Chapter Text
Herobrine had lost approximately half an hour in dealing with an enraged cousin who flailed his sword at him for insulting his lineage.
'I did not say that,' Hero had said, 'you are being manipulated.'
Dear cousin Aestas stomped his foot into an offensive stance, sword ready to hack at his body. He accused him of being scared.
Herobrine let his staff answer that accusation in clangs and smacks, of course.
Finally, when the god collapsed from a hit to the head, Hero sighed and glanced at his pocket watch.
Twenty minutes, not bad.
He had enough time spare for gathering some blackmail material against his older brother to coerce him into doing the boring tasks for Tomorrow and perhaps even get a good cup of tea on the way-
Clink!
A coin rolled from the exit and tapped against his boot. It fell.
The source of the coin was leaning against a pillar guarding the exit.
Lorenzo’s smile beamed at him, casting a long shadow over Hero, his foot tapping like a metronome counting to combustion.
The Ender of Cycles, the God of Destruction, the White-Eyed Deity, etc., smiled back a thin, sharp smile. (Oh good heavens he can emote!)
The bane of his existence stepped out of the light, saying, “Well. That was fast.”
Lorenzo was unarmed; hence, out of principle, Hero dropped his heavy staff. Lorenzo didn't flinch. He didn't pick his coin up either.
“It was simple.” Hero said.
Lorenzo’s smile widened, but its warmth didn't reach his probing eyes. He chuckled, turning towards Hero. “You say that like you didn't nearly get crushed by a metric tonne of enchanted masonry.”
“I stepped left.” Hero said simply.
It struck Hero at that moment when Lorenzo's eyes darted from his face to his empty hands that he wasn't wasting time but sizing him up.
If Herobrine had some semblance of empathy, he would have suggested he disengage as soon as possible. This was – he thought – just an elaborate trial. An elaborate but stupid one. And set up by none other than the god of intelligence himself in the pursuit of wanting to play at being a predator.
“Oh, sorry. My mistake. Next time I’ll design something that requires more than moving one foot.” Lorenzo said.
“Next time, design something that works.” Herobrine said.
Something cracks deep inside, and Lorenzo blinks at Herobrine, and the smile on Hero’s face grows sharper. He steps towards Lorenzo, who shuffles closer to the pillar. “You're in a mood today,” Lorenzo said.
“I have time to waste.” Herobrine said.
“You always say that. Yet you keep rising to the challenge.”
Herobrine shrugs, a tiny movement. “You keep issuing them.”
Lorenzo laughed, his head thrown back like an old friend would at an inside joke. “You’re welcome, by the way. It must be so refreshing for someone like you to feel pressure. Stimulating. Keeps the circuits sharp.”
Herobrine tilts his head. “That’s what this was? Pressure? ”
Lorenzo opens his mouth only to be cut off by Herobrine, “Because from my perspective, it felt like watching you struggle to keep up.”
Lorenzo freezes. Then forces a cheerful clap of his hands. “You know, you’re funny when you try to be condescending. It’s adorable.”
“I wasn’t trying.”
“Ah, I see.” Lorenzo's eyebrows shoot up, and his eyes snap away from Herobrine. He begins circling Herobrine. “Anyway, the point was to see how you’d handle a conflict of loyalties. And you did exactly what I predicted. Exactly.” He stopped, facing Herobrine. “Like clockwork.”
“If you predicted it, you wouldn’t be standing here waiting for confirmation.”
An involuntary 'oof'! Escaped out of Lorenzo along with a laugh cut short. He muttered something along the lines of, 'You don't understand it.' He moves closer. “You know… for someone who barely talks, you’re ridiculously irritating.”
“You provoke easily.”
“I do not.”
Herobrine gestured his hand towards Lorenzo's face. “You just did.”
No more verbal arrows were shot. Perhaps the quiver was empty, but in the case of Lorenzo, that might not be it. It might be something else. A silent retreat and a change of weapons, maybe. That suits him.
Sensing the other had nothing to say, Herobrine glances at his pocket watch once more. He simply turns away; his staff snaps back to his open palm with a hum.
Herobrine pauses at the doorway. “Fix your trap next time. It was sloppy.”
Lorenzo’s smile drops into a low, murderous glare.
Herobrine doesn't bother turning back.