AN: Greetings, all you 'My Craft' fans! Did you miss me?

Hope you all had a Merry Christmahanakwanzika and enjoyed the minimum two weeks you got off of school. Or maybe more if you had snowstorms and mother nature throwing you a bone.

I for one had an excellent Hiatus, thanks for asking. Nothing like sipping fruity umbrella drinks on a lawn chair in the beautiful winter sun. May have lost a few fingers to frostbite, but, I mean, ring fingers are overated anyway. I type everything chickenscratch.

Also, my flashdrive was stolen after I left it in a computer, forgot about it, and didn't come back for it until a day later. Whoever stole it must be a criminal genius.

So, please allow a moment of silence for my lost flash drive. May it find everlasting peace in that big, USB port in the sky.

...

In other news... I passed 100 Favs and Follows! HOOOOOOOOOOOOO! That's crazy! You guys are so awesome!

And it was during my Hiatus too! Man, I should go on Hiatus more often.

...

Hahaha! I kid, I kid!

...Mostly.

Anyway where was I in the story? I don't think anything plot-significant or cliff-hanger-y happened last Chapter, yeah? Yeah.

Disclaimer: I don't own Minecraft. If I did, I'd add stone jut biomes.

Beta: Void of Shining Darkness

*==Part III==*

The Silver Intent have returned from their mission to the dangerous ruined Kingdom of Nitebane. But... what happened to Floyd? As Cobb struggles to cope with loss and desperately tries to piece together what matters most to him, he resorts to drastic measures. His solution to the pain? Obliterate the Endward Cult. Meanwhile, Carys dons her Wither Skull mask, leading her own crusade in a play for power.

Chapter 63

Ten Days Past

"Where is Floyd?"

He has to be fine. He's Floyd. He's probably just out mining or looking for me. He's a good friend like that, always looking out for me, even when I promised him I could take care of myself.

"Cobb." Soul walked up to me, his face as stoic and resolute as stone. "Floyd is—"

No.

No. No no no!

This isn't right!

This is wrong!

"Where is Floyd?" My voice was faint as my eyes blurred with something wet leaking from them.

Soul's crimson eyes narrowed, but not out of hatred.

"Floyd's dead."

[Ten Days Ago]

The moon shone high, faintly illuminating the rocky expanse that stretched for miles. Solid shards of stone jutted out of the ground at multiple angles, forming natural cover from the cold winds.

Under one such rocky cover laid three Silver Intent members. Cara and Soul were sound asleep while Floyd was perched on a crafting table turned chair, his head nodding as he struggled to stay awake.

How many days had it been, he wondered, since they separated from Cobb and Wynn. Traveling by boat down the Kawa River had taken little time compared to riding horseback. And there had been a pleasant lack of Griefers when crossing the Restful Meadows.

But when the terrain had changed from grassy meadows to a rocky expanse…that's when things got bad. Packs of Griefers passed by regularly, forcing the Silver Intent trio to keep to the shadows.

And where there were shadows, there were Mobs.

Soul and Cara had managed for the most part…but Floyd was downright useless. Not for lack of trying, however.

Floyd hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since he first joined the Intent. His night terrors reliving the death of his friend or envisioning the deaths of his friends had robbed him of rest. They had gotten so bad that he had remained awake for over a week just to make them stop.

Which led to his current exhaustion as he kept watch for the group. It was actually Soul's turn to keep watch, and Floyd was supposed to wake him up to switch…but he just couldn't find the point in doing so.

His eyelids felt so heavy and he was hunched over, his body lacking the energy to fight back against gravity. He knew he would be fine if he could just get some rest.

But he also knew that with rest came those nightmares. And he couldn't face those again. They were too real. Too vivid. He'd wake up screaming and then Cara would worry about him and Soul would look down on him.

He didn't want that.

He'd figure out a solution on his own.

This was his guilt eating away at him. This was his problem to face. Nobody else's.

"Mmh…" Floyd jerked his head up, hand flying to the sword at his belt, only to relax upon realizing the sound was only Cara talking in her sleep. "N-no officer, I— *yawn* —have no idea how that cult-controlled building caught fire… Must have been the wind…"

Cara turned over in her sleep, subconsciously reaching into her backpack for something. When she started striking her hands together, Floyd was sure that if he hadn't confiscated her flint and steel while she slept, she would have committed sleep arson every night.

As Floyd blinked blearily, his eyelids finding it harder and harder to re-open, he eventually just closed them, listening to the ocean winds whistle across the rocky terrain.

Floyd didn't know how long he kept his eyes closed, just listening to the peaceful winds. But eventually his ears picked up a slight shuffling sound approaching their camp.

His hand made its way to his belt before he slowly opened his eyes, focusing in on the blur of a shape approaching him.

Slicked white hair. Rectangular pince-nez glasses that served like windows to those piercing light blue eyes. The long-sleeve lavender shirt with black sleeves and a pair of cobalt jeans.

It was his dead friend: Silent_Game.

Floyd moaned to himself. "Oh, joy. I fell asleep again." That was the only logical reason for him to be seeing a dead friend. It had caught him by surprise the first four or five times it happened, but now he was ashamed to say he was used to Silent showing up in his dreams.

He was a ghost, whose presence served as a haunting reminder of just how weak he was.

"Well, let's get this over with so I can wake up screaming and continue guarding the camp." Floyd picked himself off the ground (an action made much harder by his exhaustion) as he—

…

Why would I be exhausted in my dream?

No matter how bad his nightmares got, he was never usually tired or exhausted. He was just…there. A witness to the horrors his guilty mind could come up with.

But here…here he was still dead tired. And, now that he thought about it, the surroundings weren't blurry and unrecognizable as they usually were within his dreams. They were very clear and detailed. The scratch marks on the ground. The cold wind still whistling across the rocks. The moon hovering overhead.

The sensations were too real for it to be a dream. And Soul and Cara were still snoozing away without a care in the world.

"What…what is this?" Floyd took a step back from the apparition of Silent which was still staring at him with his piercing eyes. "You…no matter how badly I want you to be here…this can't be real!" His voice took on an edge of panic.

This was the second time Floyd had seen Silent, post-death, without it being a dream. But why was he even seeing him in the first place.

Silent stood true to his name, not making a sound and watching the blue-nette grow increasingly more panicked. Those eyes of his weren't dead. They were filled with sorrow and a twinge of resentment.

"Whatever you want, just say it!" Floyd shouted, his voice echoing across the terrain and causing Cara to stir. "I'm sorry! I…I didn't mean to—!"

"You didn't mean to?"

Floyd's words were cut off immediately by the icy tone his deceased friend used. The way it chilled his bones, robbing him of any and all warmth.

"What part didn't you mean to?" Silent questioned as he tilted his head, making the lenses of his glasses opaque again. Floyd didn't know whether he preferred the opaque lenses or the piercing light blue eyes. Both were equally creepy.

"I…I didn't mean to-to…to run away!"

"Liar." Silent whispered, causing Floyd to flinch. "You fully intended to run. Just like you fully intended to abandon Soul to die. You're lucky he survived…or rather," Silent raised his glasses and smirked slightly. "Is it perhaps you feel unlucky he survived?"

"W-what?" Floyd was taken aback at the apparition's latest remark. "What do you mean? I'm relieved Soul is alive!"

"Is that right? Having a constant reminder of your cowardice hanging around you? Having him throw all those guilty feelings back in your face?" Silent continued, his voice carrying with the wind. "You can't tell me you wouldn't rather have all memories of that day expunged. Think of how much less you'd have to worry about earning Soul's forgiveness. Isn't it too much hassle when you could just as easily wish him dead so you can start anew with Cobb?"

"Shut up!" Floyd shouted. "Cobb and Soul are both my friends! And I'm gonna redeem myself! I'm not the same weakling as I was before!"

The apparition of Silent chuckled darkly. "True. However…you're not as strong as you could be."

As Silent spoke this, two dark lines began to form over his light blue eyes—the same lines as Floyd's. He pointed to them meaningfully, even as his sclerae turned black and a dark smoke began to seep from them. The smoke swirled around him, coalescing to encompass his entire being.

Floyd's eyes widened in shock. "What's with that smoke…What are you doing?" He demanded.

Silent shook his head. "It's not what I'm doing…take a look at yourself."

Floyd turned down to look and gasped when he saw his hand cloaked with that same mysterious dark smoke. It felt cold...but also felt impervious to the exhaustion permeating the rest of his body.

"You didn't have to be a weakling that day." Silent stated as he approached Floyd. "With a power like yours…you could have murdered those two cultists. And I might still be alive." A tear slid down Silent's face. "The pain you must feel over my death…it must be staggering."

Floyd took half a step back. "Wait, what power are you… I… I don't understand…Gah!" As quickly as the smoke had enveloped his hand, it was gone. The smoke's absence left a tingling sensation on his arm, and no longer did it feel overflowing with power. Now, the blue-nette was left with a dull ache in his hand, feeling more exhausted than he did before.

Floyd clutched his hand as Silent got even closer, raising his arms as if to embrace him. "Now…just hold still…and I'll make your pain go away."

"I don't…?" Floyd blinked, watching the blurry form of Silent refocus into an approaching Creeper.

*sssssssSSSSS!*

"FLOYD!" Someone screamed.

An arrow quickly sunk into the Creeper's side, throwing it aside just enough to keep its blast from killing the blue-nette.

Floyd stumbled back, not just from the force of the explosion, but by how abruptly the apparition of Silent had melded back into reality. He had imagined that whole thing, but this was definitely no nightmare.

The conversation with Silent's ghost or whatever had distracted Floyd from noticing the pack of Mobs that had stumbled upon their camp. Zombies, Spiders, and Creepers had surrounded the three Silver Intent members and were now closing in.

Cara, who had been awoken by Floyd's shouting, already had her bow drawn and was shooting any Mob in sight. "Soul! Wake up! We need your angst- fueled anger now more than ever!"

"Whu—Geez!" Soul rolled to life as a Spider nearly pounced on him. A second later and his iron axe was buried into the arachnid's face. "God, is a good night's sleep too much to ask for!? How'd all these Mobs get the jump on us?"

"Later!" Cara threw out hastily as she shot a Creeper on Soul's left. "Floyd! Get over here! We need to form a protective circle!"

Floyd blinked in confusion, still registering the current situation. Approaching Mobs. Imminent danger. "Oh…R-right!"

He reached for his iron sword, intending to fight his way to his fellow Silver Intent members, but found his left hand too weak to even grasp his weapon. In fact, it wasn't just weak. It felt almost foreign to him, like he was using a different hand entirely. A numbed and useless hand.

The same hand that was enveloped in smoke before.

"Floyd? Floyd!" Cara called out as several Zombies surrounded the blue-nette. He could do little but push them away with his one functioning hand. Couple that with his exhaustion and the Zombies were having a field day clawing and batting him around.

"Out of the way!" Soul downed his last, precious Strength Potion and came barreling through the approaching Mobs. Again and again his iron axe fell, dispatching Spiders and Zombies, while Cara picked off the Creepers with her bow. In their wake was a trail of gunpowder, string, and rotten flesh from the fallen Mobs.

By the time they reached Floyd, the exhausted Crafter was managing a feeble, curled-up resistance to the onslaught of Zombies. Soul actually dove into the crowd of Zombies, and for a few moments, nothing happened.

But the next instant, flashes of silver violently whipped around inside the crowd of Zombies, thinning their numbers drastically.

Floyd, after using his still-functioning hand to withdraw his sword, helped as much as he could. Though for every Zombie he struggled to kill, Soul had effortlessly slain five.

Together, the three Silver Intent members cleared away the Mobs until, with one final swing of his axe, Soul chopped the last Zombie into hunks of rotten flesh.

Safe for the moment, the three took a few calming breaths, Floyd's being noticeably more labored.

"What. The hell. Was THAT!"

Soul was the first to assign blame, marching up to the blue-nette with anger flaring in his crimson eyes. "I wake up from a dead sleep only to be greeted, not by a delicious and well-balanced breakfast, but by three-square meals of Spiders to the face, with a side of Creepers and Zombies! What happened!? Wasn't it your shift!?"

Under Soul's accusing glare, Floyd could only look down in shame. "I-I'm sorry, I just…" Floyd flexed his left hand, trying to regain feeling in it. Trying to figure out which parts of Silent's hallucination were real or not. "I must have… passed out. Sorry."

That did little to calm Soul down. In fact, it seemed to make him even madder. "Passed out? The whole point of shifts is so that you don't get tired!" Soul gripped his axe tighter. "You feel like nodding off, you wake the next guy up! That's just common—!"

"Soul, calm down!" The purple-haired Cara, mediator and leader of the trio, was quick to intervene. "It was an honest mistake. We covered a lot of ground today. Floyd probably just underestimated how tired he was. Right, Floyd?"

The blue-nette nodded numbly, not really listening to Cara's defense. Her words wouldn't change the fact that he screwed up. Again! He was supposed to keep watch, or at least swap with Soul if he couldn't. Instead he messed up on both counts.

And that apparition of Silent… or whatever it was… had he imagined that? It was hard to admit, but with Silent_Game proven dead, there was no other possibility: He was seeing things.

His sleep deprivation and guilt were making him see things. Making him hear things too, if that conversation was any indication.

And that smoke around his left arm… It must have been another hallucination. Though why it still felt numb, he had no idea. Maybe he was so tired that parts of his body were just falling asleep on him.

Floyd shuddered as the memory of Silent's apparition walking up to embrace him, only for it to transform into a Creeper. It was like Silent was indirectly trying to kill him.

He didn't like the idea of that.

If Cara hadn't shot that Creeper and snapped him out of it…

He didn't like the idea of that, either.

After a few minutes of talking, Soul cooled down to a lukewarm resentment on the anger scale. "Tch… Whatever. This time, I'll keep watch. It's my shift anyway… and I won't screw up."

The brown-haired Crafter didn't bother to mutter that last comment. He spoke it loud and clear, with enough disappointment to make Floyd feel worse about himself. Cara frowned on, but it wasn't like she could make him take back the words.

"Let's just try and get some sleep. We'll need our rest for tomorrow." Cara advised before walking back to her bed. Soul, meanwhile, climbed the nearest jut of stone to get a better view. That left Floyd to drag himself over to his own bed and lie down, but not actually get any rest if his nightmares had anything to say about it.

As the blue-nette shifted on his comfy bed, he noticed Cara's aqua-marine eyes, wide open and watching him. She was making sure he actually got some sleep.

Floyd knew she meant well to worry about him, but he also knew that sleep was unattainable in his current state. Not just because of his exhaustion, but also because of the guilt and thoughts of Silent raging around inside his head.

But he'd have to fool Cara into thinking he was sleeping. And it wasn't easy to pull one over on her. It would take acting skills far superior than anything a fake lawyer such as he could muster.

There was one way he could do it; a surefire move that would make it look like he was in a soundless slumber and put Cara's worries at ease.

And as Cara's eyes locked onto Floyd's purple ones, he realized he had to implement his move now!

It's do or die!

He rolled over.

Cara gave a slight huff that might have been a scoff before she broke her bed, stepped deliberately over Floyd's prone form, re-placed her bed, and laid down so that she once more had a good view of Floyd's face.

…

Damnit, she's good!

Out of moves, Floyd reluctantly admitted defeat by closing his eyes, hoping that he could keep his mind from drifting into the horrors of his subconscious.

The next day, the Silver Intent group continued their trek east, through the rocky expanse between them and Nitebane. While most of the Mobs that spawned in the night were incinerated by the rising sun, some were smart enough to take cover beneath the shade provided by juts of stone.

Whatever Mobs the group crossed, they eliminated silently. For there was more than Mobs to worry about as they approached Nitebane.

Bands of Griefers, sparse before, were now more numerous. And unlike the Griefers near Daymonte, these bands had consistent, durable armor. Not to mention almost all of them travelled by horse, with ample food hanging off their belts.

Cara had warned the group about such. Being so close to the Griefer capitol of Minecraftia, it was no wonder the Griefers were well supplied. Which was why it was incredibly important that they avoided being seen. Keeping to the shadows of the stone juts and waiting as large bands of fifty or so Griefers passed, while time-consuming, was the safest way into Nitebane.

Needless to say, Soul was more than a little restless.

"All I'm saying is I could take out forty—maybe fifty?—yeah, definitely fifty, if we just—"

"No. Bad Soul." Cara splashed him with a bottle of water, causing the axe-wielder to hiss and shield his face. Floyd, eyelids heavy, couldn't help but liken the scene to a cat being spritzed. "Even if you could take out fifty, the fighting would just draw a hundred more."

"Okay. And?"

Cara looked incredulously at him. "And then you'd have to fight a hundred more! And that would just draw two-hundred more!" She whispered.

Soul furrowed his brow as he contemplated. "That doesn't sound too bad—"

"No!" Another big splash of water, soaking him. "Bad! Floyd tell Soul that he's—wake up!"

Cara splashed the drowsy Floyd, shocking him awake. "Yes, I'm a lawyer— Oh, sorry. What were we saying?"

"We were saying how you didn't get enough sleep." Cara tossed her now empty water bottle, and glared disapprovingly at the blue-nette. "I thought I told you to get some sleep."

"I… I know, but… I just couldn't." Floyd looked away as he rubbed his left arm. "I closed my eyes and everything, but I just couldn't fall asleep." Noting Soul's critical glare, Floyd stood up a bit straighter and rubbed the bags out of his eyes. "But I'm fine! Really." He was trying to assuage their worries.

"Really?" Cara spared him a skeptical glance before turning her attention towards the passing Griefer packs. From their cover, she saw a momentary lapse in Griefers. "Then prove it."

"Um… okay. How do I—?"

"We can run to the next stone jut, and you're the fastest one here." Cara explained, watching Floyd carefully. "If you're as well rested as you say, you should have no trouble beating us there. And don't even think about cheating with a Swiftness Potion! I've been keeping track."

"I wasn't thinking that." Floyd lied, already taking his hand away from his backpack. "Fine. I'll show you guys I'm in top form. Whenever you're ready."

Cara nodded, gesturing to Soul to get ready to run. When everyone was ready, she held up three fingers.

She lowered the first…

Then the second…

Floyd kicked off the ground as soon as the last finger lowered. He ran as fast as he could, his purple eyes never losing focus of the jut of stone that was the finish line.

He huffed and puffed as he pushed himself harder and harder. His lungs were practically screaming for him to stop. He ignored it all and kept sprinting.

Then he watched as Soul passed him.

Was he always that fast? Floyd thought as he struggled to catch up. His legs were already starting to feel heavy, yet Soul seemed to be jogging effortlessly.

At least I'm still ahead of Cara. Floyd reasoned, trying to see the silver lining in things.

However, half-way to the jut of stone, Floyd turned his head to see how close Cara was…

And he gasped. It was one of shock and completely separate from his frantic gasps for air.

Because when the blue-nette turned to see where Cara was, he was surprised to see she hadn't left the starting line. She was just leaning on the stone jut, completely unconcerned with how much of a head-start she was giving everyone.

It was only when Soul finally made it to cover and Floyd was two-thirds finished that Cara finally ran out.

She was sprinting as fast as her legs could carry, her eyes showing laser-focus on her goal.

Floyd, meanwhile, had slowed to a crawl. Any energy he had, had been expelled to get him two-thirds of the way to the finish line. He was running on fumes, and Cara was gaining fast.

"N-no… c-can't… "

*Gasp*

"L-Lose…"

*Wheeze*

"I… I…"

It was when Cara's purple hair passed him that Floyd knew he lost. And to make his loss worse, his own feet, too tired to even stand, buckled. The blue-nette fell face first into the rocky ground, smashing his nose and eliciting a defeated whimper.

Cara didn't stop running until she touched the stone jut. Then, with the same hand, she pushed off it and jogged back to the fallen Floyd. The whole action took less than a second, as if she had fully expected him to collapse from the short run.

Soul watched on as Cara grabbed hold of Floyd's hands and tugged him the rest of the way to the finish. Once they were safely within cover again, Cara propped Floyd against the stone jut.

Despite himself, Floyd offered a lopsided smile. "See?— *pant* — Told you— *wheeze* — I could do it."

"Yep, you sure showed us." Cara replied with a sarcastic bite. "Get some rest, winner."

"No… really…" He made to stand. "I'm… I was just… I can keep going…"

There was a growl before Soul stepped forward, shoving Floyd back down so that he was laying against the stone jut again. "If you can keep going, then stand up."

Floyd took a rattling breath as he tried to stand again.

But Soul demolished his efforts with another straight-forward shove. One that Floyd didn't even bother to defend against.

Floyd tried to stand a third time, only for Soul to shove him back on his ass. The back of Floyd's head slammed painfully into stone. His arms flailed weakly as he tried to gather the momentum to make another attempt.

Soul was standing nearby, arm outstretched to shut the blue-nette down. "You're exhausted, asshole. Stay down and sleep already."

"I… I can't…" Floyd weakly muttered. His eyes darted to Cara, trying to relay a private message.

Cara, it seemed, understood. "Soul, give me a moment to talk to Floyd privately."

"What?" Soul growled. "What for?"

"That's between Floyd and I." Cara stated. And it was clear that she wasn't going to say anything more about it.

Soul rolled his eyes. "Fine. But if he doesn't go to sleep, give me a call and I'll be sure to knock him out." He cracked his knuckles intently before stepping away, giving Floyd and Cara enough space to talk privately.

"So…" Cara began, clapping her hands together. "You realize you need sleep, right? I don't have to point that out to you anymore?"

Floyd grimaced. "No… You've made that perfectly clear. You and Soul both." He rubbed the back of his head, wincing slightly from the pain.

Cara knelt down beside the blue-nette. She took out a Potion of Healing and offered it to him. He sipped it sparingly, enjoying the healing effects.

"We need you well-rested, Floyd. We need you." Cara looked him in the eyes as she spoke this. "I get that your nightmares are making that hard, but you have to either soldier through them or fix what's causing them. And if that means telling Soul what you're going through—"

"No!" Floyd gripped Cara's arms tightly, causing her to wince. "No… he—he can't know. He can never find out!"

Cara raised an eyebrow, ignoring the pain Floyd's grip was causing. "Why not? He deserves the right to know. And this has to stop! Just look at yourself. You look like death warmed over."

Slowly, Floyd loosened his grip around her arms. "Yeah… I know… And I'm taking care of it."

Cara's gaze turned flat. "Really?" She gestured to his entire being. "This is you taking care of it?"

His eyes narrowed. "I'm doing everything I can… You think I like feeling exhausted all the time?"

"I'm beginning to wonder…" She muttered under her breath.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. Look," She held his hands in hers, calming him down. Like it or not, your body needs sleep to function. So that's what you're gonna get."

"But… But… Soul is usually asleep when I try to sleep." Floyd's eyes strayed to Soul. The axe-wielder had his back to them so they could have their private talk. "If I go to sleep before him… my nightmares… they'll make me scream and he'll wonder why and then… and then…"

And then Soul would forgive him. But it wouldn't be genuine. It would only be because if Soul knew his refusal to forgive was slowly eating away at him, he'd swallow his hate and forgive.

"…and then…"

But that wouldn't mean a damn to Floyd. He knew he screwed up. He knew he had to fix things. He had to do something so good, it would obliterate all his past failures and prove to Soul that he was strong.

"…and then…"

That he had changed.

Floyd looked down sadly. "Telling him won't fix it. It'll just make everything worse."

Cara's eyes softened. "Don't worry." She smiled down at the blue-nette, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. "If you start to scream, I'll wake you up before Soul notices. I'll be there the second those nightmares rear their ugly heads."

Floyd looked up, hope shining in his bloodshot eyes. "R-really? You'd do that?"

Cara nodded.

"Promise?"

She held up her hand. "I promise."

Floyd kept his gaze on her, thinking things over, before his head slumped down. A weary sigh escaping him like trapped air finally freed.

"…Okay. Maybe I can get a few winks of sleep…"

"Of course you can." Cara smiled gently, placing her own bed and helping Floyd into it. "But just so you actually get some sleep this time…" She turned around and quickly walked to Soul. The axe-wielder raised a brow as Cara whispered something into his ears, pointed towards Floyd, and then pantomimed something involving bonking herself on the head and her head lolling to the side, unconscious.

Soul smiled, understanding it perfectly and nodded to her before marching towards Floyd. While he cracked his knuckles menacingly, Floyd had pulled the covers up to his chin, his eyes wide with realization.

"Um… guys… I think some warm milk would do the trick… really." Soul walked up the bed, his fist raised. The blue-nette pulled the covers over his head as if that would protect him. "This is not how normal people go to sleep!"

*PUNCH*

Soul and Cara silently watched over the unconscious Floyd, making sure to stay in cover so as not to be discovered by the passing Griefers.

Moments passed before Cara was certain enough that Floyd wouldn't awaken any time soon.

"Soul," Cara began with a determined tone, "there's something you should know."

Soul raised an eyebrow questioningly, prompting Cara to continue.

Cara took a calming breath, remembering what Captain Wynn had told her. "As leader, it is my responsibility to protect the lives and well-being of my men. Even if it means being despised for it, I must act in a way that ensures that you all survive."

She had Soul's undivided attention with how serious she was taking her role as leader.

"Even though Floyd will hate me for telling you this… and I swore to him that I wouldn't…" She took another shaky breath, steeling herself. "Floyd has been having night-terrors these past few days."

Soul's eyes widened a fraction, the information apparently being news to him.

"Every attempt he's made at rest have been met with reoccurring nightmares involving fallen comrades and his own inability to protect them. I believe they stem from the day he was helpless to save his friend Silent_Game—"

"He was my friend too." Soul growled out of the blue. Perhaps he was trying to convince himself more than her.

"That being said," Cara continued, "His own guilty conscience is chipping away at his mental health and, in turn, leading to his current poor physical health." She walked over to the slumbering blue-nette and pointed to the dark bags under his eyes. "And he's only getting worse. You saw how sluggish he was running. How drained he was trying to stand. This can't keep going."

Soul furrowed his brow and glared at Cara. "And what do you expect me to do about this?" he questioned coldly.

Cara shot him an equally scathing glare. "I expect you to realize that whatever issues you two have can take a backseat to our mission. In Floyd's current condition, he'll never be able to hold his own in battle. And in Nitebane of all places, we need him at his best."

Soul scoffed, shaking his head. "Whatever he can't do, I'll be more than happy to pick up the slack."

"Don't you get it?" Cara hissed scathingly. "Floyd is like this because you can't forgive him!"

"So what!?" Soul shot back. "What do you want me to say? 'You did nothing for Silent and left me to die, but I guess I can forgive you because you're just so guilty about it.' Is that what you want from me? Is that what he wants from me?"

"No!" Cara argued back. "I already told you Floyd didn't want you to know! He was worried you would forgive him just to keep his guilt from eating him alive."

"Well then he underestimated how little a shit I give about his cowardly ass!" The way he said it was so forced and angry. He couldn't keep his tone cold. And that was all the confirmation Cara needed.

"You do give a shit." Cara challenged with a bit of a smirk. "You're just too angsty to admit it."

"You shut up about my angst!—I mean… I don't have angst! I'm angst-free!"

Cara shook her head. "It's not like I can force you to forgive him. You two need to work out your issues yourselves. But I really think you should."

Soul growled as he kicked at the ground.

"Soul?"

Soul looked away, throwing out another stubborn growl. Cara frowned disapprovingly.

"Sooooul?"

"Ngh—Fine! I'll think about it, alright?" He hastily conceded. "Just… has he really not been able to get sleep because of me?" There was a faint trace of concern in his voice that gave Cara hope.

She was about to answer when all of a sudden Floyd began to stir. He began to moan in his sleep. Mostly muttered words though on occasion he would mumble 'Silent' or 'Soul'.

They were raising in volume and his breathing was becoming erratic. His face twisted in whatever horror he was seeing. It became clear that the blue-nette was descending into one of his night-terrors again. Cara quickly shooed Soul away, the axe-wielder diving behind a pile of rocks, before she knelt beside the slumbering Floyd.

"Floyd, it's okay." Cara whispered soothingly. She gripped Floyd by his arms in an attempt to comfort his fevered dreams. "You're okay. Calm down. What you're seeing isn't real."

Slowly, Floyd's heavy breathing calmed down. His twisted, agonized face, became loose and tranquil. From Soul's position behind the rocks, he could just make out the blue-nette's features. He saw it all for the first time, and realized how serious his guilt laid.

Finally, Floyd returned to his calm slumber. He rolled over on his side, a subconscious act, as he threw out a mumbled sentence.

"Thanks… Cara… could trust you…"

Cara patted his blue hair, feeling perhaps a twinge of remorse over breaking one of her promises.

But, as Wynn had said, if it was for the good of the group, she would happily shoulder the guilt.

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 Bed, 1 Boat, 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

[EXP: 12]

AN: Honestly, the shit Floyd has to deal with.

So, yeah, I got a lot of reviews talking about Floyd's death. Which I found particularly funny because we haven't seen him for so long and suddenly everyone's all 'Nuuuuuu! He was my favorite character!' Well then you'll be happy to hear you get to read an arc dedicated to your 'favorite' character. I'm sure nothing BAD will happen to him.

This is the start of the Nitebane Arc, which, unfortunately, I had to write from a past tense perspective. In other words, this arc's timeline is happening before the Halstatt Arc. I originally planned to write this arc after Noman's story, but I didn't want to be off Cobb for that long and I also really wanted to write the Halstatt Arc sooner rather than later.

I know a bunch of you probably wanted to see Cobb this Chapter and how he reacts to... things. But Floyd's story is just as important to the plot. So please bear with it.

See you all next Wednesday.