The Crossover (A Hermitcraft Story)

Prologue

The Crossover (A Hermitcraft Fanfic)

Prologue (1519 words)

"We are graced today by the presence of the great cubfan135."

This statement boomed across the room as the subject stepped into the light emitting from the torches.

"Erm, great," Cub said, scratching his head. "Um, I have, like, other stuff to attend to, so if you would please excuse me." He brushed past the speaker who was still engulfed in shadows and attempted to reach the water elevator on his right. This was denied, however, as a hand with rough calluses reached over to Cub's hand and stopped him. Cub jumped at the contact and quickly distanced himself from the speaker tripping on the uneven floor and spluttering, "What the HELL do you want? If this is another prank, why in a green exitless pickle of all places?"

The speaker chuckled. His voice was hard to distinguish, though Cub was fairly sure he was a man. "No, no. This is not a prank, that, I can assure you. But what concerns me is that you stated this as a pickle." He went silent for a few seconds. "At first glance, it seemed to be a cucumber with glasses."

"Well, then it must be a very short and ugly cucumber," Cub said brusquely and once again headed toward the water elevator, but his partner's words stopped him in his tracks.

"I don't think so, Mr. Cubfan. I want to enlighten you about - ah - the ConCorp scenario, and I might be of assistance."

The man in the white lab coat stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly turned around to, for the first time, face his conversation partner. "What do you know? What do you want?" He asked coarsely, a pained smile etched on his lips.

"Well, to answer your questions, I know all, and I want nothing." The man stepped out of the shadows and spread his hands. He war a brown trench coat, brown jeans and a cowboy's hat. A familiar feathery face loomed across Cubfan as he took a step backward, repulsed by the sudden realization.

"Poultry Man," Cub hissed. "What do you want? And why in the name of Xisuma would you want to help me defeat Grian? I thought you two were supposed to be friends?"

Poultry man spread his arms. "We had an argument. This would be a perfect opportunity to get him back." His face looked pained, and he was silently directing Cub to not question further. He hastily changed the subject on more pressing matters. "I realize your once-flourishing company has now been rather bankrupt, with a lack of a better word."

Cub laughed hysterically. "Rather? We once had it all - Scar and I - until Sahara came along and those bloody Architechs - they stole ALL the business - all of our shops gone - we had to hide our faces in shame - do you not realize - how much we lost - Scar - At least he had other jobs which fed him well - but - but I - I am now 20 thousand diamonds in debt to Sahara - do you not realize why I was in the shop - trying to return the pickles I bought for the diamonds I paid - gone - all gone - my fortune -" And without warning, he burst into tears and started to cry. Poultry man offered a tissue to him which he gladly accepted and wiped his eyes.

"I feel the pain." Poultry man sighed sympathetically. "I once was a hero everyone loved. Now, I am no more than a disgraced myth, shunned by culture. Perhaps, I offer you a deal. I provide you with what you need, and you will in return help me with whatever I want to do. Would you accept my offer?"

Cub, emotionally distraught, thought none of it. "Yes - I will - I would do anything - anything at all - for your help,"

Poultry man smiled, apparently pleased with this answer. He offered a feathery hand to the distraught latter and they shook hands. "Now - just to be sure, only a mere formality - I would like you to sign this binding contract."