Withering World 1 [MCSM Fanfiction]

TRANSMISSION: Chapter 23

Jesse

"So, a riddle they gave you?" I ask, Petra shuffling uncomfortably in her seat.

"I just don't get it. I've been everywhere, seen jungles, mesas, deserts, lush caves and even a mushroom field for Notch's sake, but I've never come across a blue mushroom before."

My infected arm trembles as I resist the urge to scratch myself. "And how many do they need?"

"As many as I can grab."

Oh, Petra. Really? Do you have to keep trying for me?

Parched, my dry throat gives way to a raspy cough. The bite marks on my arm have healed - or disappeared rather - but the sick zone is quickly becoming as stiff as a board. Like the tentacles of a sea monster, my wither-infested veins are branching out further day by day.

At first, I think Petra may have chosen the wrong attire today, needing to take off her arm sleeve to cool off. However, she slides it carefully over my arm, handling it better than I thought she would.

"Don't look at it. If they check up on it, put the sleeve right back on afterwards," she says emolliently.

I gulp thickly at how she even considers my pain. Would I go on a bizarre adventure hunting for blue mushrooms if she were sick? Or would I refuse just to uphold my duties in Beacontown?

"Thank you," I mumble. "You're really willing, huh?"

"It's my life for yours." Petra expresses something that resembles a chuckle. "Now how about we figure out the mycelium problem."

"Right. And why couldn't the Old Builders find it again?"

"The Atlas couldn't locate it."

Oddly, I sense that I have seen a blue mushroom before, though the memory is too deep in the folds of my mind. I discharge my efforts of trying to retrieve it and focus instead on the leads Petra provides me with. "Okay, so the mycelium ought to be found in a place the Atlas hasn't registered. Have you been to anything like that?"

"That's what Ivor asked me, though the Atlas knows a lot more than I do."

"Surely we've been through a portal that led us to an obscure world. What about Sky City? Or maybe even the Nether?

"Jesse, you're really making me stroll back down memory lane and I'm pretty sure the Old Builders know those places already."

Hang on. Atlas. Old Builders. Whatever the Atlas knows, the Old Builders should too. That's it!

"Alright, alright, let me rephrase my first question: have we ever been to a place the Old Builders never knew about?" I ask.

"They know every single portal in the portal network."

"Right! But what about the ones that weren't in the portal network? The portals that someone else made in this world?"

She takes a moment to figure it out, but once she does, her lips part into a wide smile and she gasps. "Romeo's portals! Romeo's worlds!"

"Bingo!"

"His terminal space is gone; the underneath is where I need to go!"

I snap my fingers, proud. I see it vividly now, diamond glowing mushrooms all around me as I compete in a trivia contest on a remote island. "The blue mycelium lies in Fred's Keep."

"Jesse, you're a genius!" Petra exclaims, her face now a gleaming torch before it wavers hazardously. "But how am I gonna get there? It's not like I can just teleport back to the Sunshine Institute and find the tower that leads us below the bedrock."

Resting my chin on my hand, I hum reflectively. "Hm, I remember that some of the Admins' portals weren't activated and needed something to power them. Gabriel's amulet took us to the Order's Temple. I still have Binta's compass, so maybe it'll take you to Fred's Keep."

"You still have Binta's compass?"

"Well, it's actually in Beacontown, but so is the Primary Terminal's portal. Just put the compass in the portal's item frame and you should be good."

Her shoulders drop, either because of relief or tense nerves, and she blows her cheeks out. "Okay, I've got this."

The sound of footsteps rise from the floor. In the other room, a tea kettle whistles the end of its boil, the frequency drilling holes into my eardrums. Currently, it's the peak hour that visitors come to see their loved ones which is why the noisy distractions next door are crescendoing.

Suddenly, Petra's head droops, her rollercoaster of hope at its all-time lowest. "I'll be gone a long time, Jesse. I won't be able to measure the days I spend down there. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine," I say with an onerous grin, "I believe in you, Petra."

There are a few things I've picked up from being around this particular redhead: one is that she will always keep it real. Whatever she says is never a lie, though she can hide the truth whenever she wants to and no one would suspect a thing. At the same time, that also means she won't make any promises she can't keep. It's more likely for a snowman to get used to a summer heatwave than for Petra to promise that she'll return with a blue mushroom in her hands.

Instead, she says, "You know this could be the last time we see each other," tears jumping to the base of her eyes, ready to spill.

It doesn't hit as hard for me, though I don't know if I've already accepted my fate yet. I know I should have as soon as I got bitten, although the cure - the plot twist that'll alter the whole story - caught me off guard.

Will I be dead by the time my best friend comes back? That's not the most pleasant to think about.

Out of pure laziness, I invite her onto my bed and we embrace. Tightly.

We crush each other.

We weep.

I no longer care about the pain I'll feel, both physical and mental. Neither do I care about pointlessly upholding all the remaining responsibilities I have left in Beacontown.

I care about who I'm gonna leave behind. Axel, Olivia, Lukas, and the lot.

And Petra.

Goodness, I cannot leave her again.

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