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“Minute! Give me a hand, Minute!”
The End mainland was quiet enough that MinuteTech didn’t need to stand guard at the entrance to hear everything happening outside.
Most players couldn’t resist shouting when they got trapped somewhere. This particular voice was especially loud.
Just in case, the entrance was still protected by Elder Guardians. Through a gap in the obsidian barrier, Minute caught sight of a familiar purple figure.
Wemmbu looked like hell.
Dust covered him from head to toe, and half of his chestplate was gone.
Minute frowned. That wasn’t a good sign.
He broke away a few blocks to open the path. Only then did he notice the second person leaning heavily against Wemmbu’s side.
The angel.
The funny one.
Eggchan was a little taller than Wemmbu. It looked like Wemmbu was using both arms and even his tail just to keep him upright.
“What happened to you two?!”
Eggchan’s armor was in no better shape. His wings were filthy, matted with sticky blood.
One of them was missing nearly half its span.
Minute immediately grabbed Egg’s other arm, and together they helped him back toward the base.
Meanwhile, Wemmbu kept trying to explain.
“Who knows, bro? These weird guys just showed up out of nowhere…” He struggled to remember details. “They wouldn’t stop chasing us. Seriously, if we hadn’t stumbled across that End portal when we did, we’d probably be dead. Minute, look at him. I looked away for one second…”
His voice shook.
Then he started repeating himself.
The same details.
The same excuses.
The same panic.
“It’s not your fault, Wemmbu. Breathe.”
Eggchan’s condition felt wrong.
Not merely injured. Minute recognized the symptoms.
A tipped arrow. Weakness, poison, or something similar.
Wemmbu probably wasn’t carrying milk. Even if he had been, there was a good chance he hadn’t had time to use it.
Minute pulled a bucket of milk from his inventory and brought it over.
Egg barely reacted. His eyes were unfocused. When Minute’s hand entered his field of vision, he only let out a weak grunt.
Wemmbu pushed himself back to his feet and staggered over.
“Wake up, bro. Come on. If you don’t drink this milk, you’re gonna die.”
“Mm…”
How much of that actually got through was anyone’s guess.
Egg took the cup. Minute kept one hand underneath it in case the shaking became too much. He managed a few swallows. Then immediately spat most of it back out.
Damn it.
Exactly what Minute had been afraid of. The arrow had struck Egg in the chest. The damage to his lungs made breathing difficult. Swallowing was even harder, which meant he couldn’t properly remove the status effect.
“Uh… sorry… bro…”
His eyes never focused on Minute. They wandered aimlessly around the room. At this rate, he’d lose consciousness within minutes.
Wemmbu clicked his tongue.
“Minute. Give me the cup.”
“But—how are you planning to—”
Wemmbu didn’t answer. Instead, he muttered a quiet apology. Then he grabbed Egg by the throat and forced the milk down.
Egg—his best friend—tried to fight back. But it didn’t matter, Wemmbu was stronger. The resistance accomplished nothing.
Painful noises escaped Egg’s throat.
Minute deliberately looked away. He kept telling himself not to interfere.
Eventually Egg managed to shove Wemmbu off with the last of his strength. He collapsed forward onto the floor, wheezing and coughing like a broken bellows.
The sound was awful.
Wemmbu stood up.
Almost fell over.
Caught himself at the last second.
“Okay… okay. He drank it, right?”
“You’re asking me?”
“I can’t tell. Everything’s spinning. I can’t see the particles anymore.”
“…”
Before answering, Minute smashed a splash healing potion at their feet.
Fortunately, Wemmbu’s dizziness wasn’t entirely physical. Too many things had happened in too little time. His brain was simply overloaded.
“Egg. Can you move?”
“Probably not, bro. You’re gonna have to help.”
“You can rest in the back room. There’s a mattress there…”
Minute paused.
“Oh. Right. You probably can’t lie down.”
“Oh no. That’s terrible.”
Despite barely being able to stay conscious, Egg somehow still sounded dramatic.
As usual.
He noticed Minute staring at his damaged wing.
“Don’t worry, bro. It’ll grow back.”
“You’re lying,” said Wemmbu.
“I’m not.”
Egg sounded offended.
“It’ll be back tomorrow.”
“What kind of messed-up biology is that?!”
Egg ignored Wemmbu's shouting entirely. Instead, he looked toward Minute.
“Minute. I can’t sleep sitting up.”
“Then you’ll have to try harder.”
There wasn’t exactly a way to carve a wing-shaped hole into the mattress.
“Are you seven years old or something?”
“I’m serious! Oh, bro just don’t understand me.”
Wemmbu burst out laughing. As if the disaster from earlier had never happened.
“Wemmbu. You should rest too. I’ll watch the portal.”Said Minute.
“Hey! Stop treating me like I’m injured too!”
“You’re running on stubbornness. Go rest.”
Wemmbu opened his mouth. Minute shut him down immediately.
“I’ll allow you to sleep in Egg’s room.”
“What?”
“You can take the floor. Or the carpet.”
Any argument involving recovery or proper medical care would have gone in one ear and out the other.
This, however, got results. Wemmbu instantly wilted.
“Uh…”
He scratched the back of his head.
“Can I at least pick a soft blanket?”
——
Heavy wings like a bird’s, if powerful enough, could carry someone beyond the world’s height limit and give them command of the entire sky. Or, if they could produce enough burst speed, they could spare their owner the trouble of carrying Elytra and fireworks.
Eggchan was neither. He flew slowly. His wingbeats were loud. Loud enough that any alert enemy could hear him coming. Wemmbu had lost count of how many times he’d told him to watch those damn wings.
Now half of one was missing. And somehow, that felt even stranger.
“Don’t look so worried, bro. Look.”
Egg pointed at his back.
To his credit, he hadn’t been lying.
His wings really could regenerate.
Fresh tissue had already begun growing from the ruined stump. Beneath a thin layer of translucent pink skin, bones were faintly visible. A few newborn feathers poked through.
A tiny new wing.
It trembled slightly with every breath he took.
Wemmbu almost reached out and touched it.
“Does it hurt?”
“Maybe a little. But I’m a seasoned warrior. A little growing pain is nothing.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
In reality, he regretted asking less than two hours later.
Egg never left the room.
When Wemmbu returned with breakfast, he found him curled up on the mattress. His remaining wing was folded into an awkward shape.
“Bro. You okay?”
“Not really.”
Egg groaned.
“Do you think I could just buy a replacement wing and stick it on? This hurts.”
“I dunno.”
Wemmbu sat down beside him.
“Maybe you could steal Parrot’s.”
“No. That one’s ugly.”
“Then maybe we ask Minute to respawn the Ender Dragon and harvest one from that thing.”
Egg paused.
“Wouldn’t that be kind of evil?”
“Oh.”
Wemmbu blinked.
“Yeah, maybe.”
A beat later:
“Man, good thing Minute didn’t hear that.”
Unfortunately, the base had terrible soundproofing. Minute heard every word.
“Do you need a golden apple or a healing potion or something?” Wemmbu asked. “You look awful.”
“Probably not.”
Egg shifted slightly and immediately regretted it.
“I don’t think this counts as an injury, bro. It’s just growing pains.”
A pause.
“They’re really, really painful, though.”
His voice remained as theatrical as ever.
If someone listened only to his words, they’d think he was joking around like usual. But his body told a different story. He was trembling constantly. The new wing grew at a frightening speed, pulling at muscle, bone, and skin alike.
Egg hunched forward, refusing to let his blood-soaked back touch the mattress. The blood eventually found its own path. It ran around his sides. Dripped down his chest. Hit the floor one drop at a time.
Wemmbu immediately started yelling for Minute. As though being guardian of the End somehow made him omnipotent.
Unfortunately, Minute agreed with Egg.
This wasn’t an injury. It was simply a particularly horrifying example of “growing pains.”
If forced to choose, Minute preferred short-term suffering to long-term suffering. The fact that Egg’s wing could fully recover within a single day was already miraculous. Whatever price came attached to that miracle seemed almost reasonable.
Unfortunately, the concept of equivalent exchange had never successfully entered Wemmbu’s head.
A good deal was any deal that benefited someone he cared about.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
At first he kept joking.
Mocking Egg’s miserable appearance.
Trying to laugh it off.
Eventually the jokes stopped working.
Concern became anxiety.
Anxiety became restlessness.
Minute left him alone for as long as possible. Only when Wemmbu began pacing circles around the portal did he finally intervene.
“Wemmbu. Where are you going?”
“I dunno.”
Wemmbu refused to meet his eyes.
“It’s too quiet here.”
Silence.
“Well, you know, I just want to go somewhere.”
"Where？"
Minute waited.
Eventually Wemmbu continued.
“Merchant City sells all kinds of stuff, right? Maybe they’ve got… I dunno. Painkillers or something.”
Another pause.
“Egg keeps groaning in there.”
Minute sighed inwardly.
If there really were a way to ease his friend’s suffering, Wemmbu would probably do almost anything to get it.
It was a pure, uncomplicated desire—the sort of thing that made people easy to manipulate. It would only force Wemmbu to confront something he clearly didn’t want to admit. And Minute had no intention of doing that.
“Wemmbu.”
“What?”
“I know a recipe.”
That got his attention.
“A recipe?”
“If certain potions are mixed in the correct proportions, they can dull sensory perception.”
Minute folded his arms.
“It might be what you’re looking for.”
“Seriously?!”
“Seriously.”
Wemmbu lit up instantly.
“Though I’ve never tested it.”
“That’s fine.”
“So that's why I’ll need your help.”
“Oh.”
Then a grin spread across Wemmbu’s face.
“Oh, sure. Of course.”
His voice sounded lighter already.
“So where are we going? When do we start, Minute?”
Minute turned toward storage.
“Just wait here.”
A little later, he returned carrying ingredients and a handwritten recipe.
He found Wemmbu sitting outside Egg’s room. Sneaking glances through the doorway every few seconds. Minute followed his gaze.
The new wing had grown larger.
Still bloody.
Still pathetic-looking compared to the healthy one.
The feathers clearly wouldn’t recover overnight.
Minute handed everything over. The paper. The ingredients. Wemmbu blinked.
“I thought I was just helping.”
“No.”
Minute shook his head.
“You’re making it.”
“What?”
“This is something you want to do, isn’t it?”
“…”
Wemmbu muttered something under his breath.
Then quietly began measuring ingredients.
“Fine.”
A pause.
“Guess it’s my problem anyway.”
He adjusted one of the measuring cups.
“I just don’t get it. Everytime I leave him alone for five minutes, then somehow ten players are chasing him.”
“Bro.”
Egg’s voice drifted out from the other room.
“Maybe I simply have aura.”
“Oh, come on.”
Despite himself, Wemmbu laughed.
“Actually… yeah. You kind of do.”
“I knew it.”
“I’ve never seen anyone with wings that huge.”
“Exactly.”
Egg sounded pleased.
“They probably saw me spreading them and got intimidated.”
“Or you smacked someone.”
“Oh.”
A thoughtful pause.
“That’s possible.”
“You serious?”
“Maybe.”
By the time they returned to the room, Egg was still sitting on the mattress. Exhausted. But noticeably better than before. At least he wasn’t shaking anymore.
Minute explained the potion’s ingredients and theoretical effects.
“That sounds reassuring.” Said Egg.
“It should be.”
Minute reached into his inventory.
“Just in case, take this too.”
Egg looked down.
Then immediately screamed.
“You gave me a Totem?!”
“I’ve never tested this potion.”
“Bro!”
Egg looked horrified.
“Am I gambling my life on a painkiller?!”
His healthy wing flapped violently. Several feathers drifted to the floor.
“Don’t be so scared, bro.”
Wemmbu folded his arms.
“I’ll drink it too.”
“Then we’ll both die, bro.”
“Or you can keep suffering.”
Then, much more quietly:
“You got hurt protecting me.”
His gaze dropped.
“So whatever happens… I should accept it.”
Oh.
Minute finally understood.
That was the source.
Wemmbu hated being protected. Because being protected meant weakness, meant someone else had needed to save him. He asked Minute for help all the time, but never saw Minute as a protector, an ally, a partner, someone who could ask him for help in return. That was different.
Egg stared.
“Bro. I don’t remember protecting you.”
Silence.
“…What?”
“I thought I was just unlucky. Did that actually happen?”
The confusion on his face was completely genuine.
Wemmbu opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Tried once more.
Failed.
Then he burst out laughing. Because what else was there to do?
“Bro.”
He doubled over.
“I’m absolutely certain it happened within your render distance.”
“Oh.”
Egg nodded thoughtfully.
“That explains it.”
“It does?”
“Sure.”
He shrugged.
“There are too many important things in the world for me to pay attention to everything.”
Wemmbu laughed even harder. Nearly folded in half. For the first time since arriving in the End, he looked completely relaxed.
Minute found himself breathing easier too.
Was Egg doing this on purpose?
Pretending not to remember so Wemmbu would stop blaming himself?
Minute glanced down. Egg still looked genuinely puzzled.
“Bro.”
Egg pointed at Wemmbu.
“Is this how he treats the person who saved his life? If he’s right, anyway.”
“I don’t know.”
Maybe there was no deeper plan. Maybe Egg really hadn’t thought about it at all. Perhaps that was exactly why they were best friends.
Minute would never say something so sentimental out loud. Judging other people’s relationships was foolish.
Still.
Looking at the two of them now—
he couldn’t imagine anything better.