Chapter Text
Wemmbu’s vision whirled as he stumbled, disoriented, onto the thick, green grass. He shook his head wearily, attempting to stifle the nausea threatening to spill over. Ender pearl cannons were not really his thing, especially after his last unfortunate adventure with one, thanks to a certain ParrotX2.
Speaking of Parrot, he distantly wondered if he’d be alright by himself at the Northern Council.
Wemmbu was abruptly shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of an ender pearl crashing a short distance away, followed by the elegant sound of wings fluttering to hold oneself upright. Wemmbu didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
Eggchan huffed dramatically behind him. “I don’t think I’m ever getting used to that.”
Wemmbu didn't respond. He craned his neck instead, staring up at the structure that loomed over them, casting a shadow over any block that dared creep too close.
“The Farlands.” Wemmbu identified easily.
“Is bro ‘boutta start monologueing?” Egg added, earning a harder-than-necessary smack to the back of his head. “I’m joking, yo chill!”
They began to approach the Farlands, wind-charging up the extensive height until they reached the top of the liminal expanse, where the wind noticeably began to still and the air began to thin. Wemmbu didn’t particularly dislike his time spent in the Farlands, considering his hundred or so orbital cannons he earned through the journey, but the lack of awareness he knew was prominent in such a place always sent a shiver down his spine. He and Egg would always joke about getting lost in the maze-like surroundings and ending up like an Echo, but honestly, he wouldn’t be so surprised if it ended up coming true.
He glanced to the side at Egg, who was examining what he could see of their surroundings, given his render distance (Wemmbu wasn’t quite sure whether it would be scarier to see barely any of the Farlands, like Egg, or to see the extensive liminalness stretched out before them).
“Egg, we’re lowkey on a time limit, so I’ll genuinely slime you out if you start wandering off.” Wemmbu flicked his hand, signalling for Egg to follow close behind.
A beat passed before Egg hurried to keep up, expression slightly wary. Wemmbu decided not to dwell on it.
He shielded his eyes as the sun began to set below the horizon. There was nothing, no blocks or cover anywhere in sight to shield him from the relentless sun, he noted with irritation.
Egg, always the innovative one, lifted a feathered wing over his eyes. It was unfortunate that the air in the Farlands was so thin that Egg couldn’t fly, and neither could Wemmbu using his elytra, which served as a pestering annoyance. This journey could’ve been much faster if this wasn’t the case.
The lower the sun dipped, the brighter it burned. Wemmbu found himself fully covering his eyes, agreeing that a temporary lack of vision was better than a permanent one.
Guiding himself through his footsteps alone, he listened for each familiar padded step as his foot connected with the ground below. One step, two steps, three steps—
He didn’t get to hear the fourth.
Air pierced through his ears and wavy, purple bangs slapped his face as he plummeted downwards into a familiar-looking civilisation reduced to rubble. He let out a shriek as he reached for his water bucket, noting its uncharacteristic absence at maybe the worst moment possible.
He free-fell. His arms scrambled for something — anything to shield his fall, but coming back empty handed.
As the ground approached rapidly, he stupidly wondered what would be the worst thing to think about before dying. Without much of a thought, he knew it would be Boosfer.
There was no way he’d die thinking of Boosfer.
Just as the thought had crossed his mind, he felt a thin but unmistakably firm string wrap around his waist, pulled taut. The glint of a flashy decorative bait attached to the end of the string recoiled with the momentum, dashing upwards and crashing into Wemmbu’s forehead, sending a strike of pain through his temple.
Wincing, he distantly acknowledged how extremely close he was to crashing through a jagged roof only metres away.
“Dude I’m actually the Goat what the heck.” Wemmbu didn’t think he could ever be this relieved to hear Egg’s voice behind him, filled with pride.
He turned slowly, careful not to snap the string literally binding him to life. His eyes caught first on Egg, standing up on the ledge before the pit. His hair was slightly disheveled, evidence of his own scrambling panic despite his attempt to hide it. His one exposed eye reflected the sunset hues adorning the sky. Wemmbu had always been intrigued by how Egg’s eye only ever reflected the strongest light source, never a natural colour of its own.
Next, his eyes caught on the fishing rod perched in a firm grip between Egg’s hands.
Wemmbu had been about to die, inches away from certain death, and Egg had just saved him with a fishing rod.
He reminded himself, once again, to retire and build a fishing house with Egg millions of blocks out once they defeated the LAW.
He shook his head, snapping out of his stupor.
“Egg, oh my god, pull me up.” Wemmbu whined, hissing slightly under his breath at the way the string dug into his abdomen.
Egg tutted, “patience is virtue, my friend.”
“Genuinely what are you talking about-“ he was cut off by a sharp tug at the string around his waist. Egg was reeling him in.
Somehow, after a lot of cursing and one near-disaster involving the ledge, Wemmbu found himself dumped unceremoniously onto the ground beside Egg, fishing rod string slack around his waist.
“Dude you’re always making fun of my render distance and this is what I catch you doing.” Egg laughed at him as he struggled to untangle himself from the fishing rod. “Also not even a single ‘thank you,’ this is absurd.”
Finally free from the grasps of the almighty fishing rod, Wemmbu rolled his eyes, grinning. “Bro is straight up the fisherman.”
With Egg’s laughter in the background, Wemmbu spared himself a moment to think. He once again reached towards his hot bar, instinctively attempting to pull out his water bucket. His hand stayed empty. He was sure it had been there just moments before; on the 8th slot. He knew it had been there, in fact, he distinctly remembered equipping it moments before he used the ender pearl cannon. Was he imagining things? Had he thrown it away and just didn’t remember?
He felt a headache beginning to form and decided he’d think more about it later. He dragged Egg along with him as he circled around the enormous pit housing an old civilisation. It had been called the ‘Farlands Civilisation’ if he remembered correctly from what Parrot told him. He didn’t know anything about said civilisation, only how he fought Sharpness here last time he visited the Farlands.
“We should probably keep going. Bro if we take too long and Letty ends up as king I’m actually quitting.” Wemmbu complained, spinning on his heels as his long hair whipped the air.
As he began to walk away from the Farlands Civ, Eggchan stared into the pit a beat too long. Something stilled the air before his eye, a flooding sense of foreboding washed over him. His instincts had never been wrong before.
Something was off this time around. The air felt thinner than it should, the days felt shorter and the nights felt longer. It was barely noticeable, but Egg noticed it. He noticed it in the way the grass stood slightly disheveled, in how the rocks felt as if they were intentionally thrown haphazardly, in how the wind howled as if mocking them.
Something was wrong, and he’d be damned if he’d let it pass unnoticed.