Some Gameknight999xDSMP crossover fanfiction for a cabin war.
Note: Idk if was clear, but time doesn’t exactly work the same way between the two worlds. I’m not sure on the specifics ‘cus I don’t feel like doing math, but several days in Crafter’s world is just one in the one Gameknight is in currently. Despite this, our heroes (Gameknight999 characters + Tommyinnt) are not going to arrive in time for this chapter’s happenings. >
Shoutout to Scratch Writing Camp for forcing me to get this done.
Cws: Fighting, almost-major-injury, threat of loss of flight/limbs, self blame, mentions of blood and temporary death. Nobody who gets hurt or “dies” in this chapter will stay hurt forever.
At that happy thought, he glanced over his shoulder to check if everyone was still with him, and was relieved to see that they were. He let out a breath
he hadn't known he had been holding. They were here, all of them.
He glanced around, noticing that the others were doing the same, his armor feeling hot on his skin from the trip into the nether now that he had grown accustomed to the temperature out in the air. But if this was spawn, why did it look so different?
He stared out at the empty expanse in front of him, an endless black plain. But other than the occasional purple glow of a portal piece, or the threatening twist of a half hidden nether crystal, it was empty, nothing at all like the mountains of stone crests and lava casts that he had seen with Etho in the Land of Dreams.
He looked to the polar bear hybrid for explanation, but he seemed just as confused (or scared) as Gameknight felt. Clearly, neither of them had been expecting to greet this sight when they had stepped into that portal.
It was utterly and completely silent. (Save for the distant echoes of wither explosions, infinite distances below them, hidden in the shadows of this massive obsidian sky.)
“At least we'll see if anyone tries to sneak up on us?” Gameknight started, and then immediately wished he hadn't. Due to his time as a fighter in his server, he knew better than anyone that saying something like that was just begging to get ambushed (and based on the look that Fit gave him, Gameknight wasn't the only one who wished that he had kept his mouth shut.)
“The coast is clear for now,” Fit hissed, clearly trying to be quiet (for the first time, Gameknight noticed that his elytra seemed to have been modified to fit in in precisely these sorts of dark, empty, terrifying, areas of land), ”If we keep walking that way,“ he gestured in the direction all of them were facing, ”we'll find the border to the country,“
”That simple huh?“ Etho murmured, clearly just as up to tempting fate as Gameknight had been just moments previously.
In fact, the group was just about to set out in the direction Fit had indicated, when a sudden darkness rose from the obsidian below their feet. For a second, the shapes moved so fast, shooting up into the sky like birds, that Gameknight hardly made out that it was a group of more griefers, each poised to attack anything that got in their way. There were at least eleven of them.
“Watch out!” Phil yelled, leaping into the air with a beat of his mighty wings, “They're armed!”
Quickly, the group scattered, each bursting a rocket at his feet to follow into the sky. Gameknight felt a small burn in his fingers as he realized another rocket, quickly gaining speed as he shot towards the griefers. As they had discussed in the Nether, there was no use running in these situations, but oh how he wished they didn't have to fight.
He drew both his swords, letting a sudden wind take him towards the griefers rather than a rocket.
He had fought like this before, in that odd time that Entity had created for him, and though Gameknight was never happy with the endings of those battles, he was at least glad he had an idea what he was doing. Gameknight swooped forward, surprising one griefer, a heavily armored fighter that seemed a bit slower on wing than the rest, and sliced a clean arch through the elytra on his back.
It was smooth and quick, and as the griefer exploded into a burst of items and other stuff that Gameknight didn't want to see, the others drew back for a second. To his side, he heard Techno whoop out an impressed whistle. Clearly his fighting technique was an effective one.
But Gameknight's hands shook, and he steadied himself with a third rocket before switching back to his sword.
All of this was too familiar. He didn't want to have to fight like this, not again. …But he knew he had too.
Gameknight felt a shadow pass over him as another griefer dove towards him, and he just barely managed to redirect out of the way before they rocketed past him, putting a dent in his shoulder plate as the flat end of a sword swiped at him.
For a few seconds he was spinning out of control, but he regained himself quickly enough to take in his new opponents. Or was that two new opponents, he wondered, dodging away from a second griefer, their trident stabbing exactly where his head had been before he had dived.
The one who had dove at him was quickly gaining altitude again, a dull sword that looked to be entirely made out of copper in their hand, and elytra wings that seemed to be reinforced even further than anyone else's were. Some sort of inventor perhaps? Gameknight dove towards them, partially to get away from the one who was stabbing at him with a trident, and partially to get a shot at that flimsy looking sword.
He swooped and stabbed, quickly making his strength known as the incapacitated griefer after griefer, some falling to the ground and scrambling away, an explosion of totem dust surrounding them as they fought to find extra elytra in their inventories, and others instantly exploding on impact.
He had no time to check how his friends were doing, only noticing the occasional dart of a fishing pole as Etho dragged the fallen griefers back into the fray, or the yelp of pain as Techno knocked another to the floor. Once, Fit blasted past Gameknight, and based on the words coming from the mouth of the griefer trailing him, it seemed he was doing well for himself.
Gameknight continued to fight, sending what felt like endless numbers of griefers spiraling down to the obsidian floor as he swooped through the air. He didn't enjoy what he was doing, but he forced himself to remember what he was fighting for. Had these people somehow made their way onto his and his friend's server, there was no doubt in his mind that they would have done exactly the sorts of things he used to delight in. (The reminder of his past kept his mood sour, and in turn kept him going.)
The wind on his face felt like it had back then, like the breath of the Oracle was reaching him and pushing him on. He was doing this for his friends. He could do this.
He continued to fight.
But eventually, he ran into a new problem.
Gameknight, though he did not enjoy the violence of what it ended in, had no problem slicing the elytra that was attached loosely to the griefer's backs, but he couldn't find it in himself to harm real wings. This wouldn't have been a problem, of course, if he hadn't gotten an eagle hybrid on his tail. But, as always with his luck, the exact thing that he had wished against was quick to burden him.
Not only did his fake wings (and frankly rather clumsily administered rockets) have absolutely nothing on the speed of a diving hybrid who had clearly spent their entire life practicing the attack, but he was also scared to hurt them. As he dodged yet another swipe of the hybrid's netheright enforced claws, he couldn't help but imagine Phil in the griefer's shoes.
How could he do that to his friend?
Gameknight ducked down from the sky, all but crashing to the obsidian floor as he fought to escape his attacker. His armored elytra first fell heavily to his back as he landed, but they quickly flared behind him as he broke into a mad dash across the obsidian.
Above him, the eagle hybrid swooped, their unhinged cackle much more clear than it should have been over the din of battle as Gameknight sprinted away from them. There was no way he could outrun something that fast, and the griefer clearly knew that.
”Run for your life little rabbit,“ they taunted, swooping down close enough to easily stab him, ”I could get you if I wanted!“
They were playing with him, like a cat (or, an eagle?) would play with a mouse. Gameknight did not have to force the terror onto his face, a fact that was beneficial to his plan as he sprinted full tilt towards one of the many nether crystals that decorated the obsidian roof, hoping against hope that the griefer would not see what he was doing until it was too late.
The raced full tilt forward, the eagle flying easily behind him, yelling taunts the whole way, until his feet ached and his chest burned with the acrid smell of spawn. The nether crystal was just a few blocks away now, just a few more leaps, just a second more…
At the last moment, Gameknight dove for the ground, remembering some kind of crazy fact about nether crystals only hurting if you were on the same level or above them, as slid under the twisting mess. Behind him, the eagle hybrid gave a squawk of alarm, but they had no way to slow down as they crashed headlong into the thing.
Instantly, an explosion sounded behind him, and Gameknight yelled out in pain as parts of it ripped through him, slicing into his already damaged armor, but thankfully not reaching the soft flesh inside.
Instantly, he scrambled for food, hungrily choking it down as he fought to defeat the burning sensation that covered his legs and feet. If he had to guess, he was on about one or two hearts. As a result, he was, in fact, so caught up in healing that he didn't even realize that the attacker had been defeated until he looked behind himself and saw the mess that had been left over.
For a second, he just stared, his mouth falling open as he stared at the items and splattered blood that now covered the obsidian around where the nether crystal had been. Shaken, he almost wanted to curl back up into a ball and hide, but as a sudden squawk of alarm alerted him, there was still much more horror to see.
Gameknight looked up in terror, just in time to see a griefer, the very last of them, toss a bucket of boiling lava towards Phil. Despite the speed of the seasoned flier, Gameknight could tell that there was no way that he could escape such a close range throw.
“No!” He screamed, practically throwing a rocket behind him as he shot towards his friend, “NO!”
The world was suddenly in slow motion, a twisting silence cutting through the sounds of battle as all of Gameknight's teammates twisted in the air to see what was happening. Phil's eyes were wide in abject terror, no doubt remembering an old battle scar as his dark wings stiffened, righting in the path of the molten rock.
If something like that burned those wings, there was reason to believe he would never fly again.
Gameknight reached out an arm as Phil screamed, the lava hitting his wings with a splash and sending him spiraling down. In turn, Gameknight heard himself scream, his safety forgotten as he dove after his fallen friend.
This couldn't be happening.
This was all his fault!
Gameknight screamed out again, regret filling his entire body as the wind picked up around him. Tears bloomed in his eyes, his ears echoing with another alarmed shout as Techno saw what was happening. This was all Gameknight's fault, if he hadn't shown up here, Phil would never have gotten burned. He could hardly see through the tears, the world slowed around him as Phil's body twisted to look up at him.
Why was he smiling?
Gameknight gasped, watching as Phil unfurled his wings below him. Instead of being badly burned, his feathers seemed absolutely fine, even a little shinier than normal.
Gameknight felt a twitch in his head as he remembered something.
Phil's Fire Rez potion.
Faster than any rocket, Phil blasted past Gameknight, a thin trail of particles following him as he swooped at the griefer who had attempted to cut him down.
The griefer's face, hardly visible below their helmet, showed just enough skin to show an expression of pure shock, at least before Phil's sword ran right through them. Gameknight had just enough time to cover his head before the resulting rain of inventory items and chunks of armor and blood rained down around him.
For a second there was just silence as the group tried to process what they had seen, but Phil quickly broke it, his completely unharmed wings slicing through the air like the strongest swipes of any blade.
”Well,“ said Phil, wiping his hands on the front of his still steaming chestplate, ”That sure was something, huh?”
Behind Gameknight, Techno began openly bawling, and Fit began to laugh. (And was it just Gameknight's imagination, or was that distinctly glad expression on Etho's face aimed towards Phil? Like he was more glad that the bird hybrid had made it out of the battle unburned than the fact that he had managed the same feat.)
As Phil flew over to comfort Techno, who seemed too unfocused in his tears to keep his flying straight, Fit directed the group forward. Towards the border they flew, words of congratulation shared around as they all cheered at their survival.
In the moment, basking in the glow of their victory, it almost felt like they could do anything.
…But despite the sounds of victory as the group complemented each other on their skills, Gameknight felt a hollow pit open in his stomach. This was not by any means the final show, and they all knew it.
