Chapter Text
Scar was sitting on his bed, absentmindedly patting Jellie as he chatted with Cub on his communicator. He had been staying at Falsewell ever since the fight in Area 77 a few days ago (in Room 6 of the motel, to be exact). Stress had been checking his health status regularly.
He was sure that he was fine, but Stress had ordered him to stay inside the room until he was fully healed up - or else. He did think that he was fully healed up, but apparently not in a professional healer’s eyes.
<cubfan135> wait gtg. concorp awaits
<GoodTimeWithScar> really? see you
There was no reply. Sighing, he turned off his communicator and eased Jellie off his lap. He stretched, and decided that he wanted to go outside for a bit of fresh air. He could face Stress’s wrath later.
He grabbed his coat from where it hung from a hook, and was about to go outside when he heard intense yelling coming from what sounded like the carpark outside.
“You said that Cleo was open for armor stand commissions!” a voice that sounded like False shouted angrily.
A voice that sounded like Impulse laughed. “Why would you believe me? You know that I would never help you.”
Scar peeked through the holes in the iron door. Sure enough, Impulse and False were standing in the carpark, near the truck parked in the middle, and arguing heatedly. Well, False was arguing. Impulse was trying to stifle his laughter.
Scar decided that it would not be a good idea to go outside right now, so he turned away from the door, just as Impulse let out a yelp. He snapped back to attention and went back to watching through the window.
“Don’t grab my hair, you savage!” Impulse cried. He was gingerly holding his head and False was now the one standing back with a satisfied smile.
“Serves you right,” she scoffed.
Impulse let go of his head and reached for his sword.
“Oh, you wanna go?” False challenged, drawing out her sword too.
Impulse was silent as he drew out his blade with a satisfying clang . “Don’t get too cocky.”
False laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”
Their blades met, and they began fighting.
Scar ducked away from the door as if he was afraid they were going to come after him. He didn’t want to get involved in their fight, but there was no way he could go outside when a full-on PvP battle was going on.
He hung his coat back up and was about to resume doing nothing when there was a knock on his door. He saw that it was Iskall.
Of course it’s Iskall. Only Iskall would have such a blatant disregard for the rule of not being within a hundred blocks of False when she’s fighting.
Of course, he’s a formidable opponent himself. He’s killed False a few times as well. He doesn’t have to fear her. Unlike everyone else.
Scar opened the door. Iskall entered politely.
“Hey Scar, how’re you doing?” he asked. Scar beckoned him to sit down on a stool. Jellie purred and stalked over to sit on Iskall’s lap.
“Oh, I’m fine. Could you please tell Stress that I’m fine?”
“Sure,” Iskall agreed. He looked in the general direction of Impulse and False, even though there was a wall between them. “Those two are at it again, huh?”
“Yup,” Scar sighed. “So now I’m stuck in here.”
“You know, I could kill both of them for you,” Iskall offered.
“No way!” Scar said. “I do not want to incur the wrath of False - she’s my host. Also, you might not win against both of them.”
“If you insist,” Iskall sighed.
They lapsed into silence, before Iskall piped up again. “Do you want to see my Impulse and False shipping fanfiction?”
Scar inhaled rapidly and choked on his own spit. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Oh come on , don’t tell me you haven’t thought about them secretly being a couple. They argue like they've been married for a long time,” Iskall laughed.
“No, I literally haven’t, and even if I did, I wouldn’t write literal fanfiction - False would be after me,” Scar answered.
“Still. You wanna read it?” Iskall asked.
“Not at all,” Scar replied. “Also, does it even count as fanfiction if you’re not fans of them?”
Iskall opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he just shrugged.
“Fair enough,” Scar sighed. “Why else are you here?”
“Why do I have to have an agenda to visit my good old friend Scar?” Iskall asked.
Scar rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
“You want to head outside? I’ll protect you,” his companion offered.
He sighed. “Sure, why not.”
They exited to room, with Iskall taking out a shield to deflect any arrows, and holding his sword in his other hand. They sneaked along the balcony as Iskall pointed in the direction of the diner. They had almost made it off of the balcony until -
“Iskall!” False bellowed. Scar turned around to see her deflecting an arrow from Impulse with a sword. She quickly took out her bow and aimed at Scar’s companion, barely missing his forehead.
“What do you want?” Iskall whined as he dived for the door of the diner, leaving Scar utterly helpless in the middle of the road.
Scar watched as False took out a Strength II potion and drank it in one gulp, smashing the bottle onto the floor. Her eyes started glowing dark pink, almost fuchsia. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Iskall85!”
Iskall let out a small squeal as she lunged for him. “What? Hey, I didn’t do anything!”
“Oh yeah? Then what was that book . . . fanfiction . . . that I found in a shulker box of crap in the diner the other day?” she snarled as she swiped at him with her sword.
Scar cringed heavily. It was just so in-character of Iskall to leave such a dangerous item in a shulker box that anyone could come and see the contents of.
“Hey Scar, I’m just going to head over this way,” Iskall said as he ran down the road and gestured to the main road that led to Area 77, ducking to miss an arrow.
“Not so fast!” False warned as she smacked Iskall over the head with her sword. Scar watched as Iskall staggered around dizzily before quickly recovering and making a beeline down the road.
He continued watching as False began chasing after him, and as an arrow whizzed from behind him and struck False in the leg.
He froze and turned to see Impulse holding a bow. He turned back to see False, now in flames, hiss like an angry cat, pat out the flames on her coat, and raise her middle finger at Impulse. Before he could react, she had bolted down the street after Iskall, arrow still in leg, an astonishing feat to attempt due to Iskall’s amazing speed when scared.
He turned back to Impulse, who shrugged and took to the air, leaving Scar alone in the middle of the road. He sighed as he turned back to go to his room.
Argh, why can’t my friends just be normal for once? Not fight each other and just have a good time? A good time with Scar , he added, smiling at his own joke.
He turned to go up to the balcony. He looked up to see none other than Doc, sitting on the stairs outside Room 5, reading a book.
Doc turned and looked up. He waved awkwardly. “Hi.”
The cyborg turned back to his book after scrutinizing him heavily. “Hello.”
They stood awkwardly for a moment before Scar made for his own door. As he opened the door, Doc cleared his throat.
“Have you read this book? It’s very good,” he said.
“Really?” Scar asked curiously. “What’s it called?”
“Imfalse, by Iskall85,” Doc replied.
Scar choked on his spit again. Doc watched him calmly as he coughed. “Oh, wow. Such an … inspiring book.”
“Indeed,” Doc agreed. “It inspires chaos among friends, for it was I who informed False of the existence of this book.”
“Oh, uhh …,” Scar trailed off.
“But it is quite well-written, for something Iskall wrote,” Doc added. Scar nodded agreeably. Doc didn’t say anything else, so Scar went back into his room and fell face-first onto his bed.
Doc sighed as he stood up and took a swig from his water bottle. It wasn’t that he felt responsible for all of the pain that Scar had endured at Area 77, exactly. But he still didn’t feel right . He knew that it wasn’t him, it was whoever had been controlling him, but he knew that to Scar, it had been him all along.
I don’t have to apologize if I don’t want to. Besides, if I did, that would be totally out of character and might cause them to worry more.
They already have to worry about the existence of someone else in the world who possibly hates us and is definitely trying to ruin our lives. Yeah, nah, I think I’ll keep my apologies close to my chest.
But still, the sensible part of his brain argued. Do it for Scar. He’s your friend.
He certainly doesn’t think of me as a friend now. Didn’t you see how he reacted to my attempt at small talk? He was obviously uncomfortable.
But that was because you were talking about the book that had just caused a fight that he had witnessed. He’s not meant to feel comfortable about those things.
Argh! all of his mind screamed. It was almost comforting when his internal debate was interrupted by his communicator beeping.
<Xisuma> Hey guys, we are having a group meeting over at Falsewell since Scar is still resting.
<Xisuma> Please come.
<Grian> bro whyyyyy
<Keralis1> come on, don’t argue with the boss
<Grian> whatever, i’m not coming
<iskall85> i’m tyyring to type but i;m’c urrenly ont he run from false who’se trying to MURDER ME!
<Xisuma> Okay, please come. Meet by the diner?
<ZombieCleo> yeah, whatevs
Doc chuckled slightly at the dialogue. Although he didn’t really enjoy large gatherings of more than one person, he did suppose that this might - just might - help him take his mind off things.
Which was also lucky, since the diner was around twenty blocks away from him - very, very close. He turned off his communicator and stood up.
Scar was trying to ignore the beeping of his communicator, but it was getting on his nerves. And to turn his notifications off, he had to turn on his communicator, thus reading all of the messages and not getting a goddamn break.
Well, I’ve gotta do what I’ve gotta do , he thought as he took his communicator out of his pocket. He had around fifty messages from the other hermits. It seemed like Iskall and False were now fighting via communicator. He scrolled up to see that X had called a meeting in the diner in Falsewell.
He really didn’t want to go, but he had a duty, didn’t he? As a hermit, X trusted him and he had a duty to show up to meetings. He put his communicator away and walked outside.
Hermits were gradually gathering. He could see Tango, an angry False, a jumpy Iskall and a serious Xisuma. Soon, Keralis and Bdubs had arrived from New New Hermitville and Ren had arrived from Speedy Pines.
Scar took a seat on the railing outside the diner as more hermits arrived. Iskall came to sit next to him, and False sat menacingly on his other side. He froze up, worried that the two would start fighting through him.
After a few minutes of tension, all twenty-one of the hermits had arrived and Scar was still in one piece. X climbed up onto a pillar and began talking.
“Thanks for coming, guys,” he began. “I thought you weren’t coming, Grian?”
“What? When did I say that?” Scar heard Grian ask.
X shook his head. “Whatever. So, you may have heard about an event a few days ago, that Doc was -”
“Mind controlled, yeah, we know,” Cleo interrupted. “Anything else you wanted to say?”
“Actually, yes,” X replied. “Ever since the fight, Doc has been having some therapy sessions with Ren. Would you like to share, Doc?”
“No,” Doc muttered, then saw Ren’s death stare from the other side of the crowd. “Fine, fine! I’ve been having therapy sessions with Ren. I’ve found out that I now have a fear of golden carrots but I don’t really feel guilty for ‘my’ actions. Good enough?”
“ Actually ,” Ren cut in, “he’s recovering from his injuries well, and he doesn’t seem to be that affected by the mind control. He says that when he was mind controlled, from what he can remember, that he was unable to fight the mind controller, although he says that when he was mind controlled he felt like he was doing the right thing. Also , he doesn’t remember what he was trying to do. So …”
“What you’re saying is that there’s absolutely nothing we can do to find out the cause of the mind control,” Cub stated.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Ren replied.
“You’re saying that there might be someone who’s deliberately antagonizing us and trying to make our lives miserable,” Zedaph said.
“Yup,” Ren answered. “Also, I have a theory that they’re trying to take over the world and kill us or drive us out.”
“WHAT?” many hermits shouted simultaneously.
“Calm down,” a voice said, but it wasn’t Ren, but what seemed like … Grian? “You can’t possibly believe him. That’s all a load of crap. We all know that we’re the only beings apart from mobs in this world.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Cleo added. “How can you expect us to believe your lies?”
“Oh, maybe it’s because they’re not lies and that it is in your best interests to believe us,” Ren snapped. “You’ll be sorry once these people start actively trying to destroy us.”
“But they won’t , because they don’t exist !” Grian shouted. He stepped back, seething. “We know that we’re the only ones in this world. There’s no way there are others here.”
“How do you think Doc was mind-controlled then?” Ren asked.
“I don’t ,” Grian snapped. “We know that he’s an asshole. This is just another ploy of his to get us to sympathize with him.”
“I’m not -” Doc started.
“What?” Grian asked, exasperated. “An asshole? You can’t possibly expect us to actually believe that.”
“That’s enough,” X called. “Stop arguing!”
Grian, Ren and Doc froze. X sighed.
“Don’t you see how your words are hurting Doc?” he asked. “Cleo, you weren’t at the fight, but Grian - you were at the fight, and you saw how much Doc hurt Scar over the course of Area 77. You should be able to see that Doc wouldn’t do that normally.”
“No, I shouldn’t,” Grian hissed, crossing his arms. X took a deep breath.
“Can we please cooperate?” he asked politely. Grian shook his head.
“You can’t possibly expect us to cooperate while there’s an insane person right there , in public, and you’re not doing anything about him!”
“I’m not insane,” Doc interrupted.
Grian snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Right, that’s enough,” Cub interjected. Everyone turned to look at the scientist. “This meeting is over. Grian, if you’d like to argue with Doc, do it in your own time.”
Scar heard him mutter under his breath, “what a waste of time that was.”
The hermits stood in tense silence, but gradually began to disperse. Grian shot a glare at Doc and he and Mumbo walked off. Iskall and False were now yelling at each other. Scar slowly stood up and began edging towards Room 6 again, before he saw Cleo approaching Doc.
Doc froze as he raised a cup of coffee he had stolen bought from the diner to his lips. Cleo was making her way towards him. Did she want his coffee? But he had worked so hard to get it away from False!
God, I’m so stupid. She was the other one apart from Grian who didn’t believe me - or spoke up about her disbelief.
“Uh, hey, Cleo,” he tried. Cleo rolled her eyes as she stood in front of him.
“I just wanted to let you know that I don’t exactly believe in what you said but I don’t agree with Grian. If you’re lying, then I believe that you’re not lying to be an asshole,” she said.
“Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?” he asked incredulously.
“Not at all,” she snapped. Doc watched as she put on her elytra and flew away, spamming rockets right in his face.
He rolled his eyes and resumed drinking his hard-earned coffee. Cleo was cold and arrogant, sure, but at least she wasn’t his enemy - the last time they had fought, a civil war ensued, and Doc didn’t really feel like doing one of those again.
After he had finished his coffee, he tossed it into the bin, only to find that False was watching him with suspicion. He smiled awkwardly at her, and she strode over into the diner. He watched through the glass as she opened the payment chest to find no diamonds. Her head snapped back, but Doc had already bolted away to his room.
Scar watched with amusement as False ran over to Room 5 and began pounding on the door. He had seen Doc steal the coffee from the diner, and now he was paying for stealing from False.
“FBI, open up!” False barked.
“I’m just a lowly guest in your motel! What did I do to deserve this?” Scar heard Doc wail from inside the room.
“You stole from the Dusty Diner!” she yelled. “If you don’t open your door immediately, I will have no choice but to break it down!”
“It’s not like the door belongs to me,” Doc argued. “The door belongs to you.”
“Whatever!” False shouted. She took out her pickaxe and started taking down the door. Scar sat back down on the fence that he had been sitting on before.
It wasn’t like he blamed Doc, exactly. He knew that Doc would never have done those evil things on his own, and that he had gone through a lot too. But he couldn’t help but feel just the tiniest bit of resentment at Doc’s immediate forgiveness by everybody. It was still the face of Doc that had told him that he would delete himself if he didn’t cooperate. It was still the face of Doc that had fought him and beaten him down.
As Doc made every attempt to keep False out of his room, he saw Scar watching their fight from his perch on the fence outside the diner. The terraformer was watching them with an amused expression on his face, the happiest Doc had seen him since the fight three days ago.
He assumed that he and Scar were on good terms again. He knew that Scar was just a tiny bit uncomfortable around him, maybe, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. There wasn’t much he would do about it. The real problem was Grian. The builder seemed to hate him, which was strange. He was sure that they had had a conversation as soon as he woke up from his unconsciousness and had mended their broken friendship.
Why did he hate Doc? He didn’t remember any asshole action he had done since that conversation, so it was completely not his fault that Grian seemed to hate him.
But still …
~~~
The builder in question was taking a walk ten thousand blocks west of the main island. He had rockets in his right hand and a shulker box tucked under his left arm. He was searching for a plains biome far enough away from spawn that he could pass by undetected, but everything was just desert, desert, desert.
He took a swig from his water bottle and put it back in his bag. His sneakers were filling up with sand uncomfortably, and he had to stop after every two minutes to empty out his shoes.
He was looking for a large plains biome that he could build in. It was almost Ren’s birthday and he wanted to make something for his ex-hippie brother. He checked his communicator for his location. Yup, he was 11, 378 blocks away from 0,0.
He stopped to empty out his shoes, and as he poured the sand from his left shoe, he saw a flash of green in the distance. Was that a plains biome? He put his shoe back on and ran forward.
Indeed it was. And it was quite big as well. He put down an ender chest and took out many shulker boxes of resources. Time to get to work.
~~~
The Grian in Hermitland, however, was walking around with Mumbo. They were having a delightful discussion about nothing at all as they took a stroll. He was attempting to get close to the moustached redstoner just like the real Grian was, but the man was just - he didn’t know how to describe it, but he was just … a spoon.
Hocus pocus, you must focus , he thought to himself. Remember what you’re here for. Remember what you’re doing.
They were walking around the oldest part of Hermitland, the part closest to Area 77. He turned to Mumbo. “So, I’m thinking of making a minigame. It’s called Demise and the last person to not die gets all the entry diamonds.”
“Do you think that that’s really a good idea? I mean, sure, it’s Halloween next month, but this might distract us from our main projects …”
“Oh calm down, Mumbo,” he replied. “Don’t you think that we’re a bit too stressed all the time?”
“But for good reason! There might be someone else trying to sabotage us in the world!” Mumbo protested. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
“Don’t worry,” said the Grian. “Everything’s going to be just fine .”