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The netherack was hot on his back, almost scorchingly so, as he leaned back on it. Brock let out a shaky sigh of relief, sword slipping out of his hands, as he watched the baby zombie piglin disappear in a puff of smoke. His heart felt as though it could beat out of his chest, but he pushed through once more and reached into his bag, grasping the cool glass of a second health potion and dropping it at his feet. The glass dissipated, and he felt his shaking subside as his body restored itself.
He was alive, he realized, despite everything going wrong. Slowly, the sound of his own heartbeat subsided and he could hear again— the sizzling of the lava all around him, the distant cries of ghasts, the too-close grunting of more zombie piglins, the chatter of his team above him.
"Mini!" He yelled up to his friend, almost laughing, "I think that might be the coolest thing I've ever done!"
Mini's head appeared over the edge of the shoddy bridge they'd made so long ago, a warped yellow silhouette all that could be made out through the heat. "Yeah?" His friend yelled back down to him, before chucking down some cobblestone.
The cobblestone was cold to the touch, compared to the lava he'd bathed in and the fire that covered half of the little island he stood on. It was a relief, a reminder that he was there and Mini was there and his team was, against all odds, still there. He towered up as fast as he could, regretting the not-quite waste of the materials. Cobblestone was easy to get, he reminded himself, and he didn't want to go anywhere near the zombie piglins ever again.
Obviously that wouldn't last, he'd have to return to the nether eventually, but that day wouldn't come for a while. A long, long while if he had anything to say about it. As soon as he was near, Mini grasped his arm and pulled him up onto the bridge, and Brock couldn't bring himself to care that the other team was there too.
"Dude. I can't believe you actually survived that, that was crazy!" Rek grinned at him while pulling a potion out. Brock caught it easily, the shakes finally gone now that he was back with his group. Safety in numbers was real as far as he was concerned, and really, if he died he at least wanted to die with people around him, as much as it would probably hurt them. At least then they'd know it was him and would get his items, and he'd get to spend his last moments with the people he cared about.
That wouldn't be happening any time soon, either. He was playing it safe after that clutch of the century.
Red team left, and his team continued their journey. They stopped at the daisy farm for what may be the last time, and Brock watched as the rest of them left him behind to prepare. He trusted them to do that.
"What are we doing?" Mini asked, turning the farm off.
Brock pulled out a stack of cobblestone, the still-warm rocks bring him no comfort. "This was Crafty's work, he deserves to be buried near it." They didn't have his body. The nether was too warm for anything to remain for long, even dead things.
He should've gone with Crafty.
Both he and Mini placed a single oxeye daisy on the grave before they left, a final tribute. There was no chest, no items to put in it, so they had to make do with what they had, and all they had were flowers. That was Crafty's legacy.
Their trek through the nether was oddly silent, not even interrupted by a ghast's wail. The rest of Blue Team had probably cleared it out for them, or maybe the Gamemaster had decided to let them be. Brock almost laughed at the thought.
Stepping through the nether portal back into their main base was like a breath of fresh air. Technically it was also a literal breath of fresh air, considering how much nicer the overworld's air was to breathe in, but he found the familiarity more important. The original tower still stood, a reminder of how it all started, but everything around it had changed.
Clown's house looked finished. If only Crafty were there to see it.
"Clown!" Mini called, waving in the direction of the building, "are you done?"
Clown dropped off the roof, and the splash of water seemed to echo across the world. It was an unnecessary risk, but if Clown was good at anything, it was those. "Not on the inside," he replied, "but it's time for the End. Took you long enough."
"We built a grave," Mini shoved Clown slightly, and Brock really wished he would stop doing things like that. They'd already lost enough.
The way to the Stronghold felt off. There was nothing wrong with it per se, he was with his friends— at least those that remained— and the journey really wasn't that bad. Everyone was excited, but he just couldn't be.
It was almost time for the merge. The jungle was much, much too hot.
He removed the lava in the portal room as soon as he could.
"This'll be my first time getting an elytra!" Mini commented, circling the unlit portal.
Despite his looming dread, Brock grinned at his remaining teammate. He was happy for Mini, he just wished Crafty were able to be there for it too.
"We should probably get pumpkins," someone said, but Brock couldn't quite make out who.
Someone tapped his shoulder, and he looked to his right. Taneesha stared at him, a concerned look in her eyes. He gave her a thumbs up, and watched the group head out.
"Brock," Mini turned around at the door, "are you not coming?"
He shook his head. "Nah, I'll stick with the portal. Make sure we actually get in in time."
"Alright, seeya."
Brock watched his friend disappear after the others, then turned to the chests they'd dumped down. It was all remnants from their mine down into the stronghold, but he was sure he could make the place look a bit better anyway.
His watch ticked down much faster when he was alone, he found.
A BANG rang out, and he took a half-heart of damage when he fell off his pillar. As he chugged a stew, he wondered who they'd lost this time. Maybe it was another Red, that he wouldn't mind as much. He liked them, but they weren't his team.
Then he heard the screams, and he ran out as fast as he could. Taneesha was in the brush, eyes wide, and she was alive. There was some blood on her, but as far as he could tell, it wasn't hers.
There was more on the burnt bushes in front of her.
There was Mini, in the center, and Brock could barely feel his hearts. He wasn't sure if he even had any left. Maybe he had died back in the nether, and this was some kind of bad dream. Something brought upon him by the Gamemaster.
"Brock!" Rek's face appeared in front of his, and he felt an arm tugging at him. "We have to go, the portal's opening up— take this." He shoved a crudely carved pumpkin into Brock's hands. It would be hard to see through.
He wasn't sure if he deserved even that. They were there for him, but he was never there for them. It wasn't fair, though, to make them suffer through the same with him.
The pumpkin barely fit on his head, and he wore it anyway.