𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗘𝗗 - Hermitcraft Hellhole. Or Tartarus. Whatever works.

Game Of Survival.

Take the Civil War thing that I cooked up at 12:17 AM on Thursday. Heavily inspired on song above.
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Who's the hunter?

Who's the prey?

Who's in the shadows?

Who's ready to play?

There's no surrender.

The war drums sound. Both teams rush toward each other both intent to kill.

Jevin saw Wels and Iskall fighting, saw Impulse's fireballs raining down, before Tango pushed them back with his own fleet of fireballs.

He saw somebody flying through the battlefield and lift up trying not to die from the fireballs. He wondered briefly who would do that before pushing it out of his mind, and focusing on sneaking his way to the enemies base, to sabotage them.

The war drums had stopped long ago, but he could still feel them in his blood. It was a Game of Survival.

He wasn't sure who was winning or who was losing. He couldn't tell in all this bloodlust. People had put up signs on their shop who was on S.T.A.R. or G-Team.

Everything had changed because of the war. And he wondered if it was too late to tap out.

He shoved the thought out of his mind, and focused on how close he was to the base. Nobody had noticed him, so he was safe. He had memorized their shifts, so he knew that Wels should be far away enough to not see him.

He could easily sneak into their base, disable the ghast cannons, and cause some shennanigans. Maybe they would give up. (But he knew they wouldn't give up.)

"Hello, Jevin. Fancy seeing you here." Jevin could recognize that voice anywhere. It belonged to the person who he had spent countless seasons with, spent laughing, playing, sparring, pulling pranks that he was against, making dirty jokes to each other, building with each other.

"Wels." He said, stating it as flatly as possible, keeping his face expressionless. He had his sword ready, and knew Wels every move. He would— will, win.

"If you thought that getting into our base was that easy, than it's not." Wels said in a sneer, so unlike him. But being in S.T.A.R. had changed him, and Jevin didn't know how to change him back.

"I wasn't expecting it to be."

And that was the trigger for Wels.

He grabbed his sword, Jevin quickly grabbing his and Wels struck the fight.

Their swords clashed, sparks flying as both struggled to gain the upper hand, both knowing each other's moves, perhaps a bit too much.

But Wels got the first hit, and even though Jevin healed it quickly, both knew now who was going to win this fight.

Wels managed to disarm Jevin, and quickly sent him onto the ground with his sword.

"You're so easy to disarm, you know. Let's see what he told us?" Wels mused.

"Ah yes, step one. Grab his waist." Wels grabbed his waist, sending immediate alarm bells off in Jevin's mind. "Step two. Pull him closer."

The alarm bells grew more persistent.

"Step three. Look into his eyes." Wels roughly yanked Jevin's chin up, forcing him to make eye contact. "Step four. Look at his lips while biting yours."

"Step five. Grab his face gently, then whisper. 'Team S.T.A.R. sends their regards'." Jevin struggled against Wels, alarm bells screaming.

"Step six. Stab him in the back."

Jevin nearly screamed at the agony as Wels, one of his closest friends, sword went through his back.

But he wasn't dead. Not yet.

"Why?" Jevin croaked out, his bright blue blood coming out from his mouth. But Wels heard him.

"Because why not." Wels said, smiling sinisterly as he walked away, leaving Jevin to his miserable death, alone and afraid.

~

People would do anything for their life, won't they.

Jevin woke up at the G-Teams base in a cold sweat, the respawn having taken a bit longer. He felt haunted by what had happened to him moments before.

He loved Wels as a friend, but whatever had happened to him... he wasn't his friend. Not anymore. And... trust had been broken. A lot of it. He didn't know if he could trust Wels anymore.

After what Wels did— you can't go back from that. Jevin pushed it away, and than thought about how many others on G-Team had been... seduced like that.

He felt sick to his stomach. It was horrible.

But people will do anything to save themselves and their teammates.

-

Who's in the shadow's?

Who's ready to play?

Are we the hunters?

Or are we the prey?

There's no surrender.

And there's no escape.

This is a wild Game of Survival.