Lionhearts ||Skephalo||

60

The first step through the portal feels like nostalgia in the worst way.

Tommy's hand tightens around Tubbo's as their feet make contact with netherrack for the first time in weeks. Tubbo draws in a breath of the smoky air, casting his gaze around the landscape. He notices the others wincing at the air, retreating into scarves and other similar ways to filter their air; it confuses him momentarily, before he realizes they've never, or barely, breathed Nether air before. The brimstone and ash-tinged air must feel as horrifically jarring to their lungs as the living air of the Overworld felt to him at first.

Tommy's hold on his hand is almost crushing, and Tubbo elbows him.

"We're here," he says quietly, and Tommy glances at him for a moment, bright blue eyes full of confusion. "Tommy. My hand." The blond realizes at that how harshly he's crushing Tubbo's hand and loosens his grip.

Skeppy raises himself the extra inch tiptoeing gives him and surveys the area; it's netherrack for the visible distance, the smoky air clouding the view after a certain distance. The portal behind them looks small and rickety in comparison to the Overworld entry, but the dim purple glow is a reassuring beacon. Dream is scrawling something down, handing it to Phil as he murmurs to the other mage; Tubbo assumes it's directions, or the location of the portal.

He strains his ears to pick up whatever is being said, making out a few words.

"...too far," Dream's saying, "The distance feels a little off, but it shouldn't interfere too much with the plans. Ready?"

Phil nods, and turns to the rest of the group.

"Alright everyone, group together," he calls, and Tubbo waves slightly to Tommy as he joins the group with Phil, the one going to the chapel. "There's a little bit of a miscalculation with the distance," his words cause an uneasy stirring in the mercenaries, "but we're fine. We'll take the cliffside route from here, it will bring us closer to the chapel, while the others take the land route to the fortress. Follow closely, and watch your step." Only partially reassured, the mercenaries fall into single file behind Phil, following him down the cliff towards the shore of the lava ocean below. Tubbo stays close to Fundy near the rear of the line, glancing at the shifter.

"You breathing alright?" He softly asks Fundy, who grimaces and whispers in reply.

"Not really. It's hot as hell here, but I'll make do." Tubbo sees the netherrack crumble beneath the other mages ahead of them, and stops, waiting to see if the ground is as unstable as it looks. After a moment of nothing but a few rocks falling, he tentatively makes his way across the unstable area, hugging the cliffside nervously. Fundy follows suit, not taking his eyes off the bubbling lava far below them.

"This really doesn't feel safe," he mumbles to Tubbo anxiously, and Tubbo shrugs slightly.

"It's not," he replies. "But nothing in the Nether is really that safe, is it? We just gotta get to solid ground quick, or a Ghast might think to take a potshot at us and blow up the 'ole cliffside." Fundy's expression morphs into one of fear now, his gaze swiftly sweeping up towards the sky above them- or the ceiling, as it would be.

The ground approaches slowly, and Tubbo exhales softly.

Suddenly, he feels like this journey might take...longer than anticipated.

* * *

Skeppy's hand hasn't left his sword since they entered the portal, and it stays firmly on the hilt as they move over the wide expanse of this...slightly squishy, sticky, red ground beneath them. He can see fires in the distance, burning on the ground without any other fuel.