AN: 8000 Views. 2000 Visitors. 36 Favs. 38 Follows. Wow.

Just...wow. I got so much response to last week's chapter it was crazy. Made me happy to see people actually looked forward to this story. Many manly tears were shed. (T_T)

Congrats to Laner, you mysterious, ambiguous, unaccountable, riddle-solving, genius, for getting the answer to last week's riddle. The man fell out of a 50-story, but he fell from the first floor, thus sparing him from turning into street pizza. Enjoy your cookie and your acknowledgment.

(::)

Puzzle: Inside a green house, there's a white house. Inside the white house, there's a red house. And inside the red house are a bunch of little babies. What would you call the whole thing?

Disclaimer: I don't own Minecraft. If I did, I'd increase stack size to 100.

Beta: Void of Shining Darkness

Chapter 30

Talks

[Floyd]

There's an old saying.

And by old I obviously mean by Normal Sense standards since I've never heard of the saying in Minecraftia.

But there's an old saying: You never miss the water until the well runs dry.

At the moment, that pretty much summed up how I felt about sleep. I never realized how important it was until I was several days into sleep-deprivation. Without it, every movement was an effort, focus was an ordeal, and each second was a heated war to keep my eyelids open.

More than anything, I wanted to shut my eyes and just flop onto the nearest soft material, effectively dead to the world. I would sleep for the entire day, not even caring if a Mob tried to kill me.

But, as much as I wanted to, I couldn't.

Because the nightmares weren't stopping.

Every time I tried to rest, my guilty mind would conjure up horrific renditions to torture me. My dreams were always plagued with the scene of Silent's death or some new terror that usually ended with Soul dead or Cobb dead.

Actually, I take that back. They usually ended with me waking up in a cold sweat and screaming my head off.

On one such occasion (the day Cobb pissed off a pack of wolves), Cara, sleeping right beside me, noticed my deafening screams and awoke immediately to ask what was wrong. If Soul wasn't such a heavy sleeper, he probably would have been asking questions too.

I tried playing it off as a bad dream, but I could tell Cara wasn't buying it. So instead, I asked her not to tell Soul.

It was really nothing for him to worry about, let alone anyone else. It was my sleep problem and I'd solve it alone.

Although I knew I had to solve it soon. We were supposed to arrive in Daymonte the next day, and that meant no more traveling with Wynn or her guards. It would just be me, Cara, and Soul braving it through dangerous lands. And if I was too exhausted to fight, I'd just be a burden again.

But that wasn't going to happen. Because I had a plan. And any plan a sleep-deprived mind could devise couldn't possibly fail!

It was simple. I would overwork my body training my sword skills, getting my mind to focus on something other than my guilt, and when I finally succumbed to exhaustion, I'd collapse and sleep…by force.

Eventually my body would get to the point where it had to sleep. And fighting was all I had as a distraction to get to that point.

So, when our entire group picked a spot for camp, I went off into the woods to exhaust myself while Soul went off to scrounge some meat.

As for Cara, she didn't offer any protest to us splitting up to do our own thing. She just sat by a tree, looking lonely and small, while she tried to plan out our shelter.

And speaking of shelter, I caught a bit of an argument between Cobb and Wynn.

"Are you telling me, that your shelter has been a TWO-DIMENSIONAL CUTOUT THIS ENTIRE TIME!?"

"Wh-how did you find out?"

"I looked at it from the left! Guards! Hold me back, because I'm going to kill Cobb otherwise!" Wynn shouted in a commanding tone, to which several guards wordlessly followed orders. She held back long enough for them to restrain her before she lost it and tried to claw her way towards Cobb.

Cobb quickly opened the door to his 'shelter' and hid 'inside' despite the fact that he could just have easily walked around to get behind it.

"He's doing this on purpose! I know he is! Just to screw with me!" Wynn's rants echoed before I left the scene.

Cobb can handle that.

I didn't have to travel far before I found a suitable training spot: A small clearing covered with an assortment of flowers. It was illuminated by moonlight filtering in through the treetops. A few sheep bleated serenely as they trotted about.

Perfect. I thought as I withdrew my iron sword and began to practice. I swung my sword in a flurry of slashes, swapping between dominant and non-dominant hands, in an effort to exhaust myself.

Then I tried those knockback strikes Cobb mentioned on some poor sheep. It wasn't personal, but I needed to see if I could get the timing right.

I struck one of the sheep and sent it crashing into a tree before it vanished in a burst of…something.

I had never killed a sheep before (only ever seeing some in Ringwood) and had no idea what they would drop. Curiously, I stooped down and picked up the two new items: [WOOL] and [RAW MUTTON].

The wool felt soft in my hands, like cotton bedding, and I briefly wondered if it was a key component in the beds Cara brought. And the raw mutton was a slab of meat, definitely edible and probably more so if cooked.

I pocketed the items and swapped out for my flint and steel, eying the other sheep with a predatory glint. They shivered fearfully as I stood over them.

Man's gotta eat.

Two roasted sheep later, I had two [COOKED MUTTON] and two more wool. The mutton tasted so good, cooked to perfection and greasy from the fat. The only down side was that my flint and steel broke and I had no iron to replenish it.

So far, everything was going well. I had properly exhausted myself killing sheep and had filled up on enough food to make me drowsy. All that was left was to wait for sleep to take hold. Ironically, if I hadn't killed the sheep, I could've counted them to get to sleep faster.

I plopped down and rested my head against the trunk of a tree, waiting for sleep to take hold.

"That won't work."

I quickly looked up to locate the voice I just heard. It sounded…familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Who's there?" I called out, standing myself up against the tree. My eyes scanned the woods for any sign of movement. "Hello?"

Out of the corner of my eye, something stepped from the foliage. I turned to face it with my sword drawn…

…only to immediately drop it in shock.

"It…can't be."

It was Silent_Game, standing before me as if he was never dead at all. His slick white hair and light blue eyes were unmistakable as were his ridiculous rectangular, pince-nez glasses. And it couldn't just be someone wearing his Head, because he had the same attire. The same lavender shirt with the black sleeves and the same cobalt pair of jeans.

It was really him.

"Silent…"

At my words, he just shook his head sadly, light blue eyes somber and cold. His glasses shook barely a fraction, the moonlight reflecting in such a way to make the lenses opaque.

What? Why was he shaking his head? Why—no, forget that. Why wasn't he saying anything? He was there! Standing before me like he was alive! He had somehow spawned back into existence!

But before I could take a step forward, I heard a call behind me.

"Floyd? What are you doing out here?"

I turned my head, tearing my attention from Silent for a moment, just to see who had called to me. It was Soul, looking grumpy but carrying a couple cooked porkchops with him. However, when I returned my attention back to Silent, he was gone.

I quickly whipped my head left and right, thinking my formerly dead friend had just gone out of sight for a while. After all, why would he show himself only to leave when his other friend, Soul, had just shown up? It didn't make any sense.

"Hey, you heard me?" Soul asked again, trying to gain my attention. "What are you even staring at?"

Suddenly, a scarier thought entered my mind as I turned to Soul. "Did you see him?" I asked anxiously.

"Wh—see who? Cobb?" He questioned, genuinely confused.

"No, not—was I the only person you saw in this clearing?" I clarified half hopefully and half fearfully.

"Yeah…why?" He responded warily, checking the surroundings for any sign of enemies. "Was there someone else here?"

"I…I don't know." I responded lamely as I once more picked apart the surroundings. My head was starting to pound fiercely.

Did I…imagine that?

"Tch. Well glad we cleared that up." Soul responded sarcastically. "You didn't answer me: what are you doing out here, and away from the camp?"

I shook off the last thoughts of Silent from my mind before I refocused on Soul standing in front of me. "Just training."

"Well, going off by yourself to train is pretty stupid. What if a Griefer jumped you or something?" Soul asked while drawing out his axe. "You're not exactly in your best condition."

"I…I know. I'm sorry It's just—"

"I don't want to hear it." Soul interrupted with a raised hand. "Why waste time talking when we could be training? Lucky for you, I'm an excellent sparring partner."

I couldn't help but smile at his words. "You won't go easy on me just because I'm exhausted will you?" I was already readying my iron sword.

"Not if you keep milking that 'I'm exhausted' excuse." Soul responded while switching his grip on his axe. His muscles tensed, waiting to spring into an attack as soon as I called it.

…

…

"GO!"

[Cobb]

"Put that there…and this here…" I mumbled to myself as I arranged the wooden planks. "THERE! Is that good enough?"

I stepped away from my newly constructed shelter, awaiting Wynn's critical judgment. She observed it from every angle, ensuring it wasn't two-dimensional, before offering her unbiased opinion.

"Try again." She spoke those same damnable words, relishing in the groan escaping my mouth, as I, for the umpteenth time, deconstructed my shelter. She was so hell-bent on getting my shelter-building up to her standards that she kept forcing me to build and destroy and build again until I got it right.

On one hand, I had succeeded in building something that had three walls instead of one, but roofs and that tricky fourth wall were always a challenge; one I doubted I'd ever overcome.

"How come I need to meet your standards anyway?" I complained while hacking away at planks. "It's not like I'm going to be traveling with you forever."

"It's not about meeting my standards, Cobb." Wynn replied as she took a seat on an oak wood stair. "It's about being able to build a good shelter. As hard as it might be for you to comprehend, a four-wall shelter can keep out Mobs better than a one-wall."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I know that. But my one-walled shelters are good enough. After all, they kept me alive throughout the week. And I can't get this stupid fourth wall to connect properly."

"It was only luck keeping Mobs away from your 'shelter'." She used air quotes on the word shelter to get her point across. "But luck runs out. So if you want to get to sleep tonight, you'll make a proper shelter. Four walls and all."

I sighed exasperatedly before beginning construction again. I used my jump-and–place-blocks-under-me technique (which Wynn explained was referred to as nerd poling, a common Crafter tactic in escaping underground caves) to build the corners of the shelter. Then I connected the corners as best could.

The only problem was that I kept screwing up the placement of the shelter corners. I had to line them up just right to connect with each other.

Wynn got up and pointed to a spot on the dirt. "This is where the corner should be."

I nodded to her advice and placed the wooden planks to complete the square outline. Then I began to build up the walls, connecting all four-corners perfectly.

I looked to Wynn, who nodded approvingly before urging me to continue. I filled in the gaps of the wall, save for a space I left for the door, and finished by making a flat ceiling.

Wynn gazed at it closely, looking for any structural weakness, but seemed satisfied. "The roof needs some work, but it should hold up for the night. Illuminate the inside with a torch and you got yourself a shelter."

I let out a relieved sigh as Wynn left to construct her own shelter. She had been so busy helping me that she didn't have the chance to make one. I quickly lit the inside of the house and admired my own work. Having four walls certainly did make me feel safer.

I guess Wynn was right…not that I'll tell her that of course.

I exited my shelter, filling in the space with a door, and placed a sign in front.

'Crapshack Mark XV: Better than Crapshacks I-XIV'

I smiled contentedly at my work, and proceeded to make my way over to the guards sitting around a fire, talking and enjoying food.

That was, until I spotted someone sitting by themselves.

It was Cara, slumped against the base of a tree with only minor signs of a tree house shelter built above her. She nibbled on some bread and looked dejected, a miserable frown adorning her face.

Floyd and Soul weren't with her and I didn't see them anywhere in the camp. Shouldn't they have been the ones comforting their depressed leader and teammate? Instead of going off to do whatever?

I glanced between the jovial guards by the fire, a few of them calling me over to join them, and the lonely purple-haired woman, focusing somberly on a speck of dirt on the ground.

"Damnit." I groaned and grudgingly approached Cara, leaving the warmth and laughter of the guards behind me.

Floyd owes me for this.

As I approached, Cara only seemed to notice me when I stood above her. She looked up with a curious expression.

"Mind if I sit with you?" I began, hoping to God I could pull the woman out of whatever funk she was in.

She looked at me for a moment before gesturing to a spot beside her. She continued to nibble on a loaf of bread as I sat down, reminding me that I was pretty hungry too. Shelter building can build up an appetite after all.

I withdrew some strips of rotten flesh from my backpack and tore into them ravenously. The flavor was as bad as ever, but I had gotten so used to it that I barely flinched from the taste.

Cara eyed the drop with disgust before rummaging through her backpack. She held out some bread to me. "Here. No Crafter should be forced to eat that stuff."

I swallowed a mouthful of the sickening drop before politely waving off her offer. "I'm fine with it. Really."

She raised an eyebrow at my words. "Don't tell me you're 'super macho' like Soul and never accept free food."

"What? No. It's just that I don't mind the flavor all that much. And I have other food options." I defended. Just to prove my point, I bit into the rotten flesh, holding it in my mouth, as I fished in my backpack for some of my other food items. "Fwee?" I replied, holding out pumpkin pies and cookies with my mouth full. "Enuff vood do lazst a wile."

Cara burst into a fit of laughs at my stuffed face and I internally congratulated myself at lifting her sad mood.

Once she got the laughs out of her system, she gave me a kind look. "Don't talk with your mouth full." She joked.

I quickly swallowed the drop and nodded as politely as I could.

"Still, you must have been pretty desperate to eat that stuff. I know I was." She added quietly as an afterthought. Fortunately, I was close enough to hear it.

"What made you eat rotten flesh?" I asked curiously.

Cara contemplated for a bit, looking deep within her memory. "It was just after I left the Origin Zone.

"Back then, I was just a helpless newb all on my own, with only a sword and a bow to defend myself. And while I was terrible with a sword, I took up archery pretty quickly.

"I was clueless as to which Kingdom was closer, or if there was any Kingdom to begin with, so I decided to head South. But instead of friendly Crafters, all I found were Zombies, Skeletons, and…cultists.

"They chased me down into a cave, where I figured I'd lost them…only to get lost myself. I was down there for days, and my food stores ran out…so to survive…well…" She looked away embarrassed. "When you're starving to death, rotten flesh can quickly look like a five-star meal."

I nodded in understanding. It must have been quite a traumatic experience. Trapped underground with no food.

"When I finally found my way out of those caves, I decided to keep a stack of food on person at all time. That's how I got into farming." She withdrew a wooden hoe from her backpack and did something to the dirt besides me.

The grass vanished to be replaced with tilled dirt, to which she added some green seeds from her belt and some strange white powder. Immediately the seeds began to grow, turning from green to yellow to a light brown.

Then, she broke the crops, spreading bushels of [WHEAT] in every direction. She picked them all up and set down a Crafting Table. "Bread was the easiest to grow. There were seeds to it everywhere and I just needed some dirt to plow and boom! Instant bread."

She held up a newly made loaf and chomped at it ravenously. Talking about her past had easily made her forget about her gloomy mood and restored her hunger.

"So what about you?" She asked, pointing a bread loaf at me. "What got you into rotten flesh?"

I thought back to when it happened and chuckled to myself. "Well, I wasn't running from anyone. No, I was running after someone."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. I was low on Hunger when I literally ran into Floyd." I reminisced as I gazed at the stars in the night sky. "He was the first Crafter I ever saw. And as far as first impressions go…he ran away from me. So I swallowed my pride with the rotten flesh to refill my Hunger and chased after him."

Cara looked expectantly, as if waiting for some greater part of the story. "That's it?"

"Well, I caught him. But yeah, that's it." I concluded rather lamely.

Cara combed a hand through her purple hair and smirked. "I was expecting some kind of desperate survival situation. You might want to come up with a better story to tell people."

"Hmm…Nah." I waved off as I held the rotten flesh against the night sky. "It might be the sickest thing I've ever eaten, but I think there'll come a time when I don't have any of the fancy food I have now. And when that time comes, I don't want to be weaned off this stuff. Especially when it's easily available."

"You could always try farming." Cara suggested, pointing at the gardening tool at her belt.

"Maybe." I answered vaguely.

Our conversation quickly devolved into silence as we ate in peace. Cara with her bread and me with my rotten flesh. The dull green particles representing the negative effects of the rotten flesh swirled around me, but only until I filled up my Hunger Meter and swapped to cookies. Then the particles died out.

The stars truly were beautiful out. And the moon with its light glow. All of them looked like some god had punched holes in the empty oblivion of space, filtering in light from some greater source.

"Hey, Cobb." Cara asked from beside me.

"Yeah?" I asked, wondering if she was about to tell me why she seemed sad a few moments ago.

She turned her head to look at me searchingly. "Do you…do you think Soul would have been a better leader for this mission?"

"Hell no." I replied without missing a beat.

Cara actually recoiled at my bluntness. "Really? Not even a second thought about—"

"No. Soul shouldn't be a leader." I repeated twice as confidently. "The guy's too bloodthirsty. Remember Wednesday's Griefer attack?"

Cara's face darkened. "Yes…I remember…my horse died."

I coughed awkwardly. "He…was a good horse."

"Female."

"She was a good horse." I corrected myself before continuing. "But my point is that Soul was willing to chase after those fleeing Griefers, into unknown territory, rather than stick with the group. Whenever there's a fight, he jumps right in. And that's not someone you want leading a group."

She looked sadly at her boots. "But Soul is also strong enough to make tough decisions." She argued. She was oddly persistent given how she was effectively pointing out her own faults as leader. "When I was pinned down, he didn't hesitate to kill my horse if it meant saving my life. I was too shocked to even think!"

I suddenly thought back to Cara's behavior. Her sullen mood did seem to originate after Wednesday's attacks, and she grew more subdued as the week went on.

"Tell me, Cobb." Cara began as she fixed me with an intent stare. "How did you get Soul to listen to you during that Griefer attack?"

"Wha?"

"The attack!" Cara repeated, slightly annoyed. "You and him were working in perfect tandem, reeling in and chopping up Griefers like no tomorrow! How did you get him to follow your orders?"

"Oh, I just listened to my internal organs."

"…"

Shit! I forgot! Not everyone has internal organs that advise their decisions!

Or…maybe not everyone is crazy like me…

Not really sure.

"Do you…mean you listened to your gut?" She clarified. "Your instinct?"

Yes! An easy out! "Yeah…instinct…let's go with that. But really, I just made him want what I wanted him to do. Then he did it. But that only worked because he's bloodthirsty, which I could satisfy by pulling in enemies."

Cara grimaced at my explanation. "Too manipulative for me. Your method sounds like something Brett would do."

The name Brett sounded familiar, before I remembered he was the leader of the Silver Intent and someone of great suspicion.

"What can you tell me about Brett?" I asked my purple-haired companion, to which she stiffened.

"What is there to tell?" She asked carefully. I could tell she knew what I suspected. But I was unsure of how much I could give away without revealing what Wynn truly thought about Brett.

I took a deep breath before continuing. "I've heard some things about him. He seems charming and all smiles, but he completely changes when torturing information out of cultists."

Cara closed her eyes and frowned to herself, but didn't speak against the claims I was making. I took that as an affirmation.

"And I've seen enough of Soul's work to make me wonder if Brett is influencing his people towards a more violent route." At that moment, I realized why I hated the idea of Soul and Floyd getting along and bonding over Wednesday's kills. I was worried that Floyd would become every bit as ruthless as Soul; killing defenseless enemies just for the sake of tying up loose ends. He would sacrifice his mercy for bloodlust.

And I feared sticking with the Silver Intent would only be worse for him.

"No! That's not true at all!" Cara argued with apprehensive aqua-marine eyes. "Brett may be manipulative, but Soul is acting as he sees fit. And after all he's been through, I can't blame him for his fighting methods."

"Self defense I can understand. But his 'methods' are literally overkill! I've seen him kill unconscious goons; men that couldn't even lift up a sword! How is that right!?"

"Well what about you, fisherman!?" Cara rose in volume to match my shouts, though the title of fisherman felt strange to my ears. "That Griefer you let go almost killed Floyd! Did you just assume he would leave peacefully? A Griefer!?"

"That…I—He looked like he was sorry!" I defended weakly.

"Soul would have seen him for the liar he was!"

A grit my teeth in annoyance. Soul wouldn't have cared if it was a lie of not; he would've swung an axe into him all the same. "Well if you think so much of him, maybe he should be leader! And then you can watch him lead you guys into every fight!"

Cara's expression softened at my exclamation. "It's not that I…he'd be…" She trailed off as she focused on her boots again. Then she pulled her goggles down over her eyes as if to hide something. Her next words sounded so small. "I don't know what I'm doing."

Her words were like a bucket of water, extinguishing our heated argument and returning us to silence. That was probably the core of her concerns; being a good leader.

When I didn't immediately respond, she continued. "I don't know if any of my choices are the right ones. Or if I'm being responsible pushing my leadership onto someone else…I just don't know."

I stayed silent for several moments, thinking what was best to say to her. Then I heard faint sniffling and saw her wipe her nose on her tank top. I couldn't see through her goggles, but I could tell she was crying. She must have been pretty burdened.

I scratched my chin awkwardly while thinking up what to say. "Well…I don't know what I'm doing most of the time." I conceded.

She laughed a little at my statement, but was still focused on her boots, refusing to look at me.

So then I thought of something else. "Can I tell you something?"

I took her silence as a 'yes'.

"Floyd really wants to avenge his friend and take on the Endward Cult." I explained hesitantly, for once realizing where my real issues with Soul lay. "But when I think about searching for cultists and actively trying to kill them, I can't find a reason to do it other than 'it's what Floyd wants'.

"And…I get it. The Endward Cult is a bad group. They hurt and kill people…but going after them goes against my self-defensive way of fighting. If they attack me or my friends, then obviously I'm going to fight back…but I don't think I'm selfless enough to follow Floyd against them, just on loyalty alone.

"And then there's Soul, a man who is willing to strike the cult and someone from Floyd's past. Considering his goals, Floyd has more to gain siding with him than with me. And if that happens…"

I'll lose a best friend. I finished in my mind. Sure it was selfish, but after everything the two of us went through, I didn't want to give that up. That connection.

A connection I was sure would break if Floyd continued with the Silver Intent. I knew I wouldn't be able to join an organization like that if it meant starting a war with a cult of killers.

After hearing my confession, Cara let out a long, drawn-out sigh and tore up some grass besides her. "If you're worried about them becoming friends…don't." She didn't look at me when she said that, despite the questions it brought up.

"What…what do you mean?" I asked. It almost sounded like she was certain the two wouldn't make up.

"Yes. What do you mean?" Came a third voice directly in front of us. We were so absorbed in our discussion that we failed to notice Wynn approaching. And she seemed quite interested in the topics we were not-so-subtly screaming about just moments ago.

Without thinking, I said the first thing that came to mind when faced with the ivory-haired fencer.

"Nobody likes an eavesdropper, Captain."

[Floyd]

"UGH!" I groaned as I hit the ground. Hard.

At first, we were pretty even. But then my exhaustion really hit me. I had no second wind because I was already well into my third of fourth wind, so Soul easily wiped the floor with me in the latter half of our spar. It got to the point where he used his fists to prevent any fatal damage with his axe.

To my credit, I tried to get back to my feet and continue. But Soul was already leaning against a tree, calling the match to an end.

"You're too sluggish." He chastised with a scowl. "Usually you'd be zipping past me, but I barely broke a sweat keeping up with you."

"Ah, well…" I panted as I propped myself up against a tree. "I didn't want to use a Swiftness Potion on a spar between frie—" I stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening in panic over my slip-up. I was so caught up in the camaraderie of sparring that I almost used that word.

Soul didn't look like he took it well. "Yeah, you better cut yourself off there. Because you and I are co-workers and teammates. Not friends." His eyes were as solid as steel, emphasizing his own stalwart stand on our affiliation.

But I wasn't.

"Soul, I've joined up with the Silver Intent, I've apologized over and over, and this whole week I've been trying to reconnect." I ticked off my fingers for each point. "What more will it take for you to forgive me and repair our friendship?"

Soul's eyes narrowed and his eyes sharpened. "Nothing you say is going to convince me. You chose your own life over your friends. And trust broken like that isn't so easily fixed."

I looked at the ground guiltily. I should have known he'd never forgive me. Even after everything, he still hung on to that day in Miner's Warren.

That was one thing we had in common: we both hung on to the past. Though in my case it was causing serious insomnia.

"And as for avenging Silent," Soul continued without bothering to look at me, "I don't think you're willing to go through with it."

A flash of anger flared in my chest. "Now wait just a second! Of course, I'm going to avenge him! The Cult's going to pay for every Crafter they ever hurt or murdered, and I'll make it my life's mission to see that happen! Why would that even be a question?"

"Two words." Soul held up two fingers with his back facing me. "King. Cobb."

The anger I had felt began to ebb away at Soul's statement, leaving nothing but confusion. "Cobb? What does he have to do with…oh, is this because he let that Griefer go?" I addressed the topic exasperatedly. It was really no big deal. In fact, it had been a relief to hear that the Griefer I killed was a lying sack of shit, willing to backstab the very people that showed him mercy.

Good riddance.

"It's exactly that." Soul replied, finally turning to face me. "Cobb may know his way around Creepers and fishing rods, but he's a newb! And an empathetic one to boot. Sparing the ones trying to kill him. What a joke!"

"So, what?" I questioned, not liking where the conversation was going. "Cobb showing mercy is a problem?"

"It is when our mission is literally the COMPLETE ERADICATION of the Endward Cult!" Soul stressed exaggeratedly. "Seriously! How many complete eradications involve showing mercy?"

"But…Cobb isn't a member of the Intent! I am!" I shouted, barely stifling an exhausted yawn. I couldn't afford to let my exhausted mind impair my argument.

"You're friends with him." Soul clarified. "Friends with someone who, I can tell, has no stake in our Endward Cult revenge plan! Brett and Cara? They both have lost people and want to see the cult burn! But Cobb is just some lost newb with nothing else to occupy his time except follow you around! And look what happened! Our Nitebane mission has been delayed because you had to work everything along with HIS schedule!"

As much as I wanted to argue with Soul, everything he said had a ring of truth. Cobb wasn't nearly as invested with destroying the cult as I was. And if we hadn't have traveled with Wynn's group, we would have been a lot closer to Nitebane.

"Actions speak louder than words, Floyd. If you really want to prove to me that you're ready to avenge Silent, then cut off that newb holding you back."

"You can't ask me to choose between my friends, Soul." I begged. There had to be another way to convince him. Any other way! "He's saved my life and I've saved his! It's because of him that I even worked up the courage to try and fix things between us!"

"That's my one and only offer." Soul clarified as he hefted his axe over his shoulder and tossed me a spare cooked porkchop. "It's either him or me. And believe you me. Against the cult, we both know who's in it for the long run."

And with that final word, Soul headed back towards the camp. I waited for a few minutes, thoughts frantically weighing the pros and cons of his argument. Cobb was obviously more understanding of…everything! But despite his skills, an axe wielder would ultimately be more suited to combating the cult than a fisherman.

Was avenging Silent with Soul really worth abandoning Cobb?

Cobb or Soul.

Cobb or Soul.

Cobb or Soul.

Cobb.

'I'll…be fine with you taking his side over mine. If it means you stay in his good graces…'

Soul.

'Cobb may know his way around Creepers and fishing rods, but he's a newb! And an empathetic one to boot…'

Cobb…

'We…killed someone. But, it's okay as long as it's self-defense right?'

Soul…

'It's do-or-die out there. And if you keep doing the way you're doing…you're going to end up dying…'

I let out a weary sigh, feeling like shit and exhausted far past the point of sleep, before I stumbled sluggishly out of the clearing.

What the fuck am I supposed to do!?

[Cobb]

"Ow!"

I massaged my head where Wynn just smacked me for my comment. Though the pain was trivial in comparison to what I knew she was capable of with that rapier. Just looking at it made me shield my crotch.

Wynn wiped the side of her hand on the grass, as if worrying that I might dirty her hand somehow, and turned her attention to Cara. "I couldn't help but overhear that you're having leadership issues." She spoke it as a statement more than a question, to which Cara nodded sadly.

Wynn sat down so that her legs were crossed and she was facing us. "Well then, why don't we have a little talk about the whole leadership thing."

"What would you know about…oh, right. You're a Captain." I realized mid-sentence.

Wynn just ignored me, keeping her attention focused on Cara. "This is your first mission. So you're a little unsure about things, right?" Cara nodded in response. "Well then, why don't you start by telling me what's burdening your group? And what's going on between Soul and Floyd?

Cara gulped and spared an apologetic glance my way before replying. "Floyd…has been having nightmares. Bad ones."

The news came as a shock to me. Floyd had never once mentioned he was having nightmares. Was that why he wasn't sleeping well?

"He…he mumbles in his sleep, so I have a good idea on what they're about. He always mentions a man named Silent and then Soul…and sometimes Cobb." She glanced at me again, but I barely paid her any attention, instead focusing on the information. "From what I can tell, he's guilty over a friend's death, and that guilt is fueling his nightmares…and it's getting worse."

Wynn nodded at this. "And what does Soul have to say about it?"

Cara let out a humorless laugh. "Soul? The guy snores like a bear. Doesn't hear any of Floyd's thrashings or screams. Only I'm hearing them and Floyd doesn't want me to tell…er…didn't want me to tell anyone. Kind of already happened." She scratched her head sheepishly. "Just another screw-up from me."

"You've had plenty of screw-ups, even before that one." Wynn asserted while I was still hung up on Floyd's thrashings and screams. If he was suffering so much, then why was he keeping everything a secret? Didn't he realize how it was affecting his health?

"Why tell us instead of Soul? He's your teammate, no?" Wynn asked while flipping her hair to the side.

Cara shook her head. "That's…the other thing. Soul and Floyd are sort of at odds right now. Floyd wants to rekindle their friendship…and Soul would rather keep things professional as teammates. So Floyd probably doesn't want Soul to know about his nightmares…because it would force Soul to automatically forgive him. Soul may be stubborn, but not to the point of risking a comrade's health."

Cara gave me another apologetic look before continuing. "And on top of that, Brett asked me to push the two of them towards reconciling…as a sort of insurance over Floyd's loyalty. He'd be more likely to help our group if it had helped reunite him with his friend."

My eyes narrowed at her words. Wynn had been right about Brett all along. The guy was a manipulative bastard, willing to hold a friendship over Floyd like a bone over a dog.

And Cara was just as bad! Now all of her actions over the first half of the week made sense. Leaving Soul and Floyd alone to fish and gather planks. She knew it, and still went through with it all!

No leader would do that!

Wynn hummed in thought as she mulled over Cara's words. I couldn't tell what she was going to say, but I knew that I was going to give Cara a piece of my enraged newby mind if she didn't say something soon.

"I'm sorry, Cobb." Cara looked away guiltily as she said that. "I…I knew it was wrong to manipulate things, but I…I just thought it would be the best for the team. To all work as one."

"Well, that turned out great." I replied caustically to which she flinched. "No wonder you're doubting yourself as leader."

She shrunk into herself just as Wynn cleared her throat to call our attention.

"Well, based on what you've told me, I have to say that you're a far more capable leader than Brett." Cara and I shared shocked looks as if mishearing the Captain. "He basically gave you two teammates, complete with a set of problems, and expected you to fix them on top of whatever godforsaken mission he's sent you on. That's a lot of pressure for a first-timer.

"And while your methods of handling things are terrible given the situation, the pressure of keeping everything together is understandably weighing you down." Wynn patted her shoulder comfortingly. "But that just makes it a good learning experience as a leader."

"What do you mean?" Cara asked, clearly confused.

"Brett's dealt you a bad hand, Cara." Wynn clarified. "It's up to you to make the best of it."

Cara looked down at her boots. "I'm not sure I know how."

Looking at Cara's dejected form reminded me of why I came over in the first place. Clearly she wasn't going to win any leader-of-the-year awards anytime soon, but I had to help her. Especially if it meant helping Floyd resolve his nightmare issues by extension.

"Why don't you try talking." I suggested, to which Cara looked at me tentatively, as if worried I'd snap again. "I mean, we learned a bit about our own problems by talking…maybe it'll work with them?"

"While I'd normally ignore the advice of a non-leader such as Cobb," Wynn commented to my chagrin. "I have to agree with him on this one. Often times, people assume their way is the only way, without first seeing things from another's perspective."

"Yeah. Kind of like you when you said the fishing rod wasn't a good weapon when it—"

"SHUT IT."

"Shutting it." I mimed zipping my lips and throwing away the zipper. All the while my eyes were locked to her hand hovering over her rapier.

Wynn took a breath to calm herself before lifting her hand off her blade. "So getting your team to talk things out might help them understand one another better."

"But what if talking makes things worse." Cara argued carefully. "What if trying to fix things the right way, just makes them hate me? How am I supposed to lead people that hate me?"

"Being a leader necessitates difficult choices." Wynn advised sagely. "It's your responsibility to make such decisions."

"Even if it means being hated?"

"Especially if it means being hated." That last piece of advice didn't really make sense to me. Nor did it appear to make sense to Cara, who just raised an eyebrow in confusion. "The choices I make might earn resentment, but if they keep my guards alive, I'd much rather hear their hate than not hear them at all."

"Does that extend to me, too?" I asked innocently.

"You're wearing our colors aren't you?" She posed rhetorically while gesturing to my green tunic.

"Okay, good. Because I have a lot of resentments I'd like to share with you. First off—"

"On second thought, maybe hearing your resentments isn't worth that much…" She commented harshly, even though I could tell she didn't mean it.

…Probably.

Cara thought to herself for a bit, mumbling things over in her head. "Whatever keeps them alive…" She trailed off before directing her gaze towards us. "You know what? You're absolutely right."

She stood up and pumped a fist in the air. "Screw Brett for screwing me over! I'm going to fix this and show everyone I'm leader material!"

"You certainly have the enthusiasm." Wynn smiled kindly as she got up from her spot. "Just think carefully before you act. After all, their lives are in your hands."

Cara nodded confidently. "Then it's a good thing I already have a plan in the works. Time for the new Cara to spring into action!" At those words, she boldly marched towards where Soul and Floyd were just entering the camp, but then stopped to turn back towards me and Wynn. "Thanks for the advice you two. I won't let it go to waste!"

As she left to talk with Soul and Floyd, I couldn't help but stare at the half-completed tree house that was supposed to be their shelter. Wasn't it her job to build that?

"Um…" I began hesitantly, before thinking better of it and leaving Cara to sort her shelter out.

After all, as Wynn so wisely put it:

'That just makes it a good learning experience as a leader.'

Inventory (Cobb): 1 Wooden Shovel, 1 Stone Sword, 1 Golden Sword [Sharpness I, Unbreaking I]{Weak}, 1 Wooden Pickaxe, 1 Wooden Pickaxe {Weak}, 1 Iron Pickaxe, 1 Wooden Axe {Weak}, 1 Bow {Weak}, 1 Fishing Rod, 54 Cobblestone, 64 Granite, 64 Andesite, 64 Diorite, 12 Flint, 1 Coal, 20 Torches, 1 Minecart, 64 Oak Wood Planks, 32 Oak Wood Planks, 8 Oak Wood Stairs, 1 Oak Wood Door, 1 Clock, 45 Dirt, 2 Signs, 1 Water Bucket, 3 Glass Bottles, 10 String, 2 Ender Pearls, 11 Baked Potatoes, 19 Pumpkin Pies, 39 Cookies, 1 Leather Cap, 1 Leather Tunic [Dyed Green, Unbreaking I], 1 Crafting Table, 1 Furnace, 21 Rotten Flesh, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Entry Pass}

Inventory (Ace the Ass): 8 Lapis Lazuli, 34 Iron Ore, 10 Gold Ore, 13 Coal

Inventory (Floyd): Wooden Shovel, 1 Wooden Pickaxe, 1 Iron Pickaxe, 1 Iron Sword, 1 Wooden Sword {Weak}, 1 Wooden Axe {Weak}, 1 Bow, 1 Fishing Rod, 1 Furnace, 1 Crafting Table, 3 Sticks, 37 Oak Wood Planks, 17 Cobblestone, 1 Oak Wood Door, 1 Minecart, 1 Book {Miner's Warren}, 1 Potion of Fire Resistance {8:00}, 1 Potion of Fire Resistance {8:00}, 1 Potion of Fire Resistance {8:00}, 1 Potion of Swiftness II {1:30}, 1 Potion of Water Breathing {8:00}, 2 Flint, 2 Gunpowder, 9 String, 14 Cooked Fish, 1 Raw Mutton, 1 Cooked Porkchop, 10 Ink Sacs, 3 Wool, 2 Arrows, 1 Iron Helmet, 1 Iron Chestplate, 1 Iron Leggings, 1 Iron Boots, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Entry Pass}, 4 Emeralds

AN: Yeah...Cobb and Soul don't like each other that much. And Floyd is in the middle all like 'You're tearing me apart!'

Also, Floyd may or may not be hallucinating things. Several days of no sleep will do that to you.

And we finally got some insight into Cara's leadership issues. I debated whether to just have Cobb or Wynn talk to her separately before just putting them both in. It made sense, what with Wynn's leadership and Cobb's dislike of Soul.

So, yeah. Not a very humorous chapter but definitely a character heavy one. Hope you enjoyed and see you next week. Bye.

Omake: Team-building

This is my greatest idea ever! Cara congratulated herself as she sat down on the grass, positively brimming with happiness. After all, a positive attitude was the first step to leading a happy team.

Now if only the rest of her group showed the same enthusiasm.

Floyd was barely keeping his eyes open. Soul had his arms folded and was begrudging muttering things like 'This is a waste of time' and 'Why the hell am I doing this?' And Cobb, who had reluctantly agreed to join Cara's 'team-building' exercises after several minutes of begging and bribing, was eyeing Soul disdainfully. The four of them sat in a circle away from Wynn and her guards.

Even though Cobb wasn't a part of the Silver Intent, Cara really needed a third person for some of the team-building exercises. Wynn had politely declined so the fisherman was her only alternative.

Finally, Cara cleared her throat. "I'm glad you all agreed to come to my first team-building exercise." She knew she had to sound confident and authoritative; otherwise they wouldn't listen to her.

Soul raised his hand. "You make it sound like we had a choice."

"And I'm only here because you promised cooked meats." Cobb challenged before Cara tossed him a hunk of cooked mutton, which he caught in his mouth and ate contentedly. "Alright, I'm pacified."

"Moving right along," Cara continued as she read from a book of team-building exercises. "We're going to be starting off with an old favorite, 'Trust Falls!'"

Floyd let out a loud yawn. "Isn't that where we're supposed to close our eyes and fall back, hoping that our partner will catch us before we hit the ground?"

"Exactly!" Cara congratulated with enthusiasm. It was important to offer praise as positive reinforcement when someone answered something right, just like it was important to be supportive and understanding when someone did something wrong.

However, at the explanation of trust falls, Soul and Cobb eyed each other distrustfully; both of them doubting the other would catch them.

"Uh…why don't we start with Floyd falling." Cara suggested in an attempt to alleviate tension. Though it seemed to make things worse as both Soul and Cobb raised their hands.

"I'll catch Floyd. After all, we are friends."

"I think Floyd would trust someone stronger to catch him rather than some newb with string bean arms."

"My arms are not string beans! Why does everyone keep saying that!?"

As Cobb seethed, Cara quickly tossed him another piece of mutton to prevent a fight from breaking out. That would come later in exercise three when they'd use blocks of wool to beat each other up and work out stress. Therapeutic violence.

Cobb busied himself with the mutton while Floyd got up and turned his back to Soul who opened his arms wide.

"Okay, then. Whenever you're ready, Floyd." Cara spoke as she watched the scene. Floyd slowly fell backwards and was caught in Soul's arms before being pushed back to a standing position. "Good! Now it's Cobb's turn to catch Soul."

"Wait, what?" Soul asked while Cobb's lips broke out into a devious smirk. "Can't we just skip my—"

"Soul." Cara warned before pointing to Cobb. "Trust. Fall."

He grumbled to himself as he turned his back to Cobb. "If you drop me, I swear to God…"

Cobb took his position, not even bothering to respond, as Soul fell backwards…and hit the ground with a dull thud. His head snapped back upon hitting the ground and he clutched it painfully.

"You little—" Soul grit his teeth and flashed his red eyes dangerously. He moved his hand to his belt to withdraw his axe.

Cobb just shrugged, trying to look apologetic. "Whoops. Guess your weight was too much for my string bean arms to handle." He couldn't hold back his self-satisfied smile and Cara just shook her head. She needed a way to balance out the discontent.

Suddenly, an idea hit her. "Alright, now Soul catch Cobb."

Immediately, Cobb's smile vanished and his eyes widened. "Um…I think it's actually Floyd's turn to catch—"

"Turn around." Soul growled, pressing an axe against Cobb's throat. Violence was probably not the best motivational tool, but Cara admitted that Cobb had it coming for screwing up the trust fall to begin with.

Cobb trembled as he turned around so that his back was facing Soul, who still had an axe to his neck.

"Now fall."

Cobb closed his eyes, already accepting that Soul would drop him before he even fell, and slowly leaned backwards.

Surprisingly, Soul caught him, keeping the fisherman from hitting the ground. Cobb overcame his shock before looking up to offer Soul a relieved smile.

That smile soon turned fearful at Soul's sinister sneer.

Soul quickly reached down to get a better hold of Cobb's leg and lifted the flailing Crafter above his head before spinning him around.

At that point, Cara was certain the team-building exercises had failed. "Floyd! Quick! Help me stop—" She turned and deadpanned to see the blue-nette already asleep. "Literally, every time I need your help..."

Cara rushed forward, alone, and tried to stop Soul from spinning the now terrified Cobb. "Soul, put him down! This is not beneficial to a team environment!"

"He's not on my team." Soul grinned as he used the spinning momentum to chuck Cobb into a tree. "Though, I take back what I said. These team-building exercises are kind of fun. We should do them more often."

"My leg…" Cobb groaned from atop his tree.

Cara thought to herself before tossing Cobb two pieces of mutton for the trouble. One thing was for sure, if she was going to continue the team-building exercises, she'd need waaaaay more mutton.

AN: Muttontastic.