Warnings: Character death, blood

~Rob's P.O.V.~

     Cold, wet, merciless darkness envelops me, chilling me to my bone and clouding my vision. The darkness swishes slowly by, and as I'm pulled through the darkness, I suddenly notice the vicelike grip tightening over my lungs. I squirm, blindly struggling for something to relieve the pain, when the darkness stops moving. Something hard and smooth is brought to my lips and without a second thought I drink, my lungs instantly sighing in relief. A second bottle is raised to my lips and I gulp down its content, blinking rapidly as the darkness recedes. Gradually a dark figure takes shape before me, which quickly clears into a watery image of Lachlan, one arm supporting my back and the other holding an empty bottle. Nearby Mitch is following Lachlan's example and pouring potions down Jerome's throat, who is still out cold.

The memories of our fight flood back into my mind. Lachlan pulls me along and although still low on energy, I do my best to groggily kick with him. It makes sense I woke up so soon, as it was only the sudden deprivation of a massive amount on energy that knocked me out. Jerome, however, will take a bit longer to come too. I rub my eyes, glancing back to the sponge monument in the distance.

"Did we... win?"

Lachlan nods his head, revealing the lapis blue key with a gold gemstone in the middle. Relief floods through me now that I know my efforts weren't for nothing. Dragged down by Jerome and I, the four of us are barely halfway to the surface. Nibbling on a piece of soggy bread, I sigh and prepare for a painstakingly long swim to an even colder biome. There's no rest for the weary I suppose.

~~~

As we break the surface of the water and expose ourselves to the freezing air of the snowy beach I groan, dragging myself onto the coarse sand and shedding my dented diamond armour, shivering in relief. Lachlan crawls onto land beside me, panting heavily and flopping onto his back, one hand plastered over his eyes. Next comes Mitch, dragging Jerome by his arms from the watery abyss, his wings drooping tiredly behind him. The sky, being blocked out by a swirling mass of grey clouds, casts darkness over the land. Mitch's luminous wings and the flicker torchlight from our makeshift hut being the only sources of light to to cut back the tendrils of night.

"We made it..." Mitch breathes, plopping down on the sand and kicking off his armour. "We really made it."

       A satisfying sensation of accomplishment washes over me and despite my pain, I smile. Three down, one to go. I note, casting a very minimal healing spell to patch up some of our minor wounds. Lachlan and Mitch look on gratefully as a pink glow erupts from their scratches and cuts, then watching as the blood falls away and new skin seals the wounds. Lachlan rolls to his stomach and pushes himself up, however when rising he immediately shouts in pain, his knees buckling and falling back to the sand. His eyes screw shut and he grips his leg as blood gushes out.

      "Ohhhh man I forgot that stupid spike impaled my freaking leg." He moans, sitting back down.
      "When I get back my strength I'll heal us all properly." I vow, rising slowly to my feet. "For now just wrap up your wounds and hang on tight."
        Mitch nods in acknowledgement, hooking his arms under Jerome's. "No ones asking you to push yourself, Rob. Don't worry about it. Now I'm gonna get Jerome here inside the hut before he turns into a bacca sized ice cube. Preston can help us all warm up."

        Jerome mumbles in his sleep, on the verge of consciousness. As Mitch drags Jerome, who is slowly but surely coming to, back to the hut, Lachlan shuffles over holding out the key. I nod in thanks, gingerly plucking the brilliant blue key from his hand. Taking a moment to appreciate its value, I stash it away with the other two. Pulling out a piece of bread I tear it in half, handing a portion of it to Lachlan. He accepts it with a smile and we sit there for a moment in the darkness, chewing in silence. As I gaze out across the serene snowy biome, so still and quiet, everything seems peaceful, if for only a moment. The crunch of snow splits the silence and Lachlan and I turn to see Mitch approaching, his face paler than the snow. His eyes are wide and uncomprehending, his hands covered with bright red blood as he cradles a bloodstained furry mound in his arms. Lachlan shoots to his feet despite his injury and the world seems to freeze as I stare at Silver, dead in Mitch's arms.

"Mitch," I murmur, forcing down the lump in my throat. Our eyes meet. "Where's Preston?"
"And Vikk?" Lachlan pitches in, hands trembling.

Mitch shakes his head numbly, eyes watering. Panic shoots through my veins and my brows furrow, confusion and fear flooding my brain.

"Where is he?!" I demand, taking an involuntary step forward.
"That's easy."

The three of us whirl around to see Jerome leaning heavily in the doorway, dreary eyed and dull. He grips his axe loosely in one hand, taking a moment to smack his dry lips together and collect himself. Eyes darkening he sniffs, nodding his head to the side.

"Just follow the trail of blood."

~~~

After digging a grave for Silver and putting the faithful wolf to rest we gathered our belongings and immediately set out, pushing aide our exhaustion and pain in an effort to find Preston and Vikk as soon as possible. Our breaths puff out in misty white clouds as the bitter cold sweeps into our skin. In the darkness, with only the light of Mitch's wings to lead the way, Jerome's foot catches against an icy rock and he stumbles forward. Lachlan snaps out an arm to catch the exhausted bacca and steadies him to which Jerome smiles weakly in gratitude. I grin seeing the two have made amends and then immediate regret it as my lips split open and metallic blood spreads over my tongue.

      As we traverse around a ravine, a gust of wind rushes over the crest of a hill on the other side of the gaping ravine. The wind grabs at our clothing and I duck my head to it, hugging myself tightly as an eerie howl fills the darkness. As the wail fades away Jerome freezes, ears perking up. His eyes narrow as he squints towards the hill.

        "Do you hear that?" He whispers, a hand reaching for his axe.
         Mitch stops dead in his tracks, cheeks rosy and nose dripping. "Hear what?"
        "Listen."

         The four of us stand stiller than statues, and I shallow my breathing, straining to hear whatever it is Jerome might be picked up on. Five seconds pass. Ten. Thirty. I open my mouth to speak when suddenly another breath of wind sails by, and this time I manage to pick up on the faint cry of mobs riding on the wind. A lot of mobs. Wearily I draw a chipped iron sword from my inventory, too tired to even entertain the thought of magic. Lachlan and Jerome follow suit, Mitch pulling out a bow and notching an arrow. He spreads his wings and lifts himself gingerly into the air, turning to face the hill.

       "I'm going to go scout it out. If I'm not back in five minutes," He trails off, flapping in a slow circle around us, "come looking."

         With that Mitch sails off, taking the light with him, until the glow of his wings disappears behind the hill plunging us into a void of black. Startled at my sudden blindness I quickly pull out a torch, placing it on the ground to shed some light on the situation. Taking a seat and huddling as close as I can to the torch without burning myself I run a shaky finger along the edge of my blade, staring trance like into the dancing flame in front of me. Jerome stalks over to a lonely spruce tree and leans against it, tossing his axe from hand to hand tensely, his jaw set and eyes looking nowhere but the ground. Alternatively Lachlan turns his back it the torch and stares exclusively at the hill, eyeing the spot where Mitch disappeared with fearful eyes and tapping his foot impatiently.

Seconds tick by agonizingly slow, and my stomach sinks deeper and deeper as minutes seem to stretch by into hours. Accidentally sliding my finger along my blade with a bit too much pressure, I wince and jerk my hand away, licking off the beads of blood dripping down my finger. Suddenly, Jerome stands upright and spins Betty around in his paw.

        "Its been way too long, let's go."

        As we slowly crawl our way up the hill, Jerome leading the way, the chorus of mob voices grows increasingly louder. As we crest the hill, weapons drawn, my stomach hits the floor and I nearly drop my sword.

       Standing in a large semi circle around a deep pool of water must be two and a half hundred overworld mobs. Zombies, spiders, creepers, skeletons, strays, pillagers, Illagers, witches, phantoms, and endermen stand unnervingly still in scattered rows, all their eyes trained directly on us. A handful of phantoms circle overhead, swooping and gliding on the bitter wind, their green eyes piercing the night. Off to one side is a red and black lump, his bright wings sprawled out to either side and a bloody red bump decorates his temple. Grey blue particles rise off Mitch's body from a strays slowness arrow, protruding from just under his shoulder blade. To the left of the pool is the only present evoker, one hand gripping the back of Vikks head, who stands motionless beside him, still bleeding heavily from his lung. It's a miracle he's still standing. His other hand is outstretched towards Preston, who dangles mid air above the water, grasping at his neck loosely with bright orange tears streaming down his face. His coal black eyes lock with mine, and the fear there is enough to terrify both of us.

        "Let him go!" Lachlan demands, leaping forward.
         "Ah, ah, ah." The evoker smirks, shaking his head slowly, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The evoker squeezes Vikk and in response Vikk growls out a command. A cluster of spiders and strays advance on Lachlan, who slows down in uncertainty. Directed by an intelligent mind, the mobs are easily able to overcome Lachlan, who is still completely exhausted and in no position to fight. A barrage of slowness arrows rain down on the prince, and Lachlan is able to bend around most of them however one just nicks his neck, and leaves a thin trail of blood trickling down his throat. Instantly blue grey particles rise from his body and his movements are slowed down exponentially.

"Besides..." the evoker continues, watching comfortable as the spiders spin webs over Lachlan, binding him into a tight cocoon. He glances at Preston, "we wouldn't want anything bad happening to your friend," his eyes meet mine, "now would we?"

Jerome roars in anger and stops forward, eyes ablaze wit fury. The evoker simply nudges Vikk and a second wave of mobs advance. Jerome manages to bulldoze his was through a few, however I watch on in despair, knowing there's no way his energy would have been restored yet. Soon enough Jerome is overwhelmed, and is knocked out as a phantom dive bombs into his gut, causing Jerome to fall to the ground and smash his head off a rock. Lachlan gasps for help as a spider pulls on a string collar tied around his throat. In just a few seconds his eyes roll back and his head falls limply to the side. My heart pounds like a drum in my chest and I clutch my pathetic iron sword tightly, taking a reluctant step back. I can't stop him. I stare desperately at Preston, still hanging helplessly above a watery grave. Maybe I can negotiate?

"Wh-what do you.. do you want?" I stammer, curing at myself for letting my nervousness show.

The evoker grins widely and suddenly the wind picks up as his eyes brighten and fill out into a brilliant white. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead as I lock eyes with Herobrine, using this pesky evoker as a vessel.

"The keys." He replies.

I bite my lip, the gears in my brain spinning a million miles a minute as the simple yet priceless demand registers. I look to Preston who's eyes are like discs, doing his best to shake his head no. A momentary spark of defiance rises in me but vanishes in an instant as I behold the small of army of mobs, my friends all unconscious in the snow, the water churning restlessly under Preston, and the piercing white eyes of Herobrine. Slowly, unwillingly, I begin to produce the keys.

"D... don't... do..." Preston manages to choke out, gasping for air.
"SIleNce!"

With a crash the gates of the sky open up, sending down a sudden brine, the drops of water moving so fast they don't even have time to turn into snow. The screams of Preston rise above even the thunder as his skin sizzles, small patches of stone peppering him. In an instant I drop to the ground, shoving a hand into the snow and throwing up a protective shield over Preston. My vision doubles as the little energy I had regained leaves in an instant, leaving me helpless on the ground. I can't talk. Can't move. I feel my very life being sapped away as the world spins, urging myself to keep the forcefield up.

"The keys." Herobrine repeats calmly.
"Fine..." I gasp, hanging my head low. "Just please... spare us. Spare Preston."
"Yo-you're a coward." Preston sobs, grasping at his neck.
The evoker eyes snap towards him, and my stomach drops for the hundredth time tonight. "What."
"You're just scare-red," Preston pushes, finding strength to squeeze out a few bold words, "That's why... that's why you're not here in the flesh. Just in the body of... the body o-of an evoker. You're scared of-"

The evoker waves his hand and Preston drops, smashing through the forcefield, and into the water below. Lightning fills the night as a great wave of water and steam rises into the air, the warm glow of Preston's skin disappearing instantly beneath the surface.

"NO!"

I collapse to the ground, unable to do anything but watch as Herobrine cackles, rubbing his hands together in glee. However in doing so, he accidentally neglected the fact Vikk is now released from his telepathic hold. He moans in anger and pain, falling to his knees and pointing at the evoker.

As darkness slowly sloughs my vision, the last few things I observe is the bloody pieces of a robe tainting the snow as a creeper detonates, witches tending to Vikks punctured lung,

...and the rigid stone body of Preston being pulled from the water by an Illager, his items floating to the surface of the puddle behind him.

~~~
At the beginning, who did you expect to die? How did that view change as the chapter progressed?