HI!

The End Has Come

It's all over now.

Scott finally got his happy ending. Shirking his crown, he happily went off with Milo. It worked. The spell worked. Now Scott was able to live out his life with his love. Scott was Milo's moonlight, his little shadow. Losing his magic was a price he was willing to pay if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with Milo. Scott was overjoyed.

Lauren was happy. She made friends! After years of being in the desert, alone, she had people that made her laugh. People that she cared about, and cared about her in return. Lauren liked having friends. It was much better than being alone, that's for sure. But her mind was doubtful. She ran instead of fighting that demon. Would the others forgive her? Lauren wouldn't know.

Pris was going to start her own family in the ocean. Pride welled in her chest as she swam amidst the waves. She could visit her sister. She could live her life. There was no way anyone could ever say she wasn't overjoyed. The water passed over her skin and she relished in the feeling. Pris was happy.

Shelbie was home again. It was awkward, especially after she set off the rain again, but she couldn't complain. Not when she was welcomed with open arms and into a warm hug. She melted into the touch with a smile on her face. Shelbie was grateful.

Eloise had found that crown. Some loser had just left it on the ground! And whilst she didn't know how someone could just leave it there, she didn't question it. Eloise readily picked it up and placed it on her head. She paid no mind to the runes on the ground, nor the circles of chalk. Eloise didn't see the shimmering dark-green glow pass over the crown.

Joey had followed Tiff through that portal. There was nowhere else that she could've gone. He scrunched his eyes shut and tried to ignore the unsettling crawl of goosebumps on his skin as the portal transported him. He didn't need to return to the mages that tossed him away when his magic was revealed. He didn't need to prove himself to them anymore. Joey just had to find his friend and make sure she was okay.

Tiff couldn't help but grin. This would be a new adventure. A new world. Those voices called to her, beckoning her to come with them, more hypnotic than a siren's song. Tiff wanted to take the plunge. Just like she had done with the competition. Only this time, there was no major incentive to do it. No Mother Nature calling her forth to help protect the plants. Tiff had chosen this.

Cleo marveled at her new body. No more rotted flesh. No more stitches holding her limbs together. No more time spent having to struggle with an undead body she was condemned to be trapped within. Cleo finally had a normal body again. A normal body with a beating heart. With no stitches. With no risk of falling apart if not for her magic keeping her together. Cleo was content.

Bertha had to follow Joey and Tiff. Without them, the two would likely get themselves in trouble within mere minutes. So, albeit somewhat reluctantly, Bertha bade their beloved Mertha goodbye as they ran towards the portal and stepped in. They watched as Mertha's image dissipated slowly. Everything soon was covered in green, green, green. Green everywhere. Just green. Bertha had to help them.

Happy endings never last. Loose strings must always be tied when all is said and done.

The story is not over just yet.

The Spread

It was spreading. His colony was growing every day. Bit by bit, it was expanding out of the corners he had planted them in and moving out into the daylight.

A smile curled at his lips.

He could feel them all even from the comfort of his home. Tiny tendrons snaking forwards. Miniscule mushrooms bursting out of the ground.

Everything was going according to plan.

---

Gem was the first, that he knew of, to notice.

Mushrooms were just...growing! Behind the house she'd made in her first life!

Really, they shouldn't be growing there. It wasn't the right habitat and there were no other patches of them elsewhere nearby.

Someone must have put them there. Surely.

Although, there was a huge amount of them. How had she not seen them before? It wasn't that well hidden. Not when they peeked out into her line of sight rather prominently.

Perhaps she should get rid of them. Or at least build something to keep them contained.

She didn't want them getting any closer.

---

The others had large patches, too.

Jimmy's patch of mushrooms were a stark contrast to the pinks and whites of his area. The dull grey of the mycellium was obvious against the emerald grass surrounding it, and the mushrooms were rather out of place amongst the flowers.

fWhip had a decent amount as well, perhaps the biggest of all of them. He didn't seem to notice them yet. Good. His area was large enough that they'd probably stay hidden for a while longer.

And Sausage? Obviously there were a couple mushrooms there as well! Hopefully, like fWhip, he wouldn't notice them just yet. The mushrooms there had grown considerably. It'd be a shame if he found them and took them down.

---

Of course if any of them did dare hurt them, Scott would retaliate.

Gaia be damned. She'd appreciate it, really. He was helping!

He sat in his home, taking a bite out of a cabbage roll that he didn't need to eat anymore. The taste was bland, nothing like how it had been in his last life as a transporter. Most food had lost its appeal.

The mushrooms outside his house were slowly beginning to creep down towards the rest of his area.

Perfect.

New Life Superhero/Villain AU!

My ideas for (some) of the creators in New Life as heroes or villains.

Heroes:

Jimmy - 'Cold Guy'

Gem - 'Inferno'

Sausage - 'Phoenix'

Owen/Sparrow - 'Copper'

Jimmy can manipulate ice to obtain super speed as well as create icy barriers to shield himself and others. Some joke that his abilities and Martyn''s are so similar that they could be siblings, but Jimmy refuses to divulge whether or not he was born with his powers.

Gem can control and manipulate fire. She accidentally burned fWhip with it when they were children and has never forgiven herself for it since. She believes he is dead.

Sausage can also manipulate fire, but unlike Gem, he can use it to fly as well as being able to heal people in a close radius to him. As a result, he chooses to fight long-range to avoid accidentally healing the villains he's fighting.

Sparrow is more durable and can fight longer than the others, as well as needing less rest and food. He tends to go on nightly patrols because of this. He stays away from Scott as they were friends as children.

Villains:

Scott - 'Mycellium'

Martyn - 'Blizzard'

Pearl - 'Golem'

fWhip - 'Trickster'

Scott has the power to summon and control fungi, and can grow them on people and animals to control them. In the past he used his ability on Jimmy, and Jimmy now has a scar on his chest from it.

Martyn can control ice to make himself impervious to attacks. He, like Jimmy, refuses to reveal how he got his powers, but for very different reasons. Martyn has scars all over his body and only Scott knows the reason for them.

Pearl has the same abilities as Sparrow and uses them so that she can carry out the harder work with less risk (e.g: bigger heists with higher risk of injury, taking on cops/vigilantes whilst the others continue what they're doing). She refuses to fight Sausage, but can't recall or explain why.

fWhip can shrink himself and uses this ability for breaking and entering, as well as stealing. Gem believes he died, but in truth he just shrank himself and ran away. He hasn't told her the truth, but holds nothing against her.

So what do you think? Who else could be a hero/villain? Any interesting backstory ideas?

Siren Song

The Mean Gills were thriving. Martyn focussed on building his hourglass whilst Scott had built them a house. And now that it was done, and Scott was out gathering materials, he took the time to get used to the storage system. It was odd, to say the least. He couldn't make sense of it. Although he did have to admit that the chests were at least somewhat organised. Martyn would never admit that it took him a solid ten minutes to get used to the storage system. In hindsight that didn't seem like a long time, but since everyone had twenty-four hours to live, it was kind of humiliating. It was like having fifty days to live and spending one of them trying to make sense of something simple.

He'd just put some stuff away when he heard it. In the distance, a tad bit muffled, he could hear something. Singing?

"Drown me underwater, watch as I flounder~" the song was low and quiet, but it's hypnotic melody caused Martyn to drop the wood he'd been holding. Curiosity held him in a vice-like grip and it refused to let go. "I'll gasp for air, for your touch, for your lips and your hair~," The song continued, slowly building in volume. The voice singing was clearly used to it, as each note was perfect and rich.

"H-hello? Anyone there?" Martyn called out. Nothing. No response. But the song kept playing upon his ears and his ears alone.

"As you pull me up and kiss me, water fills my lungs, is this something you'd miss?" The voice was closer now. Or maybe Martyn had subconsciously gotten closer to it. But he felt compelled to find the source. He barely even noticed as he gradually lost land to tread on and began to dip his feet into the water...

"Who's there?" He asked aloud. But before he could hear an answer, Martyn realised that he'd fallen into the water. The warm water was comforting. It warmed his bones and enveloped him in its embrace. He didn't want to leave. Even though his clothes were soaked and he'd lost his sandals despite not having moved, even though the water was filling his lungs-

"And when you release me and hold me down, the water floods my body, flowing down, down, down~," He was closer now. Martyn ignored the rational part of his mind telling him to swim back up and abandon his quest. But he was determined. And that voice was far too tantalising to ignore. "Down into my lungs and I forget how to breathe, but I see your smiling face and I forget how to leave, you keep me here~" And so he swam. Martyn swam down further and further. He was close to the coral. In fact, he was just skimming the sand at the seabed. Still no sign of the voice.

Actually, maybe he was wrong. Martyn saw a faint silhouette of someone not too far from him. He swam towards them. His movements were sluggish, and more and more water filled his lungs. If he didn't resurface he would die soon.

But he made it. Somehow Martyn had managed to reach them. A figure with a human body, but fins on their arms and legs and one ginormous one on their back, along with webbed fingers and toes and gills in their neck. The mop of cyan hair was familiar. So were the patches of colourful coral that clung to their skin. The jacket that had been torn and was loosely tied around their waist. Shimmering teal scales decorated the merfolk's body. They glinted like gemstones in the warped light illuminating the sea. The figure continued to sing, and slowly Martyn began to recognise more and more things. The way they sang sounded familiar. So were the figure's gestures. And when they turned around, Martyn recognised them in an instant.

"Scott?" His own voice was garbled, and water flooded in through his mouth. but he couldn't help but ask. Martyn suddenly felt light-headed. The lack of oxygen was finally catching up to him.

---

Martyn woke up later. He was in his bed with Scott kneeling down besides him, fretting over his still but newly conscious body.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit! Goddamnit, Scott, why did you do that? If you hadn't opened your stupid mouth to sing then he'd be fine!" Scott cursed himself. Martyn groaned, and Scott's attention snapped over to him in an instant. "Martyn! Are you okay? Can you breathe? Oh my god I'm so happy you're alright-" Scott cut himself off by tightly hugging Martyn.

"Whoa, whoa, sl-slow down. G-gimme a sec..." Martyn sat up and rubbed the side of his head. Scott had put on some clothes, but now that he'd seen the gills and the fins, Martyn couldn't un-see it.

"I'm so sorry about that. It was dumb and I should've thought and-"

"Calm down, Scott. It's fine," He grunted mildly in pain and coughed. Water flew out and splattered onto his clothes. "Wh-when were you gonna tell me you were a..." He struggled to find the right word.

"Siren? Merfolk? I was going to tell you later today, but I guess you beat me to it. A-and I am really sorry about this."

"Don't worry. And besides," He paused and locked eyes with Scott, taking on a grin. "You have a nice voice. And the fins really suit you."

"O-oh." Scott's face was bright red with embarrassment. "And I'll warn you if I sing again. I don't want you trying to drown yourself a second time around."

"Sounds good to me."

What If Scott And Milo Were Engaged?

What if Milo and Scott were engaged, but never managed to get married?

What if the two were about to get married in a few days? A few weeks?

To me, the idea makes Milo's death kinda sad. He died before he and Scott could get married. He died before he could see the man he loved walking down the aisle (or the other way around? not sure). Before they could get married. Before he could stop calling Scott boyfriend or fiance and finally call him husband.

That gives Scott a lot more incentive. He wants to get his happily ever after. His dream wedding with the man he loved. He even built their dream house! Scott is a grieving man trying to bring back his dead lover, but fiance makes it worse.

Because if Scott succeeded, he could finally marry his lover. Or it could backfire. Milo sees what his fiance became, and breaks it off as a result. Scott won for nothing. He did everything for nothing.

The home he built, the one he and Milo had dreamed of having whilst Milo was alive, would only then serve as a reminder of what Scott could've had. Of how Scott had become a monster.

Thanks! Have a great day/night!

Scott's Last Breath

There was no time. He was swimming, swimming, swimming, swimming for salvation, swimming to get away, swimming to live. Jimmy and Martyn were both there. He remembered Jimmy had given him time to hide. To hide before Jimmy set out to kill him and gain an extra hour. Scott was a target now. People were getting desperate.

Water began to fill his lungs. Scott was grateful he was a small part fish so that water would let him live, but now that he was approaching Yellow Life, even his fish anatomy was letting up and the water would kill him soon. Each panicked inhalation of water sent him closer to death.

"Martyn!" Scott cried out. His voice was muffled, but the look on Martyn's face spoke volumes. His friend nodded. He needed Martyn to kill him instead of Jimmy. Martyn was his ally. If Scott was going to die, then he wanted Martyn to be the one to take the extra hour. Not Jimmy.

"Scott, come to me!" Jimmy yelled through the water. Scott wouldn't. He couldn't.

His mind brought back memories filled with his husband in the flower fields, the flower crowns they wore and the small rings of twine as their wedding rings. He remembered standing in front of a grave with a poppy dropped at its base. He remembered dying and seeing his flower husband again.

Scott felt the searing pain of two blades piercing his body. Blood flowed out and into the water, staining it red in a gruesome pool of blood and pain.

He wanted it to end. He wished he could just die and avoid being constantly hunted down as the one on the server with the most lives.

Scott saw the wounds. He saw the wide gaping injuries littering his sides, chest, arms and legs. Locking eyes with Martyn, a final unspoken message was sent.

He was about to die. He was so low on health. Scott prayed in his mind that Martyn would deliver the blow. He hoped that, when he respawned, he'd be held by his fellow member of the Mean Gills, his ally, the only person he could really trust.

Scott's vision went black.

He felt his heart stop.

His body went cold.

The final damning message in the world, horrific words spelled out in the minds of every single player.

Smajor was slain by InTheLittleWood

At least his ally would get to live a little longer.

The Clock Is Ticking

The clock is ticking.

Lightning lights up the sky to mark the players that may never come back. They are remembered by the survivors. The threat of death looms over them all.

Eyes are everywhere. Hundreds of eyes crawling over the lands, the mountains, the bridges and the sea. They see it all. They smile and watch in quiet amusement as players perish. Those that watch know that they will succeed. After all, who can defy a game like this, with these rules, with no loopholes? For once, the players must play to perfection. There is no other option.

Bloodlust hit the players. Waves upon waves of the urge to kill. Hands itching for weapons. Bows and crossbows craving an arrow to fire. Blood pulsing through their veins, bubbling under their skin. The newfound reality of permanently dying only provides incentive. No one wants to die just yet.

Alliances fall apart. The so-called "Bad Boys" have been destroyed. Only one of them remains. And now they have joined a new group. So the name Bad Boys is no more than a memory that time has robbed of them.

The end cannot be prevented. No matter how much blood is shed. No matter how hard the players may try. They will die regardless of any efforts to thwart it.

Scott was taken by the sea, now belonging to its domain. The ocean was his and none could take it from him.

Martyn watched the sand of his hourglass. He knew time was running out and he would protect those he cared for until the end.

Grian lost them. Jimmy and Joel were dead. And now they were gone, and he joined the Nosy Neighbours, he couldn't help but curse those that watch for doing this to him.

Cleo feared for her family. She had not only her own time to take care of, but her boys' time too. There was a duty she'd taken up to protect them. And she refused to shirk it now.

TIES had lost Skizz. Now they were just TIE. Deaths were inevitable here, but the loss of their friend hit them. Skizz, who, despite losing over two hours in the first session, despite those that had killed him and despite the revenge that others would've taken, had chosen to instead be kind to the players. He'd made it his duty to complement and assure the others.

The clock was ticking.

For all of them.

Curse of Victory

Scott sat in his house, perched on his bed, with a book in his lap and a pencil in his hands. He turned to a blank page, then gazed pensively out his window and at the view.

He tapped his pencil against the corner of his lip.

In the past, he'd written about his allies and the chaos of the server. He'd documented the advancements made to the base. He recorded silly, useless details that had potential to become useful in the future.

Mostly though, he tried articulating his memories.

Other players - specifically the ones who hadn't been cursed blessed with victory - had poor recollection of past games. The memories were still there, they would still reappear from time to time, but mostly they lurked in the dark recesses of their minds until called upon. Those memories were old. They had no purpose to them other than to have them keep playing; the reward for victory, after all, was to remember.

Grian remembered everything. Scott knew that he remembered throwing himself off a cliff, cheating on Scar, his slow yet steady loss of his fellow Bad Boys until he had been left alone.

Pearl remembered everything, too. She knew about the trio he, her and Cleo had been in the past; how she had been abandoned by her soulmate yet still came out on top, and Scott took his life so she wouldn't have to suffer in that world longer; how she had at first been in a duo in the Nosy Neighbours, which soon became a trio.

Martyn remembered. He had been the Red King's Hand, his loyal soldier and servant who'd had the burden honour of taking his king's life. He, too, was left by his soulmate and had spent weeks trying to undo his wrongs and get back in her good books. He had been Scott's only ally in the last life game, loyal and devoted, and had taken the mantle of victor.

Scott knew what they remembered, because they had told him. In the cold, empty Void, awaiting the next game as they sat alone with no company but each other, they didn't have much else to do except share what they remembered.

He remembered flower fields with Jimmy, a poppy tucked behind his ear and a wedding ring of twine around his finger. He remembered his allyship with Pearl and Cleo, which split into a duo in the life game afterwards. He remembered the fish tail that had swished behind him and still half-expected it to be there at night.

Most of all, they all remembered the pain.

Scott had tried articulating his thoughts, writing them on paper to go over later. It didn't work, predictably. But the sentiment had been there.

Martyn and Jimmy were Red Lives now.

It was an odd thought. Jimmy had never had the best luck in the games, always being the first one to be eliminated from the game. He had been a terrible ally - always so accident-prone and clumsy - but he'd also been joyful and kind. He had been as vibrant as the colour of his canary wings, and burned as bright as the sun.

It seemed sensible that Jimmy would go down so quickly.

Martyn, on the other hand...

Martyn was vicious. He was ruthless and cunning and quick. In the heat of battle, his sword always struck true. He was a fighter, from birth to death. He did not die easily.

But, like all of them, he was mortal. And he was human. He was subject to such things as mortality.

Scott scribbled this down as best he could. His handwriting, normally pristine and fancy, was erratic and scruffy. The others would probably think someone else wrote this, but the winners would know.

They always did.

He set down his pencil and lay down, staring up at the ceiling.

His bed felt cold.

He sat up again and rose to his feet. He shuffled to his door, opened it, stepped outside into the cool night air and began to walk. Where, he couldn't say. His feet were carrying him in whichever direction they saw fit.

Scott left behind the plateau on the mountain and approached the open field at Spawn.

He spotted Martyn standing there awkwardly, yawning and dragging his feet along the ground.

"Martyn? What are you doing up this late?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," Martyn replied. His eyes glimmered red, sparkling rubies or flowing blood. Either way, they were beautiful. "Besides, a little Green Life out here, with no protection, and with a Red Life no less."

"You wouldn't try anything."

"Wouldn't I?"

"No." He spoke with conviction. He slowly drew nearer to the Red Life and paused a few centimetres from him. Scott cupped Martyn's cheek, and the Red Life leaned into the touch ever so slightly. There was hesitation in his eyes.

Martyn sighed, taking a step back. "I want this to end."

"You want to go back to the Void that much?"

"No? Yes? I don't know! It's... it's frustrating." He folded his arms and stared at the floor. "I just want things to be clear again. I want to talk to you without feeling the urge to rip your arms off. Hell, I want to talk to people in general!"

Scott grabbed Martyn gently by the arm. Without a word, they both travelled up to Pearl's base. He knocked on the door and was met with the image of Pearl - bushy hair, bags under her eyes - grumbling to herself.

"What?"

Scott, with Martyn in tow, pushed past and into the room. "Wait here," he commanded. "I'll be back soon."

He quickly ran up to the plateau, silently sneaking into his house and taking the bed. He legged it all the way back, using the diving board for assistance. He placed it down up against a free spot on the wall.

Pulling the covers back, he hopped in and patted the space next to him. Martyn nervously crawled in.

Pearl watched them awkwardly. Then she sent out a message via her comm.

"We're having a winners' sleepover." she stated.

Scott nodded.

Grian appeared a few minutes later, with two other beds. He placed them near to Scott's and the other two victors got under the covers.

"To victory, and shitty memories." Scott said, and the others repeated it.

Scott and Martyn tangled in each other's limbs with a small smile on their faces. It felt good, to be like this again. He'd missed it.

As slumber overcame him, Scott had one final thought.

He was home.

Homesickness and Experimentation

The Nether was truly perilous.

Two lives had been lost to the cruel domain. It stole and stole the life that organisms thrived upon, and stole even more. The Nether stripped its inhabitants of all things that linked them to any other dimension. The Nether was a horrid entity that hungered for all creatures that wandered in and out of its realm to become one with its lands.

Scott knew this well. But he still needed the resources.

The transporter entered the Nether with a vague knowledge of it. Lava tended to be everywhere, so he couldn't just teleport freely like he could on the Overworld. Monsters of all kinds resided here, too, and there were certain requirements to fulfil in order to ensure he didn't get attacked.

So, hastily crafting a pair of golden boots and pulling them onto his feet, he continued on.

He landed somewhere beautiful. Because whilst the Nether was dangerous and unforgiving, it was beautiful in a way no other dimension could be. Scott had been spat out of his portal in a corner of the Nether with greenish-blue and pearly colours everywhere. The warm hues of the faded light of lava cast contrasting tones of light onto the cool-coloured area.

Looking down at his body, pale and adorned with colours of teal and orange, there was the strange feeling that he somewhat belonged here. As if, somehow, this area was made with him in mind. Or perhaps he had been created in the image of this part of the Nether.

But he wasn't in the right area. So, Scott attempted to return home via the sheep he'd marked before his departure.

...

Nothing. He was just in a different area. The generic part of the Nether, with lava flowing everywhere, the dull crimson of netherrack and the faint growls of creatures.

Scott tried again. Tried teleporting back home again.

Still nothing. There was still lava everywhere. The heat was absolutely scorching. If he'd been Martyn, he probably wouldn't have survived more than a couple minutes.

Well. All he could do now was make his own portal and see where on the Overworld he ended up.

Only, he didn't have obsidian on him. Not enough for a return portal.

This was going to be a long day. Or was it nighttime?

---

Sparrow had been working for hours.

Staring at the machinery, hoping it would assemble itself, he let his mind wander. This may not work. He may not be able to get powers like this. After all, there was no guarantee that he actually was a hybrid.

Although he remembered, before his journey here, that some people used questionable means in order to attain powers. Dangerous ones. Ones that were severely unethical.

But if that was all it took, was it not worth it?

With a tired sigh, he stood up. Sparrow's mind was not in a good place. That was why he was considering something so ridiculous. What good could be done by experimenting on himself? Or any hybrid nearby? All that would come of it would be pain and dead ends.

At least, that was what he'd been taught.

But what if it actually worked? Sure, it was probably rude to kidnap and experiment on your neighbours. But maybe he could take someone who didn't know who he was? That would make it hurt less on both sides. Sparrow couldn't imagine experimenting on the hybrids he knew. Seeing Sausage or Scott in a cage, the colour drained from them, their usually upbeat and chaotic energies dampened by fatigue or whatever things he'd done to them would be horrible.

Even if Sausage had done a lot of bad stuff, Scott was a bit of a nuisance from time to time.

The nicer hybrids he knew would be destroyed. A husk of their former selves. Lifeless.

The thought made him shiver.

Sparrow approached a tree. He'd heard of hybrids with the ability to fly in the past. Maybe he could trigger a reaction by jumping from a tree, or trying to mimic bird behaviours?

Before he could process it, he was already halfway up the tree. He kept going. Sparrow reached the top of the tree. Falling from this height would likely break a limb. Or, in a truly severe case, maybe even kill him if he was careless. The tree was much taller than he had thought.

Without a second thought, Sparrow jumped.

---

Scott had been searching for hours.

His stomach ached painfully. He'd been eating soup and cabbage rolls as his usual diet, but the Nether seemed to make his stomach crave something else. Sure the food replenished his hunger, but it wasn't satisfactory.

By complete accident he had stumbled across an abandoned city. The streets were empty, entirely empty. Empty enough to send shivers sprinting down Scott's spine until he was shivering.

There was something unsettling about the city.

In the Overworld, most villages were teeming with life. They'd have villagers wandering around, joyfully selling their wares in exchange for emeralds. Iron golems would roam freely. The occasional cat would dart around and, if you were lucky, would nuzzle your leg and let you pet them.

But in the Nether this was not the case.

He couldn't do it. Couldn't stay here. Scott had been in a couple houses and taken some dressers, but the air was too stuffy. He couldn't breathe. Everything was so similar but so different at the same time. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he was back home in his bed dreaming.

But no. Scott was stuck in the Nether.

In the distance was a nether fortress.

---

Sparrow almost felt like he was flying.

Wind whipped against his body as he fell. He let out a cry of joy, delighting in the breeze that tickled him gently. The sky embraced him. If he shut his eyes, he could picture himself flying across the sky as the sun set. Warm colours of gold and rosy pinks mingling with the pale cotton clouds.

A content smile curled at his lips.

He spread his arms out wide.

The ground drew nearer and nearer.

He didn't see it. Why would he? With his eyes shut, he could be anywhere doing anything. Why would he confine himself to reality when his imagination was there for him? Sparrow would never have to be a regular human again. He could be anything he wanted with his eyes shut.

And shut they remained.

The ground got closer and closer.

Closer.

The wind finally ceased.

Sparrow's eyes opened.

The ground was there waiting for him.

He screamed. He screamed and screamed because he knew this landing was going to hurt. He screamed because he was an idiot for believing this would work. He screamed because there was nothing else he could do.

He hit the ground.

---

Scott finally got what he came for in the first place.

But the problem he was facing was finding obsidian. Because the nether fortress was huge, and there was almost no way he'd be able to cover every inch of the place alone.

Especially with mobs attacking him.

Eating another cabbage roll, he assembled his thoughts. There wasn't much more he could do other than keep looking. Staying in the Nether was certainly not an option. Scott would rather die than spend another minute here.

If he was really unlucky, that could be arranged for him.

Scott stumbled over his own feet as he ran. He hadn't been hit yet, and he didn't want to let the mobs get a chance to.

Chests were everywhere and contained all sorts of things. Still not enough obsidian. At best he'd managed to find four pieces, but that wasn't enough for a full portal.

He cursed as an arrow narrowly missed him.

Sprinting, he wasted no time in making his escape. The chests could wait until he wasn't in danger.

---

Groaning, Sparrow tried to sit up.

His legs shrieked in protest.

Oh well. That's what he gets for being so reckless.

Sparrow grabs some food and eats it. Feeling slightly better, he surveyed his situation. Broken legs, definite pain in his arms and some minor pain in his back. His neck ached, but his head was mostly okay.

This was the price he'd pay. So he wouldn't complain.

Perhaps he'd just have to try other methods.

A syringe would work, right?

---

Scott finally got his hands on the last bits of obsidian he needed to get home.

With intense eagerness, Scott placed the obsidian down in the formation and lit his flint and steel. There was a whoosh sound, and then the portal had been ignited.

As a goodbye, Scott nodded his head and leapt through the portal.

He felt the familiar nauseating feeling of going through the portal to and out of the Nether. Then, he was back on the Overworld. Back with the sun and grass and water. Back with his house, farms and friends.

Scott didn't have the neergy to go to his bed to sleep.

Curling up on the ground, he allowed himself some rest.

Bertha Theory/Character Study (?)

So I saw the video Bertha had, and this came to my mind.

To start with, at the end of the video, Bertha mentioned something their sister did to them. Now I immediately thought that Bertha's sister sabotaged them and became the Supreme Witch. But then why does Bertha bother hosting a competition for the role of Supreme Witch when they had been told their whole lives that they were worthy of the role? So now, I present to you...

What if Bertha is cursed? Cursed to be everywhere and nowhere, and never be fully present in the world? They commune with the animals, can instantly see their lives, apparently sold their soul to Scott (which kinda confused me for a sec - can't tell if that was a joke or not) and they don't seem to talk much to the other witches outside of the Dungeons. Even Pris touched on that in the video! So what if Bertha is cursed to forever remain semi-present in the world?

I think of it as the Curse Of The Entity. Because Bertha did mention that they were an Entity. So what if this curse basically turns anyone into an Entity? The doors that alone could open is unbelievable: Scott could use it to bring someone back, Tiff could fulfill Mother Nature's orders with it, Joey could prove himself to the frost mages, and so much more!

So yeah. Bertha has a curse placed on them by their sister to forever be an Entity, never fully able to live their own life and enjoy themself.

How's that?