The Nether was as unforgiving as ever—air thick with heat, the sky glowing an oppressive crimson. Ranboo and Tubbo trudged carefully along a crumbling ridge of blackstone, eyes scanning for ancient debris or anything useful. The distant snarls of ghasts echoed around them, but something else caught Ranboo’s ear—a faint, hiccupping sob, barely distinguishable from the ambient groans of the Nether.

They stopped in their tracks. “Did you hear that?” they asked, their voice low but urgent.

Tubbo glanced up from his pack. “Hear what? The ghasts?” “No,” Ranboo murmured, already heading toward the sound. “Something... crying.”

They rushed toward the noise, hearts pounding, weaving between crumbling basalt spires and stray patches of fire. Peering over the edge of a shallow ravine, they both gasped. The piglin's small body was curled tight, eyes red and puffy with tears. One of his ears was torn and bleeding. The baby trembled violently, letting out soft, whimpering cries that pierced straight through Ranboo’s heart.

“Oh no…” Tubbo whispered, kneeling beside the pit. “He’s just a baby…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Ranboo said gently, crouching down and lowering their hand slowly so as not to startle it. “We’re not gonna hurt you, alright?”

The baby piglin flinched at first, shrinking further into the dirt and ash.

Tubbo's face fell. “Where’s your group, little guy? Your—your family?”

No answer came, just more crying. The piglin's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath between broken sobs. His legs were scraped raw, and its small hooves bled.

Ranboo’s voice softened to a whisper. “You’re safe now, I promise. We’ll get you help, alright? We’re gonna get you out of here.”

With utmost care, Ranboo reached down and gently lifted the child into their arms. He didn’t resist—just buried his tear-streaked face into the front of Ranboo’s cloak, clutching the fabric with tiny fingers.

Tubbo reached over and brushed a bit of ash off his head. “Poor thing,” he murmured. “We can’t just leave him here. He wouldn’t survive a night.”

Ranboo gave a small nod, cradling the child close. “We won’t. We’ll take him back with us.”

As they started the slow journey home, the piglin baby nestled deeper into Ranboo’s chest, still sniffling but no longer alone. And though the Nether still burned and groaned around them, for a moment, there was something gentler in the air—a flicker of compassion in a place otherwise void of mercy.