Chapter Text
Wemmbu decided he’d already had enough of the Farlands once they finally set foot in the Farland’s warped impression of the “Prince Zam Empire”. It was ridiculous how, after everything it took to destroy the real place, it got to live on freely, reflected in the Farlands, as if his impact hadn’t meant a thing at all. It made him feel weak; like the small insect Zam insisted he was all that time ago.
He realised in an instant; he wanted it gone all over again.
Glancing over at Egg, Wemmbu noticed him wearily searching their surroundings, eye locking on each and every follicle of grass he deemed worthy of his full attention. Egg had barely talked on the way here. Wemmbu assumed he was just tired from walking, but knew Egg would usually be more vocal about his complaints.
“Egg, you good?” Wemmbu tilted his head, a questioning, but mostly blank, expression adorning his face.
As if caught in an act, Egg jumped, letting out a pretty high-pitched scream almost rivalling that of Manepear.
Silence followed for a few beats before Wemmbu burst out into a fit of laughter, Egg following along.
“What the hell was that?” Wemmbu managed to gasp out between breaths, eventually coming down from the high.
“I might have to get that checked out, yo, that cannot be normal.” Egg giggled, unknowingly putting off Wemmbu from questioning him about his off-put attitude during their lengthy walk.
Wemmbu shook his head, deadpan. “Bro’s just an interesting specimen.” He looked over the old civilization once more, a familiar feeling, once buried away, clawing its way back up. He hadn’t felt this way for over a year. It was the anger that fueled him enough to destroy the Empire in the first place. He thought the anger had gone the moment he and Zam had made up, but he felt it tugging to the surface.
Without breaking eye contact with Zam’s fancy, grand castle, Wemmbu spoke, voice as steady as he could muster. “Egg, do you still have that TNT shulker?”
Beneath, among the pretty buildings and lavish gardens, Wemmbu felt a deep-seated hatred. It angered him to see the houses in tip-top shape. All that work he had done, reversed to oblivion. The only thing keeping him from finding the forge and using all the orbital cannons on this very empire was Egg’s clear enjoyment in the ‘placing TNT’ activity.
“Why are your eyes genuinely lighting up with glee while committing genuine terrorism?” Wemmbu snorted, amused by Egg’s shifting morality. It was funny to think about how when he actually blew up the empire, Egg was a complete pacifist.
“Bro I can’t swing a sword to save my life, this is the only source of violence I can willingly take part in without ensuring my own death.” Egg defended himself, climbing up a steep rooftop to place a block of TNT atop it like a Christmas tree star.
They ornamented the castle grounds with TNT acting like bright red, extremely dangerous fairy lights.
In the end, he couldn’t avoid the castle forever.
Taking a deep breath, Wemmbu stepped into the large structure, turning left to view an all-too-familiar scene. Zam, standing tall, chin up with pride, staring down at his 4 most loyal guards. His gold-trimmed armour adorned his ethereal presence as if he were some sort of God, gleaming even in the dim light.
Wemmbu felt conflict as a stifling presence in his gut.
He couldn’t tell if he admired or despised the illustration before him.
The Echoes of Zam and his guards felt wrong; an anomaly so distinct from all he’d seen on this server.
Ultimately, he decided not to dwell on it.
He and Egg soon began to fill the castle with TNT, strictly avoiding the area where Zam stood tall. He wanted Zam to feel the despair he felt when Zam blew his empire to the ground, even if this was just an Echo.
Satisfied at the extent of their work, Wemmbu nodded his head, clearly content. Every wall was tarnished with TNT.
He wanted to wipe that proud smirk from Zam’s face — wanted to crush that sturdy, blue-trimmed armour beneath his feet, just like Zam had done to him. He flicked open his flint and steel, posture stiff in anticipation, before he was cut off.
“Hold on, Wemmbu,” Egg approached sharply, finger raised, pointing at Zam’s Echo. “Wasn’t his armour gold-trimmed?”
Wemmbu stared at Egg for a beat too long, eyebrow twitching awkwardly. He snorted, amused by the dead-serious look on Egg’s face. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, bro.”
Egg fell eerily quiet, face blank aside from the slightest frown. Wemmbu felt uncomfortably scrutinised under his intense gaze, fingers twitching in discomfort.
“Are you-?” Wemmbu started, then stopped himself. “Whatever. Anyways, it would probably be better to shoot the TNT with a flame bow from a safe distance or we might genuinely lose our only life to our own TNT.”
He signalled for Egg to follow him, before walking out of the throne room, paying no mind to the lack of footsteps following behind him.
Egg watched him leave, the air thick and unmoving. He glanced back towards Zam, still positioned with perfect posture, chest puffed out with pride. The blue trims stuck out as if mocking him. And if Zam’s head truly did tilt towards him ever so slightly, he chose, for the sake of his mental well-being, to believe he had gone crazy.
Wemmbu took the bow from Egg’s outstretched hands, setting it at a perfect angle toward the closest TNT block, before slinging out an arrow.
“This gotta be abuse. I’m not even allowed to shoot from my own bow…” Egg whined, watching Wemmbu use his favourite bow.
Wemmbu glanced at him through the corner of his eye, a judging look prevalent. “Egg, I swear, I actually believe you’d hold the bow the wrong way and somehow shoot yourself instead.” He snorted, resuming his aiming.
Egg gasped in offence, affronted. “Dude, you cannot be saying that after all those fights. Remember when I kept shooting Ferre with those slow-falling arrows? I deserve more appreciation.”
Wemmbu ignored him, choosing instead to finally release his shot.
The arrow pierced through the air, whirling forwards as it burst into a fit of flames before embedding itself into the TNT.
A beat passed—
Suddenly, the TNT block erupted into flames, bursting into the air in a fit of dancing colours. The explosion influenced the other blocks of TNT like an infectious disease, performing the same sickeningly beautiful display of ash and sparkling flames.
The deafening explosions were like music to Wemmbu’s ears, a sound he was so familiar with, it felt almost comforting. The stench of smoke and debris were a harsh combination to fully enjoy, but it smelt almost like an imperfect home to him; a comfortable life not exempt from flaws.
He lowered the bow, brushing soot from his face. Tranquility settled over him — a calm too rare to be replicated.
Egg’s stomach dropped hard, a cold spike of urgency locking his limbs in place. Something inside him pulled tight, a slow, sickening stretch he felt in his teeth, every instinct in his body screaming not to look down at the throne room.
He turned sharply towards Wemmbu, whose serene expression only deepened Egg’s unease. He felt sick.
He stepped closer, tugging at Wemmbu’s sleeve with careful urgency. Wemmbu tilted his head, eyebrows raised expectantly.
When Egg didn’t respond for a moment too long, Wemmbu studied him. He appeared deeply unsettled in a way that suggested he attempted to hide it and yet failed pathetically.
“We should go, it’s getting dark.” Egg mumbled under his breath, clearly disturbed.
Wemmbu eyed him wearily, confusion evident in the way he inspected Egg. He’d seen Egg afraid before. He was afraid when Wemmbu was held at the mercy of Zam, inches from death, when he gave Wemmbu his last pearl to escape the prison, and when he threw himself in front of Wemmbu, taking the arrow and being banished to The End for months with no escape. And yet, without fail, Egg had joked his way out of fear, priding himself on his ‘noble sacrifices’.
He had never seen Egg look so small.
He shrunk into himself, uncomfortably so. He looked as if he were in immense physical pain despite harbouring no injuries. Wemmbu would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t concerned.
Eventually he realised he’d been silently staring for far too long.
Not wanting to upset his friend any further, Wemmbu decided not to push it and to just ask about it later.
As the sun dipped below the horizon once more, Wemmbu found himself forgetting that anything was wrong in the first place.