The light of the torches was dim but constant, scarcely flickering so much as waving. It was strange to me; too perfect and too impenetrable. My eyes were heavy and my back ached badly as I fumbled with the straps of my breastplate.

"By Jeb," I whispered to the green man, Tyron. "My back is gone. Sorry about snapping at you back there, it really bloody hurts." I bent over chuckling in agony and he seemed to smile.

"What happened to you that messed your back up so much?"

"Two large fireballs were thrown at me. I knocked one away and had to block the other one… with my back."

"Ouch," Tyron winced.

"In hindsight, I probably should have just dodged it but that wasn't nearly heroic enough."

Tyron laughed.

"Nah, I get you," he nodded. "I did some crazy things in my time as well. I'll have to tell you about them some day."

"Why not now?"

His face went very serious a moment. "I've got to find out if they meant anything."

I remembered a phrase being touted recently. It was coined by some journalist when describing the Thaumic crisis, saying it was like being "kicked in the soul". Tyron had just reminded me of that kick, and how harsh it had been, and who the kicker had been.

"I understand," I gave up on fiddling with my breastplate, set it aside and placed a hand amidst the fur on his arm.

The silence was long, but there was a comprehension in it, an understanding.

"So, what's with our little sword-friend?" I hoarsely muttered. "He's been awful quiet."

"Hello!" It chirped. "Kir! Kay: new friend?"

I laughed loudly at the shock of it but then covered my mouth. David shifted his fevered brow slightly but didn't wake.

"Friendly little thing isn't he?" I beamed. In my head I accepted its offer of friendship. The colours within my mind lit up and my mood with them. It was pleased.

"Yes, he's a vein of bluestone. It's a sentient rock. Don't know what I'd do without him. We've been through it all - the dragons, Herobrine, the First and now this."

I nodded.

"And what about you?" Tyron asked, the slant of his eyes taking on a more friendly angle. "You and Astro?"

I deliberated, thinking back over it all. If I could tell Warnado and if I could tell Fire, I could tell him.

"I won't say we go way back, but it feels that way. Met him about four years ago now in Zine Craft - wealthy Craft in the Old Continent. He helped me out after I got into legal trouble, helped me build an airship…" I felt myself even then getting lost in the nostalgia but pressed on. "Then - it's complicated. My house was blown up, I was arrested for treason and then I ended up working for…"

I looked him in the eyes and was terrified at what the reaction would be. "Listen, I know this is not viewed as a good thing to do in interdimensional circles but I assure you, it is fine where I come from. At least, it is now. It should have been before too but it's complicated."

"Oh come on," Tyron waved a hand. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

I felt my cheeks going red and realised the thickness of his claws.

"Well, I don't think it is. I've just mentioned it and at least two people I've met so far have been rather appalled when I mentioned it-"

"Is it embarrassing?"

"No."

"You didn't become an exotic dancer or something?"

"What, no!"

He laughed voicelessly at my indignation. Kir seemed to find it hilarious.

"Then what is it?"

I breathed deeply. "I became a general of Herobrine in a war against Notch."

Silence.

"Not good," Kir seemed agape at this.

"Thats - fine," Tyron stared off into the distance, teeth gritted.

"I know he does genocidal things across other worlds but this one is different. I swear. We didn't even want to go to war. Israphel started it-"

I kept trying to project images of what happened to Kir, but I did it way too fast and the response was "Slow, slow!" I was panicking a little so I just kept going. Jeez, what happened to my nerves? I needed to get back in command of something.

Peacetime was ruining me. Hah! "Peacetime".

"Okay, seriously, slow down. Kir's trying to relay it to me, and I can only keep up so well."

"Sorry". I slowed my mind apologetically.

A long pause as Tyron's face contorted as if he were sucking something close to a million lemons. Then, at last, speech.

"I have no clue what you're trying to communicate. All I can piece together is that this Herobrine seems totally different to the one I killed. That's enough for me. Different strokes for different worlds I guess. It's cool."

"Oh thank Jeb," I laughed, no longer caring too much about those sleeping. "I was terrified for a second. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really need to fall asleep now. I am dying. It's a pleasure to meet you though."

"And you too," Tyron shook his head, looking as if I were the most singularly strange thing he'd ever seen. Excellent, I was winning ground back from Fire and Warnado in the aggressive quirkiness department.

I saluted and collapsed back onto a bed on the other side of the room, only half-aware of having walked to it. And I settled into my usual slate of strange and unsettling dreams.