Chapter Text
Something felt off.
Grian opened his eyes. Everything was quiet, and as far as he was aware, he was the only person around. He looked up at the sky, a pale morning blue. White, blinding sunlight burned his eyes, and he instinctively squinted. Anxiety made his chest pound and his breathing was coming in short, exhausted gasps.
He wasn’t home anymore.
He held out a shaky outstretched palm, just to make sure what he was seeing wasn’t a dream or some sort of illusion. His hand obstructed the sun’s light, and he felt definite heat that was far too real. He forced himself to calm down and relax, although any logical thought he had, he shoved aside in favour in blind panic.
You won’t be able to go back. Get up. A voice in his head said. He wanted to argue; he wanted to shout; he wanted to scream , but when he opened his mouth, only a throaty croak came out. He swallowed and made himself sit up. The tension that his muscles held evaporated, replaced only by fatigue. The urge to lie down and sleep until this turned out to be a bad dream chipped away at his brain, but he forced himself to stay awake.
Look around, the voice repeated, devoid of emotion. Despite, or perhaps in spite of the lack of any tone, it made Grian feel uneasy. He followed its instructions and turned his head around, trying to comprehend his surroundings.
He was near the shoreline of what appeared to be a large ocean. Its salty smell was strong and putrid, and Grian swallowed again, slightly nauseous. He turned his attention away and looked the other direction, into a grassy forest atop some hills. He noted the thick woods, which held an abundance of oaks. There seemed to be more land ahead of it, but Grian knew he wouldn’t go too far from where he was any time soon.
Grian closed his eyes for a moment, immediately aware of the singeing heat and how much of a nuisance the sun would be. He let himself think that was his biggest worry for a second, and silently wished it truly was.
Instead, his most pressing problem was that he had left the other Evolutionists.
He didn’t even remember how. All he remembered was falling into the End with the others, but things got foggy whenever he tried to think about what happened next. He vaguely recalled himself fighting the Enderdragon, but couldn’t figure out anything else.
Grian took in a deep sigh.
There’s nothing you can do about it, he told himself, in an absurd form of comfort. You’re here now.
And you’ll never go back, the voice replied in agreement. Move.
Grian squinted in uncertainty, but heaved himself up after realising that sitting around doing nothing wasn’t the best course of action.
He patted the dust off his pants and shook off his red jacket, which fell onto the grass behind him. He forced himself towards the shore of the ocean, hoping the water would cool him down and motivate him to work on a safe base for the night.
Grian cupped a handful of water in his palms and closed his eyes as he let it run down his face. It wasn’t as cool as he hoped it would be, but he felt the aching pain in his jaw ease a little. He took one last glance at the water and jumped back with a start.
Small dots started to connect, and he slowly began to remember.
He was meant to join the Watchers.
Finally, you caught on. The voice had returned. Grian sat in horrified silence, still staring at his reflection in the water. Something was wrong - horribly wrong. A cluster of eyes rested on his neck, like a colony of ants, and in terrifying sync, their pupils turned to look back at Grian. He looked away instantly, drawing in a sharp breath. He marched back to where he had rested originally, and put on his jacket again, zipping it up to his neck. He was willing to put up with the blazing hot weather if he didn’t have to pay attention or see anything regarding the Watchers.
I don’t have time for this.
The voice laughed in its empty, vacant tone. Then, it said, what other thing could occupy your time? Time isn’t the problem. You have all the time in the world.
Grian shook his head and broke into a sprint towards the clump of trees by the hills. He wanted nothing to do with the voice. He wanted it to disappear.
It won’t be that easy to get rid of us.
He hurled his fist at the trunk of an oak, frustration and anger fuelling him. As he heard the blood roar in his ears and his heart pound, he realised that the voice had gone silent, at least for now.
Cowards. He thought.
Just as the voice had vanished, Grian heard a loud noise, somewhat reminiscent of a firework, emerge from the opposite direction. Tensing, he turned to face it. Suddenly the silence of the voice seemed much more sinister. Had it gone to plan something? Grian felt uneasy, although another, slightly more unlikely prospect took his mind off the concern. He blinked thoughtfully. Maybe it was afraid.
In what used to be a normal, empty clearing, stood a nether portal. It had just sparked open; a large, shimmering sheet of purple that swirled and hissed. Grian foolishly hoped it was the other Evolutionists, but he quickly put that idea aside along with a pang of grief. He forced his attention back to the portal, which made the familiar, deep sinking noise portals made when someone was coming through.
Whoever was about to come out, Grian truly didn’t know.