Chapter 47: A Change in Focus

Ray was awakened by a sharp kick to the stomach. He jerked, clutching it and sitting up with a gasp as he tried to gain his bearings.

He was back in the Nether tunnel, surrounded by dark red stones and uncomfortably warm. The Ender Forge grunts were there as well, standing in a half-circle around where Ray sat against the wall. All of them had donned their robes and masks, so it was difficult to identify anyone other than Jasmine, the sole villager of the group. She was closest to him, and it appeared she'd been the one to kick him awake.

"I must say, I'm impressed. Genesis Cores truly are remarkable, if you can survive against a Wither with one."

He groaned, taking a deep breath. His entire body was sore again, but he didn't think he was dying. Though, based on the hard stares everyone was giving him through their masks, he wondered if his situation was that much better.

"Then… I killed it?" he somehow found the strength to ask.

"You did." Jasmine's mouth curled into a scowl. "You ruined the perfect chance to weaken Granitetown, and to die a hero of the Usurpation."

Ray glared at her. "I wasn't told I'd be dying today. Fornax lied to me. You knew that thing was going to explode in my face, didn't you?"

"All she wanted was to be rid of your bleeding heart," said Dominic. "In assisting us, you were supposed to be killed."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Ray scoffed. That he was helpless and surrounded didn't matter to him very much, not when he suspected his luck had run out anyway. If nothing else, at least he'd stopped the monster from carrying on its rampage.

Jasmine smiled for the briefest moment before drawing a short diamond sword. "Well, you can make it up to us now. Be still."

There was a crunch, and one of her grunts swayed and toppled over with an arrow in the side of his head. Ray tore his gaze away from the body, as did the rest of the Forgers, to see where the shot had come from.

A villager in black armor stood further up the tunnel, a crossbow in one hand and a blue-bladed axe in the other. Ray recognized him from the alley, and now that he was closer he could make out another distinct part of his garb: a bandana, patterned with wide swirls of light green, worn around his neck.

"Nobody can know we were here!" Wallace shrieked, as he and Jasmine backed away. "Kill him!"

By the time Ray could process what was happening, the last of the Ender Forge soldiers fell to the ground with an axe embedded in his chest. Not a single one of them, including the two Senior Forgers, had managed to so much as scratch the armored man as he'd made his way through the group with brutal efficiency. Before long, he was beginning to pile up the dead against the opposite wall of the tunnel.

Ray shifted where he sat, trying to pull himself upright, but the villager turned to him with a sword drawn. "Stay where you are," he snapped. "Or else you're next."

He was in no position to fight back, so he did as told. His eyes didn't leave the pile of bodies. "You… you killed them."

"Ender Forge grunts, including two higher-ups. They've had this coming."

The man's voice was deep, his tone sharp. He didn't even sound shaken by the deaths he'd just caused, nor did he look back at Ray as he carried the last corpse to the heap. It was Dominic, still wearing his black robe which now sported a deep, stained gash. His lifeless eyes met Ray's for a split second before he was dumped on top of his cohorts, and he stifled the urge to vomit.

He took a deep breath and asked, "And now you're going to kill me, aren't you?"

The villager turned to him again, still holding his blue sword but not moving closer to attack. "I'm considering it. That depends on you, Usurper- that is what you are, yes?"

"I…"

Ray paused. Was he a Usurper? He'd heard it from the Forgers; Overseer Fornax had meant for him to die. His growing empathy for the Inlanders had reached a breaking point, and he'd defied the alliance with the Ender Forge to destroy the monster he had unknowingly created. After all of that, could he really still call himself a Usurpation soldier? Would he?

"I'm from the wastes beyond the Inlands," he eventually replied. "I hear you call them the Far Lands. And… I was a Usurper. But now, I… I don't know anymore…"

The man rested the sword against his shoulder. A pair of murky blue eyes, visible through a gap in his helmet, sized Ray up. "The people outside were cheering for you. You saved the day, and stopped Granitetown from being destroyed. But then I find you here, surrounded by Enders, and I can't help but wonder what sort of role you might have played in that disaster."

Ray's stomach twisted at the thought of being celebrated. "They thought I was a hero? But… but it was my fault… so many of them died, and it was because of me…"

"Seems you weren't counting on any of that to happen. Do you know what you just did?"

He looked at the ground. "They told me we'd be making something called a beacon. They never said anything about that monster."

The man snorted and pulled out a gleaming, X-shaped crystal from his inventory. "This is a Nether Star. It's the most important ingredient in building a beacon, and it's only found by creating and killing a Wither. So in a roundabout sort of way, they weren't lying." He chuckled again. "But I bet that doesn't make you feel any better, huh?"

Ray's eyes narrowed. "It doesn't."

A moment passed in silence. The villager picked up his axe and his crossbow, then took a step toward Ray. His sword was still equipped. "A Usurper with a conscience… the stories we've been hearing paint you Far Landers in a much different light."

"How so?"

"Oh, you know. Invaders, raiders, the type of people who would conquer cities without warning, dominate their armed forces… or just maybe skip over the soldiers and put the civilians' lives on the line."

Ray felt ill. He'd done that twice to very large, very populated cities. The sheer anger which he'd just put to use against the Wither had settled down, and he was just disgusted with himself.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked again. His voice dropped to a mutter. "I don't think anyone would blame you for it."

The villager paused. "Well, you've sort of proven the stories correct. The Usurpation is willing to throw in with the Ender Forge and cause further havoc. I bet you're right, nobody would think any less of me for putting you down."

He hung his head. "So be it. If I have to die to make things right, then… then I guess I'll accept that. Just… please make it quick. I killed the monster; have I at least earned that much?"

Ray's question was met with a sharp bark of a laugh. The villager put away his blade. "You really want to atone? I'm sure you can do better than killing a Wither and quietly accepting your execution. What do you think you can do?"

He considered his options. Whatever choice he made would mean abandoning the Usurpation Army's mission, and losing the only sense of belonging he had in the world. His purpose for years had been to help the waste's victims find better lives in the Inlands, where they would finally be safe… could he really give all of that up? It had been what drove him ever since he met-

"Fornax…"

The thought of her made him scowl. She sent agents off to their deaths, seeking the glory and results they could offer. She stayed behind the walls of Incursia with the other leaders while their troops in the field, most of whom were just desperate, starving wanderers from the wastes, were deployed on missions where they might not even have all of the necessary information. She called the lost people from the wastes whom she rallied her "flock," but she'd tried to get Ray killed as soon as she thought he was of no further use.

She embodied everything wrong with the Usurpation, and he'd followed her blindly every step of the way.

Ray, ignoring his sore muscles, got to his feet. "The invasion can't be allowed to continue. I promise to you, not all of us are monsters. We just wanted to escape the wastes, but the Usurpation twisted that wish into something worse. There's going to be an attack on our fortress soon, do you know about it?"

The villager nodded. His arms were folded, and he was watching Ray closely. "Granitetown put out a notice that the militia is being mobilized to join the fight. But I'm guessing what happened today is going to throw a stick into that piston."

"If I can just talk to the Usurpation, I might be able to persuade a lot of the troops to put down their weapons. There must be some of them who don't want needless bloodshed." Already he was thinking of Esme. She was the kindest, most selfless person he knew, and he was sure if he could convince anyone it would be her. "I have to get back to the badlands."

"How are you gonna do that?"

Ray pointed down the tunnel. "This is how I got here with the Ender Forge. It will lead us right to the Usurpation's city. From there, I… I don't know what exactly I'll do. But I need to find a way to communicate with everyone."

"It's a start," the villager replied. "In that case, I'll come with you. We'd better get moving now; the guards will be investigating what happened, and it won't be long before they find the portal hidden in that store. If they find us together, that wouldn't be good."

Ray frowned. "Why would it be a problem for you?"

He received a hard stare. Ray was willing to drop the question, but before he could say anything else the armored stranger slowly removed his helmet. When he saw what was underneath, his heart skipped a beat.

The man's tall head and large nose were standard for his kind, but his complexion revealed he was anything but a typical Inland villager: it was dark gray, almost like stone. A long, jagged scar ran from his forehead over one eye, down to his cheek. He only kept his helmet off for a few seconds before sliding it back on.

"You're… an Illager," Ray said, immediately reminded of the ones he'd fought while pursuing the Bonemeal Core.

"No I'm not," the man replied. "You're a Far Lander- does that make you a Usurper?"

He flinched. "I… see your point. But I've never heard of, um, someone like you living peacefully with the other Inlanders."

"Heh. Neither has anyone else. You're the first person I've shown my face to in a long time, kid. Now, let's get going."

Without waiting for a response, he began to walk down the tunnel. Ray ignored his aching body and followed along, overwhelmed by the day's events but hardening his new resolve. "What's your name, sir?"

"Ulrich. You are?"

"…Ray. I am called Ray. And… thank you for giving me this chance for redemption."

He only hoped it wouldn't be too late when they arrived. For him, or for the other Far Landers.

The sun had just disappeared over the horizon when Celia and her companions finally reached their destination. Cresting one last sandy hill, they found themselves staring at the shape of a vast lake in the middle of the desert, surrounded by faint outlines of trees and shrubbery. Lights dotted the eastern edge of the Scorched Oasis, and in the darkness she could see shapes moving about them.

"We did it!" she announced, willing to ignore how tired she was from the nonstop ride. "We've made it, everyone!"

They may not have reencountered their attacker from the night prior, but the day's travel under the full desert sun had been grueling, and the group was worse for wear. Despite it all, they'd persevered. The long journey from Tenebyss was over.

At Blake's recommendation, they dismounted and led along their horses by hand to avoid suspicion- riders atop skeletal horses emerging from the night wouldn't have made a good first impression on whomever was standing guard. That turned out to be for the best, because a few people in iron armor took aim at the group from the shrubbery with their crossbows. One man yelled at them, "Halt! Who goes there?"

Celia took a step ahead of the others and raised her voice in reply. "Countess of Luxmouth, Celia Lumis! My companions and I have come to meet with Gwendolyn of the Netherrack Network."

A few seconds passed before she got a response. "How many of you are there?"

"Five, as well as three horses."

Another pause. "Approach slowly, and keep your hands where we can see them. We need to verify your identity."

They complied, and once they were close enough a few soldiers peered from behind the trees to inspect them. Sure enough, the sight of their skeletal mounts caused a few to recoil, but nobody opened fire on the group. It wasn't long before they reached the edge of the shrubbery, where Celia could see a distinctive green half-moon design on the guards' chestplates, and she wasn't the only one to recognize it.

"You're all from TOEC!" Melissa exclaimed. "How did you get here?"

The closest man took a step out of cover to see her more clearly. "Miss Beryl? Someone get the boss, quick!"

"Way ahead of you," came a familiar voice behind the guards. Galen emerged from within the trees a moment later, looking much better than he had after being imprisoned. His dark hair had been cut short and parted to the side, and his face wasn't nearly as gaunt as it was the last time they'd met. He wore iron armor as well, brand new by the looks of it. "I'm so glad you're all safe."

Celia knew Melissa to be formal and composed in polite company, but even she was willing to drop it long enough to hug her brother. They parted quickly, and just like that they were all business again. "What are you doing here? Did TOEC decide to send its security personnel after all?"

"Somewhat. The Ender Forge seems to have disappeared from Tenebyss, and rather than wildly chase it through the tunnels we shifted our focus to fortifying the city," he explained. "I worked with the Netherrack Network to transport supplies here for the attack, and I brought volunteers who wanted to join the fight with me, from both TOEC and the city."

Ember was approaching as well, and he grinned when he saw the group. "Hello again. I'm not surprised you showed up in person, Countess."

"What can I say? I do not fear involving myself directly if it means I can help."

Galen stared at the skeletal horses, and Celia could see the multitude of questions running through his head. He must have decided to shelve them for later, because he then looked at Cupa and cracked a smile. "Hey, you're from the Dark Acres, aren't you? It's good to see you again."

"Uh, yeah! Same!" she replied, clearing her throat. "We got your message, and your gifts. Thank you for those, by the way. In return, we've brought a whole bunch of those Genesis Cores for you!"

"They'll go a long way for us if they're as strong as I've heard," Galen said. "Are there any reinforcements from Teras?"

She deflated a little. "I'm sorry. Our town just isn't ready to fight a war like this. The chiefs are doing what they can to train a few warriors, but in the meantime I came with the others by myself."

Celia could tell Galen had been hoping for a different answer, but he didn't let his disappointment show for more than a second. "Well, we appreciate the help you can give us, and those Cores should make up the difference."

"You got here just in time," Ember remarked. "Gwen arrived just a few hours ago with more reinforcements, and she'll be thrilled to see them."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Someone else had emerged from the trees. A very old woman hobbled toward them with a wooden cane, wearing a simple wool tunic and pants which were too stained with dust to even identify their original colors. Her gray hair and wrinkled face made her look old enough to be Celia's great-grandmother, but she still carried herself with an air of confidence and authority, both of which were apparent in her firm, bright green eyes.

"Here they are, Gwen!" said Ember, as he stepped aside to give her space.

Gwendolyn looked over the five of them, her expression neutral. "So you're the ones I've heard about. You've given the Usurpation quite the runaround, haven't you?" Then her eyes landed on Celia, and she bowed. "And you must be the Countess of Luxmouth. It's an honor to meet you."

"T-the honor's all mine! Your Network has done us all a great service, to say nothing of your reputation!"

"We've done what we can. Did I hear you've brought us those magic items?"

"Indeed! We believe they can be put to good use during the attack." Celia placed the shulker box on the ground and twisted open the lid, letting her see the pile of Genesis Cores inside. Gwendolyn peered at them with a hum.

"I'm impressed. There's a few in our forces who have them, but we've never seen so many collected by one group. Against the Usurpation, we'll need as many of our own as we can get."

Celia was expecting her to reach in and pick one up, but Gwendolyn simply closed the box and stepped away. "You all look exhausted. We can speak again in the morning, but for now I'd say you could use a rest. I hope you don't mind a tent, Countess. We might be able to get you a private one."

"I will share a tent with my companions," she said. "I do not wish to waste space for anyone else."

The reply earned Celia a brief nod, as if of approval, from Gwendolyn. "Suit yourself. Jason, bring them to a camp."

"Just follow me," Ember said.

"TOEC's section has a little spare room, Melissa. You can join us if it'd be too cramped," said Galen before they could go anywhere.

To Celia's surprise, yet not at all to her disappointment, Melissa took a step closer to her. "Thank you for the offer, but I want to stay with the others. I think I'm getting used to camping with them."

Galen chuckled. "I'll leave you all to it, then. See you in the morning."

He and Gwendolyn went their separate ways, leaving the group to follow Ember as instructed. "We'll keep your… uh, your horses stabled with some of the others," he told them as they walked into the camp.

It was hard to get a sense of just how many people had answered Gwendolyn's call in the darkness, but the group passed by scores of fighters in armor of varying make and quality as they wandered the oasis' fringe. Most of them were much older than their little party, men and women well into adulthood who looked like they'd seen years of experience in battle already. Though the encampment was quiet, she could feel a palpable anxiety in the air, and as Celia observed those around her a sense of discomfort crept in.

Ember led them through the trees and to the edge of the lake itself, beside which row after row of wool tents had been established. Even more people were milling about, but the group was able to stick together until they came to a stop by a gray tent in the middle of it all.

"There should be room for the five of you in here," Ember explained. "You can find facilities for washing up, crafting, smelting, whatever you need nearby. Feel free to use anything, and if you have any questions you can come to me or the other Network members. I'll come find you all in the morning when Gwen's ready to see you."

He departed, and then it was just the five of them again. As they made their way into the tent (barebones, with just a chest and a few beds inside), Cupa spoke up. "Guess that's the end of my first adventure. Thanks again for bringing me along, everyone."

"It feels good to get out, doesn't it?" Blake asked her. "It's been a… bumpy ride here and there, but I'm glad we could help you see the world a little."

"And there is so much more I wish to show you when the war is over," added Celia. "In the meantime, it appears we are free to spend the evening as we wish."

She set the shulker box in the corner of the tent for everyone to use. Items in her inventory took up no weight, yet finally getting to put it down and not having to worry about bandits attacking in the night had made the box feel heavy. It had become a discomfort, one matched by her sudden perception of just how filthy the group was after their trek from the Dark Acres: dust and sand were all over them, especially noticeable on her marble white dress. "Now, I don't know about you all, but I'm going to find somewhere to freshen up."

Felix couldn't sleep.

It must have been the middle of the night. Most of Gwendolyn's assembled forces appeared to have turned in, for he could only hear a few people milling quietly about outside the group's tent. His friends were all asleep as well, enjoying a good rest at last after everything they'd been through over the last few days. As much as Felix wanted to do the same (he was exhausted, and running on fumes), he was too curious to relax.

He had to know something.

Crawling out of bed, he crept across the tent to the corner where Celia had placed the shulker box. Her bed was closest to it, but she didn't stir when he picked it up. He was careful not to tread too heavily as he carried it outside.

It was another cold, dark night in the Scorched Sands, and nobody else was out by the neighboring tents. That left Felix with some privacy to sit by the flap of their own and open the shulker box to look inside. Neatly arranged next to their stacks of assorted supplies were the group's collected Genesis Cores, glowing purple and yellow like usual. He reached in and grabbed a purple one, bracing himself for the strange flash of voices, but nothing happened. On the contrary, he thought he felt a hint of familiarity from it.

"This must be the Diamond Core, if it's not showing me anything new."

Felix put it away in his inventory and reached for another purple one. This time, he got what he'd expected.

"Buildings, homes… this place has been settled, it would seem."

"What will we do when everyone else gets here?"

The otherworldly-sounding speakers were back, and both were male again. He recognized the former voice as Steve's, minus his aggressively condescending tone. Felix put away that Core as well and picked up a third, this one yellow.

"Stay still, traitor!"

"You just had to throw it all away, didn't you?!"

They were fighting again, though about what he couldn't tell. Felix tried a few more Cores, and each would make him envision a brief exchange about the environment, or snippets from whatever conflict had arisen, but never with enough context to make it clear what they were trying to tell him. It wasn't until he grabbed one of the last yellow Cores that something noteworthy came up.

"That's enough. You have almost nothing left, and it is pointless to continue this. You are breaking."

"Damn… you…!" he heard Steve groan. "You're just as worn down, don't try to hide it!"

It still wasn't clear what was actually happening, but the exchange made Felix's heart speed up as a theory tugged at his mind. With a shaky hand, he reached into the box for the yellow Core at the very bottom of the pile.

When his fingers brushed against it, his head threatened to split open in pain. He recoiled with a gasp. The headache was gone in an instant, but he swore he could still feel the voice lashing out. It was only one of the pair, and it wasn't Steve's. This Core, Felix deduced, was the mysterious "human" one Blake had bound to himself, but there was no trace of the sobbing or profuse apologizing. What he actually heard from it was even more unsettling.

Felix sat there, staring at the Core at the bottom of the shulker box as his mind raced. About a minute later, he deposited all of the Cores back inside and entered the tent again. Still careful not to disturb anyone's slumber, he returned the box and got back into bed, knowing full well he wouldn't get any sleep whatsoever. He would spend the night thinking of what to tell his friends in the morning, and of how to explain his thought process.

Because he'd realized the truth about the Genesis Cores.