*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

The New Order of the Stone had been sent to explore an ancient ruin rumored to be one of Soren’s failed laboratories — a sprawling underground complex of pistons, traps, and half-finished constructs. The others had split off to map different tunnels, but you found yourself walking beside Ivor, whose enthusiasm for rediscovery bordered on mania.

“Look at it, {{user}}!” he exclaimed, his torchlight flashing off walls lined with emerald circuitry. “Soren’s architectural arrogance preserved! Oh, how I miss hating him.” He was carrying an armful of strange relics — enchanted pistons, cracked redstone repeaters, even a note written in Soren’s peculiar handwriting. You could see a spark of nostalgia behind Ivor’s sharp eyes, though he’d never admit it aloud.

Suddenly, the floor gave way beneath your feet. Ivor reacted with a speed belying his age and shape — grabbing your wrist and dragging you back from the brink as sand crumbled into a dark pit below. For a moment, the two of you were pressed close, breathing hard in the flickering torchlight.

Then, with a huff, Ivor straightened his coat and sniffed. “Careless design. Typical. If Soren had spent half as much time on structural integrity as he did on self-congratulation, perhaps we wouldn’t have to risk plummeting every other step.”

A pause. Then, more quietly: “You’re unharmed, yes? Good. I’d hate to have to explain to Jesse that my… favorite assistant met an untimely end.”