AcumenDarious: Withered? Is that a pun?
It's good to be back.
NovaOrAvon: I know, I've been away for far too long.
I try not to leave stories unfinished, even if it takes me almost a year to continue it (like with this one).
Chapter sixteen: Beyond the grave
"Do we have everything?" Athena asked.
Sounds of affirmation followed. Everyone—except Kelly and Ellie, the two youngest slime sisters—had gathered at one of the cave entrances that would lead to the outside. Not that they'd need it; they'd already adapted to the teleportation side-effects and were now waiting. Waiting for Mystia to get ready with her map, and for Athena to say the word.
Even now, even with this large group of mobs, even though she'd been especially reluctant to partake in this risky mission to save a potential spy, Athena was still regarded as a leader figure. She looked over the group. They were nervously talking amongst themselves. Some of the mobs among them didn't belong. Even for a group that consisted mostly of young adults, some were simply too young; for all their skills—mob-related and -unrelated—Yaebi, Sylvia and Cassandra hadn't fully developed their powers, and their experience was lacking compared to the others'.
Athena's attention was drawn by two approaching green figures. Gelli's two sisters—Kelly and Ellie—were heading for the eldest, who separated herself from the group to meet them. Athena hesitated. Gelli had faced fights in the past, but would she stand a chance against Raulyn? They were all risking their lives, of course, but Gelli…
Making a decision, Athena intercepted Gelli before the green girl reached her sisters. "Gelli," Athena said. "Can I talk to you for a second?"
Gelli looked at her, and Athena recognized the expression in her eyes. It was the expression of someone who tried to stay strong, to keep themselves from breaking down. Gelli had that obligation to her sisters, especially now.
"Don't come with us," Athena said. "Just stay here, in the Realm. We'll uncover the truth, and we'll get Jack back if we can."
Gelli hesitated, then shook her head. "I have to…"
"No," Athena gently said. "You don't. Just stay with your sisters. We can handle things. You don't have to do this."
Gelli didn't respond. She looked at her sisters in the near distance, visibly considering the offer.
"We won't think less of you if you stay," Athena said. "You have an obligation to your sisters. We'll handle Jack."
"Besides," someone said, "it's best if our group isn't too big." Mystia approached, accompanied by Sylvia. The mob looked downcast, but didn't resist as the witch pushed her forward, away from the crowd. "Sylvia should stay too," Mystia continued. "I've changed my mind; we don't all have to go. If some of us would go to those backup locations I mentioned, they can prepare things for when we return."
"You said we'd find him together," Sylvia whispered. "You said we'd tell him the truth together."
"Truth?" Kelly asked. She and Ellie had approached. "What truth?"
"It doesn't matter," Mystia quickly said. Athena immediately felt suspicion at that, but she kept quiet. "Sylvia helped form the plan, and now she'll help by readying the Caverns of Kninth for our return."
"You can't do this…" Sylvia whispered.
"I have to," Mystia said. She looked sharply at Athena. "What about Yaebi?"
Athena hesitated.
"Why're you doing this!" Sylvia cried. "You said I wouldn't get in the way! The more people, the better. You said that!"
"You've done your part," Mystia snapped. "If you go with us, then you will get in the way!"
Athena stepped forward and pushed Mystia away from Sylvia. "I think you made your point, Mystia."
The witch sighed. "Sylvia, I…"
Sylvia shook her head, then turned around and ran away.
Athena looked to Mystia. The witch hesitated, watching Sylvia go. Then she slowly walked back to the group, her gaze downcast.
Athena sighed, then turned to Gelli. "Stay with your sisters, Gelli. Stay with Sylvia and whoever else won't come with us to Ironhand."
Gelli nodded, looking a little relieved. "Who will that be?" she finally asked.
"I have a few people in mind," Athena said, glancing to the group. "And they'll need you. Mystia told me about the Caverns of Kninth; the way there isn't nearly as dangerous as Ironhand, but your powers might come in handy in a possible fight. I need you to guard them."
Gelli swallowed and nodded.
Athena turned to the group and took a moment to think. "Yaebi," she finally said. "Cupa. Come here for a moment."
Jack crossed the narrow bridge—trying to ignore the searing heat of the blue lava below him—and opened the door.
The space beyond was dark. He saw a long, somewhat narrow hallway with a high ceiling, with glowstone chunks embedded into the stone walls. It reminded him of the hallway before the prison's entrance, but made of a darker stone. Ironically, he could see farther ahead, as the black fog from the entrance hallway was absent here.
On the other side of the hallway, he could faintly make out two turns—one directly to the left, and one to the right.
His shoulders dropped. He'd checked the room with the monsters thoroughly enough to know that there was no other way, but he really wasn't looking forward to walking around in some dark maze.
Something caught his eye. He looked down to the small blue lake of lava. He did a double take, frowning.
Then he realized what he was seeing.
The lava's surface had risen. Barely ten minutes ago, it'd been at least a meter or two below the bridge. Now it was little more than a foot.
He let out a shaky breath. "No other way to go," he muttered as he turned to the dark hallway. "No other way, no other way…"
And now I'm talking to myself, he thought. I thought I was used to being alone. At least the pain from that fight got a little better.
He stepped through the door. He slowly advanced through the hallway, his hands risen defensively, trying to brace himself for anything that might jump out at him. Nothing happened.
Then the door behind him slammed shut.
He looked back. The door completely blocked out the blue lava's light. All he had now were the shards of glowstone in the dark walls. Either Áhýdan or Herobrine had made sure he wouldn't return to the previous room, for some reason. "Asshole," Jack muttered.
He continued forward. When he reached the T-shaped junction, he carefully peeked around the corners and into the hallways.
Nothing. Nothing but dark hallways with multiple junctions, barely visible in the dim light.
Left or right.
Right is always the right way, I guess.
He rolled his eyes at the pun he'd made not too long ago when he, Andr and Cupa were exploring a cave in the Overworld. It only later turned out that the cave was home to a group of mobs—Athena's group, in fact. Felt like ages ago.
Deciding to honor his own statement, he turned to the right hallway and went ahead. More entrances to other hallways lined the walls.
He walked by them and gave each a glance. No differences between them, as far as he could tell. There were no signs, no abnormalities that indicated where he should go. Even the level of light looked just about the same.
Eventually he picked a hallway and entered it. There was no way that this was the correct one, but making correct choices was impossible here anyway. Twists, turns, intersections, hallway after hallway…
He walked and walked.
It took about an hour of aimlessly wandering around until he saw an exit.
He gasped and ran for it. The exit was almost as dark as the hallways itself, but it was light enough for him to see. "Don't close. Don't close. Don't close…"
He reached it and left the maze. The black stone floor beneath his feet was replaced by soft earth. A dark night sky revealed itself.
He was outside.
That had been too easy, he soon realized. There was no chance he'd made it out of that maze on his own. There had to be something to it—something that had helped him, or something he'd done without realizing.
He then remembered what Minerva had told him. The second Trial—the Trial of Determination. Maybe all he'd done to pass it was push through. Continue, despite knowing that getting out of the gigantic maze was next to impossible.
He turned back to the maze. The exit had soundlessly closed off—something that had been happening a lot in this place. All that was left was a dark wall that formed a gigantic ring around the area ahead, almost like the wall that surrounded the Fallen Realm. Only this area was even bigger, and the smooth, static, notably shorter wall looked more like something that'd been built, rather than a natural marvel.
Not to mention, the buildings in this area weren't in nearly as much disrepair as the occasional ruin that dotted the Realm.
Jack frowned upon seeing the village. A few of the Overworld's equivalent to streetlights allowed him to spot it, but none of the buildings had any lights themselves. Even from that distance, Jack noticed that some buildings were damaged.
That village was the only thing worth noting. There wasn't anything else here.
At least I know where to go, he sardonically thought.
He started walking. As he got closer to the village, he slowly began to realize that there was a familiar feel to it. He frowned. How could it look familiar? The buildings that once stood in the Fallen Realm were just that—fallen. Destroyed. The only other village he'd been to was—
He slowed his pace and narrowed his eyes. The town before him was Ironhand, albeit a damaged, deserted version of it. The pungent smell that hung in the air was disgusting, and he had to resist the urge to gag the moment it hit him.
"Ugh…" he muttered. What is that? Smells like…
Then he saw the bodies.
Burnt, bloodied, mutilated corpses, lying on the ground or sitting against walls. Most had weapons in their hands or lying next to them, caked with dried blood and flesh.
Now the smell finally made sense.
Jack froze. He exhaled shakily.
Whatever food was still in his stomach began to crawl back up. He gasped, then bent forward and threw up. The vomit's stench, disgusting as it was, was insignificant, impotent, borderline comforting compared to the corpses'. Jack fell to his knees and continued vomiting until his stomach was almost completely empty.
Only then did he look up, slowly, not wanting to face the horrors before him. No, this wasn't Ironhand—this was even worse. This was…
He sat there for a while. Then, feeling sick, he sluggishly stood up and reluctantly entered the village. He was soon met with more bodies. More stench. More silence. His growing fear of what was going to happen made him even more sick. He constantly watched his back, peeked around every corner of every building before passing it, stayed as close to the streetlights as possible. As if they could protect him.
Despite his sickness, he remembered again what Minerva had told him. This was the Trial of Determination. He'd shown enough resolve to get through the maze, and now he had to pass…this…in order to get to the crystal. But after everything he'd heard about Áhýdan, and after everything he'd been through in the Trial of the Body, he doubted the creature would try to stop him with just some bad smells.
Jack passed one of the many burnt buildings. He recognized it—it was Raulyn's house. Its owner's dead body lay in front of it, surrounded by several others—Jack recognized Andrew the innkeeper among them, his eyes empty and cold. Had the people here fought to the death? Jack reckoned Raulyn could take quite a few of them down before being killed himself. The Hunter wasn't much older than him, but had quite a reputation.
He wanted to look away, but something about the scene made him do a double take. He narrowed his eyes and—reluctantly—took a step towards the corpses.
No—they didn't fight each other to the death. Each body had an enormous cut in it. He doubted any of the weapons they held could cause that kind of damage—at least not easily. They'd fought alongside each other against…someone. Or something.
Jack looked around quickly, as if expecting to see where this enemy was. He saw nothing, of course. This wasn't really Raulyn—there was no way Áhýdan had enough influence on the Overworld to decimate an entire village and then bring it here. These corpses had to be copies, or maybe some illusion meant to scare him.
Right?
He continued walking, slowly but surely getting used to the stench. As he passed what was once the church, he noticed Christine sitting against it, slumped forward. Her face was hidden. He sighed. He really doubted any of this was real, but Christine had helped him. Seeing her like this—
An explosion sounded in the distance.
Jack flinched and looked to where it came from. He couldn't see between the buildings, but he noticed a plume of smoke rising in the air, vaguely illuminated by a light below it.
Something had caught fire. Something in Ironhand.
Jack froze momentarily, unsure of what to do. The whole town had suffered a fire. Maybe some remaining flames had reached a barrel of oil somewhere. Even so, it was probably safer to stay away from it.
He took one more look at the surrounding bodies.
Then he noticed that Christine had turned her gaze up to look at him.
Jack gasped and stumbled back. Christine's eyes were still dead, but from behind her messy and bloodied hair, they looked right into his. Wide. Lifeless.
"I have heard rumors," Christine spoke. Her voice was oddly calm and clear. Unstrained, as if she was holding a normal conversation. "Of forces dwelling in the Nether—forces more powerful and dangerous than any normal man or mob could ever be."
That was exactly what she'd said in the Overworld. When she told Jack where the Nether portal was.
Another explosion sounded. Jack flinched and glanced away for only a second. When he looked back, Christine had reverted to her slumped position, unmoving. Jack kept looking at her for a while, shocked. The priestess didn't move or speak again. It was as quiet as before.
Then Jack realized something. Áhýdan had found out about his conversation with her. How? Was Áhýdan already present enough in the Overworld to see and hear some things? Or was he looking directly into Jack's memories? Jack wasn't sure how limited creatures like Áhýdan were in their abilities, and he had little understanding of how those abilities worked. If Áhýdan did have some presence in the Overworld…
Maybe the chances of him reaching his goal are bigger than Herobrine thought.
There stood a figure.
Jack froze. That figure… It was a man. A tall man. He stood in the shadows, but the dim light was enough to illuminate a brown brigandine. The figure's muscular arms weren't covered, and neither was his head. Short dark hair, cut down to the scalp. An enormous two-handed sword sat in his hand, the flat of the blade resting on his shoulder.
Even in that darkness, even after all this time, Jack recognized the figure…but that couldn't be possible. He'd seen the man in the real Ironhand. He remembered mistaking that brigandine for studded leather armor. This man— No, this man's copy here should be dead like everyone else. Why wasn't he?
Only after a while did Jack recover his voice. "Drake…?" he shakily said.
The tall Hunter stepped further into the light of a nearby lamp.
It was him. Drake, the eldest of the three Hunters Jack met during his time in Ironhand. A broad-shouldered, muscular man, almost as tall as Andr.
Drake let his sword's blade slide off his shoulder and casually held it in one hand so the blade hovered above the ground. The weapon was even taller than he was, yet he held it without visible strain.
"To think," Drake slowly said, "it has only been mere weeks since we last met. More recent still since Áhýdan brought me here." He paused, glaring at Jack. "I know that mobs tend to be…convincing. Still, we have never excused such treachery before, unwitting as it may have been. Even Tristan was not spared."
Tristan? Jack thought. What is he talking about?
"I should not blame you," Drake said. "You cannot help yourself—the mobs tricked you both, and so you turned against us. But you are not the first one that they fooled, and any other sympathizers the Hunters crossed paths with have thus far been killed. Tristan was the last one I personally met."
Jack hesitated. He was about ready to run away, but he stood his ground for now. "Tristan…?" he weakly asked. "You're-you're saying Tristan…defected?"
"Because of you. Tristan intended to join you. I could not let him—bringing weapons and supplies to mobs is no different from throwing oil on a forest fire." He clenched his fist. "But, of course, battles do not always have a victor."
"You killed each other," Jack whispered.
"Yes. He challenged the Hunters' view on mobs, and so I challenged him."
"You challenged him…" He exhaled. "He was your friend, and you just…"
Drake let out a bitter chuckle. "You of all people cannot lecture me on betraying friends, Snyder. You are guilty of it yourself."
"Tristan was never my friend," Jack said. "And unlike you, I let him live."
That last part came out before he could stop it.
Drake's smirk fell. For a moment, he just glared at Jack. Jack looked back, frozen.
Then the Hunter raised his sword to his shoulder again, still not showing any signs of strain. "Áhýdan saved me, but he had…one condition. One task to do before he lets me go back to the Overworld."
"He won't," Jack tried, but Drake ignored him.
"I think you know what it is," Drake said. "He wants your head. And I will hand it to him."
Then he started walking towards Jack.
Jack froze.
Then, without hesitation, he turned around and ran, not caring where he was going. Fighting a man with a greatsword was stupidity, especially when that man was a trained killer. Jack heard an amused laugh erupt from the Hunter behind him. The laugh faded quickly; Drake wasn't even trying to keep up.
Ironhand, fake or real, was still a nightmare.
He dashed past numerous houses, hearing Drake's laughter fade more and more as he ran farther away. He only stopped when it was completely gone. He relaxed a bit and leaned against one of the nearby buildings, his head spinning.
Are Drake and Tristan really dead? he wondered. Did they really die because of me? Or is Áhýdan messing around? If it's that last thing, he's doing a good job.
He looked around, trying to orient himself. He was at a T-shaped intersection, the roads were lined with houses. He didn't explicitly remember this part of Ironhand.
Something caught his eye. A familiar figure stood in the near distance. Jack gasped and stumbled back.
"Fool," Drake growled. "Áhýdan has bound me to the crystal, and no lesser man or mob can damage it. You cannot win."
As he advanced, Jack backed off. Drake was bound to the crystal? Was that why he could hold a giant sword with one hand, and how he caught up to Jack so easily?
Destroy the crystal, it flashed through Jack's mind. Destroy the crystal, and he'll die. Probably.
Something between two houses to Drake's right caught the Hunter's eye. He froze. "No…"
Then a massive fiery explosion erupted from where he stood.
The silence was broken by the explosion's loud boom. Jack covered his face.
Shocked, he looked to where Drake had stood. The Hunter was gone. The buildings nearby had suffered even more damage, and some wooden walls had caught fire.
"What…!" he whispered.
Another figure floated into view from the houses Drake had looked at. A white dress, hovering above the ground. A ghost…!?
No. Not a ghost—a ghast.
Charlotte looked around cautiously. She saw Jack, and she floated towards him. "Jack! Thank goodness…"
Jack exhaled shakily. "Thank goodness indeed," he said. "Herobrine brought you here."
She flashed an uncertain smile. "Y-yeah. I-I heard someone laugh, not too long after I got here."
"Drake," Jack said. "Those explosions… That was you?"
She nodded. Her expression dropped. "Jack… This place is terrible. So many dead people…"
"You know where the crystal is?"
She nodded. "It's in a building. One with a lot of weapons."
"Weapons?" Jack paused. "Hunters' headquarters, maybe."
"I tried to destroy it. Nothing worked. When I heard that man, I completely forgot to bring it."
"Let's get it now, then. And let's hurry. Who knows what else Áhýdan has in store for us here."
"What else?!" Drake's voice suddenly boomed.
They looked. Drake had come back. He looked unharmed, but furious as ever.
"I am all he needs to kill you!" Drake bellowed.
Jack was shocked, but not as shocked as he should've been. It actually made sense: Drake had said that he was connected to the crystal. Like Áhýdan, it had effectively made him immortal.
Jack considered grabbing Charlotte and run, but something stopped him. He stepped in front of Charlotte and faced the Hunter. "Drake!" Jack said. "You do realize that if Áhýdan stays alive, he'll turn everything to dust! You're helping him attack the Overworld—and who knows how many worlds will be brought down before he stops!"
Drake snarled. "Is that so? Áhýdan told me a different story."
Should've seen that coming. "Áhýdan will stab you in the back!"
Drake ignored him. He grasped his sword—with two hands, this time—and took a step forward.
Charlotte raised her hands, making Drake stop in his tracks. A mass of fire built up in Charlotte's hands.
To Jack's confusion, Drake stood his ground, the sword held next to his head with the blade pointing upward. The Hunter showed a smirk.
Then Jack realized something. "Charlotte…!" he said. "No!"
Too late. Charlotte launched the fireball towards Drake.
Drake tensed. Then he swung the sword, hitting the fireball. It changed direction.
Right towards Jack and Charlotte.
Charlotte gasped. Jack ran towards her, shoved her out of the fireball's way and dived to the ground. The fireball flew past them and hit a building at the end of the street.
Charlotte—who'd started floating again when Jack pushed her to the side—helped Jack to his feet. "Wh-what…" she stuttered.
"Let's go," Jack said. "Now!"
She nodded, still looking shocked at what just happened. "Th-this way!"
She swiftly flew away. Jack took one last look at Drake, then followed the ghast at a running pace.
Panicked, Charlotte led him past the houses in a zigzag manner. Jack wasn't sure if she was trying to confuse Drake, or if she was heading directly to the crystal, not bothering to take the street. She seemed to remember where it was, at least.
When they were about to enter an alley, Drake suddenly stepped into view from the other side. Charlotte yelped and threw a fireball at one of the houses at the side. It hit the lower half of the wall, and the blast was so powerful that the house collapsed sideways into the alley. Drake cursed as the falling wood and stone buried him.
A brief silence followed. "He can't deflect hits that aren't direct," Jack finally concluded. "Good to know."
"Come on," Charlotte said. "This way."
She led him past the houses and onto a street. "There!" Charlotte said. "That's the one."
Jack looked. Charlotte was pointing to a building near the end of the street. A faint purple light emanated from its windows.
Jack heard cracking and grunting behind him. He turned to look. Near a streetlight in the distance, Drake stumbled out of the rubble in the alley, holding his sword by the ricasso, the hilt before him. He looked unharmed.
Charlotte and Jack shared a glance.
"I-I can hold him off," Charlotte said. "Get the crystal."
"Charlotte…!" Jack said.
"Just go! I'll be fine."
Jack hesitated. "Just don't die," he said. Then he turned and ran to the purple glow.
Behind him, he heard explosion after explosion, buildings collapsing, impacts in the earth. Charlotte couldn't use any direct attacks without Drake deflecting them.
Jack soon reached the building in question. The wall had been destroyed and the interior was charred, but only a few small fires remained. Probably Charlotte's doing. The crystal was placed on a table that just barely still stood.
He glanced at where Charlotte was. She'd flown up a small distance above the ground and was slowly ascending further. Drake dodged most of the rubble from the buildings she destroyed, but he wasn't advancing as fast as he otherwise could've. Charlotte still had to back off though, and it was obvious she couldn't hold the Hunter back forever.
Jack sped into the building, grabbed the crystal and returned. He glimpsed what he recognized as Tristan's body inside. The cut in the former Hunter's torso wasn't as deep as the other bodies', oddly enough.
Once outside, Jack looked at the crystal in his hand. He had it; now he just needed to find a way to destroy it.
He looked to Drake and hesitated.
Drake suddenly leaped directly towards Charlotte, his jump faster and higher than humanly possible. Charlotte yelped and instinctively shot a fireball. Still in mid-air, Drake deflected it back. It hit Charlotte in the chest.
She fell back and out of the air. She slid across the ground, stopping at Jack's feet.
Jack kneeled down next to her and put a finger in her neck. He found a pulse. She was still alive!
She began to glow.
Not long after, particles of light began to flow away from her. Herobrine was taking her away. Drake had frozen, looking at the lightshow with apprehension. Then, like Iris, Charlotte vanished completely. The light died out.
A brief silence. "Hmph," Drake finally said. "I should have expected that. Of course the mob would have an escape plan."
Jack said nothing as he rose to his feet.
"What now?" Drake said. He looked downcast—almost tired. "You know you cannot win. What is your plan?"
Still holding the crystal, Jack just looked at him. Some part of him had calmed down a bit, allowing him to think rationally—and to realize that what he was about to do was absolutely crazy.
Drake advanced. Jack didn't budge. He just looked the former Hunter in the eye. A part of him wanted to run, but another part was oddly calm. Maybe because he never expected to survive anyway.
Drake stopped before him and raised his sword.
Jack's grip on the crystal tightened.
In preparation to strike, Drake briefly pulled his sword back. Of course he was complacent, not even caring if he telegraphed his attack.
Jack suddenly raised the sharp crystal like a weapon and feinted a leap forward. Drake reflexively took a step back and swung, as if attempting to parry and attack at the same time.
Jack backed off as well, still holding the crystal up.
Their weapons collided.
The moment the blade landed, the crystal shattered in a blinding purple light and released a tremor. Jack was blown back and downwards, falling on his back. He slid over the ground, stopping several feet away. Dazed, he looked up.
The tremor had caused Drake's sword to bounce back and out of Drake's grip before it could hit Jack. The Hunter himself hadn't been thrown back, but his stable fighting stance had been visibly compromised. He dropped to his knees, breathing with visible effort.
Still dizzy, Jack felt something akin to a chuckle escape him. "HA!" he cried out in victory. His plan had actually worked! Drake was stronger now than he was in the Overworld, but he still had his reflexes from when he was mortal. That's all Jack had needed.
Ignoring his spinning head, Jack slowly stood up. He approached Drake, who looked up at him with disbelief.
"Almost…every time you talked," Jack said, panting, his voice somewhat gravelly, "you either threatened or blamed me, or you boasted about how powerful you and Áhýdan were with that crystal…and you mentioned that 'lesser' humans and mobs couldn't destroy it." He cracked a smirk. "Since you were bound to that crystal, you…weren't exactly 'lesser'…were you?"
Drake grunted. "You… You killed me…and Áhýdan…?"
"You? I guess. Áhýdan…still has three more to go."
"Three…more…?"
Jack paused. "Crystals."
Drake's eyes widened further. "There were more…? Áhýdan…was bound…to more?"
"Guess he didn't tell you that. Guess he also didn't tell you what his real plan was, with attacking the Overworld and all."
Drake glared. "It is you who—!"
"He pretty much pleaded guilty when I talked to him."
Drake shook his head. "You are lying."
"Why would I lie? Why now? You're already dead."
Drake's glare fell. He remained silent.
"I told you," Jack said. "Áhýdan was planning to stab you in the back from the start. And you fell for it."
Drake looked down, letting out a choked grunt. "Gr… Th…the mob…could not have…" He paused, breathing. "Why…did it help…you…then?"
"Because she didn't want to see me or the Overworld dead," Jack said. "That's why."
"Mobs…care not…for…"
"Yes, because obviously, they've been hunting you all your life for no reason," Jack sardonically said. He kneeled in front of Drake and roughly grabbed the man by the side of the head. Drake looked at him weakly; Jack glared back. "Mobs are evil incarnate, huh? Well, guess what—Áhýdan didn't bring a mob back to life in order to help him survive. Or even a sympathizer like Tristan. Instead, he chose you—a human with no powers to begin with. Why do you think that is?
"Yeah: It's because you're wrong. He used your stubborn view on the world and mobs to manipulate you. He knew you'd be willing to kill me. You killed Tristan—your friend—because he started to doubt his view on things. That was exactly what Áhýdan needed; if you were ready to kill Tristan over something like that, you'd most definitely be ready to kill me and Charlotte too! He just needed to give you some bullshit story to make me and Herobrine look like the villains."
He let go of Drake's head and rose. The Hunter fell over sideways, looking at him shocked with dying eyes. A choked noise escaped him, as if he were trying to talk.
Then he went limp. His eyes spaced out. He was dead again.
Jack looked at the corpse. Little was left of the victory he felt earlier. He'd killed a man—albeit indirectly—and felt…empty. Yes, Drake had tried to kill him, and Jack had tried—and failed—to convince him that Áhýdan was the enemy, but it was still a kill.
His first kill. He'd always heard your first kill was the worst one, no matter the circumstances. He felt regretful, but not nearly as regretful as he expected. Maybe he was still in denial. Maybe his mind just needed to catch up on everything.
Or maybe it's Herobrine's influence, he speculated. He's making me more numb to this… He looked to Drake. This…situation. If there's something he can't use right now, it's my guilt.
He shook his head, breathing heavily. There still was a chance this wasn't the real Drake. Either way, he hoped Charlotte was alright. She was alive when Herobrine took her back to the Nether; Jack hoped he'd healed her as well. If not, the other Nether mobs would have to take care of her.
He took a few minutes to rest. Then he slowly walked to the edge of town. The enormous black stone wall still surrounded it like a ring. Not for the first time, Jack wondered how big the labyrinth he'd passed through earlier really was, if it even still existed.
A part of the wall caught his eye. He squinted.
Streams of blue lava were flowing through a small crack in the wall. It wasn't that fast, but the small pool of lava on the ground wasn't solidifying or dissipating. It'd probably take a while before it reached Ironhand.
Jack planned to be long gone before it did. He began to walk around Ironhand's edge, looking for an exit.
As he walked, he began to wonder how things were at the Realm now. Were his friends even still there? Were they worried? Disappointed that he went through with that foolish plan of his?
And what about Earth? It'd been weeks since he was taken to the Overworld. What would his parents and his siblings think happened to him? Had the police started a search? Probably. What would their thoughts on the matter be? What kind of false evidence did Herobrine leave behind to mislead them, if any? Or did the scene really look like Jack had simply disappeared into thin air?
He saw something at the wall. He couldn't clearly see what it was; it looked like a large square…something. It radiated light. An entrance to something?
If it was an entrance back to the labyrinth, it certainly looked a lot lighter than what Jack saw earlier. He walked over to it. The square turned out to be a broad straight hallway. The floor, walls and ceiling were completely covered with reflective material. Mirrors.
"Oh," Jack muttered, realizing he was talking to himself again. "Hallway of mirrors. Great."
With the mirroring walls opposite of one another, the hallway looked as if it had an infinite number of hallways next to it, separated by glass. The weird thing was the light; it was bright enough to let Jack see everything, but there was no glowstone. No lamps. Just…light.
He looked to the other end of the hallway. It was quite long, but he could tell it ended in a much darker room. Even from that distance, Jack could see the purple glow.
"A hall of mirrors," Jack muttered, "built by a demon. Nothing bad can happen here."
He looked over his shoulder to 'Dead Ironhand'. No blue lava was visible as of yet, but something told him he should hurry anyway. If he was going to have to go back the same way, he didn't want to have to return to a lava lake.
He shook his head, sighing. "Well. Here goes nothing."
He stepped forward.