This chapter mainly focuses on Armen and Xavier. I didn't originally plan to write this chapter and I definitely did not intend for it to be so long. I began writing a different version but it lacked important information and details that this part has. Although I'm not happy with how rushed the ending feels.
The picture above is from SammyTheDragonLord. I'm glad that I finally found the opportunity to use it.
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One year later-

Grayson's point of view-

"Alright men." I caught everyone's attention as I slammed the paper onto the table, the mumbling echoing off of the walls finally coming to a halt.

Silence swept through the large room with columns holding up the ceiling and torches along the wall. Their eyes fixated upon me as they waited for me to discuss our plans. I looked down at the map in front of myself, looking at the drawings of ink that depicted the northern west region just beyond empire boundaries. The cult had taken over most of the south, the west, and pieces of the north, but they did not dare to touch my empire...not yet at least. Fortunately, throughout my time as the emperor, we were slowly getting rid of those parasites.
It had been over a year since we had lost Drake. A year since Drake lost complete control over his body to a fallen god... A year since Drake died, and I still could not set aside the blame I placed upon myself. I was doing everything in my power to avenge my best friend's death, including claiming the throne of the empire that once despised my very being.
It took three months for Armen, Lalea, Mia, Nathan, and I to even reach the boundaries of the Northern empire. When we finally did manage to reach this place, the palace was under new rule by yet another tyrant that many claimed to be even worse than the previous one. Despite how powerful the army was, it was not too much of a challenge to march in and claim the throne when I had a powerful magic controlling dragon by my side and with help from the fact that the empire was beginning to fall apart to riots and civilian rebellions.
When I claimed the throne, some praised me while others continued to view me as the treacherous thief that they had grown to know me as. Not everyone took too kindly to having an ex-criminal on the throne, especially the most wanted criminal in all of the region. Moving into the palace was one amazing benefit to claiming the highest position in the nation, and another was the fact that I was thankfully able to revoke my comrade's statuses as wanted criminals and allowed them to move into the imperial cities if they pleased.
Of course my time as the new emperor has been far from simple. There were battles after battles and weighing loss with each drop of blood spilled, most of our battles with the armies of the cult. I hate bloodshed, but I suppose that in order to end the bloodshed, you have to willing to spill just a little more. A few times civil war nearly broke out because of those who refused to accept that an ex-criminal was their new emperor and by those who claimed that my plans to bring an end to Herobrine's reign was psychopathic.
In some of our battles...we encountered Drake, or his possessed body as I should verify. He sometimes summoned monsters to keep us at bay, but we always pushed through. We took down multiple bases in cultist territory, and now we were so close to the end. I could feel it.

"According to our recent findings in our last siege upon a base in the territory of the cult of him, and our interrogations with our prisoners associated with the cult, this..."

I pointed close to the opposite end of the map, towards the center of the western north of the region. There was an old kingdom that had fallen to Herobrine many years ago, before Armen was possessed, but it became populated by people once again only fall once more and became part of the cult of Herobrine's territory.

I continued. "Should be the capital of the cultist land. It was once called 'The Guardians kingdom', a very powerful kingdom that preserved and protected ancient history and magic."

A voice spoke up from the group, everyone easily able to recognize that English accent that the man possessed. "Were they associated with the Order of the Arcane?"

Everyone seemed to lean in or back up a bit at the mention of the Order. I had informed everyone about it, and those who remembered that war were often put on edge by the organization's very name. I swallowed a lump in my throat, looking back to Xavier who was standing beside Armen's right hand side.
Xavier wore black pants that were not tattered like his old pants that he had when we first met, with black boots and gloves. He also wore a white hooded vest with short sleeves on top of a black shirt with long sleeves, along with his goggles as usual, and a black and green striped scarf that Endy had made him. He hardly ever took the thing off.
Armen wore a white jacket over a gray shirt with dark grey pants. He also had on a pair of gloves and long boots and Drake's old cape that he wore almost everyday.

"They have no association, to my limited knowledge. All I know is what they preserved magic and historical artifacts and that they were once guarded by powerful magical beings known as Guardians. We can only assume that he was the only one strong enough to bring them down. Now, let's discuss the mission at hand, shall we?"

I adjusted the green cape around my neck so that it did not fall over my shoulders. It felt heavy but I was used to the weight of the thick fabric. The red ribbons on the back of my circlet crown tickled the back of my neck as I turned my head, but my hair had grown out long enough so that the ribbon did not constantly rub against my skin. I scratched my beard that had grown thicker and had small curls.

"The city is large but in ruin according minor reports sent back from a few of you guys who scanned the area. The main city's walls are heavily guarded, but there is a weak spot that they seem to not patrol around as much. The northern west corner of the city wall would be one of our best options to go up and over."

My arm moved to the east. "Another option is the water system. One group will go to this lake over here that leads into the cities water supply. This will allow us to go underneath the cities and remain largely undetected. There is also the option of posing as a member of the cult. No matter which method you use to enter the base, you must blend in. And remember, this is the capital, meaning that they must have very powerful defenses. Are we clear?"

Everyone in the room nodded and replied "yes sir."

I rolled up the map and gave a nod. "Good. Xavier and Armen, I want you two to take the up and over route. You guys are the most efficient with disposing of bodies and being, well...good at taking the more challenging tasks. Daniel and Mason, you two will try to enter through the wells of the water system leading into the city. I can trust you four the most in challenging objectives such as this. We will go through with the plan tomorrow night if no one objects."

I looked around and waited for someone to just an objection aloud, but the men remained silent. I had a few female spies as well, but cultist did not treat women kindly and if any of my female spies were caught... I did not want to think of the outcome. I smiled at the fact that no one seemed to be against my plans, but it was to be expected considering that we have done this time and time again.

"Alright. If you find anything, you try to leave the base with it if possible. Report the information you find to me. The amount of artillery, estimated soldier count, what magic they are capable of and anything else that you can find. If we are capable of it, we will bring the base down a few days after this mission. Clear?" Everyone said that they understood.

"Good. Everyone, you are dismissed."

  "And remember, thousands of refugees are flooding into imperial territory do to the fact that much of the rest of the country is either until cult rule or was attacked with such devastation left behind that much of the surrounding lands are incapable of harboring life. It's only a matter of time before He finally decides to attack the empire and bring us down."

They looked to me and nodded, some looking scared at the thought that we were next for Herobrine's conquest. Everyone began to leave the room, talking and mumbling as they walked away. The large doors closed behind them, their footsteps slowly fading away from my ears. The two that stayed behind were Armen and Xavier. I rolled up the map, smiling at them before I turned around and put the map back into a custom shelf with diamond shaped slots. It resembled a wine bottle shelf but I used it to store my maps. I turned back around and faced my friends who both continued to stare at me.
I sighed and walked over to them, putting my arms on the table and putting my weight on them. I listened to Xavier as he stated that he was at the Guardians kingdom once in the past to do some spy work until the old emperor made him switch missions and told him to look after Luke instead when he was in his mission to capture Drake. I scratched at the table at the mention of my old friends, remembering when Luke died in my arms and his spirit was corrupted into a monster. I still had his hat that I kept safe in a glass case in my palace dwellings. Then I remembered Drake's screams of agony and all of the blood...

I pushed the memories to the back of my mind and forced on a grin. "That's good! It means that you know your way around that place right?"

He shrugged. "I suppose, but I can't say for certain just incase the cultists changed the place up. Fortunately, I do know the layout to the palace, well, most of the first floor at least."

The room shifted to silence. It was a moderate temperature and our voices echoed off of the walls. A few tapestries hung that depicted the Northern imperial crest, which had a sword and two crescent moons in gold with a red and royal blue fabric base. The torches made the lighting dim and caused it to flicker, but there was a chandelier up above us with candles that made most of the room bright. My dragon slept in the corner of the room, his new name being Dracey. I saw it in a book and thought the name looked interesting. Minus his tail, he was as long as my upper body and around four feet tall.

Armen finally spoke. "What if he shows up and tries to attack us?"

I chuckled. "Just do what we always do. Run around, fight when you can and pray that you survive."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Great advice."

Just then, the door opened and a girl stepped in, one of my servants. She said that my services were needed, so I told Armen and Xavier that I would speak to them again some other time.

Armen's point of view-

We left the meeting room, Grayson going to a separate part of the palace while Xavier was readying to leave and see Endy and Jane, while I was planning on going to the palace library to study magic with the rest of the magi guild. It was what I usually did in my free time. I enjoyed spending time with Lalea, since she was like a sister to me...or a good sister in law would be more appropriate. I said my goodbyes to Xavier and said I would see him tomorrow and wished us both luck on the mission at the Guardians kingdom.
After that, I went over to the library. I pushed the doors opened, greeted by rows of bookshelves with steps that led up to a second story. In the center of the room was a mahogany table on top of a red and royal blue rug with golden trimming. Chandlers hung from the ceiling and lit the room with dim light, with help from candles lit here and there. There was a blissful silence as I realized that the room was desolate of other people, the exemption being myself and one other person who sat in a chair by the table.
She wore a royal blue silk dress that had slits on the side that revealed the skin on her arms. A golden band wrapped around her abdomen and her lapis hair hung down, falling over her shoulders as she looked down at a book in front of her. My footsteps caught her attention as I approached, causing her to look up and smile at me.

I spoke before she could. "Do you ever wear any other color besides blue?"

"Armen! Come sit over here." Lalea said.

I examined her, seeing her moonstone ring and caged heart necklace that I never saw her without. She rolled her eyes as I pulled out a chair and sat down.

She finally responded to my statement. "And yes, I do. You know that. I just...think that blue fits me best, obviously." She flicked a strand of her bright lapis hair.

I laughed before we became quite. She asked about our mission and I told her that we were going out to spy on the cultists in the Guardians kingdom the next day. She warned me to be careful and I assured her that I would. Her blue eyes always seemed to be hiding something, like pain that her heart latched onto and I knew that it was because of Drake. I felt horrible that she had to live knowing that her love was possessed and his spirit was trapped, on top of the knowledge that he was dead in that body. A times I wanted to convince her to move on but it felt wrong to push her away from my brother.
I often made myself distant with her and pushed her away at times to prevent having to see her sad and possibly see her fall out of love with Drake, but I was still a close friend of hers. She never seemed to drift away from her admiration of Drake and I knew that she still loved him. She still had hope that they could be together.

"How's your... Nightmare problem?" She asked, trying not to sound rude.

My hand instinctively rose up and covered my left eye, remembering my Nightmare half. Half of my body was completely black and what human skin I had left that was becoming a palish blue. My heartbeat also became less frequent, becoming slower and slower as the days passed. At this point, it was close to not pumping at all. I also noticeably no longer needed as much oxygen as others would say was the average amount. It was like I was slowly dying...slowly losing my mortality and humanity and turning back into a monster.

I scratched the back of my neck. "Um, okay I guess. I don't really need oxygen as much as I used to and...my heart is slowly beating less frequently."

Her face filled with concern. My face was growing red, myself not wanting to talk about it, despite that I usually told her about this stuff and she, Endy, and Grayson often helped me coop with it. Although it was not like discussing my Nightmare issues would solve the problem.
I looked over at her opened book, recognizing the spell that she was studying. I read the letters written in the magi language, asking about what she was reading before I fully read it in my mind. At least I changed the subject. Lalea looked back to her book, placing a elbow on the table.

"Oh. It's lucid dreaming. A spell that you can use to control your dreams."

I nodded. "Yeah, I know. Drake used to be a master at that before...everything started going to h**l."

Lalea's eyes lit up. She put on a weak smile and a let out a halfhearted chuckle as she messed with her ring. "Really? Well, I've been trying to learn it because...I'm still having dreams about Drake. They're getting more frequent. Sometimes it feels as if he's...reaching out to me or we're somehow sharing this...connection."

I lowered a brow. "Talking to you? Like...what I did while I was possessed and after I died?"

She looked away from my and started rubbing her arm, a bit of a nervous tick that she had. "I guess so. Yeah. I'm hoping that by mastering lucid dreaming, I can control my dreams and see if it really is Drake or just my mind playing tricks."

Her eyes started tearing up. "You know...I still see him chained up in that room full of fire and...he's in pain and broken. Sometimes he cries and screams and begs for me to help..."

She let out a hiccup as her eyes started to become red with a single tear finally sliding down her rosy cheek. "Other times he screams and yells at me and demands me to leave him alone, saying that he can't be saved."

I looked down, remembering back when I was possessed and when I was a full Nightmare, sharing this strange link with Drake in his dreams. I remembered begging him to abandon me and to stop trying to save me from possession then sometimes begging for help because I was in so much pain. I tried not to let myself shed a tear.

"I know exactly what you're talking about. I know exactly what he must feel like. It's complete h**l in that demon's mind."

The flashbacks kept rolling in, my fingers tingling and my body becoming fidgety. I kept remembering watching Drake struggling to save me and when he was slowly dying both mentally, emotionally, and literally. I felt so helpless like there was nothing I could do. I tried to help him...but I was not good enough. I failed him. Anxiety began to come upon me and I began to cast self blame onto myself. Survivor's guilt began to return I felt my limbs becoming heavy with myself drifting from reality until Lalea snapped me out of it.

"Hey. It's okay. We're going to save Drake, remember? One way or another, he will be fine. Okay?"

I blinked as my body started to feel lighter. I often had episodes like that, including nightmares, occasional insomnia, and anger issues at times. Sometimes I would take the helmet that I had found in Drake's basement and scream as if I was talking to Drake, angered by the fact that none of this would have happened if he had just left me alone and accepted that I could not be saved. I isolated myself from time to time, preferring to be alone and developed anxiety issues. People have told me that I was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, and that it should be normal with all of the crap that I went through. Does that mean that Drake is going to have it too? Did he already have it before he died? Now that I think about it... I think so.

I let out a heavy breath and tried to relax myself, rubbing my eyes with my sleeve. "I know, I just... it's hard not feeling...stressed at the thought of it. The thought of Drake going through that same h**l that I went through. We need to save him as soon as possible."

She wiped her eyes and sniffed. "Right... You better give it your all tomorrow. No pressure."

I chuckled, beginning to feel better. "I will do what I can. I am going to get Drake back or at least free him one way or another. Grayson, Mia, you, me... we are all devoted to saving him and I know that with our efforts, we eventually will. It is just a matter of when. Unless Herobrine actually kills us, but if he hasn't by now, then I think we have a chance."
...

The next night-

Xavier's point of view-

I let out a heavy breath as I looked back up, attempting to keep myself calm and collected. I had done this many times before, so why was my heart racing so much now of all times? I was sweating, but I was positive that it was because of the blazing heat absorbing into my black clothing. It was the middle of the night yet the air was scorching for some odd reason. The fact that it was the beginning of summer could not be the reason. The atmosphere in the country was changing, the lands slowly dying and the temperature rising. It was almost like some sort of apocalypse.
We both were in a completely back attire so we could more easily blend into the darkness of the night. I had on a black satchel to carry any small artifacts that we found that might be useful. The stars glittered up above but the leaves and branches of the trees up above were blocking my view of them. I had my sword in a hostler and my chakram that I preferred to bring with me on missions. Unlike usual, I did not bring my scarf nor wore my goggles. It bothered me, but it was mandatory in order for us to possibly pull off this mission. We had to fit in. Also on my belt was a hook and long line of rope to help us get over the wall. It was too much of a risk for us to just impersonate a couple of cultist and walk in through the front gate since Armen could be easily recognized if anything happened and they might put us through test to prove that we were one of them. You would probably expect us to know this stuff with how long we have been pulling this stuff off, but unfortunately we do not.
I pulled my mask back up over my mouth and nose, pulling at my hood. I kept myself steady, staying balanced on the tree branch as I waited for a passerby. My eyes moved up to gaze at the other tree in front of me that was rooted on the other side of the desolate dirt path. My eyes rested on Armen who sat on a thick branch, seeming to be board. He had done this sort of thing with me for awhile now, so I guess you could call him one of Grayson's official spies.
After Grayson took out the previous emperor and took his place as the empire's ruler, Jane, Endy, and myself went back to the empire as I had promised. It took three months to get there by foot but the long, treacherous journey was worth it. I got to move back into Emerald city, this time with Endy along with Jane and I. Endy got a house next door to us. We went out on a few dates here and there when Jane finally began school, and who would have thought that Endy's new career would do so well? She was now a teacher to young magi who had just discovered their abilities. She did not get too many students, or at least she did not at first until her organization began raising awareness of magic capabilities. I'm proud of her.

"This is taking too long." Armen complained.

I looked to the path, then back up to him. "Just be patient. The wait will be worth it. Trust me."

I focused in on the sounds, only able to hear the noise of leaves rustling in the breeze and animals in the distance. Then there was a light in the distance that lit up the pathway and the canopy of leaves. I pulled my head back and readjusted my feet on the branch, waiting for the light to get closer. Loud sound grew closer as well until a carriage being pulled by two horses came into view. Two cultists sat up front, one holding up a lit torch which the other manned the horse's reigns.
I looked over to Armen and nodded. He tilted his head in a nod, then turned back as he held up his arm. I turned around on the branch and let my legs dangle, preparing myself for Armen's attack. A bright orb of cyan magic formed in front of his hand, the bright light catching the attention of the two cultists. They both called out to warn the other, the two horses panicking and beginning to run wild as the blast of magic shot out towards them. It collided into the one on the left, knocking him off of his seat and causing him to fall onto the ground. I heard the loud band and unsettling crunching as the back wheel rolled over him. At least he was wearing armor, but that did not really matter since we were going to kill him anyway.
As the steeds ran wild and continued to approach, I drew my sword and looked over my shoulder for the perfect moment. Once he was close enough, I carefully locked my legs around the tree branch and swung down, holding my sword straight out so the needle point tip aimed at his head. It was a very tricky task to get the right timing, avoid the horse's head that grazed the top of my scalp, and get my swords position correctly so that it slipped right into the eye opening of his helmet.
The horse and carriage continued moving forward as the cultists remained with my blade impaled into his head. His body moved forward, his blood splattering onto my face. I pointed the sword more downwards so the corpse slipped off and fell to the ground. I sat back up straight and pushed myself off of the branch, landing safely on the ground. Armen jumped down as well, quickly running to the cultist that he had shot with his magic.
Before the cultist could recover from a coughing fit and reach for his weapon, Armen stabbed his in the throat. I peered over the body of my victim and kicked him just to be sure that he was dead. The blood pooled from his head and eye socket, making a sickening and gory scene. I took in a deep breath of air and kneeled down, ripping off the man's helmet that was now filled with blood.

I wiped the blood off of my face, then tried desperately to clean the blood out of the helmet. "Ugh. Disgusting."

Armen finished adjusting the red cape on his shoulders and held up the helmet, speaking as he put it on. He put on the red and black armor, obviously struggling to support its weight and looking a little too small for the chest plate. He pulled down his mask and gave me a smug grin.

"Hey, at least it makes you look more like one of them. Besides, you have the most creepy smile out of everyone I know and that unsettling gleam in your eyes when your happy. That should help you blend in."

He stopped talking when I growled. He pulled up his mask and once again tried to make his armor more comfortable. I put on the armor, my body quickly adjusting to the heavy weight. I looked at the shining the red blade lined with sharp obsidian that was bright  and thick. I ran my finger across it to be sure that it was sharp, pleased to see it cut through a piece of my glove and prick my finger like a paper cut. At least it was sharp. I sheathed the blade and the two of us dragged the bodies off of the path, hiding them behind the trees and in the bushes.
I looked up as I heard the horses galloping and making loud noises as they continued to be frightened. The cart repeatedly crashed into trees, their noises slowly getting quieter as they ran off into the forest. Armen quietly whimpered and rubbed his arm.

"Do you think they'll be okay? Should we go after them?"

I looked down the path, then back to Armen and the direction to the kingdom. "Nah... I'm sure they'll be fine. We have a mission we have to focus on."

I began walking down the path, desperately trying to see in the darkness. The moonlight shining past the leaves up above helped me see but sometimes it was too dark to not avoid walking into a tree. Armen laughed at me, then proceeded to walk into a tree as he laughed. I giggled at his karma. After a few minutes, we began to hear noises that sounded like people and saw light in the distance. A familiar rough feeling tugged at my chest. We were definitely in cultist land.
The walls were high with men patrolling up above and below. The walls were covered in moss and dangling vines. Fire was lit on torches on the top of the wall and the gate was made of stone. It was closed but the men watching it did not seem the least bit exhausted.
I could hear the whips lashing behind those stone walls, hearing screaming and cries being howled out by the captives. Those poor people turned into slaves. My blood always chilled then boiled at the thought that these monsters could ruthlessly kill and make these people suffer. They really are just like that white eyed devil.
The former kingdom was decreased in size over the years that it was brought down and made even worse after the cult took over the land. The walls were tall and stretched out at an estimate of a square mile or 640 square acres. The mountains were in the back of the city were the walls ended and lead to the small castle.

"We can't go through the front gate because they'll recognize you and they probably have some sort of code to tell if we truly are one of them or not."

Once we tried to get in through the front gate, but they talked to us in a different language and were easily able to tell that we were spies when we had no idea how to reply. We never figured out what language it was, though Armen knew a bit of it. Unfortunately he was not fluent enough that it would be an advantage. Armen and I continued to circle the base walls until we made it to the north side of the west wall. Just as Grayson had informed us, this wall was not as heavily guarded as the rest. Just a typical cultist flaw. I pulled out my hook and rope, looking over to Armen.

"Alright lad. Do your thing and do not get carried away and stay calm. We do not want that spirit half of yours to get worse."

He nodded and grumbled that he already knew the procedure. I watched as his skin and closed turned black, as well as his eyes before his physical form melted into the darkness. As he disappeared, I looked up at the men patrolling above the wall and waited for the fun to begin. The men began to scream as they were each pulled down to the ground one by one by an invisible force. I saw Armen reemerge and manipulated the shadows around them to ensnare the cultists and easily slice through them like a knife cutting through stale bread. Pieces of their armor flew with their blood as the shadows cracked them, with Armen making sure that they let out no screams that would give away our cover. When the cultists were dead, I saw Armen collapse.
Swiftly, I dashed to the wall and started swinging the hook in circles, gaining momentum before I tossed it into the air. The hook fortunately snagged to the top of the wall, and I tugged on the rope tied to it to be sure. It seemed sturdy enough. I pulled myself up until I reached the top, hoping over and letting go of the rope as I rushed to Armen's side.

I started shaking him until he groaned. "Hey lad, wake up! You pushed yourself again."

He sat up and moaned, rubbing his helmet in attempt to rub his head. "Sorry...I couldn't help myself. I just started to get angry and... sorry."

I sighed and helped him up to his feet, telling him that it was okay but that he needed to start looking after himself. I went over and grabbed my hook then pulled the rope up and wrapped it around my arm over and over again to get it into a circle so I could put it back onto my belt. As I was doing so, I heard Armen hiss and whimper in pain. When I turned to face him, he was almost to his knees, slouched over and clawing at his face.
I got to his side as his arms lowered and his breathing became heavy. Once I saw his face, I let out a gasp. The blackness had grown across his skin, going over more than half of his face. The red of his armor was even slowly beginning to turn black. I growled and scowled at him, finishing what I was doing. This was why I told him not to push himself, because every time he did, his Nightmare side only got worse. That and it sometimes weakened him depending on how much of his power that he used.

"You alright lad?" I asked him.

He blinked and stood up straight, letting out a deep breath as the pain seemed to fade. He nodded and said that he was okay now before walking over to one of the bodies and picking it up. He walked over to the wall and dumped it, letting the corpse drop to the bushes below. I began helping him, grabbing bodies and quickly tossing them to the other side before any other cult soldiers spotted us. We did not know what to do with the blood that pooled on the stone or the shards of broken armor. Those would definitely be giveaways that someone had infiltrated the base.
Despite that, we did not bother to clean up the blood or anything else, instead we quickly got to another end of the wall and hoped that no one would figure out that we were not one of them. We walked past multiple men, easily able to not draw attention to ourselves. Lined evenly along the walls were cannons mounted to the bricks, each aimed to fire into the forest. From what I could see, there were many cannons and they had a surplus of ammunition.
We made it to the ladder and climbed down letting our feet touch the mud that had occasional patches of grass. The buildings were mainly made of stone, many of them covered in vines with holes and damaged, some with scorch marks. I knew that the damage must have been done when Herobrine conquered this place.
I looked up a head to see the old castle, but something large blocked the otherwise clear view. In the way was a tall statue made of gray stone. It was of a person who stood tall and hold the tip of his sword on the stone below himself with the other hand on his side as if to show superiority. Below the statue of the man was a rectangular platform of stone with a sign on it that read 'Humanity's savior and true god. Herobrine.'
The man the statue depicted was Drake. He was in the clothing he got at the hatchery, his hood down and even his partially dismembered Enderman ear was slightly visible in the stone likeness of him. The details were almost horrifyingly precise, from his clothing to his hair and facial compilation. The bags under his eyes, the separation between his human and Enderman half, the cold, lifeless gaze in his eyes, and that crooked grin that never failed to make my spine shiver.
Armen stared at it, slowly beginning to approach it. He was unblinking and his mouth hung open as if the statue was trapping him in a trance. I could tell that he was remembering the old days when he and Drake were practically inseparable, and I could see the tears welling up in his eyes and his chest rising and falling at a faster pace. I began snapping my fingers in front of his face to snap him out of it, not being able to risk him an episode caused by his post traumatic stress in the middle of the city.

I whispered so no one other than him could hear. "Armen, relax. It's alright. Now come on. Let's focus on the mission so we can get this gross blood soaked armor off of us."

He blinked and snapped out of his thoughts. He looked to me, then back to the statue and mumbled. "Yeah. You're right."

We walked around the statue, walking further into the city. The screaming, rattling chains, and sounds of lashing whips continued to echo in our surroundings. Torches were mounted on walls with light posts that had flickering flames to light up the streets. There was a smell of dust and sweat in the air from the constant work put on the many slaves. I wondered where those slaves came from and what lives did they have before they were condemned to this fate.
We looked around at the slaves, watching them being pushed and whipped. The clothes on their bodies were thin and filled with tears that revealed bleeding scars and welts on their fragile skin. Each and everyone of them looked miserable and some appeared horrified and mortified from what they had been through. The suffering left a heavy pressure in the atmosphere that weighed us down like gravity.

"This is sad and...just wrong!" I said.

Armen, who was trailing a bit behind me, replied. "I know. The cultist treat these people like tools. It's sickening. I've known the cultists for doing this but...with how much power they have now... I just never thought that it would get this bad." We looked around and listened, taking in the suffering around us.

We both saw one man getting whipped, his screams piercing into my ears and memories. Then the image, that gruesome scene. I will never be able to unsee it. The whip had long iron spikes attached to the end, each lash ripping away chunk of the man's flesh. We both shook our heads and turned away, trying to block out the screaming. There was nothing we could do without the likelihood of compromising our mission, and by doing that we would be further behind in getting rid of Herobrine.

"We should probably see if we can find Daniel and Mason. They'll most likely come up from one of the wells." Armen suggested in order to strip our attention away from the tortured slaves.

I shook my head. "It's most likely they'll come up somewhere in the east since the beginning of the lake that the city gets water from in that direction. We don't have time to look for them."

For a moment we were silent until Armen brought up a question. "Why are you so eager to finish this mission? I mean, usually you're more adventurous and fun."

I turned on the balls of my feet to face him, making him stop in his tracks. I answered. "Because I need to avenge Sylvia! I need to kill that monster and end...this!" I gestured to a flock of slaves, treated like useless livestock.

I sighed and calmed myself down. "I just want all of this madness to end as soon as possible. And know that just because I'm with Endy now, doesn't mean that I don't want that demon to get what it deserves for killing Sylvia...and Drake. Besides, Grayson is right. Who knows how much time we have before the empire is attacked by him. If we don't stop him soon, we're all as good as dead."

I continued forward with Armen following behind. Most of the cultist were tending to the slaves, with others sitting around and casually talking or getting buzzed on alcohol as they chatted to each other. I still hated that smell and the way they acted while impaired, making me glad that I never touched that stuff whenever I considered it. Each and every one of the Herobrine worshippers wore black, some with red or white to accompany the dark color. Judging from my time of spying on these guys, the ones who wore white were of higher ranking, most of them being priest.
We were close to the palace, with a perfect view of it visible in the darkness. It was massive, with two giant statues on each side of the building that depicted angels with folded wings and each holding swords with the tips aimed to the ground. The towers stretched high into the air, the two on the sides coming to a point while the one in the middle, which was the tallest, was rounded at the very top with red bricks. It had two upper level gardens above the doorway and a pathway way leading up to it with hedges and plants arching above it. Some of the walls had plants overgrown on them and some of the many windows were shattered.
I looked to Armen as he admired the architecture. The place was not as grand as the palace at the Northern empire, but grand nonetheless. The angel statues were a nice touch. I saw him beginning to sweat, his pale and black skin beginning to shine with moisture. I saw him swallow a lump in his throat, though it was hard to make out with the mask and turtle neck from his black clothes blending in with the darkness of the sky. Luckily the light from the flames of torches were brightening the place up.

"So... Do you think we can actually finish all of this now? I mean...do you think we will finally be able to end Herobrine? To finally save Drake?"

I sighed and turned away, looking up at the castle. I shook my head, wishing I could say that I did, but I did not want to say anything that I was not positive about. "I wish I could say that I do."

My eyes scanned the palace once more, nodding my head and taking in a deep breath to prepare myself. "Okay. Let's go in a split up to cover more ground."

We both looked at the doorway, watching as cultists came and went. Armen nodded in agreement and we both walked down the pathway to enter the temple.

Armen's point of view-

Once we got inside, we split up to cover more ground. Xavier said that he would cover the first floor, so I went up to the second floor. Most of the interior of the building was in ruin, with parts of the floors crumbled away with vines hanging down from the ceiling and rafters. I had to be very careful as I walked around, avoiding massive holes in the floor and getting tangled in vines or spiderwebs, or tripping on debris. Herobrine and the cult really did a number to this place. I tried hard not to walk into any sticky webs, but I ended up walking straight into one, squirming around to get it off and hoping that no spider was crawling up my body.
Occasionally I would see armor stands with rotting flesh and places for rituals with the floor stained in blood and cauldrons full of thick red liquid. There were bones scattered and a ritual circle in one of the rooms. The smell was putrid and I was throwing up in my mouth. I should have been used to that kind of stuff after everything that I had seen, but you can never truly get used to that horror. This place was truly grotesquely sick.
I walked over to one of the windows as I heard a woman screaming. The cultist were tending to slaves, preparing them to go down into the mines. A woman around her twenties or so was being whipping, the end covered in spikes that tore and ripped her flesh. She fell to her knees, dropping her pick axe. Her face was covered in dirt and tears, her revealing clothes turned to rags and her hair a knotted mess. I snarled as I put my hands on the bottom of the window frame, my fist tightening around the stone.
I could not take that. I would not stand for it! Yet I could not do anything that would draw attention to me, meaning that the only thing I could do was... Using the darkness to my advantage, I made a shadow tendril run up the leg of the man who was whipping the woman. He could not feel it as the shadow wrapped around his throat, clueless until I began to make it constrict around his neck. I watched as he dropped the whip and held onto his own neck as he searched for what was suffocating him, but he clutched to nothing but his own skin. He dropped to his knees and tried to call out but I prevented it. I felt no remorse for the man, squeezing his neck until I finally snapped his spine and let him slowly die. I let the shadow release him and drift back to where it belonged.
The woman stood up as the cultist around began to swarm the dead man. I did not have time to see what happened next when my blood chilled as a voice called out from behind me.
I spun around and saw a cultist standing there, draped in a black cloak. He had dark eyes with black hair pulled back. I could sense that he had mana, meaning that he was a magic user. Underneath his cloak was a sheathed sword with his hand wrapped around the handle, yet he did not attack. He simply lowered his brows and examined me, myself turning my head away as my heart pounded with anxiety.

  "What are you doing up here? Judging by your attire, you're on guard duty at the walls or a messenger."

I spoke with a bit of a stutter. "I-I'm a messenger. I have not received any information to deliver so I figured that I would admire the temple and make it more pleasant for our lord." I wanted to throw up for calling Herobrine a lord.

He seemed to buy it, his eyes looking around the large room. He looked disappointed, probably knowing that I had not done anything or thinking that I just did not do much. His back straightened and ears perked up as he listened to the noise outside. He walked over to the window and leaned his head out to see what all of the noise was about.

  "What's going on out here?"

I heard him gasp as he looked at the dead body that others were beginning to drag away. He spun around and faced me, his calm face turning into one of anger. I stepped back as he stepped forward and leaned. His brows were lowered, myself noticing his brown eyes had a tint of red in the glare of faint moonlight.

  "You must have seen it! What happened?"

I tried to think up of a lie. "I don't know! I didn't see anything. He just collapsed!"

He did not seem to buy it. His head tilted slightly as his brows lowered. I stepped back once again before his hand suddenly shot up and grabbed my mask. He forced it down, stretching it out before he let go of. I pushed him away as he stared at me, then he lit his hands up in red electricity. I stared at him, finally letting him get a good view of my face, and I knew that he recognized me.

  "H-hey!"

I tried to draw my sword but he struck me before I could. I screamed and jolted as the electricity coursed through my body, electrocuting me. I could feel my heart race until it was at the same rate as a normal humans, then excelled that rate. Pain filled my body as I nearly went into a paralyzed state, but by sheer force of will of the body, I drew my sword and swung at his own before he could stab me and finish the job.
The shockwave travel down my blade, causing him to let go of his sword as I struck it. It hit the wall and clattered onto the stone. I screamed again as I drove my sword into his chest and struck him with a blast of plasma. He fell over and shook from the plasma before his heart stopped and he bled out. My breath came out raspy as my body trembled violently and twitch as I fell to my knees. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, waiting to recover. As the presence of the spell warded off, I huffed and pulled up my mask, forcing myself to my feet and left before anyone else who heard my screams of pain had the opportunity to find us.
...

Xavier's point of view-

I peered around the corner as I watched the two cultist walk into the dark chapel. The chapel had crosses of broken red stained glass with a few rows of long seats designed for multiple people to sit on, ruby red carpet, and a stage with podium for a preacher to preach behind. There was a pentagram painted on the wall in what appeared to be blood. One of the cultists that I was following was wearing a black and white robe while the other wore red and black armor. From what I could pick up from the two, the one in white was a priest of Herobrine and the one in red was his guard. I still could never understand why the cult needed priest when they were all so devoted to that demon and had no true necessary purpose for them as far as I was concerned.
I watched them enter the chapel and saw the one in armor go up onto the stage. He walked up a few steps then went over to the podium and bent down, opening a small compartment. I could barely see it, but he had pulled open a small door that was barely visible from my point of view, but I was smart enough to know. I gasped then shut my mouth as the ground began to descend to reveal a hidden corridor. The floor lowered to create steps down into the place lit with the dim light of torches mounted against the walls. I watched as they both went down, then I quickly but quietly ran behind them with light footsteps and slipped in before the floor came back up and locked us in from the outside.
My eyes locked onto the two men as they walked along, their footsteps echoing off of the enclosed stone arched walls. I began to follow them, walking on my toes to limit the sounds I made and matching up my feet with the priest so they could not differentiate my footsteps from their own.
Staying cautious and alert, I quickened my pace, staying low as I drew my chakram as quickly as I could. I snuck up behind the guard and lifted up the green blade to the back of his back as I reached my hand around and placed it against his mouth, muffling his scream as I used my weapon to slash open his back from his left side, to his right side. The priest pulled out his own concealed weapon from underneath his cloak, a small silver blade with a handle and the sharp blade itself being about a foot long. He tried to swipe at me, but I pushed the body I held against him. Before he could recover, I grabbed his small sword and stabbed him in the bottom of his jaw with it. They both fell limp to the bloody ground covered in red.
I took my cape and cleaned the blood off of my weapon as I stared at their bodies, making sure that they did not get up. My eyes grew slightly as they rested on a small object on the priest's belt that appeared to be made of rusted metal. I kneeled down and looked over it, realizing that it was a key. I thought that it must have been important, so I took it off of his belt and put it into one of my pockets around my waist that my armor thankfully did not cover from reach. I did not know why I thought the key had importance, but as a spy, I had to think of every possible outcome to each decision I make, so I had to take it just to be sure. I looked to their bodies one last time before gazing down the dark, dust filled corridor lit up by torch light. I did not see nor hear anyone approaching, so I left the bodies there to rot and continued on through the crypt.
As I walked further down, the walls grew and allowed more room for me to walk. I eventually reached a large room with six columns, three on each side of the room. Tapestries were hung up on the stone walls with images painted onto old cloth. One had an image of what appeared to be a farmer back in the old days, then another appeared to depict a ship being attacked late at night. The drawings resembled ones like in Egypt which was an old country that fell to Herobrine and disappeared from existence centuries ago.
The tapestries got more elaborate the closer I got to the old stone door at the end of the room. One showed a man wielding a staff with powerful magic, another showing that man taking down a foe and his enemy's attacking army. Yet another tapestry depicted a soul leaving a body and transforming into dark smoke that I assumed was a spirit becoming corrupted; turning into a Nightmare. The thought of it only brought back memories of Luke and Sylvia. Armen had told me that because Sylvia died to the hands of Herobrine, she to had been corrupted and turned into one of those monsters. I did not want to kill Herobrine just for revenge and to save others, but to free my best friend and my former wife from being bound to hatred and set their souls free.
At the end of the room on both sides of the wall, were more drawings upon withering cloth. The first that I looked at was one that depicted Herobrine on top of a temple with men bowing down to his deceitful glory. Above him with a strange winged object that was set ablaze. I turned my head to look upon the last tapestry hung up on the wall, lowering my brow as I took it in. The drawings were nothing like what I had seen before.
From what I could understand, the images above were people holding a sacrifice, but below that was what raised my curiosity. It was a black rectangle with purple on the inside and darker purple swirls. The entire piece of fabric was stained red as if it were covered in stale blood that soaked into the material.

  "What is that?" I asked myself despite not having an answer.

I could not understand what it was that was shown in the drawing but I knew that it had some connection with the cult and Herobrine. It had to be. I looked over my shoulders to see if anyone was there, but I appeared that was still alone. Good. My head turned and looked back to the pictures then I shook my head.

  Focus on the mission. You can take this back to Grayson, but first you have to see what's behind this door.

My focus shifted to the door that had chains around it and a lock in the center. The cultist must desperately not want anyone beyond their faith to go through that door. I looked over my shoulder and made sure that the coast was clear before I pulled out the key I had required from the dead priest. Perhaps this could open it. My gaze shifted back to the lock, trying to mentally figure out rather it would fit or not. Only one way to find out.
I placed the key into the lock and turned it, my ears perking up to sound of a loud click. The lock popped open, then I stepped back as the lock and chains fell to the floor with a loud series of clangs. I looked over my shoulder and waited for others to come after hearing that loud noise, but no one seemed to approach my location, much to my relief. I took in a deep inhale as I stepped forward, the stone door descending into the ground. The room was dark, pitch black in fact. If only Armen were here since he was fairly well at seeing in the dark thanks to his Nightmare half. I hoped that the lad was doing alright.
I took a torch that was mounted on one of the pillars in the room and stepped into the darkness. I waved the torch around to see more, but as I stepped inside I heard a click beneath my feet. A pressure plate. The darkness thickened as I stup around on my heels, only to see the door rise up and close behind me, sealing me in the stuffy cryptic confinement. I was quick to accept the fact, turning around as the room began slightly brighter. Torches began to light the cold stone room as if my presence had triggered them to light with fire. The room became slightly warmer but it remained cold for the time being.
I looked around as I lowered my mask and blew out the torch in my hand, disposing of the unnecessity and dropping it after the flame and embers were completely extinguished. I put my mask back up just incase someone else were to walk in. The room was filled with small tables covered with glass cases to preserve artifacts inside. Some held scrolls and armor while others held weapons that appeared to be quite powerful and strong.
I was filled with uneasiness and a strong pressure in my chest. This entire place did not feel right, but it felt important. It was tempted to take the weapons and armor that I saw, but one thing caught my eye more than the rest of the old artifacts. It was a book that in the center of the room, one with many pages that were yellowing and crumbling. I could only assume that's withering pages was filled with holes. The leather front cover and spine was peeling away and tearing. It looked hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years old. It was a miracle that the thing was still intact and not a pile of dust.
I walked over to it, listening to my light footsteps as the sound echoed against the walls. The leather cover had an old rusty latch on it with a keyhole. I reached out and grabbed the glass box on top of the table, attempting to lift it up but it was locked in place. Smashing the glass was not too much of an option since it will be too loud and might alert any cultist wandering the corridors. Instead, I pulled out my sword and placed it against the side of the glass. I began to drag the tip in a circular formation, a loud and irritating sound howling out as I cut through the thick glass. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, paranoid that someone would come up behind me and see what I was doing.
Once I was able to cut a large enough circle, which was a bit more of an oval to allow me to pull the book out better, I reached in and grabbed the book. I pulled the book out and held it against my chest as I spun around to face the doorway. The coast was still clear, allowing me to breathe out in relief. My gaze moved down to the thick book in my hands, my eyes scanning it.
I pulled at the cover and tried to get it opened, hoping that the latch was not actually locked by some great miracle. Unfortunately my bad luck still lingered as I jiggled it but the cover remained locked with the pages tightly concealed.
I growled, losing my patience and temper.

  "I don't have time to look for another key!"

I raised up my sword and precisely brought it down upon the side of the latch. I repeatedly hit it in hopes that the thing would break off. After a few slashes, I saw the metal tilt and rip away from the front to back cover that kept me from seeing the secrets on the pages inside. I began to become more hopeful, smiling as I brought down one last hit. The pleasing sound of ripping and metal hitting the floor flooded into my ears. I watched as the latch ripped away from the rest of the foundation and fell to the stone ground beneath my feet.
I gasped, my eyes growing as I flipped the book over to look at the cover that was now more torn. I could feel my heart racing with anticipation to see what was inside, although I did consider the possibility that it's contents would be better left not seen by my own eyes since it was in the cults possession and probably had disturbing information on sacrificing or other things such as that. Despite the unsettling probability, it was my job to look through everything to make sure that I did not miss anything valuable to our goal.
With a mixture of hesitance and excitement, I took hold of the cover and a few pages, opening the book and skipping ahead a few pages. Just as I had suspected, there were a few missing pages with holes here and there. There was an occasional drawing in black ink and splatters of red that I knew was not red ink. There were pictures of tall buildings and kingdoms that appeared to be prosperous. There were different chapters with different years and names.

  "Age one fifty one-" There was a large hole torn away that prevented me from finishing the sentence.

I flipped a few more of the pages and continued reading. On the right side of the page was a picture like what I saw on the tapestry outside of the room. It had Herobrine on top on a temple like structure with men bowing down to him. The humans appeared barbaric and uncivilized with poor, small cloths to cover their bodies.

  "Year 1202, The uprising. In the year 1202 there was a land called Bargeld. Bargeld was a land of tribal savages. The leader of the savage tribe was able to single handedly invade the lands of Minecraftia. There were five kingdoms. Ironmere, one of the strongest, Whiteriver, Algeria, the strongest. The weakest were Silverridge, Arma, and Armada."

I remembered Armada. It was a city down in the upper south of the region but it was destroyed by Herobrine hundreds or thousands of years ago. I did not really know when it was destroyed, but it had only been completely taken over by cultists this past year. As my eyes scanned the page, the pressure in my chest only grew heavier.

  "They were destroyed by the armies of a man come to be known as Herobrine." Reading the very name sent a chill down my back.

I read how he burned every man, woman, and child alive as they invaded Armada. When Herobrine planned to destroy Silverridge, they begged for help but went unheeded. Their kingdom eventually fell with refugees flooding into the other kingdoms. The kingdoms yet to be destroyed tried to defeat Herobrine's armies at the valley of Stonehenge, but they failed and were all destroyed in the end. I supposed that that was the origins of the cult of Herobrine.
I flipped to the next chapter as a few of the other pages were lost. There was a picture of a sword and despite the picture being in black and white, it looked somewhat familiar. I read through what seemed to be ingredients and instructions. A blade made of gold and manyullyn, enchanted with the blood of a witch. I recalled Grayson telling me something about that and how a sword made of that material was capable of injuring Herobrine. It was supposed to turn him mortal, but obviously that failed.
I flipped to the next page, staring down at a picture. It resembled one that I had seen outside of the room, the one with that strange rectangular object. My eyes scanned the page, seeing the words 'Nether portal.' Wasn't the Nether another way to address to h**l?
I turned to the next page and a saw a picture. A picture of three objects. Were those...the sacred diamonds? I began to read more, seeing three names that I recognized instantly. Armen, Grayson, and Drake.
Suddenly an intense pain spiked in my head, causing me to drop the book and scream. I feel to my knees as my eyes teared up, my hands raising up and clinging to my scalp. My vision blurred and for a moment all I saw was red. The pain began to slowly fade, tears still in my eyes. I breathed in and out heavily until it became steady once again, pulling down my mask to get fresher air. What was that about? I've never had a headache like that. Something about it...it was ominous and wrong, almost as if it was not natural.
I grabbed the book and stood back up to my feet, carefully opening it again and trying to get back onto the page I was on. I wiped the tears from my eyes, an irritating pressure remaining in my skull.

  "You should not be in here!" A voice suddenly shouted out from behind me, causing me to slam the book shut and look up.

I stared into the eyes of a cultist in black and white, but because he was armed, I knew that he was no religious priest like most of the others who were able to wear white. He stared at me with an intense gaze as he drew out a long sword and let out an unsettling giggle. He must have been smart and observant based on the next words that he spoke.

  "So you're the spy that's been killing everyone tonight. The blood on the walls, the bodies down the hall over there. You've caused quite a stir."

I growled and pulled out my sword as I slipped the book into my satchel. I swirled the blade around in attempts to show him that I was fairly skilled with a blade, then placed one foot out and turned my body, taking my sword in a tight grip and taking my stance. The blood faded from my face and my grin disappeared for a moment when four others joined behind him.

  "You're going to pay for what you've done, and die for finding our secrets."

  "Your fault for putting all your secrets in a book in the first place." His face twisted with anger as he snarled.

I swallowed a lump in my throat as I took in deep breaths. It was not like I had never been out numbered before. I had won many battles by myself when I was up against multiple opponents. If these guys do not have high level magic, then I should be fine. Then one of the men in the back stepped forward, his arm shooting up and glowing with a dark red energy. My limbs suddenly began to feel heavier and heavier, causing my arms to fall to my sides and make me drop the book and my sword.
My body was pulled down by increased gravity, falling to my knees then to my chest, now laying flat against the stone ground. I tried to endure it and push myself back up, but I was barely able to move as the spell was cast upon me. I was struggling to breathe and felt my blood rushing down in body as the gravity continued to pull at me, almost dragging my insides to press against the floor. I struggled and tried with all of my strength to get up, but I could barely lift up my elbow before it slammed back onto the ground.
I looked over to the book and tried to reach for it, once again failing. A pair of feet stepped into my line of vision, my hair and hood impairing most of my sight  as the gravity pulled them down as well. The man standing before me, who wore black and white, lifted up his sword and pointed towards my head, smiling that I was down and practically defenceless. I did not care about my life and if it was ended right then, but as I looked to the book, I thought of what information it held and how it might have been the world's redemption from the white eyed demon. If no one on the side of good could get the information in that book, then we might never defeat Herobrine and save thousands or perhaps millions of lives.

In that desperate moment, I did the only thing I could think of. Call out for help. "Armen!"
...

Armen's point of view-

I ran down the stairs down to the first floor. Other people had to have heard our fight since I screamed out loud when I was shocked with high voltage from the man's magic. At least it somehow did not kill me, then again I am technically half dead already. I was starting to panic with rising paranoia. My balled up anxiety spilled over inside of me, leaving me constantly looking over my shoulders and looking out for impending danger. I clenched my hands as they became jittery, trying to calm myself down. Don't do this Armen. Not now. Not without a reason. Just relax.
I reached the bottom of the staircase, stopping as I saw multiple people standing there in my way. They all must have heard the commotion above and were waiting to find out what was going on. For a moment I had forgotten how creepy and strange the cultist appeared and much their believes altered what otherwise good people they could have been. Sometimes I look at them and see sick, twisted animals that have gone astray and feral. Other times I remember that theses were only people who believed what they were told and what they felt that they needed to belive in order to survive.
Then I remembered the horrors I had seen while I was possessed and turned into a monster. It was not only my own hands that killed and literally tore people apart, but theses monsters in the skin of human beings were also present, slaughtering innocent people instead of doing what was right. They are not just lead astray, but they are cowards for choosing this path, to kill to save their and force themselves to believe that Herobrine was their savior in order own skin.
I growled as the man stood before me, my eyes looking over six of them. A few of them drew their swords and katanas, but I stood there unfazed. I felt no fear or need for caution, only anger and hatred that would have otherwise left me completely numb if those feelings did not linger within me.
My hand engulfed in cyan energy mixed with black thanks to my shadow magic. They all prepared their stance as I stood there with my hand held up to the side of my head. My eyelids drooped, knowing that I was giving them a stare that made me appear that I gave no sh*ts about them and honestly I could not care less. I did not care about them and slaughtering them would only be a great pleasure.
They all charged and closed the distance between us. I stood there and waited for the right moment until they were finally close enough for comfort. With a swift swing of my right arm from right to left, I sent out a wave of energy and fire almost like plasma but all the more painful and deadly. The wave of magic shot out from my hand in a flat arc, growing bigger as it traveled towards my foes. They were all struck, screaming and falling back onto the ground. I did not wait long to see if any of them were still alive. I left the darkness rise and eat away at my physical form, letting my body become heavy and melt into the darkness.
Not too long after, I reemerged by the chapel, getting this scratching feeling that Xavier was close by. I clutched my chest, watching my armor darken as my Nightmare side worsened. The burning pain rose up within my body until my knees nearly gave out, but I remained standing. Once the pain faded, I shook my head and inhaled through my nose before slowly letting it back out through my mouth.
I walked in, looking around at the design and destroyed architecture that Herobrine and the cultists had brought with their conquest of this place so long ago. I kind of reminded me of the church of Notch back in Iron Mere except a lot bigger and more...crimson and in ruin. The memories of that day or night or whatever time it was brought this aching feeling to my chest.
It was a day filled with fear and stress, but it was also one of the last times when I felt truly happy inside. When I was with Drake and we reunited with Grayson. Everything was always stressing and crazy for us but somehow, it felt like everything was a lot simpler before then. Before we entered that city and before I became this "chosen one" who became a martyr in vain. Before I was possessed and tortured and before I watched so many people die in front of me, including my own brother who did everything he could to save me, including giving up his freedom and life.

"Armen!" A very faint call snapped me out of my thoughts. I could barely hear it, sounding like a buzzing in my ears that I nearly shrugged off, until I heard it again.

I looked around incase it was just some bug flying around until I took it in. It sounded like someone calling out my name. No. Not just someone. Xavier...
I looked up at the stage, my Nightmare half allowing me to hear a lot better. It was like the sound was coming from below the state. I remembered back at the church in Iron Mere and how a secret passageway was hidden beneath the stage. What if this was just like that?
I huffed and decided to figure it out myself. A black aura seeped from my body, the transparent darkness bellowing around my being. Once again I turned my body into a mass of shadows despite knowing the consequences if I used my abilities too much, and at this point I already was using them too much. That doesn't matter. My friend might need my help and I refuse to take this risk of not checking it out and risking letting him get killed.
...

Third person point of view-

The man picked up the book from the ground, opening it with one hand. His eyes scanned through the pages. Did these people really believe that they could kill their master; an immortal god? He laughed, looking back down at the spy who was rendered immobile. He chuckled at him, a grin spreading on his face.

  "Do you really think that you could win this? You see, we know things that you don't. Lord Herobrine can not be killed nor stopped no matter your efforts. He is our creator and destroyer. He controls time itself! And the one that you call your god...he's too much of a coward to descend from heaven and end what you all think is madness. He's powerless against the true God; Lord Herobrine!"

Xavier rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Keep believing that bull. You're living in a fantasy."

  "And you're in denial. You've seen His power. Seeing is believing my wayward friend."

Xavier choked out, the gravity causing his chest to push painfully against the floor and prevented him from taking in enough oxygen, "You're not my fr-friend!"

The man with the book circled around him, putting his blade on the spy's back, between the back of his abdomen and chest, slowly digging the tip in as he made his way around. Xavier cringed and hissed in pain as it ripped his flesh and spun around, cutting into the top layer of his muscles. The cultist finally stopped, getting down on one knee in front of Xavier's face that had become a deep red.

The man shut the book, leaning his head down, his rancid smelling breath causing Xavier to gag. "No one shall know the secrets of our lord other than those who devote their lives to him... Now, who was that you were calling for? Armen is what I heard."

The spy once again growled, gasping to breathe. What was he thinking? Calling out for Armen when he was underground and the boy was probably long out of earshot? It was was just a hopeful but pointless effort. Well, it was an attempt at least. He made it this far...but it was not good enough. He cared not about death but he did not want to die now. He wanted to live to his daughter's eighth birthday that was approaching. He wanted to tell Endy that he loved her and remarry if she would allow. Most importantly, he wanted to see a world free from Herobrine's terror.

The cultist continued with his rambling, irritating Xavier but at least it was delaying his death. "Some of us used to call master "Armenbrine" since it was prophesied that Armen was the name of his vessel. Well, his former vessel I should say."

A voice coming from behind the other cultists cut him off. "You guys talking about me?"

Armen stood there, his sword drawn and head tilted, casting an ominous shadow over his face from his raven hair and hood. He pulled down his mask, revealing his face that was ghostly pale on one side and completely black on the other. Xavier had never been so relieved to hear his voice, but he was not out of the water just yet since there was still the tip of a blade digging into his back. Despite the pain and his struggle to breathe right, a sigh of relief fled from his lungs. Armen held up his sword and let cyan and slightly black colored magic run up his arm, flaring and flickering against his limb.
Then, all of the opposing foes charged with weapons and magic ready. Armen held up his sword as the first man swung at him, swiftly parrying the blow. He attacked each of them with swift agility, sustaining small cuts. The last two he easily took out with two blasts of flames to their faces. The two fell to the floor, screaming and howling in agony as the flames ate away at their flesh. Eventually they became limp and silent, their life forces fading away.
Xavier struggled to move as the cultist above him was distracted by Armen. The man was baffled by not only his Nightmare side, but by the fact that Herobrine's formal vessel was still alive. He snarled as he watched Armen approaching, his blood pressure rising.

  "I'm impressed. Then again, you were once master's puppet so you must have learned so much! I'm surprised that you would turn against us after seeing his true greatness."

Armen giggled in pity, pulling down his hood. "No. You could not be further from the truth. I was never like you and if you knew half of the stuff that I do, what I've been through, you would see you're precious god as the monster he truly is."

Xavier finally got his fingertips to brush against the handle of his sword discarded on the floor. The cultist broke away from his conversation with Armen, looking down at his captive held down by his magic. He tsked as his eyes saw Xavier moving ever so slowly, somehow almost able to grab his weapon. Almost. He lifted the sword off of Xavier's back, giving the spy brief relief.
Suddenly, the cultist brought his sword down and stabbed into the chestnut's hand. It pierced straight through, causing him to scream out in complete agony as blade rooted his hand to the floor. With the increased gravity around him, his blood pooled around his hand faster than normal, making him nauseous as he laid there with tears falling from his eyes and gasping for air as he shook with pain.

  "Xavier!" Armen screamed.

Before the Nightmare hybrid could react, the cultist waved his arm in an arc, a wave of red light firing out from his fingers and sliced the air like the thin blade of a knife. It shot towards Armen, hitting him with such force and magic power that it caused a large break in his armor, leaving a long slash that revealed his ripped undershirt and bleeding chest. He flew back from the force of impact, falling and colliding the ground next to the lifeless bodies of his former prey.
Armen pushed himself back to his feet, groaning as he grabbed his aching shoulder, not bothering to look down upon his wound. Instead he let his eyes rest upon the sword that he had dropped before colliding with the ground. His eyes bulged as he saw another wave of red fire speeding towards his body. As quickly as he could react, he formed a shield in front of himself, the colors of transparent cyan and black dancing around like rippling water. The blast hit his magic shield, both of the magic used to attack and to defend shattering and fading into the cold air around the Nightmare hybrid.
Armen's eyes fell down to look at his friend held down to the floor, his blood continuing to seep from his hand that still had a blade straight through the middle. It was impossible for the metal to not have cut straight through a vein. The boy huffed as his gaze moved up to the cultist, watching as he prepared another spell while also keeping his spell on Xavier to hold him down.
His body was suddenly filled with an overwhelming pressure, his body feeling pulled down. He tried to resist, but his limbs were tugged until he could no longer endure the pressure and collapsed, knocking the wind out of his lungs as his chest hit the stone floor.
He gasped and coughed, grunting in pain and struggling to regain his breath. He could hear the man laughing and Xavier's heavy breathing induced by stress to his chest and the pain from the blade through his hand. The guy could never seem to avoid getting himself in trouble...while he was usually amazingly skilled at his job, he did get hurt on occasion mainly due to his reckless behavior but this time he was just caught off guard for the first time in a long while.

The cultist in black and white laughed, mocking the two. "You call yourselves spies?! I expected more from the great Northern empire! I'm disappointed honestly, but you Armen...I have such curiosity about you."

Armen heard his footsteps approaching him after hearing his friend groan and a sound that he assumed was the cultist removing his sword from Xavier's flesh. He tried to shift his head so he could look at the vile man's face but it was too much of a challenge as his face pressed against the floor and caused him to need to close his left eye.

  "You not only got to live after being a vessel, but you also appeared to have some physical changes such as that darkness on your body. Fascinating. You also possess an aura like one of the lord's minions that you may know as Nightmares."

Armen clawed at the ground beneath himself, trying to move and crawl from the spells grasp. How had they never encountered this kind of magic before? He were they supposed to break free from it? How could he find a way to reverse gravity...or not need gravity at all? He made a slight gasp as a plan sparked in his head, hoping that it would help accomplish his goal of escaping from this trap.
He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tried to relax his limited breath. He felt himself melt, the gravity pushing him down making the process faster. His flesh, and bones, and, clothing, and hair all were surrounded by a black aura before he turned completely dark and faded into the darkness. The cultist made a swing with his bade, hearing the metal slam into the stone floor as Armen vanished, becoming one with the shadows around them.
Without a physical form to hold down, Armen was able to swiftly move through the darkness and break free from the spell. The cultist's eyes darted around, searching for his prey that had vanished into the black. His ears perked up as a strange sound came from behind him, one that sounded like...a Nightmare. He spun around and held up his sword once again, his eyes resting on the figure standing in the doorway.

"Armen?" Xavier said, momentarily getting his head to lift up as the cultist lost focus on him. He gasped at the sight of him standing there, his head down and fist clenched.

Armen stood in the doorway between his friend and his foe. The black aura remained emitted around his skinny body, his foot back and his spine curving slightly at the top as he got into a stance and prepared to attack once more. His eyes had a slight glow, rimmed with a light purple glow, the glow to the eyes of an angry Nightmare. The boy opened his mouth painfully wide and screamed, his screech inhuman. It was a terrifying high pitch screech that shook the room until the ceiling let dust fall. It was the exact same nearly deafening scream of a Nightmare.
The cultist covered his ears and screamed as the pain proceeded to fill his ears. Xavier screamed as well, unable to cover his ears and block out the horribly loud sound. Their eardrums popped and were nearly at the point of bleeding. The cultist fell to his knees and screamed until Armen finally stopped but was unable to hear a sound beyond the ringing that rattled his brain and echoed from his sore ears.
As he tried to recover, he did not notice he darkness rise up his body and travel down his arms, ensnaring them both so that the boy controlling the shadow tendrils could also control the man like a broken marionette. The man gasped in fright as his lifted up his sword against his will, arms trembling as he tried to regain control over his two limbs, but he he could not. The tip of the blade moved to his chest, his breathing becoming fast, heavy and staggered as sweat dripped from his pores.

"Pl-please...h-have mercy!" He begged.

Armen shook his head, his gaze cold. "Why? Just pray to your so called 'god' to rescue you."

The cultist smiled, quickly dropping his deceit and chuckled quietly, then Xavier began coughing and struggling to breathe even more, now unable to take in a breath at all as his lungs compressed. Armen growled, knowing the that the cultist was now crushing his friend with his spell. Before he could do anymore damage, he forced the man to thrust the blade into his own chest. He coughed up blood, his eyes wide as he chocked before his eyes moved up into his head and  his body fell back limp. There was feeling of bliss when Armen felt his life force slip and fade away. He felt no guilt, only pleasure in his death and a seething anger that suddenly emerged from the depths of his emotions.
Xavier took in a deep gasp as the pressure around his body finally eased and returned to normal.  He pushed himself up, pulling down his mask before he began coughing loudly with saliva flying from his mouth. He gasped, his ears continuing to ring from Armen's scream attack. He picked himself up and dusted off his knees and chest, running his fingers from his unwounded hand through his hair afterwards.

  "Thanks lad." He said it quite loud, almost unable to hear his own voice.

He flinched and hissed, grabbing his hand that had been pierced. He groaned, shutting his eyes tight as he applied pressure to open injury. His blood continued to drip down onto the stone, tears still remaining in his eyes and staining his pale face. Armen shook his head, his anger fading as he remembered his friend's problem. He spun around and faced the green eyed widow.

"You alright?"

Xavier still could not hear him with the ringing in his ears, but he saw Armen's lips move. He hissed through his teeth, "I can't hear with this ringing in my ears but I'm going to assume that you asked if I am alright. Yeah, I'm just peachy!"

Armen opened his mouth to give a remark, but he suddenly groaned in pain, his hands lifting up and covering his face. The ringing in the more professional spy's ears finally faded, himself shaking his head and stepping closer to Armen as the boy hissed in pain. He lowered his hands, Xavier stepping back as shock spiked within him but only for a split moment. He had expected this to happen sooner or later.  The darkness on Armen's face was now more than halfway spread across his face, the black swirling and going and under his eye like a crescent moon. The black faded into his pale skin, the two colors mixing before becoming separate. The glow remained in his eyes, beginning to dim and let his eyes return to normal.

The chestnut haired man sighed. "I told you not to use your abilities. It's gotten worse."

The raven haired rolled his eyes. "We both would have died if I had not used my power, genius."

Xavier shrugged before hissing in pain again. His hand tightened around the injured one, trying to slow the bleeding as the red continued to drip to the floor at a fast pace. Armen looked down at the wound, knowing that it needed to be tended to quickly to stop the bleeding and to prevent an infections from setting in.
He reached into his satchel that had like Xavier's, pulling out a roll of bandages and a needle and thread, getting onto his knees before he pulled out a rag and ointment to prevent infiltration. He told Xavier to get down, the spy compiling. Armen pulled off his glove, bringing a slight pain to the father as the material grazed his open wound. He knew that a vein had been sliced open and a bone was definitely broken. Unfortunately, they had nothing to help with broken bone or internal bleeding. They could only do what they could and hope for the best.
Armen looked down at his hand, cringing at the sight of the ground as he looked straight down through the wound. He took in a deep breath as he cleaned the skin around the sight of injury and moving his hand to make sure that the bone was in place.

"Fu-" Xavier bit his lip hard, trying hard not to swear so he would not get into the habit of it. He wanted to set some good example for his child back home.

Next, Armen stitched up what he could, feeling Xavier struggling to not move a muscle during the painful process. All they were worried about was the split open vein, unsure on if it could heal itself. Armen pulled out a health potion in a small glass vile, handing it to his comrade. He hoped that it would help in some way. He opened it up, letting Xavier take it with his good hand and quickly swallowed the liquid down. It did bring a slight relief, feeling as if the internal bleeding had stopped. Blood still dripped from passed the stitches, but not as much. As he thanked him, Armen wrapped his hand up to his wrist in white bandages instantly stained red.

"Do we have anything make a sling with?" The Mage asked, looking around in a panic.

Xavier nodded. "Just cut a robe or cape on one of the dead bodies. I did that when Endy broke her arm last year."

Armen did so, scampering to the closest corpse he could get do. He grabbed their red cape and measured to the halfway mark before cutting it as evenly as he could get it in a quick enough time. Once done, he hastily moved back to his friend and put his arm in a red sling held up by his neck to keep his arm from hanging limp and worsening the blood flow and bone fracture.

"Okay. That's the best I can do for now."

Xavier nodded, standing back up. "Thanks lad. I appreciate it."

He began walking over to the body of the man that held him down with magic. Beside his body was the book that he had taken from him earlier, now with blood soaking into the old pages. He bend down and picked it up, not even opening it and examining it's contents before turning to his partner in their mission.

He opened his mouth, but Armen spoke first. "Do you feel that? That strong presence?"

Xavier looked around then back to his friend. "I don't know. I feel heavy but that is probably just my body trying to get used to this gravity again."

"No. This is strong and...familiar. It's dark and overwhelming... It almost feels like..." His eyes shot open wide as he remembered that feeling. "It can't be, can it?"

Xavier tilted his head and asked what he was talking about before turned around and bolted out of the room, dashing through the corridors as if his life depended on it. Xavier called out his name ran as fast as he could to catch up with him, thoughts running wildly through his mind. What was going on? He tried calling out to get Armen to slow down, not getting the boy's attention until he eventually tripped on his own feet and fell painfully to the stone ground.
Armen spun around and ran back to him, bending down and helping him back up his feet as he apologized. The green eyed man hissed, looking down at his hand that continued to bleed underneath the dressing but not nearly as bad as normal thanks to the health potion that Armen had given him.

"What are you talking about? Just tell me!"

Armen looked over his shoulder, then back up at his comrade. "I can't. It is a bad omen. Just please, trust me. I need to know if what I am feeling is actually what I think it is."

Xavier growled in frustration but he saw the sparkle in his friends eyes and decided let him do what he desired. "Fine, but please slow down, would ya'?"

Armen smiled and nodded. He turned around, jogging rather than running this time until his friend picked up speed.
...

The two ran down the steps and descended into the darkness, their way lit by the dim light of flames from the torches mounted to the walls. Xavier had given up on asking Armen about what was going on, instead he was new quiet and anxiously waiting to see what was to come. Armen was walking rather quickly down the steps, slipping and nearly tripped over on occasion if not for his good balance or Xavier reaching out and grabbing him to pull him back up.
They continued on down the steps that seemed to go on forever. Once they finally made it to the bottom, they were face to face with a stone door that was locked from the outside. Without saying anything, Armen lifted up his arm, his hand glowing in cyan and transparent black magic. Xavier got down, putting his arms over his head and turning away to shield his face. Armen fired a powerful blast that blow away the lock, along with a large piece of the door, leaving a massive hole in the stone. Armen turned to Xavier with a grin and a gesture.

"Ladies first!"

Xavier rolled his eyes. "I'm not a lady! Fine, I'll go in but just because I want to get this over with!"

Xavier stepped over a portion of the stone door that was not destroyed completely, carefully making his way around the debris left behind in the darkness. Armen followed behind.
They stepped into the room, chills running down their backs and the hairs on the back of their necks standing up straight. The dark room was rather unsettling, with shelves with skulls and golden bowls filled with crimson blood, all surrounded by candles on a table. There was a golden knife with obvious stains of blood. There were shelves filled with books and jars that appeared to be filled with organs. It was more unsettling with the knowledge that many Herobrine cultists were cannibalistic and prefered human meat for rituals and some for food.
Armen immediately went to the west wall where a stand of red and black armor was in the way. It had the repulsive scent of rotting flesh as if armor made of flesh was once in the red and black armor's place. The wood holding it up was even stained red, the crimson fading into the badge wood. He moved it out of the way, grabbing it and tossing it to the ground. Xavier jumped back as he was nearly hit with it, his ears ringing as the metal hit the floor. The helmet rolled until the clueless spy put his foot on top of it and stopped it.

"It's here. It's behind here!"

Xavier tried to get an answer. "Armen, what's-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Armen extended his arm and pointed it at the dull stone gray wall. The room lit up with cyan light as magic engulfed his hand. Suddenly, he released the blast, letting it collide into the wall. The room trembled and dust and flakes of stone from the ceiling drifted down onto them as a loud sound flooded the room and echoed down the corridors. A portion of the stone wall crumbled away, leaving a hole that revealed a large hollowed out opening on the other side. A massive secret room that the cultist wanted no one to find. Armen looked down at his fingers as the magic light faded, finally running out of mana.
Without a word being said, Armen stepped over the rubble and stepped into the secret room. The inside was pitch black until there was a click and torches lit up one by one on the circular wall. In the center of the room, the grey stone turned into a circle of dark teal decorated with gold that directed towards a pedestal in the very center of the room. On top of that was a box.
The boys both approached it with caution, approaching the box decorated with gold. It had a lock and chains wrapped tightly around it, so tight that the metal scraped off the paint if it was somehow moved. With that lock, there was another one in the box's design itself.

Armen sighed, reaching out to it. "Great."

Xavier stayed a bit back, looking around as he searched for any sign of a boobytrap. "Armen, are you sure that touching that is safe?"

"No. Not really." He reached out and touched it anyway.

His hand reached out and touched the rusty metal lock holding onto the chains. Xavier reading to run and draw his sword, preparing for some trap to set off. Armen tugged at it, hearing a click as the lock popped open. He gasped, not expecting that to happen.

  "It's...unlocked."

He started looking over his shoulders, also anticipating something to happen. They waited in silence for something to occur, the silence becoming almost unbearable as time ticked away. The raven haired turned back to the small chest, cautiously lifting up the top to find that it was unlocked as well. He lowered a brow, knowing that that should not be. Not even the cultists were ignorant to leave things unlocked, especially something as important as this.

Xavier's eyes enlarged as the bright light from the objects in the box hit his face. "Are those...what I think they are?"

There in front of them were the last two remaining life lines to the fallen god himself. The very objects whose name must never be spoken aloud. They both had a bright white glow in their centers that shined brightly. The gems themselves were scratch here and there but bore not a single crack. This overwhelming power almost leaked from them as if being in their presence was enough to make your body tremble with fear. It was like souls were swarming within them, trying desperately to break free.

Armen nodded and swallowed a lump forming within his throat. "Yep. Them. The...the diamonds."

Xavier stepped forward and slowly reached out his uninjured hand, hesitant on continuing his action. He inhaled and held it in as he grabbed the diamond on the left, slowly and carefully. A vibration rattled through his arm and his stomach felt like it was twisting from his anxieties. He stared blankly down at the glowing mineral, seeing that demon's white glowing eyes in the gems faint reflection.

"Let's end this." Xavier said as he raised up his sword.

Armen's eyes widened and his heart began racing. They could not just destroy them! He recalled when Drake had destroyed the first diamond while he was possessed, remembering how his body had exploded in white light and had ended up dead. He could not let that happen to Drake no matter if it would be rid of that demon or not. He had said that he would defeat Herobrine even if it meant never getting to see Drake again, but it was easier said than done. Especially when he had hope that he could find another way.

Armen yelled at him, grabbing his arm and stopping him. "Wait! Please...don't destroy them yet." Xavier lowered his blade, his chest puffed out and glaring.

"Why?! Don't you want to save people's lives? To avenge Drake and everyone that this monster has killed?"

Armen's lips quivered. "Of course I do! But...doing this will kill Drake. Please..."

The green eyed male looked down at the diamond in his hand then to the one glowing in the small chest. He remembered the day at the hatchery and everything that had happened on that day and the days before when Luke and Sylvia were murdered. He remembered how ill the Enderman hybrid was and recalled the sorrow when he finally lost his battle.

He was hesitant to answer, slowly shaking his head. "I...I'm sorry Armen...but Drake is already dead." He once again held his blade up high, ready to bring it down on the ancient mineral.

Armen once again screamed and teared up, the water glimmering in his bright cyan orbs. "If we destroy this, then I might never be able to get Drake back, even if he turns into a Nightmare, I won't be able to save him this time! I just...need to know if there's a better way. The way that I told you about a year ago when you woke up from that coma. We can bring these back to Grayson and let him decide what must be done. Besides, you can't destroy these things without the proper materials. I know."

Xavier thought about it, looking down at the book. "Fine... Fine. We will bring them back to Grayson and get everything taken care of, but we have to find a way to conceal their power so other magi and him can't feel their presence. Besides, I have this book and I think I saw something about the diamonds in here and some strange information about h**l."

Armen's eyes lit up. "You what?!"

Xavier pulled the book from his satchel and extended his arm out, holding out the thick book for his comrade to take. His green eyes were bright and showed how anxious he truly was. Armen gazed down at the book, taking in it's worn appearance with the deteriorating leather and yellow pages. He reached out and took it in his grasp, pulling it close to his chest as he lifted up the front cover and carefully flipped through the rotting pages. His eyes scanned through, his brows first lowering then going up as his eyes widened. Some of it he had recognized from what he had heard from Grayson back in Iron Mere, but some of this information was new as if what he had already known was simply copied into the novel in his arms and more information was added.
He went through the books contents, stopping at one page in particular. He stopped breathing and the blood within his heart turned to ice as his eyes scanned the page. He saw his name, and Grayson's, and Drake's. He could not believe what he was reading. It was impossible...but it was here. It was like the prophecy back underneath the church of Notch but there was so much more to it. What they needed and searched for for so long, was this finally it? He did not even bother to look through the entire thing, instead he looked up to Xavier, baffled with glowing illumination within his wide childlike eyes.

"Xavier, do you realize what you've found? This is it! This is it! We can win this! Come on, we have to report back to Grayson! Immediately!"

Armen spun around, holding the book to his side as he nearly sprinted out of the room. Xavier stayed behind, looking down at the diamond in his hand and over his shoulder at the glowing diamond resting in their case. They could not just leave them! He quickly turned back around, taking a step forward as he reached out an arm and placed the diamond back into it's place.

"Wait! What about These?"

Armen stopped in his tracks and looked back over his shoulders, blushing in embarrassment as he turned around. How did he forget so quickly? He mumbled, "oh...right!"

Instead of simply answering his question, Armen walked around him, grabbing the spy's satchel and flipping the top open. He shoved the box in with little care, his body trembling with the overwhelming excitement that began to coarse through his veins.

"Let's just get out of here and get back to Grayson as fast as we can. We have no time to lose."

With that, Armen practically pushed Xavier forward, making the father growl but he could not be angry and was quick to forget his annoyance. They could not believe that this was actually happening and without much of a fight being put up against them at that. Yet he knew better than to be joyful for the occasion and get his hopes up. It was only a matter of time before that horrid demon figured out that they had found them and would stop at nothing to put an end to their plans to annihilate him once and for all.
Xavier ran out of the room, his heart pumping with adrenaline. Armen smiled with a wide grin that showed his bright teeth. He had never been more excited and would have cried tears of joy if over thoughts had not rushed through his head. Chills ran down his back and the joy flushed out of his system. No. It could not be this easy. This definitely was not right. He has to know. Herobrine has to know that they had found his precious diamonds that they could use to defeat him. Why was he not stopping them?

"Something about this doesn't feel right. I expected Herobrine to try to stop us. This is too easy. Something...is off."

The boy turned around as he felt a presence that was overwhelmingly powerful and dark, his slow heart skipping a beat and his fragile limbs freezing up like a stone statue. His bright cyan eyes rested upon a man standing in the center of the room, standing tall and firm. His dark clothing was covered in blood, his hair a tangled mess underneath his hood. His face was stained in faint crimson that had failed to wash off completely. His expression was blank and unnerving, his very presence giving a vibe like a bad dream that you would beg to wake from. He simply tilted his head and stared at the boy, his gaze like daggers pricking at Armen's skin until they could pierce into his very soul. The bright lights on his face breaking through the darkness surrounding his body. Who could mistake those orbs that shined like the light from heaven itself, like the light you see when death finally claims your soul?

"Drake?"