Banished: Resistance is Futile

[27]

Pitter patter...

Plip, plop, plip...

Patter pitter...

Xisuma stared out the window, eyes blank, face blank, emotions gone.

The sound of a ticking clock felt distant as he lost himself in his mind.

It was all his fault. He could have stopped it if he-

If he what?

What could he have done? Helsknight had changed; he was strong, more ambitious. There was something else.

There was something else at work. Perhaps, even someone else.

But Xisuma couldn't do anything about it.

Well, he could, but was it worth it? The server was stuck in hardcore, countless Hermits were dead.

All thanks to Helsknight.

Xisuma had to do something, but what could he do?

...pitter...

The rain fell down outside relentlessly, mourning for those that had passed. Or maybe it was in mockery of the admin that failed his server.

Tick tock.

The cold body of Keralis sat unmoving in the corner, and Xisuma couldn't look.

He was a murderer. A backstabber.

He didn't deserve to be admin. He didn't deserve them.

Xisuma looked down at the bloody sword that rested on the floor.

Did he even deserve to be happy? To laugh? To live?

...No, he shouldn't think like that. He needed to at least try.

He had to... he had to rescue Wels. He needed to. Even if he died trying.

And for the first time that day, Xisuma had a plan.

^*^

The rain didn't want to let up and the mud dared to stop his march, but Xisuma found a new determination as he trudged through the jungle and back to his base. The urge in his gut to keep moving forward resonated throughout his entire body, his legs on autopilot.

X's thoughts raced, yet were blank at the same time. He felt numb, but every drop of rain on his arms felt like shards of glass.

The battle in his mind was tiring, the thoughts of quitting and turning himself in to the evil knight were becoming more and more desirable.

But he couldn't give up. He had to save his friends.

If they even were his friends anymore.

Xisuma shuddered as a wave of nausea wracked his body. His eyes traced the crack that spread down the center of the visor, allowing the smallest leaks of air to poison his blood.

Every inhale felt like drowning, and his fuzzy body did nothing to help the pain.

He needed a new helmet, but the helmet was at his base, a very long walk away. But he needed the helmet to find his friends, and he needed his friends to save the world.

What a great start to the day.

^*^

Oh.

He didn't have an elytra.

Sighing, Xisuma continued his painful walk, occasionally slipping on the emergency stairs that wrapped around his main tower.

He couldn't care less about the spots that slowly crept across his vision.