~A rift between worlds~ (hermitcraft x dsmp)

Chapter 10

Phil PoV:
Phil was watching Dream and Tango as they flew out of the cave. He sighed. One one hand, he would've really liked to join them on their way back to this worlds admin's base and checked the coder, but he knew that on the other hand, he had to stay back and watch out for Zedaph, as the hermit was too focused on his translations as to notice anything around him. So he strolled over to the altar, where the book had once been and decided to take a closer look. The altar seemed like not much more then an anvil, now that the strange fog-like glimmer was missing.

His thoughts drifted back to the world he originated from. It was hard not to miss his friends from there. Thinking of his friends, he looked at Zedaph, who he had gotten quite close with over the past few days. He thought that the blonde hermit was probably the most interesting person he had met so far, and was curious to understand the way his thoughts worked even better. Zedaph had shown similar interest, as he was very interested in finding out more about the Dream SMP. Phil didn't fancy the idea of leaving this world and never returning already, yet he knew that a way must be found one way or another.

Lost in his thoughts, it took him a while to notice a small change in the air. When he finally noticed, he found it quite difficult to understand what it was. Carefully, he gazed around the room, stuck trying to figure out what alerted him. It felt as if the atmosphere around him had shifted into something... dangerous. Still attentive, he took a few steps back and tapped Zedaph on his shoulder. The hermit flinched and looked up from his translations, opening his mouth to ask something, when he also noticed the strange sense of danger in the air. He stood up and nodded to his friend, showing him that he understood what he was feeling. Phil was relieved for a second that he wasn't just imagining things, and that was the moment he didn't pay enough attention.

A violet flash appeared in front of him, followed by a sudden sting of pain, when he felt a sword slightly cut into his chest. He jumped back and pulled his own blade, parrying the next hit. He heard a clang of metal meeting metal next to him, making him understand that Zedaph was in a fight of his own. He lashed out with his sword, hitting the figure attacking him. The figure backed away, allowing him to see his opponent clearly for the first time. A person with a red hood pulled over his face glared at him, their appearance seeming familiar. Yet Phil didn't have time to sort his thoughts, as the person raised their blade again and thrusted forward. He quickly parried the hit and immediately riposted. His opponent stumbled, giving Phil enough time to disarm them. Suddenly, the guy raised his hand, a purple flash appearing, hitting Phil's hand. He gasped and dropped his own sword out of reflex, as his hand felt like it was burning just by touching the hilt of his blade. Without time to react, the other person already had enough time to get their blade back, holding it against his throat.

Helpless, Phil looked over to the other fight which was going on, and saw Zedaph pushed to the ground next to his papers, bleeding from his  shoulder. Disarmed, he was staring up to his opponent. Phil felt his blood cooling down as he recognised the the person - Ranboo. He was pointing his blade down at Zedaph, his eyes glowing magenta like before. "Why are you trying to translate this book? It does not belong to you", Ranboo finally spoke. The hermit challenged his gaze and replied: "Well, I don't think it belongs to you either, does it?" He spoke confidently, but Phil could sense the terror hidden in his voice. The enderman scoffed, anger flaming in his eyes. He put his foot onto Zed's hurt shoulder, leaned in and said: "I don't think you are in the right position to say such things, do you? Now, if your life is worth anything to you, give me that book. Now."

Just now, Phil noticed that the book was missing. He could see all of the papers Zed had been using, but the book wasn't laying next to them. The hermit gritted his teeth and winced. Phil wasn't sure if his friend was being an idiot for challenging Ranboo in this way, or if he actually had some sort of plan to get out of this situation. Ranboo stepped harder onto his shoulder and yelled: "Answer me!" Zedaph cried out, but still refused to answer. It pained Phil to watch him get hurt like this and not being able to help at all. He scanned the room desperately, trying to find a way to get away. He tried to see if there was a possibility to somehow overpower the hooded person holding him, but he didn't have a chance without his sword. Even if he somehow managed to get his blade, his hand was still hurting from the blast he had been disarmed with. Is there really no way out?!