AN: Happy 2023 everybody!

It's a fresh new year, so we're turning to a fresh new story perspective. We haven't seen the Endward Cult lately, so here's a peek at what they're doing.

Saw a couple of movies over the last two weeks. Avatar 2 and Puss in Boots 2. Puss in Boots 2 was better and I highly recommend as best animated movie, but you just gotta support my boi James Cameron for bringing us Terminator, Terminator 2, Aliens, and Titanic.

...No, I'm not being sponsored to say any of this.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Minecraft. If I did, I'd make Suspicious Stew effect durations last more than ten seconds. I mean really.

Chapter 227

Trailblazer

[Eastern Division HQ: Unknown]

A male cultist stood in a room cast in darkness. His body trembled in equal parts excitement and anxiety. He shook his hands out as he awaited instructions.

He wasn't about to back out. Not when he had volunteered for this procedure. He had been told all the risks, and the promise of power was too tantalizing to pass up. He was otherwise a nameless grunt in the Eastern Division, but with this, he might just become as powerful as Lieutenant Larkspur.

There was a mechanical shifting of solid blocks before the ceiling opened up and a series of redstone lamps flicked on. The room became flooded with light, and even under a glass ceiling and a layer of seawater, the outline of the New Moon was in visible contrast with the night sky.

There was a crackle of noise from a speaking tube. "Beginning Hybridization Test designated H-001. The time is almost midnight, November 29th. The New Moon is nearly in optimal position." The cultist in the center turned upon the ritual circle comprised of a cauldron full of water, a jukebox, and the redstone dust arranged in an eye pattern. "Test Subject Salvatore_Caraway, please insert the cursed disc into the jukebox, then proceed to deposit the materia. You can find the aforementioned items in the nearby chest. Quickly now. Time is of the essence."

Salvatore didn't quite like being referred to as a test subject, but he supposed that was just the scientific jargon the cult's eggheads used to sound important. Recalling the briefing, the cultist withdrew the cursed disc containing '11' and inserted it into the jukebox beneath the cauldron. The eerie tune began to play just as the new moon got into position. In the cauldron, the surface of the water began to light up with a pearly glow. Salvatore allowed himself a moment of awe at the phenomenon before throwing the Heads - the materia - into the cauldron in great heaps. He didn't count the Heads, instead trusting that the people behind this put the right number of Heads in the chest.

A double chest only held fifty-four slots for items, and Heads could never stack given that they each had a unique name. Therefore, to fit one-thousand Heads into the double chest, Pocket Boxes had to be utilized. Thirty-eight Pocket Boxes, each one filled to the brim with Heads. It would take more - ten-thousand - to become a Boss Hybrid. Salvatore's first pick was a Wither Hybrid, but Abyssmal vetoed it, stating those were for the big boys.

More and more Heads were added to the cauldron - more than it had any right to hold - and yet it never overflowed. If anything, it only made the water glow brighter and reflect the New Moon hanging overhead. Each Head offered was an existence the Endward Cult liberated from Minecraftia.

At last, when one-thousand Heads were added, Salvatore added the finishing touch. The piece of Mob DNA that would initiate the Hybridization: a Ghast Tear.

It looked so small in his hand, yet it would become the catalyst that would change him forever. He tossed it into the cauldron before clambering onto the edges and lowering himself in after it. The cauldron was more spacious than it had any right to be, swallowing him up fully as his head broke the pearly surface of the water.

There was a moment of silence before the water exploded outwards as something too big to fit the cauldron ballooned outward in an expansion of matter. Something large with pale, gossamer skin emerged.

Salvatore opened eyes that were once blue, but were now red. His black hair was now dyed a paper white. His skin was several shades paler. He was larger too. Thirty feet tall, his hands large enough to hold a Crafter. His clothes and skin seemed to have merged together into some translucent veil, though his backpack and belt were gone in favor of a tattered cape that trailed down his back in nine ribbons that moved and swayed like prehensile tails. His arms no longer had tattoos to indicate his Hunger, his Health, or his EXP, and the name above his Head - Salvatore_Caraway - was no more.

He was a Ghast Hybrid now.

Salvatore held his pale hands up before his eyes, and unknowingly made his nine cape tails do the same. He started at the extra limbs, the tails going rigid in response to his fear. They were his limbs now and behaved according to his will. He practiced waving them back and forth. They responded to his thoughts much like his arms and legs.

The speaking tube crackled to life. "Salvatore_Caraway. Do you know who you are? Do you remember where you are?"

Salvatore felt a rise of annoyance at that irksome voice before he calmed himself and nodded. "Yes. I'm still me. I remember everything about how I joined the Endward Cult and which subdivision I'm in."

Tilting his head up, Salvatore watched the New Moon slide out of view from the glass ceiling. The pearly surface of the cauldron's water dimmed until it was back to being regular water. The window of opportunity for the Hybridization ritual had passed.

"Do you feel any different? Can you describe your sensations?"

"Well, I can suddenly feel things with these ribbon coattails I got going on, does that count?" The cultist waved the nine tails to prove a point, his fingers coming up to rub the material and gasp at the feeling of touch. He felt everything the tails touched. They were a part of him.

"Astounding! Ghasts are known to have nine tentacles. For you, it seems they've become extraneous limbs. Try demonstrating some potential Ghast abilities."

"Don't boss me around." Salvatore shot back, an unusual amount of temper leaking through. He wasn't normally so quick to anger, but for some reason he felt a foreign sense of aggression towards the eggheads behind the walls. He felt the urge to give them a scare.

Salvatore straightened his neck out and forced out his diaphragm like he was loosing a burp. Nothing happened. He then tried coughing, forcefully trying to expel a fireball like Ghasts do. Still nothing.

He glared at the wall with his red eyes, desperately wanting to destroy it. He inhaled deeply through his nose, his throat muscles flexing and closing to emit a nasally snoring sound like he was trying to hock up phlegm clogging his airway. He felt a warmth build in his chest. It grew hotter and hotter before he spat it out his mouth.

The flaming orb resembling a fire charge shot out of the Hybrid's mouth and detonated against the stone brick wall, demolishing a portion of it and revealing the startled and awestruck faces of the scientists observing the test. A few bricks were set ablaze, though it was a small fire that quickly extinguished itself.

"Salvatore! Do not-" The cultist observer stopped speaking through the speaking tube when he registered the hole in the wall and thought better. He stepped away from the tube and readressed the Hybrid through the hole. "Salvatore, do not destroy the observation station. Direct your firepower at the fortified targets-"

"You think doing this is easy?" The cultist shot back, his giant body towering over the observer and his tentacles lashing behind him. "Cut me some slack! I'd like to see you spit up fireballs for the first time with perfect aim!"

The observer frowned before jotting something down in a notebook. "...subject exhibits increased aggression..."

Salvatore spun around, his tentacles whipping behind him and leaving great gouges in the stone wall. The observer shielded his head before backing away cautiously.

"Careful, Salvatore!" Another observer complained. "Mind your size! Subject appears to have grown to size proportional to the Mob he Hybridized into." He muttered aloud while jotting it down. "From the notes our Executive shared about the Magma Cube Hybrid, it seems all Hybrids take on the size of the Mob they model after. Nametag has vanished, as expected..."

The observer trailed off as the Ghast Hybrid bent his legs and shoved all nine of his tentacles against the floor before propelling himself into the air. The room, while large, was not equipped for a Hybrid of his size, and Salvatore's head crashed through the glass ceiling, demolishing it. Subsequently, the room started taking on water.

"Dear Herobrine! Close the ceiling! Quickly!"

An observer lunged for the lever to close off the retractable ceiling only to be swept aside by seawater. The same water swept away the levers and buttons operating all the redstone devices. The lights flickered out and left the observers to swim and thrash about in utter darkness.

Meanwhile, the Ghast Hybrid had broken the surface of the ocean, his large body rising further as he floated on air. Ghasts, after all, could fly. Higher and higher he went, his tentacles twitching around him as he grasped flight. It was like learning to swim all over again.

Salvatore turned his pale body left and right as it floated through the night sky. His crimson eyes zeroed in on the distant lights of Oak Docks. The wooden homes and structures built on floating docks, the canals further in, and the peninsula even further than that. It was the closest community of Crafters, and the Hybrid felt the newfound urge to kill taking over. The giant wailed like a Ghast before floating slowly towards the Kingdom.

Someone else broke the surface of the water. Executive Abyssmal wiped the hair out of his eye before pulling back on his prized Power V bow and launching an arrow. It flew fast and struck the Hybrid's larger body easily. He was just about to fire another when the creature that used to be Salvatore_Caraway fell over in midair and fizzled away into oblivion. Abyssmal saw a Head fall away, and then watched from a distance as it imploded in the water without a trace.

That was close. Abyssmal thought. Salvatore almost gave away our base.

The Executive had no choice, though. If Sal couldn't follow orders as a Hybrid, he was of little use to the cult. What a wash.

Swimming in the water, Abyssmal frowned as he looked to where the Hybrid died. Usually, it took two hits with his Power V bow to kill immediately. Power V usually did seven-and-a-half Hearts of damage. A Crafter had ten. So unless he dealt a critical hit - which he didn't - the Hybrid should have lived.

However, if the Hybrid had a Ghast's amount of Health...

"Shoulda picked a hardier Mob." He surmised. "Ah well. Better him the test dummy than Teal. Now how is the slime girl fighting her urges...?"

[Eastern Division HQ: Guest Dwellings]

Spring was apologetic and meek as he sat before his partner and mentor, Parallel_Parker. His hands were clasped together and held between his knees under Parker's critical glare.

Ember had advised him to keep a low profile until the official announcement of his return was made public. The consensus perception was that Spring robbed from the Head Depository alongside the Magma Cube Hybrid and was considered a traitor to be killed on sight. Obviously, Spring couldn't go wandering around the HQ with that kind of reputation until the Executives set the record straight. That is, that Spring redeemed himself by building an operational Wither Skull Grinder with KillGore, and that he would be dueling 4Blite to the death for the coveted position of Southern Executive. Carmen's inclusion would be announced much later, after Hybrids became more prevalent in the cult's forces. Until they were accepted, they would be shunned as abominations. The news had to be broken delicately lest blood be spilled.

In spite of Ember's advice, Spring couldn't help but seek out Parker so as to break the news first. The guy was the closest thing to a mentor Spring had. The man took him under his wing when he first joined the Northern Division, and the two had hunted many a Crafter together. They were partners and friends.

Or at least, they used to be...

"Okay." Parker acknowledged he had at least been listening to Spring's words, but he was still far from welcoming to the idea. "So, what? Everything's just swept under the rug because you and the pip-squeak have a Wither generator going?"

"Guy may be a pip-squeak, but he can sure as hell fold either of us in half." Spring countered. He wasn't about to let people belittle KillGore after all they did together. "And this is hardly sweeping things under the rug. I gotta fight 4Blite or die trying."

"Still seems like you're getting off the hook too easy." Parker frowned. "You stole from the Depository. You collaborated with that monster-"

"Don't call her a monster." Spring warned lowly. "She's a friend, and she's much in the same boat as me."

"What even is this?" Parker snapped. "How can you defend that thing when it killed several cultists!"

"Killed or liberated?" Spring asked pointedly. "Or are we just using that convenient excuse when we do it."

"All I know is that those guys wouldn't have wanted to depart this world in such a pointless way." Parker asserted with folded arms. "Can you just think about how this sounds for a second? You get kidnapped by some giga lava girl, and then you wind up helping her find her husband? You rob from the people who took you in, and then you have the gall to come crawling back asking for forgiveness? What did that lava girl say to make you crumble so easily?"

"Her life was ruined. All she wanted was a bit of light back. You saying I should have left her to suffer?"

"I'm not buying any Stockholm Syndrome today, thank you!"

Spring let out an internal growl. "Isn't the cult's purpose to end suffering? We 'liberate' people from this awful world so as to send them to a better one. So me helping Carmen was in line with what we're trying to do! I was helping her through her suffering-"

"Why didn't you just kill her?" Parker countered. "You had your chance, you could have just ended her, but instead you encouraged her hopeless dreams without once thinking what it would do to your comrades, or how it would reflect on any of us. Didn't I teach you better than this? Is this how you repay me? Siding with an abomination over your own partner and mentor? Is that how little I mean to you?"

Spring closed his eyes, his posture slouching in his chair as he ran a hand over his face. He didn't want to be grilled like this when he was already under pressure for his upcoming fight with 4Blite. He came here looking for unconditional support from his mentor and friend. Maybe even affirmation that he did nothing wrong. Not this.

"Maybe this is something you, or Ember, or anyone else in the cult will never understand," Spring leaned forward, unwilling to shy away any longer, "but can you accept that I did what I thought was right?"

Parker tried to hold his gaze, but after a few seconds found it swiveling to the floor. They were unable to see eye to eye on this.

Spring scoffed. "You know what, I don't know why I came here first. I don't have time for this. I've got some real serious shit going on." He slapped his knees before shooting out of his seat and going for the door in one fluid motion. "Sorry for troubling you with my baggage. I'll see ya around, Park."

He exited the dwelling and slammed the door shut before marching off, his mind a furious storm of thoughts.

So much for gathering allies. Spring lamented as he trudged back to his temporary residence. After he returned the Heads he 'borrowed', Ember and Abyssmal had allowed him and Carmen a room in the most remote wing of the Eastern HQ - an ideal place to lay low. It was rarely visited and saw zero traffic, being at a dead end.

As such, Spring hurried to his temporary domicile straight away. He didn't want to linger and get caught.

Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. A pair of cultists exited their rooms a few hallways after he had stormed out on Parker. They spotted him immediately and he stifled a curse.

"...Ah! It's him!" One cultist, a female, pointed at Spring before pulling out a sword. "It's the traitorous Head thief!"

"Sound the alarm and get Lieutenant Teal over here!"

"No, no, no! Don't do that!" Spring took a step back, his hands waving wildly before him. "Th-There's a misunder-AGH!" He recoiled as an arrow sunk into his shoulder.

"Let's kill him ourselves! We can take him!" The male smirked as he pulled another arrow taut.

Spring grimaced and was about to draw his sword when...

"What's going on?" A tired voice called. Spring whirled and felt his spirits plummet when he saw MarkAble approach.

A Lieutenant. Just his luck. Why couldn't it have been Ember or Abyssmal?

Spring had seen Lieutenant MarkAble on a number of occasions in his time with the Cult. It was always at a distance, either at the Gathering or while he was scoping out KillGore. He didn't leave an impression then and he didn't now. MarkAble, or Mark as he was called, was an unimpressive background character. If you put him in a lineup of cult grunts, you'd never be able to pick him as the Lieutenant of the bunch. He looked tired and weary (which made sense seeing as he dealt with his exhausting fellow Lieutenant, Teal). He had magenta hair - the most striking thing about him - with curtain bangs at the front and neck length hair at the back. He had dead, dark gray eyes, a simple black and magenta shirt, light blue jeans, magenta backpack and belt with potions hanging off it, and black and white dress shoes. He looked like a casually dressed, perpetually depressed accountant.

And shockingly, he was Teal's lover. Not sure how that came about, though rumor had it that MarkAble was the only man to have won Teal's deadly Survival Games.

"Lieutenant!" The female cultist exclaimed, her finger pointing at Spring. "It's the traitor, Spring! Splash him, hurry!"

Mark's dark gray eyes roved the three of them, Spring's legs tensing as he expected a Potion of Slowness or Weakness to be thrown at him.

Instead, the Lieutenant shook his head. "He's not a traitor. There's been some extenuating circumstances. Though I consider them more like escalating circumstances." He scratched his head. "Anyway, sheathe your weapons. He's got a pass."

"What? Why? How?"

"He robbed the Northern Division!"

"I'm telling you to drop it. It's no longer your concern." He sighed as he stepped forward, one hand reaching out to grab Spring's arm and shift it away from his sword handle. "Listen. There's going to be an announcement later in the week explaining everything. The Executives gave the okay on this. For now, consider Spring on a probation of sorts. Though he was told to avoid leaving his room."

Spring began to relax his grip and let go of his sword. It looked like the Lieutenant had been briefed on his situation, likely by Avyssmal. He allowed Mark to explain things to the two confused and amped up cultists.

"Lieutenant, sir. Witnesses saw him collude with that gigantic monster. He stole Heads-"

"Those Heads have since been returned, and Spring_Fever will be facing punishment." Mark assured, his hand sliding up and gripping Spring by the upper arm. "Just leave him to me and keep this to yourself. You can take it up with Abyssmal on your own time if you want a better explanation, but understand this matter must be treated with the utmost discretion." His gaze hardened. "I don't want to hear any rumors circulating. Spring is allowed to be here, but rest assured there is a punishment for his actions. It will all be officially announced. Until then, not a word. Do you understand?"

The two cultists shared a look.

"I said do you understand?"

""Yes, sir.""

"Good. Off you go."

He shooed them away and they left, albeit slowly and with suspicion. Once they were gone, he let go of Spring's arm and turned his dead glare upon the guy.

"If Abyssmal hadn't told me about you being pardoned, you would have been in a rough spot. What do you think you're doing roaming the halls? The announcement has yet to be made public."

Spring had seen cold eyes before while dealing with the ice king, 4Blite. Mark's were dead, but not cold, if that made any sense. He wasn't detached or callous. There was no meanness to his gaze. He just looked worn. Like he just woke up without his daily coffee. An alchemist in desperate need of a Potion of Will to Live.

But he had been asked a question, hadn't he? "Sorry, sir. I know I should have stayed in my room, but I..."

Sought out Parker for solace and acceptance.

"...wasn't thinking. Needed to stretch my legs. It was a stupid reason." Spring threw out an excuse. "I was just heading back when I got caught."

"Without a Potion of Invisibility?" He tsked. "You're just lucky I stumbled on you instead of Teal. That girl breaks bones first, asks questions never."

"I don't have the ingredients for an Invisibility Potion, sir." Spring shrugged.

"That right?" He spared a glance both ways of the hallway before turning and beckoning with one arm. "Come on, then. Let's get you sorted."

"Huh?"

"Potions. Invisibility Potions, to be precise." He elaborated. "Let's whip up some so I don't have to worry about bailing you out when you inevitably break the rules again."

"...Really?" Spring asked surprised.

"Yeah, my office is close." He said, Spring falling in line beside him. "I've learned by now that nobody listens if you order them not to do something. Like 'don't slip into my bed while I'm sleeping', or 'keep your hands out of my pants'." Spring gave him a weird look. "I call it the Teal Constant. Better to help you to not get caught rather than telling you not to get caught."

True to his word, Mark's office was only a few doors back. Spring and the Lieutenant made it there without being seen, and once the door was closed, they had all the privacy in the world.

The office was a tidy, organized room. Three times as big as Spring's temporary residence with a glass window at the back that allowed an aquarium view of the ocean floor and all its brightly colored coral. There were several brewing stands set up on side tables, many containing brewed potions. Spring spied a trio of chests, all labeled by signs. The first one read 'Mark's Paperwork', the second 'Abyssmal's Paperwork', and the third 'Teal's Paperwork'. The third one was the biggest - a double chest.

There was a bed in the corner that spoke of Mark being a late-night worker. An ornate desk was set at the back before the glass window. On it was a Snow Prints picture of Lieutenant Teal, looking the prettiest Spring had ever seen her.

While Spring took in the room, Lieutenant Mark went right to work at the brewing stands. He thought to himself for a brief moment before clearing three stands of potions and grabbing a handful of ingredients. He then took some empty glass bottles and filled them with seawater at a crack in the aquarium window. It was his own personal water dispenser. A good source for an alchemist like him.

Spring found a spot to sit as he watched the Lieutenant work. Blaze powder was added to fuel the brewing process, and the potions began to simmer as the nether warts were suffused into nine bottles. He was making him nine Potions of Invisibility.

"What do I owe you?"

"Hm?"

"For the potions. What do you want for them?"

"Uh, nothing?"

"C'mon, Lieutenants don't help grunts for no reason. Especially grunts branded as traitors." Spring added morosely.

"Well, considering you had 4Blite, I don't doubt that's how things were in the north, but here in the east I don't really mind being of use." Once the Awkward Potions were done simmering, Mark added the golden carrots. "I like helping people. I enjoy feeling needed. And if you're grateful, that's all I need back."

Such sentiment was the total opposite of 4Blite who saw people by what they could offer him and never stuck his neck out without something in return. Years of dealing with the guy had taught Spring to avoid him, which in hindsight was advice he was presently deviating from, but what can you do.

"In that case, I am grateful, sir." If that was all Mark wanted in return, Spring would happily acquiesce. He respected those who were respectful right back and had no problem addressing him as 'sir'. "More than you realize. With everyone against me, it's nice to have someone not reaching for a sword in my presence."

"Yes, I hear you're in quite the delicate situation." Mark acknowledged without turning. His gaze was solely on the brewing stands as he added the fermented spider eyes to the Potions of Night Vision to change them into Invisibility. "You're not winning any popularity contests either. Though the announcement has yet to be made, false rumors are still circulating about you. Apparently, someone thrives on your misery and is telling everyone you're taking up residence here, and that you've been pardoned on account of favoritism and bribery."

"That's a load! I mean, bribery is arguable, but favoritism!? Ember was ready to skewer me!"

"I'm just telling you the most widespread rumor. It doesn't even mention the Wither Skull Grinder you helped make - yes, I know all about that. Whoever's spreading the rumors wants you to look bad. Any suspects you can think of?"

"Who else? Gotta be the only others at the meeting - 4Blite and his three Plague stooges." Spring spoke with scorn. They were his top suspects, but he had a hunch it was Mox behind the rumors. "I can't believe how fast everyone can turn against me. I was at least likeable before this, but now even my old friends distrust me. It feels like everyone is my enemy!"

Spring didn't know why he was venting to Mark like this. Being a Lieutenant didn't make him obligated to listen to the cultists' problems. Spring wasn't even in his subdivision. Yet the weary Lieutenant was the only one viewing him fairly.

"That's only because you're breaking the mold, which nobody ever likes." Mark dismissed with a wave. "Most people conform. They walk a set path. You're a trailblazer. You make your own path. A path that nobody dares to travel. I admire that." He glanced back to the brewing stand as he busied himself adding redstone to the brews. "I wish I could trailblaze. Instead, I just get dragged around by the trailblazers. Take pride in taking fate into your own hands."

"What's there to feel proud of? My old friends hate me. I'm practically a pariah, now."

"You know, I bet Herobrine faced plenty of persecution for following his own path," Mark offered, the words allowing a moment of retrospection for Spring, "and I bet there were plenty of people who said his way was wrong. Yet today, his legacy is a powerful organization that only gets stronger." He shrugged. "Who can say what the future holds for the trailblazers of life?"

As the nine bottles finished simmering, and Mark began to pluck then from the stands, Spring thought to himself about the alchemist's poignant words. It was true that Herobrine had been an outcast. Heck, Spring didn't even believe half the things everyone claimed he did. He founded the kingdom system prevalent in Minecraftia. He spearheaded the exchange of knowledge through books. He wielded the awesome power of Command Blocks. However, he was also despised for summoning a Wither and starting the Endward Cult off of his controversial 'Next Life' theory. He didn't have to do all those things, and he had to know certain things wouldn't be tolerated by the kingdoms.

He did them anyway.

He didn't care if it meant being hated. He pursued what he thought was right, no matter how horrifying it was.

Come to think of it, weren't the Executives in the same boat? They were in charge of an unpopular cult of killers and they answered to no one. They knew this job would earn them the enmity of nearly every Crafter in Minecraftia, yet they upheld their positions because they believed what they were doing was right.

Being an Executive, or any kind of leader in general, meant forging your own path for others to follow. It was something Spring figured he'd be more mindful towards going forward. Especially since he might very well end up as an Executive after his duel with 4Blite.

"There we are." Mark presented the glass bottles to Spring, who gratefully accepted them. "Nine bottles with maximum duration. That's eight minutes apiece."

"Thanks again." Spring pocketed the Invisibility Potions. "For this... and the advice." Spring grinned. "I forgot that Herobrine was a pariah before it was cool. You're a pretty cool guy, Mark."

"Oh please. I'm the least remarkable MarkAble there is." He chastised himself harshly. "I should tack on an 'Unre' to the front of my name. Helping people is the only way I feel like I'm doing something meaningful."

"You're remarkable enough to make Lieutenant. That had to take some serious accomplishments."

"In a sense..." He blushed quite pointedly, his hand reaching up over his face to play with his hair shyly. "But my 'conquests' are more embarrassing than I care to admit-" He cut off abruptly, his head jerking and his ear angling to the door. Spring heard it too. Rapid footfalls. "Someone's coming. Douse yourself."

Spring didn't need to be told twice. He necked one of the Potions of Invisibility and vanished a few seconds before an incessant chanting, building in volume, sounded on the other side of the door.

"Mark! Mark! Mark! Mark! Mark! Mark!"

There was a flash of blue behind the door. Blue eyes full of mirth crinkled as they peered through the slits before the door was wrenched open to reveal Lieutenant Teal_Larkspur. "MAAAAAARK~!"

"Teal."

"Marky Mark~!"

"Teal."

"Marco Polo~!"

"Teal."

"Mark Mark Mark~!"

"Teal."

"Mark~!" She bounded into Mark's office and grabbed his arm in between hers. "You've gotta come to the cafeteria with me!"

"I can't have lunch with you. I already ate."

"Not anything like this you haven't!" Teal gave a light tug. "Your tastebuds are about to get tantalized, cuz we got ourselves a five-star chef~!"

"What are you talking about?"

"A five-star chef! Working out of this add-on kitchen stall in the cafeteria!" Teal explained excitedly. "Abyssmal must have arranged it to reward us for doing a good job. All I know is that the mystery chef working the stall is churning out the best gormet grub I've ever tasted! I stole a bite of cooked salmon off a dude's plate - I never knew salmon could taste so good! The crisp skin, the juicy meat, the smoky flavor." She licked her lips. "Hmhmm. I peaked~"

Mark tried to ignore her choice of words.

"I mean, you're the only guy to get my motor running, but this food was just pure orgas-"

"C-Can you not, please?"

"Why~?" She teased while leaning in suggestively. She walked two fingers up his chest. "It's just us here~"

Spring pretended not to have heard that conversation as he slipped out of the office unseen.

A mystery, five-star chef. Spring thought to himself. This has Carmen written all over it.

Instead of going back to the privacy of his room, Spring took a detour to the cafeteria. As he got closer, he had to stick to the walls so as not to bump into anyone while invisible. The hallways were getting more and more crowded the nearer he got to the cafeteria. It seemed like a queue had formed, the cultists chatting animatedly about how delicious the food was. Many of them seemed to have tasted it once only to go back on line for more.

The line was noticeably moving, so the wait time wasn't too bad, but it looked like two-thirds of the Eastern HQ were present. Soon, Teal and Mark caught up to Spring by bulldozing through the crowd and Teal abusing her authority to cut to the front of the line. Nobody dared to challenge her on it.

Spring was worried. If this really was Carmen, she was doing the opposite of laying low. Any one of the thousands of cultists here could discover her. What was she thinking?

Eventually, Spring slipped into the actual cafeteria, which was standing room only, and only a little to boot. Every table was packed with cultists as they dug into their food. Judging by their moans of enjoyment, they were loving the food as much as Teal had. It was almost comical how the usual cafeteria kitchen was deserted, and the cooks and lunch servers without customers. They milled about, bored or with jealous expressions as the cultists flocked to the makeshift lunch stall on the other end.

Spring couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for Carmen's culinary skill before he squashed it down under how reckless this idea of hers was. Why risk herself cooking? If anyone found out the Hybrid was here...

Spring hugged the wall to avoid the crowds as he approached the food stall. It was crudely built. No more than a wooden frame in the wall with the inside expanded. Spring was certain the ocean was behind that wall, but it looked like someone built out into it to accommodate the kitchen. Did Abyssmal really arrange for this or was it Carmen's doing?

There was an iron door in the side to get in, but no way to open it. Spring peered through the slats in the door, but there was another iron door after it, the two serving as an air-lock. It also kept him from seeing further into the kitchen stall.

Around the front of it, there were four wooden windows. Small enough for food to be sent out without anyone being able to see inside. The line split up to get their orders taken by each of the four windows, and food was getting churned out by the minute. Over the din of thousands of voices filling the cafeteria, a poorly disguised feminine vibrato sounded from behind the windows, taking people orders and throwing in a word or two that sounded like a different language entirely.

Yup. Definitely Carmen.

Spring spotted a plate piled high with Chorus Fruit and quickly pilfered some to the confusion of the cultist carrying it. After that, he leaned against the wooden walls of the add-on stall and chewed on the Chorus Fruit. Once he finished it, he randomly warped past the wall and into the kitchen.

It was a ten-by-ten-meter room with a four-meter-high ceiling, but it had one wall of furnaces and another wall of ingredient chests. Tables, crafting tables, brewing stands, and a basin of water were set up on an island in the middle. Coal and charcoal to feed the furnaces was among the ingredient chests, though someone had bothered to label them by the wood the charcoal was made of. From Spring's experiences with Carmen's cooking, the type of wood you used for charcoal to cook food could change the taste.

Naturally, Carmen's four Magma Cube clones were scurrying around managing the food and the furnaces. Each clone cooked their own food and took their own orders from the windows. They were all in charge of their own prep, but that didn't stop them from assisting a clone when they wanted to. They worked in perfect unison because they were one unison - one person. Their hivemind processed the same information and split it up between their four bodies to prepare the food in the most timely and delicious manner possible. Their experience in the restaurant setting further aided them in serving so many people at once.

It was a surprise that KillGore was there too. Spring hadn't expected the munchkin to be supervising Carmen's cooking with an air of approval. He probably built the stall. Did that make this his idea?

Spring went to the ingredient chests and picked out a bucket of milk reserved for cakes. He drank deeply and dispelled the invisibility, appearing before KillGore and the Carmen clones in an instant.

""""Spring!"""" The clones gave a start all at once before one spoke. "Estás aquí."

"Yeah, I'm here, trying to lay low, which is what you should be doing. What the hell is all this?"

"This is the difference between eating and gourmet fine dining." A Carmen clone remarked while pulling out a searing hot steak from the furnace. She brought it to one of the windows and shoved it through the slot before calling out 'Next!' The clone then dusted her hands before going back to cooking.

"Why are you cooking for all these people?" Spring asked.

"Don't feel left out. I'll still treat you to mi deliciosa cocina."

"You know that's not what I mean." Spring frowned. "You're standing out too much. What if you're seen?"

"We won't be." KillGore piped up. "KillGore's kitchen stall is all but penetrable."

"I penetrated it in eleven seconds."

"Er, KillGore is still workshopping it..."

"This was my idea." A Carmen clone raised her hand.

"Or was it my idea?" Another clone added.

"No, no, fue idea mía."

"Coulda been my idea."

"Ay caramba. It was all our ideas." The first Carmen gave an indulgent smile which her clones mirrored. "We weren't getting anywhere locking ourselves in your room. So, I figured we could split our focus and cover more ground."

Despite the fact she was talking, her clones were still cooking and working independent of her focus to put out food. With her hivemind, she could truly do it all at once.

"So you decide to cook for people? How does this help us?"

"Estaba llegando a eso." She huffed. "The cult intend to make Híbridos a choice for cultistas. Eventually, more and more Híbridos will appear, and they'll become more accepted. In the meantime, I can cook for people as a chef misterioso and win support through my gourmet cooking tantalizing people's tastebuds. That way, when I reveal myself, they won't be able to reject me without rejecting my cuisine. So I'm gonna cook up the tastiest food these cultistas have ever experienced!" She declared in her vibrato, her eyes smoldering determinedly with Magma Cube fire.

"First, we win their stomachs." KillGore declared evilly. "Then, we win their hearts! Mwahahaha!"

Spring supposed that made sense. Like the old saying, the quickest way to a man's heart was through their stomach. Carmen's food was so popular, it was creating its own demand amongst the cultists. They'd never want to go back to sub-par cooking after having a taste of her five-star cuisine. Spring wasn't sure if that would be enough to get them to accept her, but it was a step in the right direction.

"I guess this might work." He allowed, his words earned a beaming smile from the nearest Carmen clone. "Does Abyssmal know about this?"

"Por qué lo haría? This was my idea."

"Well, rumors are circulating that it was his idea, so what's he going to do when he finds out about this food stall he never knew about."

"Hmph. You are overestimating Abyssmal's attentiveness." KillGore shot back. "KillGore is certain the Executive will not care where this delicious food came from. He has more pressing issues than an unexplained source of gourmet food. Last night, he had a cultist perform the Hybridization ritual."

"Realmente?" Carmen and her clones shifted focus for a second. "You're certain?"

"Last night was the new moon, and Abyssmal requested a copy of the Cursed Disc." KillGore nodded. "He did it. And from what I heard, the process didn't go to plan. He was so preoccupied, we had to postpone sending troops to guard our Wither Skull Grinder."

"Es una pena." Carmen frowned, unable to hide her disappointment. "I was hoping there'd be another Híbrido to garner sympathy."

"It's still a tentative process." Spring comforted the slime girl, her skin jiggling under his supportive pat. "More Hybrids will show up. And then, before you know it, you'll be yesterday's news. People will look at you the same way we do."

Carmen smiled under his touch, the other clones grinning along with the uplifting support.

"Gracias. Oh! How did the talk with your amigo go?" The clones paused in their cooking once more to give Spring their undivided attention.

"...Not good." Spring's shoulders slumped. "I don't think we can count on Park as an ally."

"Oh, lo siento mucho." Carmen comforted him in turn, her hand resting on his shoulder.

"It's fine. Who needs him, right?" Spring tried to act like it didn't matter. "On the plus side, I got to talking with Lieutenant Mark." He held up the Potions of Invisibility. "He gave me these to help us get around unseen. He's a pretty chill guy, unlike 4Blite."

"On the topic of 4Blite," KillGore chimed in, "we need to start discussing strategy regarding your upcoming duel with him. You can be sure he won't be pulling his punches. He wants the Executive spot very dearly."

"You can say that again. For as long as I've been in his subdivision, everyone always said he wouldn't rest until he stood at the top." Spring nodded. "While everyone else was mourning the Southern Division, he was celebrating the open position. Pretty sure he has Mox out spreading bad rumors about us too."

"So, let's talk strategy."

Spring, KillGore, and Carmen - the three amigos - huddled together to discuss their game plan while the other clones continued to push out food orders for their insatiable customers.

"Firstly, do you think you can win a straight fight as you are right now?"

"No way." Came Spring's swift response. "4Blite may be a jerk, but he's a tough jerk. He's cold and merciless. He's known to use Invisibility Potion to conceal himself while attacking, but his Tinker's battleaxe is the real problem. That thing has built-in knockback, no enchantment required." Spring sighed. "My sword can't compare."

"How's your archery?"

"I mean, I can hit a stationary target. Accuracy drops with distance."

"Then perhaps we should consider a crossbow side-arm." KillGore suggested. "Something with a powerful enchantment to use in close range. I don't doubt this will be a close-quarters duel. It behooves 4Blite to fight up-close and personal."

"Where am I going to get the EXP for a powerful enchantment?"

"HELLO!" KillGore cried out in his shrill alto tenor voice. "Mob Grinder master KillGore over here! I can get you all the EXP you need. We might even have to boost your level to improve your physical strength." KillGore withdrew a stack of EXP bottles from his backpack and started throwing them at Spring's face. The orange-haired man sputtered and coughed at the angry swarm of green and gold EXP orbs swirling around him and seeping into his arm.

"Podría tener algo para ayudarte a darte una ventaja." Carmen offered in turn. Just as she said that, one of her clones came over with two bowls of a brownish stew flecked with bits of purple and green flower petals. "Aquí. I found out about these from a Crafter's order. They use them to play a game called 'Stew Roulette'."

Spring disengaged from the cloud of EXP to take a closer look. He accepted the bowls and identified them as [SUSPICIOUS STEW]. Spring swished the bowl around like a prospector panning for gold. If the flower petals weren't enough to warrant suspicion, the name sure was. Not that he doubted Carmen would make anything short of delicious.

"What is it?"

"It's guiso de setas with an added bonus." She explained. "It's supposedly a new Bounty Day thing. By mixing in a certain flor, you can imbue the food with potion effects. Some good, some malo." She pointed to the two bowls. "Es imposible to tell which bowls give which effects unless you yourself made them. For instance, can you tell which stew will give you Jump Boost, and which stew will give you Regeneration?"

Spring eyed the two stews carefully but found no difference in either name or appearance. Carmen must have seen the consternation on his face and giggled lightly.

"The left one is Jump Boost - made with Cornflower - and the right one is Regeneration - made with an Oxeye Daisy. Some cultistas wanted me to make some dangerous ones as well, with Poison, Weakness, and Blindness. They play Stew Roulette. They each pick a stew and bravely swallow it to see who has the best luck. They also ordered leche for the wusses who can't handle the added spice."

"Huh. Healing home cooking." Spring nodded in appreciation of the idea. It would be a good source of food during the duel. That way, he could refill his Hunger Meter and enjoy some added benefits. Best of all, it let Carmen strut her stuff. "That's awesome! How long do the potion effects last?"

"It varies, but in general they last under diez segundos."

Spring held his smile despite how brittle it was. Ten seconds? That duration was practically useless in a duel when potions could last eighty times longer. He didn't say that out loud, though, since Carmen was just trying to help."

"...That's great! Will definitely come in handy."

"No it won't. Ten seconds is-" Spring elbowed him. "Wow! KillGore is impressed! Ingenious use of foodstuffs! Indeed!"

"Aww, gracias chicos!" Carmen blushed. "I'll make you a feast of my best stews to keep your energy up. And they'll all taste heavenly, I promise!" She beamed with pride. "While 4Blite snacks on bland, tasteless slop, you'll be eating like a king."

That was a happy thought, even though Spring didn't have the heart to tell her he'd need more than her delicious cooking to win. KillGore's EXP seemed the more practical route. He could improve his natural strength and enchant better gear.

"I wouldn't mind some diamond gear, but I don't think I can afford it." Spring lamented. "Mining for diamonds isn't a guarantee either. KillGore, do you know anyone here willing to trade for-?"

"ATTENTION! CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION! LISTEN UP! DAMN IT, STOP EATING AND LISTEN UP!"

Spring trailed off as a voice shouted on the other side of the stall wall, the din of the cafeteria gradually quieting. Spring, Carmen, and KillGore approached the order windows and pressed their ears against them to listen in.

"There's been a grave reversal of fortune! Nitebane's still standing! Not only did the Paragons survive the Hackers, but they captured them too!"

Cries of shock and outrage burst from the cafeteria and Spring was suddenly on the floor after losing all feeling in his legs. Captured Hackers? You didn't capture Hackers. You didn't capture natural disasters like they were something you could contain!

Through the boos and hisses over the Paragons' victory, the cultist who made the announcement had more to say. "There's more! The one responsible was King_Cobb! The Darker Billionth! He fought four Hackers at once! HE'S WORKING WITH THE PARAGONS!"

There was a brief moment of deathly quiet before it exploded in volume. Everyone was shouting or yelling or chatting to one another over such groundbreaking news. There was denial, there was anger, there was disbelief and skepticism. There were people who fell to their knees in shock or else wept in despair. By now, everyone knew about the two Billionths of the Beginners as well as their exploits from Lieutenant Jade's intel. For the last month, they believed Cobb was an enemy of Carys.

Now the two had apparently joined hands. It was their greatest fear. Those two as the strongest power couple spelled doom for the Endward Cult's.

What chance did they have against a guy who could fight multiple Hackers at once?

Spring, who'd been absent the past couple of weeks building a Mob Grinder, was unaware of the developments with Nitebane and the Hackers. It looked like the advantages he created for the Endward Cult were met with the Paragons stockpiling power. Both sides were getting stronger.

"REMAIN CALM!" Mark's voice shouted over the tumultuous cafeteria. "DON'T LOSE YOUR HEADS! QUIET DOWN!" A majority of the people lowered their voices, but they didn't stop talking about it. "Now we need to get the whole story. I'd like everyone to gather and head to the auditorium. Executive Abyssmal will want to address this development in person. We'll get to the bottom of this, so I ask you all to remain calm. This isn't the war lost."

With his words of assurance, maybe half of the cafeteria calmed down enough to start filing out towards the auditorium. The other half needed to get shuttled along by Mark and Teal as they were too stunned to move. They were rocked by this announcement. Everyone was certain the Hackers would level Nitebane to the ground. This was like finding out a bug bite was really a terminal illness giving you a day left to live. The cultists needed some powerful reasons to believe the Endward Cult could stack up against a certified Hacker-Slayer. Carys and Cobb working together was a nightmare.

Back inside the food stall, Spring had his back resting on the wall as he was too stunned for words. He always admired Cobb for triumphing over an unbeatable Hacker, but this was just unreal hearing he took down four. He captured them. How strong did he have to be to pull that off, and what did that mean for the Endward Cult?

The Wither Skull Grinder and Hybridization. Are those enough to counter this guy?

"You go ahead, KillGore." Carmen told the shrimp. Her face was in front of Spring's, trying to rouse him from his stupor. A second and third clone came over to help. "Take a bit of me with you and I'll see we catch up. Spring's not looking too hot."

KillGore nodded wordlessly, his own expression grim from the news. He understood how serious a threat this was.

KillGore slipped Carmen's miniature clones into his clothes and waited until the last cultists filed out of the cafeteria before he unlocked the iron doors of the food stall and trekked after them. His destination was the auditorium.

KillGore didn't make it to the auditorium.

The underwater glass corridors were empty as most of the cultists had rushed through to the auditorium. The exception being KillGore and the blond man blocking his path - Sam_Vatar. A Plague.

"KillRoy. There you are."

"That's KillGORE, you plebian!"

"That's... anyway," he shouldered on impatiently, "I know there's an announcement in the auditorium, but this can't wait. Executive Abyssmal sent me to fetch you."

KillGore didn't move.

"It's urgent so we need to hurry." Sam clapped his hands. "Double time, c'mon."

KillGore narrowed his eyes and clenched the front of his vest with one hand, feeling around for the Carmen miniatures.

"I wonder what KillGore's peers would think of him were he to walk so foolishly into an obvious trap?"

Sam lowered his hand, his expression neutral.

"KillGore is small, but he is not stupid, and KillGore isn't going anywhere with one of 4Blite's sworn allies."

Sam held his gaze for a long moment before sighing wearily. "I knew this was a stupid idea. Not the ambush, per se, but the pre-ambush attempt to take this someplace quieter."

A set of footsteps landed behind him. KillGore turned his head - only slightly to keep Sam in his peripherals - and found Mox_Faith and Brandeen blocking his escape. Brandeen cracked his knuckles menacingly.

"We had to give it the old college try." Mox defended, her iron mattock in hand.

Movement around the front made KillGore notice Erma sliding up next to Sam, one arm rubbing her shoulder uncomfortably. She looked apologetic towards the midget as she drew her twin blades.

He was surrounded. Four Plagues in total.

"Is this what KillGore thinks it is?" KillGore asked, his small hand reaching for his sword.

"No point beating around the bush." Brandeen growled while Sam drew his bow.

"No." Carmen poured out of KillGore's vest and reformed as a Crafter-sized clone before withdrawing a golden sword. "There isn't."

The Plagues were unsurprised by her appearance.

"Well, if it isn't Spring's molten booger." Mox mocked. "And here I am without a tissue or decongestant."

"Crow while you can. I was looking for an outlet for my murderous instintos monstruosos." Carmen shot back while pointing her sword. "Parece que encontré un ganador."

AN: The Plagues are making moves for 4Blite, clearing out the competition so he can be Southern Executive. Best way about it is wiping out Spring's support base, if not the man himself.

Also, Lieutenant MarkAble! You get a bit more about his character and an official description for him, since I apparently never gave a proper one.

Mob Hybridization is going, though not as flawless as the EC hoped. Mob instincts to kill are pretty powerful. How does Carmen compensate?

CarmenDelaCruz: I cook.

Oh, right.

FAV. FOLLOW. REVIEW. FORUM. DISCORD. ITALIAN COOKIES.