Disclaimer: I don't own Don't Starve or any of the characters

Wilson let out a satisfied breath as he buried his head farther into the crook of his arm. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this comfortable. Judging by the soft brushing sensation against his skin, he was laying outside in the grass, but it was unlike any grass he'd ever felt before. It was soft. Pleasant. Almost like sleeping in a real bed again. The sun shone down on him, providing a welcome warmth that was neither too hot nor too cold. Everything felt simply perfect.

Until he remembered where he was.

Eyes instantly shooting open, the scientist shot upright. A brief glance was enough to tell him that they were no longer in the labyrinth that they'd fought through in the last world. That would mean that they passed the test and made it to the next one.

His hand drifted to his belt where he felt the familiar leather of his knife handle. It was a reassuring tool to have. While he still held misgivings about the possible long term effects of using it, he couldn't deny how helpful it had been.

Besides. It made him feel powerful. He could get used to that.

The sound of rustling grass and displaced flora reached his ears as his companions started to stir. They moved sluggishly, still held under the comforting effects of this new prison. Wilson had already decided not to trust anything he was feeling at the moment. No doubt it was all a ruse to lure them into a false sense of security.

"Well." Willow remarked, squinting upwards as she took in the scenery. "This is different."

A soft rolling grassland surrounded them, broken up only by the occasional tree or hill. As far as the eye could see, the world looked utterly harmless.

"Is nice!" Wolfgang declared, seating himself among the grass and flowers. "Much better than cold place. And fally place. And rainy pig place too."

It was hard to disagree with the assessment, but the scientist still wasn't satisfied. It wasn't long before he saw he wasn't the only one either.

"What do you think Wendy?" He asked, spying the girl staring off into the landscape.

"I don't like it." She replied evenly, turning to face him. The statement set him on edge, leaving his mind to wonder at all sorts of sinister implications. When she made no move to clarify her displeasure, he pushed on.

"What's the problem?" He asked, already assuming the worst. If she could see something they all couldn't, it likely had to do with some of the darker forces at work in these worlds.

"It's too…" She paused, wrinkling her nose as though the statement she was trying to make filled her with disgust. "…pretty."

"…Too pretty?" Wilson repeated, all his previous assumptions grinding to a halt. It certainly wasn't the answer he'd been expecting.

"Yes." She confirmed, either not seeing or not caring about the strange look she was getting. "Much too pretty. Nothing in life looks so… perfect. It just doesn't work that way. This place isn't natural."

"I think you should know by now that nothing in this world is natural."

It came as no surprise to any of them when Maxwell's voice cut into their conversation. As one, the group turned to face the man.

"So what's the catch this time?" Wilson asked, getting straight to the point. He was still riding on the momentum from their previous victory and could feel the tides starting to turn in their favor now that they were into the fourth test. "Let me guess, is it going to be bees? Or maybe giant rhinos? Is the sky going to start falling on us after a few days or something? Come on, don't leave us waiting here."

That was when he noticed something was wrong. Maxwell looked much the same as he had during all their previous encounters, wearing his expensive looking suit, and standing around with the pompous air of one who never considered he might have an equal. There was only one minor difference, but it stood out like a flaming squirrel in a barren tree.

He wasn't smiling.

The expression on his face was almost downcast, looking like he was in the middle of something highly unpleasant. There was no more traces of arrogant superiority or command. He looked like a man doing a job rather than a master puppeteer manipulating his toys.

"This is a compromise." He said at last. "No tricks. No struggle. I've made this particular world as close to perfect as it can physically be. You'll never be wanting for food or shelter, and you will be able to live out the rest of your days in luxury."

It had to be a bluff, but no signs of deceit played out across his face when he spoke. He was dead serious in his demeanor. Wilson exchanged an anxious look with his companions.

"You don't really expect us to believe that do you?" He said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. "Hounds are going to come attack us in our sleep aren't they? You said there were five worlds designed to test us in every possible way. You never mentioned we'd be stopping after passing the halfway mark. Don't think you can just change the rules and expect us to go along with it."

Maxwell simply shook his head.

"I don't much care whether you choose to 'go along with it' or not." He said. "You don't get a say in the matter. Trust me. It's better this way. Stay here and you'll all be allowed to have everything you could possibly want. Food. Homes. Pigs to serve your every whim. Go ahead and start a family for all I care. Count your blessings and be happy with what you've got. As for me, I've got places to be. So long. I'd say it's been nice, but that wouldn't be truthful now would it?"

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away offering a wave over his shoulder. Wilson stood dumbfounded for a moment before he was snapped back into awareness.

"Oh no you don't!" He shouted, rushing forwards in an attempt to stop the departing figure. "You don't get to just walk away like that! We didn't agree to this! The deal was five worlds and you send us home remember!? You can't just go back on your word like that!"

His actions proved futile as Maxwell gave no sign of stopping to hear him out. The man and his million dollar suit vanished long before Wilson had a chance to catch up, leaving all of them in a shocked silence.

The scientist let out a frustrated cry, kicking up a patch of dirt before his hands went to cover his face. He didn't even know why this bothered him so much. Obviously Maxwell wasn't just letting them go. It was another one of his tricks. But to offer them such a thing while simultaneously denying them their freedom? That was low.

"Where's the divining rod?" He asked, turning to face the group again. They came back to attention at his voice, shaking off the aftereffects of the news. Wendy was the first to spot it.

"Right here." She said, picking the device up off the ground. It let off the consistent, low droning that meant their goal was a very long ways away. "You must have dropped it when we arrived."

He took the rod with a nod of thanks, waving it around experimentally to see if it reacted to any particular direction. No such luck. They'd have to start out the old fashioned way and find the right path through trial and error.

"I don't know what game Maxwell's playing." Wilson said, addressing all of them at once. "But I sure as heck don't think we should be playing along with it. I say we get underway as soon as possible. We've beaten his challenges three times now. No reason to stop just because he tried to bribe us, right?"

"Right." Willow agreed, clapping him on the shoulder. "About time you started talking sense. Glad to see you've decided to join the rest of us."

He couldn't help the corners of his mouth turning up in a goofy grin at that.

"Well…" He began. "You didn't really leave me any other choice. I wanted to keep things safe, but everyone kept going anyway."

Abigail drifted her way over to Wendy, peering over the girl's shoulder while she busied herself with grinding a flower under her heel with a look of distaste on her face.

"May we go now?" She asked, scraping the remnants of the desecrated flora off her shoe. "This place is starting to make me sick."

"Little girl is make sick by flowers?" Wolfgang asked, concerned. "Little girls is supposed to love flowers!"

"Don't forget that this 'little girl' is also a practitioner of the dark arts." Wilson reminded him, chuckling at the idea of Wendy wearing a crown of flowers. "Come on. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can get out of here."

Heartened by their sense of rejuvenated energy, they set off in pursuit of their freedom.

One week.

Seven days. One hundred and sixty eight hours. Ten thousand and eighty minutes. Six hundred and four thousand, eight hundred seconds.

Six hundred and four thousand, eight hundred and one…

Six hundred and four thousand, eight hundred and two…

Six hundred and four thousand, eight hundred and three…

The unrelenting weight of total tedium bore down heavily on Wilson's mind as he leaned back against the wall of his log cabin. It was funny, only a little while ago the idea of having a building to sleep in was practically his idea of heaven. Here it was, pre-built and ready to be used and he could hardly stand to even look at it.

All because he knew it was Maxwell who'd built it for them.

One week of constant searching. One week of total nothingness. The divining rod provided no insight, coming up empty no matter how far they walked in any particular direction. The steady rhythm of its mindless noisemaking taunting their efforts and acting as a background symphony to their monotonous dredge through the world.

Not that they really had anything else to put their energy towards. As it turns out, their debased host hadn't been lying when he'd said everything they could want was provided. Bushes bore all manner of fruits and berries for them to eat, all of which grew back in mere hours. Astonishingly fast all things considered, but Wilson had stopped questioning how such things could be possible a long time ago.

There were no creatures to threaten them. Hounds no longer existed. The only spiders where the small, garden variety which were no threat to anything larger than a moth. Even the night was illuminated by a bright full moon, providing protection against "Charlie" or whatever Maxwell had called that creature.

A moderately sized pig village was located near where they'd started out. Unlike the warrior pigs, these ones were perfectly friendly, and were more than happy to help in any way that the group asked. They were disturbingly eager to serve, as though catering to the whims of guests was all they cared about.

Knowing what this place was built for, it probably was.

There was even a small assortment of cabins set up in a campground style gathering, centered around a fire pit so large that Willow was practically prancing in glee when they first ignited it. It was, for all intents and purposes, perfection.

Tedious, dreary, infuriating, perfection.

A groan escaped Wilson's chest as he slumped to the side, falling into the downy grass beneath him. The stuff was so soft it rivaled the mattresses that had come with their housing. Given the exceedingly mild climate, it probably wouldn't have been a terrible idea to sleep outside every now and then.

The scientist's eyes drifted up to the sky. Even that looked maddeningly perfect. Just the right amount of fluffy white clouds to provide enjoyable scenery, but not so much that they disrupted the sunlight. His mind began to drift along with their slow, wind-borne trails.

His fingers unconsciously drummed against the handle of his knife, a gesture which he was growing more and more accustomed to. He'd been wrong about his paranoia. That he was certain of. The shadows had merely needed a chance to get acquainted with him so to speak. They hadn't felt anywhere near as invasive the second time.

As it happens, he had almost forgotten what that felt like. How long ago had it been when he last used it? Only a week? With how slowly time seemed to move here, it felt like it had been months. Maybe he should let them out again. Just to get that feeling of power. Yes… That sounded appealing. There was no harm in it. Just a little taste shouldn't hurt…

His train of thought was derailed as a figure stepped into his line of sight, blocking his sunlight and casting him into the shade.

"You look busy." Willow remarked, prodding his shoulder once with her toe. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Wilson scoffed.

"You'll need more than a penny to buy those." He replied. "My thoughts are valuable enough to buy a small continent."

His comment earned a sarcastic chuckle from the fire starter as she shook her head.

"My, my, feeling awfully humble today aren't we?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I can't help it if I'm brilliant."

His remark earned him a playful kick to the ribs. After a moment, the banter ended and a more serious expression replaced her amused grin.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" She asked, still standing over him in such a way as to block out the sunlight. Wilson silently mused on whether or not he could get away with passing it off as a simple mood. Unsurprisingly, that didn't feel like it was going to work.

"I guess I haven't been feeling very high-spirited over the past few days." He explained, closing his eyes and letting the gentle breeze drift over his face. "We haven't made any progress yet, and the monotony is starting to wear on my nerves."

Not to mention he was dying to use the knife again. To feel that energy in the palm of his hands once more. He toyed with the idea of telling her that as well, but decided against it. There was no sense in drawing too much attention to it. After all, she might want to try. He couldn't readily go around sharing it could he? It was his.

Wilson's eyes popped open as he mentally jumped in surprise at his own thoughts. Where had all of that come from?

Before he could read too much into it, Willow leaned forwards over him, her hair and face silhouetted against the backdrop of the midday sun. It almost looked as though she had a halo made of fire and light surrounding her.

"You know the best cure for tedium?" She asked, giving him a cocky smile. "Progress. Now get up and let's make some."

A noise that was equal parts laugh and sigh issued from the back of his throat as rolled his eyes in return.

"Great idea." He remarked dryly. "Next thing you know, you'll be saying that all we have to do to get home is leave. I'm shocked I never thought of such a thing."

Her smile didn't falter for a second.

"…What's that look for?" He questioned, realizing that the fire starter had something up her sleeve. Hopefully it wasn't more of Wendy's cooking. The girl had made them dinner two nights ago since all the others were too fatigued after a full day of searching. Wilson didn't know what that stuff was made of, but he was pretty sure feeding it to prisoners could be classified as a crime against humanity.

"Oh, nothing~" Willow replied, her voice taking on a singsong note. "I just thought you might want to hear what our latest search party managed to find~"

"…You're kidding right?" He asked, hardly daring to believe what she was implying. "Did someone actually find something?"

"Why don't you come see for yourself?" She answered, offering her hand. After only a moment's hesitation, he reached up to grab it and she pulled him up to his feet. He took a second to brush off his pants before stretching out his back and straightening himself up.

"You'd better not just be getting my hopes up for nothing." He warned, pointing an accusing finger. Willow put her hand up to her forehead in a gesture of mock fright.

"Oh no!" She exclaimed, turning on her heel and heading away from their campsite. "The great Wilson P. Higgsbury might be mad at me if I don't live up to his expectations! Whatever will I do?"

"You could start by losing the attitude." He mumbled under his breath, only half serious. Despite the way this place tore at the edges of his sanity, he had to admit that it was nice to see Willow so relaxed.

"Are you coming or not?" She called over her shoulder, not bothering to slow down. Wilson stuck his tongue out, though he knew she couldn't see him.

"I'm coming. Don't you worry." He assured, jogging to catch up with her. Even if this whole thing turned out to be nothing, it would at least help to distract him from his previous concerns.

Unbeknownst to the scientist, his fingers drummed automatically against the handle of his knife.

"Willow…" Wilson began, his features not being able to decide whether they should settle on disturbed, confused, amused, or a mixture of the three. "…What's going on…?"

The scene playing out in front of him was a peculiar one to say the least. Wolfgang stood in the middle of a clearing, his face a scrunched up mask of concentration as he stared up at the diving rod held in his left hand. In his right, the enormous club he now carried everywhere was tensed in preparation to swing at any moment. Wendy and Abigail sat at the base of a nearby tree, observing the display with only moderate interest.

"Just watch." The fire starter said, holding in suppressed laughter at the sight. "Trust me, there's a good reason why he's doing this."

Deciding to take her at her word, Wilson closed his mouth and watched. Wolfgang was patrolling slowly in a large circle, each step looking as though it was carefully thought out. After about four or five of these, he suddenly stopped, looking sharply at the divining rod. He took one experimental step backwards before nodding to himself.

Rearing back his arm, he slammed the club into the ground with a resounding thump that echoed clear across the clearing. Wilson was sure he could see a cloud of dirt fly up from the impact zone. After his attack on the Earth, Wolfgang started his patrols up again with a very slightly modified path.

This process of slow walking, backtracking, and attempting to break through the ground repeated itself several times before Wilson finally decided that enough was enough.

"Ok, I give up." He said, turning back to Willow. "What am I watching? Did he eat some strangely colored mushrooms or something?"

She just smiled and shook her head.

"Close your eyes and try listening for a bit." She explained. "You might pick up on something you missed."

As a scientist, Wilson appreciated the sentiment of finding out answers through experimentation. As a human being though, he found the needless complication to be frustrating in the extreme. Never the less, he decided to play along.

Closing his eyes, he let his other senses focus.

At first the only noise he heard was the rustling of leaves in the wind and the regular thrum of the divining rod's endless melody. He didn't detect anything out of the ordinary until…

There.

All of a sudden, the tone of the rod's wailing changed ever so slightly. It was almost imperceptible, shifting the barest fraction of a degree, but it was a change. A sudden surge of anticipation ran through Wilson's system at the sound he hadn't heard in almost eight days.

Quickly following the shift in tone, the solid impact of a blunt object pulverizing the ground greeted his ears. After listening to the pattern for a couple more rounds, he knew what was going on.

Opening his eyes, Wilson looked more closely at the tiny craters pockmarking the clearing.

"He's mapping out where the tone changes." He said, earning a nod and an approving smile from Willow.

"That's right." She said, gesturing to Wolfgang. "He and Wendy found it early today. Apparently, there's an area over there that's somehow closer to the door than the rest of this place. He's been using that mallet to make an outline so that we can see it better."

It was a clever, if somewhat crudely implemented, plan as far as Wilson could see. He opened his mouth to say as much when a new sound drew his attention. It wasn't the droning of the divining rod, nor was it the steady thump of Wolfgang's miniature earthquakes. It sounded suspiciously like cracking.

All at once the sound of splintering wood filled the air as the ground the strongman had been marking off sagged inwards. He barely managed to jump to safety before the whole thing collapsed, sending up a plume of dust and debris that quickly encompassed the group.

Coughing and squinting into the cloud, Wilson ran forwards.

"Wolfgang!" He called, his voice catching as the scratchy particles irritated his throat. "Are you all right? What's going on?"

Behind him, Willow was quick to follow. She drew level with him right as he made his way to the edge of the newly made pit. Wendy and Abigail joined them soon after.

Much to everyone's relief, Wolfgang had escaped the fall and was currently peering over the edge. Seeing that he was still intact, the group's attention was quickly drawn downwards as well. Wilson could hardly believe what he was seeing.

About a foot and a half beneath the surface, several large logs had been buried, covering about an area of about ten square yards. The wooden beams had been covering a hollowed out area while supporting the weight of the dirt on top of them. It was a carefully made hiding spot, one that he doubted they'd have ever found were it not for the divining rod.

Large cracks ran around the circumference of the logs, likely the result of Wolfgang's marking methods. Once their structural integrity had collapsed, the supports could no longer hold up the dirt on top of them and had fallen inwards, revealing the hidden treasure. It was something Wilson could have gladly gone his whole life without ever seeing again.

As he looked down into the pit, a cavernous mouth filled with slime and teeth looked back up at him. The thick, leathery flesh surrounding it rippled as the subterranean creature shifted about.

"Isn't that…" Willow began, thinking back to the last time they'd encountered one of these creatures.

"Yes." Wilson said, finishing her thought for her. "That's a wormhole."