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You have chosen: Choice A

Final Votes:
98 votes for Choice A
19 votes for Choice B

thank you for all the birthday wishes! love y'all <3

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Quackity muttered another few profanities in Spanish, groaning in pain.

"Okay, okay," You spoke in a, hopefully, soothing tone. "Listen, you can walk, right? The fortress is just around the corner, I think. We'll get you some Nether wart and...see if I can't whip up a healing potion. Can you hang on a few more hours?"

Quackity sucked in a breath through his teeth and nodded. "Can...can we wrap this thing up, though?" He asked, "I...I really don't like looking at it," He glanced down at his hand, grimaced, and looked away. "I really don't."

You couldn't help but agree. His hand was charred, and the flesh was begging to peel off the bone.

You swallowed the bile that had risen in your throat. The two of you needed to get moving. Fast.

You ripped some of the excess fabric from your brother's shirt hanging out from under the armor - he'd just have to deal with it - and wrapped it carefully around the wound, much to Quackity's pain.

The tunnels weren't too hard to navigate, luckily. Quackity hung off your shoulder, trying to keep from complaining too much. You were doing the best you could to help him; the last thing you needed was him complaining about how much pain he was in.

You were grateful for it.

You helped Quackity up the makeshift stairs, going out of the manmade cavern first to make sure no hostile mobs were around. Luckily, in the Crimson Forest, there weren't many mobs, just the occasional enderman.

You made sure to avoid eye contact with one of the stray beings, gesturing for Quackity to follow up behind you. "Keep your eyesight low, just in case," You warned.

Quackity nodded and climbed the rest of the staircase, careful to keep his eyes on the ground. His hand was throbbing in pain, and he gritted his teeth in an effort to ignore it.

You took Quackity's good hand, leading him through the tangled blue vines of the forest. You had a general idea of where you were going...but a lot of your journey was hindered by hope.

Jordan had brought you here a few times, but only a few. He was very insistent that the Nether was a very dangerous place, and he refused to take you often. 

There was once where Jordan had come home from the Nether, hand as black as obsidian. The skin was peeling off the bone, and black tendrils had begun creeping up his arm. The rest of his complexion was frighteningly pale, and he was swaying where he stood.

You'd immediately shoved a healing potion into his hands. He'd explained he'd blocked a Wither Skeleton attack with his hand, and that's when you'd insisted that he was not going alone the next time.

You'd remembered landmarks here and there, what landmarks you could, and did your best to follow them.

Soon enough, the dark shape of the Fortress rose up in the distance and you breathed a sigh of relief. The next challenge was to find a specific room where the Nether Warts were growing, harvest them, and get out without encountering too many dangerous mobs.

Easy.

Slowly and carefully, you made your way into the dark Fortress. 

It took about half an hour to find what you needed, give or take a bit longer to fight off some mobs, but you eventually made it to the staircase where the Nether Wart grew. 

𝑼𝑵𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑫 𝑺𝒀𝑴𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑵𝒀Where stories live. Discover now