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“Okay… I think we’re safe here.”
No nametags, no footsteps. Nothing.
Wemmbu stayed pressed against the cave wall for another moment, listening carefully. Only after making absolutely sure did he gesture toward Egg and Minute.
Safe.
For now.
He heard Minute let out a slow breath. Then heavy footsteps.
Egg gave a quiet “Oh,” and shifted, helping Minute lower himself against the cave wall.
“You okay?”
“Probably not…”
Minute’s voice came out so quietly that Wemmbu almost missed it.
Something was wrong.
The particle effects still clung to him.
Poison. Still active. Way too long after it should’ve faded.
Egg sat down and carefully let Minute rest against his shoulder.
Minute could barely support himself anymore. His hands kept slipping. His body gradually sagged lower and lower until he was practically lying in Egg’s lap.
His pale white eyes stared blankly into the darkness of the cave. Wemmbu waved a hand in front of his face. Minute reacted a few seconds too late.
Bad sign.
“Egg, you got milk in your ender chest?”
“Probably not. And I don’t think I can organize my inventory right now, bro.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Shulker boxes were scattered everywhere. Wemmbu searched through them more and more aggressively.
Nothing useful. No milk. No cure. Eventually he found a spare Totem of Undying instead.
He shoved it into Minute’s hand. Minute couldn’t even grip it properly. Egg gently placed his own hand over Minute’s, keeping the totem pressed there.
If the totem activated, the poison would disappear with it.
They could worry about the wounds afterward.
Still—
watching Minute get weaker and weaker felt horrible.
Minute was always quiet, like the thick darkness covering the End itself. Steady, and reliable, always there when advice was needed. Somewhere along the way he’d apparently learned proper manners, too.
Wemmbu had never not once—
seen him collapse bonelessly into somebody else’s arms like this.
It felt wrong.
Wrong enough to make panic crawl under his skin. He needed to do something.
But what?
Hit him?
Trigger the totem early?
Wemmbu grabbed the handle of his mace. A nervous habit. Still, he couldn’t decide.
“Bro. Calm down.”
Egg’s voice came softly. He must’ve noticed.
“I’m trying to figure out what the hell to do!”
“There’s a saying about this.”
Egg adjusted Minute slightly.
“The more anxious you are, the easier it is to mess up.”
Then, after a pause:
“Besides.”
He glanced at Minute.
“It’s almost time.”
“What?”
Then—
“Oh.”
The sound left Wemmbu’s mouth before he could stop it.
God.
He sounded stupid.
Minute was quiet. Too quiet.
Egg kept holding onto his hand, making absolutely sure the totem didn’t slip away. The poison kept eating through him too fast.
Blood mixed with the damp cave air.
Then—
Pop!
The totem shattered.
Minute’s whole body jerked violently. He pitched sideways, away from Egg, didn’t want to stain his clothes. One hand caught on a rough outcrop in the cave wall, the other braced against the ground.
Then came coughing. He threw up blood mixed with stomach acid. Every movement tugged painfully at old wounds. Wemmbu could hear the sharp sounds of him sucking air through clenched teeth.
Somewhere between sympathy and panic, Wemmbu found himself crouching right in front of him.
“Minute…”
Minute grabbed his arm. It’s Hard enough to hurt, like he was clinging to the only solid thing left. Wemmbu carefully put his other hand over Minute’s and tried to pry it loose.
Minute made a quiet sound. Realization, maybe.
He loosened his grip. Egg immediately pulled him back against his shoulder.
“This is… pretty awful.”
Minute gave a weak, crooked smile.
“Yeah.”
Wemmbu snorted.
“You look like a soaked sponge.”
To his surprise, Minute laughed rough and hoarse, apparently something about Wemmbu’s wording had landed.
Wemmbu almost tried to keep the joke going.
“Okay. I’m patching you up now.”
He pointed.
“Don’t move.”
“Understood.”
“If it hurts too much, grab Egg. Don’t grab me.”
“Got it.”
“I’m fine with that,” Egg announced immediately. “Do your worst.”
It was honestly tragic that Minute couldn’t see the ridiculously serious expression on Egg’s face. Wemmbu ignored him as hard as possible.
He wasn’t exactly experienced at patching people up, which had never been his job because he always charged in first. He protected Egg, protected everyone he wanted alive. Usually, someone else handled the bandages afterward while giving him lectures he’d immediately ignore.
Wemmbu, stop getting into trouble.
Wemmbu, stop throwing yourself into danger like an idiot.
Same old speech.
“…This might hurt.”
“It’s okay.”
“…Minute—”
“Hey.”
The Guardian of the End blinked slowly.
“Don’t underestimate me.”
A faint smile.
“You have no idea how many battles I’ve survived.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Wemmbu exhaled sharply.
“Then don’t complain.”
Still—
he was nervous.
Too rough with bandages. Too clumsy with stitches. Never quite sure where things were supposed to go.
Minute stayed impossibly quiet.
Only the occasional twitch of his brow betrayed the pain.
Egg kept holding his hand, taking some of the pressure, keeping him still whenever he shifted too much.
“…Phew.”
Only after the final bandage was secured did Wemmbu finally let out a breath, like he’d forgotten how to breathe entirely.
“Okay.”
He sat back.
“That should be everyth—”
Egg was suddenly making frantic eye contact.
Wemmbu frowned.
“What?”
“Little help, bro.”
Egg grimaced.
“My leg cramped.”
“…Pff.”
Wemmbu was absolutely certain he heard Minute laugh out loud.
Just a little. Minute was good at reading situations. He probably knew laughing too hard would reopen something. Being healthy had suddenly become a luxury.
Wemmbu burst out laughing.
“Alright, alright.”
He waved a hand.
“You stay right there.”
“Bro, listen, this isn’t because I wanted to sit like this.”
Egg groaned dramatically.
“Oh god, I literally can’t move.”
Then quickly—
“Oh—Minute, trust me, I’m absolutely not saying you’re heavy.”
“I know…”
Minute probably could’ve played that off with a little more dignity.
Normally, anyway.
Right now, though he seemed too exhausted to bother, Wemmbu carefully helped lower him onto the cave floor, propping him against the wall. Then he dug through nearby chests for anything remotely soft. Blankets, Cloth, or Something. Eventually he rolled together enough random fabric to resemble a pillow.
Somewhere, buried in the complete disaster he’d made of their supplies, were his and Egg’s sleeping bags. Probably inside one of the shulker boxes he’d overturned while frantically looking for medical supplies.
But now, everything was mixed up.
And honestly?
He had no idea anymore.
When he looked back up, Minute was staring at him.
Immediately, panic returned.
“You feeling worse?”
Wemmbu straightened.
“You hurt somewhere?”
His confidence in his own medical skills hovered somewhere below zero.
Minute hesitated.
“It’s more that…”
He looked oddly uncertain.
“You told me earlier not to fall asleep. So I’m not entirely sure whether this is an appropriate time to—”
“Oh.”
Wemmbu shrugged.
“That was just me checking how bad your injuries were.”
He waved a hand dismissively.
“I mean, if you’re tired, go ahead and sleep. Me and Egg are right here anyway.”
“Yeah,” Egg added.
Minute looked between the two of them.
“I understand. It’s just…”
A faint smile.
“I’m not used to this.”
“What, sleeping?”
“You know what I mean, Wemmbu.”
Minute’s voice turned vaguely mysterious in that annoying way he occasionally liked to speak.
“Being chased. Hiding in unfamiliar caves. Staying awake because danger could show up at any moment.”
His gaze drifted toward the dark tunnel.
“Most of the time, I don’t exactly have teammates around to watch my back.”
Silence.
Wemmbu looked away.
Not Minute’s fault. It’s just his own thing. He tried not to talk about things like this around Egg.
Among players who lived through PvP, who practically survived through fighting, this stuff was obvious. Common sense.
The price of staying strong. Necessary sacrifices. Wemmbu had never even admitted to Egg how carelessly he treated himself whenever he traveled alone.
Skipping meals. Ignoring injuries. Letting cuts heal on their own, well, demons healed fast.
Nothing ever scarred, which meant Egg never noticed. And conveniently, never asked.
Wemmbu glanced at him now, trying to read his expression. No luck, as always, Egg turned toward Minute instead.
“Bro.”
He tilted his head.
“I think you should go easier on yourself.”
“Hm?”
“You sleep way too lightly.”
Egg crossed his arms.
“I can wake you up just by turning pages in a book.”
“Oh.”
Minute looked mildly surprised.
“You noticed?”
“I’ve lived in the End for ages.”
For some reason, Egg sounded proud of this. Wemmbu didn’t remotely understand why.
Minute laughed quietly. Then glanced at Wemmbu. That look again.
He’s interesting, isn’t he?
Minute had said versions of that to him plenty of times. Wemmbu gave the smallest nod.
Yeah, he is.
Minute tipped his head back against the cave wall, staring toward the ceiling.
“So…”
He sounded hesitant now.
“If anything happens…Wake me up, Okay?”
“Of course.”
Wemmbu rolled his eyes. Suddenly, he understood. Maybe this was why Minute got irritated with him sometimes.
Damn battlefield habits. They all did it.
Repeated normal things over and over. Checked everything twice, even three or more times. Because if they didn’t—
people died.
Honestly, there probably wasn’t a worse group of people for peaceful living than PvP players on this server.
And yet—
for now—
the three of them simply sat there.
Listening to water drip somewhere deeper in the cave.
Spending the night together in silence.