It was dark again.
The fog around his mind receded for a moment, and he blinked up into the blackness. He could see color, blue, illuminated by the flicker of light from his gaze. so he was awake. Probably, at least.
His chest ached, his throat burned, but he could breathe, at least. Stephan had passed out only a minute or so into his torment, to his relief. The sheer horror in his eyes was almost worse than seeing him in the tank, chained to the bottom as he grasped unconsciously for air.
He wasn't sure how long it had gone on, or how long it had been since they stopped, but it hadn't been as long as the last time, at least. Or, maybe his body had grown more used to it. Whatever the case, he didn't hurt as much as the last time.
He hadn't been able to black out while he was drowning, but as soon as he could breathe again his body gave him little time before shutting down. He was still damp, now, so it couldn't have been too long ago. Steve was asleep next to him, arms pressed against his stomach as he curled around himself.. His breaths were shallow, and rapid despite his deep sleep, but he seemed fairly unharmed. Physically, at least.
His heart thumped dully in his chest. They would have killed him.
Pushing himself up, he braced a palm on the floor, painstakingly making his way onto his knees. Carefully, he began to examine his cellmate, searching for any other prominent injuries that he may have sustained since he last saw him. His skin was unmarked, except for a couple of light bruises - and the reddened skin around his collar. Herobrine took it off. It was becoming easier and easier to manipulate the physical things around him, although he didn't really know if it was new or just his motivation to move and live returning. Fingers barely brushing the metal, he let the surface disintegrate under his touch, leaving Stephan to breathe a bit easier.
He left his own collar alone.
Steve shifted under him, and he froze, hoping he hadn't woken him. He wasn't sure how long he had been able to rest, but if his treatment had been anything similar to his he would need all the sleep he could get. Hesitantly, he shuffled back, giving him a bit of space, but the slight noise only seemed to rouse him further. Giving up, he dropped back onto one arm, watching as his brother's blue eyes fluttered open. It would be good to talk to him, to see if there seemed to be any lasting damage.
He didn't want to talk about what had happened, though, just yet.
"Brine." Steve spoke, quietly.
"Steve." Herobrine responded in turn. The miner lifted one hand to his hair, then pulled it away, looking down at his hand. Damp.
When he lifted his head again, tears were spilling from his eyes and down his face.
He was in his arms as soon as Herobrine could struggle back up, throwing his arms around him and pulling him into his chest. Stephan wrapped his arms around his neck, pressing his face into his shoulder as he sobbed. A couple of disjointed words made it out of his mouth, but any more attempts to communicate fell flat as each cry wracked his body.
Herobrine held him tightly, one hand on his back and the other on the back of his neck, as he mumbled something in his ear. Dimly, he realized that he was speaking in swedish - which, as far as he knew, Steve didn't speak, but he hoped the meaning would get across.
Stephan barely reacted to him, movements or words, just crying into his shoulder until he ran out of tears to cry. Eventually, eventually, his sobs died off, a light hiccup escaping his body from time to time instead.
And then the apologies started coming.
"S-sorry, I'm sorry…" He whispered, fingers clutching at the fabric of Herobrine's shirt. "Mmsorry, thought I could help. I made it worse."
"Stop." Herobrine cut him off, and the word escaped his pained throat with a growl. Steve didn't stop.
"I thought I 's strong en-nough, o-only reason Notch let me come, but I'm not strong enough, Notch no 'm not…"
"Please stop." The plea caught him off guard, and Stephan's next words caught in his throat, breath seizing as he hesitated in the quiet. "You… are not at fault. Please don't apologize."
"Nnh-" The miner tried, but Herobrine pressed a hand to the back of his head, hugging him against his shouder. Unwilling to struggle, Steve gave up, leftover shudders making their way through his form as he let his head droop onto the elder's shoulder.
"There are many who are at fault here." Herobrine murmured, choosing each word carefully as every one was more painful than the last. "The people… who are doing this. They're the ones hurting us. The man who captured us in the first place, who sold-" His voice caught, and he hesitated a moment to recover. "Sold me to them. I-"
"Caden." He was interrupted by the name, mumbled into his shoulder, and he glanced down at his brother's head of scruffy hair. "The- the one who took us i-is a kid. Caden's his name. Scared kid. Did things he regretted. He got Notch and told him what happened." There was a moment of stillness as Herobrine processed this, then he finally drew another breath.
"Notch… at fault. Sent you here." This triggered another round of stammering to go off in his arms, Stephan halfheartedly trying to push him off to defend his creator. "And I'm at fault." He finished, cutting off Steve's words entirely. "I befriended you. Wouldn't have... got hurt."
"No! No, that's- you still-"
"Stop." It was less of an order than a plea, and Stephan caught onto the change of tone. "Can't talk." His voice had dwindled to a whisper, and now it was all but gone. The only remaining sound in the silence of the cell was their breaths, almost in harmony as they took comfort in each others' presence.
"You're…" He whispered, straining against the burning pain that had ignited in the back of his throat. "The only… innocent." Steve didn't respond, just rested his chin on his shoulder and shut his eyes against their waking nightmare.
Herobrine was asleep again.
Steve lay curled up on his side, head pillowed on his cellmate's stomach as he carefully timed each breath. Seven seconds in, hold for four, seven seconds out. He wasn't sure where he had learned this, probably from a villager, but he was pretty sure it was supposed to calm him down.
All it did was remind him how fleeting each breath really was.
It hadn't been so real, the first time. The first time he had been drifting under a haze of pain, half-dead by the time he found himself under the water. This time, though, this time he had been at full health. He had been forced to watch each bubble of air escape his lungs and disappear, chained to the bottom of the tank with no way out.
He remembered how long he had struggled - 58 seconds - how the first gulp of water instead of air felt in his lungs, cold and alien and how it felt like hands around his throat. He remembered tears springing to his eyes as the blackness began to crowd out the lights, immediately whisked away into the water before everything became nothing.
And then he remembered being sopping wet, and cold, and Herobrine was lowering him to the ground and walking towards the water.
Forgetting his breathing, Steve drew a shaky breath and blew it out. It was awful. It was the worst thing he had ever experienced, and the strain on his lungs still haunted him. The realization of his hair being wet had sent the memories crashing back down atop him, prompting his previous breakdown. Even now, even though he was mostly dry, the darkness that pressed around him felt too much like the water for comfort.
And Herobrine had willingly walked into it.
He hadn't seen the text in the chat until Herobrine had locked himself inside, bubbles escaping his mouth as he cast one glance at him on the ground. There was fear in his blank eyes, but there was relief, too. He absently wondered when he had learned to read him so well.
He'd done it to protect him, that much was clear. His words were still a patchy memory, but the phrase 'You'll kill him!' stood out from the rest.
Funny how that was once his goal.
The stark realization made him pause. He used to be afraid of Herobrine. Used to hate him. He could still remember the twisted grin as he caught him up by the neck, hurling him into a tree and slamming a foot into the arrowhead buried in his side. But, those memories were so much weaker than they once were, no longer instilled the same fear. At least, not towards Herobrine.
Because the Herobrine who hurt him was not the same Herobrine that lay curled beside him, was he?
The Herobrine who hurt him had rough hands, blazing eyes, a crazed laugh and fire. This Herobrine had careful, hesitant hands, one eye that flickered with just enough light to illuminate his sleeping face, whispers that came from another voice, and warmth.
It was the same Herobrine - the same body. The same mind. But the person was someone else. It wasn't Brian, but he wasn't sure it was Herobrine either.
How odd that the person who once caused him so much fear should be the only one with whom he could now feel safe.
10/7/19
Subject HB-V was locked in a tank full of water for roughly two minutes. The moment it entered the water, Subject HB began to move, breaking forcefully out of its cell by tearing apart the render and moving straight to its counterpart. For this reason, the experiment was not aborted when HB-V began to lose life signs, as observers chose to see what would transpire instead.
When Subject HB arrived, it immediately shattered the glass and forced the water out of HB-V's body, successfully resuscitating him. As HB-V regained consciousness, HB began to speak verbally, which has been recorded for study. This has been the first example we have of Subject HB making any attempt to communicate with those outside the world.
An exact transcript of the subject's words are as followed.
[I know you're watching. You cannot do to him what you've done to me. He is not like me. You'll kill him.]
An observer then asked if HB would be willing to take HB-V's place inside the tank. It agreed and locked itself inside the tank. It stayed with no attempts to escape for around three minutes, at which point an observer declared he had seen enough and aborted the test, sending both subjects to an empty room.
A bond exists between HB and HB-V. It has been theorized that HB-V is some sort of offshoot or separate consciousness, of which the original needs to survive, prompting it to protect it at all costs. Others have suggested that the bond is personal, familial.
Further testing may reveal the degree to which they are connected.
