It was said that the Decked Out dungeon was alive.
The hermits, gathered in the halls and cubbyholes of Decked Out, talked about this factually. The dungeon was laced tradition and superstition.
The hermits said it ate people, that it craved blood. Some hermits had lucky cards or items, others touched parts of the dungeon before going in. They all joked about the dungeon having a crush on Etho.
Hypno thought this was all bullshit.
And while he wasnât one to diss other peopleâs superstitions (at least not in a hurtful way), the way some of the hermits talked about the dungeon was⊠weird.
Hypno could only shake his head and stay quiet. âItâs chance! Chance and RNG and skill! The dungeon is a machine, not some beast in need of hermit butts to keep it satisfied!â He wanted to say. But he didnât say anything, just stuck to the sidelines, quiet and thinking about his own runs, what he could explore next.
Regardless of differences, the hermits could all agree on one thing: decked out was addictive. Hypno had spent more hours then he cared to admit in the dungeon, just so he could be near the place, hear strategies. And he liked to play, had a bit of a knack for the dungeon itself. Phases one through three had been tons of fun, tons of exploration and death and success. But Phase fourâŠ
Hypno wondered if there was a death speedrun record yet for Decked Out, and if heâd just done it. Killed by Skill Issue almost as soon as heâd cleared the first room. The whole week had been like this, he hadnât succeeded once.
âToo bad, man.â Hypno could hear Cub saying from beyond the door when he respawned.
âAppreciate it, man. Ugh!â Hypno hit the button to open the door and went to sit on the floor next to where Cub was leaning against a wall. âIâve had such bad luck this week!â
âThat sucks. Maybe the dungeon is just mad at you.â Cub suggested, looking down at Hypno.
Hypno put his hands to his face. âCub, what?â
âWell, you know, I mean, of everyone here, I think you and I have penetrated the dungeon the deepest.â
âDonât say it like that, please.â
âItâs the truth, though.â Cub continued. âYou play that dungeon rough, and maybe itâs tired of you. Wants the annoying bug named Hypno to get out as fast as possible. And how to you get rid of something thatâs annoying you? You smack it.â
âThe dungeon isnât alive, Cub.â Hypno said, looking up at him. âYou do know that, right? Itâs just a game.â
âI dunno, manâŠâ Cub looked down at him. âI pay my respects to the dungeon⊠maybe you should consider it too.â
It dawned on Hypno, in that moment, just how much the sculk had spread across Cubâs skin, curling into his eyes and staining his skin an inky blue. Hypno shivered, and wondered just how Cub was âpaying respectsâ to the dungeon.
Hypno went again as soon as the dungeon was ready. He and Cub hadnât said another word since their brief conversation, and Hypno could feel Cubâs eyes on his back, watching him in silence. Those glittery, dark eyes. The door closed in between them, and Hypno tried to shake off the kind of damp, uncomfortable feeling on his skin.
âRight, hard mode, letâs do this.â Hypno murmured, pressing the correct button from the list and placing his shulker box. A minecart appeared, and down into the dungeon he went.
The problem was, with the minecart ride, was that it was far too long, with too much silence for thoughts to creep in. Of all people, Hypno hasnât expected Cub to be one of the hermits treating the dungeon like a living thing. But then again, Hypno reasoned, was Cub really all Cub right now? But regardless of who was in charge of Cubâs form right now, Cub ran the dungeon great most of the time.
But heâs just good at the game, a little voice inside Hypno argued.
But so are you⊠another voice argued back.
The minecart ride ended, and Hypno was facing the doors of the dungeon. He took a deep, centering breath, tightened his bandanna. The dungeon isnât mad at you, the dungeon doesnât have feelings, itâs a building, Hypno assured himself.
He grabbed the compass- a simple level one- and snuck his way thought the icy rooms and halls. He had an ear out for ravengers, but something was different. It smelled different. Rather then the kind of cold that blocked out everything, the air smelled stale, but slightly metallic. Hypno smelled his shirt- it wasnât him, although he was sweating like crazy. A ravenger suddenly roared, barreling around the corner, even though Hypno was out of sight. Hypno ran, jumping over the river of souls and into the crypt. He had half a mind where this compass location may be, and pounded down the stairs. He wasnât sure what it was, Cub or just a feeling, but he didnât want to be here too long.
He found the compass location and threw it in, getting his own bandana artifact. The second he picked it up, the dungeon groaned, metal against metal, ice against ice. He could hear ravengers bellowing, running towards him. Hypno looked around, but there was nothing that suggested this was all some kind of prank.
âWhat is happening?â Hypno asked himself. He tightened his bandana, took a deep breath, and ran back up the stairs, only interested in leaving this place.
The coffins around him were rattling, someone was pounding against the stone. He could hear vex screeching, even though he was nowhere near max clank yet. He kept running, sure of his way.
Ravengers lunged at him.The walls were contracting, shuddering violently as the dungeon screamed in his ears-
He fell onto the pressure plates that marked the exit, scrambled to the short chute that would send him to the end of the dungeon, and maybe he could get out and touch some grass or something. He jumped down into the hole, taking deep, gasping breaths as he fell. And he kept falling. Before he could really process that this was a far longer drop then any other time heâd finished the dungeon, he hit a puddle of water with a splash.
âYeah, dungeon isnât happy with you, man.â
Cubfan stood before him, like heâd been there the whole time. The room Hypno had landed in was caked in sculk, all shimmering and almost bulging outwards towards him.
âWhere are we, Cub?â Hypno asked hesitantly, trying to steady his breathing, slowly moving to stand on solid ground. Every instinct the dungeon, and life in general had taught him was that something was very, very wrong.
âThe Burning Dark, of course. Youâre a smart guy, I bet you knew that already. The dungeon thinks youâre smart. Hates that youâre smart. Hates that you donât fear it like you should.â Cub paused, and in that silence was the heartbeat of the dungeon. âAre you scared now, Hypno?â
In a place so void of information, with only sculk and the creeping realization that Cub was not here to save him, Hypnoâs mind raced, but came to no conclusion.
âThe dungeon is hungry, Hypno. You die a lot, but you havenât died for the dungeon yet.â
A sword was in Cubâs hand, and suddenly it wasnât Cub and a creepy room, but a ravenger named ânothing, they survived decked out!â. But there was no button and door here, no pretend savior. Hypno was going to die, sacrificed to the dungeon by this person who wasnât all Cub. Hypno straightened his bandana. Well, if this was going to be how this went down, he wouldnât let the dungeon have the satisfaction of his fear.
âDo you know how sculk works, Hypno?â Cub was advancing, in slow, meaningful steps.
âNo.â Hypno looked him down, didnât move.
âThe more you kill, the more it spreads.â The room was covered in the stuff. How many hermits had come here to die, be sacrificed to keep the dungeon happy?
âWe could just leave, my guy. Touch some grass, talk to other hermits. You donât have to do this.â Hypno said, but he knew his words only absorbed into the sculk. Cub was in front of him now, sword between them.
âRun. Maybe you can escape again.â Cub rasped.
âNo.â Hypno replied. He didnât move. Not even when the blade pierced his heart. He fell in place, sinking to the floor that would take his sacrifice. He could feel Cub kneel beside him, take the bandana off his head.
âYouâre so annoying, Hypno. Canât even die like everyone else.â It wasnât Cub speaking.
Hypno woke up in the Decked Out bed. He gathered his stuff, his deck, and flew away as fast as he could. It wasnât until the citadel was out of sight that he realized that his bandana hadnât respawned with him. He shivered, not knowing what that really meant.