Chapter Text
The afternoon in Lostivia Kingdom was bright in a way that felt almost unfamiliar, like the world had been washed clean and left under sunlight too long. The streets in the city center were busy as always—boots on stone, wheels rattling over uneven ground, voices overlapping in a steady mess of daily life.
And then, right in the middle of it—Wemmbu appeared.
No sound. No warning. Just a sudden distortion in the air, like something had been dropped into the world that didn’t quite belong to it. A few nearby people glanced over, but no one really stopped. Strange things happened often enough in traveling cities that curiosity didn’t always win over errands.
Wemmbu stood completely still.
For a moment, he didn’t even move his head.Just took everything in at once.The buildings, the crowd, and the movement.Then, slowly, his eyes lifted to the sky.
It wasn’t what he expected.
In the End, there was nothing like this. No color shifting through the day. No clouds drifting like slow thoughts. Just empty darkness stretching in every direction without change.
Here, the sky looked… active. Like it was part of the world instead of something beyond it.
Wemmbu stared at it a little too long.
“…So this is the Overworld,” he muttered, like he was confirming something he’d only half believed before arriving.
Someone bumped into his shoulder hard enough to jolt him slightly.
“Move out of the way,” the man said without even looking at him.
Then he was gone into the crowd.
Wemmbu watched him go.
“…Rude,” he said under his breath, not really offended—just noting it.
He started walking.
Not with direction. More like letting the movement of the city carry him forward. The streets eventually widened into a central square, and the sound changed before he even saw it clearly.
Music,Drums, voices, and chanting.
A crowd had formed.
Wemmbu slowed, then pushed through until he reached a spot near the front.
What he saw was a festival—though it didn’t feel like anything ceremonial or grand from where he stood. It felt more like something people just… did. A shared moment.
Dancers moved across the stone ground in coordinated steps, boots striking in rhythm. Musicians played from wooden platforms, cheeks puffed, hands moving fast over instruments. The crowd responded in waves of sound and movement.
Then came the chant.
“All praise to His Highness!
Long live His Highness, the Crown Prince of the Earl Kingdom!
Glory and honor, rise and sing—
Long live the Prince, our future King!”
It rolled through the square like it had been practiced for a long time.
Wemmbu didn’t join in.He just watched.
The people around him reacted in different ways—some shouting along, others smiling quietly, a few just nodding . An older man near him even tapped his foot along with the rhythm.
Wemmbu’s attention shifted slightly.
He leaned toward the man beside him, careful not to raise his voice too much over the noise.
“What is this for?”
The man glanced at him, then back at the crowd. “Crown prince from the Earl Kingdom,” he said. “Coming of age. They’re celebrating across all the kingdoms.”
Wemmbu repeated it in his head.
Earl Kingdom.
“Where is that?” he asked.
“West,” the man replied simply. “Across the sea.”
That word caught him more than the rest.
Sea.
Wemmbu frowned slightly.
“…Across water?”
The man gave him a sideways look. “Yes. Ocean.”
A nearby fisherman laughed at that, tightening the rope coiled over his shoulder. “You say it like you’ve never seen it before.”
Wemmbu answered honestly. “I haven’t.”
That got a few glances, but no real surprise. Just mild curiosity.
The fisherman shrugged. “It’s just water. Big stretches of it. You sail it if you know how, you fish in it if you’re lucky. That’s all.”
Wemmbu looked down slightly, thinking.
“…It doesn’t harm you?”
The fisherman blinked. “Why would it?”
Wemmbu didn’t answer right away.
In his experience, most things that vast weren’t harmless.
The baker beside them snorted softly, dusting flour from his hands. “Strange question.”
Wemmbu hesitated, then added, “Where I come from… water isn’t something you stand in.”
That made the fisherman pause for a second.
Then he laughed again, but not unkindly this time. “Well, you’re standing in Lostivia now. You’ll get used to it.”
Wemmbu didn’t respond to that.
His attention drifted back toward the square.
The chanting continued. The celebration didn’t slow. People raised their voices like it mattered deeply to them—this prince, this kingdom far away.
Then, almost casually, Wemmbu said, “Do Endermen live here?”
The change in tone around him was immediate.
The fisherman frowned. “Endermen? Those are monsters.”
Wemmbu’s head tilted slightly.
“…Monsters?”
The baker shook his head. “They don’t belong in cities. They wander, destroy land, disappear when you look at them. Dangerous things.”
Wemmbu stared at him for a moment.
Not arguing.Just listening.
Then quietly—
“That’s not how they are.”
The words didn’t come out loud enough to challenge anyone. More like something he said to himself.
The baker gave a tired sigh. “Look, if you’re new here, just don’t go talking about them like they’re people. People here won’t like that.”
Wemmbu didn’t reply.
He looked once more at the festival—the cheering, the movement, the pride in voices that didn’t hesitate.
Then he turned away from the square.
______________________________________________
Wemmbu spent the rest of the day wandering through Lostivia.
At first, he walked with no destination in mind, simply letting the city unfold before him.
Markets were still busy, merchants calling out prices with voices rough from years of doing the same thing. Blacksmiths worked near the outer streets, sparks flying as iron met iron. Children ran through narrow roads with wooden swords, pretending to be knights or heroes from old stories.
Everything felt strange.
And yet, strangely alive.
He watched people argue over bread prices like it was a matter of war. He watched old men play games near fountains, accusing each other of cheating with far too much passion. He watched a little girl cry because her balloon had flown away, only for her mother to promise her sweet berries later.
Such small things.
Things the End never had.
There were no festivals there. No markets. No children laughing.
Only silence.
By the time he noticed it, the sky had begun to darken.
The golden afternoon faded into deep orange, then violet, until night slowly took the kingdom for itself. One by one, lanterns were lit across the streets. Warm lights glowed from windows, hanging lamps, and shop signs, turning the city into something softer.
Even at night, Lostivia didn’t sleep.
It simply became quieter.
Wemmbu kept walking.
At some point, without realizing it, he found himself in a narrower part of the city. The streets were tighter here, the buildings closer together, their shadows stretching longer between the walls.
He frowned slightly.
“…I may be lost.”
Before he could turn back, voices caught his attention.
Further ahead, three men had cornered someone.
A young man, dressed in a white cloak that stood out far too much in a place like this. He was pressed against the wall while the three surrounded him like wolves circling prey.
Wemmbu watched for a moment.
It wasn’t his problem.
He could walk away.
Then one of them shoved the cloaked man hard against the stone wall.
Wemmbu sighed.
“…Right. Of course.”
He stepped forward.
“Excuse me,” he called, voice calm enough to sound almost polite. “Why are three of you harassing one person? Feels a little unfair.”
The men turned.
Their surprise quickly turned into annoyance.
One of them stepped forward. “And who asked you to interfere?”
Wemmbu tilted his head slightly.
“No one. But I did anyway.”
Another man scoffed. “Then mind your own business before you regret it.”
“Well,” Wemmbu replied, “it really isn’t my business. But hurting someone for no reason is annoying to watch.”
That seemed to be enough.
The third man, clearly the least patient, pulled a dagger from his belt and pressed the blade near Wemmbu’s neck.
The alley went still.
“You talk too much,” the man growled. “Maybe you should join him against the wall.”
The other two laughed.
Wemmbu didn’t even blink.
He simply stared at the man holding the dagger.
Annoyed.
More than threatened.
Then, in one smooth motion, he grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted.
A sharp crack echoed.
The man screamed.
“My arm—!”
Before he could finish, Wemmbu drove his fist straight into his face.
The man dropped instantly.
Silence.
The other two stared at their unconscious friend.
Then at Wemmbu.
Then wisely chose survival.
They ran.
Leaving their fallen companion behind without a second thought.
Wemmbu dusted off his sleeve.
“Cowards."
He turned toward the man in white.
The stranger had been watching the entire thing unfold without much reaction, which honestly felt stranger than the fight itself.
Wemmbu raised an eyebrow.
“Are you alright?”
The man finally looked at him properly.
His voice was soft, calm.
“Thank you for saving me. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Wemmbu crossed his arms.
“Though honestly, why are you here? You look like someone who should be anywhere but an alley.”
The man gave the faintest smile.
“I should be asking you the same thing.”
A pause.
“Why are you here, Wemmbu?”
Everything in Wemmbu froze.
His expression cracked for the first time all day.
He took a step back.
“…How do you know my name?”
The stranger stepped forward slowly, his gaze steady.
“You’re not supposed to be here. Wasn’t the guardian meant to watch over you? Then why are you wandering the Overworld alone?”
Wemmbu’s mind raced.
“How do you know that? Who are you?”
The man’s voice lowered.
“Of course I know you. You are the last successor. The final child of her blood.”
His eyes didn’t leave Wemmbu’s.
“The last End Dragon.”
Wemmbu felt his heartbeat stutter.
No one here should know that.
No one.
“Who… are you?”
Slowly, the man reached up and lowered his hood.
White hair fell like silk under moonlight, soft and almost glowing beneath the lantern light. His skin was pale, his eyes clear blue like open sky.
Strange feathered wings framed near his ears like part of his very being.
Beautiful.
And deeply unsettling.
The man gave a small bow.
“My name is Eggchan. Guardian of the End.”
He straightened.
“…Though calling me an angel would be simpler.”
Wemmbu stared.
For a full five seconds.
Then he spoke—
“I understood almost none of that,” he admitted.“But it sounded cool.” he added.
Eggchan blinked.
Then sighed.
“Yes. You are definitely her successor.”
He folded his arms.
“Why are you here?”
Wemmbu groaned. “Because I was bored. Do you expect me to stay in the End forever and slowly lose my mind?”
“You are supposed to be its guardian,” Eggchan replied. “Its representative. Its dragon.”
“And I’m also a person,” Wemmbu shot back.
“Not some statue people point at and say, ‘protect this forever.’”
Eggchan’s expression softened slightly.
“I understand that. But you must also understand this world. If people discover there is a dragon walking through kingdoms wearing a cloak and asking strange questions about water, problems will follow.”
“…That specific?”
“Very specific.”
Wemmbu looked away.
“…Fair.”
Eggchan continued, “You are not prepared yet. I should escort you back to the portal.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Eggchan raised an eyebrow.
Wemmbu stood straighter.
“No. I just got here. Let me explore the Overworld first. Just a little.”
Eggchan stared at him for a long moment.
Long enough to be dramatic on purpose.
Then he sighed.
“Fine.”
Wemmbu brightened slightly.
“But,” Eggchan added, raising one finger, “only one kingdom. And not Lostivia.”
That immediately killed the excitement.
“…Why not this kingdom?”
Eggchan hesitated.
His usual calm shifted.
“…Because Lostivia is not what it seems.”
That answer only made Wemmbu more suspicious.
But Eggchan continued before he could ask more.
“It doesn’t matter right now. Choose somewhere else.”
Wemmbu thought for a moment.
Then—
“The west.”
“The west?”
“The Earl Kingdom,” Wemmbu said. “I want to see this ocean everyone keeps talking about.”
Eggchan stared at him.
“Why?”
Wemmbu shrugged.
“I’ve never seen it. My whole life has been floating islands and endless void. If there’s an entire world made of water, I’d like to know if people were exaggerating.”
Eggchan nodded slowly.
Then placed a hand dramatically over his chest.
“Very well. At dawn, we shall embark upon our sacred journey to the western seas.”
Wemmbu stared.
“…Why are you saying it like that?”
Eggchan looked offended.
“To gain aura, of course.”
A long silence.
Then Wemmbu rubbed his face.
“Bro…”
______________________________________________
They rested through the night.
For the first time in a long while, Wemmbu slept somewhere that wasn’t surrounded by silence.
There were sounds even in the dark—distant footsteps outside, people talking in nearby rooms, the creaking of old wood as the inn settled with the night. Strange sounds.
When morning finally came, sunlight slipped through the window in thin golden lines, cutting across the room like blades of light. Somewhere downstairs, someone was already yelling about breakfast.
Eggchan was awake first, of course.
Because apparently angels enjoyed being responsible.
“Get up,” he said, standing near the door with his arms crossed. “The sun has risen. Destiny awaits.”
Wemmbu groaned into his pillow.
“Tell destiny to wait five more minutes.”
“It already waited several centuries.”
“Then it can wait five more.”
Eggchan threw a folded cloth at his face.
“Move.”
A few moments later, they were walking through Lostivia’s streets again, heading toward the western gate.
Morning made the city feel different. Merchants were setting up their stalls, guards were changing shifts, and the smell of fresh bread from the bakeries somehow made the entire place feel more alive.
Eventually, they reached it.
The western gate.
Massive stone walls stretched high above them, with iron-reinforced wooden gates large enough for caravans and mounted guards to pass through side by side.
Wemmbu stopped and stared.
“…That is a big-ass gate.”
Eggchan nodded seriously.
“Yes. A truly gigantic ass gate.”
Wemmbu looked at him.
“Bro.”
“I was matching your energy.”
Before Wemmbu could respond, Eggchan lowered his voice.
“We should be careful. Less attention, less problems.”
They moved with the crowd leaving the city—farmers with carts, merchants with horses,
travelers carrying packs on their backs. A few shoulders bumped into them as they passed through the gate.
Wemmbu wrinkled his nose.
“Bro… they all stink.”
Eggchan immediately elbowed him.
“Shhh! People can hear you!”
“Bro, I’m just being honest.”
“You are being loud and honest. Dangerous combination.”
They continued west.
The roads stretched wide across the plains, dirt paths cutting through open grasslands where the wind moved like waves. Cows grazed lazily in fenced fields. Horses pulled wagons in the distance.
It was peaceful.
Too peaceful, maybe.
Then, after hours of travel, the land began to change.
There were flowers everywhere.
Fields stretched so far they looked like they had stolen pieces of the sky and planted them into the earth—reds, blues, yellows, white blossoms dancing under the breeze.
The Floralia Land. (Aka flower forest)
Wemmbu stopped walking.
For once, he had absolutely nothing sarcastic to say.
“…Whoa.”
He dashed to the field.
Straight into the flower fields like a child who had just discovered joy for the first time.
“Wemmbu!” Eggchan shouted behind him.“Don’t run too far! Wait for me!”
But Wemmbu was already gone, laughing as he pushed through the flowers.
“BRO, LOOK AT THIS!”
He dropped to his knees, immediately plucking flowers with zero hesitation.
“This place is amazing!”
By the time Eggchan reached him, he was slightly out of breath and deeply regretting having wings that were currently hidden.
“Bro…” Eggchan said between breaths. “Why… do you run… like a criminal escaping taxes…”
Wemmbu turned dramatically and shoved a handful of flowers toward his face.
“Smell this.”
Eggchan blinked.
Then obediently took one and smelled it.
A pause.
“…Okay. That actually smells wonderful.”
“I told you, bro.”
Wemmbu had already moved on, collecting more like some kind of overly enthusiastic bee.
For hours, they walked through Floralia.
Sometimes talking. Sometimes just enjoying the quiet.
Wemmbu kept stopping every few steps to point at something like he had personally discovered flowers as a concept.
Eggchan laughed at him for it.
Wemmbu laughed harder when Eggchan tripped over a patch of tulips and blamed “uneven spiritual terrain.”
By late afternoon, the sun had begun to sink.
The golden light softened.
Eggchan finally looked up and frowned.
“Bro. We actually need to move.”
Wemmbu was lying dramatically in the flowers.
“Bro… why don’t we just live here forever?”
“Because monsters exist.”
Wemmbu sat up.
“About Endermen?”
Eggchan sighed.
“No. Not everything is about Endermen.
Zombies. Skeletons. Spiders. Creepers. The usual night shift.”
Wemmbu shrugged.
“So? We kill them.”
Eggchan stared at him.
“Bro… let’s try using logic before violence for once.”
Wemmbu opened his mouth and closed it.
Thought about it.
“…Fine. But only because I’m choosing maturity today.”
“That would be your first recorded case.”
They kept moving until the flowers thinned and signs of civilization returned.
A village.
Simple wooden houses. Lanterns hanging by doorways. Farms stretching nearby. Smoke rising from chimneys.
As they entered, Wemmbu noticed something.
There were a lot of travelers here.
Merchants, wandering adventurers, villagers moving through with goods and animals. It made the place feel alive in a quieter way than Lostivia.
Eventually, after asking around and with Eggchan doing most of the “please be normal” talking, they found a small inn to stay the night.
The second Wemmbu entered the room, he threw himself face-first onto the bed.
“I’m so tired…”
His voice came muffled through the pillow like a dying warrior making his final speech.
Eggchan set down their things.
“I’ll go find us something to eat.”
Wemmbu gave a lazy thumbs-up without moving.
“Bring food. I no longer have the strength to be alive.”
Eggchan walked toward the door, then paused.
“…Try not to destroy anything while I’m gone.”
“No promises.”
The door closed behind him.
Silence settled into the room.
Wemmbu rolled over, staring up at the wooden ceiling above him.
For the first time since arriving, things felt… still.
His thoughts drifted.
“…Minute is probably worried right now.”
He stared quietly for a moment and then sighed.
“…Eh. He’ll survive.”
______________________________________________
When Eggchan finally returned to the room, Wemmbu was already asleep.
Face buried halfway into the pillow, one arm hanging off the bed like he had collapsed mid-thought, heels still half on.
Eggchan stood by the door for a moment, staring at him,then he let out a quiet sigh.
“Poor guy,” he muttered. “All that running, and somehow I’m the one tired.”
He walked over and placed the food he had brought onto the small wooden table near the window. Bread, stew, and a few sweet berries—nothing grand, but enough for morning.
Eggchan sat down on his own bed, the room lit only by the soft glow of the lantern hanging near the wall. Outside, the village had quieted. Only the occasional footsteps and distant animal sounds remained.
He closed his eyes. The moment he did, the air around him shifted.A faint golden light formed, soft at first, then brighter.Two halos appeared above him, circling slowly like rings of light caught in orbit. Then, at the center of his forehead, a third eye opened.
His body remained seated in the room, but his spiritual mind got teleported to somewhere else.
In an instant, his consciousness was pulled into a private dimensional chamber.
A quiet place beyond ordinary space.
The room was vast and dim, with no visible walls, only darkness stretching endlessly beyond the edges of a polished stone floor. At its center stood a large circular table of black marble, smooth as still water.
Four chairs surrounded it ,two were already occupied. It seems eggchan was the third to arrive.
He stepped forward calmly and took the empty seat across from the last vacant chair.
“I apologize for my lateness,” he said formally, folding his hands.
Across from him sat a man dressed in sharp colors, his smile unreadable and his posture far too relaxed for someone holding that much authority.
ClownPierce.
Guardian of the Nether.
“There is nothing to worry about,” ClownPierce said smoothly. “You are right on time. We were only just about to begin.”
Across him sat another man, far quieter.
JamatoP.
Guardian of the Underworld.
His expression was cold as winter, his black eyes carrying the kind of silence that made people speak less around him.
Eggchan glanced toward the empty fourth seat.
“But the Guardian of the Overworld is not here yet.”
JamatoP answered before ClownPierce could.
“He is occupied with matters of importance. I will inform him of everything discussed tonight.”
Eggchan nodded once.“Understood.”
ClownPierce leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly against the table.
“Then let us begin.”His voice echoed strangely in the stillness.
“If anyone has matters to report, speak now.”
Eggchan slowly raised his hand.
Both of them looked at him.
He took a breath.
“The End Dragon is in the Overworld.”
There was silence at first, then—
“In fact,” Eggchan added carefully, “he is currently with me.”
For the first time that night, both of them looked genuinely surprised.
ClownPierce smiled, it was not a comforting smile.
“…Now isn’t that interesting.”
JamatoP’s gaze sharpened.
“You are the Guardian of the End,” he said flatly. “Were you not tasked with watching over him?”
Eggchan kept his posture straight.
“I was.”
“And yet,” JamatoP continued, “the last End Dragon is wandering the Overworld like a lost traveler.”
ClownPierce chuckled softly.
“How irresponsible of you.”
Eggchan exhaled slowly.
“I understand your concerns. I take full responsibility.”
JamatoP crossed his arms.
“And your solution?”
“I will escort him safely back to the End.”
ClownPierce tilted his head.
“And how exactly do you plan to do that?”
Eggchan was silent.
ClownPierce’s smile widened.
“Because if I remember correctly… the portal is not exactly somewhere one simply walks into.”
The room felt colder.
“You know where it is located,” ClownPierce continued. “And what stands between.”
Eggchan’s jaw tightened slightly.
“That,” he admitted, “is the problem I am currently trying to solve.”
JamatoP spoke next.
“And what happens when others find out? You understand the consequences.”
Eggchan did, too well.
If kingdoms learned a dragon walked among them—especially the last one—there would be panic. Greed. War. People feared what they did not understand, and rulers desired what they could not control.
Neither ended well.
“That is why,” Eggchan said firmly, “I am doing everything in my power to ensure it does not happen.”
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then ClownPierce gave a quiet, almost amused laugh.
“Well then. If disaster is delayed, I suppose we may proceed to the next agenda.”
He straightened slightly.
“If anyone has anything further to present, speak now.”
The meeting continued.
Reports. Warnings. Kingdom movements. Shifts in ancient magic. Small cracks in old balances that only beings like them still noticed.
Time passed strangely there.Minutes could have been hours.
At last, ClownPierce placed both hands on the table.
“If there are no additional matters to present…”
He stood.
“…the meeting is concluded.”
The others rose with him.
Eggchan closed his eyes once more—and returned.
The halos vanished, and so does the third eye.
He opened his eyes back in the quiet inn room.The lantern still burned softly.Outside, it was deep into the night—perhaps it was already midnight.
Eggchan turned his head.
Wemmbu was still asleep, somehow now taking up even more of the bed than before.
Eggchan stared at him for a long moment.
Then sighed.
“…Wemmbu,” he muttered tiredly, “what am I supposed to do with you?”
No answer.Of course not.
He leaned back against the bed and looked up at the ceiling.
His thoughts returned to the same problem.
The end portal is far from the North, it will take us at least months....
“…How do we even get in there…” he murmured.
But he was too tired to keep chasing the thought.
So, with one last glance at the sleeping dragon across the room, Eggchan closed his eyes.
And let the night take him too.
________________________________________________
Morning came far too quickly.
Sunlight slipped through the small inn window, warm and annoyingly bright, landing directly on Wemmbu’s face like the sun itself had a personal issue with him.
He was sitting up in bed, but only barely.
Half-asleep, half-dead, staring into nothing like a man questioning every life choice that led him here.
Eggchan stood in front of him, fully awake and somehow looking responsible this early in the morning.
Suspicious behavior.
In one hand, he held food.
“Wemmbu,” he said, “wake up properly. You didn’t eat last night.”
Wemmbu blinked slowly.
“Bro…” he muttered, voice still trapped in sleep. “It’s so early…”
Eggchan ignored the complaint and shoved the food into his hands.
“Eat. Quickly. We’re leaving after.”
Wemmbu looked down at the food like it had personally offended him.
“Bro, why are you always in such a hurry? It’s not like the world is ending.”
Eggchan rolled his eyes while packing their things.
“For you, specifically, it might.”
“See? Negative mindset.”
Eggchan chose peace and said nothing.
After much unnecessary complaining and dramatic suffering from Wemmbu, they finally left the inn and headed back onto the road.
The village was quieter in the morning, with only farmers and merchants already awake. The rest of the world still seemed to be deciding whether it wanted to exist yet.
They walked past the gates and onto the open path.
The morning air was cool, carrying the smell of grass and distant rain.
After a while, Wemmbu stretched his arms and looked over.
“Egg. Where are we heading next?”
“To Whiteleaf Haven,” Eggchan replied.
Wemmbu frowned.
“That sounds like a place old people retire to.”
Eggchan ignored that.
“We’ll stay near the border of Floralia first.
There’s a village there.”
He adjusted the bag over his shoulder.
“Then we move toward Whiteleaf.”
Wemmbu kicked a small stone off the road.
“Why not just head there now? Wouldn’t
stopping slow us down?”
Eggchan nodded toward the western woods ahead.
“Because Whiteleaf has no villages. No towns. Nothing useful.”
“Why?”
Eggchan answered like it was obvious.
“Because it’s full of monsters and nobody wants to live there.”
Wemmbu considered that.
“…Fair enough.”
They kept walking.
The road stretched long across the land, passing smaller villages, farms, and travelers moving in the opposite direction. It should have been faster—but Wemmbu somehow found twenty different reasons to stop.
A weird bird.
A suspiciously shaped cloud.
A flower he swore looked “judgmental.”
By the time they finally reached the Floralia border, the sun had already started setting.
Eggchan looked at the darkening sky and sighed the sigh of a man losing years off his life.
“We need the nearest village. Now.”
They found one eventually—but unfortunately, the gates were already closing.
Both of them froze.
The guards were already pulling the heavy wooden doors shut.
Eggchan turned.
Wemmbu turned.
They looked at each other.
Then—
“RUN.”
They bolted.
Absolutely no dignity. Just pure survival.
They sprinted across the road like criminals fleeing taxes, bags bouncing, boots hitting dirt, with one guard already shouting at them to hurry up.
They barely made it through.
Barely.
Wemmbu bent forward, hands on his knees, trying to breathe.
“Bro… we almost didn’t make it…”
Eggchan was leaning against the wall, equally exhausted.
“That,” he said between breaths, “was deeply embarrassing.”
Wemmbu looked up.
Then immediately started laughing.
“BRO—you tripped in front of the guard!”
Eggchan looked offended.
“The ground was uneven!”
“You fell like a dramatic princess!”
“I misstepped!”
“You grabbed the guard for emotional support!”
“That is not what happened!”
Wemmbu laughed harder.
Eggchan considered murder.
But only briefly.
By the time they settled into another small inn for the night, they were still laughing about it.
Even Eggchan gave up defending himself eventually.
Morning came again.
Far too soon.
This time Eggchan woke up first, right as the sun was beginning to rise.
Which was illegal behavior, honestly.
He woke Wemmbu, who responded like a man being summoned to war.
After several complaints, one blanket theft attempt, and a threat involving divine judgment from Eggchan, they were finally back on the road.
Soon, they reached the edge of the birch forest near Whiteleaf’s border.
Tall white trees surrounded them, their pale trunks rising like pillars. Even though morning had arrived, the forest still felt dim. Sunlight struggled to pass through the thick canopy above.
It was quiet.Too quiet.
Eggchan held up a hand.
“Let’s wait here for a bit.”
Wemmbu frowned.
“Why?”
“So the monsters burning in sunlight can finish dying first.”
Wemmbu blinked.
“…Wait. There are monsters that don’t burn in sunlight?”
Eggchan nodded.
“Of course. Creepers, for example.”
He said it casually, like that wasn’t horrifying information.
“If they see you and get close enough, they explode.”
Wemmbu stopped walking.
“…They what?”
“They explode.”
“…On purpose?”
“Yes.”
“…That sucks.”
“Correct.”
They waited near the trees for a while until the sun climbed higher and the morning light finally settled.
Eggchan looked ahead into the forest.
“I think we’re good now.”
Wemmbu crossed his arms.
“Bro. If we were going to wait for the sun anyway, why did we come here this early?”
Eggchan started walking.
“Bro, let’s go.”
Wemmbu stared at him in disbelief.
“That is not an answer.”
No response.
“BRO!”
Still nothing.
Wemmbu sighed dramatically and followed after him.
“Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”
________________________________________________
The moment they stepped into the birch forest, everything changed.
The air felt colder somehow. Quieter.
Even the usual sounds of the world seemed softer here, like the trees were swallowing them whole. White trunks stretched high around them, tall and pale, while shadows sat between them like something alive.
Wemmbu walked carefully, eyes moving from tree to tree.
Eggchan stayed close, far more alert than he liked to admit.
Neither of them spoke much.
Because when forests got too quiet, it usually meant something else was making sure they stayed that way.
Wemmbu narrowed his eyes.
“…I don’t like this.”
Eggchan nodded once.
“Correct feeling.”
A rustling sound.
Behind them.
Wemmbu turned—
And immediately saw an ugly ahh green teletubby creeper.
Far too close.
Its face was already hissing.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me—”
Without thinking, Wemmbu grabbed Eggchan and shoved both of them forward.
The explosion hit behind them with a loud blast, dirt and leaves flying into the air.
They hit the ground hard.
For one second, silence.
Then Wemmbu pushed himself up, brushing dirt from his clothes.
“…i hate my life.”
Eggchan stood beside him, coughing.
“i hate this forest.”
Then he looked up.
And froze.
Above them, clinging to the tree like it paid rent there—
A giant spider.
Staring directly at him.
Its red eyes blinked once.
Eggchan stared back.
With the calm of a man spiritually leaving his body.
“…I’m cooked.”
Wemmbu followed his gaze.
Saw the spider.
Saw more movement in the trees.
Saw additional creepers approaching like the forest itself had filed a complaint.
He made the only correct decision.
He grabbed Eggchan’s hand.
“Egg! Stop staring at that big ugly spider and MOVE!”
And they ran.
Immediately.
No strategy.
Only fear.
They sprinted through the forest at full speed, branches snapping behind them as creepers followed, hissing like angry tea kettles from hell.
Spiders crawled across the trees above, keeping pace like nightmare decorations.
Wemmbu was, of course, the loudest.
“WHY ARE THERE SO MANY?!”
“Because life hates us!”
“THIS IS YOUR FAULT SOMEHOW!”
“I DON’T THINK THAT’S FAIR!”
They zigzagged between trees, ran in circles, doubled back, nearly tripped over roots, and at one point Eggchan physically shoved Wemmbu out of the way of another explosion.
There was screaming.
Most of it was Wemmbu.
At one point, Eggchan slapped a hand over his mouth while still running.
“Stop yelling! You’re attracting them!”
“MMPH?!”
“Yes, exactly!”
They kept running.
And running.
And running.
Until finally—
Light.
The trees began to thin.
The shadows broke.
And they burst out of the forest like two men who had seen the face of death and deeply disliked it.
They didn’t stop until they reached open land.
Then both collapsed.
Wemmbu hit the ground first.
Eggchan followed with slightly more dignity, which still wasn’t much.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Just breathing.
Recovering.
Regretting choices.
After a few minutes, Wemmbu slowly sat up.
Then stopped.
Completely.
Because in front of them—
Was the ocean.
Vast. Endless. Blue stretching farther than sight itself.
The sunlight danced over the surface like liquid glass. Waves rolled gently toward the shore, soft and steady, like the sea was breathing.
Wemmbu stared.
Silent.
Slowly, he stood.
And walked toward it.
Eggchan stayed behind, too tired to move and too emotionally exhausted to question anything anymore.
Wemmbu reached the shore.
The waves touched the sand, retreating and returning like they were inviting him closer.
He hesitated.
Then slowly crouched down and reached out.
His fingers touched the water.
Cool.
Soft.
Real.
His eyes widened slightly.
No pain.
No burning.
Just cold, gentle movement slipping over his skin.
For someone from the End, where water meant danger and distance, it felt almost impossible.
He stepped forward.
One foot into the water.
Then another.
The coolness wrapped around him, and for the first time in his life, he stood in the ocean.
Wemmbu turned back.
And smiled.
A real one.
Wide. Bright. Unguarded.
Eggchan looked at him from the shore and, despite everything, smiled too.
There it was.
That was the reason.
Why he let him stay.
Why he kept making excuses.
Because moments like this mattered.
Meanwhile, Wemmbu had already moved from “emotional character development” to “water gremlin.”
He was splashing the water with both hands like a child discovering chaos.
“Wemmbu!” Eggchan shouted. “Don’t get too wet!”
Wemmbu, naturally, ignored him.
Eggchan sighed the sigh of someone realizing peace was never an option and reluctantly stood up, walking toward him.
Big mistake.
Because Wemmbu noticed.
And planned violence.
The moment Eggchan got close enough—
Splash.
A full attack of seawater straight to the face.
Eggchan froze.
Dripping.
“Wemmbu.”
Wemmbu was already laughing.
“Bro, try having fun for once!"
“Bro,” Eggchan replied, wiping water from his face, “we need to move. Stop this.”
“Bro,” Wemmbu said with a grin, “just admit you can’t fight back.”
Eggchan narrowed his eyes.
He knew it was bait.
He knew.
And yet—
“Oh, you are absolutely on.”
He scooped water and threw it right back.
Direct hit.
Wemmbu gasped dramatically. (Drama queen)
“Betrayal!”
“Justice!”
And just like that, the beach became a battlefield.
For the next several minutes, they forgot about monsters, kingdoms, portals, responsibilities—
And just laughed, having the time of their lives.
Splashing water, arguing nonsense, and fighting the most important war of their lives.