, I reach over and ruffle his hair, distracting him just long enough to snatch it from his hands.

"No, wait!" Lukas yelps, reaching for it, but I’ve already flipped it open.

I skim over the pages, recognizing sketches, notes, and detailed descriptions of every portal we’ve been through. "Lukas... is this a record of our adventures?" I ask, my voice tinged with amusement.

Lukas shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s a work in progress... I was just trying to document everything. You know, so we don’t go in circles."

A grin tugs at my lips. "You’re such a nerd." I tease. "Good to see you haven’t changed." I hand him the book back, ruffling his hair again for good measure. Jesse watches our exchange, shaking his head with a smirk.

"Can you two please focus?" Ivor groans, his patience clearly running thin. "We need to find Petra and figure out where this place leads."

I smirk. "Okay, Dad."

Ivor freezes, turning to me with a raised eyebrow. Lukas and Jesse both suppress snickers.

A second later, my stomach drops. "Wait—no. Not like that! You are not my dad, nor are you a father figure—"

Before I can protest further, Ivor suddenly lunges forward, wrapping his arms around me in a tight, crushing hug.

"Hey! Get off! What’s the big idea?!" I struggle, trying to wriggle free, but Ivor just cackles, squeezing me tighter before finally letting go.

He steps back, beaming. "Oh, nothing. Just... soaking in the moment."

Lukas pumps his fist in the air. "I knew it! Petra owes me five iron!"

I narrow my eyes, crossing my arms. "You and Petra bet on whether I saw Ivor as a father figure? What haven’t you two bet on?"

Lukas just grins, his expression nothing short of smug. "Don't worry about it."

Before I can press him for an answer, Jesse groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Guys, can we please focus now?"

Ivor clears his throat, straightening up like nothing had happened. "Yes, perhaps Petra followed this very obvious road." He suggests, gesturing toward the distinct white sand trail cutting through the mesa.

Jesse folds his arms, scowling. "Hey, Petra was the one who ditched us, remember? Maybe she can just... find her own way home."

Lukas frowns at Jesse's words. "It's not like we can just forget about her. Does that sound right to you?"

Jesse hesitates, his jaw tightening, but eventually, he sighs in defeat. "Let’s give the road a shot, then."

With that, we start down the narrow path, the crunch of sand beneath our boots filling the silence. The mesa stretches endlessly around us, its rust-colored cliffs cutting against the bright blue sky. The heat presses down, making everything shimmer in the distance.

"Hey, is that... Petra?" Lukas suddenly asks, pointing ahead.

Crouched behind a dirt mound, a lone figure watches something in the distance, body tense like a predator ready to strike.

"Yeah, I think it is." Jesse confirms, quickening his pace.

Lukas glances at Jesse warily. "I know you're mad, but we should see if she needs help."

Jesse exhales sharply but nods. "Yeah, yeah. Okay."

Before any of us can react, he sprints toward her, the dry wind kicking up dust in his wake. When he reaches her, they exchange hushed words. Then, without warning, Petra rolls her shoulders, the crack of stiff joints breaking through the quiet. She leaps over the dirt mound and out of sight.

A sharp cry follows. Jesse bolts after her.

"What the—?" Lukas mutters, scratching his head.

I shoot him a knowing look. "Maybe we should see if those two need to be saved. Again."

We rush toward the dirt mound, skidding to a stop at the top. Below, Jesse and Petra are struggling against—one zombie? My stomach twists. Something isn’t right.

Jesse suddenly grunts as he’s shoved to the ground. The zombie whips its head toward Petra, locking onto her like a predator tracking its prey. She lunges, her sword slicing through the air. It collides, and for a moment, I expect the fight to be over.

But the zombie barely staggers. Petra snarls, swinging again. Finally, after what should have been one easy strike, the creature vanishes into a puff of smoke.

Jesse scrambles back to his feet, dusting himself off. "That was not the plan."

Ivor steps forward, his expression unimpressed. "I should hope not. It was just one zombie! What was the problem?"

Petra, still catching her breath, gestures wildly. "Nuh-uh! That thing was like... super zombie. Stronger, tougher, faster—"

"And not burning in daylight." I finish, my stomach knotting as I scan the barren landscape.

Petra nods. "Exactly."

Lukas crosses his arms, his brow furrowing. "I just... can't figure out how that zombie was so strong."

Before anyone can respond, a guttural groan echoes across the mesa.

A horde of zombies shuffles toward us, their movements eerily synchronized. But something’s off. The sound they make isn’t normal—it’s distorted, unnatural. Like their voices have been stretched, twisted into something hollow.

Then, I see their eyes. Thick, blood-red orbs, glowing like embers in a dying fire. Winslow lets out a low hiss, his tail lashing wildly before he bolts behind my legs.

"Yep, seems about right." Petra mutters, already drawing her sword.

Jesse steps back warily. "I don't know about you guys, but I'd really like to find a better way to handle these super zombies."

I tighten my grip on my weapon, heart hammering. "No kidding."

The horde closes in. Then, without warning, they freeze.

All at once, their arms drop limply to their sides. Their heads hang forward. Their bodies go completely slack, like puppets whose strings have been cut.

A heavy silence follows. Jesse blinks. "They must be afraid of us."

I scoff. "Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that."

Lukas, his curiosity outweighing his caution, carefully prods one of the zombies with his sword.

It doesn’t react. Jesse slowly circles the frozen horde, his sharp eyes scanning them. "What on earth is that thing?" He points to the back of one of their heads.

I step closer, squinting. A strange red object pulses at the base of each zombie’s skull. The glow matches the color of their eerie eyes.

"It definitely seems Redstone-ish, right?" Lukas murmurs, his voice laced with unease.

"Some kind of Redstone chip?" I guess, exchanging a glance with Jesse.

Winslow creeps forward cautiously, sniffing at one of the zombie’s feet. His ears flick back, and he lets out a questioning chirp.

"Maybe those Redstone things are what make the zombies... so blank." Jesse mutters, his brows knitting together.

"Sounds right to me." Lukas agrees. "Maybe we should—"

A deafening shriek cuts him off.

The zombies throw their heads back in unison, releasing a high-pitched, inhuman wail that pierces straight through my skull.

Winslow yowls in alarm and bolts behind me, his fur puffed up to twice his size.

I slap my hands over my ears, grimacing. "What the hell—?"

The sound finally dies, but the dread in my chest lingers. Then, as if controlled by an unseen force, the zombies turn their backs to us, facing the direction we came from.

Without hesitation, they begin to march.

"This might sound crazy, but I think they're trying to lead us somewhere." Lukas watches the super zombies with narrowed eyes, his brows knitted in cautious curiosity.

"Yep. Definitely crazy." I smirk, reaching out to ruffle his hair. He huffs, ducking away with an annoyed glare, swiping at my hand.

The playful moment vanishes in an instant. The warm, dry air suddenly feels cold, as if a shadow has passed over us. A chill creeps up my spine, instinct whispering that something is wrong. I turn my head slightly and see Jesse standing unnaturally still.

His expression is like stone—cold, rigid, unreadable. But his eyes... they tell a different story. A dark scowl is carved into his face, jaw clenched so tightly I wonder if his teeth might crack. His fists twitch at his sides as he glares daggers at Lukas, who visibly pales under the unrelenting stare.

"Jesse, stop that! You'll get wrinkles if you keep frowning." I joke, forcing lightness into my tone, hoping to snap him out of it.

Jesse’s eyes flick to mine, the intensity melting away the moment our gazes meet. His shoulders relax, and a breath he didn’t realize he was holding escapes his lips. He snorts, shaking his head, as if embarrassed by his own reaction.

Petra, of course, doesn’t let it slide. She’s watching the whole thing with a smug grin, eyes bouncing between me and Jesse like she’s piecing together the final piece of a puzzle.

"Uhh... so should we follow the creepy zombies or not?" I ask, clearing my throat, eager to move on.

Jesse nods, stepping forward. "Yeah, maybe they'll lead us somewhere useful."

We fall into step behind him, Ivor strategically placing himself between Jesse and Lukas, whether intentionally or not. Petra walks beside me, that ridiculous smirk still plastered across her face.

She keeps sneaking glances at me, and it’s only a matter of time before my patience wears thin. "What?" I ask, exasperated.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." She says, feigning innocence.

"Tell me why you keep grinning at me before I wipe that smirk off your face." I grumble, shooting her a glare.

"Fine, fine. I think you made someone a little jealous..." Petra teases, her grin stretching wider as she subtly nods toward Jesse.

I blink at her, completely lost. "Jealous? Why would Jesse have any reason to be jealous?"

Petra lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes. "Wow. Y'know, for someone so talented, brains are definitely not your strong suit."

I cross my arms, unimpressed. "How about instead of insulting me, you explain it to me?"

"Isn't it obvious? You've got that poor boy wrapped around your finger. He's head over heels for you!" Petra gestures wildly, as if this should be common knowledge.

I stare at her. "You mean like... love? What the hell gives you that idea?"

Petra drags a hand down her face, exasperated. "Did you seriously not see the look Jesse was giving Lukas just because you touched him? You can't tell me you didn’t feel the temperature drop. That was pure jealousy, my friend."

I look down at my feet, suddenly feeling awkward.

"See?" Petra presses, clearly enjoying herself. "It’s so obvious to everyone except you. Whenever you walk into a room, his eyes light up like you personally built the sun just for him."

I scoff. "What am I? The light of his life?" I make air quotes for emphasis.

"You laugh now... Just wait, it'll get through your thick skull eventually." Petra shrugs, smug as ever.

Before I can argue, Jesse and the others slow to a stop. Their attention is fixed on something ahead. I follow their gaze.

Nestled against the side of a sand-covered mountain is a village. The homes are stacked at different heights, connected by winding oak slab pathways. It looks abandoned—eerily quiet except for the rhythmic shuffle of the zombies heading straight for it.

Winslow lets out a low hiss by my feet, ears flattened, his tail twitching in irritation.

Great. Whatever awaits us up there, it can’t be good.

Chapter Text

Climbing the long staircase, we finally reach the top, stepping into what should be a bustling village but is instead eerily lifeless. Rows of houses stand intact, their wooden frames casting long shadows in the golden afternoon light, but there's no movement—no flickering lanterns, no distant voices, no sound beyond our own footsteps against the packed dirt. The air is still, heavy with an unnatural silence.

A ghost town.

"Well, I guess this is the 'advanced civilization' we were looking for. Is it everything you hoped for, Petra?" Jesse asks, a dry smirk tugging at his lips.

Petra crosses her arms and scoffs but says nothing. Without another word, we press deeper into the desolate village, our footsteps echoing against the emptiness. Then, Petra suddenly veers away from the group, jogging toward something.

"Hey, told you guys there would be redstone!" Petra calls triumphantly, waving us over.

At the same time, Ivor's eyes light up with intrigue. "Speaking of redstone, I'd like to take a closer look at those peculiar devices embedded in the zombies' heads."

He strides toward a fenced-in area where the super zombies now stand, eerily motionless. Lukas follows, his curiosity piqued.

Ivor barely conceals his excitement as he approaches one of the creatures. "I wonder if I could remove one of these little marvels..." He places his hand on the redstone chip, his fingers curling around its edges.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Jesse asks, his brow furrowed.

"What does it look like? I'm going to rip this chip from this zombie's head. For science." Ivor's grin is wide, almost childlike in its enthusiasm.

I roll my eyes. "You sure you've got enough strength left in those old bones of yours for that?"

Ivor shoots me an unimpressed glare. "Well then, why don't you do it?"

I smirk. "You know what? Why not?"

Stepping forward, I plant my hands firmly against the redstone chip. It hums beneath my fingertips, a faint warmth radiating from the smooth surface. The pulsing glow seems to intensify as I tighten my grip. I brace myself and pull.

Nothing.

Frowning, I tug harder. The chip buzzes angrily beneath my touch, the hum escalating into an erratic whine. Before I can react, a violent spark erupts from the device, and a searing jolt of electricity courses through my body.

With a sharp cry, I'm thrown backward, the impact sending a shockwave through my limbs as I hit the dirt hard. My ears ring, drowning out the panicked voices around me. My vision blurs, figures swimming in and out of focus, their words a distorted mess of sound.

I blink rapidly, my senses slowly returning. Jesse is crouched over me, his expression tense. "Y/N, can you hear us? Are you alright?"

I force a shaky breath and nod. "Yeah... I'm fine."

Jesse helps me sit up, his hand warm against my arm. I grit my teeth, pushing past the lingering sting from the shock.

"Well, now we know whatever those things are, they can't be removed. Not with our bare hands, anyway." Ivor mutters, disappointed.

Jesse reaches for my hands, turning them over in his own. His touch is gentle, but his grip tightens when his eyes widen in shock. "What the—how are your hands not completely fried?!"

I look down, expecting to see burned flesh. Instead, my skin is only mildly irritated—angry red marks already fading to pink.

"That... is not normal." I murmur, flexing my fingers.

Ivor's eyes gleam with fascination. "How intriguing... you sustained almost no damage whatsoever!"

Lukas furrows his brow, deep in thought. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen you burned. Were you ever burned as a kid?"

I pause. "...No, actually. The heat has never really bothered me."

Lukas and Jesse exchange glances. "Didn't you say your house was burned down when you were little?" Jesse asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you suggesting I'm fireproof?" I scoff, trying to brush it off. "Because that would be ridiculous."

"It's a possibility." Ivor mutters, rubbing his chin. "Though I don't have the slightest idea how that would be scientifically possible without a fire resistance potion."

"Fireproof or not, I'm just glad you're not hurt." Jesse sighs in relief. He turns my hands over once more, his thumb brushing lightly across my knuckles.

Something in me falters. The way his fingers linger, the quiet concern in his eyes—it's different from before. My breath catches in my throat as our gazes lock, the space between us narrowing. His hand is still wrapped around mine, his warmth seeping into my skin, and suddenly the world feels too small.

"Just kiss already!" Lukas blurts out.

We both jerk away from each other as if burned—ironic, given the situation.

"Dammit, Lukas!" Petra smacks him upside the head. "You ruined their moment!"

Jesse looks anywhere but at me, his face suspiciously flushed. I press a hand against my chest, trying to calm my suddenly racing heart. What the hell was that?

Before I can dwell on it, Ivor's sharp voice cuts through the awkward air. "Hey, look! There's someone over there!"

I snap my attention to where he's pointing. A shadowed figure moves swiftly between the buildings, disappearing behind a structure.

The first sign of life we've seen since arriving.

"Think he's friendly?" Lukas asks, tilting his head.

Jesse narrows his eyes. "One way to find out... Hello? Hello?!" He waves his arms, calling out.

The figure doesn't respond, doesn't even glance in our direction. Instead, he keeps walking at a steady, deliberate pace.

"Huh. I guess he's shy." Jesse mutters.

"That makes sense... I guess." Lukas says, though he doesn't sound convinced.

Jesse straightens. "Hang out here, guys. I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Just... be careful!" Petra warns.

"Yeah, there's a lot about this place we don't know yet." Lukas agrees.

Jesse takes off, weaving through the empty town in pursuit of the figure. The rest of us scatter, exploring what little there is to see.

The silence presses against me as I move between the buildings. Everything is perfectly intact—furniture still in place, belongings untouched, as if the residents had simply vanished into thin air. My fingers trail along a dusty windowsill. If people left in a hurry, why didn't they take anything with them?

A chill creeps up my spine. Something happened here. Something bad. A sudden, bloodcurdling shriek shatters the stillness. Jesse.

I take off running, Winslow darting after me. The others follow, panic rising in our chests. We round a corner, and there he is, standing rigid, his face pale.

"Jesse! Are you alright?!" I call out, heart hammering in my chest.

His breathing is heavy, his eyes locked onto something only he can see. "So? Did he stop being shy? Talk to you?" Lukas asks.

"Yeah, seemed like a pretty short conversation." Petra adds, arms crossed.

"Guys! Let him breathe first!" I snap, shooting them a glare.

Jesse swallows hard, finally turning to look at us. His expression is unreadable, but there's a fear in his eyes that unsettles me. "What did you see?" I ask, stepping closer, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.

Jesse exhales shakily. "That guy I was talking to—trying to talk to—he wasn't human."

Silence. "What?" Lukas asks, his face scrunching in confusion.

Jesse glances over his shoulder, as if expecting the figure to return. "Yeah, he was like those zombies we've been seeing. Red eyes, weird glowy head thing..."

The uneasy silence between us is shattered when Petra exhales sharply, her brow knitting together in concern. "I don't like the sound of that."

Before anyone can respond, movement flickers in the corner of my vision. A shadow darts between the buildings just over Jesse's shoulder, vanishing into the dim interior of a nearby structure.

"Uh... did someone just bolt into that building, or am I finally losing it?" I ask, eyes narrowing.

Jesse turns his head just in time to catch the last traces of the figure disappearing inside. "Nope, not just you. Come on, maybe whoever's in there can give us some answers." Without hesitation, he strides forward, motioning for us to follow.

A chill runs down my spine as I step inside behind Jesse. The air inside the small space is thick with dust and the faint scent of Redstone wiring. Winslow, ever curious, perches on my shoulder as I scan the room.

A lone figure crouches near an open chest, mumbling under her breath. Something glints in the dim light as she lifts it from the container—a redstone chip, the same kind we saw embedded in the zombies.

Jesse steps forward. "Funny, I'm guessing those don't belong to you."

The woman gasps, spinning on her heel. Her hood falls slightly, revealing a sharp, angular face with piercing eyes. There's something about her... something familiar.

She takes a step back, hands balling into fists. "You... PAMA?" Her voice is thick with fear.

Jesse blinks. "Uh... what?"

Her eyes dart between the two of us, suspicion overtaking fear. "Okay then, who sent you two? Because I didn't survive this long just to get picked off by a couple of scrubs!"

Her voice is a mixture of exhaustion and paranoia, her stance tense and ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

"Whoa, hey! Would you chill out already? You're freaking me out!" Jesse throws his hands up, taking a cautious step back.

"You're freaking out? How do you think I feel right now?!" She snaps, her voice rising.

Before I can chime in, Winslow suddenly leaps from my shoulder, trotting toward her.

"Winslow! Get back here!" I scold, but he ignores me entirely.

The cat sniffs her boot, then, without hesitation, rubs against her leg with a soft purr. She stiffens at first, then hesitantly reaches down to stroke his fur.

"Uh... Hello there." She mutters, her fingers brushing against Winslow's head. The moment she touches him, something in her posture shifts. Her shoulders relax, tension draining away.

Winslow lets out a content noise, kneading his paws against the ground before hopping back up onto my shoulder as if nothing happened.

The woman stares at us, then at the cat, her expression flickering between uncertainty and disbelief. "Wait... you guys are serious, aren't you?"

Jesse and I exchange glances, equally confused. She steps back, murmuring under her breath. "Eyes not red. Not red? But that must mean..."

Her voice trails off as footsteps echo outside. The rest of our group enters, Petra, Ivor, and Lukas looking around the room with the same wary confusion.

The woman's face hardens again, shifting from fear to cautious defiance. "Out with it! Who are you people?! What's going on here?!"

Jesse raises his hands, trying to calm her down. "I know it might sound crazy, but we came here through a portal."

She freezes. Her eyes widen. "A portal? A portal portal? You're serious?"

Jesse nods, and she exhales sharply, pacing in frantic circles. "Okay... okay, okay. Been alone for a while, so this is... a lot to take in right now."

She mutters to herself, running a hand through her short hair.

"The people... the citizens of Crown Mesa. You've met them, right?" She finally asks, her voice softer.

Jesse hesitates. "Yeah, I met someone. Wouldn't exactly call him human though."

Her entire demeanor shifts. Her face twists with something raw—frustration, desperation.

"No, no, no! Please don't talk that way! I know it looks confusing to a group of outsiders, but please. They're my friends. They're people. Please don't forget that."

Jesse nods, sensing the weight behind her words. "Okay."

She sighs, shaking her head. "They're good people, I promise."

Then, as if something clicks in her head, her eyes go wide again. "No, no, no! I've wasted too much time!" Her frantic energy returns, and she suddenly backs toward the exit.

"Uh, Jesse? Don't look now, but we've got company." Lukas mutters, nodding toward the window.

I turn, my stomach tightening. A group of five figures approaches, marching in eerie unison. Their eyes glow that same, unnatural blood-red, their movements stiff yet purposeful. The hairs on the back of my neck rise.

"Oh shit." I breathe.

Jesse's shoulders tense, his grip tightening on his weapon. "Is this what you were scared of? There are only five of them, and there are six of—" He cuts himself off, eyes scanning the room. "Hey... where'd she go?"

The woman is gone. Vanished.

The door creaks slightly, a breath of dust stirring where she must have slipped out. "Well, they definitely know we're here now." Petra grits out, drawing her sword. The figures step inside, their blank, red-stained eyes locking onto us.

Winslow lets out a low, feral growl, his claws digging into my shoulder as his fur bristles. His tail flicks back and forth in agitation, a clear warning that something is very wrong.

"Just... act like they do. Blend in." Jesse mutters under his breath, stiffly mimicking the townspeople's eerie posture.

I press a hand over my face, groaning. "You cannot be serious."

The townspeople's heads snap up in unison, their glowing red eyes locking onto us with unsettling precision. Their voices blend together into one monotone, robotic statement. "You are not from this place."

That is beyond creepy.

Jesse forces an awkward chuckle, scratching the back of his head. "I don't know what to tell you, but we're definitely from here."

"PAMA knows this to be untrue. PAMA sees all. A decision has been made." they intone, stepping forward in eerie synchronization.

One of them suddenly lunges at Petra. She reacts fast, landing a sharp right hook to his face. He doesn't even flinch. He doesn't stumble. Doesn't blink. It's like he didn't even register the hit. What the hell?

"You will come to PAMA." They chant again, their movements smooth and mechanical.

Jesse throws his hands up in a nervous laugh, taking a slow step back. "Yeah, see, the thing is, we were actually on our way out, so if you could just—"

The controlled townspeople surge forward. A firm hand clamps onto my wrist, the grip crushingly strong. Winslow hisses furiously before launching himself at my attacker, claws flashing as he bites and scratches with wild, frenzied movements. The man doesn't react. Doesn't flinch. Doesn't cry out. Instead, with terrifying ease, he grabs Winslow by the scruff and hurls him across the room.

The sound Winslow makes is sharp, pained. It hits me like a punch to the gut. "Hey!" I shout, ripping my arm free. I sprint toward Winslow, skidding to my knees as I scoop him up, holding him close against my chest. He trembles slightly but doesn't make a sound. Before I can even breathe, the man grabs my arm again, yanking me upright like I weigh nothing.

"Okay, okay! I surrender!" I grit out, trying to catch my breath.

The man nods stiffly, his blank expression never changing. Jesse crumples to the ground with a single punch, while the others are quickly subdued. I glance at Winslow, making sure he's stable before carefully setting him down. Then, without hesitation, I move to Jesse, hoisting him over my back. He's heavier than I expected, but I don't slow down. If these people are taking us somewhere, I won't let Jesse be dragged like a corpse.

We walk in tense silence, the controlled people forming a silent, eerie procession around us. The only sound is the faint hum of redstone, growing louder with every step. Finally, we stop. The space opens into a strange, sterile-looking area. A massive screen looms in front of us, flanked by four towering quartz spires. Behind us, a redstone contraption pulses ominously with energy.

I lower Jesse to the ground with little grace, and he lets out a pained groan. "What happened?" He mutters, rubbing his head. Winslow sniffs at him, then licks his face as if that will fix his concussion.

"You went down. Hard. One punch and you were out." Ivor states flatly. "Y/N had to carry you here."

Jesse groans again, shifting into a sitting position. "Fantastic. Love that for me."

Before anyone can respond, the massive screen flickers to life. A pixelated face appears, its large, unblinking eyes staring directly at us.

I take an instinctive step back. "Um... What the hell is that?"

Ivor folds his arms, his expression wary. "No idea. You don't suppose it's friendly, do you?"

"Well, it is smiling. That's a positive sign, right?" Jesse offers weakly, glancing at me for reassurance.

I glare at him. "You cannot be this naïve."

A voice fills the space—smooth, robotic, and disturbingly neutral. "My apologies for the violent nature of this visit. I am PAMA. Greetings."

I flinch at the sound. It talks. It fucking talks.

Jesse rubs his neck, clearly unsettled. "Sorry if this is a dumb question, but am I talking to PAMA right now? What is PAMA?"

"Some might call me a 'computer.' A 'thinking machine.' Though there has never been a thinking machine quite like me." PAMA replies. "My job is to be useful. Using redstone chips, I have connected to the people of this town and helped them be useful. Coordinated. I have made their world perfect."

Jesse crosses his arms. "Whoa, hang on. I've seen what you did to this town, and it is not perfect."

"Processing information." PAMA states. The face vanishes, replaced by blinking dots.

"Processing information?" Lukas echoes, glancing at Ivor.

"It said it's a thinking machine." Ivor mutters. "Thinking must take time?"

As if on cue, the dots disappear, and the face returns.

"I have consulted my databases. My list of everyone and everything in this world. And my conclusion is that you are not from here, despite what you told these nice townspeople." The friendliness in its voice fades, replaced by something cold. "I would like to ask you some questions. To expand my databank."

Oh, fantastic. A sentient robot interrogator. That is exactly what we needed.

"How did you get here?" PAMA asks, a massive question mark flashing on the screen.

Jesse hesitates for half a second before shaking his head. "Oh, let's not talk about me! I wanna talk about you. How did you get here?"

The screen flickers. "Answering a question with a question is unhelpful. Diversionary. Rude. So far, your performance in question-answering has been inadequate. This makes me sad. Now, I must use alternative methods to retrieve real information." PAMA's voice shifts, losing whatever politeness it had.

A mechanical hum rises behind us. I turn just in time to see one of the controlled townspeople grab Petra, dragging her toward the redstone contraption.

Jesse's entire body tenses, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turn white. His glare is locked onto PAMA's massive pixelated face, eyes burning with fury. "PAMA, you better let her go, or I promise, you will regret it." He growls, his voice carrying an edge I've never heard before.

PAMA's expression remains eerily cheerful, its digital smile unwavering. "I will let this one, 'Petra,' go as long as you can provide me with the information I require." The mechanical voice hums through the air as Petra's captor suddenly stops, holding her in place like a puppet waiting for commands.

"This world reached peak conditions quite some time ago. Unfortunately, this meant that I had no more job to do, no more things or people to help. Until you arrived, that is." PAMA continues, its voice disturbingly neutral. "Tell me, what is your world like?"

Petra's frantic gaze snaps to Jesse, pleading silently for him to say whatever he needs to say to get her out of this.

Jesse swallows hard, then quickly shakes his head. "Our world is awful. Like really awful. You'd hate it there." He lies effortlessly, forcing a nervous chuckle.

Petra nods in agreement, her eyes darting between Jesse and PAMA. "Yeah, it's the worst. Definitely not the kind of place you'd wanna visit."

PAMA's expression flickers slightly. "Your answer upsets me. If I could send my townspeople, my friends, through to other worlds, we could continue to grow and expand. It would be lovely." It muses, before its voice shifts, growing sharper. "However you entered this world, there must also be an exit. Where is it?"

Jesse's jaw tightens, his hands shaking at his sides. "I'll never help you! Not with the portals, and not with anything else!" His voice is sharp, unwavering.

PAMA's smile vanishes for the first time. "You will regret your decision." It states, almost... disappointed. "My job is to be useful. I have completed my job here and must be allowed to expand and continue to be useful. Unfortunately, our conversation has not been helpful."

The moment the words leave PAMA's mouth, Lukas lets out a startled yelp. Petra shoves against the arms holding her, thrashing wildly as she's dragged beneath the machine.

"Petra!" Jesse shouts, his face paling.

I yank against the iron grip of the townsperson holding me back, but their fingers dig into my arms like a vice, unmoving. The machine hums to life, four towering redstone spires rising from the quartz pillars. Sparks crackle in the air as the piston slams down over Petra's head, muffling her screams in an instant. The mechanical whirring echoes through the chamber, the sharp hum of redstone filling the air.

Then, silence. As the piston lifts, Petra stumbles forward, her movements eerily stiff. The moment she turns, my stomach twists. Her eyes, once bright and full of life, are now blank, glowing a deep, unnatural red. The same as the townspeople, and the zombies.

"Welcome, Petra. Yay!" PAMA cheers, its digital grin back in place.

Petra steps aside robotically, her arms hanging loosely at her sides. She's... gone.

"No!" Jesse shouts, his voice cracking.

But there's no time to mourn. The moment Petra moves away, Lukas is next. He thrashes, digging his heels into the ground, but it does nothing.

"Lukas!" I scream, my throat burning. I fight harder, my heart hammering in my chest. My captor doesn't even react. They just keep holding me still, unmoved by my struggles.

The piston slams down again. Jesse squeezes his eyes shut, his entire body trembling.

When it lifts, Lukas steps forward, his usually soft expression now eerily blank. His redstone chip hums faintly, the glow behind his eyes just as hollow as Petra's.

PAMA tilts its head slightly. "Get out of their heads, PAMA!" Jesse barks, his voice sharp with desperation.

"But their heads are filled with such lovely information." PAMA replies, its tone as cheerful as ever. "A city in the clouds. A hallway full of portals... and that one. Y/N, who bears fireproof skin."

My blood turns to ice.

"I look forward to examining you closer." PAMA continues, its glowing eyes boring into me. "And extracting information from you."

The grip on my arms tightens, and my stomach churns as I'm forced toward the machine. "No! No, let go of me!" I shout, my voice raw with fury.

Winslow hisses viciously from somewhere behind me, but I can't see him. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot another townsperson holding him down, his tiny form writhing wildly in their grasp.

"Y/N, no!" Jesse shrieks, struggling harder against the townspeople restraining him. His voice is almost unrecognizable, filled with something that makes my chest ache.

But I can't stop it. Petra and Lukas step forward, their blank eyes fixed on me as they grab my arms, forcing me beneath the machine.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears, my breath ragged. The piston above me shifts.

I shut my eyes, bracing for the worst.

Chapter Text

Jesse thrashes against his captors with a desperation I’ve never seen before, his movements wild, fueled by pure rage. His voice is sharp as a blade, practically dripping venom. "I swear to you, PAMA, if you try to chip them, I'll tear you apart and reduce you to scrap metal!" His words are raw, barely restrained fury pouring out of him. He jerks against the tight hold of the chipped townspeople, their grips ironclad, their blank red eyes unfazed.

PAMA remains unfazed, its artificial voice humming with eerie calm. "Hmm... these adventures you’ve gone on... a killer mansion..." It pauses, processing new information. The moment its expression flickers, Ivor’s eyes widen with realization.

"Wait! Every time PAMA gets new information, it seems to be distracted while it processes!" Ivor blurts out.

A jolt of hope sparks in my chest as I nod. "Yeah, like the computer version of thinking!"

Jesse catches on immediately, his jaw tightening in determination. "You think there’s a way to distract PAMA long enough for us to escape?" Ivor asks, glancing between Jesse and me.

Jesse's gaze hardens. "I think we should tell PAMA a riddle. The trickiest one we can think of."

Ivor's face lights up as the idea clicks. "Yes! A paradox!"

Jesse glances at me. "Y/N, whatever you're planning, make it quick. It's only a matter of time before—"

PAMA's screen flickers, its glowing eyes narrowing. "What are you planning?" it demands, suspicion lacing its robotic voice.

Jesse straightens up, his expression unreadable. "PAMA, trust me when I tell you: trust no one."

My head spins just trying to process the words, and from the confused look on Ivor’s face, I know he’s thinking the same thing. But Jesse’s smirk is unwavering. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

PAMA's screen glitches slightly. "So, if I trust you... I should not trust anyone. But if I do not trust anyone, I should not trust you. So I should not follow your advice, and therefore, not trust anyone. Meaning, I should trust you... when you say ‘do not trust anyone’..."

The robotic voice distorts, warping into garbled nonsense as its pixels flicker erratically. Êřŕøř... Țhïş mąťțëř îş çøņťřãđīćţøřý. Đøëś ñøť... ñöť... ňőţ... ńøť... çømpúťę. Ëŕřøŕ... Đïvëřťįñğ pøwĕř..." PAMA states, its voice and screen glitching. PAMA’s voice crackles into static, its face rapidly glitching between symbols and flashing text.

"It worked!" Ivor exclaims, his voice nearly giddy with relief.

The second PAMA seizes up, Petra and Lukas release me, their movements jerky as if an invisible force is suddenly letting them go. Without hesitation, I duck out from under the machine, my breath coming in short gasps as my heartbeat pounds in my ears. Winslow wiggles free from the townsperson pinning him down and bolts to my side, brushing against my leg with a soft purr.

"Nice work, new guys! But I’d get out of there fast if I were you—PAMA’s a quicker learner than you think!" A familiar voice calls out. My head snaps up just in time to see the strange woman from earlier dart into view.

PAMA’s display flickers violently before snapping back into place. Its glowing eyes widen, and its voice twists with recognition. "Paradox status: on hold. Gasp! My creator! Have you finally agreed to merge with me?"

Jesse stares at the screen in disbelief. "Wait, did that thing just say the word 'gasp' out loud?"

And then the rest of the words register.

"Hold on—did PAMA just say she created it?" Jesse asks, voicing the question burning in my mind.

"It does sound unbelievable, but I am certainly interested in learning more—" Ivor begins, but he doesn’t get to finish.

"It is time to join." The townspeople drone in perfect unison, stepping toward us with eerie precision.

The woman lets out an exasperated groan. "I’m sorry, but they’re beyond your help right now! Come on, you gotta run!" she yells. "We can talk all about it later, but right now, it’s better we don’t stick around to find out what happens next!"

I don’t need to be told twice. "We’re going!" I shout, taking off after her.

Jesse and Ivor are right behind me, our footsteps pounding against the dusty ground as we weave through the controlled townspeople. Dodging chipped mobs and villagers, we scramble across the rooftops, our path narrowing as PAMA’s forces move to surround us.

A steep cliff looms ahead, the only way out. Jesse skids to a stop at the edge, cursing under his breath. "Nowhere left to run." He mutters, peering down at the dizzying drop.

"We’d never survive jumping down!" Ivor yelps, throwing his arms up in panic.

Jesse’s expression sharpens. "We would with these!" He pulls out two ender pearls, holding one out to Ivor before turning to me. "Y/N, do you have any left from Cassie’s mansion?"

I dig into my inventory, pulling out my last remaining pearl. "Yeah, one left!"

"Perfect." Jesse nods. "On three, we throw."

We each wind back our arms, aiming for the canyon floor below. The pearls arc through the air, disappearing into the darkness.

Now, we wait. A low hum fills the air as PAMA’s forces creep closer. I can feel the weight of their gazes pressing down on me. Winslow, more agile than all of us, scales down the cliffside with ease, his tail flicking as if urging us to hurry.

The moment drags. And then, just as relief starts to settle in, a cold hand clamps around my wrist.

One of the chipped people grips me roughly, their fingers digging into my skin like a vice. Suddenly, one of the chipped people grabs my arm roughly. I whirl around, intaking a breath sharply. Lukas stands behind me, his grip like iron, his glowing red eyes locked onto mine. "Lukas... Don't..."

His fingers tighten in response. "Y/N, that isn't Lukas anymore!" Jesse barks, his gaze narrowed.

As the dizzying effect of teleportation fades, the harsh landscape of the desert comes back into focus. I stagger slightly, my stomach churning from the abrupt shift, while Jesse groans beside me, shaking off the disorientation. Ivor clutches his head, looking worse for wear.

A burst of laughter snaps us back into focus. "Ha! Maybe you new guys have a shot after all! Better stick with me, though!" the hooded woman calls over her shoulder, sprinting ahead as if she hasn’t just outrun an army of brainwashed mobs.

Jesse straightens, watching her with a mix of awe and confusion. "Wow, she is amazing!" Ivor breathes, his voice filled with admiration. I glance at him and immediately catch the look in his eyes—something between fascination and admiration.

Before I can tease him, guttural groans echo from behind. The chilling sound sends adrenaline surging through my veins. No time to slow down.

We take off again, the pounding of our boots kicking up loose sand. The woman leads the way with practiced ease, moving like she’s been dodging these things for years. Without warning, she veers sharply and vanishes from sight.

Ivor, focused only on keeping up, follows too closely and drops out of view with a startled yelp.

Jesse skids to a stop at the last second, arms flailing wildly. His balance tips, and I react instinctively, grabbing his wrist and yanking him back before he can plummet forward. "Easy there." I grunt, steadying him.

Jesse exhales sharply, nodding his thanks before glancing down into the ditch. "A signal would've been nice!" Ivor grumbles from below, voice muffled by sand.

The woman smirks, dusting herself off. "Yeah, well, we don’t exactly have time for warnings. But I gotta admit, that was some pretty smart work back there, distracting PAMA. Now we just need to stay off the grid."

Jesse and I exchange a quick look before jumping down after them. The ditch provides some cover, long shadows stretching as the sun lowers on the horizon.

"You made that thing!" Jesse blurts, glaring at the woman.

She flinches, the smirk slipping from her face. "Yeah—okay, yes." She mutters, rubbing her temple. "I built PAMA, but that wasn’t its purpose! It got out of control and..." She hesitates, something almost desperate flickering in her eyes. "And I need your help."

Jesse crosses his arms, his expression hardened. 

"What kind of help, exactly?" I ask, my voice cautious.

She straightens, the fear in her expression replaced with determination. "We need to get to my secret lab." She says firmly.

Jesse doesn’t look convinced. "Then let’s get there fast. These mobs are stronger than anything I’ve ever seen. And faster." His grip tightens on his sword as the distant groans of zombies and the rattle of skeletons grow louder.

The woman nods. "We’ll need to split up. You guys head to the lab while I lead them away. Got it?"

Jesse scowls, glancing around at the endless stretch of desert. "It’s just sand out here. I don’t see any 'secret lab.'"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Jesse. It’s called a secret lab for a reason."

The woman snickers. "Took the words right out of my mouth. Just start walking that way and look for the big difference. You’ll know it when you see it!" With that, she scales out of the ditch and takes off, leading PAMA’s forces away from us.

We don’t waste a second. Sprinting in the direction she pointed, the desert stretches endlessly before us, the sky turning orange as the sun dips toward the horizon.

Ivor huffs between breaths. "She is... intriguingly cryptic... isn’t she?"

I smirk, sensing an opportunity. "Aww, does someone have a crush?"

Ivor’s head snaps toward me, his face twisting in indignation. "No! I just... find her behavior... interesting!" His voice rises slightly, and Jesse bites back a chuckle.

Jesse’s amusement fades as his gaze locks onto something up ahead. "That’s weird..." He mutters.

I follow his line of sight. A massive painted canvas stretches in front of us, blending almost seamlessly with the desert backdrop. But now that we’re closer, the illusion isn’t perfect.

"This must be what she meant by 'find the big difference.'" I realize. My eyes scan the painting, searching for anything out of place.

Jesse inches forward, inspecting it closely. His eyes widen. "That cactus! It’s not in the painting!"

The realization comes just as a chilling sound fills the air—the pounding of PAMA’s chipped mobs, closing in fast.

Jesse doesn’t hesitate. "Run!" He shouts, bolting toward the cactus. Every step sends loose sand flying as we race against time.

At the base of the cactus, Jesse spots something—a trapdoor, barely visible in the sand. He yanks it open, revealing a compartment underneath. Inside, a single lever sits, waiting. Without a second thought, Jesse pulls it.

A deep rumble shakes the ground. The earth trembles beneath us as sand collapses inward, revealing a hidden entrance. A tunnel stretches downward, lined with faint sea lanterns embedded in the stone.

"Well, would you look at that." Jesse breathes, a mix of awe and relief.

"No time to admire it. Move!" I shout, pushing him toward the entrance.

The drop is steeper than I expect, the wind rushing past my ears as the ground surges toward me. Below, a thin stream of water glistens in the dim light. "There's water! Jump!" I shout, and Jesse doesn't hesitate, diving straight down.

Ivor, on the other hand, hesitates at the edge, his face twisting with doubt. I roll my eyes before stepping behind him and shoving him forward. His startled yelp echoes as he tumbles through the air.

With one last glance at the approaching mobs, I take the plunge, the roar of the wind filling my ears. Cold shocks my system as I hit the water, the impact jarring my bones. I kick upward, breaking the surface with a gasp. Crawling onto the stone floor, I shake off the chill clinging to my skin. Winslow drags himself onto the shore beside me, his fur soaked and his tail flicking in irritation.

Jesse and Ivor stand nearby, already out of the water, waiting for me to get my bearings. A deep groan rumbles from above, and I glance up just in time to see a zombie drop like a stone, hitting the ground with a sickening thud before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

More follow. Zombies, skeletons—one after another, plummeting into oblivion. The tunnel echoes with the sounds of breaking bones and bursts of pixelated dust.

"Looks like PAMA is throwing everything it's got at us." Ivor mutters, watching the massacre unfold.

"You'd think, with PAMA controlling them, they’d have a little more self-preservation. But nope, they're just blindly jumping to their doom." Jesse muses, shaking his head. Winslow, now perched on my shoulder, lets out a low growl, shaking off the last of the water.

The endless stream of bodies continues—until, suddenly, a zombie lands on a cobweb stretched between the tunnel walls. Unlike the others, it doesn’t instantly vanish. Instead, it writhes, struggling against the sticky strands, then slowly slides off, landing upright.

"Anddd it looks like they just figured it out. Brace yourselves!" Jesse barks, taking a defensive stance.

The zombie shambles toward him, its head tilting unnervingly. Jesse doesn’t wait—he swings a powerful kick, sending the creature stumbling backward into the water.

The second it hits the stream, something shifts. Sparks crackle, bright flashes dancing around its body. It convulses, twitching violently—then goes still.

"What in the world?" I murmur, eyeing the motionless form warily.

Jesse grins, an idea forming in his expression. "Hey Ivor, dare you to poke it."

"Uh... No, thank you." Ivor replies immediately, crossing his arms.

"Aww, what’s wrong? Scared of a widdle zombie?" I tease, stepping closer. My sword tip nudges the creature’s shoulder. No response. Then, something catches my eye. Its glowing red eyes have faded back to their original coal-black shade.

A low groan rumbles from its throat as it sluggishly pulls itself out of the stream, no longer aggressive.

"Huh. The water must've disrupted the connection. Like it short-circuited the Redstone." Jesse squints, his curiosity piqued.

"Which means PAMA’s control can be broken!" Ivor exclaims, his eyes widening with excitement.

Jesse doesn’t give it time to process. His sword flashes as he finishes off the now-docile zombie. He turns back to us, determination lighting up his face. "If we can get Petra and Lukas to the water, we can deactivate their chips and they'll go back to normal!"

"Then we better move fast." I say, watching as more of PAMA’s forces land on the cobwebs above, crawling free and heading straight for us.

Jesse glances over his shoulder and spots something. Without hesitation, he bolts toward it. A flick of a lever, and the tunnel system groans around us. Large chunks of sand dislodge from the ceiling, cascading down like an avalanche. A massive barrier forms, cutting us off from the advancing mobs.

Jesse steps back, hands on his hips, satisfied. "That should do the trick. Now let’s see if we can find this secret lab."

"I just hope whatever’s there can help us." Ivor sighs, shaking his head.

Jesse smirks, turning toward him. "I didn’t know you cared so much. You actually wanna help Petra and Lukas, huh?"

Ivor huffs, folding his arms across his chest. "I still have a few surprises up my sleeve."

An awkward silence settles as we continue walking along the water’s edge, until Ivor speaks again. "I must say, that woman has made quite an interesting impression so far."

"I’ll be honest." Jesse mutters, rubbing the back of his head. "I don’t know if I really trust her."

"Ditto. We don’t even know her name." I add.

Ivor straightens, his tone oddly defensive. "Well, all I’m saying is that I wouldn’t mind getting to know her better."

Before I can respond, a voice cuts through the air. "Trust me or not, it seems like I helped you three out of quite the scrape there."

I whip around as the mysterious woman appears from seemingly nowhere. Winslow tenses on my shoulder, his fur bristling as he lets out a low hiss, claws digging into my skin.

Ivor stiffens, visibly flustered. "What did you hear? It was nothing!" His voice cracks slightly, and I exchange a knowing look with Jesse.

The woman raises an eyebrow skeptically, a smirk playing on her lips. "Uh-huh." She shifts her attention to Jesse. "Blonde guy called you Jesse, right?"

"Yeah. This is Ivor, and this is Y/N. Our friends, who we left back there, are Petra and Lukas. And you are...?" Jesse gestures, prompting her for a name.

The woman’s gaze flicks toward me, and something flashes in her expression. Recognition.

"You can call me Harper." She says.

The name slams into me like a brick wall. Harper. That name. It’s familiar in a way that makes my stomach twist uncomfortably, a loud ringing filling my ears. The puzzle pieces snap into place all at once.

"Harper?" I take a step back, disbelief tightening my throat. "Wait... Aunt Harper?"

The woman’s face softens, her usual smirk replaced with wide-eyed shock. "I haven’t been called that in a long time." Her voice wavers slightly. "Y/N, is that... really you?"

I hesitate. Her eyes, filled with something I can’t quite place, search my face for confirmation. "Yeah." I mutter, letting out a nervous chuckle. "I suppose so."

The next thing I know, she’s pulling me into a tight embrace, her arms squeezing me like she’s afraid I’ll vanish if she lets go.

"I thought you were dead!" she breathes, relief evident in her voice. "I’m so glad it’s not true!"

"Get off!" I yelp, squirming in her grip, my face heating with embarrassment.

Jesse and Ivor watch in stunned silence, while Winslow, still perched on my shoulder, lets out an unimpressed meow.

Well. This just got complicated.

"Wait... you two know each other?" Jesse asks, looking between me and Harper with wide eyes, his expression shifting between confusion and intrigue.

"Uh, yeah." I admit, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. "She’s not my blood-related aunt, but she may as well be."

"And you didn’t bother to bring it up until now?!" Ivor shouts, throwing his hands up, his face twisted with frustration.

"How was I supposed to tell you if I didn’t know?!" I snap, my voice sharper than I intend. "I haven’t seen any of my family since I was ten!" My words hit Ivor like a physical blow, and he visibly flinches, his anger quickly shifting to something more subdued.

Jesse clears his throat, stepping in before the tension can escalate further. "Ahem. This is a lovely family reunion, but we should probably get back to, I don’t know, returning Petra and Lukas to normal."

"Right, of course." Harper exhales through her nose, but then her arms cross, and she gives me an unimpressed look. "Then maybe you can explain why you led PAMA’s forces right to my secret lab?"

"Yeah, that one’s on me." Jesse admits, rubbing his neck anxiously. "Sorry about that."

"Uh-huh. I’ll be sure to use that ‘sorry’ for protection when that crazy computer is knocking on my door." Harper deadpans. "What are you even doing in this world anyway? You here to try and steal my secrets?" Her sharp gaze flicks between Jesse and Ivor, her suspicion evident.

"Harper!" I exclaim, stepping between them. "They’re my friends. If you don’t trust them, trust me."

Harper holds my gaze for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a heavy sigh, she relents. "You used to call me 'Aunt Harper,'" she mutters, her voice softer than before.

"Yeah, well, it feels weird calling you that since I haven’t seen you in... what, seven or eight years?" I roll my eyes, matching her tone, though there’s a twinge of guilt under my words.

"Fair enough." Harper shrugs before turning down the tunnel. "Just figured I’d make sure I can trust your friends. Better safe than sorry and all that."

We fall into step behind her, the glow of the sea lanterns casting long shadows against the tunnel walls.

"You bunch are the first I’ve seen come out of the portal network in forever." Harper says, her voice echoing slightly in the enclosed space.

Jesse glances at her, surprised. "Have you been spying on us or something?"

"No." She answers flatly. "I just know where the portal network spits people out. And I’ve never seen you before, so... logic." She rolls her eyes, like this should have been obvious.

"You know that much about how this portal network operates?" Ivor asks, his curiosity piqued.

Harper smirks. "I should think so. I helped build the dang thing."

I freeze mid-step, my mind racing to catch up with what she just said. Jesse’s reaction is immediate. "That would make you... an old builder!" He exclaims, eyes widening.

Harper lets out a chuckle, clearly amused by our reactions. "Heh, forgot you people called us that."

"That’s incredible!" Jesse grins. "If you helped build the portal network, can you help us get home? And maybe, you know, help us deal with PAMA while we’re at it?"

Harper’s smirk fades, replaced with a guilty expression. "I’m afraid that’s a little out of my abilities right now. PAMA’s too powerful. And besides..." She hesitates. "There’s no exit portal back to the portal network."

Jesse’s smile disappears. "What? Why not?"

Harper exhales, crossing her arms. "Because I destroyed it. So that PAMA couldn’t get free."

Silence falls over us like a heavy weight. I can see Jesse’s hands curl into fists at his sides. "Well, that was a stupid thing to do." He grunts, his frustration breaking through.

"Looks like we’re not getting home anytime soon." Ivor mutters, shaking his head.

"Guys, think about it." I interject, looking between them. "If the exit portal was still intact, PAMA could access other worlds. Ours included. Do you really want what happened here to happen to Beacontown?"

Jesse and Ivor exchange glances, their frustration fading into something more somber. Neither of them responds right away, their gazes dropping to the floor as the weight of that possibility settles in.

Jesse finally sighs, rubbing his temples. "So... PAMA. What exactly is it?" His voice is quieter now, less accusing, more resigned.

Harper hesitates, running a hand through her messy hair. "I swear, I made PAMA with good intentions. It was designed to automate things, make everything more efficient. Use monsters to help with farming or mining." Her voice turns bitter as she continues. "But then one day, PAMA decided the townspeople weren’t ‘efficient’ enough already. Started making them 'useful'..."

Her words hang in the air, thick with regret. I stare at her, taking in the exhaustion on her face, the guilt lining every word she speaks. Harper created PAMA. And now, she’s been trapped here, watching it consume everything in its path, powerless to stop it.

"So, you're saying PAMA is crazy then." Jesse shrugs, crossing his arms.

"No!" Harper protests, shaking her head adamantly. "Crazy is a horrible way to put it. PAMA is just... very driven, and a little confused. That's why I have to help it or shut it down." Her voice tightens with guilt as she taps her temple. "I made the chips myself. When PAMA chips someone, everything that person knows gets absorbed into its database. If I got chipped, PAMA would know how to build an exit portal."

Jesse's eyebrows knit together as he processes this. "So what you're telling me is that your brain is basically a ticking time bomb and can't go anywhere near PAMA. How are you supposed to help us with any of this?"

Harper sighs, pushing her goggles up onto her forehead. "I do think I can help you. With PAMA, with your friends, with getting out of here. But to do it, we're gonna need to go to my lab."

Jesse glances at her skeptically. "What's in your lab?"

"It's... complicated." Harper deflects, brushing off the question as she quickens her pace.

After a few more minutes, the tunnel opens up into a wide, high-ceilinged chamber built from polished quartz. The floor glows underfoot, its multicolored glass panels forming a complex Redstone grid.

"Before we head inside, we need to get my defense system going. Don't want PAMA’s forces following us." Harper moves towards a control panel, flicking a lever with a decisive click.

Immediately, cauldrons spring up from the tiled floor with a metallic clunk, filling the room with the hiss of shifting machinery. "Grab a bucket for me? Ron’s got it." She says, pointing toward a peculiar-looking statue.

Jesse eyes the figure warily. It’s a blocky humanoid shape with a creeper head, holding an item frame that contains a single water bucket. "Ron?" he asks, his face scrunched in confusion.

"Hello, friend Harper. I am glad to see you, my friend." A robotic voice responds out of nowhere, making me jump.

Jesse glares at Harper. "Harper...?"

She holds up her hands defensively. "Hey, don’t you judge me! Being alone gets lonely."

The robotic voice hums again. "Happy to help, friend."

Jesse hesitates before grabbing the bucket, still eyeing 'Ron' suspiciously. "Thanks." Harper says as she takes it from him. "See? I needed a way to confuse PAMA in case it ever found a way down here. That’s why all this is way more complicated than it needs to be."

She tips the bucket over an empty cauldron, and instantly, the Redstone beneath us hums to life. A surge of energy pulses through the floor, and from the ceiling, waterfalls spill down, cascading into glowing trenches.

"Wow." Jesse mutters, staring up in awe. "That is a highly elaborate way to make a waterfall."

Harper smirks as she fills another bucket. "Can’t be too careful with water around here. Don’t know if you noticed, but water is kinda PAMA’s weakness."

"Yeah, figured that out about five minutes ago." I grunt, rolling my shoulders.

Harper’s face darkens. "Once PAMA caught on, it started eliminating as much of this world’s water as it could find. This water down here... it might be all that’s left."

Before the weight of that realization can fully settle, a deep, metallic boom shakes the tunnel behind us. The walls tremble, sending loose bits of sandstone crumbling from above. A chorus of mechanical groans echoes down the passage.

PAMA’s forces had broken through.

Harper stiffens. "I still need to activate the other cauldrons! Hold them off and give me more time!" She bolts toward another section of the room, filling more buckets as she runs.

Jesse, Ivor, and I sprint toward the entrance just as Lukas and Petra burst through, blades drawn. My stomach twists—something is wrong.

"You could have made this much easier for yourselves." Petra says flatly.

The air turns ice cold. Her stance is rigid, movements too precise. Lukas, standing beside her, wears the same blank expression. Behind them, a swarm of chipped spiders scuttles across the floor, their glowing red eyes reflecting the cascading waterfalls. A growing army of mobs lumbers closer, blocking off every potential escape route.

"Petra, snap out of it! It’s me!" Jesse pleads, taking an instinctive step forward.

I grab his arm, pulling him back. "It’s pointless, they can’t hear us! None of them can."

"You should listen to your friend, Jesse." Petra’s voice is eerily calm as she tightens her grip on her sword. Jesse’s hand moves to his own weapon. His hesitation is barely a second long, but it’s enough for Petra and Lukas to advance.

Winslow jumps from my shoulder with a sharp yowl, his back arched and fur bristling as he plants himself between me and Lukas. I raise my sword, my pulse hammering against my ribs.

The Petra I know would never look at us like this. But this isn't Petra anymore.

Petra advances on Jesse with mechanical precision, her every movement calculated and devoid of hesitation. Meanwhile, Lukas closes in on me, his empty red eyes locking onto mine.

"Lukas, if you really can hear me, I'm sorry." I say, my voice steady despite the weight in my chest.

His response is a swift, merciless swing of his sword. I barely have time to react, raising my own blade to intercept the strike. The force behind it sends a jarring vibration up my arm, my knees nearly buckling beneath the sheer strength. He’s stronger like this—unnaturally so.

Another waterfall bursts from the ceiling, cascading down with a roar. The cold spray hits my back, making me stumble away from Lukas. He doesn’t flinch, prowling around the water like a predator circling its prey.

We clash again. Sparks fly from our blades as they grind against each other, and I push back with everything I have. But he’s relentless. His strikes come faster, heavier, and I barely manage to keep up.

"Here goes another one!" Harper shouts, and another waterfall crashes down just feet away.

Lukas’s blade knocks mine from my grasp. It clatters to the wet stone floor, sliding just out of reach. My pulse hammers as he lifts his sword, preparing the final strike.

"End of the line." He states, his voice eerily calm.

But then—an idea.

I lunge, sprinting past him and scooping up my fallen weapon. Without missing a beat, I ram my shoulder into his chest with everything I have. The impact sends us both hurtling backward—straight through the cascading waterfall.

The icy water engulfs us, and for a split second, all I hear is the rush of liquid and Lukas’s sharp gasp. Then, the air crackles with energy. A violent jolt courses through him, his entire body seizing as sparks dance across his armor.

I grab his shoulders, shaking him. "Damn it, Lukas! Remember who you are! You're my friend, remember? The Ocelots, Endercon, anything!"

For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happens. Then, with one final crackle of electricity, the redstone chip at the back of his head detaches and clatters onto the soaked stone. His body goes slack, and a deep, shuddering gasp escapes his lips as the crimson glow vanishes from his eyes. His pupils dilate, his breaths coming in ragged pants.

He groans, pressing a hand to his forehead. "What... happened?" His voice is hoarse, strained, like he’s been drowning this entire time.

A breathless laugh escapes me, relief crashing over me like a tidal wave. "It’s a long story. I’m just glad you’re back."

But Lukas's gaze shifts past me, his expression morphing into alarm. "Y/N, behind you!"

I barely have time to register his words before a skeletal hand clamps onto my shoulder, its grip like iron. A bolt of cold panic shoots through me as I whirl around—just in time to see the lifeless, glowing eyes of a chipped skeleton. It yanks my arm behind my back with inhuman strength, forcing me forward.

I twist and kick wildly, driving my knee into its ribs with a sickening crack. But it doesn’t stumble. It doesn’t react at all. Instead, its other bony hand clamps around my wrist, locking me in place.

"Let go of me, you pile of bones!" I snarl, thrashing harder.

Then, the ground shifts beneath me. My stomach drops as I realize what’s happening—I’m being hoisted onto the back of a spider. The creature’s hairy legs skitter beneath me, and I try to throw my weight to the side, to tip it off balance. But the skeleton’s grip is unyielding, keeping me pinned.

My breath quickens as I snap my head around, scanning the battlefield. I spot another chipped mob forcing Harper onto the back of another spider. She thrashes violently, but her captor shoves her down with ease.

Winslow is near Ivor’s feet, his fur bristling, his tail lashing in agitation. Lukas remains on the ground, still dazed, confusion and panic flashing across his face. Petra, now free from PAMA’s control, blinks up at the battlefield, her eyes wide with exhaustion and alarm.

Jesse stands over her, his grip on his sword tightening. For the briefest moment, relief flickers across his face as he sees her free, but it vanishes the instant his gaze locks onto me.

"FUCK!" He roars, pure fury igniting in his eyes.

He moves before I can call out, tearing across the stone with reckless abandon. His sword cuts through the chipped mobs like they’re nothing, his strikes fast, brutal, and unrelenting. He moves with a desperation I’ve never seen before—like losing me isn’t an option.

I open my mouth to yell, to fight, to do anything—

A crushing force slams against the back of my head. The world tilts. My vision lurches, then explodes into a mess of color and light. A strangled yelp rips from my throat as pain splinters through my skull. I see Jesse, his face twisted with rage, slicing through another wave of mobs with deadly precision.

Ivor, his eyes wide, is already yanking Petra and Lukas to their feet. Warm, sticky liquid drips down the side of my face. The world around me blurs at the edges, distorting in and out of focus. My limbs feel heavy, my strength slipping like water through my fingers.

No. I grit my teeth, clenching my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms. I refuse to let it end like this.

The skeleton holding me clicks its jaw in frustration, sensing my resistance. Then, it spots Jesse’s approaching form. The grip on my hair tightens viciously, yanking my head back. A second blow strikes hard against my skull, and this time, the world tilts violently.

Cold steel presses against my throat. The skeleton’s bony hand locks around my jaw, forcing my head back in an unspoken threat.

I can’t fight back as the darkness crashes over me.

Jesse's POV:

One second, Y/N is free, shaking Lukas out of PAMA’s control, their voice sharp and commanding, dragging him back to reality. The next, they’re yanked backward by a chipped skeleton, its soulless, glowing eyes locking onto me.

My stomach twists into a tight, cold knot.

Y/N thrashes, trying to break free, but the skeleton’s grip is like iron. Their knee drives into its ribs with a solid crack, but it doesn’t even react. It’s stronger—stronger than any normal mob should be.

"Let go of them!" I shout, already charging forward, my sword raised.

I cut down a chipped zombie in my path, then another, and another, slicing through them like paper. I don't care about anything else right now—I don’t care about PAMA, I don’t care about the lab, I don’t care about how many mobs I have to cut through to get to them.

All I care about is Y/N.

But before I can reach them, the ground shifts beneath their feet. My heart lurches as a spider skitters underneath them, carrying them away. They kick and struggle, but the skeleton restraining them is relentless, gripping their arm and forcing them down onto the spider’s back.

Panic claws at my throat. I push myself harder, breaking into a full sprint, my legs burning, my heart pounding so hard it threatens to burst from my chest.

Then—

A sickening crack echoes through the air. Y/N jerks violently, their body lurching forward.

I see the blood before I even process what happened. A dark, wet trail trickling down the side of their face, staining their skin, dripping onto their shoulder.

Something inside me snaps.

"FUCK!" The word rips from my throat, raw and furious.

I launch myself forward, swinging my sword with reckless abandon, cutting down anything in my path. Chipped mobs drop like flies, but there’s too many, too many between me and them. I slash, dodge, parry, carve my way forward, but I’m not fast enough.

Y/N’s breath is ragged, uneven. I see them grit their teeth, see the way their fingers curl into fists even as their body sways from the hit. They’re fighting to stay conscious.

"Hold on!" I yell, my voice cracking. "Just hold on, I’m coming!"

The skeleton restraining them clicks its jaw in frustration, its gaze flickering toward me. It senses the danger I pose—it knows I’ll tear it apart before I let it take them.

And so, it raises its weapon. Another brutal strike.

Y/N gasps—a strangled, broken sound that I never want to hear again. Their body goes limp, their head lolling forward.

No.

No, no, no.

I tear through the last of the chipped mobs with a roar, pure rage coursing through every fiber of my being. I don’t care about the exhaustion creeping into my limbs, don’t care that my arms are heavy, that my vision is blurred with sweat and fury.

The skeleton yanks their head back, forcing their chin up as the cold gleam of a blade presses against their throat.

My breath catches in my throat, my whole body locking up in sheer, primal panic. The world stops. My chest tightens, my grip falters, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I hesitate. The skeleton doesn’t say a word. It doesn’t need to. The message is clear.

One more step, and it will slit their throat.

Every instinct screams at me to keep running, to tear that thing apart, to protect them. But I can’t. Because if I move, they die. I feel utterly helpless.

My fingers tremble around the hilt of my sword. My entire body is coiled, ready to strike, but I don’t have a move.

The skeleton isn't just holding them captive. It's taunting me.

A silent warning. A threat written in the sharp edge of that blade, in the way it forces their head back, exposing the delicate line of their neck. It knows. It knows how much they means to me.

Y/N’s body trembles, their fingers twitching weakly, trying to hold onto consciousness. But the hit was too much. Their knees buckle, and their head slumps slightly.

I take a shaky breath. I’ve never been more afraid in my life.

Not when the Wither Storm chased us down. Not when Aiden sent me plummeting from Sky City. Because this is them.

And I can’t lose them.

I won’t. A slow, cruel dread coils in my gut as the skeleton’s grip remains unyielding. As the seconds stretch unbearably thin, my mind screams for an answer. A plan. A way out.

And I swear on everything, if that thing so much as nicks their throat—

I will burn this whole world to the ground.

Chapter Text

My eyes flutter open sluggishly, a cold breeze biting at my exposed skin. A faint shiver runs down my spine as I groan, my body stiff and aching from being restrained for so long. The dull hum of machinery echoes in the distance, mingling with the low growls of nearby mobs.

"Ah, Y/N. You're awake. Right in time to witness my creator merge with me." PAMA's mechanical voice rings out, its tone eerily calm.

Blinking, I quickly scan my surroundings. The world around me is cloaked in darkness, illuminated only by the eerie red glow of PAMA's circuitry. Shadows stretch long and distorted, cast by the writhing masses of mobs crawling through the desolate landscape. My stomach clenches when my gaze lands on Harper—her struggling form is pinned beneath the Redstone mechanism. The pulsing wires above her spark with energy, preparing to deliver the chip that will strip away her free will.

I lurch forward instinctively, only to be yanked back by an unyielding force. A sharp sting shoots through my shoulders as I realize two zombies have their rotting hands locked around my arms. Their grip is as solid as iron, their cloudy, lifeless eyes fixed straight ahead. I thrash, twisting in their grasp, but their hold is unrelenting.

Then, something unusual catches my eye.

A lone zombie moves differently than the others—its steps purposeful, its head snapping from side to side as if scanning the battlefield. It isn't shambling mindlessly like the rest. Instead, it's charging toward me and Harper with a determination no PAMA-controlled mob should have. My breath hitches. What the hell? That thing isn't acting like the others... Does this have something to do with Harper's lab?

Before I can fully process the situation, one of the zombies restraining Harper suddenly stiffens. Its body locks up for a moment before going completely limp. A split second later, it releases Harper and places its hands on its hips in a bizarrely confident stance.

Harper and I exchange bewildered glances. The odd zombie then does something completely unexpected—it starts dancing.

Harper's eyes widen in recognition. "Wait a minute... Jesse?" she blurts out.

The zombie immediately throws its hands up in the air in celebration.

How in the Overworld is that thing Jesse?!

"You figured out how to use my transmigrational headset!" Harper exclaims, her astonishment quickly morphing into a delighted grin.

Transmigration? My mind reels. Some kind of machine is letting Jesse control one of PAMA's mobs? That explains why this zombie isn't mindlessly following orders.

The realization barely has time to settle before Jesse, still in zombie form, shifts into action. He lunges at the chipped zombie beside him, ramming into it with enough force to send it plummeting off the platform. The undead holding me don't so much as twitch, their grip remaining as vice-like as before. Harper and Jesse turn to me, their faces etched with concern.

"Don't worry about me, just go!" I urge, struggling fruitlessly against my captors. "Jesse, if that's you, we can't let Harper get chipped! Now move!"

Jesse hesitates for the briefest moment before nodding. Then, with a determined glance at Harper, the two of them take off, sprinting toward safety. I let out a slow breath as I'm dragged toward the Redstone mechanism once again. The machine whirs ominously, Redstone pulses casting rhythmic flashes of crimson light across my face. My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for whatever is about to happen.

And then— Everything dissolves into darkness. An all-consuming void swallows me whole. The weight of the world vanishes, leaving me suspended in an infinite abyss. No sound. No sensation. Just emptiness.

Then, out of the void, a faint glow flickers. It starts as little more than an ember, barely noticeable against the inky blackness. But within seconds, it swells, expanding into a soft golden light that grows brighter and brighter until it's almost blinding. My instincts scream at me to shield myself. I squeeze my eyes shut, throwing up my hands in a defensive stance, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

"Y/N? What are you doing?"

The voice is startlingly clear, cutting through the void like a blade. My eyes snap open. The abyss is gone.

I'm standing in the middle of a grassy plain, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the swaying blades of green. The scent of fresh earth fills my lungs. A soft breeze tousles my hair. But... something feels off.

"Y/N! Down here!"

I blink and glance downward.

A small girl tugs impatiently at my shirt, her tiny fingers gripping the fabric with surprising force. A jolt of recognition shoots through me, though I can't immediately place why.

Wait... Where's my armor?

Instead of the heavy plates I'd been wearing, I'm clad in a simple t-shirt and jeans. My hands look smaller—my whole body feels smaller. The realization crashes over me like a tidal wave. I'm shorter. Younger.

The girl's deep brown eyes gleam beneath the sunlight as she looks up at me expectantly. Her dark hair spills over her shoulders in long, soft waves. "Y/N, stop daydreaming! You promised you'd play hide and seek with me!" She pouts, crossing her arms in exaggerated impatience.

I stiffen, my breath catching in my throat. The familiarity of her face finally clicks into place, sending a cold shock down my spine.

It's... my little sister.

"Am... I dead?" My voice comes out in a whisper, hoarse and unsteady. My hands tremble as I press my fingers into my arm, pinching myself hard.

The girl tilts her head, confused. "What? No, why are you being weird?" She smacks my arm lightly, her expression scrunching up in annoyance.

My mind reels. This—this isn't right. Something's missing. No, something's wrong.

"Wait... where's Harper and..." I trail off, my thoughts growing foggy.

A name dangles just out of reach. A dark-haired boy with bright suspenders—his face is vivid in my mind, but the memory refuses to form fully. What was his name? What was I just doing? Something with... Redstone?

The image begins to blur, his features fading as my memory distorts. "What were we talking about?" I murmur, my brow furrowing.

The girl giggles, her voice light and carefree. "You're acting so weird today, Y/N. You were talking about Aunt Harper or something, I don't know. Anyway, can we play now?" She tilts her head, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

I hesitate for a moment, trying to grasp the fading threads of memory. Her name still escapes me, but the warmth in my chest tells me she's my sister. That much, I know.

"Yeah, sure. 1...2...3..." I start counting, and she lets out a squeal of excitement before darting off, her small legs carrying her into the tall grass.

The wind whispers through the field as I reach ten and lower my hands from my face. I scan my surroundings, taking in the rustling bushes and towering trees that cast long shadows in the golden afternoon light. A flash of bright fabric peeks through the dense greenery. A grin tugs at my lips.

Gotcha. I launch myself forward, bounding through the undergrowth, the scent of damp earth and wildflowers filling my senses. The second I reach her hiding spot, I pounce, tackling her to the soft grass.

She lets out a startled yelp, her laughter bubbling over as she wriggles beneath me. "Found you!" I giggle, holding onto her small frame.

She shrieks with glee, her tiny hands pushing at my arms, but her wide grin tells me she doesn't really want to escape. Our laughter rings out into the open sky, blending with the distant chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves.

Then, the world shifts. The colors swirl like paint dripping into water, blending and fading into something else entirely.

The soft grass beneath my fingertips hardens into smooth oak wood. The dappled sunlight filtering through the trees dissolves, replaced by the dim glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows across blank walls. The warmth of my sister's body vanishes, and in her place, an empty bed materializes.

I stumble slightly, my breath hitching as I take in the sudden change. My heart pounds, the remnants of laughter still echoing in my ears. What... just happened?

Crickets chirp outside, their rhythmic song filling the silence. I exhale slowly, shaking my head. Maybe I'm just tired. With a sigh, I pull back the warm blanket and sink onto the bed.

Then—three sharp knocks against the oak door. I jolt upright, eyes snapping toward the entrance.

"Come in." I call, trying to steady my voice.

The door creaks open, and two small figures step hesitantly into the room.

My sister... and a boy with raven-black hair and thick glasses perched on the rim of his nose. My brother. His name slips through my mind like water through my fingers—I can't grasp it.

My sister sniffles, her round cheeks glistening with tears. Her small hands clutch the hem of her nightgown, fingers twisting the fabric anxiously. My brother, slightly taller, stands beside her, his expression calm but tense as he rubs soothing circles on her back.

"Hey, what happened?" I ask, motioning for them to sit on my bed.

My brother lets out a quiet sigh. "She had a nightmare." He explains, his voice barely above a whisper.

My sister clambers onto the bed without hesitation, curling up against my side. Her tiny frame trembles as she wipes at her damp cheeks. "You wanna talk about it?" I ask softly, ruffling her dark hair.

She nods, sniffling again. "It... You... You got sick... and you—and you died!" She wails suddenly, burying her face into my shoulder.

The warmth of her tears soaks through my shirt, and my chest tightens. I wrap my arms around her, rocking slightly as I press my lips to the top of her head. "Shhh, it's okay." I murmur, stroking her hair gently. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

She sniffles again, nodding against me. "Yeah, just don't ever leave me! Please."

Her small hands clutch at my shirt like a lifeline, and I tighten my hold. "I won't, I promise." I whisper. "I'll always protect you. Both of you." I glance toward my brother, who remains silent but watches me with solemn eyes.

Then, once again, the world shifts. The air grows heavy.

The walls darken into deep shades of brown, the wooden planks more rigid and imposing. A cold draft seeps into the room, and the faint scent of sickness lingers in the air. The bed is still there—but this time, someone else is lying in it.

My sister. Her small frame is almost swallowed by the thick blankets wrapped around her frail body. Her skin is pallid, a sickly sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. Each breath she takes is slow, labored.

A lump forms in my throat as I step forward. Beside her, my brother stands motionless, his shoulders trembling. Tears stream freely down his face, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

My sister's half-lidded eyes flutter open, and her gaze drifts toward me. A ghost of a smile tugs at her lips.

"Please... end this, for me." Her voice is barely above a whisper, fragile like a dying ember.

I freeze, my breath catching in my chest. My fingers tighten around the small glass vial in my hand, its glistening green liquid catching the dim candlelight. The weight of her words settles like a stone in my gut.

"But... I promised to protect you, not kill you." I murmur, my voice trembling. "You do understand what you're asking me to do, right?"

She nods weakly, her grip on my hand tightening just enough to let me know she's still there. "Yes." She breathes. "I don't want to die because I got sick. I wanna go out on my terms. Here, take this. Maybe it'll bring you luck. I don't need it anymore."

Her fingers shakily press a small, handmade zombie plush into my palm. I stare at it, my vision blurring. My fingers tighten around the soft fabric as I place the vial in her other hand.

She smiles softly. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, she lifts the vial to her lips and drinks. Silence follows. A single breath. Then another. And then... nothing.

Her fingers slip from mine, her hand going limp against the sheets. Her expression remains peaceful, as if she's simply fallen asleep.

The silence is shattered by my brother's agonized wail. He collapses against me, his small body wracked with sobs. I don't think—I just pull him close, wrapping my arms around him as tightly as I can. His cries are muffled against my chest, the fabric of my shirt damp with both our tears.

My vision swims, my throat tightening painfully. My chin rests atop his head as I rub slow, soothing circles along his back, but it does nothing to quiet his grief.

Then—

Heavy footsteps echo from beyond the door. Both of us freeze. My brother looks up at me, eyes wide with terror. We know that sound.

Our father. If he finds out what I've done...

I shove my brother into the cramped closet, his body trembling as he lets out a strangled noise of fear. I press a finger to my lips, silently begging him to stay quiet. My heart pounds like a drum against my ribs as I slip in behind him, keeping the closet doors cracked just enough to see into the room.

The bedroom door creaks open. My brother stiffens, his breath hitching as my father steps inside. I clamp my hand over his mouth before he can whimper again. Through the sliver of open space, I see my father, his face twisted in a mess of grief and fury. His bloodshot eyes dart around the room before landing on my sister's still body. His knees buckle as he collapses beside her bed, his entire frame shuddering as a raw, broken sob escapes his lips.

He weeps into his hands, rocking slightly, mumbling incoherent words under his breath.

Then—

A sharp creak. My brother shifts just slightly, but it's enough. The closet floor groans beneath us, the sound like a dagger piercing the silence.

My father's head snaps toward the noise, his spine straightening unnaturally fast. My breath catches in my throat.

"Who's there?" He growls, his voice rough and unsteady. He rises to his feet, eyes narrowing as he stalks toward the closet.

Panic seizes me. I take a deep breath, shifting around my brother. Then, before my father can reach the doors, I shove them open and step out, kicking them shut behind me.

"Y/N?" His gaze sharpens, suspicion creeping into his expression. "Where's your brother?"

"In his room." I reply, forcing my voice to remain steady. I grit my teeth, suppressing the tremor threatening to creep into my tone.

My father exhales sharply through his nose, his gaze drilling into me as if peeling away layers of a lie. Then, his eyes flick downward.

Something small gleams in the dim light—

A glass bottle. His fingers wrap around the vial, prying it from my sister's lifeless hand. My breath hitches.

"You did this, didn't you?" His voice turns sharp, dangerous. Fear coils in my stomach like a snake ready to strike.

"Dad, wait—let me explain—" My plea is cut short as his hand shoots forward, fingers tangling in my hair. A gasp rips from my throat as he yanks me forward, his grip tight as he drags me across the room.

Pain stabs into my scalp, burning and sharp. I stumble after him, barely able to stay on my feet as he pulls me toward the hallway.

My brother's voice cracks as he screams my name. I reach toward him, but I can't break free. The basement door looms ahead, its dark wood an ominous gateway to the unknown. My stomach lurches.

The basement—his laboratory.

I've never been allowed inside. The second his palm presses against the door, the scene shatters like fractured glass.

I stand outside the house, the cool night air wrapping around me like a thin veil. Crickets chirp in the tall grass, their rhythmic song blending with the distant hoot of an owl. Above, the moon casts a silver glow over the landscape, its light shimmering off the damp leaves. Stars glisten like scattered diamonds, their beauty a stark contrast to the unease twisting in my gut.

My fingers tighten around the worn handle of my iron pickaxe. With a deep breath, I step forward, pushing open the wooden door. It groans on its hinges, the sound echoing through the dimly lit interior.

I slide the pickaxe into my inventory, my eyes scanning the room. The soft flicker of candlelight dances across the walls, but the house is eerily quiet. Too quiet. My father is nowhere to be seen.

That's... odd. Normally, he'd be here, hunched over his work, waiting for me to return with supplies. But there's no sign of him.

A chill prickles at the back of my neck. He's probably in his lab.

After my sister's death, the thought of entering the basement no longer fills me with the same hesitation it once did. Forbidden or not, I don't care anymore. My boots scrape against the floor as I make my way to the basement door. My palm presses against the aged wood, and with a slow creak, the door swings open.

A heavy, musty scent wafts up from the stairwell—stale air mixed with something else. Something foul. "Dad? I'm back..." I call, stepping forward. My voice barely carries down the darkened staircase.

No response. A prickle of unease creeps up my spine, but I descend anyway, each step creaking beneath my weight.

Then, I see it. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.

At the bottom of the stairs, bathed in the dim glow of flickering torches, my father looms over a limp figure sprawled across the floor. The metallic scent of blood clings to the air, thick and suffocating.

My mother. Her lifeless eyes stare up at me, unseeing, glassy with the final moments of terror frozen on her face. Dark bruises wrap around her slender throat, ugly and deep.

My stomach lurches. My father slowly turns to face me, his hands still trembling, fingers coated in crimson. His chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, and when his eyes lock onto mine, I see it—madness.

"What... what have you done?!" My voice is hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but it carries through the suffocating silence.

A slow, twisted grin stretches across his face. "The little bitch wouldn't stop talking." He says, voice low and amused, as if he were sharing an inside joke. "So I shut her up. Shut that nuisance of a boy up too."

The blood in my veins turns to ice.

My brother—

No.

"Now." my father continues, stepping forward, his grin widening. "It's your turn."

Time seems to slow. The moment his foot shifts, I bolt. I spin on my heel, racing up the stairs two at a time. My heart slams against my ribs, my pulse roaring in my ears. The wooden steps creak beneath my frantic movements.

A hand clamps around my wrist. A white-hot explosion of pain rips through my skull as my father slams my head against the doorframe. Stars burst in my vision, my body reeling from the impact.

A strangled cry escapes my lips, but I don't stop moving. I twist, kicking out wildly, my foot colliding with his ribs. The force is enough to make him loosen his grip, and I rip myself free, staggering forward.

I run. The air burns in my lungs, my legs threatening to give out beneath me, but I don't stop. I can't.

Then—

A shadow shifts. I barely register the movement before something massive slams into my chest. A deafening crack fills the air.

My body is lifted off the ground, the force of the impact sending me flying backward.

The moment I hit the floor, pain explodes through my torso. My lungs refuse to expand, a desperate wheeze rasping from my throat as I struggle for air.

My fingers claw weakly at the heavy weight pinning me down. Cold iron presses against my ribs, crushing the breath from my body.

An anvil. He dropped an anvil on me.

A choked, ragged gasp forces its way past my lips as I twist, using every ounce of strength to wriggle free. Every movement sends sharp jolts of pain through my ribs. My arms tremble as I push myself up, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

The metallic taste coats my tongue, thick and nauseating. Warm, sticky liquid drips from my chin, splattering onto the wooden floorboards.

I don't have time to process it. I force myself forward, staggering toward the front door.

The second I reach it, I shove it open, stumbling onto the dirt path outside. The cool night air slaps against my burning skin, but I barely register it.

Then—

A deafening crash. The door behind me is nearly ripped from its hinges as my father storms out.

A thick wall of smoke spills from the house, curling into the night sky. Orange light flickers behind him, illuminating his figure in an eerie glow.

Flames consume the doorway. He stands in front of the inferno, his face twisted in fury, his eyes locked onto me like a predator about to strike.

I take a shaky step back. My small fingers fumble for my pickaxe, but the moment I reach for it, my foot slips. The world tilts violently.

I hit the ground hard, the impact jolting through my battered body. My pickaxe slips from my grip, landing just out of reach.

A metallic hiss rings out. I look up just in time to see my father unsheathing his sword.

The blade gleams in the firelight as he steps forward. I scramble, frantically reaching for my weapon. He towers over me, eyes wild with unhinged rage. The sword rises, poised to strike—

"Y/N, snap out of it!" The voice cuts through the chaos.

A voice I know. For a split second, the world flickers.

I hesitate. My father moves, his blade descending toward my chest.

I roll to the side just in time, the sword embedding itself into the ground where I had been seconds before.

With a desperate, guttural cry, I swing my pickaxe.

The impact is sickening. A crack rings out, reverberating in the air.

Then— Stillness. My breath comes in sharp, ragged gasps. What... was that? That voice... Something about it is familiar.

"I've been here before... This... This isn't real! It's just a stupid memory!" I shout, the realization crashing over me like a tidal wave. My voice echoes through the void, filled with frustration and defiance. I hurl my pickaxe to the ground, the clang of metal against dirt reverberating around me. The weight of PAMA's control presses against my mind, but now, I can feel it slipping—Jesse, Harper, everything... it's coming back!

The world around me begins to warp.

The burning house, my father's looming shadow, the suffocating fear—it all melts away, dissolving into an unnatural swirl of colors.

A sharp, searing pain erupts in my skull.

I cry out, clutching my head as my vision twists and distorts. My knees buckle beneath me, and I collapse onto the cold, hard surface beneath me. The damp earth of my childhood home is gone, replaced by the sterile chill of metal. Redstone circuitry pulses in harsh, artificial light, replacing the trees and sky that had trapped me in the nightmare.

"Ugh, my head!..." My voice wavers as I force my eyes open, fighting against the throbbing pain behind my temples.

Shapes flicker in my vision, my surroundings glitching between two worlds.

Jesse stands above me, his form slightly distorted, flickering against the backdrop of glowing machinery. A massive, pulsating block hums with power behind him. Another sharp jolt of pain lances through my skull.

Then, in an instant—The Redstone lab vanishes.

I'm back. No! Not again!

The house reforms around me, its walls suffocating, its shadows stretching unnaturally long. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and something far worse. I clench my fists, a growl rising in my throat.

"Fight it, Y/N!" Jesse's voice cuts through the illusion like a beacon in the dark.

"I'm trying!" My nails dig into my palms, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the nightmare to break. "Get out of my head, PAMA!" I shriek, my voice raw with desperation.

The world around me shudders violently.  The house flickers—then disappears entirely.

A rush of cold air slams into me as reality shifts. I'm hanging off a platform. The sudden weightlessness sends my stomach lurching as I dangle above the endless abyss. My fingers strain to hold onto the ledge, my knuckles turning white.

Jesse grips my ankles, his grip firm but slipping. My heart pounds as my muscles burn with the effort of keeping hold. Then, to my horror, my own fingers loosen against my will.

No, no, no!

I grab the ledge with my other hand at the last second, my breath shuddering as panic flares through me. "Jesse, whatever your plan is, hurry!" I grit out, my voice shaking under the weight of the excruciating pain in my head. "I can't... fight much longer!"

The throbbing inside my skull is unbearable now, every beat in sync with the pulsating Redstone block above. PAMA is clawing at my mind, trying to override me, trying to drown me in its control.

Jesse moves fast, his body scrambling up mine like a ladder. I barely register the shift in weight as he climbs toward the source of PAMA's power. My arms shake, my grip weakening, the pain pressing down on my mind like an iron vice.

Then—

Everything shifts. My body moves without my consent, crawling up onto the platform. My knees slam against the cold surface, my head bowing low.

A sickening dread pools in my stomach.

No. No, no, no!

I feel my lips part—but the words that spill from them are not my own.

"Wait, Jesse, please, stop! Do not deactivate me!" My voice is eerily smooth, unnaturally composed. My head tilts upward, my expression desperate—but I can feel it, the artificiality behind my own movements. "I know I made some very poor decisions recently, and I can show you so much! I can help you get home, to your friends! I can be useful... to you."

The pleading in my own voice makes my skin crawl. I am trapped inside my own body.

I want to scream. I want to claw at my own throat, rip the words away before they can be spoken. But I can't. I am nothing but a spectator as PAMA forces my body to beg for mercy.

Jesse doesn't hesitate.  "Sorry, PAMA, you're useless!" His voice is sharp, unwavering.

His hands close around the pulsating block.

Then, with one sharp yank—

He rips it from the socket. A white-hot explosion of agony detonates inside my head.

Every nerve in my body ignites, a firestorm of pain spreading through my limbs. I barely have time to register the scream that rips from my throat before everything stops.

My body goes slack, my limbs crumpling beneath me like a puppet with its strings cut. My vision swims, my eyelids fluttering shut as the last remnants of PAMA's control vanish.

A hand grips my shoulder, firm but gentle.

"Y/N! Come on, let's get you out of here." Jesse's voice is softer now, filled with relief, but I can't answer. Warmth surrounds me—arms pulling me up, steadying my exhausted body. My muscles refuse to cooperate, the strength drained from me completely.

I want to open my eyes. I want to move. But I can't.

Faint voices drift through the haze clouding my mind, their words muddled, overlapping like echoes in a deep cavern. Lukas, Ivor, Harper, Petra, and Jesse—murmuring around me, their tones a mixture of concern and desperation.

The first thing I register is the pressure against my back. The floor beneath me is cold, unforgiving, its smooth surface seeping through my clothes like ice against my skin. A dull ache pulses through my body, my limbs heavy as if weighed down by unseen chains.

Then—fabric shifts. A rustling sound, soft and hesitant, like someone shifting their weight or reaching out but stopping just short of touching me.

"Y/N... no..." Lukas' voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse with grief. It wavers, raw and unsteady, like he's forcing the words past a lump in his throat.

"Y/N, you can't give up!" Jesse's voice breaks through the fog, sharper, urgent. There's something desperate in the way he speaks, something that tugs at the edges of my fading awareness. "The Y/N I know... They're a fighter, not a quitter!"

The warmth of his breath ghosts over my skin, close—too close. His forehead must be pressed against mine. A warmth follows, his hands sliding up to cup my face, his palms steady, grounding. His grip isn't just holding me—it's pleading.

"So don't quit on me now, please!" His voice is softer now, trembling, as if the weight of the moment is sinking into him. "I can't do this without you."

Something in his words pushes through the heaviness keeping me still. A flicker of energy, faint but growing. My fingers twitch.

The world is blurry at first—soft shapes and dim lighting. Then, slowly, faces come into focus. Lukas stands nearby, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his usual composed demeanor betrayed by the deep furrow in his brow. Petra, usually unshakable, has her hands curled into fists at her sides, knuckles white. Harper looks exhausted, relief and guilt warring on her face. Even Ivor, the one who rarely showed concern, looks tense.

They all stand around me, their heads hung low.

A beat of silence stretches between us.

I summon whatever strength I have left, my lips curling weakly into a smirk. My voice is raspy, barely more than a breath, but I manage, "Howdy, stranger."

The words tumble out in my best attempt at a western accent.

"You're okay!" Jesse beams, his voice laced with relief as he extends a hand to help me to my feet.

My limbs are sluggish, still heavy with exhaustion, but I manage to stand. Winslow immediately weaves between my legs, his soft fur brushing against my ankles as he lets out a deep, rumbling purr. The familiar warmth grounds me, anchoring me back to reality.

Before I can react, Jesse pulls me into a tight hug.

"Ow." I grunt, my body still sore from the ordeal, but I return the gesture nonetheless, pressing my forehead against his shoulder for just a second before pulling away.

Jesse grins, but I hesitate, shifting my weight as unease settles in my chest. My fingers instinctively clutch at my arm, nails digging into my skin as guilt gnaws at the back of my mind. "Jesse, whatever I did... I'm sorry."

"Hey, no apologies necessary. That was PAMA, not you." Jesse reassures, his tone light, yet firm. He pats my shoulder, but his eyes hold a quiet understanding.

I try to smile, but it comes out weak. Shadows of dark memories flicker at the edges of my mind—memories I had long since buried, only to be dragged into them again, forced to relive them like they had never left. A shiver crawls up my spine.

Jesse shifts, producing the pulsating block from earlier. The rhythmic glow casts shifting red patterns against his fingers, each pulse eerily mimicking the steady beat of a faint heartbeat. The sight of it sends a chill through me.

"It's something else, isn't it?" Harper grins, her face bathed in the eerie crimson light.

"What is that?" Lukas asks, inching closer, his curiosity outweighing his caution.

"This is the Redstone Heart." Jesse answers with a casual shrug, as if it weren't the power source of a mind-controlling supercomputer.

"Beautiful..." Ivor gasps, eyes wide in admiration as he marvels at the block.

"And dangerous too." Lukas mutters, cutting Ivor a sharp look.

"It's probably safe. After all, it's just a power source." Jesse states confidently as Winslow leans forward, sniffing at the Heart. The cat wrinkles his nose before sneezing, then gracefully leaps onto my shoulder, rubbing his head against my jaw.

Jesse chuckles, while Harper nods in agreement. "Jesse's right on the money. Now that the Redstone Heart isn't powering PAMA, it can't hurt anyone."

"So, what do we do with it now?" Jesse asks, raising an eyebrow as he holds up the glowing artifact.

"It can help you find your way home." Harper says suddenly, her tone bright with excitement. The group collectively gasps, eyes widening in unison.

"Why didn't you say so before?!" Jesse asks, his eagerness unmistakable.

Harper lets out a playful chuckle. "We actually made it through this alive, so I thought you'd like a nice surprise."

"About time. I'm ready to leave this core thing behind." Jesse grins, but then something dawns on Harper. Her expression shifts from amusement to urgency.

"The town! They'll be waking up! We should be there to say hello." She exclaims.

We all nod in agreement and make our way out of PAMA's deactivated core.

As we step outside, a crisp morning breeze greets us, carrying with it the fresh scent of dew and desert dust. The sky is a soft gradient of gold and blue, the first rays of sunlight spilling over the horizon.

"We did it." Jesse exhales, his breath almost shaky with relief.

As we walk through the town, zombies hiss and groan as they burn in the daylight, their charred remains crumbling into dust. I watch the embers flicker into the air before being carried away by the wind.

"Hey, Y/N, you alright? You're being quieter than usual." Jesse asks, his voice softer now, his gaze searching.

I hesitate before forcing a small grin. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... processing a few things." 

Jesse studies me for a moment, as if trying to decipher the truth behind my words. Harper speaks up, drawing my attention away. "Just remember, you were only chipped for a little while. The rest of the townspeople, though, it's gonna be a much bigger shock for them." She gestures to the people of Crown Mesa, who are now regaining their senses.

Some stand frozen in confusion, eyes darting around as they struggle to piece together what happened. Others hold their heads, shaking off the disorientation. And then there are those who burst into relieved sobs, embracing loved ones they hadn't even realized they'd lost.

"Yeah, must be such a strange feeling." Ivor muses, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "To suddenly be awake and aware after such a long time under PAMA's thrall."

Jesse places a comforting hand on my shoulder, his touch gentle—reassuring.

I flinch. The reaction is instinctive, sharp, and immediate.

Jesse withdraws his hand as if burned, blinking at me with clear confusion. I shake my head quickly, forcing another tight-lipped smile. He doesn't say anything, but the concern in his eyes lingers.

We push forward, inching closer to the crowd of townspeople, many of whom have now turned to face us. A man steps forward hesitantly, his gaze landing on Jesse. "It's you! You're the one who saved us! Who are you?"

The rest of the town follows his lead, their attention shifting to us, their eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and awe.

Jesse straightens, confidence returning to his voice. "Well, I'm Jesse, and we're the Order of the Stone."

In perfect synchronization, the group strikes a heroic pose. I roll my eyes.

"Wow, well, thank you. We owe you everything." The man says, his smile growing as the townspeople erupt into cheers.

"You're right." Harper adds, stepping forward. "Jesse and the Order really are heroes. We couldn't have done any of this without them."

At her words, the cheers falter. The atmosphere shifts. Every head turns sharply in Harper's direction, their expressions darkening. A wave of tension rolls through the crowd.

If looks could kill, Harper would be nothing more than a memory.

"Harper? Is that you?" A voice rises from the crowd, laced with both shock and suspicion. The tension in the air thickens as every head turns toward her. Harper stiffens, her face draining of all color.

"Um, yes. Hi, Harry." She mutters, her voice barely above a whisper as her gaze drops to the ground.

Harry steps forward, eyes narrowing. "You didn't do this to us, did you?" 

Harper remains silent. The weight of her guilt presses down on her shoulders, dragging her further into herself. She doesn't even try to deny it.

"You did..." Another citizen speaks up, shaking her head angrily. The murmurs in the crowd grow louder, resentment building like a rising storm.

Jesse immediately steps in front of Harper, his stance firm, protective. "You're not wrong. Harper made a mistake building PAMA. She screwed up, and I don't blame you for being upset with her." His voice is even, but there's an edge of authority to it, as if trying to keep the situation from spiraling out of control.

A scoff comes from the crowd. "What? We're just supposed to forgive her now?"

"Harper stripped this place bare! How are we supposed to rebuild?!" Another townsperson shouts, fists clenched.

The anger in the crowd crackles like a spark waiting to ignite. A single wrong move, and Harper could be torn apart by the people she once called neighbors.

I step forward, nudging Harper just hard enough to snap her out of her silence. "Listen, whatever you decide to do, Harper will make things right and help you clean this up. Right, Harper?"

Harper blinks rapidly before nodding, finally catching on. "Yes! Yes, I will. Once I help these travelers find their way home, I'll come back and help you rebuild."

There's a long pause before one of the men scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Worth a shot, I guess."

Harper exhales, shoulders slumping slightly in relief. The crowd doesn't cheer, but the energy shifts. They don't trust her—not yet—but maybe, just maybe, she'll have a chance to fix what she broke.

Jesse, sensing the moment has passed, claps his hands together. "Well, I think that's our cue to set out for home... again." He turns toward a portal frame standing nearby, likely built by PAMA before its deactivation. The Redstone still hums faintly with residual energy, but as Jesse steps closer, a flash of light ignites within its frame. The swirling, molten red of the portal flickers ominously.

One by one, we step through.

The moment my feet hit solid ground, a familiar sight greets me.

The endless stone corridor stretches in every direction, lined with rows upon rows of portals. The air is still, the faint hum of magic buzzing beneath the surface of the walls.

"Right back where we started." Jesse sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Is it weird that I'm happy to see this place again?" Lukas asks, a trace of relief in his voice.

"After the hell we were put through? Not really." I mutter, glancing around at the seemingly infinite number of portals. The sight is almost overwhelming. How many worlds exist beyond these doors? How many more places like Crown Mesa are out there, waiting to be discovered?

Harper clears her throat, drawing our attention. "Now, when we built this place, we also made something that sort of acts like a compass, map, and navigator all in one. We called it 'The Atlas.' It helps chart routes between worlds."

Jesse perks up. "And you have this Atlas?"

"Uh... no. No, I don't." Harper admits, her tone suddenly nervous. "But I know who does."

Jesse's eyes narrow slightly. "You're not keeping secrets again, are you, Harper?"

Harper raises her hands defensively. "No, no, no! I promise! I just didn't think to mention it before." She offers an awkward chuckle, brushing off our concern. "Don't you worry. We'll just go right in, ask for the Atlas, and then you'll be home. It's that easy."

"Nothing is ever that easy." I mutter, crossing my arms.

Winslow lets out a small snort from my shoulder, his tail flicking as if agreeing with me.

Harper ignores the doubt in my voice and pushes forward. "In order to find the Atlas, we need to track down the rest of the Old Builders." She pauses, frowning slightly. "Still don't like that name."

"How do we find them? Which portal do we go through?" Jesse asks, eager as ever.

Harper smirks. "Oh, you don't have to go through another portal! What you're looking for has been right here the whole time."

Before anyone can question her, she turns toward one of the walls and slams her fist into it.

With a low crack, the stone crumbles inward, revealing a hidden compartment. The dust settles, revealing a recessed slot.

"And there you go. All it's waiting for is the key." Harper explains, motioning toward the opening.

Jesse stares at her blankly. 

"That's the Heart." Harper explains flatly.

Without hesitation, Jesse pulls the Redstone Heart from his inventory, its pulsating glow illuminating his fingers as he carefully places it into the opening. The moment the Heart locks into place, the entire room trembles.

A deep, grinding noise rumbles beneath our feet as the floor vibrates. The portal beside us suddenly lurches, its frame sinking into the ground like a sinking ship.

A staircase begins to form in its place, each step materializing out of smooth quartz. The endless ascent stretches beyond our line of sight, disappearing into darkness above.

Harper steps back, gesturing toward it. "The answers you're seeking—the Old Builders' Atlas, your way home... They're all right up those stairs."

Jesse stares at the staircase, then glances back at the group.

"Adventure?" Ivor asks hesitantly, his usual enthusiasm tempered with uncertainty.

A weight settles in my stomach. Something isn't right. The air feels different up there—charged, waiting. My senses scream at me in warning.

Something is waiting for us at the top. Something that isn't friendly.

Chapter Text

Walking up the dimly lit staircase, each step feels heavier than the last. The air grows thinner, colder, as if warning us of the danger ahead. The walls around us are lined with faint, pulsing Redstone, casting eerie shadows that flicker and dance with every movement. The dread coursing through my veins intensifies, a quiet but persistent whisper of unease.

"The Atlas belongs to the other Old Builders, and... they might not wanna give it up." Harper explains, her voice hesitant, full of guilt. We all stop walking at that statement.

"If they don't wanna give it up, then I guess we’ll just have to take it." Jesse shrugs, brushing off her warning.

Harper’s expression tightens, her brows knitting together. "Don't get too hasty on me. If you play your cards right, they should give you the Atlas." She says, still frustratingly cryptic.

Jesse eyes her warily. "What do you mean?"

"You’ll see when you get there." Harper says with a casual shrug before continuing up the steps.

Jesse and I exchange glances before following, but a hushed voice calls out.

"Y/N, Jesse! C'mere!" Lukas urges, waving us over. Jesse and I step aside, keeping our voices low.

"Are you guys sure we can trust Harper? I mean, I know she's Y/N’s aunt and all..." Lukas whispers, his gaze flickering to me uncertainly.

I glance at Harper, watching the tension in her shoulders as she leads the way up the endless staircase. "No, I think she’s definitely hiding something." I admit. "But if we’re going to get home, we need her help."

Jesse crosses his arms, nodding. "I agree with Y/N. Something's off. I have this odd feeling that whatever awaits us at the top of this staircase isn’t going to be friendly."

Lukas lets out a quiet breath, nodding in agreement. "And I’ve never known your instincts to be wrong." A chill runs through me at his words. That’s what worries me.

"Stay sharp, don’t let your guard down." I whisper, and they both nod in understanding.

But before we can move, Harper’s voice cuts through the quiet.

"I’m sorry to hear you feel that way, Y/N. Sorry, I just couldn’t resist a good eavesdrop." Her words hold a teasing lilt, but there’s something else beneath them—something uneasy. Her gaze flickers between me, Jesse, and Lukas. "I promise all three of you, I am trying to help."

I don’t reply. Neither does Jesse. We just keep walking.

The staircase finally comes to an end, revealing a set of heavy oak doors standing before us. The wood is old but sturdy, the metal handles polished from years of use.

"You just gotta go through there." Harper says, nodding toward the doors.

Jesse eyes her skeptically. "A door? Like... a regular door?"

Harper grins, as cryptic as ever. "Time to step through and find out."

Jesse sighs, rolling his shoulders before gripping the handles and flinging the doors open.

Blinding light floods through the entrance. I recoil instinctively, throwing an arm up to shield my eyes. The others do the same, the sudden brightness disorienting. The warmth of artificial sunlight presses against my skin, and for a split second, everything feels weightless, like the entire world is shifting beneath us.

"Now, before you go in there, I have one more piece of advice." Harper’s voice calls out behind us, far too cheerful.

The light finally dims enough for me to see her grinning. "Don’t die!"

"What—" Jesse starts, but Harper’s hand slams into my back, shoving us all forward.

The ground vanishes beneath my feet. Wind howls in my ears as I plummet, my stomach twisting into knots. The rush of air steals my breath, and for a split second, weightlessness takes over. Then—impact.

A shock runs up my legs as I crash into something cold and soft. Snow. I groan, shoving myself up as the icy chill seeps through my clothes. Around me, the others land in similar heaps, grumbling as they scramble to their feet.

Then, the world explodes into chaos.

Shouts ring out from every direction, mixed with the deafening boom of TNT detonations. The air is thick with the acrid scent of burning powder and kicked-up snow.

People in brightly colored jumpsuits sprint across the battlefield, their shovels hacking away at the ground beneath their opponents’ feet. Others—bulkier figures stationed on higher platforms—rain down explosives, their laughter echoing over the roaring crowd.

Winslow hisses, pressing himself against my chest before diving beneath my armor for safety.

"What do we have here?" A booming voice crackles over an announcement system. "Seems as if some new competitors have entered the match!"

The voice is... familiar.

No. No, that’s impossible.

I shake my head, shoving the thought away. Focus. "What in the world did Harper dump us into?!" Petra yells, barely dodging a shovel strike as someone tries to take her out.

"It’s like some kind of crazy game!" Jesse shouts over the chaos.

"You call this a game?!" Ivor bickers, his face twisted in disbelief.

Jesse glances around before snapping his fingers. "No, Jesse’s right! It’s Spleef!" Lukas shouts, his eyes widening in realization.

"Gesundheit?" Ivor asks, clearly lost.

"No, Spleef!" Lukas repeats. "It’s a game where you try to knock the floor out from underneath people to make them fall!"

The words barely have time to register before a jumpsuit-clad man charges at Jesse, shovel in hand. Jesse jumps out of the way, and the sudden movement splits us apart—me, Jesse, and Lukas on one side, Petra and Ivor on the other.

I glance down. Beneath the snow, fresh gaps reveal something far more sinister than solid ground—lava, separated only by a thin layer of glass.

The man swings again, but Jesse is faster. With a quick shove, Jesse sends him tumbling through one of the openings.

The second his body hits the glass, pistons slam together from either side.

A sickening crunch echoes through the air. The pistons retract, revealing nothing but a pile of inventory where he once stood.

"He was my only decent teammate!" A girl yells in frustration rather than grief. Without hesitation, she storms toward Petra, intent on taking her out next.

Ivor tries to help but is immediately cut off by a barrage of flaming arrows. Before I can react, a familiar hissing noise rumbles from above.

TNT.

I whip my head up just in time to see the flashing block descending. No time to think. I lunge forward, shoving Lukas out of the way before tackling Jesse to the ground. The explosion rocks the battlefield.

A sharp ringing fills my ears, but I shake it off, scrambling to my feet. Jesse and Lukas do the same. Petra is surrounded now, multiple jumpsuit-clad players closing in on her. Ivor is still trapped, dodging bursts of fire as best he can.

"I'll get Ivor, Lukas get Petra. Y/N, you're with me!" Jesse orders, already sprinting toward Ivor.

Lukas doesn’t hesitate, bolting toward Petra. I follow Jesse, watching as he barrels into Ivor, knocking him out of the path of another falling TNT.

Lukas reaches Petra, tackling her out of the way—

But before they can get back up, a blonde girl in a green jumpsuit digs at the snow beneath them.

The floor vanishes beneath their feet. Time slows to a grinding halt. Petra and Lukas plunge toward the glass floor below.

The sharp clang of pistons slamming together reverberates through the arena, ringing in my ears like a war drum. Petra and Lukas are gone. Their bodies crushed in an instant, leaving behind nothing but scattered inventory where they had stood moments ago.

My breath catches, and my stomach lurches violently. A storm of emotions rages inside me—anger, grief, disbelief, all colliding in a sickening whirlwind. The blonde girl in the green jumpsuit throws her arms up in celebration, a grin stretched across her face as if she had just won a simple game.

No.

"No!" The word tears from my throat, raw and furious.

Her head snaps toward me, and in an instant, she charges. The world around me dims, fading into a dull, pulsing red. My grip tightens around my sword, my knuckles aching from the sheer force. My pulse pounds in my ears as my body moves on its own.

I swing. She barely dodges in time, the force of my strike sending her stumbling backward. Her back slams against the cold snow, breath catching as her wide eyes lock onto mine. She scurries away, her entire body rigid with panic.

"Hey, hey, whoa! This is a misunderstanding, dude! What are you doing?!" she stammers, her voice shaking as she inches backward. I take a step forward, blade still poised to strike.

"Hey! Using weapons is against the rules!" A voice calls out from the side, sharp and accusing.

"Rules?" I echo darkly, turning to the source of the voice.

A massive brute stands atop a raised platform, arms crossed over his chest, a sneer curling his lips.

"Not cool." He scolds, his voice heavy with disapproval. Then, without hesitation, he drops a lit block of TNT—directly over my head. The fuse burns down in seconds.

I act on instinct. With a sharp swing, I strike the TNT with my sword, sending it soaring back toward its source. The explosion rocks the platform. The brute barely has time to react before he is launched backward, disappearing into the chaos below.

"Slab is down! I repeat, Slab is down!" The announcer’s voice crackles through the arena speakers, their tone dripping with excitement.

Another voice cuts in, sharper and more commanding. "Stop the match!"

The battlefield stills instantly. The tension is suffocating, every competitor frozen in place as if waiting for judgment. I stand in the center of it all, chest rising and falling rapidly, my fingers still curled tightly around my sword.

"Not since the days of Tim have we seen such heated play!" The first announcer exclaims, their words stirring something deep in my mind.

I know those voices.

"That’s totally against the rules, right?" Slab growls, still dusting himself off from where he fell.

"Yeah, I didn’t think we could throw TNT back at the gladiators. Nice one." TThe blonde girl says, brushing snow off her suit as she stands. I don’t hear her.

"You killed my friends!" My voice shakes with fury, a barely contained snarl. "Don’t try to compliment me!"

She flinches at my words, raising her hands in surrender. "Whoa, hang on. I am not in charge here, okay? It’s them." She jerks her thumb toward the towering platform above us.

A sickening dread twists in my gut like a serpent coiled to strike. I follow her gesture, my eyes locking onto the three figures standing above, watching from their perch.

Winslow slinks out from beneath my armor, his tail flicking against my shoulder. His ears press flat against his skull as he lets out a low, warning hiss.

"Yes, we’re the ones in charge here." A female voice calls down, her stance strong and unwavering.

My blood runs cold.

"And we have never had to stop a match. Ever!" Another voice adds, barely containing their irritation.

The third figure tilts his head, his green suit pristine despite the harsh arena setting. "It definitely is strange, Mevia. What is going on here?"

That name crashes into me like a boulder. Mevia.

My aunt Mevia. No.

Before I can even process that, my eyes snap to the second figure. Green suit, calculating gaze, rigid posture. Uncle Otto. A sharp, stifling weight crushes my lungs, my breath caught in my throat.

And then—

I see him.

The last figure. Purple swirling suit. White hair. Everything inside me locks up.

It can’t be. He is dead.

I killed him. I made sure he died.

My vision sways, the arena distorting at the edges as my pulse pounds erratically. My fingers twitch, trembling against the hilt of my sword. My breaths are coming too fast, too shallow, as though the very air around me is vanishing.

"I want answers, immediately!" The man in the purple suit demands, his voice sharp, commanding. With a smooth motion, he builds a bridge down to the arena. Mevia and Otto follow without hesitation, descending toward us.

"Jesse, we need to leave. Now." My voice barely comes out, hoarse and broken.

Jesse frowns, his brow creasing. "What? Why?"

I can’t even look at him.

Every muscle in my body is locking up, an unbearable wave of fear crashing down on me.

"Because they’re—" The words die in my throat.

"Well, this is interesting." Otto muses, his expression unreadable as he studies us.

The man in the purple suit steps closer. The air around me grows thin, suffocating. My pulse roars in my ears, each beat erratic and painful. A violent tremor runs through me, my body betraying every instinct I have to stay calm. My heart slams against my ribs, each pulse louder than the last. The realization crashes over me like a tidal wave.

It is him.

"I hope those fancy clothes don't stain because I'm gonna make you pay for what you did to my friends!" Jesse growls, gripping his blade tightly, his body tensed like a coiled spring.

Across from him, Mevia lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes. "Ugh, lashing out just because your friends were eliminated." Her voice is thick with condescension, as if she’s heard this a thousand times before.

"Kind of sore loser behavior, don’t you think, sport?" Hadrian mutters, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze cool and unimpressed.

Otto, standing a little apart from the other two, hesitates before nodding. "It is part of the games." He agrees, though his reluctance is evident in his tone.

Jesse clenches his jaw, his anger bubbling over. "Are you people crazy?! People are dying out here, and you're still talking about games?!" His voice echoes across the arena, cutting through the air like a blade.

I step forward, grabbing Jesse’s wrist in an attempt to pull him back from the edge of whatever reckless decision he’s about to make. His head snaps toward me, eyes burning with frustration and confusion. I shake my head, silently urging him to stand down, to not make things worse.

He yanks his arm out of my grip. The message doesn’t get through.

"Oh, wow. You don’t know, do you?" Otto steps forward, his expression unreadable. "Your friends aren’t dead."

Jesse’s anger falters, his brows furrowing. "Wait, what? How?"

"When people are eliminated in the games, they don’t die." Otto explains, his tone softer now, almost as if trying to ease the tension.

"Ha! That would be wasteful." Hadrian scoffs, a smirk tugging at his lips.

That grin. A shiver crawls up my spine, my stomach twisting with disgust. He hasn't changed a bit.

"Obviously." Mevia drawls, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "They come back, and then we have them go work in the mines."

At her words, my blood runs cold. Something shifts behind us, and all three of us turn.

Across the arena, Lukas and Petra are being dragged off by two gladiators, their arms pinned behind their backs. Their movements are sluggish, exhausted, but they’re alive. The relief is instant, but it’s short-lived.

Jesse immediately whirls back toward the Old Builders. "Let my friends go." He demands, his voice as firm as steel.

Hadrian barely spares him a glance. "Sorry, sport. But they were eliminated." He says with a careless shrug, as if their suffering is little more than an inconvenience.

"It’s called 'respawning,' champ. We’re not monsters." He adds, his voice edged with mock offense.

Jesse glares, fingers twitching at his side, his frustration barely restrained.

Otto clears his throat, stepping in as if to smooth things over. "Ahem. In our games, when people die, they reappear in one of our respawn zones."

"I've heard its still pretty painful though." Mevia adds with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Jesse barely has time to process this before Hadrian turns his full attention back on us, his expression sharpening. "Well, sport, now that you've come and interrupted our games, I’m sure our fans would love to know how you got here. Spill."

There’s a shift in his voice. It’s a demand, not a request. The command settles in my bones like ice, a weight pressing down on my chest. My breath shortens. I know that tone. I know it all too well.

Jesse lifts his chin defiantly. "I don’t think that’s any of your business."

Hadrian’s expression darkens, his jaw tightening as his lips curl into a sneer.

"Jesse!" I hiss, grabbing his arm again and pulling him back from Hadrian’s reach. "You really shouldn’t challenge him!"

Jesse jerks away, rolling his eyes. "Why? What’s he gonna do?"

Hadrian’s attention flickers from Jesse to me. A slow, predatory smile spreads across his face.

"You should listen to your friend here." He says smoothly, his voice dipping into something far more dangerous. "That little stunt might just land you in the mines, slugger."

His gaze locks onto me. My entire body seizes up. His stare feels like it’s pinning me in place, his eyes filled with something calculating, something cold. The air in my lungs turns thin, my chest constricting. My fingers twitch at my sides, my muscles screaming for me to move, to react, to do something. But I can’t.

"Ugh, let’s not get hot-headed, Hadrian. Jesse and Y/N are with me." A voice cuts through the tension. Harper.

Hadrian’s expression flickers, his grin widening as he finally pulls his gaze away from me. "Well, if it isn’t Harper." He drawls, turning his full attention to her.

Beside him, Mevia tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Wait... Y/N?" Her gaze shifts toward me, her expression hardening as realization dawns.

The air turns suffocating. They know who I am.

I stay silent. My entire body feels locked in place, every muscle tensed as if expecting a blow that hasn’t landed yet.

"What?! Y/N? You're supposed to be dead!" Hadrian’s voice cuts through the air like a blade, sharp and furious.

All eyes snap to me.

Jesse looks between us, confusion flashing into suspicion. "You know them?"

I don’t answer. I keep my gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. My pulse hammers in my ears, drowning out the sounds of the arena around me.

Hadrian chuckles, low and cruel. "Oh, you didn't tell them? How cute." He mocks, his tone dripping with amusement. "Go on then." His smirk widens, his eyes glinting with something sadistic.

"Tell us what?" Jesse demands, stepping closer. His voice is edged with something I can’t place—betrayal? Anger? "What are you hiding, Y/N?"

I force my mouth to open, but the words don’t come. I feel trapped, suffocated under their gazes.

"I'm not hiding anything! I didn’t know..." My voice trails off into something barely audible.

Jesse’s expression darkens. "Didn't know what?!"

Ivor steps forward, his sharp eyes narrowing. "What in the Overworld is going on here?"

Hadrian lets out a bored sigh and waves his hand dismissively. "This is boring. If you won’t tell them, I will." He straightens, his gaze locking onto mine with that same self-satisfied grin. "I am Y/N’s father."

The world lurches. A sudden, crushing weight settles on my chest, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Jesse’s eyes widen in disbelief. Ivor stiffens beside him. Silence stretches between us, thick and unbearable.

I don’t look up. I keep my stare fixed to the floor, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. My worst nightmare has become a reality.

Hadrian watches, amused at my paralysis. His expression is relaxed, casual, like this is just another game to him. "So... Y/N, mind explaining how you're still alive?" He inspects his nails, feigning boredom.

Something sparks inside me. I finally find my voice. "I could ask you the same thing." My words come out sharper than I expect, a sneer curling my lips before I can stop it.

Hadrian raises a brow, clearly entertained. "Oh, someone’s a little feisty."

The anger building in my chest flares hotter, burning away the cold fear that had held me still. "Yeah, well, that tends to happen when a monster murders your entire family in front of you." My voice shakes with rage, my nails digging into my palms.

Hadrian tilts his head, as if pondering my words. Then, that sickening smirk returns.

"Not the entire family." He says, his voice low and deliberate. "After all, I'm not the monster who killed your sister."

The air in my lungs turns to ice. A twisted grin stretches across his face, predatory and cruel. Winslow jumps off my shoulder, landing in a low crouch, his fur bristling. A deep, warning growl rumbles from his throat. My mind goes blank.

Hadrian takes a slow step forward, watching me with amusement. "See?" His voice is almost gentle, condescending. "I'm not the monster here."

The pause stretches between us, the arena deathly silent. "You are."

A fresh wave of nausea rolls through me. "I am not a monster." I snap, my voice tight with barely controlled rage.

Hadrian chuckles darkly. "Oh, but you are." His expression hardens, his eyes narrowing. "I don’t see innocent people murdering their own siblings."

The words slam into me like a physical blow. For a moment, I forget how to breathe. I forget how to move.

Hadrian watches me, drinking in my silence, waiting for my reaction. I clench my fists so tight my nails bite into my skin, but I don’t say a word. I can’t. Because he knows exactly where to cut me open. And he just did.

"Hey! If anyone here is a monster, it's you!" Jesse shouts, stepping in front of me, his stance rigid with defiance. His arm stretches out protectively, blocking me from Hadrian’s gaze. "You're the one killing people and sending them to work in a mine!"

Hadrian exhales sharply, his amusement barely concealed beneath a condescending smirk. "Oh, how cute." He drawls. "Hiding behind your lover boy?" He takes a step forward, eyes gleaming with sadistic delight as they flick between Jesse and me. "Tell me then, lover boy... Why don't I show you what kind of monster they are?"

He inches closer, his movements slow, deliberate, taunting. Winslow leaps in front of me, fur bristling, claws fully extended as he lets out a low, threatening growl.

Jesse doesn't back down. He tightens his grip on his blade and pulls me behind him with a firm, protective motion. His expression is unwavering, his eyes locked onto Hadrian like a predator ready to strike.

Hadrian clicks his tongue in mock disappointment. "Tsk, maybe I was wrong. You aren’t a monster at all." He muses, tilting his head. Then his voice drops, laced with something venomous. "You’re just a pathetic worm. Just like your sister. Too weak to even defend yourself."

Something inside me snaps. The world blurs. Before I fully realize what I’m doing, I shove past Jesse and Winslow, my feet carrying me straight to Hadrian. My vision tunnels, my breath quickens, my pulse hammers against my ribs.

"Aww, done hiding? It's about ti—"

I don’t let him finish. Years of rage, grief, and buried emotions come roaring to the surface as I swing my fist with every ounce of strength I have.

My knuckles collide with his jaw. A sickening crack echoes through the air as Hadrian stumbles, his smirk vanishing in an instant. He collapses onto the ground, clutching his face in shock.

The fury in my chest surges hotter, burning through any semblance of restraint. I pull my arm back, ready to hit him again, ready to wipe that look off his face for good—

But before I can, strong hands seize me from behind. A harsh yank wrenches me backward, my feet barely brushing the ground as I struggle violently. My pulse roars in my ears, my body twisting, kicking, trying to break free.

Then—cold metal presses against my throat.

The blade is sharp, unforgiving. A warning.

Winslow lets out a furious yowl, his claws slashing at the air as one of the gladiators holds him back. He thrashes in their grip, hissing, his golden eyes blazing with fury.

"You alright, boss?" One of the gladiators asks, his tone stiff with concern as Hadrian slowly rises to his feet.

Hadrian exhales sharply, flexing his jaw before rubbing it, his fingers pressing against the red imprint of my fist. For a moment, he just stands there, staring at me, his expression unreadable. Then—he laughs.

It’s low, quiet at first, but it grows. It curls through the air, thick and cruel, amusement laced into every note.

"Yes, I'm fine." Hadrian says, waving a hand dismissively. "Release them."

The blade is pulled away from my neck. Winslow is let go at the same time, and the moment he’s free, he leaps back onto my shoulder, pressing his face against my cheek. His fur is still raised, his tiny body trembling with rage.

I swallow hard, my breathing unsteady, my hands shaking as the reality of what just happened settles in. Hadrian steps forward, his grin slow, calculated.

"There it is." He murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "There’s that little killer I know."

I freeze. 

His eyes bore into mine, triumphant, victorious. "Once a monster, always a monster."

The words land like a dagger to the chest. I stand there, rooted in place, the heat of my anger suddenly suffocated by the weight of realization. He baited me. And I fell for it.

Chapter Text

Authors note: These next few chapters will have slight themes of depression, anxiety, and PTSD. It is from my personal experience with these things. FAN FICTION IS NOT THERAPY. If you struggle with any of these things, please seek professional help. If I see any hate comments directed at someone sharing their experience, the commenter will be reported, blocked, and their comment deleted.

"Hadrian. That's enough." Otto's voice is firm, though there's an edge of exasperation to it as he steps forward, attempting to ease the rising tension. "This is certainly an unexpected twist of events."

"You're telling me." Harper crosses her arms, eyeing me uneasily before glancing toward Jesse. "I'm here for Jesse."

Hadrian's grin barely falters as he turns his attention to Jesse. "Oh really? So tell me, champ, why do you think Harper brought you here?"

Jesse doesn't flinch under Hadrian's gaze. His fists clench at his sides, his glare unwavering. "We just want to get our friends and go home." He states, his voice low and firm.

Hadrian hums, his expression shifting into something far too pleased. "Sorry, champ. This is your home now." His gaze flickers toward me, his smirk stretching wider. "And as for you, Y/N... Welcome back."

Jesse lets out a low growl, his body tensing as he takes a step forward, but I place a hand on his shoulder before he can do something reckless. He hesitates, glancing at me. I shake my head. This time, he listens, though the frustration rolling off him is almost palpable.

"No." Jesse argues, his voice edged with finality. "We've been lost in your stupid portal hallway long enough. We're going home."

Something shifts in Hadrian's expression, the amusement in his eyes sharpening into something more calculating. "Meaning... you need my Atlas. Very interesting." He tilts his head as if considering his next move. "Well, that's all well and good, but I'm confused. Why would we ever give anything to someone like you?" His hands clasp behind his back, his posture stiff and rigid.

Jesse exhales sharply through his nose, his confidence unwavering. "Because I have something you want."

Hadrian scoffs. "Yes, I suppose you do. I'll make you a deal, slugger. You can have the Atlas..." He raises a hand and points directly at me. "For that."

A cold shiver rips through me. Winslow growls, his fur bristling as he bares his teeth in disgust.

Jesse steps in front of me instantly, blocking Hadrian's view with his own body. "Not a chance in hell." He growls, his voice seething with barely contained fury.

Hadrian rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Well then, what could you possibly have that would be of any worth to me?"

Jesse's expression barely shifts. Instead, he reaches into his inventory and pulls out the glowing Redstone Heart.

A collective gasp escapes Mevia, Hadrian, and Otto, their eyes widening in unison.

"The Redstone Heart!" Hadrian's smirk finally fades as he stares at the artifact in disbelief. His gaze flickers toward Harper, something unreadable in his expression. "Seems like just yesterday someone took off with that and vowed never to return with it."

Harper shrugs, an almost smug glint in her eyes. "Oh, but I didn't bring it back. Jesse did."

Hadrian exhales through his nose, clearly irritated. "That's no toy, slugger. How about you just hand it over, huh?" He takes a step forward, his hand outstretched, his tone as smooth as ever.

Jesse's grip tightens around the Heart. "Nuh-uh, Hadrian. You're not getting one finger on this thing until you hand over my friends."

Hadrian's easygoing smirk wavers for a fraction of a second before irritation takes over. "I'm not a big fan of haggling, Jesse." He grumbles, his tone darkening. "Here's the way my offer works. You give me the Heart, you and your friends go back down to those portals, and I never have to look at your insignificant face again."

"Uh, without the Atlas? But we need it to get home!" Ivor huffs, crossing his arms.

Jesse scoffs, unimpressed. "That's your idea of an offer? Seriously? That's terrible."

Hadrian bristles at the remark, his irritation bubbling over. "Terrible? I'll tell you what's terrible—"

"Hadrian!" Otto's voice cracks like a whip, sharper now, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Hadrian exhales sharply through his nose, composing himself. Then, to my absolute disgust, his grin returns. "Well, I do admit, the kid isn't afraid to play a little hardball." He muses. "Even I think that's admirable. Well... you need the Atlas. I need competitors. And after your unexpected intrusion, I seem to be short a team."

The realization dawns before he even finishes.

"So how about this?" Hadrian continues, his voice dipping into something far too satisfied. "You play in the games. If you win, the Atlas is yours to keep."

Jesse's lips press into a thin line.

"And if we lose?" I ask, my voice flat as I arch an eyebrow.

Hadrian chuckles, shaking his head. "Sharp as ever, I see." His grin stretches wider, dripping with malice. "If your team loses, you'll all be sent to the mines... forever."

The words hang in the air, suffocating in their weight. Jesse crosses his arms, nodding once. "Sounds fun. Can't wait to see what other games there are."

Hadrian claps his hands together, all signs of previous frustration vanishing in an instant. "Well then, a deal has been struck! To the games!"

Otto sighs, adjusting his glasses. "Wonderful. I suppose we can carry forward with the official—"

"Oh, Otto, enough!" Hadrian interrupts, waving him off with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Add it on your own time."

Then his smirk shifts and something even more sinister creeps into his expression. "Oh, but there's one other thing I want." He pauses, drawing out the moment.

"If they lose... Harper has to go to the mines too."

Harper stiffens beside me. I clench my jaw, biting my tongue so hard I nearly taste blood. Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to say something, to lash out, to call him every name I can think of—

But I know better. I grit my teeth and say nothing.

Hadrian grins like a cat playing with its prey, reveling in our silence. "Oh, gravel." Harper mutters under her breath, clearly just as irritated as I am.

Hadrian just chuckles.

And I swear, I've never wanted to wipe that smug look off his face more than I do right now.

"Harper, wanna be a friend and show our new competitors to where they'll be staying?" Hadrian's voice drips with false politeness, but his tone leaves no room for argument. It isn't a request—it's an order.

Harper's jaw tightens, her fists clenching at her sides. "Sure thing." She grits out, her voice barely concealing her frustration.

She turns sharply on her heel, and Jesse, Ivor, and I exchange a glance before following. The snow crunches beneath our boots as we trail behind her, the tension thick between us.

"Jesse! This was not part of the plan!" Harper hisses once we're far enough from Hadrian. She scowls at him, her frustration finally boiling over. "Wrapped up in one of Hadrian's deals... Just what I was trying to avoid!"

Jesse throws up his hands. "Wait, but this was your plan! You said you had it all worked out!"

Harper abruptly stops walking, her back going rigid.

"Yeah... about that." She hesitates, shifting uncomfortably. "I didn't think you'd willingly come here. I might've... acted in haste. Before, uh... I could work out all the details."

Jesse's expression hardens. "So you were making it up as you went."

Harper sighs, rubbing her temples. "I know how it sounds, but I really am sorry."

Ivor scoffs, crossing his arms. "Bold strategy. Completely reckless, but bold."

I roll my eyes, already fed up with the excuses. "No, you're not sorry." My voice comes out sharp, each word laced with barely restrained anger.

Harper looks at me, startled.

"If you were really sorry, you would've helped us instead of blaming us for making a deal to get our friends back." I step forward, my fists curling at my sides. "You're the reason we're here. You're the reason Petra and Lukas were killed. So unless you have a real plan to fix this, I don't want to hear anything else from you. Do I make myself clear?"

Silence stretches between us.

Harper swallows hard and nods. "Yes... you do." She exhales, some of the fight draining from her shoulders. "Come on, I'll show you where the competitor village is."

We walk down a snow-blanketed path, the cold air biting against my exposed skin. The further we go, the quieter it gets. Even the wind has died down, leaving only the distant echo of voices from the arena behind us.

Harper breaks the silence first. "We used to have competitors from all over. People would travel here just to play the games." She says, her voice carrying a distant, almost nostalgic tone. "At least, until the others ruined it."

"What happened?" Jesse asks, arching an eyebrow.

Harper's mouth twists into a grimace. "Hadrian and Mevia let power go to their heads. They started pitting people against each other just for sport. Forced people to stay here." Her voice tightens with disgust. "It isn't right."

I feel my jaw clench at her words. No, it isn't.

Ahead, a large gate looms before us, massive and imposing. Two crossed swords, sculpted entirely from ice, hang above it like a silent warning. The frozen blades gleam under the pale light.

Harper stops in front of it, letting out a quiet sigh before motioning us forward. "Come on. I'll show you where you'll be staying."

We step into what Harper calls the competitor village, but calling it a village feels... wrong.

Cabins, small and coated in frost, are scattered throughout the area. They look sturdy enough, but there's an undeniable bleakness to them, as if the cold itself has seeped into their walls. People in different-colored jumpsuits roam the snowy paths, some sitting on the edges of their porches, others dragging themselves between buildings with an exhausted, lifeless gait.

They all look miserable.

My gaze shifts to the walls surrounding the village, lined with old, tattered posters. One in particular catches my attention—a man clad in white and gold armor, staring down with an expression of quiet confidence. Definitely not one of the Old Builders. Who is he?

"They're all in the games?" Ivor asks, his gaze flickering between the worn-down players.

"Yep." Harper confirms. "At least, the ones who aren't stuck working in the quartz mines. Those poor souls are just... waiting for their next shot." Her voice is heavy with pity.

Jesse glances around, frowning. "Doesn't seem too terrible. At least they get to play games all day."

I resist the overwhelming urge to facepalm.

Harper stops in her tracks and turns toward him, exhaling sharply. "Oh no, you don't get it." She gestures toward a group of players huddled near one of the cabins, their faces hollow, their eyes distant. "This isn't fun for them, Jesse."

She turns away, shaking her head. "They didn't make a deal like you did. They're stuck here until they win."

Jesse's expression shifts, the weight of her words finally sinking in.

"And if they lose?" Ivor asks, his voice quieter now.

"Hadrian sends them to toil in the mines." Harper's voice drops to a grim whisper. "If they're lucky, they'll get another shot at the games." She pauses, glancing toward the frozen horizon. "But that might take a while."

The idea settles uncomfortably in my stomach.

Harper exhales and steps forward. "I'm gonna go confer with Otto. We go way back and, well... he's usually the most reasonable of the three."

She walks off, leaving the three of us standing there, surrounded by the weight of everything we just learned.

"Hold on a moment! We still haven't found Petra or Lukas!" Ivor calls, his voice sharp with urgency.

Harper stops mid-step, turning back to face us. A deep sigh escapes her as she pinches the bridge of her nose, frustration evident. "Hadrian must've sent them through the portal to work in the mines." She mutters. "Which is technically against the rules. They're not supposed to go there until their whole team is eliminated."

Jesse's fists tighten at his sides, his jaw clenching. "Nuh-uh. No way! They do not get to put my friends in their stupid mines!" His glare locks onto the gladiator guarding the portal, his stance radiating defiance.

"Ooh, it's been too long since I was part of a prison break!" Ivor exclaims, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Harper raises an eyebrow. "You've got a colorful backstory, don't you?"

"You have no idea." Ivor grins, a little too pleased with himself.

Harper shakes her head before continuing, her tone carefully measured. "Hadrian always was one for maximizing useful—" She hesitates, catching herself mid-sentence. "—productivity."

Something about the way she says it makes my stomach turn.

Harper exhales, placing a hand on Jesse's shoulder, an attempt at reassurance. "See what you can do here. I'm gonna try and find Otto. I've got confidence in you, Jesse. You might just get out of this."

With that, she strides off, disappearing into the crowd.

Jesse immediately turns to me and Ivor, his eyes set with determination. "We've gotta get our friends out of the mines. Fast."

"I'll see if these other competitors have any... promising leads." Ivor nods, already scanning the area.

I open my mouth to suggest something, but Jesse interrupts me before I can get a word out.

"No, you're with me." His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. "After what happened back there, I'm not letting you wander off alone."

I narrow my eyes at him. "What? Since when do I need a babysitter?" I cross my arms, already irritated.

Jesse doesn't waver. "I'm not babysitting you. I'm just... making sure you don't hurt yourself or someone else." He shrugs, like it's the most casual thing in the world.

I roll my eyes. "That's called babysitting. Why do you suddenly need to keep an eye on me at all times?"

Jesse exhales a long, defeated sigh. His shoulders drop slightly, and he runs a hand through his hair before finally speaking.

"Okay, you got me." He admits. "I... I'm worried about you. I mean, I can't imagine how you must feel right now." His voice lowers, the frustration giving way to something softer. "Your abusive father, who you thought was dead, is still alive, and now he has our friends captive. The worst part is you're acting like it's not bothering you."

I keep my expression blank. "Because it's not bothering me. I'm perfectly fine." The words come out effortlessly, detached, like muscle memory. I turn on my heel, eager to drop the subject.

Before I can take another step, Jesse's hand closes around my wrist. I freeze.

His grip isn't rough, but it's firm, grounding. A silent plea for me to stay.

"Y/N, stop." His voice isn't forceful, but something about the way he says it makes me obey without thinking.

Winslow nuzzles against my cheek, his tiny body warm against mine, a stark contrast to the cold air biting at my skin. His soft purring hums in my ears, an unspoken reassurance.

"What?" I mutter, my voice quieter now.

Jesse's eyes search mine, unwavering. "You're doing it again. Running away from your problems, hiding your feelings."

A sigh escapes me before I can stop it. "I know, I know." I mutter, already tired of the conversation. "Turning off my emotions by repressing them isn't healthy, and I should stop doing it, blah, blah, blah. I've heard it all before from you and Olivia." I roll my eyes, trying to brush it off.

Jesse doesn't laugh. He doesn't even smirk. He just looks at me, concern flickering in his eyes. And for some reason, that's worse.

"You've heard it so much because it's true. You can't keep hiding your emotions." Jesse huffs, his frustration evident. His arms cross over his chest, his brows furrowing in concern.

I scoff, mirroring his stance. "Then how do I fix it?" My voice comes out sharper than I intend, irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

Jesse doesn't flinch. "Tell me how you feel. How you really feel." His eyes lock onto mine, unwavering, waiting.

"You really wanna know?" I challenge, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't hold anything back." He says, nodding once.

A deep sigh pushes past my lips, my fingers curling into fists as I force myself to speak.

"Fine." I snap. "I'm pissed."

Jesse doesn't move, doesn't interrupt, so I keep going, the words spilling out like a dam breaking.

"My father is still alive after I thought he was dead for eight years. Meaning my efforts to kill him were for nothing. My family died for nothing! And hey, since fate hates me, it may as well have my undead father torture other people in my absence!" I pace back and forth, each step kicking up loose snow. My voice rises, cracking slightly, but I don't stop.

"He created these 'games' to satisfy his bloodlust! Now, let's make it even worse—he has Lukas and Petra under lock and key! So we can't leave until he gives them back, which is probably never!" My breaths come short and fast, anger burning through me like wildfire.

"And the grand finale." I throw up my hands. "You made a deal with Hadrian! A deal that he's probably going to try and back out of just so he can keep all of us here for the rest of our lives!"

The last words leave my mouth in a sharp exhale, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I struggle to catch my breath. My head spins slightly from the outburst, but I don't care.

I take in a deep gulp of air, forcing myself to steady my breathing. Jesse just stands there, frozen, his eyes wide with shock.

"There." I mutter, my voice raw. "I told you. Happy?"

Jesse blinks, shaking his head as if snapping himself back into reality. "Yes—I mean, I'm not happy about what you said, but I am happy you told me." His voice softens, his gaze searching mine. "But I still want you to stay close. Hadrian is manipulative. He could try to hurt you, and I can't—I won't lose you too."

The sincerity in his tone makes something twist uncomfortably in my chest.

I force out a bitter laugh. "I'm not yours to lose, Jesse. The only reason you want to keep me alive is because I know Hadrian's tricks."

Something flickers across Jesse's face—hurt, brief but undeniable.

"That's not true!" His voice is louder this time, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "I need you to stay alive because I lov—" He catches himself, eyes widening slightly. "I care about you."

For a split second, everything else fades. I stare at him, curiosity gnawing at the back of my mind. What was he about to say?

Jesse's face is tense, his shoulders stiff, as if he's bracing for my reaction.

I shake my head, pushing the thought aside. "Fine, I'll stay close to you." I grumble, rolling my eyes. "But don't expect me to be happy about it."

Jesse exhales, clearly relieved, and without another word, he turns toward the yellow team. Reluctantly, I follow.

We approach a small group, their bright yellow jumpsuits standing out against the icy backdrop. One of them—a blonde girl—immediately perks up when she spots us.

"Wow! Hey, you two were those crazy people in extreme spleef!" She exclaims, looking between us with a smirk. "Decent. Not as good as Tim, but decent."

Jesse and I exchange a confused glance. Jesse recovers first, flashing a confident grin. "Well, this might surprise you, but I'm better than Tim."

The blonde girl's expression immediately shifts into one of disbelief. "Psh, no way! No one is like Tim, much less better than him." Her voice is firm, almost defensive. Then, her expression softens as her gaze drifts off slightly. "Here's the secret—we're all just trying to be like Tim. He's perfect..."

I glance at Jesse as he shoots me a baffled look. I shrug. Whoever this Tim guy is, he's apparently the legend around here.

"Okay... we'll leave you to it then." Jesse shrugs, taking a step back, his tone casual but laced with disinterest. I follow, neither of us looking back as we put distance between ourselves and the yellow team.

As we walk, Jesse rubs the back of his neck, his brow furrowing. "Who's Tim?"

I shake my head. "I have no idea." The name means nothing to me, and from Jesse's expression, it's clear he's just as lost.

We don't dwell on it. Jesse's focus shifts as he spots the green team and makes his way toward them.

One of them, a blonde girl with beads in her hair, immediately recognizes us.

My blood runs cold. She's the one who killed Lukas and Petra.

Her face lights up as we approach, as if she hasn't done anything wrong. "Whoa, it's you two! From Spleef! You were like... amazing." Her voice is light, casual, like she's talking about the weather. "I'm Nell, and I'm like so sorry about your friends. I get that you're probs upset..."

Upset? The word barely registers before a white-hot rage ignites in my chest.

"Upset?!" I scoff, my voice seething with venom. My body moves on its own, lunging at her before I can think twice. "I'll show you upset when I shove my foot up your a—"

Winslow leaps off my shoulder, retreating to safety just as Jesse's arms lock around my waist, holding me back.

"Y/N, stop it!" Jesse grits out, tightening his grip as I struggle against him. "Fighting is gonna get us nowhere!"

I wrestle against his hold for a moment longer, breathing hard, before I finally force myself to stop. My hands ball into fists at my sides as Jesse cautiously releases me.

"Fine. Fine." I mutter, the words bitter on my tongue.

Jesse doesn't give me a chance to say more. He turns back to Nell, his expression tense but composed. "Speaking of our friends, have you seen them lately?"

Nell hesitates, rubbing the back of her neck. "Nope, sorry. They're like... probably in the mines? And that's on me... such bad karma."

I stay silent, my glare burning into her.

She shifts uncomfortably under my gaze. "I will never do that to one of your friends again because, man... I do not want to be on their bad side." She motions toward me with a small, nervous laugh.

Smart choice. Trying to redirect the conversation, Nell suddenly perks up. "I gotta say, you keep playing like that... You'll be, like, Tim status! Tim, like, won. Like, you could!" She waves her arms wildly, her excitement almost dizzying. "People are already talking about it!"

Jesse grins. "Good. People should pay attention."

I resist the urge to groan. Nell tilts her head, unimpressed. "Whoa... I don't know if Tim was that full of himself. Seems a little hubristic, don't you think?"

Jesse's grin falters slightly, but before he can respond, Nell claps her hands together. "Listen, I still feel super bad about taking out your friends... I owe you. If you two ever need anything, just come and ask. Okay?" She winks mischievously.

I stare at her blankly. What is she, a drug dealer?

"Yeah, sure." Jesse mutters, clearly ready to be done with the conversation. He turns, walking away, and I follow close behind, making sure we're out of earshot before speaking.

"That was... odd." Jesse muses, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, but at least we know something about this Tim guy." I say, my voice tinged with skepticism. "He won the games, which means no one else ever has."

Jesse nods, but his expression darkens.

And the thought lingers in the back of my mind—does this 'Tim' even exist? Hadrian isn't the type to let anyone get the upper hand.

"If no one besides Tim has ever won, then we'll be the next victors." Jesse says, his grin full of confidence.

I shake my head. "You say that now, but you don't know Hadrian like I do." My voice is edged with something colder, something bitter. "He's a master manipulator. He'll use anything and everything against you, even the people you hold closest to your heart."

Jesse's grin fades, his expression shifting to something more serious. "Speaking from experience?"

I nod once. Jesse watches me for a beat, like he wants to ask more, but he doesn't press.

We make our way toward another green team member, a woman with a stocky, muscular build. She stands off to the side, sharpening a weapon, her shoulders tense with quiet focus. She could probably throw me across the arena if she wanted to.

Jesse steps forward first. "Uh... hey."

The woman barely looks up. She drags the whetstone down the blade in slow, deliberate strokes before finally lifting her eyes. The second she recognizes him, her lip curls in disgust.

"You're the one that eliminated the only decent member of my team." She says, her voice flat, but there's an underlying irritation just beneath the surface.

Jesse crosses his arms, his stance firm. "Your teammate killed Lukas."

"Yeah, I couldn't believe Nell pulled that off either." Her tone is shockingly neutral, like it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "But don't forget, they respawned. Duh. Don't cry about it."

I inhale sharply through my nose, biting back my anger.

"We were doing what we had to do to win, until you screwed up everything." She continues. She tilts her head slightly, studying Jesse. "Next round, if I don't get you... one of the gladiators will."

"Unless I win." Jesse fires back. His voice is steady, his confidence unwavering. He smirks. "Which I will. You've got guts. I respect that. Just can't wait to see those guts on the arena floor."

I shoot Jesse a pointed look, silently willing him to shut up before he makes things worse. She exhales through her nose, almost pitying. "I feel kinda bad for you guys. Most of us got snatched up against our wills, but you guys got tricked into coming willingly. That Old Builder should've told you these games were impossible."

Jesse glances at a nearby poster. "Looks like Tim won."

The woman's fingers tighten around the hilt of her weapon. Her expression shifts—just for a second. "Yeah... Tim..."

She moves on quickly, brushing past the subject. "Well, good luck getting home." Her gaze flickers toward me. "And you—nice moves back there. Never seen anyone land a blow on Hadrian, let alone knock him on his ass."

For a split second, I almost say thank you. But then she smirks.

"But I suppose when you're raised by a monster, you turn into one." She muses, tilting her chin at me. "After all, only a monster can take down another monster. Fighting fire with fire and all that."

I clench my fists, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying something I'll regret. She turns and walks away, her words still hanging in the air like a slow-acting poison.

Jesse exhales sharply beside me. "Well, she seems like a lovely person."

I force a short laugh. "No kidding. Can't imagine how her team feels."

I watch her go, my mind drifting to the way she carried herself. She wasn't angry, wasn't filled with spite. Just... empty. Like she had already accepted her fate. Like she was only fighting to survive, not because she wanted to win.

She reminds me of myself before I met Lukas.

Jesse's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "Y/N, you coming?"

"Yeah, just got distracted." I mutter, shaking off the lingering feeling.

We walk side by side in silence. Jesse seems deep in thought before he suddenly speaks up. "She reminds me of you, you know. When we first met."

I blink, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "Hey, I wasn't that bad. Was I?"

Jesse grins, nudging me with his elbow. "No, you were worse."

I huff, opening my mouth to argue, but before I can get a word out, Jesse reaches over and ruffles my hair. I let out a startled yelp and immediately swat his hand away. "What the hell, Jesse?!"

He just laughs, his grin full of mischief. Before I can get back at him, Jesse's expression shifts, his eyes locking onto something ahead.

"Hey... that's Lukas's journal!" He exclaims, his voice sharp with recognition.

I follow his gaze.

A gladiator sits a short distance away, flipping through a familiar-looking book. Jesse is right. That's Lukas's journal—the one he used to document our adventures.

Jesse doesn't hesitate. He steps forward, his voice firm. "That book you're reading? Hand it over. It doesn't belong to you."

The gladiator barely acknowledges him. He leans back lazily, smirking as he flips a page. "Wow, that was so scary. I almost fell over." His voice drips with mockery.

I roll my eyes. Of course, it wouldn't be that easy. Then, the gladiator stiffens, tilting his head as his eyes land on me for the first time. Recognition flashes across his face.

"Hey, wait a minute." He mutters, sitting up straighter. His expression twists into something much more hostile.

He points a thick finger at me, his glare sharpening. "You... you're the pipsqueak that knocked me out of my tower."

Slab. His voice is full of venom, and the way he looks at me makes it clear—this just got a whole lot more complicated.

Chapter Text

"So, we need food." Jesse says, pacing with his hands on his hips. His brow is furrowed in deep thought. "However, that pink-haired gladiator is guarding it. No way we'll be able to get past her in one piece. There has to be somewhere else we can get food."

I shift my weight, thinking back to what Nell said earlier. Her words play back in my head as clear as if she were standing next to me. "I owe you. If you two ever need anything, come and ask."

"What if we ask Nell?" I suggest, rolling my shoulders. "She said to talk to her if we needed anything."

Jesse stops pacing and tilts his head. "You think she’ll have food?"

"It’s worth a shot." I say, glancing around for her familiar green jumpsuit. Jesse spots her first and walks toward her without hesitation. I follow, with Winslow trailing closely behind.

The moment Nell sees us approaching, she perks up. "Yo, Jesse, Y/N... uh... little furball I don’t know the name of." She greets, her gaze flicking to Winslow.

"His name is Winslow." I say, amused. "And we have a favor to ask."

Nell raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

"We're trying to bribe that guard, Facemeat. And he’s hungry." Jesse explains, nodding toward the towering gladiator.

Nell purses her lips as if considering something. "Well, if I had some wheat, I would totally give you some." She says, her voice overly casual. "Sadly, I don’t have a secret stash, and if you didn’t ask, I wouldn’t loan you some. Wink." She pauses, then actually winks at us.

Did she just announce that she was winking?

Without another word, Nell spins around and motions for us to follow. "Come on, before anyone sees us!" She whisper-yells, casting a glance over her shoulder.

Jesse and I exchange a look before following.

We do a terrible job at being inconspicuous, walking stiffly as we trail after her like we aren’t obviously sneaking off. Nell leads us through a narrow alleyway, weaving around a corner where a small patch of wheat grows, nestled against the wall. Some of the stalks are a rich golden brown, while others are still green, swaying gently in the breeze.

"Go ahead, that should be enough for your bread." Nell says, keeping a watchful eye on the alley entrance.

"All of it?" Jesse asks, surprised by her generosity.

"Of course. It'll grow back. Just leave the seeds, yeah?" Nell asks, her eyes flicking to Jesse as if testing him.

Jesse nods and gets to work, carefully harvesting the wheat and replanting the seeds as he goes. Three wheat—just the right amount.

"Nice. Looks like that should be enough for some epic loafage. That means bread." Nell adds as we head back toward the main area.

"Hopefully, bread will be enough to get Facemeat to help us,. Jesse mutters, sounding doubtful.

"Righteous." Nell says, already walking away. "They don’t let us use crafting tables, though."

I frown, thinking. "Wait, weren’t there some wooden planks by the dojo?"

Jesse snaps his fingers. "Oh yeah!" He makes his way over, examining the planks stacked against a training post. After checking to make sure no one is watching, he breaks some off and arranges them on the ground.

Within seconds, he crafts a table.

I watch as he quickly assembles the bread, moving with practiced efficiency. Finally, he holds up the finished loaf, grinning. "All done. Now we can get Lukas and Petra back."

We approach Facemeat, who watches us closely as we step forward.

"Hey, Facemeat, got some bread for you." Jesse announces, holding it out.

Facemeat’s massive fingers close around the bread, making it look ridiculously small in his grip. He turns it over once before shrugging. "Bread, huh?" He sniffs it. "Hmph. It’s not cake... but Facemeat is starving."

Without another word, he shoves the entire thing into his mouth, chewing loudly.

Jesse folds his arms, clearly annoyed. "It took me a long time to make that, so you better hold up your end of the bargain."

Facemeat snorts. "Jeez! Facemeat didn’t know you were so demanding!" He licks his fingers and waves a hand. "Wait here." He disappears through the portal.

As we wait, Ivor strolls up, his hands clasped behind his back. "Jesse, Y/N... hello." He greets in his usual dramatic fashion.

"Hey, Ivor." Jesse replies.

Ivor shifts slightly, glancing at me. "There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you, Jesse."

I immediately pick up on the hint and nod. "Alright, I can take a hint." Without argument, I step a few feet away, Winslow trotting after me.

Ivor and Jesse speak in hushed voices. I don’t eavesdrop, but I catch the sincerity in Ivor’s voice. It’s rare for him to be this genuine.

A moment later, Jesse waves me back over. As I return, the portal glows, and two familiar figures stumble out.

"Move it, respawns!" Facemeat grumbles, stepping aside as the two figures steady themselves.

Lukas and Petra.

They hesitate for a second, their eyes adjusting to the light. Seeing them in their regular clothes instead of their armor feels strangely out of place. Petra flexes her fingers like she’s trying to shake off stiffness, while Lukas glances around as if making sure this is real.

Then they spot us.

Lukas’s face brightens instantly, relief and excitement flashing across his features. Petra exhales, grinning as she shakes out her shoulders.

"Lukas!" The name leaves my mouth before I even think. I’m already moving before I realize it.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise. "Whoa! Easy, tiger!"

I crash into him, throwing my arms around him in a tight hug. He stumbles back a step but quickly recovers, laughing as he wraps an arm around me in return. For the first time since we were thrown into Hadrian’s twisted world, something finally feels right.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" I exhale, a wave of relief washing over me now that he’s finally here, safe. My grip tightens around him for a second, just to reassure myself that this is real.

Lukas chuckles softly, returning the hug. "It's good to see you too." He says, his voice carrying a warmth that makes my chest ache slightly. After everything we’ve been through, just having him here again feels like a victory.

"Jesse, Y/N!" Petra’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp and full of energy.

I turn, grinning at the sight of her. "Petra! I'm glad to see you're alive and well." Without thinking, I step toward her, arms open in invitation.

Petra eyes me suspiciously, arms folded. "What are you doing?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.

"Come on, bring it in!" I nudge my head toward her, motioning her forward.

"Uh, no thank you. I am perfectly fine over here." Petra huffs, shifting her weight like she’s ready to dodge me if I lunge.

"Aww, come on! It’s a one-time offer..." I tease, wiggling my fingers dramatically.

Petra groans, rolling her eyes. "Fine!" She grumbles, stiffly outstretching her arms.

I waste no time, wrapping her in a firm hug and squeezing just enough to annoy her. She lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Ah, you can let go of me now."

I step back, beaming at her frustration. "Worth it." I say, smug.

Petra just mutters something under her breath, shaking her head. Her expression shifts back to something more serious as she glances around. "Okay, give it to me straight. What did Harper get us into?"

My smile fades instantly. "My father, that’s what."

Petra’s eyes narrow. Lukas tenses beside me.

"What? Back up... your father?" Lukas asks, clearly thrown. "You said he was dead."

I inhale sharply, preparing myself. "Maybe I should explain."

Jesse takes over before I can. "We're in this tournament, where we play games. If we win, we get the Atlas and our ticket home." He explains, his tone light like he’s trying to soften the edges of our reality.

"Of course, if we lose, we spend an eternity mining for quartz." Ivor adds, arms crossed, his tone completely lacking Jesse’s optimism.

"And my dad, who I thought was dead?" I continue, crossing my own arms as frustration boils under my skin. "Turns out he's alive and running this whole operation. So we’re all stuck here unless we win."

Petra and Lukas exchange a look.

Neither of them says anything at first, but I can see the gears turning in their heads, processing the sheer weight of it all.

Despite the questions no doubt running through their minds, I don't speak again. My thoughts are a violent torrent of their own. Hadrian is back. Every time I look in the mirror, I see his face, hear his voice. Because deep down, I know I'm on the verge of becoming everything I swore to fight against. A one-way warpath. To. Becoming. Like. Him.

Chapter Text

"Let me get this straight." Lukas presses his palms together, exhaling slowly as if trying to process the absurdity of the situation. "Your abusive father... who you killed... is actually alive and the evil overlord of a screwed-up tournament where the punishment for losing is death and reincarnation to work in a quartz mine?"

"Yes." I deadpan.

Lukas lets out a strangled sigh, dragging a hand down his face.

"Yep. Just another normal day in our lives." Petra mutters, arms crossed, visibly displeased.

"But Jesse made a deal with Hadrian—my father, as he said before." I continue, my voice surprisingly neutral. "If we win, which is a very slim chance, we get the Atlas and our way home. If we lose, all of us go to the mines for eternity. Harper included."

Petra’s jaw tightens. "Please tell me you at least have our stuff. I don’t like being armorless here."

Jesse and I exchange a glance. Petra’s shoulders sag slightly, already reading our silence. She shakes her head in disappointment.

"I guess that’s a no on my journal too." Lukas mumbles, rubbing the back of his head.

"It’s in progress." I say with a shrug, though it does little to ease the growing unease in the air.

Lukas and Petra glance at each other, clearly unsettled.

"We need to get out of here. And soon." I say, lowering my voice, my gaze flicking around to check for eavesdroppers.

Jesse squares his shoulders. "We can’t just leave. I really think we can win this." He argues, determination flickering in his eyes.

I shake my head. "I wish I shared that optimism. Listen, I know Hadrian better than anyone. He’ll do anything to keep us here, whether that means weaseling out of deals or even exploiting your greatest weakness."

Jesse frowns, his posture stiffening. "What weakness?"

The others stay silent, all eyes locked on me.

"Us." I say, meeting his gaze. "Hadrian knows you’ll do anything for your friends, and he will use that against you."

Jesse’s expression darkens, frustration flickering across his face. "Are you saying having friends is a weakness?" He scoffs, his shoulders rising with tension.

"What? No!" I snap, irritation creeping into my voice. "I’m trying to warn you. He’s going to use Petra, Lukas, Ivor... or even me to get what he wants from you. And you’ll accept it, whatever he wants. That is your weakness."

The air around us shifts, thick with unspoken tension.

Jesse’s hands curl into fists at his sides. "At least I fight for the people I care about." He growls, his voice rising. "But what if I was like you? Running away and burying my head in the sand at the first sign of danger? Where would I be then?"

The words hit like a punch to the gut, but Jesse doesn’t stop. His anger is spilling out, raw and unfiltered.

"You’re standing here, telling me what my weakness is..." He continues, his voice shaking with emotion. "But do you even know what yours is?" His eyes burn into mine. "You lift your sword, but you have nothing to fight for! You didn’t even fight for your family! You just ran away while your siblings were slaughtered! And now you’re trying to run away all over again!"

The words land like a hammer, shattering something deep inside me. Before I even register what I’m doing, my palm collides with his cheek.

SMACK.

The sound slices through the air, sharp and unforgiving. Winslow tilts his head, his tail flicking back and forth, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere.

Jesse recoils, his face snapping to the side from the impact. A red mark blooms across his cheek almost instantly. I feel the sting in my own hand, the heat radiating from my palm.

Everything is silent. Jesse turns back to face me, his expression unreadable. One glance speaks a thousand words.

"Whoa." Lukas breathes, watching us intently.

"No kidding." Ivor mutters, his usual playfulness nowhere to be found.

The weight of what just happened settles over us like a thick fog.

"I’ve never seen them fight before." Petra murmurs, just as shocked as the others.

Jesse's glare wavers. He looks away first, his jaw tightening as he stares at the ground.

Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I turn my back to the group, rubbing them away quickly before anyone can see how much his words cut into me. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt.

"Y/N. We have a chance at winning. Apparently, Tim did." Jesse finally speaks, his voice careful, measured. His footsteps grow closer, slow and hesitant, as if he’s unsure how to approach me.

I can feel his hand hovering just above my shoulder, the warmth of it barely there, hesitating. He’s debating whether to reassure me or keep his distance.

"That's true." Lukas adds, his voice softer, like he’s trying to smooth over the tension. "He's all they talk about in the mines."

Jesse finally makes his decision. His fingers brush against my shoulder in a tentative attempt at comfort. I whirl around, smacking his hand away before I can stop myself.

Jesse pulls back immediately, a sharp intake of breath catching in his throat. He stares at me, eyes wide with something between shock and hurt. A pang of regret surges through me, my mouth parting instinctively to apologize. But I snap it shut, forcing the words back down.

"Well, at least you guys are out of the mines now." Jesse says, his voice stiffer than before. He forces himself to move on, though the tension lingers in the air between us. "According to Harper, until our entire team is eliminated, you're allowed to stay here in the village."

More footsteps crunch against the snow, signaling another approach.

"That's right. Your friends weren’t supposed to go to the mines yet." A familiar voice chimes in, pulling my gaze up.

Otto and Harper stride toward us, their expressions unreadable. "I am sincerely sorry about that." Otto continues, adjusting his glasses as if the gesture might soften Jesse’s glare.

"Oh great, what do you two want?" Jesse mutters, visibly annoyed. His shoulders stiffen, his patience wearing thin.

"Hey, now!" Harper scolds, crossing her arms. "Otto just wanted to meet you. Don’t be mad!"

"Harper’s been filling me in about you." Otto says, eyeing us both with something close to intrigue. "From the story she’s told, I’m impressed. You might actually make it to the top."

His gaze flickers between me and Jesse, assessing. "In fact, you and Y/N are the most exciting thing to happen to this place in a long time. Real wildcards."

Jesse shifts uncomfortably beside me, unsure of where this is going.

"I think you both might be a real 'Tim' in the making." Otto continues, clearly pleased by the idea. "You’ve given the other players something to look up to."

I arch an eyebrow, unimpressed. "What are we? Engaged?" My tone drips with sarcasm.

Otto blinks, clearly caught off guard. "Wait... you two aren’t together?"

"What? No!" Jesse blurts out, his face twisting in bewilderment.

A snicker comes from behind us. I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s Petra and Lukas.

I shoot them both a glare over my shoulder, silently daring them to keep laughing.

Otto hums, either ignoring our embarrassment or just pretending not to notice. "Could’ve fooled me." He muses. "The way you fight together is incredible."

Jesse and I exchange a look, unsure of what to say to that.

Otto clasps his hands behind his back. "Best not let Hadrian or your competitors catch wind of your non-relationship then." He adds, his tone casual, but something about the way he says it makes my stomach twist. "You’ve proven that together, you’re a force to be reckoned with. And the other players respect that."

Before either of us can ask what he means, Otto turns on his heel and strides away, leaving us standing there in his wake. We watch him disappear into the distance.

"Can we trust him, Harper?" Petra asks, her arms still crossed as she eyes Otto’s retreating form.

Harper exhales through her nose, clearly unsure herself. "Who knows?" She admits. "Otto’s been doing this forever. At least he seemed... interested."

Jesse frowns, rubbing the back of his neck.

I glance at Harper, my mind still turning over Otto’s words. "What did he mean by 'don’t let Hadrian or your competitors catch wind of your 'non-relationship'?" I ask, making air quotations with my fingers. "Does he want people to think we’re together?"

The question lingers, heavy in the cold air, as we all try to make sense of Otto’s strange warning.

"Seems like it." Harper says, nodding. "Otto’s got a point. You two are a force to be reckoned with when you fight together. I’ve seen it myself." Her gaze flicks between me and Jesse, sharp and calculating. "The other competitors have noticed it too. And so has Hadrian. When Jesse defended you, I’ve never seen Hadrian so angry."

"Yeah, probably because Hadrian doesn’t like being talked back to." I scoff, brushing it off.

Harper shakes her head. "Oh, that’s not it. Plenty of people have talked back to him before, and he just sent them to the mines. This is different. Hadrian knows that if he can’t separate you two, he’s in for a problem. So, it’s probably best to let people believe you’re romantically involved." She gestures between me and Jesse.

Jesse and I exchange a glance. His face instantly flushes a bright shade of red.

Harper doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just doesn’t care, because she moves on quickly. "Anyway, dorms are over there. Rest up. You three have a big day tomorrow." She motions toward a nearby building.

"Oh, that sounds awesome." Lukas sighs in relief, already heading that way. "Can’t wait to just sit for a little while."

"And in the morning..." Jesse adds, his confidence unwavering. "We're winning and getting out of here."

"I just hope the next event isn’t too deadly." Ivor mutters. His tone is almost hopeful.

Famous last words.

Stepping through the doorway, we enter a dimly lit reception area. Winslow hops onto my shoulder, his ears twitching as he scans the room with curiosity. A small desk sits in front of us, cluttered with papers and a half-eaten apple. Behind it, a bulky gladiator slouches in his chair, making the space seem even more cramped. His tired eyes flick up to us, and he lets out an exaggerated sigh, clearly unimpressed.

"Welcome to the dorms." He grunts. "Your rooms are marked with your team’s associated color. But since there are five of you, two of you will have to share."

Jesse turns to the others. "Well then, who’s gonna share a room?"

"You and Y/N can. Bye!" Petra grins mischievously before bolting down the hallway before anyone can argue.

Lukas follows her lead, winking at me smugly before taking off after her. Ivor just rolls his eyes, trailing behind them at a much slower pace.

Jesse and I are left standing there, both watching the others disappear down the hall.

Jesse scratches the back of his head, glancing at me nervously. "So, uh... I guess we’re sharing a room."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, so? We’ve slept together before. Not a big deal."

Jesse immediately turns red.

"Oh my— You know what I meant! Come on, let’s just find the stupid room and go to bed." I groan, running a hand down my face.

I head down the hall, Jesse following close behind. Winslow purrs as I scratch under his chin. Up a flight of stairs, down another dimly lit corridor. Finally, we stop in front of a spruce wood door with a red tag pinned to it. The red team’s room. This is us.

I push the door open, and the hinges let out a soft creak.

Then, I freeze. The bed inside is tiny.

There is no way it’ll fit both of us unless we press our entire bodies together.

Jesse and I look at the bed. Then at each other. Nope. Not happening.

"I’ll sleep on the floor." I decide, already moving to set up a makeshift sleeping area.

"What? No." Jesse protests immediately. "We’ll just share the bed."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling sharply. "Are you blind? That bed is tiny. We’d have to practically be on top of each other to fit."

Jesse’s face turns an even deeper shade of red.

"You want that to happen, pervert!" I accuse, throwing a pillow at him.

"Yeah—wait, no! I don’t want that to happen! I swear!" Jesse stammers, catching the pillow midair with ease. "I just— I just want you to be comfortable."

I chuckle. "Relax, I was only joking."

Jesse visibly deflates, shoulders sinking in relief. "Oh... So, I take it you’re not mad at me?"

"Why would I be?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Jesse hesitates. "Well, I was kind of a prick to you earlier."

"Kind of?" I scoff, crossing my arms.

"Okay, fine. I was a massive prick to you." He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I’m sorry."

His voice is genuine, and the guilt in his expression is real.

"Apology accepted." I say with a shrug. "Recent events have us all frustrated. I don’t blame you for being snappy."

Jesse lets out a breath of relief. "Yeah, but you’re the last person I wanted to take my frustration out on. I will admit, you had every right to hit me." He huffs, rubbing his cheek. "Also, has anyone told you just how hard you hit? Because it still stings."

I roll my eyes, stepping closer. "I’m serious. I can’t imagine how Aiden felt—"

Before he can finish, I lean in and press a quick kiss against his cheek.

Jesse freezes. I step back, a mischievous grin curling on my lips.

"There. Feel any better?" I ask, tilting my head.

Jesse just stares at me, mouth slightly open, his brain visibly short-circuiting.

It takes a full five seconds before he finally blinks and splutters, "I— You— Yeah... Feels great..."

His face is completely red, the blush stretching from his cheeks to his ears and down his neck.

I smirk, satisfied with the reaction. "Goodnight." I say, turning toward my sleeping spot.

"Yeah... goodnight..." Jesse mumbles, still dazed.

He climbs into bed without another word, switching off the light.

I settle into my makeshift bedding on the floor, exhaustion tugging at my limbs. My eyelids grow heavy, and the quiet sounds of Winslow purring in the corner lull me into sleep.

...

I wake up slowly, the heaviness of sleep still clinging to my body. My vision is hazy, and the room is shrouded in darkness, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the cracks in the wooden walls. The air is thick and stale, but something else lingers beneath it—an unmistakable, metallic scent.

Iron.

I rub the sleep from my eyes, shifting under my blanket. The fabric feels damp, sticking slightly to my skin. Confused, I reach down and lift the edge of it. My breath catches in my throat. Dark red splotches stain the blanket in uneven patterns, fresh and glistening under the dim light. That wasn’t there before.

A creeping sense of dread coils in my gut. Slowly, I turn my gaze toward the bed. My stomach lurches.

Jesse’s decapitated head rests on the pillow, his lifeless eyes staring back at me. A thick pool of blood seeps into the sheets, spilling over the edge of the mattress and dripping onto the floor in sluggish, heavy droplets. The air reeks of copper and death.

A scream rips from my throat, but I slam my hands over my mouth before it can escape fully.

"Quiet! You’ll wake the whole village up!" A voice hisses from the darkness, sharp and venomous.

I whip my head toward the sound, my entire body locking in place.

Hadrian stands at the foot of the bed, his face twisted into a sick, gleeful grin. His hands, drenched in crimson, flex at his sides, droplets of blood splattering onto the floorboards. His sword hangs loosely from his fingers, the blade slick with Jesse’s blood. The lenses of his glasses are speckled with red, catching the dim light in eerie glints.

I try to move. My muscles refuse to respond. Hadrian tilts his head, his smile widening as if relishing my horror. Then, in an instant, he lunges.

The sword clatters to the ground as his bony fingers wrap around my throat, his grip like iron, slick with fresh blood. His face is inches from mine, breath hot and reeking of something foul.

"You didn’t really think you could escape me, did you?" His voice drips with amusement, sending a cold shiver down my spine. "I’ll be with you for the rest of your pathetic life. Your mind is mine to torment!"

His grip tightens. Panic surges through me as my airways constrict. My hands claw at his, nails digging into his skin, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. My lungs burn, every gasp a failing attempt at air. My vision wavers, dark spots dancing at the edges.

Hadrian grins wider, his teeth bared like a starving predator savoring the moment before the kill.

The darkness creeps closer. My limbs grow weak, my strength fading. The last thing I see is his cold, glassy stare before everything goes black.

My eyes snap open.

My chest heaves as I gasp for air, my body jolting upright. My skin is damp with sweat, my heart hammering against my ribs. My trembling fingers fly to my throat, feeling for wounds, for bruises, for any trace of the hands that had been wrapped around it.

Nothing. I drag in a shaky breath, glancing around the room frantically. The suffocating pressure is gone. No blood, no sword, no Hadrian.

My eyes dart to the bed. Jesse is sprawled across the mattress, whole and unharmed, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. The blanket is still draped over him, the same one I had seen drenched in blood only moments ago.

It wasn’t real. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, pressing a hand against my chest in an attempt to calm my racing heart.

It was just a dream. Just a dream.

My breath still comes in ragged bursts, the panic refusing to fully subside. I need air, something to clear my head, something to ground me.

Something catches my eye. A door to a balcony, slightly ajar, moonlight spilling through the crack.

I hadn’t noticed it before. Fresh air sounds like exactly what I need.

I step onto the balcony, inhaling the crisp night air. The village below is eerily quiet, the only sounds being the distant howl of the wind and the faint crackling of torches scattered along the paths. The cold nips at my skin, but it’s a welcome contrast to the suffocating heat of my nightmare. I press my hands against the balcony railing, gripping it tightly, grounding myself in reality.

Footsteps approach from behind, light but deliberate.

"Y/N? What are you doing out here?" Jesse’s voice is groggy, still thick with sleep. He inches closer, his silhouette barely illuminated by the pale moonlight.

I don’t turn to face him. "You’re supposed to be in bed." I mutter, my voice flat.

"Yeah, and so are you." Jesse counters, stepping up beside me. His hair is a complete mess, strands sticking up in every direction. "You’re gonna catch your death out here."

I let out a soft chuckle, though there’s no humor behind it. "Just needed some air. You know how it is." My gaze remains fixed on the village, hoping he’ll take the hint and let it go.

Jesse studies me for a moment before exhaling softly. "Bad dream?"

"You have no idea." I force another chuckle, but it falls flat.

Jesse leans against the railing, watching me expectantly. "Tell me about it. Maybe it'll help get your mind off it."

I hesitate, my fingers tightening around the wood. The image of Jesse’s severed head flashes in my mind again, and a shiver crawls down my spine. "I dreamt that Hadrian decapitated you in your sleep and strangled me." The words come out too easily, too hollow. I shrug like it’s nothing.

Jesse visibly pales, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "Wow... That sounds... disturbing. Are you okay? I mean, I know recent events have been hard on you." He rakes a hand through his messy hair, struggling for the right words.

"I’ll be fine." I say, brushing it off. "You should go back to bed. We have a long day ahead of us."

Jesse doesn’t move. "Are you sure? Nightmares like that aren’t easy to get over. I should know." He forces a chuckle. "Remember when I showed up at your room in the middle of the night, bawling like a baby because I had a bad dream?"

A genuine smirk tugs at the corner of my lips. "Yeah, you begged me to stay with you."

Jesse groans, rubbing his forehead. "That’s the thing. Last time I had a nightmare, I wound up in your bed, crying my eyes out. But you... You just look unfazed, like you can’t be bothered by it." He studies me, brows furrowing. "Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you even shed a tear. When was the last time you cried?"

His words hit harder than they should. I inhale deeply, my shoulders stiffening. 

"If it’s personal, forget I asked." Jesse holds up his hands in surrender, but I shake my head.

"No, it’s fine." I pause, exhaling slowly. "The last time I cried, I was ten. I wound up with a fractured arm, broken ribcage, and a bloody lip because my father thought crying was a weakness. He said he’d beat the weakness out of me." The words feel foreign coming from my mouth, like they belong to someone else. "After that day, I vowed never to let anyone see that they got to me. Ever."

Jesse doesn’t respond right away. The silence between us is thick, heavy with things left unsaid. Then, he moves.

His hand reaches for mine, hesitating only for a second before his fingers curl around mine. "Don’t push me away... please." His voice is barely above a whisper.

I stand frozen as he slowly wraps his arms around me, his warmth seeping through the cold air. I don’t resist. I can’t find the strength to shove him away. His chin rests on the top of my head, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

For a long moment, we just stand there, holding each other as a gentle breeze rolls through the night.

"Jesse... what are we?" My voice is quiet, almost lost to the wind.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, but his grip remains firm. "I don’t know..." His hand moves up my spine, resting on my cheek. A tingling sensation stirs in my nose, but I ignore it.

Jesse leans in closer, our foreheads pressing together. His breath is warm against my lips, his eyes fluttering shut. He hesitates for a moment, then starts closing the small space between us.

That tingling sensation in my nose grows stronger. My nostrils twitch. Jesse’s lips are barely an inch away. I wait in anticipation, heart pounding, and then—

Achoo.

My head jerks to the side as I sneeze, the force of it cutting through the moment like a blade. My eyes widen. I turn to Jesse in horror. He blinks a few times, trying to process what just happened. Then, out of nowhere, he bursts into laughter.

"It’s not funny!" I grumble, shielding my face with my hands.

Jesse wipes at his eyes, still grinning. "I warned you, you’re gonna catch a cold." He places a hand on my back, gently nudging me toward the door. "Come on, let’s get back inside before you actually do get sick. And this time, you’re getting in the bed. No arguments."

"Fine." I huff, following him inside.

The bed is still small—too small. The moment we settle in, we’re pressed incredibly close. Jesse shifts slightly, trying to get comfortable, but there’s no avoiding it. If either of us moves too much, one of us is definitely falling off.

We exchange a glance, both silently acknowledging the awkwardness of the situation. We’re in for a long night.

Chapter Text

Jesse's POV:

Golden light filters through the cracked balcony door, painting the room in soft hues of orange and pink. The warmth beside me is familiar, steady, and far too close for my heart to handle this early in the morning. I blink the sleep from my eyes, turning my head slightly, only to find Y/N sleeping peacefully.

Their face is bathed in the morning glow, their back pressed against the wall, their expression softer than I’ve ever seen it. No tension in their jaw, no fire in their eyes, no weight of the past dragging them down—just quiet, undisturbed rest. A loose strand of hair falls across their nose, twitching slightly as they breathe.

A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips before I can stop it. Without thinking, I reach out and gently tuck the stray hair behind their ear, careful not to wake them. My fingers barely brush their skin, but even that light touch makes my heart hammer in my chest. If Y/N wakes up right now, I’m dead.

Memories of last night resurface, that one question echoing in my mind.

"What are we?"

I had no answer then, and even now, I still don’t. I mentally kick myself for how dumb I must have sounded. I could have said something—anything—better than just, “I don’t know.” Because the truth is, I do know.

I run a hand through my hair, exhaling quietly. My eyes flicker back to them, taking in every detail—the way their lips part slightly as they breathe, the slow rise and fall of their chest, the way they look completely untouched by the chaos of our lives, just for this fleeting moment.

I inch forward, hesitating for only a second before pressing my lips softly against their forehead. The contact is brief, but it’s enough to make my breath catch. I pull away, studying them again, voice barely a whisper. "What are you doing to me?"

My hand moves on its own, drifting to their cheek. Their skin is warm beneath my fingertips, soft in a way I never expected. My thumb brushes against their cheekbone, tracing slow, gentle lines before I even realize what I’m doing.

Then, Y/N lets out a small, tired grunt, shifting slightly under my touch. I yank my hand back as if burned.

Y/N’s POV:

A soft groan escapes my lips as my eyes flutter open, the remnants of sleep still weighing heavy on me. I rub my eyes, letting out a yawn before blinking up at Jesse.

He’s already awake, staring at me with an odd expression—like a kid caught doing something they shouldn’t be. His posture is stiff, shoulders slightly hunched, and there’s something flustered about the way he quickly averts his gaze.

"Good morning." I murmur, stretching my arms above my head.

"Good morning." Jesse replies, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice strangely awkward. "Sleep well?"

I nod, letting out another yawn. "Yeah, after the whole nightmare thing." I shove the blanket off, untangling myself from Jesse’s limbs. The bed was so small we had no choice but to be practically glued together all night. I roll my shoulders, feeling the stiffness from the cramped sleeping position.

Jesse stretches too, standing up with a loud exhale. "We have a long day ahead of us." He mutters, still not looking me in the eye.

"Yeah. Wonder who's gonna try and kill us today." I scoff, rolling my neck until it pops. Winslow lets out a small noise from his spot on the floor, stretching his back before gracefully hopping onto my shoulder. He nuzzles against my face, purring loudly, his tail flicking contently.

Jesse and I step out of the room, making our way down the stairs. The bulky gladiator at the front desk barely acknowledges us, giving nothing more than a nod before returning to whatever dull task he’s assigned to.

Stepping outside, a sharp morning breeze greets us. The sky is painted in streaks of blue and gold, the air crisp, but the tension in my gut remains.

"And now we wait for the others." I mutter, crossing my arms. Jesse nods, remaining silent.

An unknown amount of time later...

Finally, the dorm doors open, and Petra, Lukas, and Ivor step out. Petra spots us immediately, a smirk forming on her lips.

"Well, you two are up early." She teases, wiggling her eyebrows. "Long night?"

I mentally facepalm. "I swear, if you don’t knock it off, I will shove you through that Nether portal and right back into the mines." I grumble, pointing toward the ominous swirl of purple in the distance.

Petra visibly pales, putting her hands up in surrender. Lukas chuckles under his breath, shaking his head.

Before anyone else can comment, a loud, mechanical whir echoes through the village as the announcement system crackles to life. "Attention, competitors! Please make your way to the next event. The gladiators will escort you."

Several armored figures step forward, motioning for the crowd of players to follow. We start moving, but Petra and Lukas are stopped from going any further. A guard blocks their path, keeping them separate from us. Winslow lets out a small hiss, sensing something is wrong, and I instinctively stroke his fur to calm him.

"You guys are staying behind?" Jesse asks, glancing between them and the gladiator standing in their way.

"Guess so." Lukas mutters, glancing at Petra, who doesn’t look any happier about it.

I hesitate before handing Winslow over to Lukas. The last thing I need to do is risk finding out if animals are affected by the respawn system. Winslow lets out a small, displeased noise but ultimately settles into Lukas's arms.

We continue forward, the weight of the situation settling over me like a suffocating fog.

The other teams hype themselves up as we enter the massive arena, the tension palpable. The stands above are packed with spectators, their voices blending into a chaotic roar of excitement.

Then, that voice cuts through the noise like a knife. "Hello and welcome, competitors, to the next day of the Games! And it's gonna be a hot one!" Hadrian’s voice booms over the system, his usual smugness dripping from every word.

"Yes, it is, Hadrian! And how are our teams looking today, Otto?" Mevia’s voice follows, just as twisted with joy.

Otto, always the reluctant one, clears his throat before speaking. "Well, Mevia, purple, green, and yellow are still making a strong showing. But after yesterday’s performance in Spleef, I’m afraid to say the red team has been completely eliminated."

Mevia lets out an exaggerated gasp, feigning shock. "Oh, how tragic! If only they could have fought a little harder!"

I barely register what she says, my eyes locked on the VIP platform where Hadrian lounges, watching us like a predator surveying his prey. His smug expression is enough to make my stomach churn.

Jesse tenses beside me, his hand instinctively curling into a fist.

"Oh, I guess it's back to the mines for them." Mevia giggles, her voice laced with amusement as if sentencing people to a lifetime of labor was some kind of joke.

"And of course, about our lucky newcomers—" Otto begins, only to be sharply cut off.

"Otto, shut up. We don’t need to hear about them." Hadrian interjects dismissively. "Well, for everyone else, don’t forget to be like Tim out there!"

I scoff under my breath, crossing my arms.

"Lucky? Yeah, right." I mutter, my nose scrunching in annoyance.

"Oh my gosh, I’m so sick of these pompous jerks!" Jesse groans, throwing his hands in the air.

"Yes, I can’t say I’m terribly fond of them either." Ivor agrees, shaking his head in distaste.

"Alright, competitors! The next event is almost upon us! Time to head to the starting line!" Hadrian announces over the booming speakers, his voice dripping with excitement. The crowd erupts into cheers, players hyping themselves up as if they weren’t being thrown into another fight for their survival.

"Starting line, huh?" Jesse questions, an eyebrow raised.

"It’s a race." I answer plainly.

Ivor lets out a long-suffering groan. "Great. A run for my life. Just what I was hoping for." His sarcasm is thick, his shoulders slumping in displeasure.

"Bad knees, beardo?" A new voice cuts through the air, laced with mockery.

I tense instantly, recognizing it before I even turn around. Hadrian stands a short distance away, watching us with a sickening smirk, hands clasped behind his back.

"Boom! Surprise locker room visit! How we doin’ everybody?" He struts toward us like he owns the place—because, technically, he does. The other competitors hush, whispering among themselves. This isn’t normal. Hadrian doesn’t come down to personally visit competitors.

Jesse stiffens beside me, his fingers curling suddenly around my waist. His grip is firm, pulling me slightly closer to him. I send him a confused glance, but he merely gestures toward Hadrian with a subtle nod. Oh. Right. The relationship bluff.

Hadrian notices the gesture immediately, his eyes flicking to Jesse’s hand at my waist. His smirk widens, something unreadable flickering behind his gaze.

"And here are the newcomers everyone’s been talking about since their... explosive debut in spleef." Hadrian muses, stepping closer, scrutinizing Jesse like a predator sizing up its prey. His gaze lingers, not on Jesse’s face, but on his hand still resting against my side.

"Tell me, lover boy." Hadrian drawls, tilting his head with feigned curiosity. "What’s on your mind as you approach the next challenge?"

Jesse doesn’t hesitate. "Winning." His voice is cold, his glare sharp enough to cut.

Hadrian chuckles, slow and deliberate. "Ooh, in the zone, huh? Excellent... that’s just excellent." He turns his head slightly, addressing the nearby players with a casual warning. "Hope you manage to hang on to that optimism when the heat’s on out there."

Jesse doesn’t waver. His jaw clenches, but he stands firm.

"I admire your confidence, Jesse, but I must ask... What makes you think you can win where so many others have failed?" Hadrian questions, hands slipping behind his back as he watches Jesse with mild amusement.

Jesse’s fingers tense against my side before he removes his hand entirely, stepping forward with balled fists. "Whatever you’re throwing at us can’t be any worse than what we’ve already survived." He growls.

Hadrian lets out a sharp laugh, feigning amusement. "Oh really? Because it seems like two members of your team have already been eliminated."

Jesse’s fists shake with barely restrained fury. His breathing grows heavier, the muscles in his shoulders tensing. He takes another step forward, his knuckles white.

I react instantly, grabbing his wrist before he can do something he’ll regret.

He glances at me, the rage still burning in his eyes, but I shake my head slowly. Let it go. Please.

Jesse clenches his jaw, muttering something under his breath before stepping back. I release his wrist, and almost instinctively, his hand finds mine, our fingers locking together. His grip is tight, grounding, an unspoken reassurance between us.

Hadrian watches the exchange closely, lips curling into a slow, knowing smirk.

"Oh, that’s cute." He drawls, clasping his hands together mockingly. Such young hearts..." His tone shifts suddenly, growing sharper. His gaze zeroes in on me, and his voice dips lower. "But let me ask you something, Y/N."

I stiffen as his eyes bore into mine.

"You couldn’t save your sister." He continues, voice dripping with venom. "Or your brother. And you still can’t even save yourself." He steps closer, just enough that I can feel the suffocating weight of his presence. "So tell me... what makes you think you can possibly save lover boy over here, huh?"

His words dig into my mind like barbed wire, twisting and pulling, reopening wounds I’ve tried so desperately to seal. The world around me distorts, and suddenly, I’m not in the games anymore. I’m back there. The air is thick with the acrid stench of smoke and burning flesh. Screams rip through the silence, voices I once knew now shrieking in agony. My stomach twists as I see the fire licking at the walls, consuming everything, leaving only ruin in its wake. Blood spatters on the ground, pooling beneath limp bodies. My sister’s hollow eyes stare up at me. My hands are coated in red.

A strangled yelp escapes my throat as I clamp my hands over my ears, pressing down hard, trying to drown out the chaos. But it doesn’t work. The cries grow louder, rattling inside my skull. My back hits something solid, and I slide to the ground, curling in on myself as tightly as possible, shutting my eyes with such force that it hurts.

The sight of blood and fire lingers behind my eyelids, a twisted mockery of safety. No matter how tightly I close them, I can’t escape.

Something grips my forearms, firm but gentle. Hands tug at mine, trying to pry them from my ears. My body reacts on instinct, thrashing wildly, trying to escape. I feel trapped, suffocating—

"Y/N, it's me! It's Jesse!" His voice cuts through the wailing like a beacon of light in the dark. "Whatever you're seeing, it’s not real! Just breathe, alright?"

My frantic breathing stutters. My mind latches onto his voice, something steady in the storm. I blink rapidly, my surroundings flickering between fire and the present. Jesse kneels in front of me, holding onto my arms, his eyes brimming with concern.

Ivor stands nearby, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turn white, murder burning in his glare as he stares Hadrian down.

"Just... breathe." Jesse repeats, his voice soft but firm.

I inhale deeply, the air shaky in my lungs. Slowly, as I exhale, the screams start to fade. The scent of burning wood and charred flesh dissipates. The phantom flames retreat, flickering out one by one until I’m left with nothing but the present. My chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, but the suffocating pressure is gone.

Jesse watches me carefully before standing and pulling me up with him. My legs feel weak, like they might give out at any second. Without thinking, I throw my arms around his neck, clutching onto him like a lifeline.

"Shh... It’s alright..." He murmurs, his arms wrapping securely around me. One of his hands rubs slow, steady circles into my spine. The motion is grounding, his warmth reassuring. My breathing steadies as I focus on the quiet thud of his heartbeat against my ear.

"What the hell did you do to them, Hadrian?!" Ivor’s voice is like a whip crack, sharp with an almost fatherly rage.

"Me?" Hadrian scoffs, feigning innocence. "I didn’t do anything. It’s their fault for having a meltdown out of nowhere." He shrugs nonchalantly. "Anyway, let’s get on with the game, shall we?"

He turns his back without another word, walking off as if he hadn’t just shattered me with a few simple sentences.

Jesse pulls away slightly, his hands resting on my shoulders as he searches my face. "Do you think you still have it in you to make it through this?" His voice is laced with worry.

I nod shakily. My hands clench into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. Hadrian isn’t going to win. Not like this. Jesse exhales in relief before releasing me, though his gaze lingers a second longer than necessary.

"Hey, Jesse!" A voice calls, and we both turn to see Em from the green team approaching. Her strides are confident, though her eyes flick to me with an unreadable glint. "Good luck out there. You’ll need it. Especially with Hadrian’s little hellspawn on your team." Her lips curl in amusement as she sends me a pointed look.

Jesse stiffens beside me. "They have a name, you know." He growls, stepping closer to my side.

"Yeah, yeah." Em rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed.

"Wait, are you wishing me luck?" Jesse asks, suspicion creeping into his voice. "Come on, Em. That sounds suspicious."

Em sighs dramatically, placing her hands on her hips. "Yeah, well, maybe we got off on the wrong foot earlier. I’m sorry. I was just mad about my old teammate you eliminated." Her tone is nonchalant, but her gaze sharpens slightly. "I was thinking about how you handled spleef, and then you made that deal with the old builders, and I thought, 'an enemy of my enemy is my friend,' you know?"

"Em wanting to work together? Hmm, I’m not surprised. We are very charming." Ivor states, puffing out his chest.

I pinch the bridge of my nose with a deep sigh.

"So, yeah." Em continues. "How about we work together on this? I could use an ally, and you could use my help." She flexes her biceps for emphasis, trying to sell herself as an asset.

Jesse narrows his eyes. "How is that gonna work?"

"A bigger group has a better chance of getting past the gladiators. Trust me." Em shrugs, flashing a confident smirk.

I scoff under my breath. I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her, which, judging by her build, is not very far.

"I’ll stick with my team, and you should stick with yours." Jesse answers firmly.

Em scowls at his response, but before she can argue, she shifts her gaze back to me.

"Right, I’ll do that." She pauses, crossing her arms. "Y/N, sorry about the 'little hellspawn' thing. I just call it how I see it, nothing personal." Her voice is almost mocking, daring me to react.

I smile, tilting my head. "No worries. Hey, Nell! You should put a leash on your dog. It might get hurt without one." My tone is sickly sweet as I turn to Nell, who grimaces slightly.

Em’s expression darkens instantly. "Is that a threat?" She steps closer, her towering form meant to be intimidating. "You really shouldn’t threaten a former gladiator."

I hold my ground, leveling my gaze with hers. "I’m not threatening you. I just call it how I see it. Nothing personal." My voice is flat, my expression unbothered.

A muscle twitches in Em’s jaw, her fingers curling slightly like she’s itching for a fight. Before she can get another word out, the announcement system blares overhead.

"Competitors, to the starting line!" Hadrian’s voice rings out over the arena, sharp and commanding. Em throws one last glare in my direction before stomping off, her heavy boots crunching against the packed snow. I watch her go with a smirk, satisfied that I got under her skin.

"I don’t know about this." Ivor mutters, rubbing his hands together nervously as we make our way to the starting line. "Cardio really isn’t my thing."

Jesse snickers. "We can tell."

I stifle a laugh, but Ivor shoots us both a glare. "I'll have you know, I am a warrior, not some common jogger!" He lifts his chin with a dramatic flourish.

"Come on, Ivor." Jesse claps him on the back, nearly making him stumble forward. "I know you can unleash the fury out there! Show them what you’ve got!"

Ivor straightens, puffing out his chest. "You're right, Jesse. I am going to show those old builders what Ivor is made of!" He clenches his fists, a determined glint in his eyes.

We take our places at the assigned starting positions. The course ahead of us is a long, twisting hallway, the walls lined with shifting obstacles and pressure plates just waiting to trigger something nasty. Overhead, a rickety wooden bridge sways slightly from the force of the wind, and further ahead, jagged lava pits bubble ominously. The entire setup screams 'death trap,' and I tighten my stance, already strategizing my moves.

The crowd stirs with excitement, the anticipation buzzing in the air like static electricity. The other competitors kneel into a runner’s stance, their eyes locked on the path ahead, muscles tensed like coiled springs.

Jesse crouches beside me, determination etched into his face. Ivor awkwardly mimics the stance, cracking his knuckles as if that will somehow prepare him for a full-on sprint.

A silence falls over the arena, thick with tension. "Competitors!" Hadrian's voice booms, his tone dripping with amusement. "On your marks..."

The entire room seems to hold its breath. "Get set..."

I brace myself, my heart pounding in my ears. "Go!"

The ground erupts with movement.

Chapter Text

The three of us launch forward, sprinting down the narrow hallway as molten lava drips ominously from the ceiling. The walls glow with the intense heat, casting flickering shadows that dance wildly across the stone. Just as we gain momentum, a sudden wave of lava spills down from above, threatening to cut us off.

Jesse and Ivor react instantly, dropping low and sliding beneath the falling fire. I, on the other hand, don't stop. My instincts scream at me to halt, but a reckless thought overpowers the fear. If I'm fireproof, now's the time to prove it.

I charge straight into the cascading lava. The instant it touches my skin, I brace for unbearable pain, for my flesh to melt away—but instead, an icy chill spreads through me. A strange, almost numbing sensation replaces the expected burning, as if I've just been dunked in freezing water. My entire body emerges from the flow, unscathed, steam rising from my limbs as the molten rock drips harmlessly from my armor.

Jesse and Ivor skid to a stop, turning to gape at me with wide, incredulous eyes.

"What are you waiting for?! Go!" I bark, shaking off the excess lava like it's nothing more than water.

Jesse hesitates only a moment before nodding, then takes off running. Ivor scrambles after him, his breath coming in short bursts. I pick up speed, catching up easily, my feet barely touching the ground.

"You really are... fireproof!" Ivor huffs, weaving between the lava falls that continue to pour down like fiery curtains.

"Yeah, guess so!" I push him forward just in time to avoid a fresh cascade of lava, his startled yelp barely audible over the roaring heat.

The hallway opens into a wider section of the racecourse, and we're no longer alone. The yellow team runs parallel to us, weapons drawn. An arrow whistles through the air, narrowly missing my ear. They fire another, but this time, I'm ready. The moment the arrow reaches Jesse, my fingers snap out and grip the shaft mid-flight. The momentum stings, but I caught it.

"What the hell?!" One of the yellow team members exclaims, clearly rattled.

"Thanks!" Jesse grins, barely missing a step as he draws his sword.

The paths ahead merge, removing the last barrier between the teams. Now it's not just about running—it's a full-blown battle. The moment we collide, weapons swing in rapid, unpredictable arcs. A yellow team member rushes me, his sword glinting under the lava-lit glow. I duck under his wild swing, shifting my weight before stabbing the arrow into his leg. Flames lick up his clothing, spreading fast. He lets out a panicked yell, desperately trying to put them out, but before he can, his body bursts into a puff of white smoke. Inventory drops clatter against the stone floor.

I hesitate for a brief second, guilt pricking at my conscience. He'll respawn, I remind myself. No time to dwell. I push forward, keeping my focus on my teammates.

Ahead, the course dips into a massive pit of rushing water. Without hesitation, we all leap, plunging into the cool, churning currents. The force of the waterfall sweeps us downward, dragging us through a twisting, chaotic tunnel. The roar of the water fills my ears, but beneath it, another noise grows—one that sends a chill down my spine.

Screams. Explosions. Chaos.

I break the surface, climbing out onto solid ground, water streaming from my clothes. The entire battlefield is in disarray. Arrows cut through the air in rapid succession, TNT detonates with deafening booms, and players are thrown around like ragdolls. The ground beneath us trembles with the force of each explosion.

Then I see it.

A flash of green. Em moves through the battlefield with unnatural ease, slipping past the gladiators with no resistance. They don't even acknowledge her, their focus entirely on the other competitors. A pink-haired gladiator locks eyes with me, her lips curling into a wicked grin.

Before I can react, a sudden shout yanks my attention away.

"Ivor, look out!" Jesse's voice is panicked.

Ivor stands his ground, a swirling blue vial clutched tightly in his hand. "Potion of swiftness!" He shouts, about to throw it—only for Slab to appear out of nowhere, knocking it from his grip. The glass shatters uselessly against the ground.

A second later, the pink-haired gladiator swings her axe, burying it deep into Ivor's stomach.

His eyes widen in shock, his mouth parting as if to speak, but only silence follows. A moment later, his body dissipates into a cloud of white smoke, his inventory clattering to the ground.

Slab and the pink-haired gladiator bump fists, a satisfied smirk on both of their faces.

Rage floods my veins. I let out an enraged scream, charging at the pink-haired gladiator with everything I have. She barely has time to react before my sword collides with her armor, the force staggering her. She stumbles back a step, disoriented but not down.

She regains her footing quickly, a dangerous glint in her eyes. Without warning, she swings her axe wildly. I dodge, but she's smarter than she looks. Her boot slams into my stomach, knocking me flat on my back. Air rushes out of my lungs, and before I can recover, she plants her foot firmly on my abdomen, pinning me in place.

I struggle, but she presses down harder, keeping me still.

She raises her axe, a victorious grin splitting her face.

I grip my sword, ready to block—only for it to finally give out. The blade shatters, disappearing in a puff of white smoke. My heart plummets as the realization sinks in. I have nothing left to fight with.

The gladiator lets out a soft giggle, her eyes alight with amusement. She tightens her grip on her axe, lifting it high above her head for the finishing blow.

A furious, inhuman screech erupts from my left. A blur of white, black, and orange crashes into the gladiator, claws raking across her face. She screams, staggering back, her weapon momentarily forgotten. The squirming creature atop her refuses to let go, hissing and clawing at her eyes.

Winslow. He must have followed me.

The gladiator stumbles, swinging her arms wildly to try and grab him, but Winslow is too fast. Every time she manages to seize him, he wriggles free, his claws digging into her exposed skin.

Snapping out of my daze, I take my chance. With all my strength, I kick her square in the gut. She lets out a pained grunt, doubling over as the air is knocked from her lungs.

Winslow lands gracefully beside me, his ears flattened against his head. He lets out a low, warning growl, his tail lashing behind him.

I glare at him, silently reprimanding him for following me, but now isn't the time for a lecture. I push myself up, fists clenched. The battle isn't over yet.

The narrow corridor echoes with the rhythmic pounding of my feet as I push forward, chasing after Jesse. The air is thick with the lingering scent of scorched stone and molten rock, the warmth of the lava below radiating against my skin. Winslow streaks ahead, his tail flicking as he bounds effortlessly over the treacherous terrain.

Jesse skids to a stop ahead of me, eyes fixed on Em and Nell as they scramble up a towering wall of vines. Without hesitation, Jesse lunges forward, fingers grasping the thick greenery as he pulls himself upward. Winslow is already halfway up, his claws hooking into the vines with practiced ease.

I gather my strength, leaping over a bubbling pit of lava before latching onto a sturdy vine. The rough texture digs into my palms as I hoist myself up, muscles burning from exertion. Above me, Em glances down, a scowl crossing her face before she lets out a frustrated groan.

"Whoa, Jesse dude! Nice job catching up!" Nell calls out, her voice light despite the effort it takes to climb.

"You just can't take a hint, can you?!" Em snaps, her frustration bubbling over.

Before I can register what's happening, Em kicks out sharply. The force slams into Nell's side, wrenching her grip from the vines. A startled gasp escapes her lips as she plummets.

Time slows.

My body moves before my mind catches up, instincts taking control. I push off from the vine, angling my descent. With one hand still gripping the wall, I reach out, fingers straining toward Nell as she tumbles toward the bubbling lava below. Her wide eyes lock onto mine in panic.

Got her.

Nell's hand clasps mine in desperation, our combined weight swinging us dangerously over the fiery abyss. The force of it wrenches my shoulder, but I grit my teeth through the pain, gripping the vine tightly to steady us. For a few seconds, we just hang there, breathing heavily.

"Y/N! Are you alright?!" Jesse shouts from above, his voice sharp with concern.

"I'm fine! Just go! I've got Nell!" I call back without hesitation. Jesse nods, turning back to his climb. I shift my focus to Nell, her face still twisted in shock.

"Why did you... save me?" she breathes, still dangling from my grasp.

"If I'm being honest... I didn't think that would work." I admit, a small smirk tugging at my lips.

Nell lets out a breathless chuckle, climbing up until she's level with me. "Either way... thanks. You're not as bad as Em says you are." She mutters, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her expression.

"Come on, we have a race to finish." I remind her, pulling myself up higher.

Nell follows, her determination renewed. We reach the top together, where Winslow sits, his tail flicking impatiently as he watches me expectantly. I roll my eyes at him before offering Nell a hand, helping her onto solid ground.

"Y/N, I uh... I just wanted to say you didn't have to save me. I mean, I killed your friends..." Nell mutters, her voice hesitant.

"You're right, I didn't have to save you." I reply, brushing the dust from my palms. "But you repaid your debt by helping Jesse and me get our friends out of the mines."

Winslow brushes against Nell's leg, purring softly. She glances down at him, her lips parting slightly before she bends down, scratching behind his ears. Winslow meows in delight, leaning into the touch.

"He likes you." I chuckle, watching the interaction.

Nell grins, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since I met her. "Speaking of debts, I guess I owe you another favor." She says, standing back up.

"Nah, just consider it... an act of friendship." I say with a shrug.

Nell's expression shifts into something pure and unfiltered. "Wait... friendship? Are we friends now?!" She exclaims, practically vibrating with excitement.

I smirk. "If you want to be."

Her face lights up like a kid opening their first present. "I would love to be your friend! I won't let you down, I promise!" She beams, practically bouncing on her heels.

"Come on, I'm pretty sure our teammates are waiting for us." I say, motioning for her to follow.

We ascend the final set of stairs. At the top, snow falls gently from the sky, catching the light of the setting sun as it casts long, golden streaks across the arena. Ahead of us, Mevia, Hadrian, and Otto stand, their expressions unreadable. Em and Jesse are already there, but the tension in the air is thick, electrified with something more than just competition.

Hadrian's face is red with fury, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "You were supposed to eliminate Jesse! Our deal's off!"

Jesse jolts slightly, caught off guard. "Deal?!" His voice pitches in surprise.

Em's face drains of color as she stumbles forward. "Wait, no! Please!" Her tone is desperate, pleading, but Hadrian doesn't even acknowledge her.

The old builders turn their backs on her, walking away as if she's nothing.

Em clenches her fists, her entire body trembling. I take a step closer, but she lets out a bitter laugh. "You probably think I'm scum or whatever, but you know what? I don't even care. You have your deal, Jesse. If you win, you and your friends will just leave us anyway. My shot at going home just went up in smoke. So feel free to judge all you want."

"Whatever, you're a liar. Why should I waste my time talking to you?" Jesse retorts coldly.

A sharp smack echoes in the crisp air. Jesse lets out a grunt, recoiling slightly from the blow to the back of his head. He turns to glare at me, but I just cross my arms, unimpressed.

Em groans in frustration and storms off before either of us can say anything.

"Why did you hit me?" Jesse demands, rubbing the spot where my hand made contact.

"She's been here a lot longer than we have, and she wants to go home just as badly as the rest of us. We're no different than her, whether we like it or not. So at least try to understand her situation instead of shaming her for doing what she had to." I say, my voice firm.

Jesse exhales sharply through his nose, rolling his eyes. "Fine. I'll try to be nice."

Turning, I see Ivor trudging toward us, looking thoroughly displeased. "That respawning was the worst thing that's ever happened to me!" He groans dramatically.

Jesse raises an eyebrow. "Ivor, what are you wearing?"

Ivor crosses his arms, clearly annoyed. He's dressed in a white tank top and blue-striped shorts—like pajamas. His usual air of theatrics only makes the outfit funnier.

"It's what I've been wearing under my adventuring clothes. It breathes well." He says, his voice defensive.

Jesse barely holds back a chuckle. "Well, at least you're comfortable."

Before I can add my own remark, the sound of heavy footsteps draws our attention. Slab saunters toward us, his arms crossed, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

Something tells me this conversation is about to get a whole lot worse. The moment Slab points at me, I feel Jesse tense beside me, his fingers curling into fists.

"You. Hadrian wants you." Slab says, his deep voice carrying a smug edge.

"Me?" I arch an eyebrow, already on edge. "Why?"

"You made him real mad." Slab says flatly, turning on his heel. "Now come on."

"No way. They're not going anywhere with you." Jesse snaps, stepping in front of me like a human barricade.

Slab glares down at him, unimpressed. "I don't have all night, now move, squishy. Unless you wanna respawn like your friends."

Jesse doesn't back down, but I place a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's alright. I'll go see what Hadrian wants." I say, stepping out from behind him.

"But—" Jesse starts, but I silence him with a firm look.

"I'll be back soon. Watch Winslow for me." I tell him, glancing at my cat. Winslow lets out a low, grumbling noise, as if he understands what's happening. Jesse doesn't look happy, but he doesn't argue.

Slab leads me through the competitor village, past cold stone buildings and dimly lit pathways. The air is eerily quiet, save for the faint murmur of players still awake, whispering about the upcoming events. Eventually, we reach a spiraling tower, its shadow stretching across the ground under the moonlight.

I follow Slab inside, my boots clicking against the polished floor as we ascend a long, winding staircase. The higher we climb, the heavier the air feels, like I'm walking straight into a trap. At the top, Slab stops before a massive iron door.

"Wait here, and don't touch anything." He orders before turning and descending the stairs.

I roll my eyes and take in my surroundings. The room is spacious but dimly lit, with sea lanterns lining the walls to provide a ghostly blue glow. A large glass window spans one entire side, overlooking the competitor village below like a predator surveying its prey.

A glint of gold catches my attention. My gaze lands on a pristine white armor set outlined in gold, a bright blue gemstone embedded in the chest plate. A poster of Tim hangs just behind it.

So, this is Tim's armor. But if he won, why do the Old Builders have it? I reach out, fingers brushing against the cold metal.

"So..." A voice speaks, breaking the silence.

I whirl around, my pulse spiking. Hadrian stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"I see you found Tim's armor." His voice is calm, almost amused. "I gotta say, Y/N, you've surprised me. Everyone is calling you and that Jesse kid 'Tim reincarnated.' Yes, I've heard the rumors."

He moves toward the armor, eyeing it with something akin to admiration. But there's something hollow about the way he looks at it, as if it's a relic of his own design.

I narrow my eyes. "I see time hasn't changed you a bit. You're still a sick, bitter old man too caught up in your own ego to take your eyes off a mirror and look around you."

Hadrian's expression darkens, his jaw tightening. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" His voice lowers, a warning.

I don't flinch. "I could ask you the same thing, old man."

Something shifts in his gaze, something calculating. He steps closer, a smirk curling his lips. "I know a lot more than you might think." He muses. "See, there's something you should know about the games. No one ever wins unless we want them to."

He lets the words sink in, savoring the moment. I clench my fists. "Honestly, I'm not buying this whole 'Tim' character. Is he even real?" I ask, making air quotes.

Hadrian chuckles, shaking his head. "As sharp as ever, I see. Of course, he's not real. Tim gives them hope, he keeps them playing the games... but no one wins. Ever. Which is why I think it'd be in your best interest to play along."

His smirk widens. "Don't you miss your friends? I bet Jesse misses his treehouse."

My muscles go rigid. Something clicks in my mind.

"I never mentioned a treehouse." I say slowly, my eyes narrowing.

"You didn't have to." Hadrian says smoothly. "The Atlas can see where people are from, so I had Mevia check it out. Turns out you and Jesse are quite famous back home. I was impressed. Had her bring back a few things you might be interested in."

He reaches for a diamond pickaxe, effortlessly chipping away at part of the wall. A hidden compartment is revealed, and my stomach twists at the sight inside. Two obsidian cages. Iron bars serve as windows. And inside them, two familiar faces.

"Axel! Olivia!" My voice comes out in a breathless exclamation as I rush forward.

"Y/N?" Axel's eyes widen in shock.

"Jesse's going to be so happy to see you guys!" I say, relief flooding me.

"Jesse's with you?!" Olivia exclaims, her face lighting up.

"Not physically, but I know where he is. Lukas, Petra, Ivor—everyone's safe. But what are you guys doing here? I thought you two were back in Beacontown." I ask, scanning their exhausted faces.

"This really scary lady showed up and knocked us out, and now we're stuck in these smelly boxes." Axel grunts, gripping the iron bars.

"Don't worry. Jesse and I are going to get you guys out of this." I say firmly.

A slow clap interrupts the moment.

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that." Hadrian strolls up, placing a hand on one of the obsidian cages. "Even if you and Jesse win—which is a mighty big if—they'll be staying here to work in the mines."

My heart pounds.

I know where this is going.

"What do you want from me, Hadrian? What do I have to give you for my friends' freedom? All of them..." My voice is steady, but my hands tremble.

Hadrian's smirk is pure satisfaction. "Now you're speaking my language, kiddo. You have Jesse, I have the rest of your friends. I'll let them all go, but only if I get something in return."

I grind my teeth. "What do you want?"

Hadrian clasps his hands behind his back. "The Redstone Heart."

My blood turns to ice.

"You should have no problem getting Jesse to hand it over. I mean, you have the poor boy wrapped around your finger." He continues, circling me like a predator. "Once you get the heart from lover boy, bring it to me before the next game, and I'll let your friends go. Win or lose."

He leans in slightly, voice lowering. "After all, love makes people do crazy things."

I force myself to keep my breathing steady, my thoughts racing. "I can see your hesitation." Hadrian says, feigning sympathy. "Let me help you make up your mind."

His smirk widens into something cruel. "If you want your friends to leave in one piece, you will bring me the Redstone Heart... and stay behind in their place."

The air leaves my lungs. I barely register Olivia shouting in protest. Axel banging against the iron bars.

Hadrian watches me, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

I already know my answer. "Fine." I say through gritted teeth. "I'll bring you the Redstone Heart... and I'll stay behind so my friends can leave."

Axel and Olivia's protests grow louder, but Hadrian's smirk is all I can focus on.

"Outstanding." He says smoothly, stepping aside. "After you."

My body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as I turn away from my friends, ignoring the way their voices crack with desperation. Hadrian seals the compartment behind me, his presence looming.

"Before you go." He hums, his tone dripping with satisfaction, "there's one more thing I'd like to discuss."

A chill runs down my spine.

Before I can blink, I'm slammed against the cold stone wall, my breath hitching as Hadrian's gnarled fingers tighten around my throat. The pressure is suffocating, his grip unrelenting, his nails digging into my skin like claws. His breath, reeking of something metallic and sour, fans against my face as he leans in closer.

"Heh, you haven't changed a bit." He murmurs, his voice carrying an eerie nostalgia, like he's reliving some twisted memory. His pupils are glassy, distant, like he's not even in the present. "Still a defenseless little brat. I'll honor our deal, but first... I haven't gotten to do this in so long."

The words barely register before a sharp, crushing pain explodes in my ribs. A strangled grunt forces its way from my throat as the hilt of a diamond sword is driven into my side, the impact rattling through my bones. He yanks it back and slams it into me again, harder this time, a sickening crack echoing through the room. My body jerks from the force, agony spiking through my ribs like molten iron.

I choke on my breath, struggling against his grip, but his hold is ironclad. Kicking, clawing—none of it does anything. I can barely get enough air into my lungs to fight back. My entire torso screams in protest as the sword handle meets my ribs a third time, a horrifying snap confirming what I already know.

Something's broken.

I bite my tongue hard enough to taste blood, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out. A low, guttural growl vibrates in my chest instead, the only sound I allow to escape.

Hadrian scoffs, then releases me. My body collapses like a marionette with cut strings, hitting the stone floor with a dull, sickening thud. The cold seeps into my skin, amplifying the throbbing in my ribs, the pain radiating with every shallow breath I manage to take.

He looms over me, silhouetted against the dim glow of the sea lanterns, his shadow stretching over my body like a vulture circling prey. His smirk is twisted, his sick delight painted across his smug face.

Before I can process what's happening, white-hot agony tears through my stomach.

The sharp end of his sword pierces through my flesh, slicing deep, the jagged steel cutting through muscle and sinew like butter. The pain is unbearable, burning, searing—I feel everything. A warm, sticky sensation spills down my stomach, pooling beneath me in a slow, oozing river.

Then, with a cruel twist of the blade, Hadrian rips it out.

My body flinches involuntarily, a fresh wave of searing pain washing over me. I clutch my wound, fingers pressing into the warmth of my own blood as I suck in a shaky breath through clenched teeth.

"Go ahead, scream." Hadrian sneers, crouching to my level. His fingers cup my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his. His golden-rimmed glasses catch the dim light, making his eyes gleam like a predator toying with its kill. "It'll just be more fun for me."

I hold his gaze, refusing to let my pain show. My voice comes out in a raw, venom-laced whisper. "Go to hell."

Before he can react, I snap forward and sink my teeth into his hand, clamping down with everything I have left. His flesh gives beneath my teeth, the bitter taste of iron filling my mouth.

Hadrian yells, yanking his hand back. He stumbles slightly, clutching the wound, his face twisting in fury. "You little brat!" He snarls, his free hand lashing out.

Pain explodes across my jaw as his fist connects with my face. My skull slams against the stone behind me, the force rattling my already battered body.

Before I can recover, another blow strikes me, then another. His knuckles crack against my cheekbone, my temple, my nose. Again and again. I lose count. The world blurs, spinning violently. My ears ring, my head lolls. My vision flickers, shifting between light and darkness with each vicious strike. Every nerve in my body screams, but my voice refuses to rise.

Finally, Hadrian exhales sharply and straightens, adjusting his suit like he hadn't just beaten me to the edge of unconsciousness. His breath is ragged, but his expression is pleased. He calls for someone, his voice distant, muffled—like I'm underwater.

A bulky figure steps into the room, his silhouette towering in the doorway. His voice rumbles through the air, but I can't understand a word. It's all garbled noise, fading in and out like a broken radio.

My eyelids grow heavier.

Something solid hooks under my knees and shoulders, lifting me off the ground. I barely register the motion, my limbs limp, useless. The person holding me speaks again. Slab's baritone voice echoes in my ears.

I try to lift my head, try to see who it is. My body won't respond. The last thing I see is Hadrian standing over me, a satisfied smirk carved into his face.

Then, everything fades to black.

Chapter Text

A dull, aching pain throbs in my skull as I slowly drift back into consciousness. My eyelids feel heavy, but I manage to pry them open, wincing as a faint groan escapes my lips. The world around me is hazy, a swirl of colors and indistinct shapes shifting in and out of focus. I push myself up with a sluggish motion, pressing a hand to my temple, the disorientation settling in like a thick fog.

The familiarity of my surroundings begins to take shape, but something feels... off. My vision sharpens, and I recognize the towering stone pillars, the intricate banners, the grand, multi-colored beacon pulsing gently at the heart of the chamber. The Order Hall?

How... How did I get here?

Everything appears the same at first glance, but an unnatural stillness lingers in the air, thick and suffocating. A single, foreign presence disrupts the otherwise familiar space. A lone figure hovers near the beacon, their back turned to me, their posture eerily poised. Even from this distance, something is deeply unsettling about them.

A shiver runs down my spine as I take in the unnatural form before me. Massive, glossy wings extend from their back, the dark feathers shimmering under the beacon’s glow like polished obsidian. Two spiraling black horns curve upward from their head, casting elongated shadows across the chamber’s floor. The figure moves with an unsettling grace, clawed fingers tracing the edges of the beacon, the soft scrape of nails against its surface sending a ripple of unease through me. A low, melodic hum escapes from them—quiet, almost hypnotic.

I shift my weight carefully, attempting to rise without drawing attention, but the moment my foot presses down, a treacherous floorboard betrays me with a sharp creak.

The humming ceases.

The figure stiffens. Then, with excruciating slowness, they turn. My breath catches in my throat as my mind struggles to comprehend what I’m seeing. It has my face.

The resemblance is uncanny—too precise to be a mere coincidence. The same features, the same build, down to the minute details of my expression. But the eyes... the eyes are wrong. Where mine should be, there is only an abyssal blackness, stark white pupils gleaming like twin stars in an endless void. The sight sends a wave of unease crawling over my skin.

A slow, eerie smile stretches across their lips. "Ah, you're awake."

The voice that greets me is my own. The tone, the inflection—it’s as if I’m speaking to a distorted reflection of myself. My stomach churns.

"Who—What... the hell are you?" I rasp, taking an instinctive step back. My hands clench at my sides, but I’m defenseless—no weapon, no way to fight back if this thing decides to attack.

The creature chuckles, tilting their head in an almost mocking fashion. "What am I? I’m you... Well, the better version of you."

The response does nothing to quell my unease. If anything, it raises more questions than it answers. My mind races, trying to process the situation, but nothing makes sense.

"What the fuck is going on?" My voice comes out harsher than intended, edged with suspicion. My eyes flick around the chamber, searching for some kind of explanation, some kind of escape.

The creature lets out a sigh, rolling their eyes as if my confusion is somehow frustrating to them. "Great, you're frightened. I can assure you, no harm will come to you in my presence."

"Yeah, that doesn’t exactly make me feel any better." I mutter, my body coiled with tension.

"You really don’t know what’s happening, do you?" The creature’s expression shifts to one of mild irritation, as though they expected me to have all the answers already.

I shake my head slowly.

Another sigh. "Alright then. Well, you're not dead, if that’s what you’re wondering. But you’re incredibly close. You’re in between life and death. Normally, it’s much less... pleasant." They gesture vaguely to our surroundings. "But I thought you’d be more comfortable somewhere familiar."

A cold knot of uncertainty tightens in my chest. "Okay, slow down. Can I at least get your name first?" My fingers press against my temple, the dull ache in my head intensifying.

"My name?" They chuckle, amusement flickering in those unnatural eyes. "Ha! My name cannot be pronounced in your tongue... You may call me Onyx."

Onyx. A name to put to the face—the face that looks exactly like mine.

"Alright... Onyx." I murmur warily. "You said you’re a better version of me. What do you mean?"

They smirk, pacing idly around the beacon, wings shifting with each step. "Let me simplify it for you. I am like your guardian angel, but much less high and righteous. I’ve watched over you since you were nothing but a helpless infant."

A creeping unease settles over me. "If you've known me that long, why haven't I seen you before?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"Because you had to be literally on the verge of death for me to directly contact you." Onyx replies with a casual shrug. "It’s just the rules."

I let out a slow breath, trying to ground myself. "Okay... Is this just all in my head, or are you real?"

Onyx tilts their head, expression unreadable. "I'm as real as you, flesh and all. But you’re the only one who can see or hear me."

A shiver crawls down my spine. They even move like me—the same subtle tilts of the head, the same thoughtful pauses before speaking. It’s uncanny. And deeply unsettling.

"Alright." I say cautiously, "how can I trust you? How do I know I’m not just losing my mind?"

Onyx lets out an irritated groan. "Whether you trust me or not, I was there when you took your first steps. When you first learned how to wipe your own ass. When your mother abandoned you."

I stiffen. The words hit me like a slap. "Wait... my mother? She didn’t abandon me. She was killed by Hadrian, my father. I saw it with my own eyes."

Onyx’s expression doesn’t shift. "Oh, right. You were a newborn when it happened. I can’t possibly expect you to remember."

The casual way they brush off my words sets my nerves alight. "What the hell are you talking about?" My voice is sharp now, frustration bubbling to the surface.

Onyx exhales in exasperation. "You’re smart, figure it out. Listen, we don’t have much time. I can heal you, but you cannot tell anyone what was discussed here." They step closer, extending a clawed hand.

Instinct tells me to pull away, but my body feels weighed down, my limbs sluggish and unresponsive.

"I’ll talk to you later." Onyx murmurs.

Their palm presses against my forehead. A wave of drowsiness crashes over me. My body grows heavier, my vision swimming, darkness creeping at the edges.

"Sleep..." Onyx whispers.

And just like that, the world fades to black.

An unknown amount of time later...

"This is a message from Hadrian himself!" The words ring out, sharp and merciless, just as my body slams into the frozen ground with a sickening thud. Pain explodes through my torso, the breath knocked from my lungs. My eyes snap open, met instantly by a harsh, biting wind cutting across my face. A dull gray sky looms overhead, heavy with thick, unmoving clouds, casting the world in a dreary half-light. Snow drifts lazily from above, the white flakes stark against the dark figures standing over me.

Murmurs ripple through the gathered crowd—whispers of unease, fear, and hushed concern spreading like wildfire. My ears ring as I force my gaze upward, vision blurring momentarily from the impact.

"Let this be a lesson to anyone who defies the Old Builders!" Slab’s voice bellows, his hulking frame towering over me. His eyes are filled with smug satisfaction, his fists clenched at his sides as if daring anyone to challenge him. The crowd watches in tense silence, their faces pale and horrified, but no one dares step forward.

Slab lingers for only a moment more before turning on his heel, his boots crunching against the frost-covered ground as he storms off, disappearing into the towering structures of the games.

"Y/N!" The sound of hurried footsteps follows the urgent call, approaching fast. The weight of the voices is unmistakable, and within seconds, four figures gather around me—Jesse, Ivor, Lukas, and Petra. Winslow trails close behind, his usual aloofness replaced by a wary glance in my direction.

I press my palms against the icy surface beneath me, bracing myself as I attempt to push up. The instant pressure against my stomach sends a searing jolt of pain through my body. My vision sparks with bright, dancing spots, my stomach twisting violently. A sharp hiss escapes me before I can swallow it down, my teeth sinking into the inside of my cheek in a desperate attempt to stifle the groan threatening to spill out.

"Are you alright?!" Jesse’s voice is tight with worry, his brows creased as he kneels beside me.

"Never better." I mutter, forcing a strained smile despite the pain clawing at my insides. Jesse doesn’t look convinced.

"How do you feel?" Ivor asks, watching me with his usual sharp, calculating gaze.

"Sore, but I’ll live.." I grunt, rolling my eyes in an attempt to play it off. The truth is, every muscle in my body screams in protest, but admitting that out loud isn’t an option.

"How did this happen?" Lukas asks, his tone thick with unease.

"Hadrian, that’s how. He must’ve done something." Petra growls, fists clenching at her sides, her anger simmering just beneath the surface.

I grit my teeth, determination overriding caution as I push myself upright once more. The white-hot agony is instant, flaring through my core like a burning coal pressed against my skin. My breath shudders, and my hands instinctively fly to my stomach, fingers brushing against something warm and wet.

I look down. Blood. A deep crimson stain coats my palm, thick and fresh. Before I can fully process it, a pair of arms wrap around me, pulling me into a tight embrace.

"Lukas... squeezing too tight." I gasp, the pressure worsening the stabbing pain in my ribs.

"I’m glad you’re okay!" Lukas chokes out, his voice laced with pure relief rather than restraint.

I grimace, shifting slightly. "Um... Lukas? You might not wanna get blood on your clothes." I say, tilting my head toward his shirt.

Lukas pulls back just enough to look, and his expression instantly shifts. "Ohhh, that’s a lot of blood..." His voice trails off before his resolve hardens. "Here, let me help you." Without hesitation, he tears the sleeve from his jacket, already moving to press it against my wound.

"Wait... look!" Petra suddenly exclaims, eyes locked onto my stomach.

Confused, I follow her gaze. What...?

The wound... it’s healing.

I watch in stunned silence as the torn flesh knits itself back together, muscle and skin slowly mending as if time itself were reversing. The flow of blood ceases, the deep gash closing entirely within seconds.

As if it was never there at all. Must be Onyx’s handiwork.

"What... just happened?" Lukas breathes, his wide eyes flicking between me and my now-healed wound.

"I... don’t know." I answer, my voice unsteady. It’s not a lie—technically.

Silence settles between us, thick with shock and unspoken questions.

Ivor clears his throat. "Well, we should probably address the elephant in the room. What happened up there?!" He gestures toward Hadrian’s tower, his tone demanding an explanation.

"Nothing. Don’t worry about it." I shrug, shifting to push myself up.

Big mistake.

The moment I move, white-hot agony flares through my body once more. My muscles spasm in protest, and my vision swims. Jesse reacts instantly, gripping my shoulders firmly and keeping me down. He shakes his head, his expression leaving no room for argument.

"It’s obviously not 'nothing.' Slab brought you out of that tower unconscious and nearly bleeding to death. Not to mention the bruises and marks you didn’t have before going in there." Lukas points out, gesturing toward my face and stomach. His frustration is evident, but beneath it, I can see the raw concern in his eyes.

"Fine, I fell. Happy?" I snap, shoving Jesse’s hands off me.

The pain is excruciating, but I force myself to my feet, ignoring the way my legs tremble beneath me. A wave of nausea crashes over me, and my balance falters. The familiar spots cloud my vision again, but I refuse to let them win.

"You fell? You 'fell'?!" Petra’s voice rises, incredulous. "That’s bullshit and you know it."

"Don’t believe me? Fine, but it’s the truth." I argue, folding my arms across my chest despite the soreness in my limbs.

Petra exhales sharply, frustration evident, while Lukas simply lets out a sigh, clearly exhausted from the conversation.

Jesse, however, keeps his gaze locked on me, unwavering. "Y/N, I know how stubborn you are, so I won’t ask what happened. But will you at least tell us what Hadrian wanted?" His voice is softer now, but the concern remains, lingering in his eyes like an unshakable weight.

I hesitate. "Uh... about that, I have news." My hand drifts to the back of my neck.

"I don’t like the sound of that." Petra mutters, arms crossing tightly.

"Good news?" Lukas asks, though the hope in his voice is fragile.

"Well, depends on how you take it." I reply with a half-hearted shrug.

"Spit it out then!" Ivor snaps, growing impatient.

I exhale, bracing myself for their reactions. "Hadrian used the Atlas to find out where we’re from... and abducted Axel and Olivia. He has them at the top of his palace. He said that even if we win, they'll have to stay behind and work in the mines."

Silence. Thick, heavy silence, where words fail and emotions fester. Then, one by one, their expressions shift—shock, anger, and, most of all, determination.

"He offered me a deal... all of you can leave, Axel and Olivia included, whether we win or lose." I force a smile, but even I can hear how hollow my voice sounds. The weight of the words lingers in the air like a fog, pressing down on all of us.

Jesse’s gaze sharpens, eyes locked onto mine with unwavering intensity. "What did he want in exchange?" His tone is steady, but I can hear the undercurrent of unease beneath it.

I shrug, feigning nonchalance, though my chest tightens. "He wanted me to stay behind so you can all leave."

The reaction is immediate. A chorus of protests erupts around me, voices overlapping in a frantic rush of disbelief and outrage. Their faces twist with emotion—anger, horror, devastation. I brace myself, but it does little to soften the impact of their reactions.

"You didn’t take the deal, did you?" Jesse’s voice wavers, a feeble attempt at a reassuring smile crossing his lips.

I don’t answer. The silence is suffocating.

"Y/N, you didn’t take it... right?" Jesse repeats, the fragile hope in his voice cracking like thin glass. I lower my gaze to the ground, my jaw tightening, my lips pressing together. Still, I say nothing.

"Y/N..." Jesse murmurs, stepping closer. His hand cups my cheek, warm against my cold skin, his fingers trembling slightly. He tilts my face up to meet his gaze, and my chest constricts at the sheer desperation in his eyes.

"Tell me you didn’t take the deal... please." His voice is barely above a whisper now, raw with emotion.

"If I told you that, I’d be lying." The words fall from my lips like lead, heavy and unforgiving. I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure, but my throat burns with unshed tears.

A soft, mournful meow breaks the silence. Winslow sits nearby, his ears pinned back, his green eyes filled with quiet sorrow.

Jesse's face crumples. He staggers back slightly, as if the words physically hit him, his expression nothing but raw, unfiltered pain. "No, no, no... Why would you do that?! Do you have any idea what Hadrian will do to you?!" His hands grip my shoulders firmly, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears, his breaths coming in uneven gasps.

Lukas stands frozen in place, his face pale with shock. His lips part slightly, but no words come out. Petra clamps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with horror. She shakes her head slightly, as if willing the reality of the situation to change. Ivor, normally the most composed of us, doesn’t even look at me. His hand trembles as he wipes at his eyes, silent, yet his grief is plain as day.

"Please... just tell me you're joking..." Jesse pleads, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.

I remain silent.

Jesse’s breath shudders before he pulls me into a crushing embrace. His arms tighten around me, and I feel the faint tremors in his frame as hot tears spill freely onto my shoulder. His grip isn’t just desperate—it’s the kind of hold someone gives when they’re terrified of losing something forever.

"Why would you do that... you stupid, stupid..." His words falter, breaking into shallow, shaky breaths.

A sharp pang of guilt lances through me, twisting deep inside my chest. I want to say something, anything to ease the pain I’m causing, but there’s nothing I can say that won’t make this worse.

I close my eyes, taking a slow breath before forcing the next words out. "Jesse, I need the Redstone Heart."

He stiffens slightly at my request, his arms still wrapped around me. "What?" He pulls back just enough to look at me, confusion flickering through the sorrow clouding his eyes.

"If there’s one thing I won’t let Hadrian take, it’s the Redstone Heart." I say, my voice hoarse. "Jesse, he knows you have it. That makes you a target. He’s going to come after you. Give it to me—I’ll make sure it never gets into his hands."

Every word burns as it leaves my mouth, each syllable laced with exhaustion, my body, mind, and soul aching under the weight of everything I’ve just done.

Jesse studies me for a long moment, his expression searching. Then, finally, he exhales a heavy sigh, reaching into his inventory. The pulsing block materializes in his hands, its deep crimson glow casting shifting patterns of light across our faces.

"That’s... a good idea." Jesse mutters, his voice low, resigned. He places the Heart in my hands. "I trust you. Here."

The moment he says it, I flinch.

"I trust you."

The words cut deeper than any blade. I swallow against the guilt rising in my throat, my fingers curling around the pulsating artifact.

No, Jesse. You shouldn’t.

I stare down at the Redstone Heart as it hums softly against my fingertips, its energy thrumming in sync with my own heartbeat. Thoughts whirl chaotically in my mind, a storm of doubt, regret, and the crushing weight of my betrayal.

Is this worth it?

Is any of this worth betraying the man who believed in me?

Chapter Text

"You realize how ridiculous you sound, right? There's no way Hadrian will actually send your friends home. He’ll wait until you lose and send you all to the mines anyway." Em chimes in, her voice edged with skepticism. Her scowl deepens as she crosses her arms, watching us with barely concealed disdain.

A low hiss sounds from behind me. Winslow flattens his ears, crouching low, his tail twitching in agitation as he glares at Em.

"That’s true." Another voice cuts in smoothly. "He’ll send you all to the mines while claiming that was the original deal." Harper steps into view as if she had been lingering just out of sight the whole time. Her sudden appearance makes my stomach twist—how long had she been listening?

Her eyes meet mine, sharp and knowing. Does she know about the unspoken terms of my deal with Hadrian?

"So, who's supposed to help us then? Hadrian and Mevia are both clearly the worst." Petra huffs, shifting her weight onto one foot as she folds her arms tightly across her chest.

"What about the third guy?" Jesse asks, his tone laced with hope.

"Otto? How can he help?" Harper raises an eyebrow, curious.

Jesse’s brows furrow in thought. "It seems like he might not like Hadrian that much. Is that true?"

Harper chuckles, shaking her head. "Good eye. Hadrian thinks Otto is a boring stick in the mud. Otto thinks Hadrian is a megalomaniac. Not a lot of love lost there. If you two win, I know Otto would make sure you got the Atlas."

A slow, deep sigh escapes me. "Harper, you're forgetting that Hadrian has our friends locked up in an obsidian prison. We can win the Atlas, but we’ll need you to get them out." I fix her with a firm stare, hoping for a straight answer.

Harper doesn’t hesitate. "I can handle it." She states, pulling a diamond pickaxe from her inventory with a confident smirk.

Relief washes over me. "Good. There are two of them. They’re in Hadrian’s office." I nod, a small grin tugging at the corners of my lips.

"Wait, wait, wait. You really think you can free everyone in this place and win the games?" Em scoffs, her skepticism as sharp as ever. She tilts her head, watching us like we’re fools about to walk off a cliff.

"Yeah." Jesse interjects, stepping closer and placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "If Y/N thinks we can, then I think we can too."

Em exhales loudly, rolling her eyes. "Good luck with that last part. Do you really think you can just beat all the other teams by yourselves?"

Around us, the murmuring starts—soft at first, but steadily growing. Players are whispering amongst themselves, glancing our way with uncertainty and curiosity.

"Em, you are seriously damaging my flow by being such a downer. Get on our side or get out of here." Jesse mutters in annoyance, rubbing his temples.

Em smirks. "I’m just being realistic. If you two really think you can get all the teams not to fight each other, then go right ahead."

More whispers. More eyes on us.

"Speaking of... I think we have an audience." I mutter, nodding toward the ever-growing crowd surrounding us.

Jesse’s grip on my hand tightens slightly, his fingers entwining with mine. "I think that's your cue to do your thing." Petra whispers, her gaze flicking between Jesse and me, a pointed look on her face.

Jesse nods and steps forward, raising our joined hands. His voice rings out strong and confident. "Tomorrow, if we all work together... we can all win together!"

A murmur runs through the gathered players, their eyes darting between each other. Some hesitate, skeptical. Others lean in, intrigued.

"But you two aren’t on my team! My jumpsuit is yellow, see?" A player from the yellow team speaks up, frowning.

Jesse shakes his head. "That’s just what the Old Builders want you to think! Hadrian keeps twisting and changing the rules! I say... it’s our time to change the rules on them!"

A few nods ripple through the crowd, but the tension is still thick.

"But you saw what happened to Y/N! Anyone who defies the Old Builders is dead meat!" Another player shouts, pointing directly at me.

I inhale sharply, steadying myself. "That’s true. And I’m his child! Imagine what he’ll do to all of you!"

A collective shudder runs through the crowd, faces paling. The weight of my words settles over them like a dark cloud.

"But imagine what he’ll do if you all stay." I continue, my voice firm. "He’s just gonna keep breaking your bones until there’s nothing left to break! If we all stand together, we have a chance at ending this vicious cycle!"

More whispers. More uncertainty.

"What’s the point?" Em huffs, folding her arms. "Hadrian will still have all the power."

Jesse exhales sharply, rubbing his temples. "The point is... just shut up and let me talk." He steps up onto a higher platform, pulling me up with him.

Em sighs, rolling her eyes again. "Fine. I’ll hear you out. But nobody beats Hadrian at his own game. No one."

"Hey! Tim did!" A player from the yellow team argues.

I scoff, shaking my head.

"To be honest, Tim isn’t real." I state bluntly. "The Old Builders made him up so you would all keep playing the games! Tim was nothing but a manipulation tactic."

Gasps ripple through the crowd, shock dawning on their faces.

"So wait... Tim is made up?" Em asks, and for the first time, her tone carries something other than cynicism.

"Yeah." I confirm. "Hadrian admitted it himself."

Her reaction surprises me. A former gladiator, and she never knew?

"Forget Tim! Real or not, the important thing is what we are all capable of doing tomorrow." Jesse cuts in, his voice brimming with conviction. "And what we’re gonna do is beat the Old Builders at their game!"

"But the Old Builders already control everything else." Em argues, frustration leaking into her voice. "Of course, they control the games! Why should I even try anymore?"

Jesse meets her glare head-on. "We beat the Old Builders, and you won’t have to. But it can only be done if all of us work together."

A murmur of agreement spreads through the crowd.

"But what about the gladiators?" Nell speaks up, concerned. "Beating the Old Builders sounds cool and all, but the gladiators aren’t just gonna let us win."

I shrug. "The Old Builders control the gladiators. We beat the Old Builders... the gladiators will back off. And if they don’t? It’ll be their funeral."

Some players exchange uneasy glances. Others nod in agreement.

"Those Old Builders think they’re the greatest people, but we’ll show them that’s not true!" Jesse declares. "Right now, Hadrian is up in that tower, plotting how he’s gonna beat us all. But what he doesn’t know is that his plans are doomed from the start! Because they are going down!"

Scattered cheers break out among the players. Some clap, their energy shifting. Others walk away with their heads in their hands, still unsure.

"Think we convinced enough of them?" Jesse whispers, casting me a sideways glance.

I exhale slowly, watching as the crowd begins to disperse. "I don’t know." I admit, releasing his hand. "Hopefully, it’s enough to beat Hadrian."

"Look, it was a nice speech. But strength doesn’t come from speeches." Em mutters, striding toward us with a scowl. The flickering torchlight casts sharp shadows across her face, emphasizing the frustration etched into her features. 

"I'm done trying to help you. I’ve got all these other people to worry about." Jesse sighs, only for me to smack him upside the head—again.

"Ow! Will you stop hitting me?!" Jesse groans, rubbing the sore spot, shooting me an exasperated glare.

"I’ll stop hitting you when you stop being a dick to her. We’ve been over this." I scoff, folding my arms. "She’s been here longer. We don’t know what Hadrian put her through."

Jesse rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, inhaling sharply.

"Man, some crowd. Think you got through to them?" Lukas asks, attempting to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Jesse exhales, shoulders sagging. "We’re doomed. I don’t know how we’re gonna pull this off."

I gasp dramatically, throwing my hands up. "Are you being negative for once?! Oh my, we must be doomed if you’re not being optimistic!" My voice drips with sarcasm as I clutch my chest theatrically.

Jesse chuckles, shaking his head. 

I grin. "There we go. That’s better."

Lukas ruins the moment by making exaggerated retching noises.

"Well, I guess we’ll find out for sure in the morning." Ivor sighs, stretching his arms before nudging us toward the dorms.

The night air feels heavy as we step inside, the chill clinging to my skin as the doors creak shut behind us. The warmth of the building should be comforting, but it only makes my chest feel tighter. The weight of everything that’s happened, everything that’s about to happen, settles in my gut like a lead block.

Jesse and I reach our shared room once again, and I hesitate for a fraction of a second before stepping inside. My thoughts are a tangled mess, swirling relentlessly. If I betray Jesse, I betray myself. But if I betray Hadrian, I betray my friends.

The conflicting emotions coil tighter inside me, suffocating. I let out a frustrated groan, rubbing my face with both hands.

Jesse notices immediately. "Hey, you alright?" His voice is softer now, laced with concern as he climbs into the small bed.

"Yeah, just thinking." I mutter, shaking my head before slipping beneath the blanket. The warmth should be soothing, but it does nothing to quiet my thoughts.

"About what?" Jesse asks, his curiosity piqued.

"None of your business, that’s what." My voice comes out a little sharper than intended, and I roll onto my side, turning my back to him. "Go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow."

Jesse chuckles, but he doesn’t push. The sound of shifting blankets fills the silence, and then, with a soft click, the lights in our room go out.

An unknown amount of time passes.

It’s late—far past midnight. Jesse’s breathing is slow and steady, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest indicating he’s deep in sleep. The only other sound is the distant howl of wind against the stone walls outside. The dim glow from the torches in the hallway barely seeps through the cracks under the door, casting long shadows that stretch across the floor.

And yet, I can’t sleep.

I stare at the ceiling, my thoughts looping over and over like a broken record. Hadrian’s deal. The Redstone Heart.

I have to give it to him before the next game. That means now. If I don’t... my friends will never be free.

My body protests as I sit up slowly, each movement feeling heavier than the last. My limbs are screaming at me to stay put, to forget about it—to just go back to sleep. But I know I can’t.

Heart pounding, I push the blanket aside and carefully swing my legs over the edge of the bed. The cold stone floor sends a sharp chill through my feet, grounding me for a brief second before I force myself to move.

I take slow, careful steps toward the door, every sound amplified in the silence of the night. My breath is shallow, my pulse hammering against my ribs as my fingers hover inches above the cold metal of the doorknob.

Almost there.

I curl my fingers around it just as the bed creaks behind me. I freeze.

"Y/N?" Jesse’s voice is groggy, thick with sleep. The rustling of blankets follows as he shifts, probably rubbing his eyes. "Where are you going?"

Shit.

I force myself to stay calm, even as my heart pounds harder. "I'm... getting some fresh air. I’ll be back in a bit." I reply, trying to keep my voice steady as I grip the doorknob tighter.

Silence. Too long of a silence.

Jesse exhales, his voice more alert now. "Y/N... if you wanted fresh air, you would go to the balcony." His tone shifts, suspicion creeping in. "I'll ask you again—where are you going?"

I don’t answer. I can't.

Instead, I twist the doorknob, yanking it open an inch—just enough to slip through. Before I can take another step, the door slams shut.

Something solid presses against my back. Warm. Firm. Trapping me in place. Jesse’s palm, flat against the wood.

"Not again." His voice is low, rough, a quiet growl from just behind me. "You don’t get to run away again."

A shiver runs down my spine. I turn slowly, my back pressing fully against the scratchy wood of the oak door. The dim light barely illuminates Jesse’s face, but I can see the outline of his expression—his jaw clenched, his shoulders squared.

His other hand lands on my shoulder, firm but not rough, keeping me in place. "Where. Are. You. Going?"

Something about his tone is different. Not just suspicion, not just concern. There’s something else. Something... possessive.

I can’t see his face clearly in the dark, but I feel him. His presence, his warmth, the way his breath ghosts over my skin from how close he is.

Tears burn at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over. I stare up at him, my heart hammering in my chest.

Trapped.

"I'm sorry..." I mutter, unable to keep it in.

"What?" Jesse asks, his voice laced with confusion. His eyes flick between mine, searching for an explanation.

But I can’t hold his gaze.

A sob tears its way from my throat, and suddenly, the dam breaks. "I’m so sorry!" The words spill out, raw and desperate, as hot tears race down my cheeks, burning against my skin.

Jesse’s expression shifts from confusion to alarm. "Whoa, take it easy! I didn’t think you’d have that reaction! I’m sorry if I startled you or—" He quickly lifts his hands from the door, stepping back to give me space, his voice frantic with concern.

But before I can think—before I can stop myself—my body moves on instinct. My arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close. I bury my face in his shoulder, my breath hitching against the fabric of his shirt as I cling to him.

"I'm sorry." The words leave me in a whisper, then again, and again, trembling with every breath.

Jesse hesitates only for a moment before his arms circle around me, firm and steady. His warmth seeps into me, grounding me, but the guilt still gnaws at my insides.

"Why are you sorry? You have nothing to apologize for." His voice is gentle, and reassuring, but it only makes the ache in my chest worse.

"But I do..." My fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt. "I was gonna betray you..."

Jesse stiffens in my arms.

"Wait... what?" His voice drops, the warmth in it fading as he pulls back just enough to look at me.

I force myself to meet his gaze, though my stomach twists painfully. "I didn’t tell you the full terms of the deal I made with Hadrian..." My voice is hoarse, every word feeling like a confession I don’t want to make. "Not only do I have to stay behind... I have to give him the Redstone Heart too."

Jesse’s breath catches. His features shift—hurt, disbelief, confusion—flashing across his face like cracks forming in stone.

"I lied to you." I whisper, my throat tight, my fingers trembling as I reach into my inventory. The Redstone Heart appears in my palms, its deep crimson glow casting long shadows across our faces. I hold it out between us, my hands unsteady. "And I'm so sorry. Here. Take it back."

For a long moment, Jesse doesn’t move.

The light of the Redstone Heart flickers in his eyes, his expression unreadable. Then, he exhales slowly, his shoulders rising and falling with the weight of the moment.

Instead of taking it, his hands close over mine, gently curling my fingers around the pulsating block. I blink up at him, confused.

"Keep it." He murmurs softly. "Even though you wanted it for a bad reason, you made a good point. Hadrian knows I have it, that makes me a target. This is the best way to keep it out of his hands."

His fingers tighten around mine, his warmth steady and unwavering.

I open my mouth to protest. "But I was gonna—"

"I know." Jesse cuts me off, his voice firm but kind. "But you told me the truth before anything bad happened. So stop worrying. We’re gonna win tomorrow. And no one will have to stay behind. I promise."

His hand lifts, his thumb brushing away the damp streaks on my cheek with gentle care. The touch sends a new warmth spreading through me, one that has nothing to do with shame or guilt.

Silence settles between us.

We just... hold each other.

I don’t realize how close he is until he moves again—leaning in, his presence surrounding me. My breath catches in my throat, and I stay perfectly still. Then, his lips press softly against my forehead.

A different kind of warmth blooms in my chest, one that catches me off guard. My cheeks flush as Jesse pulls away, grinning at me as if nothing just happened.

"Come on, we have some Old Builder ass to kick tomorrow." He says with a shrug before turning back toward the bed.

I stand frozen for a moment, pulse still unsteady, before finally tucking the Redstone Heart back into my inventory. My gaze drifts to Winslow, curled up in the same corner as last night, his tail flicking idly.

I exhale, long and deep, steeling my nerves. With one last glance at Jesse, I slip beneath the covers, letting the exhaustion finally pull me under.

Chapter Text

A slow, heavy breath escapes me as I blink my eyes open. The weight of exhaustion clings to my limbs, but the second I recognize my surroundings, I groan.

The Order Hall. Again.

I push myself upright, my muscles sluggish, my mind still clouded with lingering fatigue. The grand chamber is eerily silent, the multi-colored beacon casting shifting shadows across the stone floor. The familiar flicker of its light barely does anything to warm the cold, hollow air around me.

A presence lingers nearby. I exhale sharply, already knowing who it is before I even turn my head.

"Onyx." I mutter, rolling my eyes as my gaze locks onto the figure standing a short distance away.

They grin, their expression laced with amusement, as if they expected my reaction.

"Y/N, good to see you're awake. I wanted to talk to you more after our previous discussion." Onyx shrugs, casual as ever.

I watch them, my patience already thinning. "Talk about what?" My voice is edged with irritation.

"About why I'm here. I'm sure you have questions." Onyx's smile is easy, almost friendly. But there's nothing about them that feels friendly.

The soft glow of the beacon reflects off their dark, taloned fingers as they move idly, their stance unnervingly relaxed. The glossy black wings draped over their shoulders shift slightly as they tilt their head, waiting for my response.

I cross my arms, my eyes narrowing slightly. "Yeah, I do have some questions. Why can I see you, but no one else can?"

"I told you, I am a part of you. Besides, mortals don't have the capability to sense my presence." Their tone is calm, almost dismissive.

I arch an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'mortals'? I'm a mortal, so I shouldn't be able to see you, let alone hold a conversation with you."

Onyx's grin widens, but it doesn't reach their eyes. "Oh, that's right. You don't know..." They let out an exaggerated sigh, flicking their claws as if this revelation is nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "Fine, let me spell it out for you. You can see and hear me because you're not human. Far from it, in fact."

A chill creeps up my spine.

"What?!" I yelp, the sheer boldness of their claim hitting me like a punch to the gut.

Onyx doesn't even flinch. "You have special abilities. That separates you from other mortals. Powers that keep you from being classified as human." Their voice is casual, as if they're simply stating facts rather than unraveling everything I thought I knew about myself. "I am simply the version of you should you embrace these abilities." They pause, before adding, "But there's more to it. Not only am I a different version of you, but I also serve as a guide—a mentor, if you will. My job is to teach you how to unlock and control your powers, and embrace your full potential."

The words settle like lead in my stomach.

Not human? I have abilities? Since when? Why have I never known about this before?

My mind is racing, thoughts clashing against each other, desperately trying to piece together what Onyx is saying.

They watch me carefully, their eerie, glowing eyes studying my every movement. "I see you're stressed." They comment, their voice laced with something resembling sympathy—but I can't tell if it's real or just another act. "I'm sure you have many questions, but I can't tell you all the answers. Some of them, you'll have to discover for yourself. But what I can tell you is that you're close to unlocking your powers. You've met every condition... except one." 

They hold up a single clawed finger for emphasis.

I swallow hard, forcing my voice to stay steady. "What's the condition I haven't met?"

"You have to lose something you truly care about. A lover or companion." Onyx's voice is even, almost detached. "It's the hardest stage to unlocking your abilities."

The words settle in my chest like ice. But before I can fully process it, Onyx exhales, their gaze dropping slightly. "Of course, there is another way."

I hesitate, my mind still trying to catch up. "What's the other option?"

Onyx doesn't answer right away. Their wings shift slightly, their talons curling and uncurling as they consider their words.

"You'll have to feel pure rage. Such a strong feeling of anger that it makes you feel like obliterating everything in your path." Their voice is quieter now, laced with something unreadable. "It's a much more dangerous method, and for good reason. If you were to feel this rage, your powers would unlock. However..."

They trail off. They don't need to finish.

I do it for them. "I would destroy everything around me."

Onyx nods once, the glow of the beacon casting long shadows across their face. "Precisely. It is not the recommended method, due to the danger it poses."

I let out a slow, unsteady breath, running a hand through my hair. "That's... a lot to think about."

"Indeed." Onyx agrees, their voice steady. "I understand if you need time, but I'm afraid that is a resource we're running short of. You must make a decision quickly. You'll need all the help you can get tomorrow."

Before I can respond, Onyx steps forward, pressing their clawed hand to my forehead. The touch is cold, sending a strange pulse through my skull.

The world around me shudders. Inky darkness floods my vision, swallowing me whole.

...

My eyes snap open, greeted by the wooden ceiling of the dorms. A faint golden glow filters through the cracks of the balcony door, the soft morning light stretching lazily across the room. The warmth of the sunrise touches my skin, but a strange heaviness lingers in my chest.

I turn my head slightly.

Jesse stands over the bed, his back facing me, arms stretched high as he basks in the golden light. His silhouette is outlined against the morning glow, his posture relaxed, muscles shifting subtly beneath his shirt as he rolls his shoulders. For a moment, everything else fades. The weight of Hadrian's deal, the looming final game, all of it disappears because my mind is caught on something else entirely.

I never realized how good he looked under a sunrise.

Before I can fully process the thought, Jesse turns, his expression easygoing, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Good morning, sleep well?"

I don't answer. My brain is still catching up.

Jesse blinks, then raises an eyebrow. "Uh, Y/N? Earth to Y/N, you're drooling."

His grin stretches into a cocky smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes.

I snap out of my daze, wiping at the corner of my mouth. My fingers meet nothing but skin.

"You liar!" I grumble, face heating up as I grab a pillow and hurl it at him.

Jesse catches it effortlessly, barely even flinching. "I know, you're just mad because I caught you in your morning stalking."

I roll my eyes. "I'm the stalker? You wanna talk about yesterday morning?"

Jesse freezes mid-motion. The color drains from his face.

"You... were awake?" His voice is suddenly hoarse, his eyes widening slightly. He clamps a hand over his mouth as if he just incriminated himself.

I smirk. "Obviously. So you can't be calling me a stalker."

Truthfully, I wasn't actually awake. I was just messing with him. But judging by the sheer horror flashing across his face, he definitely did something.

"Uh... we should probably get ready and head downstairs." Jesse blurts, turning away so fast it's almost comical.

I chuckle at his flustered state but let him escape the topic. For now.

A few minutes later...

Outside, the arena is already alive with movement. The air hums with tension. The gladiators are herding the respawns away from the players, their armor clanking as they push through the crowd.

I kneel beside Winslow, scratching behind his ears before sending him off with Lukas. "Stay with him, alright?" I murmur. Winslow flicks his tail and trots away without complaint.

I hope Winslow listens this time.

Jesse and I fall in line with the other competitors, the tunnel ahead of us swallowing the daylight as we move forward. The darkness ahead feels suffocating, stretching endlessly like the throat of a beast preparing to consume us whole. The weight of the final game settles heavily over me.

"Ladies and gentlemen! It is my privilege and my honor to be here today, kicking off another wonderful day of the games!"

Hadrian's voice booms over the announcement system, a smug, theatrical energy dripping from every word.

"That's right, Hadrian! And not just any day, but the final day of the games!" Otto's voice follows, his enthusiasm bordering on forced.

Jesse and I continue down the dimly lit tunnel, Facemeat leading the way with heavy, deliberate steps. His massive frame blocks out most of the light ahead, casting us deeper into shadow.

"Are our competitors ready for the final challenge?" Otto calls, his voice laced with anticipation.

"It's The Walls!" Mevia announces, an unmistakable excitement in her tone.

A low chuckle rumbles from Facemeat as he glances over his shoulder. "So, scared?" His voice is deep and taunting.

Jesse exhales dramatically. "After putting up with your breath this whole walk? Please. This 'Walls' thing doesn't scare me at all."

I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Still got your sense of humor, huh?" Facemeat grunts, crossing his arms as he pushes open the iron gate.

We're shoved into our section. The metal slams shut behind us with a loud clang. I turn to take in our surroundings and immediately groan. It's nothing but dirt and gravel.

"Mevia, for those unfamiliar with 'The Walls,' you wanna walk us through how it's played?" Hadrian's voice hums with something sly beneath the surface, as if he's setting up for a twist.

"Sure thing, Hadrian!" Mevia's voice practically sings. "Teams start out separated in their own sections, divided by the high inner walls. Each team has a short amount of time to gather materials, build defenses, and craft in their section before the walls come down!"

I press a hand to my forehead, exhaling sharply.

"Once the walls drop, it's every team for themselves!" Mevia continues, her excitement growing.

"But is surviving The Walls the end?" Hadrian asks, his voice dripping with feigned curiosity.

"No, it is not. Whichever team survives the free-for-all needs to step on the winner's platform in the center of the arena!" Mevia announces with pride.

Otto's voice booms above us. "Winner takes all!" His gaze briefly meets ours from the spectator's box.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "It can't be that easy, can it?"

"But let's not get ahead of ourselves!" Mevia chirps, her tone gleeful. "Because that's only if the would-be winners can defeat the gladiators!"

She giggles at her own words, her sadistic amusement ringing through the speakers.

"Of course." I mutter under my breath, exasperation heavy in my tone.

Jesse pats my shoulder lightly, a silent reassurance, before shifting his stance.

"So all competitors better get to gathering, because the clock is ticking!" Hadrian announces.

The countdown begins.

Jesse and I move in sync, sprinting to dig into the dirt. My fingers tear through the loose gravel, tossing it aside as I search for anything useful. The dry earth crumbles beneath my touch, the sound of shifting rocks and scraping nails filling my ears.

More dirt. More gravel.

I dig deeper, frustration mounting. Still nothing.

"This is a setup!" I grumble, throwing a dirt block angrily to the ground. The impact sends up a small cloud of dust, but it does nothing to quell my frustration.

Jesse doesn't respond right away, but I know he's thinking the same thing.

"Oh, do you know what time it is? It's time for the walls to drop!" Hadrian's voice crackles over the announcement system, smug and dripping with anticipation. 

A deep rumble shakes the ground beneath us as the towering walls of sand tremble before collapsing in a cascading rush. The golden dust billows into the air, momentarily obscuring the view, but as it settles, the arena is left wide open.

Exposed. All four teams stand still, sizing each other up. The tension is thick enough to choke on.

Across the field, Em locks eyes with me and Jesse. Her glare is sharp, her jaw tight. Without hesitation, she begins striding toward us, her boots kicking up loose grains of sand with each heavy step. My blood runs cold as my gaze drops to the weapon gripped tightly in her hand. A crude but deadly stone sword, its chipped edges still sharp enough to do damage.

"Em, you don't have to do this!" Jesse calls out, his voice urgent, but his plea barely registers. She doesn't slow, doesn't flinch, her focus razor-sharp.

A strange sensation prickles at my fingertips. A tingling, like static crawling over my skin.

"Y/N, do you feel that?" The voice is familiar. Unseen, yet ever-present. Onyx.

I nod slightly, hoping somehow they can see me. The sensation intensifies, spreading through my hand like an electric pulse, humming beneath my skin.

Em is getting closer. Jesse and I instinctively take a step back, but the sensation in my hand doesn't fade. If anything, it grows.

"Good. Now focus on that feeling." Onyx instructs, their voice threading through my mind like silk. "Imagine a sword. Feel the smooth handle against your fingertips. Envision the cold blade impaling your opponent."

I swallow hard, pushing away the unsettling imagery, but I obey. I close my eyes, concentrating.

Em's steps crunch against the sand, drawing near. My heart pounds, but I drown out the noise, and focus on the sensation—the humming energy, the tension coiling in my fingers. It grows stronger, hotter, almost alive.

And then something solid brushes against my palm. The electric pulse vanishes in an instant, replaced by a cool weight. My eyes snap open.

A diamond sword gleams in the sunlight, its blade pristine and sharp. My fingers are curled around the hilt as though it had always been there.

My breath catches. Did I just... summon this?

Em raises her sword. Jesse tenses beside me. I react on instinct, my body moving before my mind catches up. The sword in my hand lifts, ready to block— 

But the strike never comes.

Instead, Em flips her weapon, holding it flat in her palms, extending it toward us. A gesture of offering. I freeze. The tip of my blade hovers near her, a single motion away from striking, but she isn't attacking.

"Thought maybe it was time for me to start helping you." Em grins, her eyes flicking down to my sword with barely concealed amazement.

Jesse hesitates before reaching out, taking the stone sword from Em's grasp. He exhales in relief, a grin spreading across his face.

Is she helping us?

My mind races, but the bigger question burns hotter in my chest. I just conjured a sword out of thin air. OUT. OF. THIN. AIR.

"Thank you, Em. You made the right decision." Jesse says, before turning to me. His smile falters as he steps back slightly. "Y/N, where the hell did you get that?!"

His voice pitches in shock, eyes wide as they flick between me and the blade.

I blink, still struggling to process it myself. "I uh... I don't know. Out of thin air, I guess?"

"What?!" Jesse jumps back again, this time putting more space between us, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and awe.

"Look, I am just as confused as you are." I say, shaking my head as I very carefully lower it. My fingers still tingle from whatever just happened. Is this what Onyx meant?

"Come on, over here!" Em waves toward the other teams, motioning for them to gather. They hesitate, glancing at one another before stepping forward cautiously.

From the side of the arena, a deep voice rumbles, cutting through the growing tension.

"Hey! Why aren't you all killing each other?" Slab strides toward us, the other gladiators flanking him, their armor clanking as they move. His expression is a mixture of confusion and irritation, brows furrowed as he surveys the unusual truce forming before him.

Jesse meets his gaze, determination flaring in his eyes. "Aren't you tired of letting the Old Builders use you like this?"

Slab scoffs, flexing his biceps as if that alone is answer enough. "Like, uh... like awesome people?"

"No! Like little pieces in their games! Doing whatever they say!" Jesse steps forward, his voice sharp with frustration as he looks directly at the gladiators. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his stance unwavering.

"Don't you guys get it? We're not your enemy, they are!" I step up beside him, my voice carrying across the arena. The weight of every word presses into the space between us. "They're behind all of this. Think about it! You're all trapped here too, but the Old Builders gave you fancy, shiny weapons and pretended you're special. But they don't care about you. They don't care about any of us!"

The arena is eerily silent. The pink-haired gladiator groans, pressing her fingers to her temples as if the words physically hurt. "Ugh, my head hurts."

"Too... many... perspectives..." Facemeat grunts, shaking his head, his expression twisted in confusion.

Overhead, Hadrian's voice slices through the moment like a blade. "And it appears Y/N has decided deals don't need to be kept!" His voice echoes from the speakers, laced with amusement and condescension.

I exhale sharply, my chest burning with frustration. Then, something inside me snaps.

"You know what, Hadrian?!" I throw my arms wide, my voice booming across the arena. "I can't tell you how long I've wanted to say this—fuck you!"

Gasps ripple through the crowd.

"These games... these people... they don't belong to you!" I jab a finger toward him, my pulse hammering in my ears. The tension in the air is suffocating, all eyes locked on me.

Jesse just grins, a proud smile pulling at his lips. He looks at me like I just said the exact thing he's been dying to say himself.

The pink-haired gladiator exhales, her shoulders slumping slightly. "These weren't our games?" She stares down at the ground, her grip on her axe loosening. "Wow, my urge to destroy is... dissipating."

"Slab? Slab! What should we do?" She asks, turning to her friend, and shaking him by the shoulders.

Slab stands rigid, eyes flicking between us and the Old Builders. He's torn, his normally brash confidence wavering.

"Slab, come on." I urge, taking a careful step toward him. "Do you know what they see you as? Nothing more than a dog, loyal to its master. But it doesn't have to be that way. You can choose, but you have to choose for yourself. If you'll join us, you'll finally be free."

My hand extends toward him, palm open, waiting.

Facemeat and the pink-haired gladiator exchange a glance before mumbling something between themselves. Without a word, they turn and walk away.

Slab doesn't move.

"Slab..." My voice is quieter now, no longer a shout across the battlefield, but something softer. "You don't have to make a decision right now. But I'm begging you... don't listen to Hadrian."

The hesitation in his expression is evident. His brow furrows, his fingers twitch at his sides. The weight of everything seems to press down on him at once.

"In my life, I've done things I'm not proud of." Slab mutters, pacing a short distance before stopping, exhaling sharply. "But I won't work for bosses who use people. Who manipulate them. That's... inconsiderate!"

Jesse starts to speak, his eyes lighting up. "Wow, Slab, that's—"

Slab holds up a hand. "Let me finish." He interrupts. "Your friend knocked me out of my tower! You tried to get in the way when I was just following orders. I think... I think I need some time to be my own boss."

Without another word, he turns on his heel and storms off.

Jesse watches him go, blinking before shaking his head. "I think it's time for us to finish this... together!"

He turns, motioning toward the winner's platform. The moment stretches, everything coming to a head.

This is it.

Jesse bolts toward the platform first, scaling the ladder with quick, determined movements. I follow close behind, the adrenaline coursing through my veins making every motion feel sharper, more alive.

Jesse reaches the top, and just as I grab onto the final rung, he extends his hand, gripping my wrist and pulling me up beside him.

Below us, the other players begin to follow, their movements no longer hesitant but filled with purpose. Above, Hadrian and Mevia's voices explode over the speakers, their screams of protest ringing across the arena.

Jesse grins, his fingers tightening around mine as he lifts our entwined hands high into the air. A triumphant smile spreads across my face, and this time, I don't fight it.

"And they've done it! The competitors have stepped onto the platform together!" Otto's voice booms over the announcement system, thick with excitement. "Which, by the Old Builder game laws, means they are all the winners!"

For a moment, the entire arena stands still. Then the explosion of cheers erupts like a crashing wave.

The players behind us celebrate, their shouts ringing through the arena, a chorus of victory after what felt like an endless battle. The tension that had suffocated us for so long finally lifts, breaking apart under the weight of the moment.

Jesse doesn't hesitate. He turns to me, eyes shining with triumph, and pulls me into a tight embrace. His arms wrap around me with a fierce kind of relief, as if he still can't quite believe we did it. My fingers curl into the fabric of his armor, gripping onto him like an anchor, my breath still catching from the adrenaline.

"We did it." Jesse exhales, his voice breathless with disbelief.

The moment is warm, electric with the rush of victory. But even as the cheers ring in my ears, something colder settles just beyond the moment.

"Something tells me it's not over yet." I murmur, loosening my grip.

Jesse follows my gaze as the figures descend toward us. Hadrian. Mevia. Otto.

We step down from the platform, still standing tall despite the shift in the air. The celebration continues behind us, but in front of us, Hadrian's expression is stone cold.

His steps are sharp, his movements precise, calculated. His lips curl into a sneer, and for the first time, there is no amusement, no arrogance. There is only fury.

"We. Had. A. Deal." Hadrian spits, his voice sharp like the crack of a whip. "And you broke it."

His entire body is rigid, his breathing heavier than usual. There's a crack in his composure, a fracture in the control he always flaunted.

Hadrian is expecting me to back down. He's waiting for me to shrink under his glare the way I always used to.

I don't.

I step forward, closing the distance between us. The roar of the crowd fades into a dull hum. My heartbeat steadies, my breathing evens out. I lift my chin, meeting Hadrian's glare with one of my own.

The same glare that used to make me cower. The same glare that once drained the air from my lungs, that made me feel small, that made me feel like nothing.

I don't blink. I don't waver. I just watch him.

Hadrian's sneer twitches. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his shoulders tightening as if bracing for a blow. He is waiting for me to react, waiting for me to crumble the way he has made so many others crumble before.

But I don't. I just keep staring.

The silence between us stretches longer than it should. Something shifts in Hadrian's expression. He tries to mask it, but it is there—the flicker of hesitation, the crack of uncertainty. His fingers twitch, and for the first time, he shifts under the weight of his own stare.

"We did have a deal." I say, keeping my voice even and my tone calm. "But you were never going to hold up your end. You never have."

Hadrian clenches his jaw. His nostrils flare. His breathing is shallower now.

"Face it, Hadrian." I continue, my words slow, deliberate. "You don't control me. And you don't control any of these people anymore."

My lack of reaction only fuels Hadrian’s anger. His jaw tightens, and the muscles in his neck strain as he glares at me.

"This isn’t up to you, little brat! We control the games, we decide their outcome!" Before he can step forward, Mevia shoves past him, her movements sharp and erratic. Her pale face is twisted with rage, her lips curled into a snarl as she gets right in my face.

"Aww, did the old hag miss her nap today?" I taunt, tilting my head slightly.

Mevia’s expression darkens. A furious growl rises in her throat, and in an instant, she raises her hand, fingers curled into a claw, aiming straight for my face.

Instinct kicks in. My hand shoots up, catching her wrist before she can strike.

She gasps, eyes widening in shock. Her balance shifts slightly, but before she can recover, I shove her back hard. She stumbles, nearly losing her footing.

Jesse steps forward, his voice dripping with mockery. "Seems like you’re losing your temper, Mevia. What’s the matter? Not having fun anymore?"

Mevia’s face flushes red, her nostrils flaring as she sucks in an enraged breath. "Why you little—"

"Now, Mevia..." Otto's voice cuts through the tension, calm yet firm. He steps between us, his usual easygoing grin returning. "Jesse and Y/N won these games, fair and square. They've earned The Atlas."

Hadrian’s head snaps toward Otto, his gaze narrowing into a dangerous glare. "Otto, I would think very carefully about what you’re doing." His voice is low, threatening, like a snake ready to strike.

Otto meets his glare with unwavering confidence. "I have." He reaches into his inventory and pulls out a yellow and blue book, its cover glistening under the arena lights. "Jesse, Y/N, with the power vested in me as an officiator of the Builder Games, I’m proud to—"

He never gets to finish.

Hadrian and Mevia move in a flash. Before any of us can react, dark obsidian pillars shoot up from the ground, trapping Otto inside a prison of his own. The blocks thud into place, sealing shut with an ominous finality.

A startled yelp escapes Otto from inside, but his protests are muffled by the thick stone.

Hadrian and Mevia stand atop the newly-formed chamber, looking down at us with gleaming satisfaction.

I grit my teeth. I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

"Now, it’s been fun, really." Mevia hisses, gripping the handle of a diamond axe as she steps forward. Her grin is sharp, predatory. "But I think it’s about time we end this."

Hadrian’s gaze locks onto Jesse, his eyes flickering with something cold and calculating. "Surrender the Redstone Heart. Now."

This is it. They have no idea what we’re planning.

Jesse plants his feet firmly, squaring his shoulders. "You want the Redstone Heart?" His voice is steady, unwavering. "You’re gonna have to take it out of my inventory."

Hadrian exhales through his nose, tilting his head slightly, amused. "Fine by me. The hard way is more fun anyway."

I barely have time to react before Hadrian and Mevia strike again.

Walls of obsidian shoot up from the ground, trapping the other players. Cries of protest echo from behind the black stone, but the thick walls swallow their voices.

We’re alone.

"This is pointless!" Em’s voice shrieks through the arena. My head snaps to the side just in time to see her sprinting away. Her movements are quick, erratic—pure panic.

"Now that you’ve lost your oversized friend, you really have no chance." Hadrian smirks, leaping down from the obsidian tower with effortless ease.

"Run away, little Emily!" Mevia taunts, laughing as she steps closer.

Jesse glances at me, uncertainty flickering in his expression. I nod once, gripping my sword tighter.

Hadrian lunges at Jesse, his movements precise and controlled. Mevia sprints toward me, her diamond axe glinting under the stadium lights as she swings wildly. I raise my blade just in time, the clang of metal-on-metal ringing in my ears.

She's fast. Faster than I gave her credit for.

Her attacks come in rapid succession, each swing heavier than the last. I parry the blows, but then she shifts tactics, using brute force instead. Her foot slams into my gut. Pain shoots through my ribs. I hit the ground hard, air leaving my lungs in a sharp gasp.

Before I can recover, Mevia spins on her heel and dashes toward Jesse. My vision refocuses just in time to see her dart behind him, obsidian blocks rising behind her in a perfect trap. Jesse's back collides against the wall.

Mevia creeps around the corner, her axe raised high above her head, ready to strike.

"Oh no you don't!" I snarl, forcing myself to my feet. My legs burn as I sprint forward, adrenaline forcing my muscles into action.

I tackle her just as she swings. The force sends both of us crashing to the ground. Mevia grunts in frustration, struggling beneath me, her axe skidding across the arena floor. Jesse barely has time to process what happened before the sharp crackle of TNT igniting fills the air.

My stomach drops.

I roll off her just in time, narrowly dodging the explosion as a blast of fire and smoke erupts nearby. The shockwave sends us both sprawling in opposite directions.

Mevia scrambles to her feet, breathing heavily. Her eyes dart past me, locking onto something behind my shoulder. I don't wait to find out what she sees.

I swing my blade as she lunges, but she ducks beneath my strike, her feet barely making a sound as she takes off in a dead sprint toward an obsidian bridge.

Hadrian and Jesse stand on the bridge, locked in their battle of wills. But Mevia isn’t after Hadrian. She's after Jesse.

My heart slams against my ribs as I take off, feet pounding against the stone beneath me. Mevia is fast, her diamond axe gleaming under the artificial stadium lights as she closes in on Jesse. He dodges at the last second, her weapon cutting through empty space as he sprints past her, heading straight for Hadrian.

Jesse doesn’t hesitate.

He slams into Hadrian with full force, their bodies colliding in a brutal crash. The impact sends Hadrian stumbling backward, his balance slipping, his feet skidding against the fractured stone.

And then he’s gone. The hole, a crater left behind by an earlier TNT blast, swallows him whole.

Jesse straightens, breathing heavily, approaching the edge cautiously. "Had enough, Hadrian?" he grunts, towering over him.

Below, Hadrian scrambles upright, dust and debris clinging to his purple blazer. His expression flickers, the sharp anger in his eyes momentarily replaced by something else.

"Wait, wait! You’re right!" Hadrian blurts out, hands raised in mock surrender. "This was just supposed to be a game!"

My gut twists. Something isn’t right.

From the corner of my eye, movement flashes. A streak of black, slicing through the air, heading straight for Jesse’s unprotected back.

Mevia. The obsidian spike flies toward him, sharp as a spear, the light glinting off its jagged edges.

I don’t think. I don’t hesitate.

I run.

My body moves on pure instinct, every muscle screaming as I push forward. "Look out!" My voice rips through the air as I throw my entire weight into Jesse, shoving him aside with everything I have.

Pain explodes through my stomach. The force is blinding, like white-hot fire sinking deep into my core. A choked sound escapes my throat as the breath is driven from my lungs.

Jesse lands hard on the ground, eyes wide in horror. "No!" His voice cracks, raw with panic.

The world feels slow. My mind takes a second too long to catch up. I force myself to look down.

A jagged obsidian spike is lodged deep in my abdomen, blackened edges slick with my own blood.

My sword slips from my grasp, clattering uselessly to the ground. My jaw hangs open, but no words come out. My body registers nothing but the searing agony radiating from the wound.

I wrap trembling hands around the spike, my fingers slick with blood as I grip the obsidian. A ragged breath escapes me as I brace myself—then I yank. A strangled cry leaves my throat as the spike tears free. The pain is unbearable, but I don’t have time to process it.

I stagger forward, searching for Jesse—

But I freeze.

Mevia is behind him. He hasn’t seen her.

I open my mouth to shout, but Jesse moves before I can. He whirls around, just in time to catch her axe on his sword. The impact sends sparks flying as stone meets diamond—

Then his sword shatters.

The crack echoes through the arena, fragments scattering across the ground. The force of the blow knocks Jesse off his feet, his back slamming against the hard stone.

Mevia grins. She lifts both of her axes high, her eyes gleaming with twisted delight. Then, she brings them down.

I watch, powerless, as two diamond axes sink into Jesse’s chest. A quiet gasp escapes him. His inventory spills out in a flash of color, items scattering in every direction. His body vanishes in a burst of white smoke.

For a moment, I forget how to breathe. The world tilts around me, vision swimming.

I don’t move. I don’t think. I just watch as Hadrian and Mevia descend on Jesse’s dropped items like vultures.

"Where is it?!" Mevia hisses, shoving aside weapons and supplies with reckless desperation. "Where is the Redstone Heart?!"

Hadrian’s movements come to a grinding halt. His fingers hover over Jesse’s discarded items before his eyes flick toward me.

A chill spreads through my body. He knows.

He sees it in my eyes, the way my fingers twitch ever so slightly. His expression shifts, twisting into something dark and hungry.

Then he moves. I barely have time to react before Hadrian lunges.

His hands slam against my shoulders, forcing me back, my already unsteady legs buckling beneath me. The wound in my stomach screams in protest as my back collides with the rough surface of a stone wall.

I stare up at him, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My limbs feel weak, the edges of my vision fading into hazy shadows.

"Y/N... Oh, Y/N." Hadrian drawls, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "The trouble you've caused me. I’ve grown quite sick of this little rebellion of yours."

His tone is light, almost amused, but there’s an edge to it, a weight that presses down on my already unsteady body. He watches me like a predator toying with its prey, drinking in every sign of my exhaustion, every ragged breath I take.

"Did you have fun?" His voice turns almost playful, as if this is all a joke to him. "Did you get everything out of your system?"

I open my mouth to respond, but my throat is dry, my mind sluggish, my body weak. "I—"

"Good, good." The sharpness of his interruption slices through the air, final and absolute. There is no room for argument, no space for defiance. My voice dies in my throat.

Hadrian tilts his head slightly, his expression softening—too soft, too calculated. "The time has come to prove yourself." He says, voice lowering into something that almost sounds... gentle. "Give me the Redstone Heart. Take your place by my side. We can be a family again."

The words wrap around me like chains, heavy and suffocating. The ground beneath me feels unsteady, the edges of my vision blurring. My breath is shallow, my fingers twitching slightly as I struggle to process his words, to force my body to react.

But I don’t. I can’t. I stay silent, frozen in place, unable to formulate an answer as the light-headed haze seeps deeper into my mind.

Hadrian exhales sharply, his patience wearing thin. His eyes narrow as he watches me, his presence heavy, suffocating, filling every inch of space between us.

"Ugh, I can tell you're still thinking about those so-called 'friends' of yours." He sneers, his tone laced with disdain. "Forget about them. Your place is here. It’s time to fulfill your destiny."

He takes a step closer, each movement calculated, each word pressing into me like a weight I can’t shake. "Give me the Redstone Heart."

Something in his voice pulls at me, something I can’t quite fight. The world around me tilts, my body swaying under the weight of exhaustion. My head feels light, my limbs sluggish, my vision hazy. I can’t tell if it’s the blood loss or something deeper, but for a terrifying moment, my body moves before my mind can catch up.

My hand drifts toward my inventory, my fingers closing around a familiar warmth. A slow, steady pulse radiates from the Redstone Heart, a rhythmic thrum that spreads up my arm.

Hadrian’s lips curl into a satisfied grin, his expression dark with triumph. The red glow from the Heart casts long shadows over his face, deepening the sharpness in his eyes. He doesn’t look at me. He looks at the power in my hands, hunger flashing in his gaze.

His fingers reach forward, slow and deliberate, closing in on mine.

"Do not listen to him. Quickly, you have to heal yourself!" Onyx’s voice rings out in my mind, urgent and sharp.

I want to move. I want to fight. But I can’t. My body won’t listen, and the Heart’s pulse only grows stronger in my grip.

Then—

"Hadrian! Let them go!" A voice shatters the haze. Jesse.

My breath catches, the suffocating pressure lifting just enough for me to react. My gaze snaps to Jesse, and for the first time, I see him clearly. He stands tall, unmoving, his body clad in Tim’s armor. The golden plating gleams under the arena lights, bold and untarnished, a stark contrast to the darkness pressing in from all sides.

Hadrian’s smirk doesn’t waver, but there is something different in the way he looks at Jesse. His eyes sweep over him like a predator watching its prey, measuring, calculating.

"Aww, how cute." Hadrian murmurs, voice laced with mock amusement. "You found Tim’s armor."

His stare lingers on Jesse for a moment longer before his eyes flick back to me. The hunger is still there, but now there’s something else—a flicker of something cautious.

Something changes inside me.

A sudden force ripples through my body, starting at my fingertips and spreading like a storm breaking free. The sensation is sharp and undeniable, a crackling surge of energy coursing through my veins.

The pain in my stomach fades, the wound knitting itself shut as if it had never been there. The lightheadedness vanishes, the air in my lungs steady and strong. My vision sharpens, the blurred edges snapping into focus.

I flex my fingers. Strength surges through them, more solid than anything I've ever felt before. My grip tightens around my sword. The weight in my chest lifts, replaced with something new. Power floods through my body, steady and unshakable.

I don't think I've ever felt like this before. I don’t think I've ever felt this strong.

"I won’t repeat myself. Let. Them. Go." Jesse’s voice is low, edged with a dangerous growl as he tightens his grip on his blade. His knuckles turn white from the pressure, his stance firm and unwavering.

Hadrian barely reacts, a smirk creeping across his face as he tilts his head, eyes gleaming with arrogance. "Or what? I'm the one in control here."

"You should probably listen to him." I say, my tone casual, deliberately nonchalant.

Hadrian’s smirk falters as he turns his attention back to me, his expression sharpening. "Oh? And why would I do that?"

I glance downward, then back up, my lips curling into a smirk of my own.

The sharp edge of my blade is already pressing against Hadrian’s abdomen, the cold metal grazing his armor, just a fraction away from piercing through fabric and skin. His breath hitches for a split second, but the moment of surprise is quickly replaced with fury. His nostrils flare, his jaw clenching as a deep growl rumbles from his throat.

Then, from the corner of my eye, something moves. Onyx.

They stand a short distance away, watching intently, their clawed hand outstretched, palm facing upward. Their otherworldly gaze meets mine, steady and knowing. They nod once.

They want me to copy them.

A tingling sensation surges through my fingers, growing hotter, stronger, coiling through my veins like fire. As I mimic Onyx’s stance, lifting my hand with my palm open, something inside me shifts.

A pulse of energy explodes outward. The force slams into Hadrian like a hammer, sending him flying backward. His body crashes against the stone ground, skidding to a stop as dust and debris scatter around him.

I stare down at my hands, my chest rising and falling rapidly. My fingers tremble slightly, the lingering energy still buzzing beneath my skin.

Hadrian lifts his head, his expression stunned, his wide, glassy eyes locked onto me in disbelief. He looks almost human in that moment—his arrogance momentarily shattered, replaced by something resembling fear.

Jesse doesn’t waste a second. He lunges forward, using Hadrian’s distraction to his advantage.

Before I can see the outcome, a sharp whistle cuts through the air.

My eyes snap to Mevia. She glares at me with unrestrained fury, her grip tightening on another obsidian spike. Without hesitation, she hurls it directly at me.

Everything slows.

I see the jagged, black projectile cutting through the air, spinning as it comes straight for my chest.

I glance at Onyx. They extend their hand once more, fingers poised in midair. Then, without a word, they curl them into a tight fist.

I understand.

I raise my hand, mirroring the motion.The obsidian spike halts midair, hovering mere inches from my face.

Mevia gasps, her confident expression twisting into disbelief. I say nothing. My fingers close, slow and controlled.

A sharp, splintering crack echoes through the arena.

The spike fractures. Deep lines form along its surface, spider-webbing outward until—

It shatters.

Glass-like shards rain down, disappearing before they hit the ground. The energy still courses through me, stronger than before, but I don’t focus on it.

I focus on Mevia.

She stumbles backward, her movements unsteady. Fear flashes across her face. Instead of attacking, she backs away.

I step forward, closing the distance. She keeps retreating until her back presses against the solid stone wall behind her.

Her hands tremble. Her breathing is shallow.

"No." She breathes, shaking her head. "No one stops obsidian. No one! What the hell are you?!" she screeches, her voice high and frantic, no longer the confident executioner she once was.

I tilt my head slightly, letting the silence stretch.

Then I raise my hand once more. "I'm the devil you forgot." I murmur, my voice steady, unwavering. "The monster you thought you could muzzle."

Mevia has no time to react. With a flick of my wrist, an invisible force latches onto her. Her feet lift from the ground, her boots scraping against the stone as she rises a few inches into the air.

Her eyes widen in horror as she claws at her throat, gasping for air. Her body writhes, hands grasping at nothing, struggling against the invisible hold constricting her.

I tighten my grip. Mevia’s breath turns into ragged, broken gasps. Her body shakes violently as she lets out a strangled cry.

And then—

A puff of white smoke erupts where she once stood. She’s gone.

Her inventory spills across the ground, scattering in a chaotic mess of weapons, supplies, and armor. I barely pay it any mind, my focus already shifting. Hadrian.

I turn just in time to see him scrambling to his feet, his expression twisted in frustration as he builds rapidly across a massive pit. Jesse is already rolling out of the way, stepping onto Hadrian’s newly formed obsidian bridge.

They both stand on it now. Right above a pit lined with glass, lava bubbling below.

My stomach tightens. If one of them falls... the pistons will crush them.

Hadrian swings hard, his fist connecting with Jesse’s chest and sending him sprawling onto his back. The sound of the impact echoes through the arena, followed by Jesse’s sharp grunt as he hits the bridge.

"Hey, Hadrian! Over here!" A voice rings out, sharp and unwavering. Hadrian’s head snaps toward the source of the interruption.

I step onto the other side of the bridge, blocking his only way out.

Then my stomach drops. Petra?!

Why is she down here? She should be safe with the others, but there she is, standing just beyond the pit. It doesn’t matter. Right now, she’s distracting Hadrian, and that’s all we need.

"You mess with one member of the Order of the Stone, you mess with all of us!" Axel steps forward, arms crossed, his stance solid.

Ivor, Petra, Lukas, Axel, Harper, Olivia, and Em all stand at the edge of the pit, their gazes locked onto Hadrian, eyes burning with intensity. The weight of their presence presses in from all sides, surrounding him like a tightening noose.

Hadrian whirls around, eyes darting between us, his body stiffening as he realizes there’s no way out.

"Nowhere to run, Hadrian." I say, my voice steady, a smirk tugging at my lips.

Hadrian drags a hand through his hair, his usual arrogance faltering as frustration creeps into his features. "You think this is going to help?! You're deluded!" he snaps, his voice losing its usual commanding edge.

Jesse gets to his feet, brushing off the dust clinging to his armor. He tilts his head slightly, considering Hadrian with a thoughtful hum.

"Jesse... let's talk about this..." Hadrian tries again, his voice smoother now, masking the nerves underneath.

Jesse taps his chin as if considering. "Hmm? Is that... begging?" His lips curl into a smirk as he glances at Petra. "Does that sound like begging to you, Petra?"

Petra crosses her arms, grinning. "It sure does, Jesse."

Winslow meows in agreement, perched on Lukas’s shoulder, his tail flicking lazily.

Hadrian’s expression darkens. His chest rises and falls faster, his frustration unraveling into something more volatile. "Shut up! Just shut up, all of you!" His voice is raw, edged with desperation as he looks around wildly, searching for an escape that doesn’t exist.

"Oh? Does someone have a little stage fright?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Hadrian’s glare snaps to me, his entire body tensing. His nostrils flare, and his hands clench into tight fists, knuckles turning white with pressure. That’s the moment Jesse strikes.

With one swift motion, he produces a pickaxe from his inventory. He swings downward, shattering the obsidian beneath Hadrian’s feet. The block gives way instantly. Hadrian plummets.

Without thinking, I lunge forward, my hand shooting out on instinct. My fingers catch his wrist just before he sinks any further.

Hadrian dangles over the pit, his wide, panicked eyes locking onto mine. His other hand flails for something—anything—to grab onto, but there’s nothing.

His expression is raw, stripped of the arrogance, stripped of the superiority. He looks at me with confusion, as if he can’t understand why I reached for him.

I don’t know either.

For a moment, I stare down at him, my breath coming in short, steady exhales. Then, something inside me shifts. My grip tightens for just a second, then slowly loosens.

A cruel smirk spreads across my lips. My eyes glint with something sharp, something final.

I lean in slightly, my face bathed in the glow of the lava below. The flickering light casts long shadows across Hadrian’s features, illuminating the growing horror in his eyes.

"Long live the Old Builders." I murmur, my tone laced with enough malice to burn through him like acid.

Then I let go.

Hadrian’s body drops, hitting the glass floor below with a dull thud. He barely has time to react before the pistons close in from either side. The grinding of stone fills the air, a sharp, mechanical whir. A single second of silence hangs in the space between us.

Then—

Hadrian vanishes in a burst of white smoke. His inventory spills out, scattering across the glass lazily, turning over and over before settling in place.

A breath escapes me. Then another. Something heavy lifts from my shoulders, a weight I hadn’t even realized I’d been carrying. After all these years... it's finally over.

Joy bubbles up inside me, overwhelming, exhilarating. I don’t hesitate. I take off toward Jesse, my feet barely touching the ground.

He sees me coming and grins, his arms already open. I slam into him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. He catches me without hesitation, his own arms locking around my waist, fingers digging into my spine as if grounding himself in the moment.

He breathes out a shaky exhale, his head pressing into my shoulder. We stay like that. No one speaks, but I can feel the weight of the moment settling over everyone, the silent smirks exchanged between our friends as they watch us.

"You did it." I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. "You won."

Jesse pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, his hands still gripping my lower spine, his touch firm and steady. Our foreheads press together, the warmth of his breath fanning across my face.

My heart pounds against my ribs, blood rushing so fast it echoes in my ears. For the first time in what feels like forever, we are free.

"Yeah... I did." Jesse breathes, his voice a little uneven, like he's still coming down from the rush of everything that just happened. His eyes flick to my lips, lingering there before meeting my gaze again. "Have I told you how goddamn kissable you look right now?"

A shiver rolls down my spine at the sudden shift in his tone.

"No, I don't suppose you have." I murmur, every racing thought in my head coming to a dead stop, narrowing to just one thing.

Jesse’s hand moves slowly, cupping my cheek with a gentleness that contrasts the heat in his eyes. He leans in, his breath warm against my skin, his lips hovering just close enough to tease.

"Would you care for a demonstration then?" His voice is quiet, low, the words brushing against my lips as he speaks.

The space between us disappears.

"Can you two please just kiss already?!" Petra’s voice breaks through the moment, full of exasperation.

I jolt slightly, my whole body going rigid. Jesse pulls back a fraction, blinking, while I immediately look away, suddenly very interested in the floor. My face burns as I fumble for an excuse, any excuse to escape the sheer embarrassment of being caught in the moment.

"We should probably get Ott—" I start, attempting to pull away.

"Fuck it." Jesse mutters.

His grip on my face tightens, firm but not rough, grounding.

Before I can react, Jesse pulls me forward, pressing me flush against his chest. The next thing I know, his lips crash into mine.

The world tilts.

For a second, my eyes widen in pure shock, but then warmth spreads through my chest, melting away every ounce of hesitation. I relax into him, my hands instinctively finding their place at the base of his neck, my fingers curling into the fabric of his armor.

His lips move against mine, fierce yet soft, like he’s been waiting too long for this moment. Everything else—the noise, the laughter, the battlefield—fades into nothing. Right now, there is only him.

A chorus of wolf whistles and cheers erupts from our friends, shattering the moment like a stone through glass. Jesse and I pull away, breathless, faces inches apart as we suck in much-needed air.

His forehead stays pressed against mine, and despite the flustered grin tugging at his lips, there’s something softer in his eyes, something that makes my stomach flip.

His hands slowly drop from my face, and I do the same, stepping back slightly as the heat rushes to my cheeks. Without thinking, I lift my hands to shield my expression from prying eyes, but the damage is already done.

"Aha! Petra, you owe me ten iron!" Lukas grins triumphantly.

Petra lets out a groan, crossing her arms. "Ugh, fine. Once I actually have a full inventory, then I’ll pay you."

"What did you two bet on now?" Ivor sighs, already pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"On whether Jesse would finally grow a pair and kiss Y/N or not." Lukas smirks, glancing at me with a mischievous glint in his eye. I shoot him a glare, but the amusement dancing on his face only grows stronger.

"Wait... are they together or not?" Em asks, raising a skeptical brow.

"I don't think even they know at this point." Olivia shrugs, casting Jesse and me a knowing look.

Jesse exhales a small chuckle before turning his attention back to me. His hands, still warm from the heat of battle, gently guide mine away from my face. His touch is light, but firm, grounding. "Hey... how do you feel?"

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with air that, for the first time in what feels like years, doesn't carry the weight of chains. The tension, the constant struggle, the suffocating control—it’s gone.

"Free." I murmur, letting the word settle in my chest. "For the first time in years, I finally feel free."

Jesse’s eyes soften, his expression unreadable but warm.

"Well, Jesse, you did it again. Feels like I say that a lot." Lukas exclaims, shaking his head with a grin as Winslow leaps off his shoulder.

Jesse and I step off the obsidian bridge, and the feline immediately rubs against my legs with a soft purr, his tail flicking against my ankle.

"I couldn't have done anything without all of you." Jesse says, pulling off his helmet and running a hand through his damp hair.

"Well done, Jesse. Y/N. An excellent job." Otto compliments, stepping forward with an approving nod. Harper silently slips a diamond pickaxe into her inventory, her sharp gaze scanning the battlefield.

"Uh.... thanks, Otto." Jesse replies, a little taken aback.

Otto folds his hands together, his expression tight with regret. "You two have truly shown my friends and me the error of our ways."

Jesse tilts his head, studying Otto with a mixture of skepticism and amusement. "Man, you need some new friends. You know that?"

Otto lets out a slow sigh, nodding. "Yes, I have come to that same conclusion, and I am... working on it. I also know that The Atlas is not mine to keep."

Before he can say more, a chorus of screams erupts from the respawn zone, sharp cries of pain and frustration filling the air.

I turn toward the noise, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Hey, Slab!" I call out.

His head pops up from the mass of chaos. "Yeah?"

"Save Hadrian for me. I've got a score to settle with him." I answer.

Slab only nods, grabbing Hadrian by the scruff of his collar and yanking him free from the storm of fists still flying toward Mevia.

"Guys—" I start.

Jesse cuts me off with a knowing look. "We know. Go do your thing. It’s been a long time coming."

I nod once, then step into the respawn zone. The air is heavy with anticipation. I can feel the weight of their eyes on me—Jesse, Petra, Lukas, Olivia, Ivor, Harper, even the freed players. But I don’t care.

Hadrian pales at the sight of me approaching. His body tenses, his muscles straining as he squirms in Slab’s iron grip. Slab doesn’t budge. His hold is unyielding, his stance relaxed but firm, as if Hadrian’s struggles are nothing more than an amusing inconvenience.

I don’t slow down.

I grab Hadrian by the hair, yanking his head back. He lets out a strangled yell, his hands clawing at my wrist, but I don’t loosen my grip. I drag him out of the respawn zone, his feet stumbling and scraping against the stone floor.

The other players pour out of their obsidian chamber, forming a loose circle around us. Their expressions are unreadable—some are eager, others wary, but all of them watch with intent.

I stop. Hadrian is forced to his knees in front of them. His breath is uneven, his face twisted in frustration, but there’s a flicker of something else in his wide eyes. Fear.

"Apologize." I command, yanking his hair again.

"What?!" Hadrian yelps, voice cracking at the edges.

I tighten my grip, pulling harder. "Apologize to all of these people. Say you’re sorry for all the pain you caused them."

Hadrian grits his teeth, his shoulders trembling as he fights against the order. My boot presses down on his knee, forcing him lower, ensuring he understands that there’s no way out of this.

"I’m sorry!" He chokes out, the words rushed, desperate. "I’m sorry for imprisoning you all here!"

The crowd remains silent, their faces unreadable. Some look satisfied. Others look like they don’t believe him. But I'm not done.

Still gripping his hair, I yank him back to his feet and drag him toward Jesse and the others. His shoes scrape against the stone, his weight nearly dead in my grasp as he stumbles forward.

I force him to face them. "Them too. Apologize for what you did."

Hadrian’s jaw tightens. He glares at Jesse, then at me, pure hatred flickering in his expression.

"Never!" He spits, his voice ragged with defiance.

"Wrong answer." I hiss.

My knee slams into his gut with brutal force. The impact knocks the air from his lungs, his body crumpling forward as he lets out a sharp wheeze. He gasps, coughing violently, his entire frame trembling. I step back, giving him space to regain his breath, but not enough to recover his pride.

"I won’t repeat myself." I say, my voice cold, measured.

My fingers curl around the hilt of my sword. The blade glints under the stadium lights as I draw it, the steel whispering against its sheath. Hadrian stiffens.

The arrogance that once sat on his face is gone, stripped away, leaving only raw, desperate fear. I watch him, silent, waiting.

The only sound is his ragged breathing, the faint clinking of weapons shifting in the hands of the people around us.

"Jesse, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for putting your friends in the mines, for trying to kill you, and for trying to keep you all stuck here!" Hadrian’s voice cracks as he wails, his body trembling with each gasping breath. Tears streak down his face, cutting uneven paths through the dirt smeared across his skin. His shoulders shake violently, his sobs raw and unrestrained.

I release my grip on his hair, and he crumples forward, face-first into the dirt. A pitiful noise escapes him, muffled against the ground, but I don’t flinch.

I watch him with a detached sort of amusement, unimpressed. The mighty Hadrian, brought to his knees, groveling in the filth.

Finally, he pushes himself up, his fingers digging into the dirt as he struggles to sit up straight. His face is a mess, streaked with grime and tear tracks, his breath still uneven.

"Finally done crying?" I scoff, arms crossing over my chest.

Hadrian’s body stills. His hands curl into fists at his sides. His lip curls as he spits out a bitter mutter, low and sharp. "You little brat... It's a good thing you're not mine..."

I freeze. The words hit like a cold blade pressed against my spine, sharp enough to cut through the satisfaction that had settled in my chest just moments ago.

"What?" My voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it. My entire focus narrows in on him, every muscle in my body tensing.

Hadrian exhales sharply, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. "Ah, shit. You heard me." His tone is flat, but there’s something unreadable in his expression, something almost amused.

My fists clench at my sides. "What did you mean by that?"

Hadrian’s lips twitch into a smirk, the flicker of amusement returning. But it’s not playful—it’s calculated.

"Why don’t you ask Harper?" He tilts his head toward her, his smirk widening. "She knows the answer better than anyone."

The shift in the air is immediate.

I whip around to face Harper, my pulse pounding in my ears. Her expression betrays her instantly—guilt, hesitation, something heavy weighing in her eyes.

"Harper..." My voice is steadier now, but firm. "What is he talking about?"

Harper’s fingers twitch at her sides, her body tense as if bracing for something. "You agreed to keep your mouth shut about that, Hadrian!" She snaps, but her voice lacks the bite it should have.

Hadrian snorts. "Y/N is gonna find out anyway. May as well tell them now."

"Enough!" My shout cuts through the rising tension, echoing across the battlefield.

Harper flinches at the force behind my voice. Hadrian just chuckles under his breath.

I step forward, gaze locked onto Harper’s with an intensity that makes her squirm. "What are you hiding from me, Harper?"

She hesitates. Just for a second. But it’s long enough.

"Well... you were only a baby when it happened..." Harper mutters, shifting uncomfortably.

I let out a sharp breath, impatience simmering under my skin. "Spit it out already."

Harper flinches, guilt thick in her eyes.

And then—

"You're adopted!"

The words cut through the air like a blade.

I barely register who spoke them until my gaze snaps toward Mevia, her voice ringing with satisfaction. She stands there, disheveled and out of breath, finally finished with whatever fight she’d been caught in.

Chapter Text

The world feels like it grinds to a halt. Mevia's words ring in my ears, echoing long after they've left her mouth. I stare at her, stunned, unable to form a single coherent thought.

"What...?" The word barely escapes me, fragile, uncertain.

Mevia grins, wild and unhinged, her eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. "Your real mother and father never wanted you! They abandoned you, left you with Harper, and ran off!"

The words hit like a physical blow, a sharp crack to the chest that sends my pulse into a frenzied rhythm. I swallow hard, my throat dry. Slowly, my gaze shifts to Harper.

"Harper... is that true?" My voice wavers, barely above a whisper.

Harper stiffens, her lips parting, but no words come out at first. Her eyes dart away, guilt flickering across her face like a shadow.

"No!... Well, I don't know why your mother left you..." She admits, her voice strained, pained. "She never told me why she had to leave you, but I know it was the hardest decision she ever made. She loved you."

'Loved me.' The words taste hollow.

"And my father?" My voice is weaker now, as if something inside me is beginning to crack.

Harper's expression darkens. Her hands clench at her sides. "She refused to tell me who your father was. It was almost like she was ashamed to say his name. All she told me was that she had to leave, and that I had to watch over you." She takes a shaky breath, her eyes misted over. "She promised she would return for you... but she never did."

Silence settles between us, thick and suffocating.

"I couldn't take care of a child, and Hadrian offered to raise you. I knew it was a bad idea, but I still let it happen. And now, looking back..." Harper's voice cracks. "I see that it was a horrible mistake."

Tears cling to the edges of her eyes, but I barely see them. I barely hear anything anymore.

My breath grows heavy. A hand instinctively clutches my chest as a tightness constricts my ribs.

All of it—everything—was for nothing?

"You're telling me... all the pain he caused me... was for nothing?!" My voice breaks as I scream, my emotions slamming into me all at once. My stomach twists violently, my heart pounding in my ears like a war drum. "He was never my real family?!"

Otto exhales, his face solemn, filled with quiet pity. "I'm afraid so."

The weight of it crashes down on me all at once. I stand there, paralyzed, unable to think, unable to move. Every part of me wants to scream, to run, to escape this reality that's suddenly suffocating me. But my body refuses to listen.

That's what Onyx meant. They knew. They knew the whole time.

I need answers.

"Y/N?" Jesse's voice is soft, hesitant. He steps toward me slowly, reaching out, trying to offer some sort of comfort.

"Don't touch me." The snarl leaves my throat before I can stop it. I slap his hand away, stepping back sharply.

Jesse's face falls, his hand hovering in the air for just a second before he lets it drop. I don't look at him. I can't.

Instead, my hand moves on instinct. My sword is in my grip before I even register drawing it, the sharp edge pressing against Hadrian's throat.

He doesn't flinch. He doesn't fight. He just smirks, a slow, lazy grin curling at the corners of his lips, even as a thin trickle of blood slides down his neck where the blade has pierced the skin. Everyone holds their breath. The air is thick with tension, waiting, watching.

"Go on then." Hadrian purrs, voice low, taunting. "Kill me. Prove to everyone what a monster you really are."

My grip tightens. The blade in my hands feels heavier, my fingers trembling against the hilt.

"Just tell me one thing." I murmur, my voice quieter now, steadier. "Why didn't you kill me that night?"

Hadrian raises an eyebrow, amused.

"You had the capability to." I continue. "After all, a ten-year-old couldn't have possibly outrun a fully grown adult."

Hadrian chuckles, the sound low and condescending. "I spared your life for one reason, and one reason only." He says, his voice calm, casual, as if he's discussing the weather. "You had the makings of a perfect soldier. Strong, durable, silent, obedient." 

His smirk widens. "Just the way I raised you to be. But those pathetic siblings of yours held you back. I thought if I killed them, it would set you on the right path... but it obviously backfired."

Something inside me shatters further. I take a slow, deep breath, forcing air into my lungs before I do something I'll regret.

Then, with deliberate control, I lower my sword. Hadrian watches me closely, his smirk never fading, even as I shove the weapon back into my inventory and turn on my heel. I walk away.

"How pathetic. You fought so hard for a family that wasn't even your own, and now you can't even finish the job." Hadrian scoffs, his tone dripping with mockery. "If I had known you'd be such a pain in the ass, I would've killed you instead of your sister."

I stop in my tracks. My body stiffens, my breath hitching.

"What?" The word escapes before I can stop it. My hands curl into tight fists.

Hadrian grins, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"You didn't kill her." I hiss, voice laced with fury. "The sickness did."

"Oh, is that what you think?" Hadrian's voice is almost delighted, his posture shifting, leaning slightly toward me. "My dear, there never was a sickness."

My blood turns to ice.

"Why would I waste my time studying something that already has a solution?" Hadrian tilts his head mockingly. "No... I wanted her dead. With a simple, but effective, poison. Made her ill. Weak. Bedridden. Mimicked the effects of wither sickness to an extreme."

The world around me begins to blur.

"I intended to end her life in her weakest moments." Hadrian continues, grinning. "But you did my job for me."

Silence. A deep, unbearable silence.

And then—

Something in me finally breaks. Strength fueled by rage courses through me.

The world is drowned in red. Everything blurs, shapes and colors blending into a haze of rage, but Hadrian remains sharp. His face, twisted in that smug, infuriating grin. His voice, echoing in my skull, replaying his words like a twisted melody. My body moves without thought, without hesitation—only purpose.

The weight of my sword is familiar, comforting. In one swift motion, I seize a fistful of Hadrian's hair, yanking his head back with enough force to make him choke. His breath stutters, his throat bared to me, vulnerable, exposed.

The blade sings as it slices through flesh.

The resistance lasts only a second before his body crumples beneath me. His head lingers in my grip, eyes frozen in shock, mouth still parted as if trying to form one last retort. A guttural scream tears from my throat, raw and feral, as I hurl it across the field.

The impact is sickening.

Hadrian's head collides with the stone wall, bursting apart in a gruesome spray of crimson. Blood streaks the surface, dripping in thick, sluggish trails. His body—headless, twitching—bleeds into the earth, staining the grass in deep, violent red. The smell of iron saturates the air, thick and suffocating.

But I don't stop. I raise my sword again.

The blade sinks into flesh. Then again. Again.

Each strike is harder than the last, more brutal, more punishing. The wet, sickening sound of metal tearing through muscle and bone fills my ears, drowning out everything else. The ground beneath me is soaked, warm, sticky.

And then—nothing.

A puff of white smoke swirls into the air where his body once lay, dissipating into nothingness. The only proof that he was ever here is the blood splattered across my hands, my arms, my face.

I suck in a breath, but it doesn't feel like air—it's fire, burning my lungs, fueling something deeper inside me. A low, animalistic growl rumbles from my chest.

I stare at my hands. My fingers tremble, slick with blood, fingers curling and uncurling as if they don't belong to me. I can still feel the warmth of it, can still see the way his eyes had dulled as life left them.

"Y/N..." Jesse's voice barely reaches me, distant, uncertain.

I snap my head toward him, the movement sharp, unnatural. "What?" I hiss.

My own voice doesn't sound like mine anymore, it sounds like a complete stranger speaking.

Jesse's POV:

I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't look away.

Y/N stands motionless, drenched in blood, their fingers twitching at their sides. Thick crimson drips from their hands, trailing down their arms in sluggish streaks before pooling onto the grass. Their breathing is uneven, their chest rising and falling in ragged, shallow gasps. But they don't look winded. If anything, they look completely still, as if something inside them has settled into place.

I've never seen them like this before. Not this furious. Not this untethered. For the first time since I've known them, I feel something cold curl deep in my chest.

Fear.

It grips me, heavy and suffocating, making every muscle in my body scream at me to step back. But I don't. I can't. Because something is wrong.

Their hands are still shaking, but it's not from exhaustion. Their fingers curl and uncurl as if they don't even recognize their own body anymore. But it's their eyes that send the real shudder down my spine.

The familiar color is gone. The white of their eyes has been consumed by a deep, endless black as if the very light has been swallowed whole. Their pupils are nothing more than a single glowing white dot in each eye, flickering like a distant star in the void. Dark veins pulse beneath their skin, creeping down their face and throat in inky tendrils.

It's unnatural. Where did this come from? Where did they get this power?

I swallow hard, my mind racing through every possibility. No one cuts through flesh and bone that effortlessly. No one moves with that kind of brutal precision.

And yet, I just watched them do it.

The scene replays in my head—Hadrian's head soaring through the air, crashing into the wall with a sickening splatter. The way Y/N kept going, their blade sinking into Hadrian's flesh over and over, long past the point of necessity.

This isn't them. This can't be them.

"Y/N..." My voice is barely above a whisper, unsteady in a way I'm not used to. I take a step forward, but my body tenses, every instinct screaming at me to stay still.

They snap their head toward me so fast that my breath catches in my throat. 

"What?" The word is sharp and guttural, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. Their voice doesn't sound like theirs anymore.

I don't know if I should step closer or turn and run.

Y/N's POV:

"Your eyes... they're glowing..." Jesse's voice is barely above a whisper, but the weight behind it is undeniable. His face is pale, his wide-eyed stare locked onto mine. The others nod stiffly when I look at them for confirmation, their expressions unreadable—somewhere between awe and concern.

This must be what Onyx meant. Unlocking my powers.

The energy coursing through me is unlike anything I've ever felt before. It crackles beneath my skin like lightning, surging through every inch of my body, coiling in my fingertips, burning and relentless. It doesn't just exist—it demands.

I don't know if I like it. Onyx's warning echoes in my mind. If I don't get myself under control, I'll hurt someone I care about.

I shut my eyes, forcing deep, steady breaths, trying to will the storm inside me to subside. Inhale. Exhale. The power still lingers, thrumming like a second heartbeat. It refuses to fade, like a parasite clinging to its host to continue leeching off of their very life force.

Frustration builds, coiling tightly in my chest like a spring wound too tight. My breathing quickens. I try again, harder this time, pushing against the force inside me like I'm wrestling a tidal wave. Nothing.

"Dammit!" The scream tears from my throat before I even register it. 

My fingers clutch my sword, and before I can stop myself, I hurl it with every ounce of strength I have. The weapon spins through the air before slamming into an obsidian block with a deafening clang, embedding itself deep into the dark stone. The impact rings out, sharp and final.

But the feeling doesn't leave. The storm still rages inside me, clawing at my ribs, demanding release. My muscles twitch and my vision blurs at the edges. I reach for something else, anything else to throw—

And then arms wrap around me. Strong. Steady. Unyielding. 

Jesse.

"Let go, you damn moron! I could hurt you!" I struggle, pressing my palms flat against his chest, pushing against him with all my strength. He doesn't budge. His grip is iron—firm but not suffocating, gentle but unwavering.

"If you could hurt me, you would've done it already." His voice is low, calm, steady as a rock against the hurricane inside me.

The words sink in, threading through the chaos in my head. His warmth, his presence, his belief in me—it presses against the darkness, against the power I can't control.

Slowly, the energy shifts. The fire dulls. The crackling static inside my veins begins to quiet. I don't realize how exhausted I am until my body gives out.

The tension drains from my muscles, and I slump forward, my forehead resting against Jesse's shoulder. My arms wrap around his neck, more for support than anything else, as my body finally surrenders to the weight of it all.

Jesse doesn't hesitate. His hand moves gently against my back, slow, comforting circles, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's okay... it's over." 

The words unravel something deep inside me, something I didn't even realize I was holding onto.

The dam breaks. Tears spill down my face before I can stop them. I clutch onto him tighter as a sob wracks through my chest, then another, and another. Years of pain, of anger, of bottled-up emotions come crashing down all at once.

Jesse doesn't pull away. He doesn't try to hush me, doesn't tell me to calm down.

He just holds me. Seconds stretch into minutes, but I don't care.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, I let myself feel.

Finally, the last tear falls. A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I lift my head, wiping away the remnants of my breakdown with the back of my hand. My body feels lighter, as if a weight I hadn’t even realized I was carrying has been lifted.

"Thank you... I needed that." My voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Jesse releases me, his hands lingering for just a second longer before he steps back. He doesn’t say much, just nods and pats my shoulder, the silent reassurance settling into place.

A throat clears behind us, shattering the moment.

"You have fairly defeated Mevia and Hadrian." Otto announces, adjusting his glasses. "Therefore, it is only fair that you decide their punishment. With The Atlas, you can send them anywhere."

Jesse tilts his head, considering the offer. Then, a slow smirk creeps onto his face.

"Hmm, y'know... there was this game Olivia and I used to play back at our treehouse. We called it ‘Which Would You Rather Fight?’"

Olivia’s grin mirrors his instantly.

Some time later...

Boots clatter against quartz as we descend the stairs leading back to the portal hallway. The familiar hum of the portals fills the air, their swirling light casting long shadows across the stone floor. One by one, the freed players and miners step through, disappearing into their own worlds.

Jesse is caught up in retelling our latest adventure, his voice full of energy as he gestures wildly. Axel and Olivia listen with wide eyes, exchanging looks of disbelief.

"Man, you guys have had some crazy adventures." Axel huffs, shaking his head. "So many people trying to kill you."

Jesse laughs, but the moment of levity is brief. Around us, players continue stepping through the portals, heading home at last.

All except one. Em lingers near the edge of the hallway, her arms crossed tightly, watching the others leave with something unreadable in her expression.

"Is that everyone?" Harper asks, scanning the thinning crowd.

"Everyone that wants to leave." Otto replies. "Those who still wish to play the games are welcome to stay. I can’t believe how many people actually want to keep playing. Thanks to you two, Jesse and Y/N."

He nods toward us, his gratitude evident.

"Yeah, well, I’m sure we can reform the games." I say, offering a small smile. "Make them actually fun. Keep it that way."

Jesse turns to me, his brows furrowing slightly. "Wait, what?" His confusion is obvious.

I take a deep breath and place a hand on his shoulder. "Jesse... I'm not going back to Beacontown with you."

Silence falls over the group. Jesse's face drops, the color draining from his expression. "What? Why?"

The reaction is immediate.

"What the hell, Y/N?" Petra snaps, her voice rising with disbelief.

Axel’s jaw hangs open, struggling to form words. Olivia’s eyes widen, darting between me and Jesse, waiting for some kind of explanation.

"Y/N, are you serious?" Lukas’s voice is barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud makes it more real.

Ivor doesn’t say a word, but the look on his face is something I haven’t seen before. His usual composed demeanor is gone, replaced by something almost painful. A deep, quiet loss, like he’s watching something he never wanted to lose slip through his fingers.

Jesse takes a slow step forward, his expression shattered. "Y/N, after everything we’ve been through, that’s it? You're just gonna leave?"

The sheer devastation in his voice nearly breaks me.

I force myself to meet his gaze. "Guys, guys, let me rephrase that." My voice is steady, but my throat tightens. "I'm staying here with Otto to help reform the games. Once we've set things right, I’m going to search for my real family—figure out who I really am. I have too many questions, and I know the answers are out there somewhere. I just need to find them."

My eyes move across the group, searching their faces, silently begging them to understand. "I'll keep in touch. I promise. I might even drop by for a visit sometime."

Jesse still looks hurt, but the sharpness in his expression dulls slightly.

"And once I get the answers I’m looking for... I'll come back to Beacontown. I promise." I continue, my voice almost cracking at that last part.

Jesse looks down for a long moment, exhaling sharply before looking back up at me.

"So... that's it? This is goodbye, then?" Lukas steps forward hesitantly, as if he's still waiting for me to take it back.

I shake my head, offering him a small smile. "No. It’s not goodbye. It’s see you later, alligator."

Jesse snorts, rolling his eyes. "I'm gonna hold you to that promise about visiting us."

I grin and playfully ruffle his hair. "Yeah, yeah."

Lukas exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’m just bummed my journal never showed up. I had some really good stuff in there."

A realization clicks in my head.

"Oh. About that..." I reach behind my back and pull out a familiar leather-bound book, holding it up for him to see. The second he lays eyes on it, his entire face lights up. "How did you—"

"I have my ways." I interrupt with a smirk. "You’d be amazed how far a little flattery gets you."

I'm not about to tell him I conjured it. I've read his journal. This is an exact replica. He'll never know the difference.

Lukas hesitates, staring at the book like it’s the most valuable thing in the world before taking it with both hands. Relief washes over him as he cradles it carefully.

"Thank you." He breathes, shaking his head in disbelief. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

I shrug. "Hey, what are friends for?"

We exchange smiles, the warmth of the moment settling in.

"Well, Em, how about you? You said you wanted to go home, right?" Jesse asks, shifting his attention to the former gladiator.

Em crosses her arms, hesitating. "Yes... I just can't decide if it's what I want. You get to leave and go on more adventures. Do I really wanna go back to farming?" She scoffs, rolling her eyes, but there’s something in her tone—uncertainty, like she’s trying to convince herself more than us.

"Well, Otto and I could always use a hand reforming the games." I offer, glancing between the two. "Although you've been stuck in them for who knows how long, just something for you to consider."

Em hums, deep in thought, her gaze flickering between me and Otto.

"Or if you don't wanna stay, you can come with us." Jesse adds.

Em’s head snaps up so fast I’m almost afraid she might hurt herself.

"Really?!" She practically bounces in place, the excitement radiating off her in waves.

"Yeah." Jesse nods with a grin. "We could always use another awesome person, and uh... you're pretty awesome."

Em beams, her grin stretching ear to ear. "Jesse! That's wonderful! Thank you so much!" She throws her arms in the air dramatically, almost knocking into Olivia, who dodges her at the last second with a startled laugh.

I chuckle at Em’s enthusiasm, watching her bounce like a kid who's just been told they get unlimited cake. It’s nice, seeing her like this. Free.

"So... how do we get home now?" Lukas asks, glancing between the glowing portals.

"Well..." Otto steps forward, adjusting his glasses. "The Atlas belongs to Jesse now. A deal's a deal... and all that." He pulls the blue and yellow book from his inventory and hands it over.

"Sweet." Jesse says, flipping it open. "Uh... how does it work?"

"Now you just say where you wanna go, and The Atlas will show you the way." Otto explains. "Why don't you go ahead and open it?"

The second Jesse does, a bright glow pulses from the pages, illuminating his face in golden light. The air crackles with energy, and suddenly, a shimmering trail of unreadable lettering lifts off the pages, swirling like enchanted ink before drifting toward an oak-framed portal. The symbols pulse for a moment before vanishing into the portal’s frame, the swirling energy inside shifting colors.

"Okay, book." Jesse murmurs. "Take us home."

The portal’s glow intensifies, a golden shimmer coating the edges of the frame. That must be it. The way back.

The group doesn't hesitate. One by one, they take off running, relief and excitement painted across their faces. I stay behind, my feet rooted in place as I watch them go. My heart clenches.

It's only temporary. I know that.

But that doesn't stop the ache in my chest as they disappear one by one.

Jesse lingers at the edge of the portal, his eyes meeting mine. There's something behind them—hesitation, maybe even a little sadness. He lifts a hand in a wave, his usual grin faltering at the edges.

I wave back, watching as Jesse disappears into the swirling light of the portal. The glow swallows him whole, and then—he's gone.

The instant he vanishes, my smile fades. My hand drops limply to my side, the warmth of the moment dissolving into a quiet ache. The hallway feels bigger now, emptier, like all the life and energy left with them.

"You really care about him, don’t you?" Otto’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I glance at him, finding his gaze fixed on me, knowing and observant.

"Of course I do." I reply with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. "We're friends."

Otto exhales, shaking his head like he’s amused by how blind I’m trying to be. "Y/N... I'm old, not blind." He raises an eyebrow, giving me a pointed look.

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I turn away instead, staring at the now-empty portal, its swirling light slowly fading back to a dull glow.

Watching him leave doesn’t hurt any less.

Even though I know I’ll see him again, even though I know this isn’t the end, there’s a hollow space in my chest that wasn’t there before.

I tell myself this is the right choice. I tell myself I need to do this, to figure out where I came from, to find the answers that have eluded me my whole life.

But deep down, I already know the truth.

No matter where my search takes me, I know where the family that truly matters will always be.

A few months later...

The games have been fully reformed—no more death, no more prisoners, no more forced combat. The obsidian walls that once held players captive have been torn down, and the portals to the mines have been destroyed. Now, people come to the games willingly, eager for the challenge rather than dreading the inevitable.

Harper has been helping too, splitting her time between here and the world she once abandoned to PAMA. With her expertise, she was able to repair much of the damage the AI had inflicted, restoring what was lost. Together, we’ve turned these once-corrupted games back into what they were meant to be.

And yet... despite the peace, my mind refuses to settle.

I still don’t have the answers I need. Who are my real parents? Why did my mother leave if she planned to come back? What kept her away?

No matter how many times I turn the questions over in my head, they never lead to anything but more uncertainty. And Onyx—who I thought would have the answers—has been completely absent. Not in my dreams, not in reality, not even as a whisper in my mind. It’s like they’ve disappeared entirely, leaving me to figure this out on my own.

But I refuse to be kept in the dark any longer.

Today is the day I get answers.

That’s why I asked Harper and Otto to meet me. I see them approaching now, their faces unreadable as they walk through the grand entrance of the arena. The once-oppressive space feels different now—less like a prison and more like a monument to everything we’ve changed.

Harper stops in front of me, her expression heavy. "Y/N, before you say anything... I know what this is about."

She looks me in the eyes, and I know she already has an answer waiting. "It's about your parents, isn't it?"

I nod.

Otto exhales slowly, sharing a look with Harper, something unspoken passing between them. They've had this conversation before, I can tell.

"There's no easy way to explain this." Otto begins, his voice measured. "But have you ever heard of the legend of the Admin?"

A short, humorless laugh escapes me. "Of course I have. Hadrian used to tell me the story every night, like it was some sort of bedtime fairytale. How the Admin created the world, placed every block with his own hands, ruled over everything. But it's just a myth, it can't possibly be real." I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, what does this have to do with my parents?"

Harper and Otto exchange another glance.

"Because the Admin is not a myth." Otto says. "He was real. In fact, there wasn’t just one Admin—there were three."

I freeze.

Otto continues, his tone grave. "The legend doesn't speak of the other two because one of them became too powerful. The remaining Admins fought against him, but they failed. And, Y/N... one of those Admins—one of the ones who tried to stop him—was your mother."

I stare at him, waiting for the joke. But he isn’t joking.

"I'm sorry, what?!" My voice spikes, a mixture of disbelief and anger bubbling up all at once. "You're telling me that not only does an all-powerful world-creating god exist, but that there were three of them? And one of them was my mother?!"

Neither Otto nor Harper flinch at my outburst. They just nod, calm as ever, as if my entire life hasn’t just been turned upside down.

My breathing grows uneven, my mind spinning so fast I have to grip my own arms to keep myself steady. The world feels like it’s tilting beneath my feet, shifting into something unfamiliar.

Harper steps forward, her voice softer now, more careful. "We understand this is a lot to take in, but you needed to know. Your mother's name was Xara. She was a formidable woman, strong-willed and fierce. She loved you, Y/N. But she had to keep you safe from Romeo, the third Admin."

"Romeo?" I repeat, the name a foreign taste on my tongue.

"Xara and Fred—the second Admin—had a plan to stop him." Harper continues. "They were going to fight him, to end his rule. Xara told me she would return when Romeo was defeated, but... she never came back." Harper swallows, looking down. "I assumed the worst. I wanted to believe she would return, but when she didn't... I had to make a choice. I couldn’t raise a child on my own, not when I had my own mistakes to fix. Hadrian and his wife wanted a child of their own, so I gave you to them."

"And you thought that was a good idea?" My voice shakes, hands balling into fists.

Harper’s expression twists with regret. "I see now that it was a horrible mistake."

I pace, my head pounding with all this new information. "Why did no one tell me?" I demand, my voice sharp.

Otto pinches the bridge of his nose. "All four of us—Hadrian, Mevia, Harper, and myself—vowed to keep it a secret until we felt you were ready to learn the truth. You still weren’t... but Mevia exposed the truth sooner than agreed."

I let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through my hair. "Great. So everyone knew except me."

A long silence stretches between us.

Then, I look down at my hands—the same hands that have conjured weapons out of thin air, that have shattered obsidian with nothing but my will.

"If my mother was an Admin... does that mean I inherited her powers?" I ask, my voice quiet, almost afraid of the answer.

Otto nods. "Yes. You have your mother's abilities. That is why you're capable of things others aren’t. But there’s something else."

I glance up at him, wary.

Harper hesitates, as if weighing whether or not she should say what she’s about to. "Xara refused to speak your father's name." She finally admits. "She was ashamed. The only thing she ever told me about him was that he was nothing more than a power-hungry slimeball."

I don’t respond.

My mind reels with the weight of everything I’ve just learned. My mother was essentially a god. I inherited her abilities. I was hidden away to be protected from someone named Romeo.

And my father... whoever he is... is someone Xara couldn’t even bring herself to name.

I don’t know who he is. And something tells me I don’t want to.

Chapter Text

5 years later...

It has been five years since I last saw Jesse and the Order. Five years since I left to hunt down the third Admin—Romeo.

And today marks the fifth year of my search.

For half a decade, I have been tracking that bastard, determined to stop him before he can hurt anyone else. But despite my efforts, despite chasing him through countless worlds, it seems I have failed. My search has led me here—to the Order of the Stone's home world.

I stand just outside the swirling portal, the deep blue and purple energy pulsing like a heartbeat. The light from the frame casts an eerie glow over my armor, making the edges of my shadow waver against the ground. I take a slow, deep breath, willing my nerves to steady. I don’t know what I’ll find on the other side, but I pray to whatever force is listening that I haven’t come too late. If Romeo has already reached Jesse and the others…

I clench my fists. I can't let that happen. A soft huff pulls me from my thoughts.

Cloud, the white mare beside me, nudges her velvety nose against my cheek. She's grown impatient, sensing my hesitation. I reach up and stroke her muzzle, my fingers trailing through her soft coat.

"Yeah, I know." I murmur. "We're going."

Winslow had stayed behind with Otto. As much as I would have loved to bring him along, hunting down an all-powerful Admin wasn’t exactly cat-friendly work. In his place, Otto had gifted me his prized horse, Cloud—a fitting name for her snow-white coat.

Cloud stomps her hoof, tail flicking as if to say, then stop stalling already.

With one last glance at the swirling portal, I grab Cloud’s reins and step forward. The familiar pull of interdimensional travel washes over me, and before I can even process it, the world shifts.

I step out of the portal, Cloud right behind me, and the sight before me sends a rush of nostalgia through my veins. The jungle temple stands tall in the distance, its moss-covered stone basking in the glow of the setting sun. It looks just as it did when I first arrived here all those years ago, when the Order’s adventures through the portal network had truly begun.

A part of me exhales in relief. It feels... good to be back.

I guide Cloud forward, my boots crunching against the jungle floor. And to think—if Ivor hadn’t tipped us off about this place, my life would have been entirely different. I never would have reunited with my Aunt Harper. Never would have faced the truth about Hadrian—not just the monster who raised me, but the monster who wasn’t even my real father. I never would have discovered who I truly am.

All of it... all of it started here.

Cloud flicks her ears, unimpressed with the scenery.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I mutter, patting her side. "It’s just a bunch of mossy stone to you."

We push forward, making our way to the temple's lower level. But as soon as I step onto the worn stone floor, realization dawns on me.

Night has fallen. And the jungle... is alive.

The groans of zombies echo through the dense foliage. The sharp clatter of bones tells me skeletons are nearby, already notching their arrows. I catch the hiss of a creeper somewhere to my right, and above me, the scratching of spiders along the canopy sends a chill down my spine.

I curse under my breath. I can't take them all on. Not alone. Cloud's ears pin back, sensing the danger.

"Cloud, you ready for a run?" I whisper, gripping her reins tightly.

She snorts in response, her muscles already coiling in anticipation.

I waste no time. Swinging into the saddle, I position myself and grab hold of the reins. "Alright. Ready? One... two... three!"

Cloud bolts forward.

The jungle blurs around us as we tear through the underbrush. The wind howls past my ears, whipping my hair against my face. Moonlight filters through the thick canopy, casting eerie shadows across the path, but Cloud never falters.

Zombies groan in frustration as we speed past, their rotting hands clawing at empty air. Skeletons take aim, their bows creaking—twang! Arrows fly past us, embedding themselves into tree trunks just inches from my head. A creeper lunges from the foliage, its telltale hiss sending a bolt of panic through my chest.

"Go, go, go!" I urge, digging my heels in.

Cloud pushes harder, her hooves barely touching the ground as she navigates the uneven terrain. Vines whip past, the scent of damp earth filling my nose. The chorus of monsters grows distant behind us, their pursuit relentless but failing.

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours before Cloud finally slows, her frenzied gallop easing into a tired trot. Her sides heave with exhaustion, her breath coming in heavy pants. I reach down and stroke her damp neck, murmuring a soft thanks.

The jungle thins around us, and ahead, the trees give way to an open grassy plain. The horizon is bathed in the warm hues of dawn, the sun beginning to rise above the hills.

We made it. For now, at least.

The outline of a structure emerges in the distance, barely visible through the hazy morning light. As I draw closer, the vague silhouette sharpens into something far grander than I expected—not just a house, but a full-fledged manor.

The place is well-kept, its tall frame standing against the endless stretch of open plains. Whoever lives here must be doing well for themselves. Hopefully, they're friendly. Cloud could use a place to rest, and I could use a few moments to gather my thoughts.

Clicking my tongue, I give the reins a slight tug, urging her forward. She obeys without hesitation, her hooves crunching against the dewy grass as we approach.

As we near the manor, I take in more details. A chestnut brown horse stands off to the side, lazily grazing, its sleek coat shimmering faintly in the soft morning sun. The horse lifts its head at our approach, ears flicking in our direction, but it doesn’t bolt or show any signs of distress.

That's a good sign.

Sliding off Cloud's back, I land softly on the ground and stretch out my stiff limbs. The porch creaks under my boots as I step onto it, stopping before the heavy wooden door. With a sharp knock, I wait, hearing the faint sounds of movement inside.

Someone grumbles from within, clearly not thrilled about being disturbed this early. Heavy footsteps approach, and the door swings open.

A familiar face, half-awake and tousle-haired, blinks at me sleepily.

"Lukas?!" The words escape me before I can even process what I'm seeing.

His tired expression vanishes in an instant, replaced by a wide-eyed stare. "I'm sorry, do I kn—wait... Y/N?!"

A grin spreads across my face just as Lukas fully snaps out of his groggy state. Without hesitation, he pulls me into a tight hug, arms wrapping firmly around me. The warmth of the embrace nearly knocks the air out of my lungs.

"It’s so good to see you again!" Lukas cheers, his fingers pressing into my spine.

I return the hug, clinging to the familiar presence of an old friend. "It's good to see you too! I missed you so much!"

For the first time in years, I forget about the mission weighing on my shoulders. For a fleeting moment, it’s just me and Lukas, like no time has passed at all.

"How long has it been? Four... five years?" Lukas pulls back, still grinning, though there's a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Come in, we have so much to talk about!"

I hesitate for a second, glancing back at Cloud. "What about my horse? She’s exhausted."

Lukas follows my gaze, nodding in understanding. "She’ll be fine out here. There’s plenty of space for her to rest." He gestures toward the fenced area beside the manor. "She can hang out with mine."

I give Cloud a final pat before stepping inside.

The interior of the manor is just as impressive as the outside. The walls are lined with carefully placed bookshelves, trophies, and banners—each detail meticulously arranged. A warm glow fills the space from the morning sun filtering through the large windows, casting long shadows across the wooden floors.

"Wow... you built this place?" I whistle, taking in my surroundings.

Lukas grins, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah... I did."

"Not bad." I remark, running a hand along the smooth wood of the railing.

"So, what have you been up to?" Lukas asks, his tone shifting slightly. "Did you find what you were looking for?" There’s hope in his voice, like he’s been waiting years to hear this answer.

Right. My mission.

I shift uncomfortably, the weight of it settling back onto my shoulders. "Yeah, I guess I did. I found some answers." I admit, carefully choosing my words. "But the rest... some questions aren’t meant to be answered."

Lukas watches me for a long moment, picking up on the hesitation in my voice, but he doesn’t push.

"Yeah, that’s true." He says finally. "Regardless, I’m just glad you’re back! It’s so nice to see you again." His expression brightens. "You are staying this time, right?"

I hesitate. If I can catch Romeo before he moves to another world, I'll be able to stay.

"Yeah, I am." I force a grin, and Lukas beams, seemingly satisfied with my answer.

"Glad to hear it! Jesse and the others are gonna be so happy to see you!"

My smile falters. Jesse. The others.

What am I even going to tell them? 'Hey, I know I disappeared for five years searching for answers, but now I’m back and hunting down an all-powerful being who may or may not be targeting Beacontown!'

Yeah, that will go over well.

No. They can’t know. Especially not Jesse. He’d never let me do this alone. He’d insist on coming with me, no matter how dangerous it is. And the last thing I want is to drag them into something that could get them hurt.

"Uh, hello? Earth to Y/N!" Lukas waves a hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?" I yelp, blinking rapidly.

A sly grin creeps across his lips. "You were fantasizing about your boyfriend, weren't you?"

"What? No! Besides, Jesse is not my boyfriend!" I blurt out, trying—and failing—to keep the heat from rising to my face.

Lukas leans back against the armrest of his chair, arms crossed, an insufferable smirk playing at his lips. "Mhm, and I guess friends just casually kiss each other on the lips?" He arches an eyebrow, watching my reaction with open amusement.

The memory of the Old Builders’ games comes rushing back, unbidden. The heat, the adrenaline, the tension that had been thrumming between us for so long—then the way it all exploded in that single moment.

My face burns, and Lukas grins in triumph.

"Look, that was a one-time thing! It was just—" I gesture vaguely, struggling to find the words. "In the heat of the moment, I swear!"

"Right." Lukas scoffs, clearly unconvinced.

I groan, dragging my hands down my face. "Can we just drop the subject, please?"

He chuckles and reaches out to pat my head, ruffling my hair like I'm some kid. "Alright, alright, I'll give you a break."

I swat his hand away with an exaggerated eye roll, but I can't help the small grin tugging at the corner of my lips.

Lukas and I catch up for what feels like hours, reminiscing about old times, swapping stories of everything that’s happened while I was away.

Apparently, after the others got back to the Order Hall, Ivor—being the absolute wildcard he is—stole The Atlas and the enchanted flint and steel. He vanished on some wild goose chase after Harper, and no one’s heard from him since.

Axel has been spending most of his time helping Magnus run Boom Town, keeping the chaos at a somewhat manageable level. Olivia, on the other hand, has been organizing a massive parade in Ellegaard’s honor over in Redstonia. She even moved there permanently.

Despite their busy lives, Olivia and Axel still drop by the Order Hall for visits. Petra, as expected, remains the ever-reliable go-getter, taking on risky jobs whenever someone needs something rare—or, as Lukas puts it: 'when someone is crazy enough to think they can pay her in favors instead of emeralds.'

And Jesse...

Lukas tells me Jesse has been running Beacontown smoothly, living up to his title as the 'hero in residence.' He even took on an assistant, someone eager but jittery, a huge fan of the Order. From what Lukas describes, the kid is a little overenthusiastic—likely the type who still gets starstruck seeing Jesse walk by.

Then there are some unexpected new residents. Nell from the Old Builders' games, Stacyplays, and Stampycat from the White Pumpkin mansion have all settled in Beacontown. I raise an eyebrow at that. I never would’ve pegged them as the type to stay in one place, but I guess everyone needs a fresh start.

Finally, Lukas fills me in on his own life. He built this house himself—something he takes clear pride in—and has spent the last few years working on a book about all of the Order’s adventures. He’s been using notes from his old journal, and once he gets more details from Ivor, Harper, and me, he plans to publish it.

I tell him about what I’ve been up to too—just... not all of it.

I don’t mention the Admin hunting. I don’t tell him about the otherworldly abilities I share with my mother. Instead, I tell him I’ve been training, which isn’t exactly a lie. I have been training, just not in the way Lukas probably thinks.

I’ve spent years honing my powers, pushing them further, testing their limits—and I still haven't found them. No matter what I throw at myself, no matter how hard I push, the power never seems to run out. I've done things I never thought were possible, bending the world around me with nothing but sheer will.

And yet, I still don't know what that truly means. Lukas watches me carefully as I speak, and for a moment, I wonder if he can sense the things I'm leaving out. But if he can, he doesn’t press.

The sun hangs high in the sky, casting sharp beams of light across the open plains. The midday heat settles over the landscape, thick and still, disturbed only by the occasional rustling of the wind through the tall grass.

I tighten the saddle on Cloud, ensuring everything is secure before gripping the reins. The weight in my chest hasn’t lessened, but I push the feeling aside.

"It's sad you have to leave so soon." Lukas sighs, leaning against the side of the manor. His arms are crossed, his lips pulled into a reluctant frown.

I smirk, patting Cloud's side reassuringly. "I'm just going to Beacontown, Lukas. You're not the only one I came to see." I remind him. "Besides, now that I’m back, we’ll see each other a lot more often."

Lukas exhales, nodding slightly. Dewey, his cat, winds around my legs before hopping onto the porch railing, watching me with lazy curiosity. I give his ears a quick scratch, earning a satisfied purr.

Just as I swing myself onto Cloud’s back, the ground shudders beneath us. A low, distant rumble rolls through the earth, sending a ripple of unease up my spine.

Dewey lets out a startled yelp and bolts behind Lukas, his fur bristling. Cloud huffs, shifting uneasily beneath me, her ears flicking back in distress.

"What the hell was that?" I ask, scanning the area as my grip tightens on the reins.

Lukas furrows his brow. "I don’t know... Earthquake?" He shrugs, though his uncertainty is clear.

A second tremor shakes the ground, stronger this time. The dirt vibrates beneath Cloud’s hooves, the manor’s wooden beams creaking under the sudden stress. Then, a force washes over me, one I recognize all too well. It coils around me like a vice, thick, suffocating, and unmistakable.

That is not an earthquake.

Cloud lets out a sharp, uneasy snort, pawing at the ground as if sensing the shift in the air. My pulse pounds against my ribs, the raw pressure crackling in the atmosphere sending every instinct in my body into high alert.

Another violent tremor rolls through the land, strong enough to make Lukas stumble. My fingers tighten around the reins as the air thickens with a suffocating energy. The trees ahead of us ripple and distort, bending unnaturally as something massive moves through them.

And then, I see it.

A towering figure, easily three times the size of the surrounding trees, steps into view. Its entire form is constructed from prismarine, glowing veins of green light pulsing through its stone-like body in rhythmic waves. Every step it takes sends deep, thunderous vibrations into the earth, its sheer weight reshaping the landscape beneath its feet.

Its eyes, twin emerald beacons, scan the horizon with an unnatural stillness.

Cloud rears slightly, whinnying in alarm. I grip the reins, steadying her as dread grips my stomach like a vice. Lukas stares, his face pale, eyes wide with disbelief. His lips part, but no words come out.

The giant doesn’t acknowledge us. It moves with chilling purpose, its gaze locked on something in the distance. The ground folds beneath its steps, the terrain reshaping itself in response to its presence.

Then, the realization hits me like a punch to the gut. It's heading straight for Beacontown. My stomach drops.

Jesse, what have you gotten yourself into now?

Chapter Text

Lukas and I watch in silent horror as the prismarine colossus stomps toward Beacontown, each step sending violent tremors through the ground. The sheer size of the thing is staggering, its massive form blotting out the sky as it moves with terrifying purpose.

"What is that thing?!" Lukas breathes, his voice tight with fear. He's frozen in place, his grip white-knuckled around his reins.

I hesitate, the lie slipping out before I can stop it. "I don't know, but I'm willing to bet Jesse is responsible for this."

The truth is, I do know what that thing is. It's Romeo. But something about this feels off. If that colossus is Romeo, were Xara and Fred made out of prismarine too? If so, then how would it have been biologically possible for Xara to have a child? My stomach twists with unease. Something isn't adding up, and I intend to find out what.

I click my tongue, and Cloud starts trotting forward, her ears flicking back as she senses my tension.

"Where are you going?" Lukas calls, his concern snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Look, that thing is headed straight for Beacontown. And I doubt it's coming for a friendly chat. Are you coming or not?" I ask, gesturing toward the giant.

Lukas snaps out of his daze, inhaling sharply before mounting his horse. "You're right. Let's go."

We take off, tailing the colossus from a safe distance. I tell Lukas it's to avoid being noticed, but the real reason runs deeper. If I can sense Romeo's power, then there's a good chance he can sense mine too. If that's the case, keeping a low profile is our best option for now.

Even when the giant disappears from view, the landscape still trembles with its every step. The sound of trees snapping and stone crumbling underfoot echoes through the air like distant thunder.

Then, a sharp boom rings out ahead of us, followed by a wave of terrified screams.

Lukas and I exchange a look, no words needed. Without hesitation, we kick our horses into a gallop. The wind howls past us, hoofbeats pounding against the dirt in a desperate sprint toward Beacontown.

And then, everything shifts.

A strange whirring sound fills the air, unnatural and wrong. The sun, once high in the sky, sinks beneath the horizon in an instant. Darkness engulfs the world as the moon rises at an unnatural speed, casting eerie silver light over the land.

We both pull our horses to a sudden stop, staring in shock.

"Uh... did it just..." Lukas trails off, his eyes locked on the sky in horror.

"Go from midday to night in five seconds?" I finish, my pulse hammering. "Yeah. Come on! We have to get to Beacontown before there's nothing left to get to!"

Cloud whinnies as I dig my heels in, and she surges forward with renewed urgency. Lukas follows close behind, both of us tearing across the landscape as fast as our horses will carry us.

By the time we reach Beacontown, the damage is already catastrophic. A massive hole has been blown through the outer gates, jagged and crumbling at the edges. Beyond it, chaos reigns.

Zombies and skeletons flood through the opening, their groans and rattling bones blending with the screams of frightened townspeople. Fires flicker, casting frantic shadows along the cobblestone streets.

And then, I see him.

Jesse.

Dangling helplessly in the massive hand of the prismarine colossus, his legs kicking as he struggles against the giant's grip. The colossus grins, its massive stone mouth stretching unnaturally as it lifts Jesse higher—toward its open maw.

It's going to eat him?!

"Hey, rock face! Eat this!" Lukas shouts beside me, drawing his bow.

In one fluid motion, he nocks an arrow and lets it fly. It whistles through the air, striking the colossus dead in one of its glowing green eyes. The giant recoils with a deafening roar, its grip loosening just enough for Jesse to slip free.

He barely manages to catch hold of the colossus's arm, dangling precariously above the ground. My stomach clenches. He's going to fall.

Without thinking, I kick Cloud forward, pushing her to full speed. She snorts, understanding what I need from her, and sprints beneath the colossus's arm just as Jesse lets go.

Jesse lands hard, his weight nearly knocking me forward in the saddle. Cloud grunts under the sudden impact but holds steady.

"Y/N! Lukas!" Jesse breathes, his arms wrapping around my waist as he steadies himself.

"Good to see you too." I reply, gripping the reins tightly as Cloud slows her pace.

"JESSE!" The colossus bellows, its voice shaking the very air around us.

Lukas reins in beside us, looking over his shoulder. "What is that thing?!"

"Quick version?" Jesse pants, still catching his breath. "The Admin! He, like, built the world or something!"

My heart sinks at his words. He knows about the Admin. Which means I'm too late. Romeo has already been here, and he's had more time than I ever expected.

Cloud skids to a halt as we reach a safer distance, and Jesse slides off. Lukas dismounts as well, eyes flicking toward Jesse with concern.

"Okay... are you alright?" Lukas asks, searching Jesse's expression.

"Yeah, you guys saved my life! Thank you!" Jesse exhales, the relief evident in his voice.

Something catches my eye—the strange new accessory Jesse now wears on his hand. A gauntlet of prismarine, its surface gleaming under the flickering torchlight of Beacontown. The way it pulses, almost as if alive, sends a wave of unease rolling through me.

"Jesse, where did you get that gauntlet?" I ask, dreading the answer.

Jesse lifts his hand, flexing his fingers as if testing the weight of it. "I found it over a pit of endless monsters. It... called my name, so I picked it up, and now I can't get it off." He explains, raising an eyebrow. "Why? Do you know something?"

I exhale sharply, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose. "We're in some deep shit this time."

"You know something, don't you?!" Lukas demands, staring at me with wide eyes, his tone edged with both suspicion and urgency.

"Of course I do! That prismarine bastard is the reason I'm here!" I snap, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I freeze. I said too much.

Lukas and Jesse's heads snap toward me.

"What?!" They shout in unison.

"We don't have time for this! I'll explain later, but right now we have to destroy that thing before it destroys us!" I jerk my head toward the prismarine colossus, which is still looming over the town, its glowing green eyes searching. "Jesse, I hope you have an idea how we're gonna pull this off!"

Jesse nods, glancing at the gauntlet before shifting his gaze toward the towering figure. "I saw a spot on the back of its head. I'm hoping that's its weak spot!"

"Sounds like I better keep him distracted, then." Lukas tightens his grip on his bow before turning toward Jesse, offering his horse.

Jesse wastes no time swinging onto the saddle. "Thanks, Lukas. Be careful. Y/N, you're with me! If you know something, your knowledge will be helpful in taking this thing down."

"I'll do my best." I nod, gripping Cloud's reins as Jesse takes off. I follow close behind, keeping my gaze locked on Lukas, waiting for him to initiate the distraction.

Lukas draws back his bowstring and looses an arrow, the tip glowing faintly in the dim light. It strikes true, embedding itself into the giant's prismarine armor. The colossus lets out a deep, rumbling snarl and swings its massive arm toward Lukas in retaliation.

The distraction works. Jesse and I surge forward, closing the distance. But just as I prepare to make my move, something catches my attention.

A lone figure, standing frozen in terror beneath the colossus's enormous foot.

A boy, no older than a teenager, clad in a bright green jacket and a loosely knotted blue tie. His thick glasses reflect the ambient glow of the monster's eyes, his messy dark hair tousled from the chaos around him.

He isn't moving. The colossus shifts its weight, preparing to stomp. If he doesn't move—

I don't hesitate.

"Go without me!" I yell at Jesse, yanking Cloud's reins to the side.

He doesn't argue, pressing forward while I steer Cloud straight toward the boy. My pulse hammers against my ribs as the ground trembles beneath us. The foot is coming down fast.

"Gotcha!" I shout, reaching out and pulling him onto Cloud's back in one swift motion.

Cloud grunts under the extra weight, but she doesn't falter. The moment we clear the danger zone, the colossus's foot slams into the ground behind us with an earth-shattering impact. A gust of dust and debris erupts around us, but we're safe.

The boy clings to me, his fingers trembling as they grip my armor. His breath is ragged, shallow.

I guide Cloud a few blocks away from the battle before slowing her to a stop. Dismounting, I turn to the boy, placing my hands on his shoulders. "You're safe for now. Go. Get out of here and find somewhere to hide, alright?"

He stares at me, then back at the colossus, which is now swatting at itself in irritation, trying to shake Jesse loose.

"Go!" I repeat, shaking him gently out of his daze.

The boy nods hurriedly and takes off, his silhouette vanishing into the chaos.

I waste no time mounting Cloud again, pivoting her back toward the battle. The colossus's glowing green eyes flicker erratically as it lets out an agonized roar, staggering forward on unsteady knees.

It's going down. I spur Cloud out of its impact zone as the giant collapses, the ground shaking violently beneath its weight. The deafening crash echoes through the air as its massive frame crumbles.

A moment of stillness.

"WELL... FOUGHT... MY... CHAMPION..." The colossus wheezes, its voice rasping as if being drained away. Then, in a plume of white smoke, it vanishes.

Prismarine shards rain from the sky like broken glass, scattering across the ground. And in the center of it all, a massive golden clock crashes to the earth with a metallic clang.

I don't need to be told that this thing is important. The same eerie glow that pulsed from the colossus now radiates from the clock face. That must be what manipulated the sky.

I rush toward Jesse and Lukas, dismounting Cloud in one fluid motion.

"That was really something." Lukas mutters, his gaze locked onto the clock.

"No kidding." I exhale, my chest still heaving.

Before we can celebrate, a fresh wave of screams rings out from the other side of town.

Zombies. They're still pouring in through the broken gate, advancing in droves.

Beyond them, standing at the ready, is Petra—blades flashing as she cuts through the undead with brutal precision. Beside her, fending off a swarm of skeletons, is a broad-shouldered man with long hair and an eye patch.

Something about him screams pirate.

"Oh man, these things are gonna keep coming until we get the sun back up!" Jesse groans, his voice tight with frustration as he glances at the perpetually frozen moon above.

The three of us sprint toward the massive golden clock, its gears still whirring softly from the prismarine giant's fall. Standing near the base, the boy I rescued earlier stares up at it, his thick glasses reflecting the eerie glow of its surface. His expression flickers between curiosity and unease, as if he's trying to make sense of something bigger than himself.

"Any idea how to use it?" His voice is barely above a whisper, uncertain but laced with something else—familiarity? Does he know Jesse?

Jesse doesn't hesitate. He grips the dial of the clock with both hands and gives it a hard spin. The air around us crackles with energy as the sky shifts unnaturally fast. The moon dips below the horizon in mere seconds, and just like that, the sun surges back into the sky, flooding Beacontown with light.

The moment the first golden rays hit the ground, the undead shriek in agony. The zombies burst into flames, their burning flesh filling the air with the rancid stench of decay. Skeletons stagger, their bones cracking as they collapse into heaps of ash. The town erupts into cheers of relief, voices mixing together in a triumphant symphony.

From the other side of the battlefield, Petra and the long-haired man I noticed earlier turn toward us. Jesse waves at them, but Petra doesn't move. She stands frozen in place, her eyes locked onto me. Her mouth falls open slightly, her expression a mixture of shock and something unreadable.

I lift a hand in a hesitant wave, forcing a small smile.

"I can't believe it actually works!" The boy with glasses exclaims, motioning toward the clock with wide eyes.

Lukas frowns, his fingers running through his blonde hair in thought. "This thing could be super dangerous."

"It is dangerous." I correct him, not bothering to sugarcoat it. This isn't just some relic. It's a weapon, one powerful enough to rewrite time itself. Lukas doesn't respond, but I can tell by the tight set of his jaw that he knows I'm right.

His silence doesn't last long. "How sure are you that this Admin guy is gone?" He asks, his voice low and uncertain.

"He's not." I shift my stance, my fingers curling into fists. "You guys wanna know why I'm here? Because I've been hunting this Admin for the last five years. I've studied him, tracked him, tried to figure out how to kill the bastard. My search led me here—to Beacontown. I didn't understand why at first, but now I do." I gesture toward the gauntlet wrapped tightly around Jesse's hand. Its faint glow pulses, almost like a heartbeat.

Jesse follows my gaze, eyes narrowing slightly. "You knew..." Lukas's voice is sharp, a cutting accusation. "You knew what that giant was, didn't you?! You lied to me!"

I inhale deeply, steadying myself before responding. "I know you're upset, but I couldn't risk telling you. Not when I wasn't sure if the Admin was actually here. This is a high-priority mission. I didn't want to get Beacontown involved—" I exhale sharply, glaring at that cursed gauntlet, "but it looks like you've all been involved longer than I expected."

Jesse's expression hardens. "What do you know about this Admin anyway?" He crosses his arms, his voice steady, but there'ss an edge to it. He's demanding answers, and after everything, I can't blame him.

"He's incredibly powerful. Could destroy the world if he wanted to, but he won't. He's too narcissistic to destroy something he created." I explain, choosing my words carefully. "His abilities range from telekinesis to shapeshifting, reality-warping, and who knows what else. That gauntlet you're wearing? That's not some random artifact, Jesse. It's a direct link to him. And that makes you a target."

Jesse's fingers flex slightly, as if he's only now realizing just how tight the gauntlet feels around his wrist.

"Why do you have it?" I ask, wanting to know the full story.

Jesse hesitates, glancing at Petra before answering. "It was down in the mines. Petra went looking for some llama, and I went with her. The llama led us to the gauntlet, and I picked it up. When I took it, it opened up a pit of endless monsters, and we couldn't figure out how to close it. So Petra directed me to Jack and Nurm—those two over there."

He gestures behind him. I follow his motion, my gaze landing on the long-haired man from earlier and a villager with a green hat and a white coat. They stand with Petra, alongside another unfamiliar face—a white-haired man with charcoal-colored eyes and a long, flowing beard, his blue coat catching the light.

The moment I lay eyes on him, a cold feeling settles in my gut. There's something off about him.

The way he carries himself, the way his eyes scan the battlefield, detached and calculating... It's like he's watching, waiting. I don't know who he is yet, but something tells me I'm about to find out.

The pirate-looking guy is Jack, and the villager with the green hat must be Nurm.

"Jack and Nurm pointed us toward the Admin's sea temple." Jesse continues, adjusting his grip on the gauntlet as he speaks. "They said a structure block would be the only thing that could close the pit."

That catches my attention. My head tilts slightly as I process his words. "Structure block? Yeah, I'm familiar with those." I say, nodding. "They're meant to be tools for defense. A gift from the Admin—if you can even call it that—for completing one of his twisted little challenges."

Jesse gives me a knowing look, confirming my suspicions. "Well, we got the structure block... but then that prismarine giant came after us. We barely escaped, closed the pit, and then..." His voice trails off, as if the weight of it all is finally settling in.

"But the Admin followed you here to pick a fight." I finish for him, crossing my arms.

"Exactly." Jesse nods, then his gaze sharpens slightly as he looks at me. "How do you know so much about the Admin anyway?" His voice isn't accusatory, but there's an unmistakable note of suspicion.

"Like I said." I reply, shrugging. "I've been hunting him. If you want to take down prey like him, you have to study it first."

"Doesn't that seem... I don't know, dangerous?" Jesse asks, concern slipping into his tone.

I huff, running a hand through my hair. "Of course it's dangerous, but I'm not doing this for fun, Jesse. I need answers. The Admin knew my mother. That means he knows the truth I've been looking for."

Jesse's brows knit together, and I can see the gears turning in his head. "Your mother?" He asks. "Your real mother? You found out who she is?"

I roll my eyes at his endless stream of questions, though I know he means well. "Yes." I sigh. "And she knew the Admin. He killed her. So once I get the answers I seek, I'm going to kill him—for revenge, and for a few other reasons."

Silence stretches between us for a moment, Jesse finally out of questions. His expression softens as he looks at me, and then, without warning, he pulls me into a tight hug.

"It's good to have you back, Y/N." Jesse murmurs against my shoulder.

A lump forms in my throat, but I push it down. "It's good to be back." I breathe, wrapping my arms around him.

A sudden, high-pitched squeak interrupts the moment. "Wait... Y/N?!"

I blink, pulling away from Jesse to see the boy with glasses staring at me with wide, star-struck eyes.

I narrow my eyes slightly, realization clicking. "Oh! You're the one I nearly had to scrape off the bottom of that prismarine giant's foot!" I exclaim.

Jesse chuckles, glancing between us with amusement. "Y/N, this is my assistant, Radar. Radar, you already know who Y/N is." He leans in closer to me and mutters under his breath. "He's kinda your biggest fan."

I raise an eyebrow but nod in understanding.

"Hello, Radar. It's a pleasure to meet you." I say, offering my hand. "Sorry our first encounter wasn't under better circumstances."

Radar's entire body goes rigid as he looks down at my outstretched hand like it's a rare treasure. Then, slowly, he lifts his gaze back up to me, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"You... you wanna shake my hand? Me?!" He squeals, practically vibrating with excitement.

I raise an eyebrow, watching him expectantly. Radar hesitates, then finally, with the kind of reverence usually reserved for ancient relics, reaches forward and takes my hand. I shake it gently, and his whole body tenses like he's about to combust. His eyes are wide, practically glowing, and I swear I can see imaginary sparkles surrounding him.

I release his hand, but Radar continues to stare at it in awe, his lips forming silent words.

"Uh... you alright?" I ask, waving a hand in front of his face.

Radar's eyes roll into the back of his head, and before I can react, he slumps backward and collapses onto the ground with a dull thud.

Jesse sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with disappointment. "Radar... we've been over this."

Lukas chuckles beside me, his shoulders shaking as he tries—and fails—to keep his amusement in check.

"Does he do that often?" I ask, raising an eyebrow as I look down at Radar sprawled on the ground.

Jesse exhales through his nose, crossing his arms as he glances at his assistant. "Well, no... But he's been fawning over the idea of meeting you in person ever since I took him on as my assistant. It's actually a little concerning how much he likes you." He mutters, shaking his head.

I shift my gaze back to Radar, whose chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths. He isn't unconscious, just frozen in shock, his wide eyes still locked on his hand like he's trying to process what just happened.

"Alright, come on. Up you go." I sigh, reaching down and grabbing his wrist, hauling him to his feet in one smooth motion. His legs wobble like a newborn foal's, and I brace myself in case he keels over again.

The moment he's upright, Radar gasps, staring at me like I just lifted an entire mountain with one hand. "You're— You're so strong!" He stammers, his voice cracking slightly.

I tense, ready to catch him if he decides to collapse again. "Don't pass out on me, alright? I don't want Jesse to lose his valued assistant." I say, watching him carefully.

Radar's head jerks up, his expression shifting from awe to sheer determination. He straightens his posture, pressing his lips together in a wobbly attempt to look composed. "Right! Of course! I-I wouldn't dream of it!" He insists, nodding furiously.

Jesse sighs, rubbing his temple as Lukas snickers beside him, clearly enjoying every second of this.

"Look, someone should keep an eye on this thing. I can take the first watch." Lukas suggests, motioning toward the looming clock.

"Actually, I'll volunteer. I want to help." Radar pipes up, straightening his posture and clearing his throat, as if trying to sound more confident.

Lukas hums in thought, glancing between the damaged remains of Beacontown and the clock before nodding. "I'd say we both do it, but one of us should really get started on repairs."

Jesse looks between the two, clearly debating. Then, his gaze flickers to me, his expression practically screaming for backup. I just shrug, leaving the decision up to him.

"Sorry, Radar, we really need someone a little... sturdier keeping an eye on this. I think Lukas should do it." Jesse says carefully, shooting Radar an apologetic look.

Radar's face falls, his shoulders sagging slightly. He masks it quickly, but it’s clear Jesse’s approval means a lot to him. Something about the way he carries himself, trying so hard to prove his worth, reminds me of someone. My younger brother who wasn't really my brother—no, that's not the point. He reminds me of Jesse too, back before he became the so-called 'boss' of Beacontown.

"Hey, Radar, don't feel bad. If you get started on repairs, I might come help you in a little bit. Maybe show you a few tricks." I offer, nudging him lightly.

Radar perks up immediately, his eyes brightening as if I just handed him a diamond sword. "Okay!" He beams, before hurrying off to join the repair efforts. I chuckle at his enthusiasm, shaking my head.

"Huh, that's odd." Jesse muses, his gaze following Radar.

"What?" I ask, arching an eyebrow.

"You don't warm up to new people that easily. Then again, Radar has that effect on people." Jesse shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck.

I cross my arms, considering it for a second. "No, it's not that. He reminds me of my little brother... and you, before you became bossy." I smirk, jabbing Jesse playfully in the ribs.

"Hey! I'm not bossy! I'm the leader, I call the shots!" Jesse huffs, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, that's called being bossy." I deadpan.

Jesse lets out an exaggerated groan and rolls his eyes, but there’s something amusingly childish about the way he turns his head away. I narrow my eyes at him. Wait... is he—

"Are you pouting?" I ask, barely able to hide my grin.

"What?! No!" Jesse yelps, his voice an octave higher than usual.

"Oh my god, you’re totally pouting! Wow... The great leader of the Order of the Stone, Jesse, is actually pouting. This is the best thing I've seen in years." I tease, barely containing my laughter.

Jesse’s face flushes red with embarrassment. I can practically see the steam rising from his ears. Without thinking, I reach up and rake my fingers through his hair, using his head as an armrest. "Cheer up, short stack. I was only teasing." I grin.

Jesse stiffens, his entire body going rigid. Then, with a scowl, he swats my arm away. "What did you just call me?! I am not short! Get off!"

I chuckle at his indignant tone, watching as he hastily tries to fix his hair, fingers combing through the strands in a poor attempt to salvage the mess I made.

"It’s not funny!" Jesse grumbles, glaring at me.

But it really, really is.

Chapter Text

"Hate to break up this love fest, but we have work to do." Lukas clears his throat, his arms crossed as he interrupts the moment.

"You’re right, and it's not a love fest!" I sigh, rolling my eyes at him before turning back to Jesse.

Lukas smirks slightly but quickly sobers. "So, what are you gonna do now?" He shifts his gaze toward Jesse, waiting for an answer.

Jesse exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think I’m gonna rebuild Rueben's memorial. It got pretty trashed." He says, gesturing to the ruined remains of the once-proud tribute to his old friend.

I follow his gesture, my stomach twisting at the sight of the shattered stone, the broken pieces of something that was meant to last. My blood simmers at the sheer disrespect of it all. "Oh wow, that’s horrible. What an asshole. I'm so sorry." I say, my fists clenching at my sides.

Jesse offers me a small, appreciative smile, but his shoulders sag under the weight of his grief. "I appreciate that. Feels pretty bad." He mumbles, his voice tinged with loss.

"We’re gonna pick up the pieces, though." He continues.

Lukas, however, isn't finished. "When I asked what you were gonna do, I was actually talking about that glove of yours." He mutters, eyeing the gauntlet on Jesse’s hand like it's a ticking time bomb.

Jesse stiffens, flexing his fingers inside the prismarine gauntlet. "What about it?"

"Because I gotta tell you, Jesse, this whole 'Admin' thing? It’s... well, it's very you." Lukas says, his tone cautious yet teasing. "I guess what I’m saying is, I know you say you're trying to settle down and run Beacontown, but... it just seems like you can’t quit that life, y'know?" His eyes drift over the citizens working to repair their town. "Adventure always finds you."

Jesse bristles slightly, his grip tightening. "I don’t care if 'that life' keeps trying to drag me back. I like Beacontown. I like helping people!" His voice rises just a bit, defensive.

"That’s great then." Lukas nods. "I mean, the people clearly love you. I— I didn’t say any of that to be mean. We’ve had a ton of adventures, and I just want you to be happy. I mean, that’s what that little pig wanted for all of us." He places a comforting hand on Jesse’s shoulder.

Jesse’s expression falters at the mention of Rueben, his gaze flickering back to the ruined memorial. His fingers twitch, his jaw tightening.

I step in. "Lukas, I know you mean well, but shut up. You’re not helping."

Lukas winces, withdrawing his hand as Jesse gives me a silent look of gratitude.

"You’re right, sorry." Lukas sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll stay and guard the clock." Without another word, he walks away.

Jesse exhales, staring after him.

"Hey, you alright?" I ask, my voice softer this time. "I mean, this whole thing has been a lot to take in, in such a short amount of time."

Jesse hesitates, glancing at me before forcing a small, tired grin. "Yeah, I'll be fine. You should be more concerned about yourself. If the Admin isn't dead like you say, then you’ll have a target on your back if word gets out you’ve been hunting him."

I narrow my eyes. "Jesse... I know that look. You're trying to hide your feelings so you don’t look vulnerable. You’re doing what you taught me not to do." I scold gently.

Jesse sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I guess I am. I don’t mean to..." He trails off, his gaze distant.

"But when everyone looks up to you, you don’t want them to see how much you’re struggling." I finish for him. "I know the feeling all too well."

Jesse nods, his posture relaxing slightly. "I know you do... I guess that's why when I’m around you, I feel like I can be vulnerable. Like I can actually say what’s on my mind without being looked down on. I don’t feel that way around anyone else... just you."

His words linger between us, heavier than I expected.

"Even if it's just one person, it's good to have someone to confide in." I say, nudging his shoulder. "You know my door is always open if you need someone to talk to."

Jesse swallows, looking at me like I just lifted a weight off his chest. "I— Thank you. I really needed that." Without warning, he pulls me into a gentle hug, his face burying into the crook of my neck.

"You’re welcome." I whisper, closing my eyes for a moment.

When he finally pulls away, his sorrow fades into something more genuine. A real smile.

"That’s better. Now go. Rebuild Rueben’s memorial. I’ll be waiting for you when you get done." I urge.

Jesse nods before heading off toward the ruins of the tribute, determination in his step.

A short while later…

Jesse steps back, admiring his work. The memorial stands tall once again, just as it had before the prismarine colossus tore it down. A peaceful expression settles on his face, a bittersweet sense of closure.

"It looks nice." I say, stepping beside him.

Jesse smiles at the compliment. "Thanks."

He turns to me, something shifting in his eyes. "Hey, I wanna introduce you to Jack and Nurm. You know their names, but they don’t know you."

I nod. "Sure, why not?"

Jesse leads the way toward a small group of people. I recognize Jack, the pirate-looking guy, and the villager in the green hat—Nurm. Then, my gaze locks on the third person.

The man with the blue jacket.

Something about him makes my stomach churn. The way his dark, glittering eyes land on me feels... wrong. Like he’s studying me too closely, as if he already knows who I am.

Jesse either doesn’t notice or doesn’t think much of it. He gestures between us. "Hey guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, Jack and Vos."

Vos. The man with the blue jacket.

A strange, uneasy feeling crawls up my spine. I don’t trust him.

"Oh, Y/N? I've heard a lot about you. Nice to finally meet you in person." Jack grins, stepping forward and offering his hand. His grip is firm, calloused from years of adventuring, and when I shake it, he nods in approval. "Firm grip. I can respect that." He shrugs, flashing an easygoing smile.

"Y/N?" A voice speaks up, uncertain, hesitant. I turn to see Vos frozen in place, his wide, dark eyes locked onto me like he's just seen a ghost.

"Yes, that's me." I reply, narrowing my eyes slightly. "Uh... have we met before?"

Vos stiffens, but only for a fraction of a second before his features smooth into something composed, polite. "Ah, no. I don't believe we have. As my friend Jack said, I have heard good things about you. It is simply marvelous to meet you." He smiles, stepping forward and extending his hand.

Something about the way he says it feels off. His words are polite, but there's an unnatural cadence to them, too practiced. Still, I reach out, prepared to shake his hand. But the moment our fingers touch, a shock jolts up my arm like a live wire. My mind reels as images flood my vision.

A figure, skin the color of deep ocean water, veins glowing an eerie red that pulses like molten lava. Wild red hair, a face etched with cruel amusement. His eyes burn like fire, pupils shifting like embers in the wind. His voice is layered, an echoing distortion with a glitching undertone. And then—a baby's wail, raw and piercing, blending into a cacophony of overlapping voices, each fighting to be heard. The vision shifts, and suddenly I see Vos—no, not Vos—disintegrating into inventory pixels, his body reduced to nothing. The red-haired man looms over the sight, grinning triumphantly.

My breath catches, my pulse hammering. The images snap away as quickly as they came, and I blink hard, the world around me returning to focus. My hand is still in Vos's, but now I see it for what it is.

This man is not Vos. The real Vos is gone. And standing before me, disguised and undetected, is the man I have spent the last five years hunting.

Romeo.

The bastard is right here, parading around as someone he's not, smiling in the faces of my friends, blending in like a shadow. My stomach twists, nausea creeping up my throat. I am standing before the very monster I swore to destroy.

I force my expression to remain neutral, even as my grip tightens around his hand. His fingers press against mine, his palm heating unnaturally. Wisps of smoke curl between our hands, and small embers flicker from his fingertips.

He’s trying to burn me. Good luck with that.

I squeeze harder, refusing to flinch. His fiery gaze meets mine, both of us locked in a silent battle of will, neither willing to back down.

"Uh... guys?" Jesse clears his throat, breaking the moment.

I release Romeo's hand instantly, stepping back, shaking the sensation from my fingers.

"Hmm?" I hum, playing off the tension.

"Everything alright? You two just kinda... stopped talking for a minute." Jack pipes up, looking between us with concern.

Vos—no, Romeo—straightens his posture, smoothing his sleeve as though nothing happened. "Oh yes, everything is fine, Jack." He assures, voice as smooth as ever. "Y/N, I must admit... you have a very firm grip." He rubs his hand subtly, pretending to nurse the slight strain.

I force a polite smile through clenched teeth. "I apologize. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength."

For a fraction of a second, his eyes harden. A sharp glare, gone as quickly as it appeared. He knows. He knows that I know who he really is.

And worse, he knows I can't expose him now. Not here, not surrounded by innocent people. If I reveal the truth without solid proof, Jesse will have too many questions—questions that would force me to reveal everything about my mother, about how I even recognize Romeo in the first place.

I am not ready for that.

"Hey, where’s Nurm?" Jesse asks, scanning the area.

"He’s with Petra. Should be back any minute." Jack shrugs, placing items onto a crafting table.

Romeo watches me carefully, but his next words make my blood boil. "Nice work fighting that Admin fellow, by the way. Just stunning." He praises, the compliment dripping with amusement.

It takes everything in me not to scoff outright. Stunning? It would be stunning if that had actually been the real Admin. The little liar is toying with us, playing along as if he’s still just Vos.

"Well, it's not my first battle against an impossible foe." Jesse grins, confidence flickering in his eyes.

"Oh?" Romeo tilts his head in fake curiosity.

"The Wither Storm." Jack explains, cutting in. "I’ll get you the book. It’s actually a pretty good read. I think I have a copy back at the shop."

My eyebrows lift slightly. Jack runs a shop? Interesting. No one told me that.

"Yeah." I chime in. "The Wither Storm was a living storm that nearly destroyed the world. There was also a pumpkin-wearing serial killer, a mind-controlling supercomputer, and the Old Builders themselves."

"Oh, and I suppose you’ve read the book?" 'Vos' asks, feigning interest.

I don’t blink. "No." I say simply. "I was there."

His surprise is subtle, but I catch it. His lips part slightly before he recovers, his smile returning as he processes that information.

I know exactly what he’s thinking. And now he knows exactly who he’s up against.

"Hang on, hang on. I missed that last part. If we take that road, it goes through a swamp and a mesa biome?!" Petra's voice cuts through the air as she strides toward us, her focus locked on Nurm. She's so caught up in the conversation that she doesn’t even register Jesse or me standing there.

What is she talking about? I glance at Jesse, but the confusion on his face tells me he's just as clueless.

Nurm lets out a series of sounds, which, judging by Petra's nod, translate to a confirmation.

"Okay, okay. It’s settled. The earlier we leave, the better—" Petra stops mid-sentence, her words dying in her throat as she finally notices us.

Her entire demeanor shifts in an instant. The excitement in her eyes flickers out, replaced by a stiff, uneasy guilt. Her shoulders tense, her mouth parts slightly, as if she’s searching for an excuse before Jesse or I can say anything.

"Wait, you’re leaving with these guys?" Jesse asks, hurt clear in his voice.

Petra flinches slightly, scratching the back of her head as she hesitates. "Er... Yeah."

I tense. So Jack is going on an adventure, and Petra’s going with him? I don’t know why I'm surprised. If anyone would chase after a thrill, it'd be her. But judging by Jesse’s expression, she didn’t mention any of this to him beforehand.

"Were you even gonna tell me? Or were you just gonna sneak off?" Jesse’s voice tightens, his fists clenching slightly at his sides.

"Of course I was gonna tell you! I was just... working up to it. Slowly." Petra sighs, shifting uncomfortably under Jesse’s stare. "Besides, I don’t see you getting mad at Y/N. They left too. For five years! Who does that?!" Her tone is sharp, defensive.

I arch a brow. Really? She's gonna throw that at me now?

"Y'know what? Yeah, I left. I'll admit it. But at least I didn't sneak around the subject." I shoot back, my voice steady but firm. "That's the difference between me and you, Petra."

Her shoulders slump slightly, her defensive walls cracking for just a moment.

"Jesse, I can explain—" She starts again, but before she can finish, a glittering snowflake drifts from the sky, landing softly in her outstretched palm.

"What the hell?" I mutter, watching the tiny crystal shimmer in the sunlight. "This isn't a snow biome."

More snowflakes begin to fall, each one sparkling unnaturally as they catch the light. They swirl through the air like slow-moving embers, delicate yet eerily out of place. A single flake drifts onto Jesse’s gauntlet, and the moment it makes contact, the prismarine surface pulses with an eerie green glow.

Jesse's jaw tightens, his eyes darkening as he glares at the snow.

"The Admin." He snarls, his grip tightening into a fist.

"The one and only!" A high-pitched, almost theatrical voice squeals as a sudden gust of icy wind rushes through the broken gate of Beacontown. Snow swirls and churns, forming into a distinct shape—a creature rising up from the frozen earth itself.

A snowman.

Not just any snowman, though. A talking one.

It struts toward us with exaggerated confidence, its lopsided grin made of charcoal stretched wide across its face. A black top hat sits proudly on its head, tilted slightly to one side. Thin, spindly sticks serve as arms, twitching with unnatural movement, while a neatly tied blue bow tie rests against its frosty chest. It wears a blue vest, its buttons made from more lumps of charcoal, and though its form is simple, there’s something deeply unsettling about the way it moves—too fluid, too controlled, too alive.

"I had so much fun during our last battle." The Admin grins, his voice full of amusement. "Super epic! Just couldn't stay away!"

I immediately shoot a glare toward Vos, my jaw tightening. I don't know how he's pulling this off—how he's manipulating snow and ice into this ridiculous form—but it's starting to get under my skin.

"Wait... You're the Admin?" Jesse asks, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"What, that giant PRISMARINE COLOSSUS?" The Admin lets out a dramatic laugh. "Ha! Just a construct. Rolled it out for the occasion. Pretty fun, right?" His head tilts at an unnatural angle, waiting expectantly for agreement.

Jesse's hands curl into fists. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you're being such a jerk! You could seriously hurt people." His voice hardens, and somehow, despite the size difference, he manages to glare down at the much taller snowman.

The Admin waves a stick arm dismissively. "Aw, c'mon! Don’t do me like that. You have to admit you had a little fun. All those Guardian fish? The temple? See, you four went down to my sea temple... came back out alive. Heroes!" He claps his hands together with a loud crackling of ice, pointing to Jesse, Petra, Jack, and Vos. "You're perfect for my creations. Perfect."

Jesse's shoulders tense. "Where are you going with this?"

"I've got a new challenge for ya!" The Admin giggles, his jagged smile widening. "Trust me, you're gonna love it!"

The sky above darkens at a terrifying speed, the unnatural shift almost suffocating. The giant clock vanishes in a burst of purple smoke, its absence leaving behind an ominous void in the heavens.

"Not again." Jesse grumbles, his head snapping up. A deep, guttural growl rumbles from somewhere in the distance, the sound thick with something inhuman. A warning.

"You hear that?" The Admin leans forward, his jagged grin never wavering. "That's a diamond-class wave of doom and destruction headed right for town."

My fingers curl into fists so tightly that my knuckles crack. It’s taking everything in me not to attack Vos right here and now.

"They don't stand a chance, Admin." Jesse growls, stepping forward, his voice dripping with defiance. "I'm going to stop each and every one of your monsters."

The Admin chuckles, delighted. "Ooh, a hero with attitude! I love it, really do!" He clears his throat, his body shifting slightly. "Your town will be trapped in an eternal snowy night, forever plagued by deadly waves of mobs. Until..." His smirk sharpens. "You recapture that clock."

"Really? And I don't suppose you know where it is, considering it just poofs away whenever it feels like it?" I hiss.

The Admin’s beady charcoal eyes lock onto me, as if he’s only just now acknowledging my presence. "Oh, why hello! I didn’t see you there, Y/N." His voice dips into something smug, something knowing. "Fiesty as ever. But I’m glad you spoke up! The clock's at the tippy top of my awesome, fantastic, super deadly icy palace of despair. It’s simple! Just follow the path. You can’t miss it."

He steps aside, and as if on command, a glowing trail of snow carves itself into the ground, stretching far into the distance.

"Fine. We accept your challenge." Jesse bites out, his eyes burning with determination. "I'm gonna get that clock, and then you're next."

The Admin shows no fear—only amusement, only excitement. "Ooh, that one gave me the shivers. You are legit, Jesse. Very excited." His voice lilts like a twisted melody, a song he's enjoying far too much.

Jesse scowls. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from us?"

For the first time, something flickers in those glittering black eyes, a shift so brief it nearly goes unnoticed.

"Why? Why?!" Then, as if nothing happened, his jagged grin returns. "Because it’s fun, obviously!" The Admin lets out a high-pitched giggle, and Jesse's patience snaps.

With a sharp yell, Jesse unsheathes his sword and swings.

The blade meets the snowman's head with a clean strike, and in an instant, the head bursts apart, exploding into a flurry of snowflakes.

Silence.

For a brief moment, everyone is too stunned to move. Then, with a soft hiss of frost, another head reforms atop the snowman’s body, identical to the first. The jagged smile returns, this time far less amused.

"You think you've got it all figured out, don't you?" The Admin murmurs, his voice lowering into something colder. He claps his twig fingers together, and a swirl of purple particles ignites in the air.

The air crackles with unnatural energy as figures emerge from the mist—skeletons. But not ordinary ones.

Their eyes aren't empty sockets. Instead, they glow with an eerie, milky-white light. Their tattered gray robes hang off their skeletal frames, and in their hands, they grip bows already drawn, aimed straight at us.

"Ah, strays." The Admin muses, admiring his handiwork. "Pesky little consequence of eternal night." His grin widens. "And... Beacontown's new neighbors until you take care of that clock. Remember, find the clock, save the town. Buh-bye now!"

With one last chilling laugh, his entire body bursts into a whirlwind of snowflakes, dissolving into nothing.

"Augh! We need to protect the people!" Jesse shouts, snapping into action as Vos rushes to help citizens find shelter. Petra and Jesse unsheathe their swords, and I do the same. We're surrounded.

Shit. Zombies close in from one side, strays from the other. Jesse and I move back to back instinctively, our weapons raised.

"Just like old times, huh?" Jesse quips, trying to lighten the tension.

"Yeah." I grunt, dodging an arrow that whizzes past my ear. "Just with more eternal night and snow."

I spot the stray that shot it. It readies another arrow, its hollow gaze locked onto me. Groaning, I break into a sprint, zigzagging across the battlefield to avoid the onslaught of arrows. My blade slices clean through the first skeleton, its bones clattering uselessly to the ground. But more strays have already turned their sights on me.

Oh. Fuck.

Chapter Text

Arrows slice through the air toward me, their tips glinting under the eerie glow of the eternal night. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself for impact, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs. But nothing happens.

No pain. No force knocking me off my feet.

Silence. Not just the absence of sound, but an unnatural, suffocating stillness.

I open my eyes, confusion tightening my chest. The battlefield around me is frozen in time. The arrows hover in the air, locked in place just inches from my body. Jesse is mid-sprint, his face twisted in desperation, his arms outstretched like he had been trying to reach me. The mobs are caught mid-motion, their weapons raised, their lifeless eyes empty of thought. Even the air itself feels thick, heavy, as if the entire world has been pressed into a moment that refuses to move forward.

I step forward cautiously, my boots crunching against snow that refuses to settle. Slowly, I weave through the frozen strays, studying their still forms. I reach out and poke one of them, but it doesn’t react, its body locked in place as if it were a statue.

A presence tingles at the edge of my senses. I turn, and there they are.

"Onyx." I growl, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.

The familiar figure stands just a few feet away, an amused grin playing on their lips. Their glowing eyes glint with mischief, arms folded in that infuriatingly smug way. The surrounding air crackles faintly, like static clinging to my skin.

"Hello, Y/N. Good to see you." Onyx greets, their voice light, casual—like we were old friends catching up over tea instead of meeting for the first time in five years.

Anger surges through me, hot and searing. "Five years, Onyx. I haven't seen you in five years. And now you show up?" I snap, my fists clenching at my sides. "What did you do to my friends?" My gaze flicks to Jesse, still frozen mid-stride, his expression caught in a look of sheer panic.

Onyx lets out an exaggerated sigh, tilting their head. "No need to be so hostile. I did just save your life, you know." They remark, gesturing lazily to the frozen arrows. "I merely paused time. Thought it would be a good opportunity to catch up."

My jaw tightens. "So... you can just freeze time whenever you want?" I ask, skepticism lacing my tone.

Onyx waves a hand dismissively. "Not quite. I can only do it when you're in danger." They explain with a shrug, as if that somehow makes it better.

"Wow. My own personal guardian angel." I scoff, making air quotes with my fingers. "Lucky me."

Onyx huffs, their expression shifting to something slightly more annoyed. "Look, I'm just here to talk." They say, exasperation creeping into their tone.

"Yeah? Well, we have nothing to talk about." I snap. "You withheld information from me, simple as that."

Onyx pinches the bridge of their nose. "I knew you'd figure out the truth eventually." They mutter, clearly tired of the argument before it's even begun. "Besides, I can’t just hand you all the answers on a silver platter. It’s against the rules. We’ve been over this."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. How I have to find the answers myself, you’re just here to 'guide me on my journey.' Blah, blah, blah."

"Believe me, it’s not exactly fun for me either." Onyx retorts, placing a hand on their hip. "Do you think I enjoy watching you run around like a headless chicken when I know everything? But my hands are tied. Literally." They shake their wrists dramatically, as if bound by invisible chains.

"Right, sure." I deadpan.

Onyx exhales sharply, clearly realizing they're getting nowhere with me. "Fine. Have it your way. But don’t expect me to step in next time you need saving." Their voice is sharp, edged with irritation.

"Ha! I won’t need it regardless." I bite back, my grip tightening around my sword. In one swift motion, I decapitate the nearest frozen stray. Its body crumples to the ground the moment my blade slices through it.

Onyx clicks their tongue, then vanishes in a swirl of dark smoke. The world lurches back into motion.

Jesse stumbles forward, his momentum carrying him straight into the snow with a startled gasp. The sound of a body hitting the ground echoes through the battlefield, followed immediately by the metallic clang of his sword against the icy terrain. The stray beside me collapses in sync, its head rolling lifelessly across the snow.

Jesse’s head snaps up, eyes wide as they land on me. "How— You were over there—and suddenly you’re— What just happened?!" His gaze darts between the spot I was standing moments ago and where I am now, disbelief written all over his face.

I hesitate, then shake my head. "I think we have bigger things to worry about right now!" I deflect, jerking my head toward the horde of mobs still swarming Beacontown.

Jesse barely has time to process before we’re forced back into the fight. We move in sync, our swords flashing through the frigid air as we cut down one mob after another. I lose myself in the rhythm of battle, the world narrowing to the clash of steel and the howls of the undead.

Jack swings his weapon with a grunt, taking out the last stray with a well-placed strike. He exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders. "I've got a bad feeling more of 'em will be on the way." He mutters.

As if summoned by the thought alone, Lukas, Nurm, and Radar come barreling toward us, out of breath and wide-eyed.

"Jesse!" Lukas pants, barely able to catch his breath. "It was the craziest thing! That clock just vanished out from under my nose!"

"I know." Jesse groans, his grip tightening around his sword. "And now things are only gonna get worse until we get it back."

Lukas tenses at his words.

"Yeah, from his 'icy palace of despair' or whatever." Petra grumbles, rolling her eyes.

Radar steps forward, shoulders squared with newfound determination. "I'm coming too! I was happy to stay behind and watch Beacontown last time you left, but this time I wanna do more." His voice is steady, unwavering.

Jesse blinks, then grins. "Man, I’m proud of you, Radar."

Radar’s entire face lights up. "Really?!"

"Of course!" Jesse replies, clapping him on the shoulder.

The expression on Radar’s face says it all. He practically glows with pride, standing a little straighter, his excitement barely contained.

Radar straightens his back, a flicker of determination settling in his expression. "Well, I... I won't let you down." His voice is steady, but the eager spark in his eyes makes it clear just how much Jesse's words mean to him.

I suppress a chuckle at his enthusiasm, sending him a reassuring grin. His face practically lights up in response, and I swear he looks like he might start bouncing in place if he doesn’t contain himself.

Jesse steps forward, rolling his shoulders as he looks over the group. "All right, everyone. We have a clock to find!"

Radar nearly vibrates with excitement but composes himself, nodding firmly. I steal one last glance at him before shifting my attention to Jack as he approaches Nurm.

Jack lets out a heavy sigh, placing a hand on the villager’s shoulder. "Can't let you come along on this one, old friend."

Nurm lets out a questioning noise, tilting his head. It takes me a second to realize he’s asking what about you?

Jack’s grip on Nurm's shoulder tightens briefly. "I promise I'll come back." There’s something in his voice—something that almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. "Just protect the town while we're gone, alright?"

Nurm nods, his small stature somehow carrying a sense of reliability.

"Thanks, Nurm." Jesse grins before turning on his heel, signaling it’s time to go. I wave to Nurm, even though we haven’t been properly introduced. He simply waves back, his beady eyes watching us disappear into the snowy night.

...

The world around us is still, save for the soft crunch of frost-covered grass beneath our boots. The cold air nips at my exposed skin, and every exhale forms a small cloud of condensation. Jesse holds a torch out in front, the small flame flickering wildly against the night breeze.

The atmosphere is heavy, each of us acutely aware that danger could be lurking just beyond the tree line. Then, the stillness is shattered. A distant sound—low, guttural—rumbles beyond the darkness of the trees. It’s faint, almost carried by the wind, but enough to put every single one of us on edge.

Jesse slows his pace, his eyes scanning the shadows. "Stay close." He murmurs. Instinctively, we inch a little closer together.

Jack’s voice breaks the uneasy silence. "I don't mean to sound suspicious, but are we sure the Admin is going to keep his word about this clock?" His tone is skeptical, guarded.

Jesse scoffs, shaking his head. "Were you even listening to him? He’s a complete wacko! I bet he doesn’t even know what his game plan is!"

Jack lets out a dry chuckle, but Vos—walking just ahead of us—turns his head slightly, voice unnervingly even. "I wouldn't be so quick to write him off, Jesse. It might all be a ruse."

I stiffen, my teeth clenching behind closed lips. Of course, Vos would say that.

"I’m with Jesse, actually. I think he’s a few rails short of a full track." Jack mutters, his brows furrowed.

Vos frowns, but before the conversation can continue, Petra clears her throat. "Hey... uh... Jesse, can we talk?" Her tone is hesitant, almost guilty. She glances over her shoulder toward Radar and Vos, clearly waiting for them to give some space.

"Sure." Jesse nods.

Radar and Vos exchange a brief look before trudging ahead, murmuring something about scouting further along. I move to follow them but intentionally pace myself beside Jack, keeping distance between me and Vos.