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The void was unforgiving.
Nufuli wasn’t sure what he expected.
The darkness surrounded him. It clung to his limbs and danced along his hands. The only light in the expanding darkness was from the apples Nufuli ate. They kept him warm, alive. Sane, perhaps.
The darkness danced and danced, but it couldn’t claim him. It tried so very hard, but it was just out of reach. That wasn’t what bothered Nufuli. It wasn’t the darkness or the dry air. Not the rapidly disappearing form of the world above him. Not the idea that Loonac was up there, somewhere, fighting a monster without him.
That bothered him. But it didn’t reach him. He only had one thought on his mind.
It was so cold.
Nufuli had never felt cold before.
He had felt hot, but never cold. He was built for the cold. The horns on his head were always frozen over with ice. No matter how low the temperature dropped, he always felt at peace in the snow.
Dimoffy had once watched him swim in a frozen lake with no complaints. He had called him crazy. Nufuli had laughed. Proclaimed that he would never feel cold. That nothing could ever make him freeze.
He hadn’t faced the void before. They had broken the bedrock and flown through the space, but they’d never faced the void. They had always had their wings to save them. Keep them close to the sanctuary that is Earth.
It felt as if nothing reached him here. Not light, not time.
All he knew was darkness.
He had to hold on. Loonac wouldn’t be long. He could hear the snowman through the device attached securely to his wrist. If he had the strength to focus, he might have also heard the voice of Recall.
The God was begging. On his knees in front of mere mortals. Nufuli would have laughed if he had any humor left.
He felt the moment the button was pressed. Light flashed in the looming darkness, and for a moment the void turned white.
The God fell. His robes billowed as he scrambled for stable ground. Air. Light. Something.
Nufuli locked eyes with him. A fallen God. Reaching out in desperation towards the man whose life he had destroyed.
Purple met Gray. Recall had no power in this foreign domain. No longer could he abuse and torment. No, the roles had reversed. Now, Nufuli stood at the top. And Recall fell below.
Distantly, he felt the moment the God was taken by the void. Something rang through in him. Light shone beneath the service. Red burned to gold. The apples he ate hummed along with something deeper, something he couldn’t recognize.
For a moment, heat rang through.
The void laughed.
The God didn’t die. The void didn’t work like that. It wasn’t something you could escape through mortal punishment.
The void is eternal. When something falls in its grasp, it holds on and doesn’t let go.
Once, a man had believed there was an escape. With the power of space, he could defeat the all-powerful force and reclaim his one and only friend.
It was a foolish thought. One that Nufuli had recognized.
Loonac had wanted to be the one to fall. Nufuli couldn’t lose another. So he insisted.
He smiled as the last of the light faded from his hands. The apples, with all their desperate warmth, were gone. So finite in a never-ending world such as this.
He felt his heart beat in his chest. It picked up and got louder, singing along with the pleading voice coming from his wrist.
“I’m sorry, Loonac.”
His heart fell silent. The voice faded. All that was left was darkness. It danced and danced, laughing as it finally claimed another.
Oh, it was so cold.
It couldn’t be true.
It had been going so well. The tyrant was dead, the world saved. All Loonac had left to do was bring back his friend from the shadow prison he had trapped himself in.
Ender pearls were capsules of space itself. No matter where one was, they always brought them back. Through miles and miles of land, through the passage of dimensions, they always brought back their host.
There was one place even space could not reach. Loonac really was a fool.
Nufuli had known. He had to have. Loonac would have been down there, but his friend traded their places. Traded his life so Loonac could live.
“No! You can’t be gone, Nufuli!” He cried into the communicator. The static was getting louder by the second, but he could still hear the elf’s heartbeat strikingly clear. There was still hope. There had to be.
“I’m sorry, Loonac.”
The beat went silent. The static overwhelmed.
“No…”
His friends. His home. Dimoffy. Now Nufuli.
Everyone he’d ever known. Gone.
He collapsed on his knees. He caught a glimpse of the reflection of light and saw that Nufuli had left him one last gift. His scuba mask. The one that he had always worn, despite Loonac’s questioning. He had always laughed it off. Said it was important to him.
Loonac lunged, grabbing it as if it would fade away at any moment. Maybe it would.
And then Loonac laughed. Broken and cold.
(No, not cold. Nufuli was cold. Now he was gone.)
“Why must life be so cruel?” He looked up through the tears. The deepslate looked back, unforgiving.
It was better than the darkness that lay below, at least.
“It should have been me. Why wasn’t it me?’ It was a foolish question; he already knew the answer to it. Nufuli would never allow it. Even in death, he always won in the end.
“Please. Please. Don’t leave me here. Not again.”
The static rang louder. So did Loonac’s tears.
For one frightening moment, a part of his mind drifted to the sword in his holster. He could join them in the afterlife. Escape the torment of mortality.
His fingers trailed across the handle of the blade. It would be easy. A cut along the neck. Instant, painless.
He considered it. He didn’t belong here. He should never have survived the wrath of a God. He was only here because of pure dumb luck.
He should do it. Right the wrong. Finish what had been started.
The world stilled for a moment. His grip tightened, and he slid the sword out of its holster. It was the necessary action.
The mask caught his eye once again. Nufuli.
He left his most prized possession behind. For Loonac.
Gods, he was so stupid. He couldn’t disregard Nufuli’s sacrifice for his own selfish desires. He couldn’t disgrace his friend's memory by throwing away his final heroic act.
He had to live on. If not for himself, then for Nufuli. Dimoffy. All the people who died to defeat the God.
He dropped his sword. The clang echoed through the narrow space.
Loonac carefully put on the mask, resting it on his hat just like Nufuli always had. He stood, turning to the ender chest in the corner of the room. He searched through the darkness (Not darkness. Not the void. It isn’t the same) until he pulled out a single stick hidden in the depths.
It glowed, runes engraved along the base. Loonac stared at it, entranced. No wonder Dimoffy had treasured it so much. He slipped it into his belt.
He slipped his sword back in its place and took a deep breath. His legs shook from the effort, but he managed to stand and back away from the failed stasis. He kept his eyes carefully diverted from the gaping hole through the bedrock.
“I’ll find a way. I’ll bring you home. I won’t forget you.”
Nufuli was gone, but the world kept spinning. Loonac learned to move on.
He built a base high in the sky. It reminded him of Dimoffy. The angel always loved to fly, despite their home being deep below the earth. Maybe one day he’d be there to enjoy it too.
He wasn’t sure what to do, once Nufuli was gone. Before, he had helped the elf on his missions. Now, though? All he did was wander aimlessly. He couldn’t let himself befriend anyone else. They all ended up dead in the end.
So he flew. He painted his elytra white and gold, like Dimoffy’s wings. His feather had burned on the nether roof. This was the closest he could get to the truth.
He wasn’t looking for anything in particular when he flew. But one day he stumbled across a structure that made his blood run cold.
It looked like an altar, with a beacon in the center shooting a beam of light into the sky. It was made of deepslate, a dark contrast to the vibrant terrain surrounding it.
There were command blocks. Four of them, placed in a circle around the center of the structure.
Oh, not again.
(He saw the cave. Two command blocks, one on each side. A God standing over his friend. A sword through his chest. Oh, not again.)
Thunder roared as a lightning bolt struck the altar right in its center. Loonac scrambled back, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blinding light. When it faded, he saw a golden glow appearing from the altar. He approached, discerning that it looked to be an eye, similar to the eyes of ended that led way to new dimensions.
He hesitated, but picked it up. It didn’t hurt; it felt warm in his hand. But it didn’t melt his snow.
He stared at it for a moment, before something came over him. Instinct, perhaps, but he threw the eye into the air. It hovered, glowing brighter and brighter until it consumed the landscape.
When Loonac could see again, he wasn’t alone.
A demon. Crawled from the depths below? Yet he had come in a flash of light.
4 eyes turned on him in unison. Glowing crimson, like blood itself.
His own eyes focused on the left side of the stranger’s face. The skin had melted away, revealing flesh and blood. A singular eye remained, with sclera dark as night.
As void.
His breathing picked up. He couldn’t look away. He needed to look away.
The stranger turned his head. Loonac let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Gods, he was so hopeless.
What would Nufuli do?
He didn’t know anymore.
The stranger made the choice for him. They spoke. Revealed his name was Galaxy, and that he had previously been removed from the world. Lost his third and final life.
Hope. Senseless, impetuous hope.
He stumbled through an introduction. They both inspected the altar that had somehow defied the impossible.
The eye had brought back one from beyond. But how far could it reach?
Into the void itself?
He dared to allow himself to believe. He gave Galaxy gear and took to the skies once again.
He wasn’t wandering aimlessly anymore.
The gold glowed in the sun. Galaxy asked why he had dyed his elytra. He just smiled.
Hope.
What a fragile thing.
But it leads starving men through endless deserts. It aids helpless men in the hunt for water. It gives them the strength to keep on.
To fight once more.
They found another altar. It wasn’t Nufuli. His sword swings came a little heavier than usual. But even if the players went home with more severe injuries than necessary, who were they to complain?
They had found one altar in each dimension up until that point. But that only left the end.
With the void who had taken him.
Galaxy asked if he was okay. He lied and said he was. It was for Nufuli. He couldn’t let his fear get in the way.
They threw the eye into the void.
Loonac couldn’t let it take something else from him.
The fall was natural. As if it was meant to be.
But when the void tried to make him fade away, his wings carried him up.
Dimoffy, even in death.
He didn’t throw the eye immediately.
He wanted to try to control it. Get who he wanted.
He put the eye on the ground and threw a wind charge at it.
Instead of exploding into a burst of wind, the eye consumed it.
Took the item in.
Took the item in.
With shaking hands, he pulled the goggles away from his head.
If this didn’t work, he’d lose the last remaining piece of him.
But if it did, he’d regain something better.
He allowed the goggles to fall. They were consumed by the golden light.
He picked it up once again. He looked maniac. That didn’t matter.
The eye ascended into the air. The glow got brighter. Loonac let out a laugh of glee.
For a moment, light was replaced with darkness. Gold turned to black as shadows crept up from the underworld.
This hadn’t happened before. Galaxy backed away. Loonac just stepped closer.
He knew what it meant. The laugh that rang out was his own, happy and whole for the first time in a millennia.
The void had taken his friend.
But he had taken him back.