Lionhearts ||Skephalo||

64

Tubbo's head pounds as he sips from the bottle of water. The heat seems even worse than he was used to; he had done patrols before. They lasted for five hours as they checked perimeters and security. He had always been fine—so what changed?...

It's hotter, he concludes simply, handing the bottle back to Fundy. Philza is speaking to the adults, gesturing to their destination; a hillside, almost a mountainside, that loomed over the valley wherein the chapel was located. Tubbo can't hear him from here, but Fundy can. If the alert look on the shifter's face is any indication at least—his ears are perked up and he's glancing at the mage as he speaks.

"You really have good ears, huh?" Tubbo remarks dryly, and Fundy jumps, nearly dropping the water.

"Uh, yeah," he nods, "Foxes tend to. That's why I like staying halfway like this, I can hear things a lot better. Vision's not so hot though." He seems to rethink that phrasing as another wave of the hellish warmth ripples over them.

"It's hotter than normal," Tubbo mutters, his mouth sticky and almost dry already. "It's like—if the Nether had heat waves or the equivalent. It's gotta be a whole bunch of degrees hotter, or however that translates in Overworld temperature." This information seems to surprise Fundy, and he admits slowly,

"It feels...more uninhabitable than you described when telling Sapnap about it, I won't lie. I think I'm likely to die of heatstroke before we even get all the way down there." Tubbo gestures vaguely around them.

"The mana is fucked," he proclaims bluntly, "Bad really tipped a fragile balance I guess? I hope that it doesn't last."

Fundy nods desperately, clearly sweltering. He perks up, and stands, dusting himself off.

"Phil's tellin' us it's time to go," he informs Tubbo, "We'll be heading down that slope there, he said—it's all basalt and black sand mixed with netherrack, so careful not to trip or slip." Tubbo's nod is curt, and they rejoin the group, peering over the edge.

Thankfully, the incline is nowhere near as steep as the path they had edged along to get here; a weight lifts off Tubbo's shoulders in fact, when he sees how easy to scale it really seems to be.

"It's all a test o' balance," Philza explains, leaning down a bit to gently ruffle Tubbo's hair, "You've got this, champ. Just make sure that you don't get your ankles caught between any rocks or you could get em sprained."

"Gotcha," Tubbo nods, a slight smile on his face now. He can do this. Philza winces, and mumbles something to himself. Shaking it off, he spreads the wings he had kept dispelled until now, and jumps, gliding down gradually. Tubbo scoffs. Just like him, letting us scamper down the cliffside like terrified rats while he glides down all cool and calm.

But scamper he does, coming to a shuddering halt at the base of the slope next to Philza where he had landed.

"Of course you'd be all cool while we," he pants accusingly, "fall over our own feet to the bottom o' the hill, jerk." It's playful, but also a slight dig. Philza shrugs.

"I needed to make sure that there wasn't any surging mana here anyway, the quicker I was down the better," he dismisses. Tubbo rolls his eyes and looks up at the foreboding building in front of them; or rather, the summit of said building. The topmost bell tower, it almost looks like, is protruding like a blackened sword, the netherrack around it far lighter than the dark material it's built of.

"...so that's the place?" He murmurs, shivering. It feels like a threat, a warning; and perhaps it was all the legends about the chapels, but he feels like something is watching him, staring holes into his back, ready to lunge and...