Hour of Mercy || Hermitcraft AU

~• Six •~

Impulse's blood ran cold, as the stranger's face paled and he stumbled back against his table, "You're still here?!"

Impulse didn't know what to say. "I- sorry, we've..." Then he fully processed what the stranger had said. "You knew we were here?"

The stranger didn't answer, "Why are you in my house?!"

Impulse's mind was whirling with questions, guilt, fear, but one emotion grew, overshadowing them all. Anger. "You knew we were here? Why didn't you help us?! We've been stuck in this life forsaken forest for days!" He stood, walking forward, ready to give this weird person a piece of his mind. He and Zedaph could have been spared all this pain and hunger if-

"I did help you!" The stranger squalled, voice cracking as he glanced at the door nervously.

Impulse blinked, a confused breath leaving his lungs. Then a picture came to his mind. The fire, saving them from the vexes. It made sense now. looking away wide-eyed, he realized, "You saved us... How did you- the fire, the-"

Impulse stared back at the stranger. The stranger, red eyes, this strange cabin, the fire. He suddenly recalled the textbooks he'd read as a kid, spending days at a time in the village library. Flipping through the pages of books on all topics, though one had intrigued him most, even more than the redstone books. It was called "Differences Between the Realms." Something in him loved learning about worlds other than the one he'd grown to know. Now that knowledge was reentering his mind.

Impulse stumbled back this time. "You're a netherborn, aren't you?"

Netherborns. The ruthless, merciless hybrids that inhabited the nether. The textbook had no photos of the nether unlike the other realms, because the hostile hybrids would kill any non-nether being on sight. The Nether was theirs.

The stranger didn't say anything, just stood rigid, eyebrows furrowed and red gaze on him. That seemed to answer the question. Impulse's breath quickened as more bone chilling facts came to mind. He took several steps back, trying to create as much space between himself and the unpredictable hybrid. What would Zed do if never returned? He was counting on Impulse, and now what? What would-

Impulse stepped back again, only to knock the strange red mushroom plant over. The pot fell to its side, and broke down the middle, sending the odd brownish-grey sand across the rug, along with the plant. The stranger made a startled sound and Impulse whipped his head back up to see him sprinting straight at Impulse, an unreadable expression on his face.

Impulse gasped, heart rate skyrocketing, he shielded himself with his arms, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for impact. This was it. He had no weapons to defend himself with, he was helpless, he- ... was still standing?

He wasn't met with any pain, just silence, darkness, and confusion. All he could hear was his breathing, coming in quick, scared puffs. They slowed gradually. He opened his eyes, lowering his hands. He looked around, but the netherborn was nowhere. Then he glanced down and let out a half gasp.

The netherborn was crouched on the floor over the broken pot. Impulse stepped away, and watched him, baffled. The hybrid hurriedly scooped the sand, trying to form a pile. The grains fell into the crevices of the rug, making it far harder. He glanced around at a small side table beside the armchair. There was a purple glass cup with cut flowers sitting in water sitting alone. The hybrid reached to grab it and took out the flowers, pouring the water out on the wood floor. He set it beside the pile and started transferring the sand into it.

Impulse tried to make sense of the bizarre series of events. But as he watched the netherborn gently put the red plant in the cup, and sprinkle more sand around its roots, he just couldn't. The plant looked distressed, leaning at an awkward angle, and after it was set in the cup, the blonde stared at it for a long moment.