Chapter 4

When Steve awoke the next morning, he almost forgot about DC entirely, thinking the whole event had merely been a dream. But when he arose from his bed and saw the familiar creeper looking out the window in the front room, he remembered otherwise.

Ah, yes; today they were going to further examine the cavern DC had stumbled across a few days ago. He didn't exactly know what to expect from the expedition, but he was hoping to find out what - or who - exactly was posing such a huge threat to the world, as DC had mentioned so frantically. Surely he could find the answers or at least a clue at that cavern. There was only one way to find out.

He entered the front room. "You're up awful early," he greeted.

DC spun around. "Ah, you're awake. I'm not used to sleeping at night, so I got up to watch the sun rise."

"I see."

"Besides, my wound was throbbing rather harshly; it sort of kept waking me up."

"Oh, yeah, your wound. Let me get something for that. Hmmm… let's see here…" He looked around the room for something that could serve as a temporary bandage. Then his gaze turned to his own shirt, which he had produced from some thinned-out wool after his old shirt had become too… holey. "Be right back." He disappeared out of the room.

DC was about to ask where he was going, when he re-emerged from his bedroom, holding another one of his makeshift shirts. "Here we are."

"Wait, you don't have to -" But it was too late to protest; Steve had already ripped off both sleeves of his only other shirt. He tied them together with a tight knot and wrapped the "bandage" around DC's head.

He stepped back, quite proud of his work. "There we go. Is that at all better?"

DC was a bit startled at his spontaneous decision to suddenly tear up his clothes. Were all humans like this? "Y-yes," he stammered. "Yes, that is a bit better. At least it will stop the bleeding."

"Good. So are you ready now to take me to that cavern you talked about?"

"If you think it will help to see it for yourself."

"It will." He turned and headed for his storage room. "I need to go pack a few things before we leave; I have a feeling this trip is going to take a bit longer than expected."

"I will wait."

It took a few moments for Steve to gather the necessary supplies; everything in the cramped space was so unorganized, every block and tool shoved into chests in hopes that it would do until he could add on to the room. I never did built that extra storage room, he realized. That'll have to wait until I return.

He carefully thought out what he needed to bring. He would need tools, of course; he rummaged through a couple of chests, pulled out a handful of iron ingots and sticks, and hastily crafted a few pickaxes and shovels - an axe wouldn't necessarily be needed for this journey, seeing as how he could easily punch down a tree or two with his fists if needed. Weapons were also mandatory; he pulled out his trusty iron sword from its sheath connected to his belt and examined it closely. Only a couple of minor scratches blemished its otherwise pure surface; it could definitely hold out for the trip. He put together a stack of arrows for his bow but was faced with a slight dilemma; there was no way he could carry all of them. Then he spotted a few leather hides hiding in one of the chests, and an idea struck him. He pulled out the leather and molded it into a cylinder shape, forming a rudimentary quiver. With this problem solved, he went along with his mental checklist, constructing some torches and cooking some meat.

As it roasted in the furnace, he wondered if DC would even eat it; never before had he actually thought about what creepers ate. Perhaps they didn't eat real food like him; what if they ate something like gunpowder? Or did they eat anything at all? So many questions he wanted to ask. At one point, he thought he had known everything there was to know about Minecraftia; now he was beginning to think he knew nothing at all.

DC's eyes grew large when he saw Steve return with the heavy bulk of materials strapped to his torso. "Can you carry all of that?" he asked timidly.

"Of course I can," Steve replied with a grunt. "I'm used to it."

"…Are you sure?"

"Well, maybe it couldn't hurt if you carried the food pouch and the torches." As he strapped the backpack-like pouches to his travel companion, he couldn't help but feel relieved at some of the weight being taken off; porkchops really were a lot heavier in number. Then he remembered what he wanted to ask. "Um, you do eat meat, don't you?"

"Of course. Who doesn't?"

"Just checking."

"Ah. Are we ready to go, then?"

Steve opened the door and gestured for DC to go first. "Lead the way."

A gust of cool wind greeted them as they emerged from the cozy house. Steve breathed in the deep, refreshing air, feeling energized and ready for whatever might come to the two. The weather this morning was certainly more pleasant than the storm that befell on the earth the previous day.

He walked beside DC, noticing he was watching their surroundings with a watchful eye. "I wouldn't worry too much about other hostiles," he assured him. "Either they've all burned up or retreated back to the caves by now. We should be reasonably safe."

"Mm-hm." DC didn't seem convinced. Of course, Steve remarked to himself, he did have every reason to be cautious, and maybe even a little suspicious. After all, he had been rejected - and even hunted after - by his own kind. It must have been a horrible ordeal for him to go through. Steve couldn't imagine what he himself would have done in that situation - imagine having to turn to the enemy for help. He shuddered.

The pair talked as they traveled; DC eventually loosened up and became more than willing to answer any questions Steve might have about life on the other side, and Steve, in return, answered DC's questions about life as a human.

"How did you know so much about auras and such, even though you spawned just a few days ago?" he asked.

DC tilted his head in thought. "No one is entirely sure, but if I had to make a guess, I would suppose that sort of knowledge is in our blood, as is our inclination to obey the command to kill."

"So someone commanded you hostiles to kill people like me?"

"No, not a specific entity, or at least one that I have ever heard of or met. We just sort of… know, from the time we spawn on the earth, that we must obey. It's our intuition, our instinct. Like your instinct to survive. How exactly did you come across this land, anyway?"

I can't count how many times I have asked myself that same question. "I don't know, really; I woke up one day on the shore, all wet and cold and without a single memory - except for my name, of course."

"You can't remember anything before that?"

"Not a single thing."

"How peculiar… and very unfortunate. Your first night must have been terrifying."

Steve gave a short laugh. "Oh, yeah, it certainly was. Not to mention confusing. I mean, I had absolutely no idea what to do; I had approximately five minutes before nightfall to quickly gather enough wood just to make a four-by-two crude hut - and some of the gaps had to be filled in with dirt. You should have seen it; it was a mess. So was I."

DC chuckled in amusement. "I can imagine."

The two continued to chat like old acquaintances as they walked all day. It occurred to Steve that, although DC was a creeper, he acted much like a human; he was very articulate and well-mannered for someone who had spawned in the wild. If anything, he was more well-mannered than Steve himself.

He quickly reminded himself that DC was merely looking for an aide in his quest to vanquish the evil below; he hadn't come to Steve's house in pursuit of a friend. This is strictly business, not a tea party, he told himself. You'd better take this seriously, or you're going to end up digging your own grave.

As soon as the sun gave its first signs of setting, DC stopped. "Ah, there it is!" he cried. "Over there, in the distance; do you see that large hole?"

Steve shaded his face from the blinding sun with one hand and looked in the direction DC was staring at. Sure enough, a long, jagged crater in the ground could be seen. "We're here already?" he asked. "You made it sound like it would take us a week."

"It almost did, for me," DC admitted. "I could only travel during the day since the hostiles would search for me at night. Also, this time I roughly knew where the cavern was located; I had to actually search for your house, seeing as how I had no idea where it was before now."

"Oh. Well, let's see what we can find in there, shall we?"

"Of course."

They approached the circular hole within a few minutes. Steve stood on the edge and tentatively peered down into the darkness. "You fell from all the way up here?"

DC nodded, grimacing in remembrance. "I would be careful, if I were you; it's a long drop."

"Hm. Well, what we can do is carefully dig a stairway down until we reach the bottom. Oh, and here." He reached into DC's torch pouch and pulled out a torch from it. "I don't really know how you're going to be able to hold this, but digging is going to take two hands for me, and seeing as how it is getting kinda dark…"

"I can hold it in my mouth," DC offered.

"You sure?"

"Mm-hm."

DC took the torch in his mouth, providing a light source for Steve, who was trying his best not to laugh at the sight. "Thanks," was all he managed to get out.

He hurried to carve a safe staircase in the sides of the cavern with his pickaxe as the sun gradually descended upon the horizon, darkening the atmosphere around him. Now this was more like it. The familiarity of mining was something of a comfort to him. Hearing the soothing "clunk" of the pick's sharp edge connecting with the hardened rock conducted him as a maestro would an orchestra; he'd raise the pick, swing down with perfect precision each time, always hitting his target - and then he'd repeat the same movement, over and over, until finally he broke through another foot. On with the next block he would silently continue, without a grunt of discomfort or a sigh of weariness; he was an expert, and his body was trained to perform such tasks with ease.

DC watched as he went about with his pick, mesmerized by his skills… and somewhat jealous. "I wished I had arms to do what you humans can do," he said, his voice slightly muffled by the torch in his mouth.

Steve turned to look at the wistful look on his face; he wasn't sure what to say, so he said nothing.

By the time the two reached the bottom of the cavern, night had fallen, enveloping the sky in a blanket of shadows. DC reclaimed his place ahead of Steve and ushered him away from the opening of the cavern, into the rune-covered hallway, where Steve used some of the stone he collected to block the entrance. They were safe.

"The runes… they've returned to their natural state," said DC. "I wonder why."

Steve observed the runes closely; as DC had said, they had obviously been carved into the wall with great care. Still, there was no sign of anything written in a language he might understand. At least he knew that DC's tale was a truthful one up to this point. Who's to say the runes hadn't changed in appearance at all? Steve had seen stranger things in his days. "Perhaps we should keep moving," he suggested. "You said there was a shrine with a stone on it?"

"Yes! The stone," DC exclaimed. "It spoke to me; I swear it did. Maybe it has something else to say. It was this way; follow me."

Steve hurried to keep up with his anxious pace. Suddenly, the hallway opened up to a room. And in the corner of that room was a large stone with a scarlet cloth resting on it. But there was one thing missing.

In shock, DC's mouth opened, and the torch tumbled from it onto the ground, clattering as it smacked against the stone floor.

"The stone…" he whispered. "It's not there."