Withering World 1 [MCSM Fanfiction]

TRANSMISSION: Chapter 26

Lukas

We're in the clouds. The blinding, roaring, ominously swirly, dense fog moving in like chariots of darkness.

As we step on the surface, it feels as if the mines break away, crumbling to dust beneath us. Flora is flourishing, wrestling with the buildings both short and tall, choking them, infecting them with their vast seas of moss and ivy vines. The sky is indigo and plagued with raven ink. What's worse are the hostiles - no longer an assorted selection of the zombies, spiders and creepers. Only wither skeletons soldier the grounds, unrightfully claiming this territory. The inexterminable scent of coal reeks all over.

This is Beacontown.

"Woah-" Petra needs to catch her breath, unable to hide the shock on her face, "this- this is worse than QZ's surface."

On our left, not too far off is the beacon and its diseased spire, groaning and spitting out fresh skeleton spawns.

We skirt a building, our backs pressed like clay firmly against the walls. Forcefully, I put a finger over my lips as I'm made aware of the mobs all around us. "If we get caught by one, we get caught by all," I whisper to Petra.

She resumes her sneaky sidesteps until she reaches the edge of the brick wall, searching for the place of the hidden treasure. After a while, she finally sees the Order Hall through its disguise of leaves and greenery. "Over there."

I tip-toe over to her, clutching the sample briefcase close to myself. The giant golden needle above the Hall has lost its significant shine.

"Hostile mobs only have the sense of sight and sound, right?" I ask.

"Yeah, which means it's only a matter of being seen or heard."

"What if we just dig under?"

"Too boring, and too risky," Petra says as she stares back in the mines's direction. "What if we miss the Order Hall and accidentally surface outside? And if we do get inside, we could get jump scared by skeletons already in there."

"What do you plan on doing?"

As she draws her sword, she backs up without warning, stepping on my foot.

"Sorry," she quakes, "we just need to be strategic about this. Have you got your good bow, the one with power on it?"

"Yes."

"I'll be behind you. Take out the ones you see until the coast is clear. Do not miss your shots and be as quiet as possible."

For a second, I feel like royalty whilst she makes way for me. I draw my bow and pull out my first arrow with a tremble, hoping I accomplish what Petra asks of me. To knock a multitude out silently without getting caught doesn't usually yield a high success rate. Moreover, I've never done anything like this in my life.

Life or infection is in my hands now.

One. I get my first arrow-through-the-eye shot, murdering a skeleton further away from the rest. Two. My second arrow impales its chest, death dragging it down in an instant. Three. I thought I missed my aim for this one, though it thankfully moves its leg to cross the arrow's path on time. Flustered, Petra kisses her teeth when its head flies up alarmed, making me scramble for my fourth arrow inflexibly.

"Petra-" I falter.

"What do you want me to do? Hold your quiver like a gentleman?"

I brush off her ignorant joke, seizing my fourth arrow like a climbing rope. My progress becomes rocky as the skeleton nears, charging at me like a bull with a sword in its hand.