Chapter Text
“Remember, you’ve gotta loosen the ground with the shovel first and then plant the flower,” Ren instructed.
“Yeah, I got that,” Grian muttered under his breath. He took out his shovel again and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
The three hippies were planting flowers in Area 77 following the flower power launch of the slime block RV. Ren was instructing Grian and Impulse on how to plant flowers effectively, having done it for far longer than both of them.
They were currently planting flowers on the stretch of lawn between the “HIB” headquarters and the wall of hangars next to the runway.
Impulse finished off one last lilac at the entrance to Hangar 13. “Okay, let’s continue!”
“No! There’s still plenty of space to plant more flowers!” Ren protested.
“Sounds like a great idea!” Grian said loudly. “I think the dirt patches between the runways might need a bit of work.”
“What? No!” Ren shouted desperately.
Grian smiled at Impulse. “Okay, Impulse. Let’s go over there, shall we?”
They both ignored Ren’s protests and began running over to the airstrip.
As Grian placed some more shulker boxes of flowers and bone meal, he saw Ren running to catch up to them. He knew he would, because Ren didn’t want to miss out on anything.
They began turning over the ground and planting flowers there. Impulse and Ren were assigned to the two long strips of grass and dirt between the three main runways and Grian was assigned to the small patches of dirt and grass between the entrances of each hangar.
Grian grabbed a few stacks of each type of flower he had in the shulker boxes and began planting them in the land he was assigned. He didn’t care about what Ren had said about the shovels and simply planted flowers the normal way.
Impulse waved to Ren. “Oh hi, Ren! Didn’t see you there. One might actually assume that you were afraid of being left out so you joined us!”
“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Ren muttered.
Grian was working his way systematically around his patch of grass when he heard a shout.
He froze, hands immediately going to his rockets. The shout had sounded like Scar, and it had sounded like a fearful one too … what was happening?
He whipped his head up to look in the direction of where the sound had come from. He was looking at the entrance to the closest hangar.
He cautiously peered around the corner and was almost hit in the face with a trident. He jerked back, Doc’s trident sinking into the wall and returning to its master.
“Guys, come over here!” he yelled, turning to Ren and Impulse who were still busy planting flowers together. Impulse heeded the instructions immediately and Ren cast a despairing look at the flowerless plains before following him.
Impulse ran up to Grian, who was standing in front of the entrance to one of the hangars in the side of the hill. He didn’t know why Grian looked so panicked.
Then he realized why as he observed a certain cowboy being chased by a creeper cyborg. Scar was in hangar.
He took out his sword and rushed in. Doc was busy chasing Scar, so he easily managed to kick him in the back of the knees.
Doc stopped for a second, then turned around.
“Hippie,” he growled.
“Area 77,” Impulse answered shortly.
He brought his blade up to meet Doc’s and they began fighting.
Scar staggered over to the entrance. He was bleeding from many cuts all over his body and everything hurt, so, so much.
He saw Grian and Ren come into the hangar. Were they angry at him? Were they going to be angry at him?
He could only think of those two things as he collapsed onto the floor.
Ren rushed up to Scar. The man was so injured and obviously weak.
“Call someone!” Ren told Grian. He turned away to Scar and fished out some clean bandages from his pocket.
He gently wrapped some of Scar’s wounds with bandages. There wasn’t much he could do other than that, since he didn’t have any potions he could use.
Grian got out his communicator.
<Grian> anyone who is available, area 77 NOW
<Grian> emergency
He put his communicator away to see Impulse and Doc fighting. He too, got out his sword and started to attack Doc.
Impulse sensed that Grian was going to try and attack Doc as well when the small hippie drew his sword. “You’re not going to help, Grian.”
“O-ok,” Grian nodded. “What do I do then?”
Impulse would sigh if it wasn’t so risky. He parried a blow from Doc. “I don’t know, go help Ren?”
“I got this!” Ren called. “He’s very weak though.”
Grian turned from watching Doc and Impulse fight to Ren, who was helping Scar sit up against the wall. He walked over and crouched. “Do you need anything?”
“Maybe some potions?” Ren asked. “That would be great!”
Grian thought about it. Perhaps there were some in Hippieland? “Wait a sec!”
Ren watched as Grian bolted through the entrance. Where he was going was of no concern to him, as long as he came back with useful potions.
Scar opened his eyes. He was weak, but at least his wounds didn’t hurt as much as they used to. They still hurt, though.
Impulse parried blow after blow from Doc. He was getting tired, but he hoped that Doc couldn’t tell.
It was quite relieving, honestly, when X arrived.
Ren immediately noticed. “X!”
“Geez, what happened here?” X asked. Behind him, Iskall was attempting to get a better look at what was happening. False was keeping a steady hand on her sword and Stress was looking very worried.
False and Iskall simultaneously rushed over to where Impulse and Doc were fighting. As Iskall engaged in battle. False kicked Doc in the shins, causing him to fall over.
Iskall proceeded to sit on Doc.
Grian rushed through the entrance again, brandishing a few bottles of potions. He ran over to Ren and Scar and handed over the bottles.
Ren checked the labels very carefully. They did seem to be healing and regeneration potions, which was strange considering Grian’s love of renaming important objects.
He splashed a few onto Scar, who was still too weak to talk or sit on on his own.
Stress gasped as she saw Scar. She bustled over and began inspecting the very injured and very weak man. “Iskall, can you get me some -”
“Can’t, I’m sitting on Doc,” Iskall hollered.
Stress rolled her eyes and sighed.
“What do you need?” Ren asked.
“I was goin’ to ask for potions, but you’ve already applied ‘em,” Stress answered. “Good job, by the way.”
While they were talking, False and X were inspecting Doc.
“Why do you think he did that?” False asked.
“I honestly have no idea,” X shrugged.
False wanted to say something about the mind control theory, but X was already talking.
“I don’t think we should let him stay with us. We can drop him off somewhere far away and he can fend for himself,” he said. “It’s not safe to let him stay here.”
“Yeah, I can’t sit on him forever,” Iskall added.
“I-” False began, but was interrupted by her own thoughts.
What if he’s actually bad? Ren, Scar and Stress say that he’s not, but they don’t actually have any proof, right? Plus, he’s hurt us and we don’t know if he’s actually mind-controlled or not.
She nodded. “But X, are you sure?”
“Very sure,” X answered.
Iskall was rifling through Doc’s pockets to confiscate any equipment. He took out all his tools, his stowed armor, and his communicator.
“What are you going to do?” Grian asked.
“Probably drop him off a few million blocks from here. He can fend for himself. I don’t want to delete him permanently,” X replied.
He began typing on his admin communicator to teleport Doc three million blocks away. He didn’t want to do it, but he had no choice.
As he typed, he remembered how he, along with the other hermits, had met Doc, back in their third world. The cyborg had seemed prickly and was constantly suspicious. At least now they knew why.
“Wait,” Stress cut in. “Wait. Before you do it, X, why don’t we ask ‘im a few questions?”
“Seems sensible,” False agreed.
X sighed. “Fine, you do it, False.”
“Wha’ about me?” Stress asked indignantly.
“Who are you and why are you doing this?” False demanded.
The cyborg on which Iskall was sitting on laughed. “Why, I’m Doc. I thought you knew that, Falsey.”
“Don’t call me Falsey!” False snapped. “WHY did you try to kill Scar?”
“Why do I need a reason?” Doc asked.
“Because unprovoked attacks result in unprovoked punishments,” she answered.
Doc began laughing. It was a harsh and terrible sound, and False had to cover her ears for a bit. “They were not unprovoked attacks, darling False. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“That’s it. I’ve heard enough,” X cut in. “Let’s exile -”
Someone coughing interrupted them. Everyone turned to look at Scar, who had regained some of his energy. The wound on his face had healed without a scar.
“Don’t move, Scar,” Impulse instructed. “You’re still weak.”
“Don’t exile him,” Scar interrupted.
“Excuse me?” X asked.
“He told me, yesterday, that he was mind controlled. And this morning he ate the golden carrots again and fell back under control,” Scar added.
X waved his arms. “You can’t possibly believe that.”
“Please, X, I know it,” Scar begged. “Come on, you’ve got to believe me.”
“Is this true?” X demanded, turning to Doc, who was uncomfortably sandwiched between Iskall and the floor.
‘Doc’ made direct eye contact with Scar and chuckled. “Oh, it’s true. But knowing it won’t stop anything. You might as well spend your last days in ignorance.”
It let out a bone-chilling laugh and its eyes flashed red. Then it was gone.
Doc’s head was spinning. He was so dizzy, and Iskall was sitting on top of him.
“Can you get off me?” he snapped.
“Oh, sure!” Iskall replied, and hastily climbed off.
Doc stood up and stretched. “Did it happen again? Was it because of the golden carrots?”
“Probably,” Scar answered.
“Damn.” Doc scowled.
“Erm, I think that you guys should get some rest,” False suggested. “You’ve been through a lot. We can get you settled in Falsewell.”
“I bet it’s because you finally want to have proper visitors to your town,” Impulse muttered.
False smacked him on the head with her shovel.
“Ow, what’d you do that for?” he complained.
“Watch what comes out of your mouth,” she snapped. “Soon, you’ll be in Falsewell and I hold all power there.”
Impulse rolled his eyes and decided, for one last time, that he would shut his mouth. But next time, he promised himself, he would speak up against False.