Heart of the Jungle

Mining

Scar hated mining. He hated the way the walls pressed into him, he hated that the only light came from the torches, he hated the heat and smoke the torches gave off, making it hard to breathe. He just hated mining. Again and again, Scar asked himself why he even did it at all, but of course, he knew the answer.

Diamonds. They were the currency of Hermitcraft, the very thing that kept the economy running, and without them, Scar had no hope of buying the materials he needed for the many build ideas swirling around in his mind. So, he kept mining.

After about an hour, Scar was barely able to stand it anymore. He coughed into his sleeve for the umpteenth time, the smoke from the torches was really getting to his lungs. He knew he needed to get out of there soon, but he hadn't found a single diamond yet, and he was determined not to leave until he found some. He sighed to himself and kept mining.

Scar broke through the andesite directly in front of him and gasped. Diamonds! Scar quickly pried them from their stone prison and stuffed them into his inventory. He straightened and turned to leave the dreadful mine when he felt something. Something strong, pulling him towards it.

He turned to the hole in the earth where the diamonds had come from and started breaking stone, unaware of his sore arms, or the stifling heat, or the darkness that threatened to envelop him, his only thought was getting to the source of the pull. Finally, he broke through into a large, dark cavern with a large pedestal in the center. The ceiling dripped with water and the only light source came from a large, gray-green crystal hovering just above the pedestal. This was Scar's first real warning that something was wrong. Crystals shouldn't be that color, even with the limited studies he had done on them so far he knew that. So why was this one?

His second warning was probably the most concerning. A voice, something whispering in the back of his mind. He couldn't make out what it was saying, but he could tell that it was a very ancient, very powerful language. Scar wondered if it could be galactic but quickly dismissed the thought. He had heard Xisuma speak galactic before, and this whisper was nothing like that.

By the time his third warning reached, it was already too late. Something about the strange, ominous crystal seemed familiar, and it was only when Scar realized he was slowly walking towards it as if under someone else's control that he realized what it was. This was the Heart of the Jungle, an object so dangerous that it was locked away deep underground by the ancient civilization that had built the Jungle Temples. Scar fought back for control of his own body, dread filling his heart as he remembered what the ancient crystal book had said about the Heart.

Any who approach this crystal will feel a strong pull towards it and lose control of their body. The Heart seizes control of their movements, and once touched, it will never let them go. They will become nothing more than a puppet to do the Heart's bidding against their will. Once in the grasp of the Heart of the Jungle, they will never be free again.

By now, Scar was so close to the crystal that he could feel the soft heat emanating off of it. He fought back against the Heart's control, knowing all too well that his mind wouldn't be his for much longer. Slowly, his arm reached up towards the Heart, shaking with Scar's efforts to move away. His hand inched closer to the dangerous crystal of its own accord, and Scar closed his eyes, cherishing the last moments he would be himself for.

"I'm so sorry everybody. I tried to fight it, I tried..." Tears now streaming freely down his face, he muttered apologies to friends he would likely never see again before everything went black.