Oneshots! (Mostly Hermitcraft)

Running to Never: We claw our way to the top [Impulse]

Febuwhump Day 10: Killing in Self Defence ft. 3rd Life!Impulse

Summary:
Five will become four. Four will become three. Three will become two. Two will become one.

One will become none.

The 3rd Life arena is finally coming to an end, and Impulse doesn't want to be the one who dies.

TWs: blood, gore, injuries, death, derealisation, nihilism, mercy killing

HURT NO COMFORT. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

I need to get down there. I need to make sure he's okay.

Bdubs. Day One crew. There's five of us left. Me, him, Grian, Scar, and BigB. I need to make sure he's okay.

Grian and Scar are... threatening him? Is there a fight? I can't tell. I need to get down there. I need to get down there now.

I squint at the bright sky, shielding my eyes from the sun with one hand. The other rests on the hilt of my sword, next to a quiver of arrows. The bowstring of my longbow, the main shaft of the weapon nearly as tall as I am, rests on my shoulder and crosses my chest. I can slip it off easily enough. Its length and thickness are what give it its strength, although it requires a massive draw strength. Regardless, I can't see myself going into battle without it. Besides, its enchantments more than make up for it.

Finally, I spot the ender pearl as it arcs downward toward the trio. I frown with concern, watching Bdubs talk and... barter (?) with Scar and Grian. The teal orb is near the end of its journey, so I brace myself for the eventual warp. It lands, and I feel the familiar tugging on my core as it creates a crease in the fabric of space, forcing me to fall down the fold and hit the ground where it had landed.

"There's someone here," Scar warns them. I can hear the suspicion and fear in his voice as I shake off the inevitable soreness from the teleport. I barely glance at the row of crimson hearts carved into my left forearm, feeling them regenerate and fade slightly.

"It's just me," I call, climbing out of the pit I had landed in. "What's going on boys?"

"Impulse," Bdubs says smoothly – almost too smoothly. Immediately, my heart rate spikes, leaping into my throat as he shows me the golden clock, attached by a chain to his belt. "They gave me a clock."

I look at him incredulously, scanning him from head to toe. A potion rests in his opposite hand, glowing green and swirling in its glass bottle. He tucks away his clock, patting the pocket it goes into.

"They gave me a clock," he says quietly. In a flash, he draws his sword and leaps forward, swinging it in a one-armed arc. It cuts across my chest, causing blood to well up and begin to spill down my shirt. On my left arm, the hearts begin to bleed again, three and a half of the symbols dripping blood from their outlines.

"Whoa!!!" I yell, drawing my sword and parrying his next strike, retaliating through the nearly blinding pain to score a long cut down the arm that holds the potion. He yells in pain as I retreat, creating distance as my basic magic works to clot and heal – partially – the laceration across my chest.

"I need to do this! I'm sorry! They gave me a clock!" Bdubs explains desperately, hurling the potion at my feet.

A poisonous cloud bursts into the air, latching onto my skin. Hives break out where it makes contact, splitting open and burning from their quick progression. I bite back a scream, sheathing my sword and whipping my bow over my head, settling my left hand on the grip. I draw and nock an arrow with my opposite hand, supporting the shaft and point on my finger.