Stress handed Cleo the healing potion, which was stored away in a chest. Dane went for the bandages, water and ice pack. Her shoulder-length brown hair swished about with each pass. Stress and Cleo high-fived, proud to have finished another medical station. One up on Joe and False.

They were having as much fun as possible in the literal hell that the server had become. But nothing lasts forever. Nothing at all.

Stress looked up, seeing a shadow blocking the sun. It looked like it had elytra, not wings, and was distinctly human. Yet whoever they were had excellent flying skills, perhaps even compared to the demons.

It was probably that new kid, the one eerily good at flying, Grian. Cleo left to allow them to talk in peace.

The winged figure landed a couple meters away, his messy, partially burnt hair bouncing lightly. He ran over to Stress, waving and shouting:

"Stress! There you are! Iskall-"

Grian was cut off by a hitched gasp from Stress.

Grian looked at Stress, concerned. She was staring into space, her lips slowly, angrily tracing out Iskall's name, as if she was fighting with herself on his to feel about it. Grian noticed a cold wind drifting through the air, around his leg level. Looking down, he saw Stress had her hand slowly closing into a frosty fist.

And then the ice exploded.

If you have been punched in the face, deities forbid, you'll know that it hurts. A lot. And if you've ever been hit with a ice-coated snowball, demons forbid, you'll know that it hurts even more. Now, imagine an ice-coated snowball, hung you in the face, with the force (and knuckles) of a punch. This is what Stress rather abruptly inflicted upon Grian.

He staggered backwards, shocked. Stress gasped, horrified at her own actions. Blinking things away, hoping it was all a dream, she turned and ran from all of her problems, as fast as her icy legs could carry her.

Grian regained his balance, blinking spots of frost away. He started forwards, after Stress, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Cleo stood there, shaking her head in a cautionary manner. And so Grian backed down.

Autocorrect, signing off from the past!