(2205 words)

XB looked down at the large island as he flew towards it. The Shopping District was surprisingly empty, there wasn't a single person, as far as he could tell, but he didn't let that distract him from his current task: buying sand.

He flew in the Barge's open roof and immediately scrunched his nose. The whole shop had a faint, sour smell.

After finding and paying for all the sand he needed, the man decided to figure out where that smell was coming from.

The source, apparently, was a chest sitting in an extended part of the shop's wall. There were a few signs accompanying it, which XB read.

"Mycelium? Who'd want to buy that?"

He opened the lid of the chest and was hit with a small wave of hot air and the same smell, which he had started to become used to. He immediately closed it and turned away, coughing.

"Disgusting." He shook his head.

<~~~>

The air in the Nether was drier than in the Overworld, and much hotter.

Sweater tied around his waist, Grian flew through the odd terrain of colorful mushroom forests and boiling pools of lava. When he neared the coordinate Mumbo gave him, he looked around and soon found the man sitting on the shore of a lava lake with two striders wandering on the shallows, nearby.

He smoothly landed next to his friend, who had removed his suit jacket and had the orange-ish glow of a potion effect around him.

"Ready to get your rear kicked?" Grian swung himself up on the back of one of the striders, which had ambled onto the shore. "I'm gonna call you Waffles!"

Mumbo cleared his throat. "Forgetting something?"

Grian looked over to the taller Hermit, who he was now at eye-level with, holding a glass bottle with an orange potion in one hand, and a pair of fishing rods with teal fungus on the hooks in the other.

"While I would love to see you try and lead Waffles using sheer willpower, I think it's only fair you have a chance. Also," he added, tossing the potion and one of the rods to Grian, who caught them. "We wouldn't want you falling in the lava."

Grian gratefully drank the bitter potion. The Nether heat lessened to a comfortable warmth, and the same glow that was around Mumbo surrounded him as the fire-resistance took effect.

The other strider had made its way to the shore, and Mumbo swiftly mounted it, which was easier for him, since the creature wasn't almost his height.

"Alright, see that warped tree next to the cliff?" The taller man pointed across the lake. "First one whose strider touches the shore wins- Hey, I didn't say to start yet!"

"You didn't say not to!" Grian called back, a couple of meters from the starting point. Waffles was waddling across the bubbling lava at a speed just quick enough to look ridiculous.

His victory was short-lived, however. Soon enough, he saw Mumbo's strider passing him, with the rider in question tauntingly saluting a greeting.

"Onwards, Waffles!" Grian called out louder than necessary, consequently spooking the strider, who began sprinting towards the shore.

Mumbo reached the goal first, hopping off his strider and shouting in victory.

Grian tried to get Waffles under control, but the fungus-tipped pole slipped out of his hand and fell into the lava with sizzles and cracks. The strider bucked suddenly, sending its rider flying into the netherrack.

Grian spat out reddish soil and picked up a handful to throw a Mumbo, who was doubled over laughing. He missed terribly, which only caused the man to laugh more.

"You okay there, mate?" Mumbo asked once he had stopped laughing enough to help his friend up. Grian brushed netherrack off his trousers.

"Yeah, it was karma. Congrats on the win, anyways, especially since I started early."

"Oh, you'll probably win next time." Mumbo ruffled his shorter friend's light-brown hair. Grian laughed and pushed his hand away.

Grian found a cluster of the same teal mushroom that was on the rod. He grabbed a handful and fed it to Waffles, who ate it, but was still annoyed at its rider for scaring it.

<~~~>

The two Hermits found a nearby hill leading to the cliff, which overlooked the lake. The view was breathtaking, the lava cast a glow on forests of similar teal and red mushrooms, and there was a valley covered in gray-brown soil with blue flames dotting it like freckles. Grian's green eyes shone in amazement as he looked over the scene.

Were his eyes a lighter shade than usual?

Mumbo pushed the thought away. It was just the red glow of the Nether.

They sat at the edge of the cliff, talking about future build ideas and Hermit Challenges. As they talked, the soft glow of the potion effect faded from both of them. The topic eventually shifted to the HEP.

"I don't know if this is just me," Grian fiddled with the loose sleeves of his sweater, "But doesn't what they're doing seem off? Like, wrong, in a way"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's strange, but yesterday I couldn't have cared less if they got rid of the mycelium. If anything, I might have been happy for all that gross fungus to be gone. Even this morning, it didn't seem like such a big deal. I don't know, it just doesn't sit right with me."

Mumbo thought about this. He didn't have much of an opinion either way, but it wasn't unusual for Grian to cause shenanigans over small disputes. He remembered a few years back, when a series of pranks had erupted into a small(but harmless) war.

"Well, I suppose it's with thinking on, just don't go making a mountain out of a molehill, okay?"

Grian chuckled and stood up, stretching. "We should probably get going, I'm surprised no monsters have snuck up on us yet."

Mumbo stood up and yelled in surprise when he felt the soil crumble beneath his foot, causing him to slip over the edge of the cliff.

Something grabbed his arm, suddenly stopping his fall. He looked up and saw Grian lying on his stomach, on the edge, both hands around Mumbo's forearm.

"I've got you," Grian grunted, pulling his friend back up over the ledge, and to safety.

The two men lay on their backs a meter or two from the cliff, waiting for the initial shock to fade. Mumbo's heart pounded in his chest as he began to comprehend what had nearly happened. He propped himself up on his elbows and sat up, still catching his breath.

"Thanks, Grian, that- that could have gone really badly."

Grian sat up too and grinned, though his face was beaded with sweat and his expression still looked scared. "You're not falling on my watch. Yeah, we should definitely be heading back before something else happens."

Mumbo nodded as Grian stood up and took his arm, pulling Mumbo to his feet.

<~~~>

<XisumaVoid> Everyone, there's a bit of an issue going on at the Shopping District. I'm asking you to stay away from the island until further notice, while we sort it out.

False, Cub, Keralis, Tango, and Scar were all standing around the main room of the town hall, waiting for the admin to arrive.

"Do you know what it's about?" Scar asked False, more than a little worried something had already gone wrong. She shook her head.

"He told me to bring everyone here after we found this chicken that had gray eyes."

"Gray eyes...?" The mayor's musings were cut short when the armored admin came through the front doors, closing them behind him. Scar ran to meet him.

"X, what's going on?"

"Okay, don't freak out too much, but we may have accidentally released an outbreak of an infectious fungus upon the Shopping District."

"I- What?"

Xisuma held out his hand, two ancient-looking, leather-bound books materialized from his inventory. "These are admin log books. Most admins keep a record of important happenings in their world, information that could be beneficial to future admins. I saw a chicken earlier, its eyes were gray, and it had mycelium growing from it. Both previous admins of this world mentioned a similar issue, and it only occurred to people on this island."

Keralis stepped forward. "Excuse me, Shishwammy, but if the danger is on the island, should we really be here?"

"The town hall is pretty high up, and far from any mycelium; I think it's safe up here. I was going to have you all go home, or at least off the island, but first I have to make sure that none of you have been infected." Xisuma pulled out a notebook and quickly jotted something down. He then went around to each Hermit in the room, asking questions and writing things down. Eventually, he made his way to Scar.

"Have you felt sick at all in the past day? Like, nausea, headaches, chills, dizziness, anything of the sort?"

"Nope, I've been pretty well, as of recent."

Xisuma made a few marks on the paper and closed the notebook with what must have been a sigh of relief.

"Luckily," he spoke to the room. "None of you seem to have any symptoms of infection. Of course, if you do notice any later on, please tell me as soon as possible. Now, before I send you off, I just need to know a few more things. Firstly, was anyone else on the island today?"

Cub Spoke up. "Grian was here this morning, he asked if he could help with removing the mycelium, and I agreed. I think he left sometime around noon."

"Thank you, Cub." The admin looked out a window. "I'll have to talk to him tomorrow, seeing as it's already getting dark. Lastly, is anyone here familiar with Galactic?"

There were murmurs and shaking of heads. Scar took a deep breath.

"I can speak it. Reading and writing it is a little more difficult, but I can manage."

Xisuma blinked, clearly surprised. "Really? I had no clue, when did you learn it?"

The mayor rubbed the back of his neck. "In between the world change, I thought it'd be a neat skill." While the timeline was correct, he had other reasons for knowing the ancient language.

"Well, in that case, you all should probably head back to your bases. Scar, I'll need your help looking through these log books. I'm sure there's something in them as to how to deal with the outbreak."

As the others left for the night, Xisuma and Scar moved to an unused office room, which had a large desk and a couple of chairs, which the mayor pulled over. He opened one of the books, this one's leather was much more faded than the other's, near the middle. The pages were blank. Confused, he flipped through the book, finding there was writing on only a handful of the pages. He checked the dates.

"These log books are from different groups, right?"

Xisuma looked up. "Yeah, they were a few decades apart. Why?"

"These people were only in this world a couple of months. What do you think happened to them?"

"Maybe they fled once people started getting infected? I don't remember if it was mentioned."

Scar found a notebook and pens in a drawer, and set to work reading the book and writing down anything that could be important. It took a minute or two for him to get used to reading Galactic. While anyone could learn it, the language was typically known only by admins and those born with magic, who had the natural ability to learn it quicker than most.

<~~~>

Scar's eyes drooped as he tried to keep his focus on the words on the page. It must have been some time past midnight. He turned to see if Xisuma was still awake. The admin had removed his helmet, his coffee-colored hair falling about his face, and the lantern on the desk showing dark circles under his eyes. Scar wondered when the man had last gotten a full night's sleep.

"We should probably call it a night." Though he spoke quietly, the sudden change from complete silence was enough to startle Xisuam into looking up. "I think I saw some blankets in a closet somewhere, I'll go find them."

Sure enough, Scar found a couple of blankets neatly folded on the other side of the building. He craned his neck, even the tallest Hermits would have some difficulty reaching that top shelf. He instinctively looked around, though he knew no one else was in the building. He raised his arm. Magic carried the blankets off the shelf and lowered them towards the floor, where he picked them up and brought them back to the office.

Xisuma was already asleep in his chair, so Scar put one of the blankets over him.

Should I have told him, he thought. About my magic? But what if he gets mad? Don't be ridiculous, I should tell him. But what if he doesn't take it well? He tried to push his anxieties away, picked up the lantern, and blew it out, plunging the room into darkness.