Withering World 1 [MCSM Fanfiction]

HABITATION: Chapter 34

Jesse

Many of the symptoms listed on the leaflet have already occurred within my body. Where is the leaflet now? Torn. Shredded. Ripped up into itty bitty flakes, thrown across my room like a blizzard of paper. Some patients will have a strong regret about seeing that WITHER leaflet and I'm not quite sure if I was meant to or not.

There's one thing I regret though: letting both Petra and Lukas go on the quest together. Petra would've visited me the most and if not her, then it would be Lukas. I also take back all the harsh things I said to her about working rather than making time for my friends because now, I'm more melancholy than ever. Call me ungrateful for their services, but the irregular visit from Harper or even Olivia is not enough. All they can babble on about is work, sickness, and time. All I want with my remaining time is to live normally again; talk about our early days in the building competitions, or slaying the Witherstorm- okay maybe not about slaying the Witherstorm. However, managing people in Beacontown pushed me away from all the opportunities I got to spend with them. I only realize that now, on a deathbed, the most unlikely situation I'd currently be in if there was no WITHER spreading its havoc.

As predicted, one of the researchers - the one I appointed as the head, in fact - scampers through my door ready to apply some analgesic to the expanding patch of decay on my arm. The next moment, I know he'll take off, delivering the same drug to others at my stage.

"How's work, Ivor?" I try to stall, offering him my weak arm.

It baffles me how many times they've done this, and still, I'm not used to the icy stab of the needle. My jaw clenches.

"A little more stressful without one of our star researchers. After all, he developed most of the WITHER process with Olivia. I was planning on making them second-in-command together, but..."

Ivor says this as if Lukas was dead. It fills me with skepticism how he can't bring himself to refer to him by name. Remorse swims in his eyes and his brows flex upwards.

"But what?" I ask.

"Let's talk about it later. We have something new to show you."

In that moment, the door clicks open, revealing both Olivia and Harper. Though I despise the idea of hierarchy and greater authority, I've been given one of the biggest rooms in the hospital; four is still a bit of a crowd in here, though.

Olivia's sage beanie and goggles have been stuffed into her right pocket. There in her left hand is a sort of device with legs full of joints built like... a spider? I dismiss the spider thought when I see the four propellers mounted on top. Harper holds a square-shaped interface card with an antenna and a few glossy red knobs sticking out of it. That must be the controller.

"In our department, we haven't just been working on developing our knowledge around the sickness or the cure. We want to defeat it altogether." She activates the invention with the press of a button on her controller. The lights flash red on the black-and-white striped robot and Olivia takes it as her cue to set it down, its slender legs surprisingly holding the entire structure up.

"This drone will make a trip back to Beacontown using its propellers. It'll get to the beacon and yank out that withered nether star. We'll find some nearby lava or cacti to dispose of it. No long, risky journey and no sickness transfer. Easy." The engineer's proud eyes follow the drone. "Hopefully, it'll stop the fallout, and the skeleton spawns, and the roses too."

Demonstrating what it can do, Harper presses another button and pulls on one of the red knobs to let it fly. "We're releasing it today. That's why we came to you; so you could watch the screen."

A distraction from my sickness... intelligent.

Without saying another word, Ivor walks out, presumably to continue his work. He doesn't leave without giving Harper, who's now pulling the mini TV closer to me, a soft touch on the shoulder.

When the door closes, Harper switches on the TV and fidgets with the controller a little more until a display of familiar surroundings flashes on the screen. As the drone moves, the image moves as well. The drone's camera swings, getting a good visual of everything around it, including a few frames of me captured on the TV - and I do not look pretty.

I'm a disoriented ghost dressed in dull blue. Anyone could tell I haven't been out of my bed in ages: I'm too comfortable under WITHER's bodysuit.

"Let's get this little guy off to Beacontown," Olivia says. Her remark gets the Old Builder to open the door and fly out the small mechanism, which sticks to skirting the ceilings most of the time. We see the whites of the department corridors fade into the dark grays of QZ's residential walls.

The drone finally uses the elevator to ascend to surface level. It beeps and boops a couple of times before turning a one-eighty and flying at full speed straight on. Harper is switching things on the controller, pressing and pulling various buttons. "We already programmed it to carry out its commands alone since the journey would take a while, like auto-pilot. Jesse, we'll leave it with you to watch over it."

I smile halfheartedly and lean against my pillow, knowing that they're doing this to try to divert my attention away from my condition. On the screen, I can see every rustling blade of grass and every wretched, infectious creature giving their undivided attention to the noise of the drone's propellers. I feel as if I'm operating at headquarters on a rescue mission.

Ivor re-enters my ward, gladly rid of the needle and replaced with a healing potion which he gives to Olivia. She then unplugs the opening and holds it to my lips.

After the bottle is empty, she takes it away, leaving only Harper, Ivor, and I in the room.

"I will tell you about Lukas now," he says as he finds a chair to sit on.

Attentively, I engage. "Yeah. What about Lukas?"

"We sort of... had a little argument."

Disappointment knits my brows together, and I rub one of my temples. "An argument with Lukas? Really, Ivor?" I ask, making his cheeks visibly heat. "Tell me you at least fixed it before he left."

"Erm. Our argument was kind of the reason why he left."

"Are you kidding me?"

Harper, filled with second-hand embarrassment, contorts her face, transferring her gaze from us to the ever-changing TV screen.

It takes a few deep breaths to refrain from raising my voice - that would be unhealthy for me in every way right now. Even a multitude of my coughs come to demand the softening of my tone. "What were you even fighting about?"

"Okay- so in short, it started because of... Petra's WITHER test results."

"Her test results? What about them?"

"I can't say."

My eyes almost press together, and I lick my teeth beneath my lips in bewilderment. "I don't normally play this card, Ivor, but for the remaining time I'm alive, I'm still your leader. Disclosing Petra's results to me is a command, not a request."

He grumbles whilst making me wait.

"Go on," prods Harper, "tell her the dang revelation."

The head researcher clears his throat.

"Well, Petra's... she's..."

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