Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Mumbo! How did your test go?”

Mambo sighed and rubbed his nose, messy black hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. “You know how it is, False. I’m terrible at sports. I’m pretty sure I failed.”

“Don’t say that!” False clapped Mumbo’s back. “You’ll be fine!” she said in what she hoped was an encouraging way.

“I’m so gonna get into 3-H next year,” Mumbo muttered. “Being good at academics really doesn’t mean a single thing in this school…”

False gulped, her heart sinking upon the mention of the infamous 3-H. In a school where sports and combat mattered the most, those who were bad at it would be sent to class 3-H in their third year. All the delinquents and rule-breakers would be sent there too. They would be forced to study in a tiny shack away from everyone in the main campus. False heard there was no air conditioning, and she knew the shack was situated on top of a hill so it would take an extra thirty minutes to walk up there. Not to mention these 3-H students were at the bottom of the school’s social hierarchy, and would be bullied and discriminated against by everyone. According to their principal, Principal Stanley “Stan” Twitt, who had rather… questionable morals, 3-H was meant to encourage the students to work hard so they wouldn’t suffer in the 3-H “H as in Hermit” class. 

False and Mumbo were friends before they got into this school, and False had always known Mumbo as a genius computer student with a passion for filming. She never saw him as “weak” or “bad at sports”, because flaws didn’t define a person. But now this stupid school with its stupid principal was forcing False’s friends to believe they were worthless. False clenched her fist-

“You’ll definitely be fine though, Falsie.” Mumbo gave her a weak grin. “Maybe you’ll even get into 3-A. You’re the best PvPer out of all of us.”

The duo hurried to the cafeteria where the rest of their friends were waiting for them. A familiar voice shouted out, “Over here!”

“Hey Iskall, hey Stress.” False nodded towards her friends, and she set down her lunch tray. “Where’s Ren?”

Iskall rolled his eyes. “No idea. Maybe he got into trouble for flirting with girls again. Who knows with him,” he said casually.

“Iskall!” Stress glared at him. “How can you sound so nonchalant?” she demanded. 

“Well, I mean, Ren always accidentally gets into trouble,” Iskall replied with a shrug. “Mumbo, are you sitting with us or are you going with that Brian friend of yours?”

“Oh, uhh, hi.” Mumbo’s eyes scanned the cafeteria nervously. “Yeah, I’ll be having lunch with him… he’s a little clingy nowadays. By the way, his name’s Grian.”

“Oh. Sure,” Iskall said in a way that all his friends knew he wasn’t going to remember Grian’s name. “Good job, Mumbo. Abandoning us for this random blond guy. How did your bromance begin again? On a slide?”

Mumbo’s cheeks flushed. “I know it sounds weird but that’s actually what happened, mate. Slides are really cool, you know.” Mumbo’s eyes darted to the left and to the right. 

Iskall laughed and waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah whatever. Bye, Mumbo. Have fun with Bryon.”

“His name is Grian,” Mumbo muttered under his breath, but didn’t protest further since he knew Iskall wouldn’t listen to him.

“You’re still walking home with us, right Mumbo?” False called as Mumbo walked away.

“Yeah! If I’m not dead by the time school ends!”

The three of them ate in silence. Next to their table were their friends Scar and Cub, who were enthusiastically discussing rockets and spaceship designs. False knew Iskall, Stress, Ren, Scar, Cub, and some of their other friends Python and Wels were in the same class in their first year, and hence they formed a close bond. False was glad she and Mumbo were integrated into their tight knit circle. Their group of designers, crafters, art kids, science kids, and prospective architects, engineers, movie directors, music producers all stuck together. If no one was going to appreciate their creativity and drive, they were going to do it themselves.  

Footsteps pattered behind them and a panting Ren came into view. “Sorry dudes, just had a meeting with a teacher.” False instantly noticed that Ren looked uncharacteristically somber, and she knew her friends had picked it up as well.

“Ahh… I see,” Stress said, keeping her tone neutral to avoid upsetting Ren.

Ren slid into his seat. “Well. I was just told I would be getting into 3-H.” He laughed, but it was a hollow laugh. 

False gripped her fork. “What? We haven’t even had finals yet! It’s too early to decide—“

Ren shot her a withered look. “Yeah. About that. Apparently I did so badly in the previous tests and exams that even if I ace the finals, I’ll be dropped down to 3-H anyway.”

“Oh.”

False and Iskall, knowing they were the best in PvP among the four, wisely decided to shut up.

“Well… it’s not all bad! At least you can stop worrying about sports and work on something else!” Stress attempted to comfort him. “S-sorry if that sounded patronising… to be honest, I feel like I’m going to be demoted to 3-H as well.”

“I sincerely hope you don’t,” Ren said.

“At least we’ll have each other if I’m in 3-H.” Stress tried to smile. “That’s the silver lining!”

“Come on, you know we’ll still be friends even if some of us get into 3-H!” Iskall patted Ren and Stress’ shoulders. 

“Yeah! We won’t be converted by those egotistical PvPers and their unfair systems, I promise you all!” False chimed in. 

This time, Ren’s small smile looked genuine. “Yeah, thank you. I trust you guys. Nothing can separate us.”

When False saw Ren next morning, he looked like he had spent the rest of the night crying. He was clearly trying to hide it though, so False wouldn’t bring it up.

“Hi, neighbour.” 

“Morning, Ren.”

They lived pretty close to each other, so technically False knew Ren before she met Mumbo, but they didn’t really interact until they got into the same school. Getting close to someone who walked with you to school every day for two years was pretty much inevitable. They would meet at the same tree every day, at the same time, without fail. Occasionally, False would munch on bananas to give her that extra boost of energy before school (bananas were her favourite food, partly because Mumbo made a fool of himself by screaming “BANANAS! BANANAS!” at the wrong time. No, False would not elaborate.)

“Mumbo and I are gonna work on a filming project today. He’s going to bring his expensive camera.”

“Mmhmm.” False was busy eating a banana. “Sounds cool.”

“You doing anything, Falsie?”

“I’m hopefully gonna finish one of my building designs today.” 

Designing. That was what brought all of them together. Their love for the arts and the science separated them from their classmates who were only concerned about attacking and reflexes and wrestling. If False remembered correctly, Mumbo’s new best friend Grian was extremely talented at designing buildings and had even won awards before. (Mumbo had often said he was “shit” at designing buildings and was much better at designing machines. Funny how he and Grian instantly became best buddies.)

The two were soon joined by Iskall, Stress, and Mumbo, who all lived in the same area. The five fell into their usual routine of bantering. Mumbo took out his precious camera and he and Ren instantly started fanboying over it. 

“This camera costs a fortune,” Mumbo told everyone excitedly. “I begged my parents for months to get me this for my birthday… and I had to do all the chores for three months to show that I really wanted this camera…”

“Now just don’t be a spoon and drop it,” Iskall laughed. 

“Aww, don’t jinx it!” Stress pinched Iskall’s arm. 

“I’ll probably cry if someone steals this or something.” Mumbo carefully put his camera away. He rubbed his hands together. “Argh, my palms are getting sweaty.”

“Yeah, I’m also sweating in places where I’m not supposed to be sweating!” Ren giggled. 

False snuck a look at Ren. He looked a lot happier now, and she was glad his filming project with Mumbo raised his spirits. 

False knew it sounded cheesy, but so long they had their friends, False was sure they would be alright.

During P.E., False and Cub quietly watched their classmates spar. There was one fight in the middle of the gym that attracted everyone’s attention, and False squinted at the two figures. “That’s Techno, right?”

Technoblade, the Blood God. Everyone feared him. His signature pink braid whipped back and forth as he pounced and attacked his opponent, which was some guy with lime green hair that False could never remember the name of. 

“Who’s the other guy? Fruitberries?” False asked.

Cub chortled. “Wrong again. That’s Dream. False, how come you always mix these two up?”

“It’s not my fault they look similar,” False replied defensively. 

Dream was the most popular student in their school, and one of the best PvPers. He and his friends called themselves “The Dream Team” (False thought that was a terrible name. Cub agreed). Along with two other students, Pete and Fruitberries, they were known as the “Green Gods” due to their legendary skills and similar green hair. False knew how Pete looked like, and she knew how Fruit looked like— she just kept on mistaking Dream for Fruit. All her friends thought it was hilarious that she couldn’t remember what the massively popular Dream looked like but firmly remembered least popular Green God. And apparently, others always mistook Fruit for Dream. Only False made the mistake the other way round.

“You’re such a Fruitberries stan,” Iskall had teased her. “He’s the only Green God who matters to you. Dream who?”

False had replied with, “I haven’t ever spoken to him.”

Everybody knew Dream would be the leader of the student council next year. No one could contend with him. Not even Technoblade. 

“That’s Fruit over there.” Cub nudged False and pointed at two figures sparring with wooden swords. One was Fruit, and the other was a brunet that False didn’t really know. Fruit struck the other guy and he yelled, “Man! Fruit, you’re insane!”

“Whoa, geez, that guy has a loud voice,” Cub muttered. False hummed in agreement. 

Somebody suddenly darted behind Cub and False. It was Mumbo. “Hide me for a bit, will you? I think I just saw those 2-A goons that I may or may not have angered.”

“Wait wait wait.” False held up a hand. “Mumbo, what did you do?” Sure, Mumbo was mildly annoying in the “little brother” way, but False couldn’t see Mumbo making any real enemies. He was too nice and… mild. 

Mumbo grinned sheepishly. “Yesterday, these PvPers were laughing at how badly I did on my test. I wasn’t having any of it so I told them something about brains over brawn. And apparently that hurt their feelings because they failed their last math test and… not to brag but I did pretty great. So they probably hate my guts now. And they sort things out using their fists (like a bunch of barbarians) sooo….” Mumbo chuckled. “I guess I’m in danger?”

“Good thing you stood up to them,” Cub said.

Mumbo snorted. “Yeah, I don't regret that one bit. Hey False, don’t look so worried! I know how to keep myself safe.”

“Yeah…” False stared down at her hands, which were littered in scars from her previous battles. “You’re a smart guy, Mumbo,” she said half-sarcastically, half-sincerely. “But can’t help but feel a little… concerned since those 2-A kids are no joke.”

“I knowww!” Mumbo groaned. “But I can’t do anything about it… I mean, I definitely won’t apologise for hurting their fragile egos.”

“Mumbo, you can always make a taser and use it for self-defence,” Cub suggested idly.

“Woah woah. Let’s not give him any ideas—“

“Mate, I’ll be expelled by Stan Twitt!” Mumbo exclaimed. “Imagine the headlines: a student of MCYT electrifies poor innocent souls for fun! #MumboJumboIsOverParty will trend everywhere!”

“The only ‘poor innocent souls’ here are the 3-H people, to be frank,” False muttered. 

Mumbo deflated, and False instantly regretted bringing up 3-H. “To be honest, I don’t think I can make it to 3-G,” Mumbo muttered. “I’ll definitely be dropped to 3-H. Har har. Guess I’ll die.”

Cub shifted uncomfortably. “Uhh… speaking of 3-H, I know several people have already gotten notices that they would be in 3-H next year.”

Ah. That wasn’t news to False. “Ren?”

“Yeah, him and Scar,” Cub sighed. False’s heart was crushed. Scar was possibly the most cheerful and purest soul she knew— would being in 3-H break him? But at least now she knew Scar and Ren had each other. 

“You know… I would tell Ren to take care of Scar but I don’t think there’s the need…” Cub awkwardly laughed. False’s blood froze. No. This isn’t happening again.

“I think I’ll probably be in 3-H as well,” Cub confessed.

“B-but, you’re good at shooting stuff! Didn’t you ace that last test—“

Cub laughed. “Yeah, I did, but does that mean anything? When I can barely swing a sword or run fast enough?”

“Like… I’ve been comparing my scores to some of my classmates. You know Pearl? I’m worse than her, and she just got told that she has a high risk of falling to 3-H. If Pearl can’t escape from 3-H, how can I?”

False was silent. In two days, she’d seen most of her friends worrying about getting in 3-H. Scratch that, all of her friends except Iskall were certain they were going to be in 3-H. All of her talented, kind friends were suddenly doubting their worth and thinking the world was ending. Because of some stupid policy Stan Twitt had implemented.

… That being said, did False really have the right to say that? Unlike all of them, she faced no danger of being dropped down to 3-H. They would probably think she was pitying them, and that was the last thing False wanted. 

Boisterous whoops and cheers interrupted False’s train of thought, and the three of them spun to see Dream and his friends jumping up and down in excitement. Apparently he had just beat Technoblade. All of the PvPers had gigantic smiles on their face, even Techno, who had lost. False watched as Dream extended a hand to Techno and helped him up. 

… It was funny, wasn’t it? The skilled PvPers would be praised and adored by all no matter what they did. But the designers, the crafters, False’s friends, were struggling to even be accepted in this society. Despite their wide variety of talents and how much hard work they put in. It was supremely unfair.

They were at the bottom of the unnecessary social hierarchy Stan Twitt created. And False couldn’t wait for the day when they would overthrow it. 

During lunch break, False took a stroll around the campus. Maybe she could find a quiet place to sit down and work on her building designs. But that idea was disrupted when she heard a scream. A familiar scream.

Mumbo.

False’s stomach churned and she dashed towards the origin of the scream. She remembered what Mumbo had said about angering some 2-A kids— oh no oh no what if they were getting revenge—

False found three beefy kids standing in the small alleyway between two buildings. On the floor was a shaking Mumbo, his face bruised and bleeding. Anger roared in False’s veins. 

“Stop this right now!” False demanded, hands balling up in fists. The three bullies turned to look at her.

“Aww, how cute, someone’s coming to save you,” one of them cooed in a nauseating voice. “Make one move and I’ll smash his precious baby camera to pieces!”

It felt like someone poured a bucket of ice over False’s heart. She spied the camera in their hands, and automatically froze. They knew how to hurt Mumbo the most, and how to make her stop—

“Give it back,” Mumbo choked out savagely, blood dripping from his lip. He stumbled to his feet. Despite being hurt, and having his camera taken from him, Mumbo was still fighting with all he got. “Give it back, you monsters!”

“Shut up, neeerd!”

An arm swung towards Mumbo, and False acted on instinct. She pounced and intercepted the fist. It hurt a little, but pain didn’t matter at the moment. 

“Give us the camera or perish,” False stated coolly, her icy tone a sharp contrast to the fire raging in her. 

“Oh yeah?” The bully smirked. He raised the camera. “Whatcha gonna do if I—“

False’s eyes bulged. She knew exactly what was going to happen. 

The camera soared through the air and False leapt without hesitation, arms outstretched. She painfully thudded on the ground, and she was pretty sure she’d scratched and bruised herself, but the camera was safely in her hands. She sighed in relief. That was the only thing that mattered. 

Someone was screaming. Was it Mumbo? Or was it her? She spun to see Mumbo on the floor again, hands in front of his face in a weak attempt to defend himself—

And suddenly it wasn’t just Mumbo. She saw her friends, with despaired faces, helpless against the harsh rules of this school—

Pain throbbed from her wounds, but the true pain originated from somewhere else.

So False snapped.

… 

“False! False!”

Punch. Stab. A sickening crunch.

“Iskall! I-“

Hot liquid dripped down her face. Something slammed into her skull and her head spun, but she continued. Physical pain wouldn’t stop her.

They hurt Mumbo. They hurt my friends.

This wasn’t retaliation. Oh no, oh no, oh no. 

This was to protect other people. She gritted her teeth.

Don’t.

A swing of her fist.

Hurt.

Kick.

My.

Her heel crushed on someone’s foot. They howled. She felt a hot flare of satisfaction. 

FRIENDS!

“False! FALSE!”

Someone tugged on her shirt. False nearly whacked them in the head, but stopped when she recognised the person. 

“Mumbo!” False exclaimed, her expression changing in a split second. All bloodlust vanished from her eyes as she grabbed Mumbo’s shoulders. “Oh my goodness, did they hurt you after that? Is your camera okay—“

Then she saw Mumbo’s expression. It was one of fear.

“Y-you’re bleeding, Falsie.” 

“I don’t care,” False told him honestly. 

“Umm, guys, bad news,” came Iskall’s voice. Wait, when did Iskall appear? False couldn’t recall. Her brain was fuzzy and her vision was still tinged with red.

A shadow loomed over all of them, and False swallowed.

Their principal, Stan Twitt, looked like an angry strawberry, except False actually liked strawberries. “Hurting my UwU cishet white boy babies?” they screeched. “YOU’RE ABOUT TO GET CANCELLED!” 

“Oh no.”

“Yeah, oh no.”

False, Mumbo, and Iskall walked out of Stan Twitt’s office (which wasn’t much of an office anyway. It was just a room plastered with posters of popular PvPers and other weird pictures.) All of them were seething, in particular False and Iskall. 

“Sorry I got you guys involved,” Mumbo muttered. “I- you guys don’t deserve this.”

“Oh shut up, Mumbo,” Iskall growled. “We crafters stick together.”

Apparently Iskall had appeared while False was fighting the three bullies. (She had practically single-handedly defeated three 2-A PvPers, which would probably move her up from 2-B to 3-A if she did it with other circumstances.)

“Those 2-A kids are at fault,” False insisted. She shook her head, still in disbelief at Stan Twitt’s judgement. “They attacked first. We attacked back for self defence.”

“Yeah, but who are they gonna listen to?” Mumbo sighed. “The UwU popular kids or the loners that are gonna drop down to 3-H?”

“Screw Stan Twitt’s system. I want to blow this place up.”

“Yeah, that’s what Grian said.”

A pause. “Huh. I think I’m liking this Grian guy now.”

False fiddled with the bandages on her arm. The fire inside her hadn’t died down one bit, but as of now, she was powerless. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to strike back. “So. Who’s going to tell our friends we’re all in 3-H now?”

Chapter Text

It was the first day of the new school year. Months had passed since the Camera Incident (as they called it), but the impacts were long lasting. False touched her cheek and felt the scar there— she had gotten it from the fight. “Now my face’s not symmetrical,” she had joked. “I’m False Symmetry.”

“Very funny, False,” Iskall had deadpanned. Stress and Ren were laughing hysterically. False loved the duality of her friends.

Just as always, False and Ren met up at their usual spot and set off for school. Iskall, Stress, and Mumbo joined them like they always did. But today, they couldn’t pretend everything was normal. In fact, they would have to get used to the new normal that they were 3-H students now. 

Many of False’s old friends from 2-B had stopped contacting her after the Camera Incident. Granted, she didn’t have a lot of friends outside the crafters’ circle, but oh well. Most of the main campus students were reluctant to even interact with the hermits in fear they would get bullied as well. As Cub had put it, it was “kill or be killed”. If you were seen with a weakling, you would be deemed weak as well. And in such a highly competitive environment, being a “weakling” was totally unideal.

To be frank, False would’ve despised being in 3-H if it wasn’t for her friends. She was a good student, never broke any school rules, and was decent at PvP. If only False was a little more sociable, a little better at fighting, she could be part of the popular kids’ circle. Her only “fault” was standing up for a bullied friend. False and Iskall still thought it was unfair for Stan Twitt to punish them by sending them to 3-H, but arguing with Stan Twitt was impossible. It wasn’t because they were the principal, it was because they were so ignorant and stubborn that they refused to listen to anyone who didn’t share their opinions. 

Scar and Cub soon joined them. Scar in particular seemed the least saddened by being in 3-H. In fact, he looked pretty excited. He explained it was because he could be closer to nature and gain more inspiration for his building designs. Considering the 3-H classroom was on top of a hill, False supposed Scar was right.

But even Scar’s smile slid off when the crafters arrived at the main campus, with its imposing cobblestone towers and awful colour palettes. (Okay, maybe Scar was just horrified by how terrible their school looked, and he wasn’t feeling sad about being in 3-H.) They all agreed the main campus was the ugliest thing on earth, but it was somehow a symbol of raw power and prestige. And now they would get none of that. Several main campus students were loitering at the crudely-fashioned iron gates, sneering at the crafters.

“Awww look, it’s the hermits. Thank goodness we’re not them!”

“Yeah, their lives must suck. Can’t imagine walking up the hill just to study in some worn down hut.”

“They kinda deserve it though… like dude, what do you mean they can’t speed run? That’s a basic ability.”

Offended, Iskall looked like he was about to retaliate, but Stress placed a hand on his arm. “They’re not worth it, luv. Don’t waste your energy on those geezers.”

“To be honest, what’s speed running? I only know Naruto running. And that’s because I stan Etho.”

“Oh look, it’s Grian!” Mumbo pointed out. They all followed his gaze to see the short blond talking with some main campus students. False was a little surprised that Grian, another hermit, was still on speaking terms with the main campus students, but she’d heard Grian was charismatic. Or maybe he just had good friends. False recognised one of Grian’s friends as Pearl, whom she had never talked to but quite liked.

“Grian, ask us if you need anything, okay?”

“This 3-H thing won’t change anything. We’ll always have each other’s backs.”

“Yeah… and to be fair, we’re just in 3-G. We’re not that far away from being dropped down to 3-H. So, 3-GH solidarity!”

“Thanks, guys!” Grian spied Mumbo, and waved at him. “Ahh, I think I’ve got to go now. See you later, Jimmy, Martyn, Pearl!”

“See ya, Grian!”

False was amazed by how Grian could still maintain his ties. Then again, he was talking to 3-G students. 3-G were the second lowest in the social hierarchy, just slightly higher than 3-H. Maybe Grian’s friend was right. Maybe 3-GH solidarity did exist. 

From what she’d heard from Mumbo, Grian was sent to 3-H due to a combination of his below average PvP skills and being too good at designing buildings. Apparently Stan Twitt thought Grian’s amazing designs (seriously, she heard he was part of a business called Wynncraft) were a threat to the popularity of the PvPers and hence threw him to 3-H. Which was possibly the smartest thing Stan Twitt had ever done. Forcing creative people to study with creative people? Man, what a way to stop Grian’s ever-growing influence!

“Hey guys,” Grian greeted. False wasn’t close with him; she just knew him through Mumbo, nonetheless she politely smiled at him. Other than Mumbo, Grian had also grown closer to Iskall and Scar. Iskall because of Mumbo as a mutual friend, and Scar because of their love for architecture, fantasy, and cats. 

They ignored the jeering from the main campus students and walked up the hill. A few of them, particularly those who weren’t morning people, were pretty exhausted, so False passed out bananas for them to replenish their energy. (“False, do you just casually bring bunches of bananas to school?” “Yeah, I do. Don’t ask why.” “Ooooh, I can think of something for sure-“ “Ren. Shut up.” “Yes ma’am.”)

The 3-H classroom was in a worse shape than False had thought. Half of the roof was gone, the wood was damp and rotting, not to mention there were mushrooms and mycelium growing everywhere. False wasn’t even sure if the classroom had decent lighting.

“Well, this sure is a charming place,” Grian said, crossing his arms.

“Absolutely,” Scar chimed in. “With the second ugliest roof design I’ve ever seen and mycelium encroaching on the grass.”

“No, Scar, I mean it when I said it was charming. Look at how cute the mushrooms are! I’m going to name this one Sally!”

Everybody stared at Grian, not sure if he was trolling or not. Grian skipped along the path, acting like he was innocently oblivious. Mumbo gave False a look that said “this is just normal Grian.”

They entered to find one of False and Mumbo’s old friends, Xisuma, wiping the windows. “Morning X!” False said.

“Mornin’ guys.”

Xisuma was the class representative during his first year. False and Mumbo, who were in the same class as Xisuma, enjoyed his leadership and his eagerness to help his peers. Xisuma was enthusiastic about animals and researched ways to create high-tech armour inspired by certain animals such as the turtle and the bee. Xisuma was also a mysterious character who seemed to have a lot of connections, both inside and outside school.

Soon, more students entered the room, including Etho, who used to be one of the school’s most popular students (that was obviously before PvP started to become relevant.) A guy with a prosthetic arm walked in and Ren instantly died. “I think that’s Docm77! He looks so hot, Falsie! I can’t believe we’re in the same class!”

It took False all of her willpower to resist rolling her eyes at Ren. He was such a huge Doc fanboy.

False scanned the classroom, and to her surprise, many of her classmates used to be popular crafters in this school. Of course there was Etho, a famous pioneer. False didn’t know anyone who wasn’t an Etho fanboy/girl/anything in between. But there were also Doc, Bdubs, Beef, who were members of the Mindcrack gang. Mindcrack was immensely popular in the first months of their first year, but then it sort of dissolved. They still had their loyal fans, and False had to admit she was a little starstruck. 

False thought about how Grian was sent to 3-H because he was too good. Was this that the case for these influential people? Were they taking attention away from the PvPers? Was this another of Stan Twitt’s devious plans?

Soon, all of the hermits had arrived. False vaguely knew them as the art and science kids. Chatter and excitement from meeting their friends died down and they stared at their desks. It was impossible to forget that everybody hated them now. Isolated from everyone else, they knew they would be seen as laughing stocks. Even the most joyous souls had a hard time remaining optimistic. Nobody knew who their homeroom was, but Xisuma told them he heard it was going to be a new teacher. 

“That’s… good, isn’t it?” A student named Impulse had asked. “Since they won’t be like, biased.”

“You never know with Stan Twitt’s influence,” his friend Tango replied darkly. 

“You know, there’s a rumour that Stan Twitt invited one of their cousins to teach here this year,” Cub remarked. “It’s someone called Cherry Twitt, if I recall correctly.”

Five minutes before the bell rang, a blond man strode into the classroom. “Good morning everyone!” He greeted the class warmly. “I’m your homeroom Scott Major, but you can just call me Scott. Nice to meet you guys!”

The hermits started to mutter among themselves. This Scott guy seemed to be too happy to be the teacher of the worst class in the school. They didn’t trust him yet, but they would be polite to Scott since he was nice to them. So when Scott asked for people who wanted to be the class representatives, hands shot up practically instantly. They could’ve easily ignored Scott and went on with their lives (new teachers didn’t have any influence at all), but Scott respected them, which was rare in their school. 

“C’mon False, you should run.” False spun to look at Cub. False grinned awkwardly.

“I would, but I feel like… I’m not going to be the best representative. Cause my reason for getting here is different from everyone else’s.” Cub nodded, understanding.

A quick vote later, which was totally not hijacked by Mumbo and Grian suggesting they build an AI to choose for them, Scar and Bdubs became the class representatives. Scar smiled nervously, pink dotting his cheeks, while Bdubs looked like he was born to do this.

“Thank you for placing your trust in me! I’ll do my best for all the hermits here.”

“By the way, are we really calling ourselves hermits?” Grian called out. “Socially awkward loners that everyone ignores? Sorry for interrupting, by the way.”

Xisuma looked up. “The “hermit” label isn’t supposed to be derogatory. You’re Grian, right? The famous future architect.”

“I- yeah,” Grian spluttered out, a little surprised. “And you’re uh, Ex-eye-zooma-void?”

Everybody chuckled, but Xisuma made no move to correct Grian. “You may call me that, Gr-ee-yan. But my focus is that Stan Twitt didn’t come up with the “hermit” label. The school didn’t come up with it.”

“Then… why are we called the “H as in Hermit” class?” Cub asked. 

“One 3-H student came up with it long ago. He wanted something to identify himself as, and he chose a hermit. The name stuck and the rest of the class adopted it too,” Xisuma explained. “Hermit... it’s supposed to mean that we’re separated from the main campus, on both tangible and intangible levels. But a class of hermits? A class of people who are abandoned by everyone else? They stick together. They grow stronger together. 3-H isn’t just hermits, it’s a community of hermits. And I know this because I actually know the hermit who started all of this.”

“Well… that doesn’t sound that bad.”

“... Maybe I’ll be proud of being called a hermit.”

“A community of hermits. I like that,” Scott said. “I know… that this school isn’t kind to you. Scratch that, the system is unfair, unjust, and punishes the so-called-weak.”

The hermits gasped, surprised by how vocal Scott was.

“Just don’t tell that to the main campus people,” Scott added hurriedly, and flashed the hermits a sheepish smile. “I don’t want to be fired, after all.”

“Sure thing.”

“Yeah, you’re a cool teacher.”

Scar stroked his chin and he looked like he was in deep thought. “So, guys, I’m thinking… we’re hermits here, but not exactly by choice. But there is one thing I think we all have in common, and it’s something we all choose to do.”

“We create,” somebody called from the back.

“Exactly! Thank you.” Scar stood up. His green eyes scanned the room and he made eye contact with each student. “We’re hermits. But we’re also crafters. Whether it’s architecture, or machines, or paintings, or music, we craft. We’re… Hermitcrafters.”

“Hermitcrafters!” Bdubs exclaimed. “I like that! Hermits for short. Do we all agree?”

They all nodded. “So we’re taking this label that has been imposed on us, which was originally started by a 3-H student, and making it our own? Sign me the heck up!” Ren cheered. Several other hermits also whooped and clapped. Their morale was definitely boosted compared to when class hadn’t started yet.

“We’re Hermitcrafters,” Scar declared. “H as in Hermit? Nah, we’re H as in Hermitcraft now. By the way, Mr. Major,” Scar spun to their teacher, “may I bring my pet cat Jellie to school? She’s… very important to me. She helped me through the hardest time of my life, and she’s a great source of comfort—“

Scott laughed. “Sure, Scar! I’ll love to meet Jellie.”

“Thank you! You’re the best teacher ever!”

“Come on Scar, you don’t need to talk about your whole life story just to ask if you can bring your cat to class!” Iskall burst out, chuckling. 

“H-hey!” Scar was blushing again. “I thought maybe an explanation was needed—“

False watched as her friends bantered like they always did. Despite being in 3-H (the H stood for Hermitcraft, by the way), they were all oddly enough, having a good time. Their teacher Scott appeared to be friendly enough. And none of her peers seemed to be as egotistic and as violent as the PvPers she knew from the main campus. False had a feeling they would all be happy here, despite how the rest of the world treated them. 

Chapter Text

And it's a long way forward, so trust in me

I'll give them shelter, like you've done for me.

It was time for the first whole school assembly. Scott led the class down their classroom on the hill. Once again, False looked around to see if her classmates were doing alright. Ren had hitched a hike and Doc was carrying him on his shoulders. These two seemed to be enthusiastically discussing something. False didn’t want to disturb them. 

The gigantic main campus came into view, and all of the hermits and Scott shivered. Partly because the buildings inspired fear, but mostly because the campus was so ugly that every cell of theirs were recoiling. 

“How come our tiny, broken classroom looks way better than this?” Mumbo exclaimed incredulously. He pointed at a wall. “Why cobble here? Smooth stone looks way better.”

“This is what they get for chasing all the creative people away from the main campus,” Iskall idly commented. 

“I think our classroom has a lot of potential because it’s broken,” Scott said. “You guys can change it and modify it however you want. You can’t do anything about these disgusting cobblestone towers here.”

Grian started shaking Mumbo’s shoulders in excitement. “Wooo! I can’t believe we’ll be working on an actual building!”

Because they were class 3-H, they had to line up in the hall first and wait for everyone to come in. One of the Green Gods, Pete, took 3-H‘s attendance. (False noticed Pete didn’t laugh or jeer at them like most of the other main campus kids. She noticed his hands were slightly trembling. Was Pete afraid of something? Or someone?)

The hermits stood there for ten minutes as their schoolmates gradually walked in. It was their tradition to laugh at the 3-H students. False couldn’t hear what they were saying though, because she and Ren were eagerly talking about their building designs.

“I’m going for a cyberpunk theme for this one!” False excitedly flipped through her notebook pages to show Ren her blue, grey, and white “evil tower”. 

“Nice! My colour scheme’s almost the opposite of yours,” Ren chuckled. He showed False his Darth Vader tower inspired design, which primarily featured black and red. Just then, someone started yelling at the hermits.

“Aww look at the poor hermits! Having to stand there—“

False raised her voice. “Ren! Why do our towers look so evil!” 

“Must suck to live up there on the hill-“

“Maybe we are evil!” Ren exclaimed, also increasing his volume slightly. “Just kidding. You’re the farthest thing from evil, Falsie.”

“Oy! Look at me when I’m talking to you—“

An idea struck False. “You know how we can make this better?”

“UHH? Hermits? Hello? You’re supposed to look sad—“

“Yeah, Falsie?” Ren boomed, staunchly ignoring the main campus kid who was trying to get their attention.

False and Ren stared at each other. “We can blow up a hole under the tower,” they said in unison. Their eyes lit up. “Jinx! Jinx again!”

As the two high-fived and cheered, the main campus kid growled, “Making fun of you guys isn’t worth my time. Why are you so hard to annoy?!”

“I can make, like a little city in the hole!” False took out a pen and started scribbling.

“And I think I can fit in a storage system in my whole! Aesthetic and functional!” Similarity, Ren started to jot down some notes.

Somebody tapped False’s shoulder. “Hey False, the assembly’s starting. Featuring your favourite Green God, Fruitberries, as the student council president.”

False’s heart leapt. “Wait, Fruit bet Dream—?” She glanced at the stage. “Oh Cub, you jester. That’s Dream. Stop making fun of me!”

“DID SOMEONE SAY FRUITBERRIES?!”

They all turned to see Grian, eyes shining with excitement. “I love Fruitberries! He’s the coolest! I consider him one of the boiz!”

Iskall snickered. “Grian, you’ll get along with Falsie, our local Fruitberries stan.”

“What? I don’t stan anyone—“

Grian grabbed False’s hands and started to jump up and down. “Yess!! Finally someone appreciates Fruity B!” He screeched.

Fruity B? False thought. That’s Grian’s nickname for him?

“I’m so tired of people mistaking Fruity B as Dream!” Grian continued with a passion. “Like, Fruity B is soooo good. He’s his own person! He’s not someone who looks like Dream.”

“For your information, I keep on mistaking Dream as Fruit instead of the other way round.”

“Dream doesn’t exist in Falsie’s brain,” Cub called out. 

“I wish I had your brain, False,” someone said.

“Thanks.”

“Oh my goodness! There’s Fruit over there!” Grian squealed. 

Fruit had the best green colour for his hair, and also had the cutest and most charming smile. He was chatting with some main campus students, but upon hearing his name, he turned towards the hermits. False’s heart skipped a beat, and she expected Fruit to laugh at them and crush Grian’s dreams-

But Fruit just waved at them. And Grian dissolved.

“He noticed me!” Grian exclaimed, his hands over his heart. “Oh my poor little heart! I can’t cope! Fruity B!! He saw me!”

“Grian, chill, chill.” Mumbo said. “Where’s your gong?”

To everybody’s amazement, Grian produced a small gong from his pocket and struck it once. The clang rebrevated throughout the area and False found herself somehow calming down. 

“Breathe in, and breathe out.” Grian’s voice floated towards her ears. “Phew! I’m alright now. I’m still really excited though.”

The school year had barely begun, but it was already so chaotic that False was contemplating buying a gong for herself. 

“UWU!” a voice suddenly yelled, instantly rendering the gong’s calming effects useless. Scott groaned. “Ohhh, it’s good old Stanley Twitt.”

“Welcome back to MCYT!” Stan Twitt exclaimed with a beam. “I missed you all sooo much! Especially the white boy, white boy, and white boy! UwU!”

“Someone kill me,” Tango muttered.

“Only if you kill me too,” Impulse replied. 

“What’s ooh-wooh?” Scar asked curiously. Cub explained it to him. Scar blinked. “Oh, I thought it was pronounced like wuwu.”

“Now a welcome message from our new student council president, everyone’s favourite Green God!” Stan Twitt continued.

“Fruitberries,” half of the hermits and Grian answered automatically. False sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“The manhunt master, the mysterious smiley face guy, the super hot, super cute, UwU best white boi… DREAM himself!” Stan Twitt screeched. “YEAHH! DREAM SMP? More like, DREAM SIMP.”

All the students cheered, except for the hermits, who just clapped politely. They were probably disappointed it wasn’t Fruit, who had somehow become a patron saint of the hermits just because he waved at them. 

Dream introduced the rest of the student council, which were predominantly white and male. False couldn’t really blame him though. Their school had so many white males, and class 3-H was no exception. (In 3-H, there were 3 females to like 20 males? Man.) False noticed in addition to the Dream Team, Technoblade was there. The two were friendly rivals, and maybe Dream invited Techno to unite their ginormous fanbases?

False was not paying attention to Dream’s speech until she heard the word “hermit”. Her ears instantly perked up. Next to her, her friends jolted up, similarly awakened. Apparently all of the hermits shared a brain.

“As we all know, third years, hermits included, will be allowed to participate in our school’s prestigious monthly Championships. This year, following complaints about how “ugly” the arena is, Professor Noxite has renovated everything. Don’t worry, Survival Games still exist,” Dream said to soothe the already raging masses. “There are some new games, such as Sands of Time, Sky Battle, aaaand… something something supermarket. It’s not that important. Probably.”

“You’re going to change your mind at the 13th Championship while being on a cursed pink team to avoid the underdogs snatching a win again!” came a boisterous voice.

“Thank you for your… very specific prediction, HBomb.”

“It’s called Big Sales at Build Mart!” Scott called from the audience. The hermits were once again surprised by how vocal their new teacher was.

“Yes, yes, thank you Mr. Major. He’s one of our new teachers, by the way. He’s working with Professor Noxite to organize the Championships.”

“The Championships are arguably the most important part of your third year life, other than simping,” Dream continued. “Yes, I’m looking at you, George.” The fangirls screeched and died because of this one (1) comment. False would probably laugh at them if she hadn’t witnessed Ren losing all of his braincells because of Doc. 

“Students will form teams of two to four to participate. You are allowed to team up with students from other classes. 10 teams will be chosen by Mr. Major, and there will be 8 minigames. The top two scoring teams will face each other in a final round of Dodgebolt! How exciting! The first team to win three rounds of Dodgebolt wins the Championship! And to be more… accommodating to the hermits this year,” Dream glanced at 3-H, “if any hermit gets into the top two teams, they will be allowed to rejoin the main campus and be one of us again! In previous years, only hermits from the winning team were allowed to leave 3-H. You guys gotta work hard though, since none of the hermits have ever left the bottom half.”

The main campus students started to snigger. The hermits looked a little sad, not because people were laughing at them, but because they were still salty that Fruit wasn’t the student council president. False had no idea they took this Fruit thing so seriously.

But for the first (and possibly the only) time, Dream’s words awakened something inside her. The hermits had a chance to join the main campus, no matter how small it was. So what if the hermits from previous years performed badly? Nobody was born perfect (unlike what Stan Twitt thought). False could gain back everything she had lost (except her sanity, which her friends stole from her). Everyone would respect her and the hermits again. 

Minecraft Championship, here I come, False promised to herself.

Most of False’s classmates weren’t that enthusiastic about the Championship. Scott promised them they could renovate their classroom, which was infinitely more intriguing than Naruto running or whatever those PvPers called it. 

Scott clapped his hands together. “I know we’re all excited, but we’ve got to do some housekeeping first. I checked your grades and geez, you kids are smart. You probably know more than I do. Like, Etho invented a hopper clock? And Grian founded Wynncraft? You’re all skilled and experienced crafters. All of you folks don’t need school!”

“But I still need to give out grades and boring stuff, soo… how about three hours of normal school in the morning, and then we work on the classroom for the rest of the day?” Scott suggested. “You’ll actually be building it though, which can train your strength and handgrip and whatever, so the sports-loving school can’t sue me.”

“That sounds sweet!”

“Mr. Major, how are you even cooler than you already are?”

Scott let the hermits do their thing. He reclined in a chair, put on some shades, and made sure they didn’t blow anything up (which they were surprisingly prone to doing so). Meanwhile, Scar and Grian started to argue on the building design.

“Grass is the best!” Next to Scar, Cub and Bdubs nodded furiously.

“Excuse me? Mycelium’s been here from the beginning. Mycelium Resistance!” Grian retorted.

“More like, resist the Mycelium,” Bdubs snarled. 

“Grian, one more word and I’ll be declaring war!” Scar pointed a shaky finger at Grian.

“Scar, you don’t want to start a war against me,” Grian said in a dangerously soft voice, then he smirked. “I will steal your children.”

“NOO!” Scar jumped back and hugged Jellie tightly. “Don’t touch my baby Jellie!”

“Nah, not Jellie. I love Jellie. As for Baby Yoda though…” Grian stroked his chin mock-thoughtfully. “Hmm… interesting…”

“Not my baby boi!” Scar whined. He furiously gestured at the mushrooms on the floor. “If you take Baby Yoda, I’ll step on your mushroom Sally!”

A few paces away from the Grass VS Mycelium debate, Mumbo and Iskall were sitting on pool floaties and discussing something called “Pacific”. Ren was whining how there wasn’t a pink floatie for him to sit on. Zedaph was working on some weird contraption. False exchanged looks with the two other girls in 3-H, which were Stress and Cleo. It was amazing how much one could convey in facial expressions alone. 

If nobody was going to stop a civil war, they were going to do it themselves.

“Alright, boys, wot’s happening? Stop your fighting!” Stress declared. “Let’s solve this in a civil manner.”

“But I want a Turf War!” Grian whined. “Come on, can’t a guy start a war! It’ll be fun!”

“There’s only one war worth fighting, and it’s against Stan Twitt,” False told him sternly. 

“Grass or Mycelium? Why not…” Cleo waggled her eyebrows, “both?”

There was silence as Cleo’s legendary compromise sunk in. 

“Thank you for spreading the bisexual agenda,” came Joehill’s voice. 

“Why not.. both,” Scar repeated. “Huh. Well, I guess we can negotiate-”

“Scar, I’mma be honest. I never liked mycelium,” Grian admitted. “It’s super ugly. This resistance? It’s all about the principle (or maybe the principal, because Stan Twitt is uglier than mycelium). I just wanna mess with you, Scar. And bother you into helping me finish designing the back of the mansion.”

“EXCUSE ME?”

Ren, who had just pestered Iskall into letting him sit on one of Pacific’s pink floaties, dashed towards Grian. “What do you mean it’s all about the principle? How about my Pamela?”

“Pamela?” False echoed, sounding confused.

“My… mushroom!” Ren pointed at a smaller, red-and-white polka dotted mushroom right next to Grian’s mushroom Sally. “Don’t take my baby Pamela away!”

(“Mycelium causes brain rot,” Cub whispered to False, who nodded in agreement.)

“Ren, that mushroom looks poisonous.” Jevin entered the conversation. “Let’s remove it.”

Ren gasped, extremely offended. “Slime Jevin! How dare you! Fight me with nothing but our fists, with our chests bare-’”

“Fine! Fine! We’ll keep Sally and Pamela!” Scar raised his hands and yelled. “Only because no one wants to see a shirtless Ren.”

“Tell that to Doc,” Cleo muttered under her breath. 

So that was how the hermits decided on their design. All the mycelium would be removed by the “totally not evil laser” that Scar created, save for Ren and Grian’s two mushrooms. Scott, after teaching the class how to maintain the ecosystem, allowed them to chop some of the trees on the hill. They used the wood to build an elegant rustic house that Scar, Grian, and Bdubs jointly designed. Then they thought it was getting boring so Keralis grabbed airplane models and stuck them around the building (“because it looks cool!”), next day Beef brought llamas to school, Iskall built a dabbing penguin, and False contributed by bringing colourful jellyfish balloons (“since we’re going with an animal theme?”). Xisuma and Keralis nearly brought bees to school but were stopped by practically everyone. Now that they had unlimited freedom, and weren’t forced to participate in training, the hermits went crazy. And the best part was that they were actually strengthening their physical skills by moving building materials and jumping from place to place. 

Ren discovered a fondness for chopping down trees. “I’m gonna get into shape, baby! Ohhh ladies, get in line!”

They didn't just make the place pretty, they also made it functional. The prospective engineers created an air conditioning system of their own within the first two weeks, and had negotiated with the architects so the newly designed classroom could be properly ventilated. Doc had even invited his genius friends from the neighbouring school (they called themselves Scicrafters) to help them. A month later, half of their electricity was generated by renewable energy, and Mumbo and Grian were working on an AI. Scott was amazed by the hermits and he barely did anything except funding them.

“I’ve always known you’re capable, but this?” Scott gestured at the densely vegetated lawn, lovingly decorated classroom and the wind turbines on the roof. “This is beyond my expectations. You’ve outdone yourselves. Great job, Hermitcrafters!”

“It’s all thanks to you,” Scar giggled. “You let us go feral. And you gave us the opportunity to express ourselves, which the main campus, with its disgusting cobblestone walls, never did.”

But outside of the 3-H bubble, something much bigger was happening. The 1st Championship was about to take place. HBomb, a member of 3-A, stared at the team lists. A single hermit had signed up.

And it wasn’t who you thought it was. 

Chapter Text

“Jevin? You’re participating in the 1st Championship?”

“Shhh Falsie! Not so loud!”

Jevin and False stood a little way from their 3-H classroom, two wooden swords in Jevin’s hands. They were at a clearing, trees surrounding them from all sides.

It wasn’t like False had forgotten about the Championship and her ticket to return to the main campus, it was just too much fun building their classroom. And she never expected Jevin to be the first hermit in the Championship. 

“I’ll be joining with some of my friends in 3-G and 3-F,” Jevin explained. “I don’t expect to win, I’m just doing it… for the experience.”

“For the experience,” False repeated.

“Yeah! Sooo… please keep it a secret from the other hermits. I don’t want them to cheer for me when I’m not going to put in that much effort anyway. We know if our classmates know I’m in the Championship, they’ll feverishly support me even if I tell them not to.”

“But—“ It didn’t feel right for a single hermit to go to the Championship alone. False knew she definitely wasn’t doing that. 

Jevin’s blue eyes looked at her seriously. “False, I trust you.”

“Alright.” False couldn’t say no to that. She shifted on her feet. “So, uhh, why did you tell me in particular?”

Jevin suddenly looked shy. “Uh, would you mind training me? Just a few rounds of sparring. So I don’t go in completely unprepared.” Jevin tossed her a sword, which she caught.

“Sure thing. By the way… I’ll confess that I want to watch the Championship. So I can study the Championship and, y’know,” False shrugged, “figure out some strategies. But you said you don’t want the hermits to watch.”

Jevin laughed. “Ohh, it’s okay if it’s just you. I just don’t want, let’s say, a huge glowing sign, balloons, accompanied by twenty gongs clanging at the same time. You know how extra the hermits are.”

So False dueled Jevin and gave him pointers on where to attack and tips to defend himself. Their little duel session was quickly discovered by others, in particular Scar and Bdubs who were taking a stroll. Thankfully, they thought it was just a friendly fight and had nothing to do with training whatsoever. 

“This needs some hype music!” Bdubs announced. “Scar, don’t you have a radio?”

“On it!” Before Jevin and False could stop him, Scar was already fiddling with his radio and rapidly switching through the music channels. “This one’s too grim… and this one’s too upbeat! Man! Is there no good music to listen to while fighting your friends?”

Country rock suddenly blasted through the radio, and Jevin yelped, “That’s it, Scar! This is perfect. We’re fighting to country rock. Don’t bother with anything else.”

“Wh-what?”

“You’re the best DJ in the world,” False told him, readying her sword. Guitars twanged in the background as someone moodily sung about their truck or something. She rushed towards Jevin, who parried her attack. 

“You know what, fighting with this music is strangely fun,” Jevin told False with a chuckle. 

“I know right!”

And for an hour, False could pretend she was having fun with Jevin. She could pretend Jevin wasn’t going to enter a Championship and get absolutely slaughtered by the PvPers. She could pretend that the hermits weren’t going to be laughed at by everyone. And everything was fine.

False noticed that teams were starting to practice for the Championship, so after school, she put on a banana hoodie (a birthday gift from her friends) and sneaked down to the main campus, notebook in hand. Many new games were added this year, including the universally detested Parkour Warrior (at least, everyone that False had spoken to hated it). Hence, she wanted to know more about these games from watching others practice.

To her surprise, much of the Dream Team/ Dream’s SIMPs/ Dream’s friends/ whatever they called themselves weren’t there. In fact, Pete was the only Green God playing. False heard it was because they were busy doing something else (Naruto running or these things called “manhunts”, probably). But she still saw the hermits’ patron saint Fruitberries sparring with somebody.

False watched as Fruit and the other guy fought. Fruit was clearly the better one (why wouldn’t he be? He was a Green God), but the other guy wasn’t bad as well. 

“That was a good one, H!” Fruit cheered when the other guy hit his shoulder.

H? False glanced at the list of participating students. That has to be HBomb. False had heard of him, but she didn’t know him very well.

Other students were sparring, but False couldn’t help but focus on H and Fruit. Fruit wasn’t all attacking; he made sure to teach H some moves. False could only dream of replicating them. H and Fruit two weren’t just classmates in 3-A, they were also good friends, as False could see from their friendly punches and nudges. She quickly scribbled notes down, hoping to at least learn a little. 

After a while, H left Fruit behind to chat with some main campus kids. False wondered if Fruit would spar with someone else, but he just sat on a bench, all alone. Fruit then took out his phone and presumably started texting someone. 

The area was filled with shouts and yells and sounds of swords clashing. Everybody had someone else, whether to chat with or to spar with. Everybody except two. One, a hermit whom nobody noticed, who isolated herself from her friends to learn more about the Championships. Two, one of the most skilled students, one of the Green Gods, on top of the food chain, Fruitberries himself. 

Somebody walked past Fruit, and False saw him stand up and call to that somebody, but he was ignored. False glimpsed the familiar crestfallen look on Fruit’s face before it quickly disappeared. Ah. So Fruit had experienced that as well. False felt a stab of empathy. She didn’t expect to feel that for someone who was supposedly massively popular.

Fruit sat down on his bench again, and picked up his water bottle. From his actions, False could infer that his water bottle was empty, but before Fruit could do anything about it, a redhead teacher appeared and asked Fruit to talk to them. False didn’t recognize the teacher— was it a new teacher? Perhaps the Cherry Twitt person Cub had been talking about? Anyway, Fruit left with the teacher, leaving nothing on the bench but a single lime green water bottle. 

Five minutes later, when Fruit returned, he found his water bottle was half full.

“Strange,” he muttered to himself. “I could’ve sworn it was empty. Well, thanks H, I guess. I mean, who else can it be?”

Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of banana yellow passed by.

Next day, and the day after that, False returned to observe the practice sessions. She wore her banana hoodie every time, because it made her feel safe and secure. (Read: it made her feel like her friends were with her.)

She didn’t ask any of the hermits to accompany her, since she was sure they would make a huge fuss out of it. Jevin and his friends were practicing outside of school and False didn’t want to disturb them. 

So False quietly sat in her corner. This time Fruitberries wasn’t there, but that HBomb guy was. In fact, he and his team were sitting pretty close to False. Not close enough for it to be awkward, but close enough for False to hear them (or maybe H was just loud.)

“Let’s go, guys!” H whooped. “We got this!”

He started to analyse each of his teammates’ strengths and weaknesses, making sure to reassure them when they doubted themselves. False listened to him ramble about strategies and what each teammate should do. He heartily slapped his teammates’ backs.

Funny. This main campus student, a student from 3-A nonetheless, was making False feel… comfortable. Or as comfortable a stranger could make her feel. At first, False couldn’t figure out why. But then she gazed at H’s brown hair and saw the excited glint in his blue eyes, and with a jolt, she realised it.

He reminded her of Ren.

The unwavering optimism. The trust in his teammates. The way he cracked jokes and made it sound so easy. This HBomb was a lot like Ren. 

Stop! What are you thinking about! False scolded herself. H was from the main campus and was probably only nice to the main campus kids. He wasn’t a hermit like Ren. False was sure H would sneer at them like everybody else did. His encouragement was reserved for people who were good at sports, not silly hermits trying to make it big. False couldn’t trust the main campus students. 

… Now False missed Ren. She took out her phone and checked her messages. Scar was spamming the class chat with pictures of Jellie, which no one minded. Grian was spamming the class chat with puns, which everyone minded. False quietly laughed, amused by her friends. She noticed Stress had sent her a text.

Stress: Hi False! Surprise sleepover tonite? <3

False: sure! :D usual peeps, amirite?

Stress: Yeah! Grian’s coming too

Stress: we’re all meeting up at my house rn

False: oh, so fast?

Stress: Haha yeah

Stress: all the boiz are talking about capitalism

False: oh lol

False: convex duo and architect and pacific…

Stress: yeah :( Im the only one not in a megacorporation

False: :(

False: sorry stress, i got something to do now

False: should be free in a few hours

False: ill go to your house at 6

Stress: np falsie! See you tonite! <33

False: See ya! <333

False tugged her banana hoodie closer to herself, and listened as H continued to practice with his teammates. As they chatted and laughed boisterously, False suddenly felt like she didn’t belong here at all.

“Oh my God! False is finally here!”

“Hi Stress. Hey guys.”

False stepped into Stress’ house, which was lovingly decorated with purple and magenta carpets, walls, and just about everything. Alliums grew in neat lines of flowerpots, and a sparkling chandelier hung from the ceiling. Out of their close circle of friends, only False and Stress had houses tidy enough for people to visit, but the former did not allow anyone to sleep over at her house. (Ren was an exception, only because he occasionally locked himself out of the house at nighttime.)

Everybody else had arrived. Scar and Ren were busy playing with a Lego set, while Cub and Grian were arguing about Star Wars. Stress was teaching Mumbo how to weave flower crowns, and Iskall was in the kitchen, wearing an apron that said “Kiss the Cook”. False noticed that both Ren and Iskall had pigtails with ribbons, which were likely Stress’ work.

“I bought you guys something!” False raised a hand to shake the packet of cookies she had purchased. They all cheered, delighted they had more food.

“Sorry that I didn’t have time to bake cookies,” False said. “Next time I’ll make a cookie of everyone here. I’ll draw your faces in icing.”

“Your cookies are really good, Falsie.”

“Wait, isn’t that cannibalism?”

“We don’t talk about that, Grian.”

False carefully tucked her banana hoodie inside her bag and sighed. It had been a long day at school, and while False had a fruitful time studying the PvPers, she sorely missed her friends.

“Hey False! Here’s the Concorp drone that you asked for.” False turned to see Cub giving her a cardboard box. “I trust you to take care of it.”

“Thanks Cub! Appreciate ya!”

“Not a problem.” Cub waved a hand dismissively. “I still dunno what you’re using it for.”

“Oooh, a drone!” Ren joined in the conversation. “I’ve used lots of those! Those aerial shots are ah-maize-ing, man!”

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe you two can teach me how to use it later?”

“Now that everyone’s here, let’s watch something that isn’t a compilation of Ren being mildly inappropriate!” Iskall declared.

“Ohh! I know!! We should show Grian the Logfellas Court Trial!” Stress suggested. “I have the DvD somewhere…”

The Logfellas Court Trial was a short film False and a few others had worked on in their first year. Stress was not directly involved, but she had rewatched it so many times she probably knew it better than they did. Grian only met them last year, so he probably had no clue what the court trial was.

“Grian, get a tasty beverage and some snacks and enjoy the show!” Ren exclaimed. 

Stress dimmed the lights and they all watched the court trial with content smiles. Grian laughed and pointed at the screen every time someone showed up in a suit.

“Isn’t that Mumbo’s suit?” he squealed, clutching his sides. “Why is everyone wearing Mumbo’s clothes?”

“This is why we don’t put Mumbo in charge of the costumes,” Scar remarked. “He has no fashion sense whatsoever.”

“Aha! So says the cowboy,” Mumbo retorted. 

False chuckled. Ahh, it sure felt good to relax. She felt somebody comb through her long golden hair— it was Stress.

“You okay, luv?” Stress asked in a motherly way. “You seem a little tired lately.”

False exhaled. “Just a little stressed,” she replied, laughing a little at her pun.

… To be honest, False hadn’t mentioned the Championship to any of her friends yet. That was why she went down to the main campus alone. Of course she wanted someone to go to the Championships with her, but she wasn’t ready. And she didn’t want to distract her friends from their projects. So she would wait.

Stress started to play with False’s hair. “You know, your hair’s really pretty. Have you ever thought about braiding it or tying it up? I think a ponytail will look good on you.”

“Nah. I like it when it’s around my shoulders. Less restraint, more freedom. And I like having freedom.”

“You do you, luv!”

“But I mean… I don’t mind it when you’re doing my hair,” False said. “Because you make me look pretty.” She giggled.

“Aww, that’s because you already are pretty!”

For one night, False was determined not to think about the main campus and Fruit and H. This sleepover was dedicated to having fun with her friends. And from how loud her friends were, False found it easy to forget her troubles.

False knew Jevin didn’t want the hermits to support him in the 1st Championship, but False couldn’t help but put on an aqua jacket (aqua was Jevin’s team colour and coincidentally the colour of his hair). Even if Jevin couldn’t see her at the Championship, False wanted to support him in her own way. She also learned it was surprisingly easy to sneak away from 3-H. Although they had all grown close to each other, it wasn’t weird to have one of them disappear for half a day. The hermits could be mega engrossed in their projects and not interact with anyone at all. False hadn’t realized this until Stress commented on how she hadn’t seen Iskall and Mumbo for several hours (they were busy working on “Pacific”).

The Championships happened in the afternoon on a school day, and all lessons after lunch would be cancelled. (It used to happen on Saturdays, but no one wanted to go to school on Saturday, even if it was for the Championship). Scott had to leave 3-H so he could manage the Championship. So False thought no one would notice if she disappeared for three hours after lunch. 

She was wrong.

“Hey, Falsie, where are you going?”

It was Ren, smiling innocently at her. False glanced at her aqua jacket and the drone in her hands, then back at Ren. He had caught her walking down the hill and to the main campus.

“Are you watching the Championship?” he asked. False did not have it in her to lie to him, and mumbled a “yes”.

“Ohhh! Is that why you’re bringing Cub’s drone? So you can record the Championship?”

“Yep.”

“Sweet! Can I join you?”

… False was finding it hard to say no to Ren. He was always so nice and endearing. And if False brought just one hermit with her, Jevin wouldn’t be too upset, right? 

So False somehow ended up going to the main campus with Ren by her side. She didn’t know why he had chosen to do that. He didn’t look like he was particularly interested in the Championship.

But then a thought struck False.

He wants to keep you company. 

False had always been a little quiet and shy. That was why she got along so well with Mumbo in their first year, as both were introverts and dedicated to their craft. They also had a mischievous side that they only showed to close friends, and they enjoyed messing with each other. However, Mumbo’s popularity caused him to distance himself from his friends, False included. False didn’t mind. Really. Mumbo just wanted to keep them safe and free from discourse. Sometimes False just ate lunch on her own, and sometimes she was the one left behind when her classmates paired up for group projects. It was totally fine. 

It was at that time Ren befriended her.

False had always known Ren as the “weird neighbour kid” and never spoke much to him. But then they were enrolled in the same school and started to go to school together. False could not recall the exact moment they became friends— it had to be somewhere between the first time she saved Ren from falling in a pond (yes, it happened multiple times) and that time when Ren accidentally stepped on a spider and they both cried (because they were devastated by the spider’s death, not because they were scared). 

And being friends with Ren meant she would be friends with Ren’s friends, which included Iskall. And Iskall was the guy who coaxed Mumbo back into interacting with his friends. So everything worked perfectly. 

False gazed at the back of Ren’s head. He didn’t have to accompany her, she was fine with being alone, but he knew she didn’t really like that. As a socially awkward person, she felt uncomfortable without her friends. And Ren knew that without her saying it.

… She was so thankful for Ren.

“Ohh look, is that the Decision Dome?”

False followed his gaze to a rainbow coloured floor topped with a glass dome, with a huge timer above it. “Yeah, that’s it. Man, Noxite outdid themselves. Look at how pretty this is!”

“It’s easily the most beautiful thing in the area. Second only to me, I mean,” Ren replied.

“I wish Noxite renovated the rest of the school as well. Maybe that’s why the main campus kids are so bad tempered. I would lose my mind if I had to stare at cobblestone walls eight hours a day.”

False introduced Ren to the different games. She’d done research on every one of them, plus she had heard some other participants talk about them. Ren nodded and observed their colourful surroundings excitedly like a child in a candy store. False couldn’t blame him. The Championships were awesome, even if it didn’t favour the hermits.

“Oh wait Falsie! Is that Jevin?”

False froze. Jevin’s blue hair appeared in her peripheral vision. “Uhh, yeah. That sorta looks like him? Or it may be Pete with dyed hair. I dunno.”

“No, that’s totally Jevin! I didn’t know he was in the Championship! Man, the hermits should’ve formed a whole cheering squad for him!”

False winced, and let out a fake laugh. Thankfully Ren was too distracted to pick that up. The “cheering squad” was exactly what Jevin was afraid of. 

“You know, you should stop mistaking the Green Gods for other people.” Ren teased her. “Like, in your head there’s only Fruit, the guy who looks like Fruit, and the guy who looks like Jevin.”

False jokingly hit him. “Ohh, stop it! I’m getting better at recognizing Dream!”

False let Ren pilot the drone since he was better at it anyway. The hermit duo shuffled away from everyone and found a nice corner to sit down. It didn’t offer the best view, but since they had the drone, it didn’t matter. False took out bananas for her and Ren to munch on while they watched the Championship. 

A second familiar figure in the Decision Dome caught False’s attention, and she gasped, “Hey! That’s Mr. Major!”

“Mr. Major!” Ren and False cried out, frantically waving their arms. It took them twenty seconds for Scott to notice them. Scott grinned at them, and mouthed the words “Go Hermits!”.

False took a look around. “Organizing a Championship of this quality… it must be tough for Mr. Major and Professor Noxite.”

“Certainly! We’ve got to appreciate their hard work.”

“Maybe we should actually behave and stop giving Mr. Major so many heart attacks in 3-H.”

“Tell that to the Boomers. It was a bad idea giving them explosives.”

The timer above the Decision Dome started to tick down. The crowd screamed and cheered for their favourite teams. 

“UWU MY OOMFS!!” an all too familiar voice screeched. Ren and False shared exasperated looks. Scott looked like someone was forcing him at gunpoint to smile. 

“Welcome to the 1st Championship!” Stan Twitt cried out. “I’m so so excited! SHDJKSDLSGH!”

“How did they say that out loud?” Ren said in amazement.

“By the way, shameless promotion time UwU! Best boi Dream just released another Manhunt video, please watch it—”

False and Ren watched as a good chunk of the audience stood up and left their seats, presumably to watch the new video. False’s jaw dropped. How could they give up watching the Championship live just to watch a video? Oh, it was totally because Dream wasn’t in the 1st Championship.

“For a long time, I thought Manhunts were a dating game,” Ren whispered to False. She gave him an odd look. “What? You hunt… men? That sounds like a dating game?”

“I’ve always thought it was a murdering game.” False had correctly inferred what Manhunts were. She probably knew more about Manhunts than Dream, the guy who popularized it. 

“Anyways, let the games begin! May the odds be in the favour of my UwU bois!”

Scott snatched the microphone, looking like he was in physical pain. “What Principal Twitt means is that may the odds be ever in your favour! These games are not biased or scripted! You have my word! Aaaand the 1st Championship begins… NOW!”

As expected, Jevin’s team did not do particularly well in the first half. They still got 6th, which was already very good in the hermits’ eyes. The PvPers from 3-A and 3-B utterly dominated the games. 

During the intermission, Ren took out his earphones. “Let’s listen to some chill music, Falsie. I screamed my lungs out and you must be so tired from taking notes.”

“Sure.” False rubbed her eyes. Ren popped an earbud in her ear and they both nodded their heads to the beat. “Your brother composed this one, yeah?”

“Spot on. I’m so proud of Jono.”

“I should probably commission him sometime. I know he did music for Grian.”

“Ohhh look, I just realized a hermit’s in the Championship,” an unfamiliar voice sneered. Ren and False instantly shared glances, their good mood ruined. Ren stopped playing the chill music.

“Poor little hermit trying to get back in the main campus… aww, how pathetic.”

False tensed. She didn’t want to lose her temper like she did at the Camera Incident, but she wasn’t going to let people slander her hermits. 

“Wait, is that Fruity sitting next to us?” Ren whispered.

False looked, and discovered Ren was correct. Fruit had a slight frown on his face for some reason. False blinked, once again starstruck by Fruit.

“Who’s this hermit again? A Pete wannabe?”

“I don’t know any of the hermits other than Grian, and that’s because Grian won some prestigious prize before. The hermits are so irrelevant. No wonder everyone looks down on them.”

“I can’t take this,” Ren growled. “I’m going to say something.” False nodded. “Me too.”

“Guys, guys…”

A soft voice interrupted False’s train of thought. It was Fruitberries. He was trying to get the attention of the main campus students, who blithely ignored him.

“Bruh, I don’t even know why the hermits are trying. They’re just a waste of space—”

“HEY!” Fruit bellowed, voice uncharacteristically loud, which shocked everyone into silence. Ren dropped his earphones. False dropped her bananas. 

“What have the hermits ever done to you?” Fruit demanded. “It’s not like they stole from you, or punched your face—”

“One of them hit my friend.”

“Oops. That was my doing,” False murmured to Ren.

“Fine. But has this particular student Jevin done anything to deserve your… insults?” Fruit continued. “He’s just existing. Let him be.”

“Fruit, are you standing up for the hermits? You’re protecting them? Really?”

Fruit shrugged. “What? I’m chill with everybody in this school. Why are we so unnecessarily cruel to strangers? I’ll stand up for anybody.”

“Ohhh Fruitberries, you’re a lone wolf, deviating from the rest of us,” one of the main campus kids drawled. “That’s why you don’t have any friends in this school.”

Fruit flinched. So did Ren and False. “Untrue, but whatever,” Fruit said in a lighthearted tone. “Just don’t bully people.”

(False had a feeling Fruit didn’t mean it when he said “whatever”.)

The main campus kid took a step closer to Fruit and jabbed a finger at his forehead. “Don’t think you’re so high and mighty because you’re one of those Green Gods,” they seethed. “How many people do you hang out with? How many fans do you have? Do people even find you outside of school? You’re good at fighting, and that’s probably the only reason why people even talk to you, sensei.” The last word was spat out with venom. 

“That’s what they all know you as. Some “sensei”. Someone who trained Techno and Dream. And now you’re known as a Hermit Lover.”

“A little embarrassing, really. Do you even deserve the Green God title?”

False found herself raging even though she barely knew who Fruit was. Nobody deserved to be hurt like that. God, not even Fruit was immune to being bullied. Stan Twitt’s school was even more terrible than she had thought. 

“K. You’re wasting my time.”

Fruit stiffly spun around and walked away, but False swore she saw Fruit’s hands tremble. Part of her wanted to chase after him, part of her wanted to “cancel” the person who insulted him (she won’t succeed in the cancelling, but oh well). Next to her, Ren had already stood up, expression unusually grim. 

“UWU GUYS!! THE INTERMISSION’S OVER!” Stan Twitt screeched. The audience screamed, hyped once again. 

“Hey! Don’t talk to Fruitberries like that!” Ren angrily shouted at the main campus students, but his voice was drowned out. False exhaled shakily. 

“That’s awful of them. I-I don’t know what to do. I mean, Fruit’s actually a stranger to us.”

“At least we can thank him for standing up for the hermits even if he doesn’t accept our comfort,” Ren pointed out. “I-I don’t know where he went though.”

“Let’s search for him,” False said without hesitation. She knew she had come to the Championship to learn from it, but no way in hell was she going to pretend that hadn’t happened. She wasn’t going to ignore Fruitberries, even if he was a main campus student.

“I’ll leave the drone up there so we can catch up on the Championship later.” Ren looked up, and gulped. “For now, let’s find Fruit and talk to him. He has to be here.”

What the hermits didn’t know was that their search would be futile. Because Fruit had already left the audience stands.

“Calling Illumina…”

“Pick up, pick up, please pick up,” a soft voice whispered with urgency. His feet moved on his own, carrying him to— he didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away.

“Connected.”

“...”

“Yeah, Illumina, I’m fineee. Oh, why am I calling you? Haha, for no particular reason.”

“...”

“I see.”

“...”

“So it’s a few months before you can enter my school?”

“...”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m doing alright here. They even call me a Green God! Haha… yeah.”

“...”

“Don’t worry, I’m making friends. I spar a lot with others. Even the really popular peeps like Techno and Dream. They call me “sensei”. Cool, isn’t it?”

“...”

“Oh. I talk a lot about HBomb, don’t I? He’s a fun guy. I mean, he has a lot of friends because he’s friends with practically everyone. So I probably don’t mean a lot to him.”

“...”

“Hahahaha. Sorry, was being self-deprecating.”

“...”

“You’re busy, aren’t you? Sorry for disturbing you. I don’t know why I made this call. Haha.”

His laughter was so fake. He didn’t know how he was fooling Illumina.

“...”

“Bye. Miss you too, Illumina.”

The call ended. He sighed, and absentmindedly brought his hands up to his face. His feet were still moving.

That was right. All he knew was how to run away like a coward. Always running. Always running, running away from people.

Chapter Text

“Heyo Fruit! How are you doing?”

Fruit grinned up at H. “I’m okay, thanks for asking. You did great at the 1st Championship, by the way.”

H groaned. “Too bad I didn’t win. It’s fine. We got third.”

“You’re gonna join the 2nd Championship, right? Sign ups just started.”

“You bet! I want to be in every Championship!”

They sparred a little more. Fruit always enjoyed training with H, and it wasn’t just because H was his friend (H totally wasn’t his only friend in the school). H was a good sport and gave him genuine praise, which was rare in an environment where connections meant everything and mindless simping was rampant. 

“Hey, H!”

H turned around to see Dream aka. the guy practically everyone mistook Fruit for. “”Wanna have dinner with the Dream SMP people?”

“Sure thing, Dream!” H whooped. He then turned back to Fruit, an apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry, Fruit, I got to go.”

“Oh, it’s alright. Gimme your equipment, I’ll clean it for you. Have a good time, H!”

Fruit watched as H left, laughing and chattering with Dream’s friends. He glanced down at his phone and resisted the urge to call Illumina.

“This is fine…”

Tired from writing down notes, False went to the school’s vending machine. To her surprise, she saw an exhausted Fruitberries there, his skin unusually pale. She watched as he punched some buttons and picked up an energy bar. False gulped.

C’mon False, she told herself. Just thank him for standing up for Jevin and the hermits. 

But by the time False had mustered up the courage to speak, Fruit had already slipped away.

False asked Jevin if he would consider joining more Championships. He said no. “I don’t think it’s my thing.”

“Ohh, alright.”

They both continued with their day.

The teams for the 2nd Championship were released. With her trusty banana hoodie around her shoulders, False went down to the main campus to catch a glimpse of the teams.

Technoblade. Tommy. Wilbur. They were part of the student council and huge names. False was rather surprised that the UwU Manhunt Master (or whatever his title was), the smiley-green-guy-who-was-not-Fruitberries, Dream himself was not participating again. Neither were his friends George and Sapnap. Oh, well. 

Familiar names from the 1st Championship popped up. HBomb. Eret. Pete. Sparklez. Dangthatsalongname.

Wait. Dang? The guy who looked exactly like Scott? False remembered being extremely confused by seeing two Scotts in the 1st Championship.

False asked Scott about Dang later. He cheekily replied with “Dang’s my clone! I’ve always wanted to participate in the Championships, so I cloned myself!”

“That’s so relatable!” Wels, who overheard them, cheered. Scott’s smile melted, only slightly.

“Wait, Wels actually cloned himself?” Scott whispered to False once Wels was out of earshot.

“Yeah, Hels. They had a really cool rap battle. It went viral on YouTube,” False said with a shrug like summoning evil clones of yourself was part of everyday life (which it was, considering she was in 3-H). 

“Oh no. I was joking about Dang being my clone. He’s actually my little cousin. The Scott genes are just too strong.”

“Alright. Less exciting than having a clone, but I’ll accept it.”

“Less exciting? How crazy are you guys exactly?”

“You don’t wanna know, Mr. Major.”

One time False fell asleep while watching the practice sessions. She didn’t wake up until a guy nudged her shoulder and said, “Hey, Banana Girl, it’s time to go.”

False blinked her eyes blearily, and she realized two things:

1. He had called her Banana Girl
2. He was HBomb

But before she could do anything, he had already walked away, leaving her sitting alone in the dim light.

Ren found her watching the PvPers and joined her. Everything was always a lot more fun with Ren. He would give the PvP moves wacky yet memorable (and occasionally inappropriate) names, and he was there to lighten the mood. But one time they were so distracted by coming up with a joint building design that they talked about it for three hours straight (and the night afterwards) and completely neglected the very exciting Dream VS Techno fight that was going on.

Ren was fun, but also distracting. But False would rather have fun than be efficient. And she knew all of the hermits thought the same.

Ren and False watched the 2nd Championship together. None of the hermits were joining. A new game was added— Battle Box. All ten teams had to face and duel each other in a pit filled with obstacles and power ups. 

“This looks terrifying.” Ren shivered.

“This is probably one of those that we’re bad at,” False pointed out. 

They didn’t have any teams they supported, but they took extra notice of Grian’s friends from 3-G, which were Martyn and Jimmy. They were in Yellow Yolks.

“They’re not bad at this,” False commented. “Maybe we can team up with them some day? Since y’know, 3-GH solidarity. Crafters’ solidarity.”

They had both missed watching Dodgebolt last time because they were searching for Fruit. This time, they watched as Aqua and Cyan faced each other on the Dodgebolt court, with Stan Twitt standing in the middle and screaming.

“UWU MY BOI TOMMY’S IN DODGEBOLT! I guess he’s TommyInnit the finals!”

“I feel like Stan Twitt is gonna be here for every single Dodgebolt,” Ren whispered to False. “Someone should shut them up.”

“Aww, poor Mr. Major. He looks like he’s dying.”

False observed the top two teams, and saw one familiar face. “Ooh! HBomb’s in Aqua!”

“Ohh, the guy who reminds you of me?”

“Yeah, H!”

Ren scrutinized H. “I can sort of see that. He’s gorgeous like me. So, are we supporting Aqua?”

False paused. “I’m a little hesitant to support any of these teams because we don’t really know them. Not to mention many of the finalists are in 3-A and they usually treat us hermits the worst. HBomb seems nice, but I’ve only seen him be nice to the main campus people.”

“Yeah, I guess we can’t really trust them…” Ren looked dejected. 

Despite that, both of them still smiled when H and his team won the 2nd Championship. False knew better than to get attached to a potentially dangerous stranger, but H genuinely seemed friendly enough. Stan Twitt was rioting and clapping. Scott had put on headphones, which was a smart decision. 

“Oh hey look, that’s Fruity!” Ren called out, pointing at the familiar green figure that appeared on the court. “He’s congratulating H!”

“Yeah, they’re friends. They practice with each other a lot.”

Ren squinted his eyes. “Dudes, this HBomb guy sure is popular. He has so many friends! Look at the crowd of people around him!”

“Perks of being loud and in 3-A, I guess. Ohh, even Dream’s there. All the Green Gods are congratulating him.”

“He seems to be very well-liked,” False noted. “I wonder why he isn’t in the Student Council… that being said, none of the Green Gods are in the Student Council.”

“True! I think Dream just invited his close friends. Or maybe Stan Twitt forced him to invite his close friends,” Ren murmured conspiratorially. He furtively glanced around even though no one could possibly overhear them. “There’s a lot of weird stuff surrounding Stan Twitt.”

“You look really sus, Ren.”

“Not as sus as Stan Twitt. Well, anyways, thanks for watching this Championship with me!”

Ren grinned at her. “Sure thing!”

… Ren was just with her because he knew she didn’t like being lonely, right?

After Jevin, Iskall was False’s other choice for a Championship buddy. She and Iskall had been sent to 3-H for the same reasons (they protected Mumbo when he was being bullied), and they had both been in 2-B. Out of everyone in 3-H, they were the closest to the 3-A people in terms of PvP skill level. So other than her, Iskall was probably the other hermit who wanted to win. 

But when False asked him after signups for the 3rd Championship started, Iskall said he was interested, but he was focusing on something else at the moment. Something about “modpacks” and “servers”. 

“Maybe a few months later,” Iskall told her. “To be honest, being in 3-H made me branch out and explore new stuff. So I’m not into PvP as much now.”

“Alright. Your modpack thing sounds cool.”

As False walked away, she could hear Ren blasting Jono’s music as he cheerfully chopped down trees, oblivious to False and Iskall’s conversation.

So False did not join the 3rd Championship, but she still went to the practice sessions. Instead of purely taking notes, she decided to actually practice. With her trusty hoodie, no one would recognize her as a hermit. So, she leapt around the parkour practice area and climbed up and down ladders. She was nowhere near as good as everyone else, but at least she was trying, right?

… False was beginning to feel like a Fruit wannabe. Fruit was always wearing his lime green jacket to the point the jacket symbolized him— wait, Dream’s similarly coloured hoodie was probably more iconic because Dream had more “clout”. So maybe False was a Dream wannabe.

False was starting to recognize more Championship players. There were some who were in every Championship, such as HBomb, Dang, and Dang’s best friend Shubble. But there were always new faces, and none of the familiar faces from 3-G or 3-H. Well, Martyn and Jimmy were there quite often, but False hadn’t spoken to them.

… Man, False really didn’t speak to a lot of people. That was why she needed Ren. More like, she needed to step out of her comfort zone. 

She was so preoccupied by her thoughts that she missed a jump, and painfully landed on the trampoline below the parkour practice area. Thankfully, she wasn’t hurt, just a little disoriented. A hand appeared in her vision. 

“Hey! You alright?”

False instantly recognized the voice despite never having spoken to the person. She glanced upwards, and kind blue eyes gazed down at her.

HBomb.

False found herself getting oddly flustered. “Ohh, uhh, I’m alright!” She was so nervous she ignored H’s hand and tried to push herself up, but realized she couldn’t. She hastily took his hand and he helped her up. “Thank you.”

“I always see you around, Banana Girl.” There was no trace of mockery in his tone when he said her nickname; he even sounded friendly. “Will I see you in the Championships?”

False scratched the back of her head. “Uhh, maybe? If my friends join with me? Not this one, though.”

H nodded, understanding. False felt the atmosphere grow awkward. That was why she didn’t talk to strangers!

“Thanks again, I’ll be,” False nodded towards the door, “I have something to do. Uh. Bye.”

(False, did not, in fact “have something to do”. She had reserved the entire afternoon for practice.)

She hurried outside, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. Talking with people was so hard. And she was already feeling so… threatened by some nice guy who reminded her of one of her best friends. 

That was right. Ren. H always reminded False of Ren. She patted her pockets, trying to find her phone to see if Ren had texted her or something—

Her hands froze.

Her pockets were empty.

“Banana Girl!”

False flinched at the loud voice, but she didn’t show it. She stiffly turned around, and H ran up to her, a familiar object in his hand. “You dropped this.”

“Ahh, thank you.”

Just as False stretched out a hand to take her phone, a text lit up her screen. It was from the 3-H chat, and the words “3-HERMITCRAFT” were boldly displayed on the screen.

Both False and H stared at the phone for a little too long. False’s heart sunk. Now H knew she was in 3-H. What would he do? Mock her being bad at parkour and say she would never win?

But H just slipped the phone in her hand, smiled, and walked away. It was like he had never seen the text even though False was 100% sure he did. 

False grasped her phone tightly, staring at H’s retreating backside.

What had just happened?

Ren and False watched the 3rd Championship together. The “supermarket game” (as Dream put it) was played for the first time, and for some odd reason it was hugely disliked. 

“Why is everyone hating Build Mart?” Ren questioned while munching on the cookies False had baked.

False was equally baffled. “It’s a game that tests communication and cooperation and how well you can work with your teammates in a… team-based competition? Like, if you have to “hate” a game, it has to be Parkour Warrior, right? That’s the least team-related game.”

“I know, right? Build Mart looks fun,” Ren said. “I kinda wish I can play it.”

“BOOHOO!” Stan Twitt was screeching, flapping their arms. “This is soooo boring! Build Mart (derogatory)!”

“H-how did Stan even say parentheses out loud?!” False wheezed. 

“At this point, I’ve stopped questioning Stan Twitt. You know, Falsie, you should make cookies of Stan’s ugly head so we can crunch them for catharsis.”

“Will do. I’m afraid that will ruin everyone’s appetite, though.”

“Ren, can I talk to you for a second?”

Ren stopped chopping down trees and wiped his sweaty forehead. “Oh, hi Mr. Major. Am I in trouble?” (Ren always automatically assumed he was in trouble.)

Scott chuckled. “No, not at all. I was wondering if you’re interested in joining the Championships.”

Ren gestured at himself. “Me?” he questioned incredulously.

“I’ve seen you watch all of the Championships with False. And I know you guys watch practice sessions together too.”

“Yeah… but the thing is, I… don’t think I should be in the Championships?”

Scott wrinkled his nose and looked like he was about to retort. He said, “You’re wrong, but go on.”

“Like I’m one of the worst PvPers in this class,” Ren laughed. “And Falsie… well, she probably wants to win and go back to the main campus. The Championships look fun but… there are hermits out there who’ll be a better fit.”

Scott studied Ren. “Okay, stop thinking about False for a moment. Do you want to try playing in the Championships!”

“It looks so cool, and it’s such a well organised event! I’ll be honored to play there, that is, if I get accepted—“ Ren saw Scott’s face. “Oh, who am I kidding? My own teacher is in charge of deciding who gets to participate.”

“Not to sound biased, but if any of my students want to join, I’ll definitely let them in.” A pause. “Alright, I’m totally biased. You guys deserve recognition.”

Ren self-consciously rubbed his arms. “The Championships do look a lot of fun, but man… I dunno… it gets really competitive. And False is gonna be competitive.”

“But disregarding what you think, you want to join, right?”

“.. Yeah?”

“Then you should join!” Scott said brightly. “If it’s too much to want to win, you can always join for fun at first. The Championships are enjoyable, and not to brag, but we have overwhelmingly positive reviews even if Stan Twitt ruins some of the fun. Besides, you’ve watched all the Championships so you’re quite familiar with how it works. And your skills aren’t bad at all! You chop down trees every day, which is something I won’t do. And you’ve been doing this for months, if not years! You’re a professional!”

“Yeah… that sounds great, but False probably wants like, I dunno,” Ren vaguely waved his hands, “Iskall to join with her. Or Cub. Or even Grian. They’re all better at PvP than I am.”

Scott sighed, getting mildly exasperated by how Ren was looking down on himself. “Ren, think about it. Who saw False going down to watch the 1st Championship alone and joined her? Who went to watch every Championships with her? Who went with her to the practice sessions? You. I’m pretty sure she wants you to team up with her.”

“B-but she didn’t ask me!”

Scott slapped his forehead. “Yeah, probably because she thinks you don’t want to join, and you don’t want to join because you think she doesn’t want you to join… oh goodness. This is getting unnecessarily complex and annoying. Just tell her you want to be in. I promise you it’ll end well. Just go and stop each other’s suffering.”

Scott stuffed a sheet of paper in Ren’s hands. It was the sign up form for the 4th Championship. Ren gripped it, still looking slightly hesitant. 

“You got this, Ren,” Scott patted Ren’s shoulder. “The Championships aren’t as great when all the players are sweaty and from 3-A and 3-B. As your homeroom, I really hope more hermits join, even if you don’t win. It’s a wonderful experience.”

A smile finally broke out on Ren’s face. “Alright! If you say so, Mr. Major.”

“That’s False over there!” Scott nudged Ren in False’s direction. “Come on, go talk to her!”

As Ren hurried over to False, Scott sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Man, I really deserve a pay raise.”

“Alright, Grian won another competition and all everyone is talking about is Naruto running?!”

“Iskall, chill! Naruto running can be… very important as well.” A pause. “I actually have no idea what Naruto running is, but Etho reminds me of Kakashi and Kakashi reminds me of Naruto, and Etho’s extremely cool, so Naruto running must be extremely cool as well.”

“But Grian, you legitimately got a job offer by Mojang!” Iskall exclaimed. “Mojang’s like, the biggest company in the world! And you’re what, a student?! Mojang hired a student?”

Grian flushed. “Iskall, you don’t need to say that so many times! Literally everyone here knows I got a job!”

Iskall pursed his lips and glared at the pathetically tiny blob of cobblestone grey that was the main campus. “But they don’t! And even if they did, they probably wouldn’t care.”

Grian leaned back on his chair. “Yeahh, that’s because of all the clout in this school. Some invisible… energy that fuels Stan Twitt. Or something. It’s what makes the popular people even more popular.” 

“Grian, you’re pretty popular. You have a bunch of fans at school. But you’re still overlooked because some others have more clout. And our beloved Principal Stan Twitt loves this system.”

Grian suddenly snapped his fingers. “Oh man! I just had a great idea!” he burst out. “Clout Resistance. And remember… it’s all about the Principal. Because the Principal is why this school sucks.”

Iskall clutched his sides and chuckled. “It’s all about the Principal. I like that, Grian.”

Next to them, False quietly stood, a sheet of paper in her hands. Iskall’s laughter was infectious, and the corners of her lips couldn’t help but quirk up. But that smile rapidly evaporated when False returned her attention to the sheet of paper, which was the signup form for the 4th Championship. 

False had spent the last three Championships learning and honing her skills. She believed it was time for her to get a bit of real experience. But the problem was: she hadn’t found a hermit who wanted to go to the Championship. And no way was False participating in the Championships without her hermits. 

False stepped out of the classroom and felt the breeze blow through her hair. She glanced at the still-empty sign up form. After the 1st Championship, she had asked Jevin, who said no. After the 2nd Championship, she had asked Iskall, who also said no. Was she going to miss this one again? Was she going to have to beg the 3-G people to join with her? Iskall had told her he was interested, but when would he be free to join? Was False really going to have to wait for—

“Falsie!”

False spun to see Ren dashing towards her with a brilliant smile and a piece of paper in his hand. Behind him, she could see Scott with a proud look on his face. Ren threw his hands around her before she could react. Surprised, False stumbled backwards and hit a wall, but she hugged him back nevertheless.

“Uh, Ren? What’s going on?” she asked in confused joy. 

Ren grabbed her shoulders. “Falsie, I’ll go to the 4th Championship with you!” he declared.

And suddenly False felt very stupid. Of all people, she had somehow never managed to ask Ren even though he had always been with her at Championship-related stuff. Of course it was Ren. 

“You’ll go with me?”

Ren’s eyes were soft yet bright. “Yeah, of course—”

False hugged Ren so hard he nearly fell down. “Oh my goodness, you don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” she whispered. “We’re gonna have so much fun together!”

“Totally! B-but wait, you’re kind of choking me—”

False released Ren from her tight bear hug. “Oops, sorry,” she grinned sheepishly. “Got a little over-excited.”

“Oh, har har. I didn’t—I didn’t know you would be so happy.”

False stared at Ren like he had grown a wolf tail (now False thought about it, that wouldn’t be very surprising). “Ren, you’re my friend. Why won’t I be overjoyed?”

Ren cleared his throat. “Yeah. Umm. Just some stupid insecurity,” he muttered. “It’s okay now.”

It felt like a heavy weight had been taken off False’s shoulders. Joining the Championship sure was scary, but now that Ren was here, it suddenly didn’t seem as scary as before. So long she had her friends, False was sure she would be okay. 

“We’ve got so much to do!” False exclaimed, pacing back and forth, her eyes alight with excitement. “We’ve go to find two other teammates, and organize practice sessions, and—”

Ren threw his head back and cackled. “We’re Rendog and FalseSymmetry! We’re comin’ for ya!” he roared. “Prepare yourselves, ‘cause we’ll beat your butts up!”

False found Fwhip, one of her old friends from the main campus. Fwhip was one of the few main campus students that False still had good relations with after her demotion. Fwhip was also in the Legacy friend group along with Skizzleman (Impulse’s best friend for like a decade), ZloyXP (another good friend who was such a mega fan of the hermits he even made documentaries about them along with Pixlriffs), and Pearl (Grian’s friend). Python, another Legacy member, was part of the Kingdomcraft gang in their first year, and was nearly demoted to 3-H, but made it out. Quite a lot of Legacy members were close with the hermits due to their shared love for crafter and designing.

“3-GH solidarity!” Fwhip cheered. “LET’S GOOO!”

The trio were joined by Katherine, who had been in previous Championships. Katherine was the only teammate who had actually participated in the old Championships, so they were all kind of relying on her. Katherine was in the X Life group, which included Fwhip, Dang, Shubble, Joel, and Joel’s partner Lizzie. Surprisingly, HBomb was also part of X Life before, but all False heard now was how he was part of the Dream Gang (probably because of the clout). 

“We crafters stick together!” Ren declared. “But thanks for teaming with us hermits. You know how everyone hates us.”

Fwhip lowered his voice, “To be honest, most of my friends like the hermits. Everyone stans Etho. It’s just that Stan Twitt makes it seem like you guys are irrelevant.”

“Yeah, Stan Twitt is so weird!” Katherine chimed in. “I don’t know why Dream’s friends get most of the attention, when the crafters’ community is way larger.”

“Exactly! That’s why we’re gonna overthrow Stan Twitt’s system,” False vowed.

The countdown to the 4th Championship was starting. False shivered, suddenly nervous upon seeing all the PvPers next to her. They were terrifying, but Dang aka. Scott’s cousin still was the most terrifying because he looked completely identical to Scott. The four crafters had practiced, but they were probably nowhere near those who had practised their entire lives. 

“You good, Falsie?”

False spun to look at Ren. “If it’s too scary, we can just aim for having fun this time,” Ren said cheerfully. 

“Yeah, I think that’s what I’ll do. It’s too unrealistic to expect that we’ll get a good ranking first time.” False took a deep breath. So long had she waited for this day, standing on the sidelines, desperate for the chance to redeem herself and the hermits. Now that she was actually in the Championship Arena, she could hardly believe her eyes. Good thing she had her friends with her, in particular Ren. He was her neighbour, her friend, a hermit, and now her teammate. Ren was always a constant in her life, and False hoped it would be this way.

False took out her phone. “Hey Ren, let’s take photos!”

The duo shifted closer and the phone’s camera flashed. Their matching smiles were now frozen in time. False happily hummed to herself as she saved the photo.

This was just one of the many they would take. After all, they would only join the Championships if they had each other. 

Later, they would be known as Renpog and False Supremacy, but for now, they were just Ren and False. Ren and False against Stan Twitt and the entire world. 

Chapter Text

What is this wave of nervousness? It’s proof of our existence 

It surges as we look up into the moon

Let’s get this over with!

Like any other Championships, the 4th Championship started with all teams voting in the Decision Dome. The votes were digital and power ups would be randomly given to teams to interfere with the voting. Sometimes, a school-wide audience vote would be conducted to decide the game, which were often rumoured to be rigged by Stan Twitt (which they vehemently denied, but no one believed Stan). 

Their first game was Skyblockle, which mainly consisted of teams starting out on tiny islands and using ropes to build bridges across islands and collect equipment. Players would wear special suits with lights on their chestplate to indicate how much “health” they had. If their health was all gone, they would be eliminated. Weapons included the typical sword and axe (all blunted, of course), BB guns, and rubber knives. “Health” could be recovered by placing “food” on the suit, which were colourful, one-use magnetic stickers. “Food” such as “bread” recovered a small portion of health, but special foods such as the “golden apple” temporarily reduced the damage you would take. False knew that because she had an extensive list of all the “foods” listed down. A first aid team always stood by the side in case someone got hurt. 

Each participant had an ear radio and microphone so they could talk with their teammates even if they were far away. It was also how the Championship Commentator would announce eliminations, game changes, and other information. 

“So much high tech has gone into making this Championship,” Ren praised. “Really appreciate Noxcrew and Noxite.”

Skyblockle was a very PvP intensive game, and False knew they weren’t going to do well. Still, she didn’t expect Tommy to knock out three of her teammates and be the first team eliminated. Before she knew it, False had landed on the trampoline, known as “The Void”, that covered the entire floor of the Skyblockle arena.

“Ouch, that hurt. One guy eliminated all three of us,” Ren moaned, massaging his back. 

“Hey… at least we got this game out early? When the multiplier’s low?” False offered.

The next game, Build Mart, was a sigh of relief. Finally, it was something they were familiar with. Players had to run around a “supermarket” and collect palm-sized blocks from different areas, then run back to their workbenches and assemble a “build” according to the model that was provided. They did pretty well (for their standards) and got 4th.

“I mean, we are crafters,” Fwhip announced proudly. “We literally do this all the time.”

Survival Games was chosen next, and the four of them started rubbing their hands, adrenaline pumping through their veins. “This is what we’ve been training for,” Ren declared. “We’re good at surviving, aren’t we?”

False laughed. “We survived 3-H and this school. I think we’re pretty good,” she joked. 

Survival Games was the only game without an arena, as the entire school would be the battleground. Everyone had to wait fifteen minutes for the staff and teachers to quickly set up loot chests (“No, you can’t bribe them! Shame on you.”). The center of the campus would be the “spawn”, and red lasers would mark out the border of the battleground, which would shrink periodically. They were told the lasers were only for the visual effect and wouldn’t hurt you (unless you directly stared at them and burned your eyes), and would only reduce your “virtual health”. In addition to normal chests, eliminated players had to drop their equipment on the ground for others to pick up. There were also “airdrops”, or special equipment that occasionally descended from the sky via drones. 

Ren nudged False. “Falsie, it’s time for your PvP skills to shine!”

False flushed. “What do you mean? I’m not very good compared to these people.”

“I know you were in 2-B!” Katherine laughed. “You’re good at this, False!”

False subconsciously hid behind Ren. “I’m-I’m gonna let you guys down,” she laughed.

Despite that, False somehow led her team in Survival Games. She instructed everyone to run away from spawn and loot chests for equipment, which not only included armour, weapons, food stickers, but also real food and water (since the game would last a while).

“Oh look, that’s the red laser border!” Katherine pointed at the sky. “We should stay away.”

Ren panted and he leaned against a wall. “Yeah, we should. Man, I’m getting thirsty. Anyone have water?”

“Wait, I found something.” False rummaged through a chest. “Two bottles of water, three packets of crackers, a few food stickers, plus an airgun? This is nice. Ooh, here’s a chestplate for you, Fwhip.”

False tossed the supplies at her teammates, and gulped down some water, the cool liquid soothing her throat. “Alright guys, we’ve got to keep running.”

“We should try to enchant our gear, right?” Ren said. 

“Totally. Does anyone have any “books”?” False asked. “We need to find anvils, and let it scan the book and the weapon at the same time for it to be enchanted.”

Fwhip chuckled. “You sure did your research, False.”

False allowed herself to be a little smug. “Yeah, I did. I tried my best to prepare.”

The four of them stuck close and ran up stairs to “get the high ground” (“Falsie, maybe we can defeat them with the power of memes.” “I sure hope so, Ren.”). Ren briefly got lost, and False had to find him.

“How did you even get separated?” False demanded, dragging Ren behind her. “I stop looking for a moment and you’re gone!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault these cobblestone corridors look exactly the same!” Ren defended himself.

“He’s got a point,” Fwhip quipped.

False sighed. “Yeah, I know. This school is so ugly.”

Thanks to escaping and running away from everyone and cleverly choosing when to take risks, the team did decently and even got 4th in Survival Games. Getting beat up by PvPers was pretty painful, but at least their virtual health decreased quickly and saved them from extra agony. At one point, False was the only teammate surviving and was eliminated by Technoblade. Once her health had completely decreased, Techno stopped hitting her and quickly moved on. He didn’t give her a second glance. False stumbled to her feet and rubbed her bruised legs. Technoblade was as strong and as terrifying as the rumours said he were. Blood for the Blood God, False thought. 

“False!” Katherine called from the sidelines. “Remember to drop your items!”

“Oops, sorry.” False turned her bag over and allowed the bottle of water and her food stickers to fall out. She hurried towards her eliminated teammates.

“False, you good?” Katherine called out worriedly. “The Blood God got you!”

“He’s an efficient PvPer,” False muttered, checking herself for any wounds. “He didn’t deal any unnecessary damage— hey, where’s Ren?”

Fwhip and Katherine exchanged looks. Dread crept into False’s heart. “Don’t tell me he’s—”

False glimpsed a familiar figure sitting outside the first aid tents. “Th-that’s Ren! Oh goodness, what happened?!”

“It’s just a scratch—” Fwhip told her, but False was not listening. She dashed towards the first aid tents, or at least as fast as she could with pain throbbing from her legs.

Ren was sitting on one of those plastic chairs, someone tending to his cheek. “Hey Falsie!” he managed to grin. “I’m okay! Just fell down and scratched my cheek. No big deal.”

False breathed a sigh of relief. “Take care, Ren.”

“Will do.” Ren flashed her a thumbs up. “I’ll have this bandage on for quite some time. Like the battle scar on your cheek. We’re matching now.”

False instinctively rubbed a thumb across the scar on her cheek. It served as a physical reminder of why she was in 3-H and what she stood for.

… Yes, False wanted to win. She wanted to get back into the main campus. But friendship was always more important.

So False hugged Ren. “I’m glad it was just a scratch,” she whispered.

To Get To The Other Side and Whack a Fan was chosen next. (The fans were literally the electronic appliances fans. Scott sure loved his puns.) The aim was simple: to get to the other side whether by using ropes for bridging, or via parkour, or climbing up ladders.

“They added zip lines this Championship,” False told them (she had watched all of the update videos.) 

Ren’s face lit up. “Yeah, I saw. Zip lines should be our thing, Falsie. We installed so many of them in the forest next to our classroom so we can transport resources quicker.”

Katherine shot them a look. “Aren’t those expensive?”

Fwhip laughed. “Katherine, the hermits are rich. I know some of them have jobs at Mojang, and they gain revenue from making videos and films.”

Thankfully for the hermits, the zip lines also appeared in the next game— Rocket Spleef.

In Rocket Spleef, there were many small platforms with zip lines connecting to each other. Everyone’s clasp could be opened by a magnet that everybody had, so if you got close enough to somebody, you could open their clasp and eliminate them. Everybody had a safety line so they wouldn’t fall and die (Scott was careful to make sure of that. There was even a safety net at the bottom). Speed was essential, because people could catch you quickly and you could crash with someone on the same zip line. And if you got too low, you had no way up and would be eliminated. Each platform had a special line that could be activated once for the entire round, which would bring you to the top and let you descend again. One a certain amount of time had passed, random zip lines would start getting blocked, resulting in fewer and fewer zip lines for the participants. 

False, to everyone but her team’s surprise, survived all three rounds of Rocket Spleef. She expertly zipped to platforms and elegantly landed, unlike some of her opponents who just slammed into the platforms. It boosted their morale a lot, until one incident during the third round.

“False! Help!”

False spun to see Katherine on one of the lower platforms, someone rushing towards her. False instantly zipped towards Katherine, but she was too late.

“Hello Katherine!” Tommy bellowed, then used his magnet to unclasp Katherine’s clasp. “JUST KILLED A WOMAN, FEELING GOOD!” He shouted in glee as Katherine plummeted.

“He’s so loud,” False muttered under her breath. Next to her ear, the Commentator boomed “Katherineeliz was killed by TommyInnit!”.

Rocket Spleef wasn’t without mishaps, though. False accidentally eliminated Fwhip one time. “Sorry!” She yelled. “I didn’t mean it!”

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” Fwhip chuckled. 

The next game was Battle Box, which was straightforward. Teams would battle each other and fill up in the “box” in the middle with cubes of their team’s colour. The first team to fill up the entire box with their colour would win. There were nine rounds, and they had to battle all teams, which was what scared False a little. They won a few more rounds than everyone expected them to, which already satisfied them.

Hole in the Wall was chosen next. Participants would stand on an elevated platform as differently shaped sponge walls came in from all four sides. If they were knocked off (and landed on the trampoline), they would be eliminated. 

“I have the advantage here,” Ren joked, “because I’m short!”

“You have to be fast though,” False told him. “I’ve heard of people crawling through holes they’re not supposed to get through, but I don’t know how to do that.”

Katherine performed the best out of the four, probably because she had experience.

“Oww!” False yelped as one of the sponge walls hit her head, and she was knocked off. She bounced on the trampoline and she fought to regain her balance. 

“False! You alright?”

“Thanks.” False gripped Ren’s outstretched hand without hesitation (she was reminded of H who did the same thing when she fell down during parkour practice). 

“Ren! False!”

The hermits’ eyes lit up. “Mr. Major!”

“How are the games so far?” Scott, who was standing on the sidelines, waved at them. “Anything you want to change?”

False rubbed her head. “Well, uh, maybe make the sponge walls softer?”

“Will do. Herman, please put that down for me.”

It was then when they noticed there was a stranger standing next to Scott. The “Herman” person didn’t look… quite human. That was a polite way of putting it. Curly horns protruded from their head. Most noticeable of all were the giant feathered wings on their back. Herman saw the hermits looking at them, and grinned at them. 

“Uhh, who’s that?” Ren asked.

“Someone who likes cosplaying,” Scott told him. “You’ll meet him soon enough. For now, focus on the Championship!”

The final game was Parkour Warrior, which was everyone’s least favourite game. Or at least that was what False thought. (“How does Build Mart get more hate than Parkour Warrior?!” “I know right! Stan Twitt’s influence is so annoying.”)

It was frustrating seeing people effortlessly jump past them. False groaned as she fell down again and again. Sweat dripped from her face. Every muscle of hers was exhausted. They had gotten through seven games, and it didn’t help that False struggled with parkour the most. Morale was slightly dropping, and it was because they had no way of getting in Dodgebolt.

… They still had fun, though. And that was enough for False. Just for now. 

Because she knew she would never be satisfied until she got into Dodgebolt. 

I’ll get there, False promised herself. I’ll make them all look at me one day.

They got 7th, which wasn’t bad, considering they were all crafters. Tommy, Techno, Wilbur and Philza won the 4th Championship, which was a little sad as they were supporting Vikk and Pete’s team in Dodgebolt.

“Look at the Protagonist Armour,” Katherine sighed. “Stan Twitt is so happy. I think they’re all in the Student Council.”

“Aren’t they like, a roleplay family or something?” Fwhip asked. “People call them the Sleepy Bois Inc. I literally have no idea where that name came from.”

“A roleplay family,” Ren chortled. “That’s cute. Our entire class is also a family.”

“Yeah, TFC calls us a ‘great big psychotic dysfunctional family’. It fits.”

“UWU SBI WON!!” Stan Twitt screeched, hugging each of the team members. Tommy looked like he was about to swear. “Techno-senpai! Philza Minecraft! UwU!”

“Let’s get out before our ears bleed,” Fwhip deadpanned. The Yellow Yaks made a speedy exit.

“That was really fun!” Ren whooped. “Let’s do this again!”

“Ohh, you bet!” False replied with a grin. “I’m not stopping!”

Championships happened on Fridays. False and Ren rested well for the weekend, and returned to school, now energised. The class knew they were in the Championships, and quite a number of them had enthusiastically cheered for them. Cub in particular had used the drones to film the entire Championship, and gave Ren and False the footage so they could learn from their mistakes.

A surprising number of hermits were morning people, and most of them arrived at school an hour before it started (it was because the school gave them creative freedom and they liked being with their friends). False glanced around the classroom, which was a colossal mess of a rustic house, a glass aquarium, a llama pen, a water pool, and filled with hundreds of weird trinkets that False couldn’t name. Bdubs was scolding Scar for staying up late again (Bdubs was the only person who slept the instant the sun set). Etho was cheerfully thumping on some noteblocks and recording music. Cub looked like he was making a very important phone call. 

“OHHHH MY GOODNESS!”

Grian rushed into their classroom, cheeks rosy with excitement.

“What’s up?” Mumbo casually asked. “Did you get another job offer again?”

“NOO! It’s Fruity B!” Grian screamed, jumping up and down. “He and Illumina got the world record for co-op speedrunning! I stayed up till 3am rewatching their streams!! They’re so cool!”

“Speedrunning?”

“Wait, isn’t that the Naruto running thing that Etho does?”

Etho stopped playing his noteblock music. “I may look like Kakashi, but I’m not connected to Naruto running.”

“You guys don’t know what speedrunning is?” Grian demanded. “How… blasphemous!”

“You didn’t know until Fruit started speedrunning,” Iskall pointed out. “But I mean, big mood. Fruitberries is our patron saint.”

“Hermits, settle down, settle down.”

Upon hearing Scott’s voice, the hermits instantly quieted down. They could quite easily overpower him and ignore him, but they liked Scott, so they were nice to him. (Scott was grateful for that. The hermits were already feral even when they were being nice. Who knew what crazy stuff they would do if they were properly angry.)

“Good morning everyone!” Scott greeted them all cheerfully. “Today we’ll have a simple essay test on the history of Minecraft which you’ll definitely ace. I don’t know why I’m giving out this test. Maybe I just want you guys to all get good grades. Also Cub, I appreciate you so much but please do not write me an 10k word essay this time. I loved reading it, but marking it is another thing. You’re welcome to send me anything outside of school though.”

“Cool!” Cub cheered. “I’m working on an essay about taxes in Ancient Egypt. It has 8k words now.”

“Fantastic!” Scott’s enthusiasm was unaffected. “So umm hermits, lately I’ve been getting a little busy with organizing Championships and teaching you all. And I really hate neglecting you even though you all do fine without me. So, I’ve hired a teaching assistant! Hermits, meet Herman Blur.”

Herman Blur stepped in. False noticed that they looked different from the last time they saw them. Today, Herman had vex wings, werewolf ears, and a cowboy hat.

“Hey hermits!” Herman Blur said. “Nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so much about you from Scott, and I’m a huge fan.” He noticed everyone was staring at his wings. “Oh don’t mind these, I like cosplaying as nonhumans. Humans are boring.”

“They sure are!” Grian chimed in. All eyes stared at him. “Whoops, I just exposed my true identity as a multi-dimensional god. Guess I wasn’t watching myself. Just kidding. I would’ve blown the school up if I was a god.”

“Oh, you would,” all the hermits and Scott muttered in unison. 

“Anyways, I hope you get along with Herman Blur!” Scott said. “He’s a great artist, so I think you guys will vibe really well.”

Everybody did, in fact, like Herman Blur a lot. Grian excitedly asked for multiple eyes to be tattooed to his face, and Scar asked if he could get a copy of the vex wings. Herman also drew the 3-H classroom because he liked it so much, and the hermits framed it and placed it smack dab in the middle of the wall. 

“I don’t think anyone outside of our small circle has appreciated our art so much,” Xisuma confessed. “Well, other than the companies that keep on offering us jobs.”

“You guys deserve all goodness in the world!” Herman Blur told them. “I just feel really inspired by you all.”

And for two weeks after the 4th Championship, Ren and False returned to their peaceful daily life in 3-H (they said it was peaceful, and it was peaceful even with the pranks and wars and explosions. At least they weren’t getting beaten up by PvPers.). But soon, sign ups for the 5th Championship began. Iskall told False she would join so they just needed one more person. And False knew who to ask.

“Cub? You busy?”

“Not really.” Cub was polishing one of his many drones. “What brings you here, False?”

Ever since the 4th Championship, False had gotten a little braver. “I was wondering if you'd like to join the 5th Championship with us? Ren, Iskall and I are going.”

False had always asked Cub to play minigames with her even during their second year. Cub was funny, witty, and a pretty smart guy. Not to mention he was one of the most hardworking of the hermits, and that was saying a lot because they were all hardworking. And Cub was the one who lent her his drones, and probably knew at least a bit about the Championship.

Cub perked up. “Sure! I’ll like to join. I want to try something new, and I’m tired of the main campus invalidating our hard work.”

“Great!” False stretched out a hand, and Cub took it. “Welcome on board!”

… And it was as simple as that. The first whole hermit team in the Championships was formed. And Scott couldn’t be more proud.

“HERMITCRAFTERS IN THE CHAMPIONSHIP!” Herman Blur hooted. “I believe in you guys!”

“We’ve got to prove Stan Twitt wrong!” Ren was determined. “Ooh baby, victory is ours!”

False led the team in joining gruelling practice sessions. While False had a fun time with Ren, Fwhip, and Katherine, there was nothing like practicing with close friends she had known for two years. Conservation just flowed ten times easier. False laughed so much she wouldn’t be surprised if she grew abs. 

The night before the 5th Championship, they ended their practice early so they could watch the sunset together. And underneath the twilight sky, their faces tired yet happy, they put their hands together and cheered.

“Let’s go, hermits!”

We can’t stand still because we’re not done

It’s easy to say it’s all futile and give up 

but now, I want to fight it

I want to have a blast with you!

False had no idea where Cub and Iskall were. There was still half an hour before the 5th Championship started, and the hermits had already set up an elaborate cheering squad. First of all was a gigantic green flashing sign that said “HERMIT SUPREMACY!!”. Grian had used some of the money from his job to buy everybody a gong, leading them to nickname their team as the “Gong Guardians”. While everybody else had flags and pom-poms, the hermits had that and electronic signs and confetti. They clearly stood out, and False could feel the main campus students getting pissed off and jealous. 

False could see Ren sitting in the pool outside the arena all by himself. Seeing that he looked lonely, she made her way towards him to cheer him up. She sat down next to him on the pink floatie, which made squeaky sounds.

“Hi, Falsie. Iskall and Cub just abandoned us,” Ren said in a scandalous tone. 

False laughed, and patted Ren’s shoulder. “There, there.”

They sat on the pink floatie for a while, then made their way to the stairs below the giant countdown timer. They took a few pictures, met up with Iskall and Cub, and even saw Fwhip, who was on a different team this time. 

“Get out!” Iskall jokingly told him as he nudged Fwhip away.

“You’re so mean, dude,” Ren laughed. “He’s still our old teammate.”

“Aww come on, I just wanted to say hi,” Fwhip whined. “I’m unsubbing. Unstan the hermits.”

“Stop bullying Fwhip!” False scolded Iskall. “The Championship’s starting in two minutes. We need to think of our strategy.”

Iskall sighed. “Not gonna lie, I’m so nervous now. I’m scared I won’t know anything despite the tips you gave me.”

“Deep breath, Iskall,” Cub told him. “Relax, and have fun. It’s the most important thing.”

“Yes,” Ren chimed in. “And winning, of course.”

“True. The most important thing is winning,” Iskall repeated. 

“Yeah, yeah.” False had to join in. 

Cub shrugged. “Alright! It’s pretty simple then. Just go pro, and win.”

“If only it was that simple.”

Survival Games was the first game played, and with experience from last time, the hermits did decently. They got fourth, even with two hermit newcomers. But the real challenge was the next game, which was one nobody had played before— Sands of Time.

Sands of Time was one of the few games with a custom arena that would be changed every time. It was set in a maze with traps and coins for players to collect. Vaults and the corresponding keys to open them were scattered throughout the maze. In the center of the maze was a timer, and time could be added by tossing pouches of sand at it. If time ran out, the entire team would be locked inside the maze and would not gain any points. They could “bank” their coins, but a small fee would be taken.

In the end, the hermits were locked in, with Ren managing to only bank sixty coins for them, which with the coin multiplier gave them ninety points, allowing them to keep their 4th place.

Iskall and Cub were honestly great additions to the hermit team. After the final game was played, Iskall got 17th, which was the highest individual placement any hermit had gotten so far. Iskall, despite being a newcomer, made it to the top half of the participants. And as a team they placed sixth, which was a rank higher than last time. 

“We’re improving, dudes!” Ren whooped. “Slowing inching up the leaderboard!”

“Ohhh yeah! We’re the cream of the crop, boys.” Cub looked proud despite the bruises on his face.

“Yeahh! Let’s have a pizza dinner to celebrate our 6th place!” False suggested. She shifted her weight to the leg that had been injured, and winced. “My treat.”

Iskall chuckled. “We should use Grian’s wallet. He’s so freaking rich right now.”

“Nah, he just bought gongs for all the hermits. Let’s not use more of his money.”

The four hermits cheerfully chatted as they made their way to the audience stands to find their friends. No doubt they were ecstatic even if they didn’t get into the top two teams. The hermits were supportive like that.

But when they got there, they couldn’t hear any sound at all. Concerned, they rushed forward, only to find their hermit friends standing next to a damaged neon sign, several main campus students next to them.

“It’s cute how much effort you put in this.” One the main campus students kicked the neon sign. “Too bad the hermits will never come top half as a team.”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” Bdubs screamed, a mad glint in his eyes. He suddenly ripped off his shirt, revealing a belt of knives. “I’LL KILL YOU!”

“Bdubs!” Cleo chastised, sounding cross. “Don’t stab people! Use potions instead, it’s easier to clean up—“

“Bdoubleo, a Mindcracker fallen from grace,” the bully sneered. He raised a hand—

Only to be stopped by a metal arm. “Ohoho,” Doc ominously cackled, voice deep and rumbling. “You don’t want to mess with us Mindcrackers, kid.”

“Okay Bdubs! Don’t get yourself in danger!” Scar wrapped his arms around Bdubs’ chest. “Let’s go home and properly plan a murder—“

“You’re annoying. Shut up.”

Scar was flung across the area and slammed into the railing. Cub screamed and sprinted towards Scar. Iskall and Ren stepped in front of Scar protectively, while False took out bandages from her bag just in case. 

“Did you break anything? Are you bleeding?” Cub demanded, tenderly helping Scar up. 

“I-I’mma fine,” Scar choked out, but everyone could see the trickle of blood from his forehead. Cub turned pale. False passed Cub the bandages and readied her fists despite every cell of her body protesting in exhaustion.

“That was unacceptable. Get on your knees and apologise,” Iskall commanded, his usual jovial composition completely vanished.

“What makes you think you can order us around? You’re nothing to us, Mr. Seventeenth Place.”

The bullies attacked again, but they were stopped by a yell. “Causing trouble again?”

Fruitberries strode in, hands stuck in his pockets. His stance was seemingly casual, but False could see that his muscles were tense. Fruit was ready to fight.

“How many times have I told you not to bully people?” Fruit said calmly. “But apparently words can’t make their way through your thick skulls.”

“You only speak one language, and it’s a crude, barbaric, uncivilised one— violence,” Ren growled. Trust him to use fancy words to defend his friends. 

Fruit nodded at Ren, acknowledging him. “And it’s a language I speak rather well.”

It took Fruit just three seconds to annihilate all of the bullies with swift kicks and punches. They didn’t even have a chance to retaliate. Fruit was simply too fast, and he was too calm. He had no battle cries, no dramatic moves. He was a silent killer. All of the hermits gaped. After Fruit swiftly dispatched everyone, he nonchalantly stuffed his hands back in his pockets like nothing had happened.

“You’ll pay for this!” One of them screamed, rolling around the floor in pain. 

“Ohh, will I?” Fruit replied smugly. “The school turned a blind eye when you hurt the hermits last time. Surely they won’t care if a Green God steps slightly out of line. Privilege is real. Now scram.”

“Get outta here!” Bdubs started crying out. “Get outta here!!” All hermits instantly joined in booing, raising their fists.

The bullies stumbled to their feet, prides wounded. But before they could escape from the hermits’ warth, a compacted ball of something sailed through the air and erupted, dousing the bullies with obnoxiously pink glitter.

“AHA! Try to wash that out!” Stress declared. “Now everyone will know what you’ve done! Bye, losers!”

The hermits quickly tended to Scar’s wounds and thought of what to say to Grian once he returned from his important business phone call (“he would be pissed that he missed seeing Fruit”). Iskall congratulated Stress on her glitter bomb. Doc, Bdubs, and Cleo were eagerly discussing what was the best way to murder someone. And Cub never left Scar’s side.

Only two hermits thought of thanking Fruit.

But yet again, when Ren and False turned around, Fruit had already slipped away.

Chapter Text

We can’t stand still because we’re not done

We start off whispering about overthrowing the status quo

but soon enough we’ll feel like crying out, “ARGH!”

“Let’s try again,” Ren told False the instant Scott announced the 6th Championship. “You in?”

“Did you even have to ask?” was False’s curt reply.

Their wounds from the 5th Championship had barely started to heal, but the hermits were ready to thrust themselves in the world of PvP again. 

Still, they didn’t neglect their artistic hobbies and their studies (which they were all fantastic at, by the way).

“When Stanley approached the end of the video, he clicked the subscribe button,” False said out loud, recording her usual outro. She switched off her mic and picked up her things.

“Hi! Watcha doing?”

False nodded at Ren. “I just finished recording an episode, now I need to go home and edit it.”

“Sweet! See you tomorrow!”

Ren waved at False until she went out of sight. With a sigh, he looked at the tiny ugly cobblestone main campus in the distance, which looked tinier than ever now that their classroom was exponentially growing in size. 

Ren knew out of all the hermits in the Championship, he was probably the least skilled in PvP. He even called himself the “weak link” in the 5th Championship, but his friends were quick to reassure him they would not play without him. Thanks to Scott and support from his friends, his insecurity had lessened, but he still wanted to improve himself so as not to drag the team down.

That was why he made his way down to the main campus alone to practice. Ren felt like he needed the extra practice. And he didn’t want to use anybody’s precious free time. He was fine by himself.

The main campus was a little intimidating without his friends, but Ren put on earphones, started blasting Britney Spears, numbed his nervousness, and worked away. Britney had always managed to hype him up 

“My loneliness is killing me,” Ren sang to himself as he punched sandbags. “I must confess, I still believe!” Pain erupted from his knuckles, but he knew the pain was necessary. He punctuated each beat with a punch. “When I’m not with you I lose my mind… give me a sign! Hit me baby one more time!”

“Nice voice!”

“Huh?” A surprised Ren hastily took out his earphones. “Oh. Umm. Thanks,” he muttered, a little embarrassed.

Ren watched as H sauntered away like giving compliments was an everyday thing for him (which it probably was). H probably knew he was in 3-H, right? So why was he nice to the hermits? According to False, H didn’t laugh at her or anything when he found out she was a hermit. Huh.

Ren also saw Herman Blur talking to another new teacher Cherry Twitt. They seemed to be getting along fine for some reason. Cherry Twitt may share a surname with Stan Twitt, but those two were totally different.

Thirty minutes of hard work later, Ren decided he needed a break. A thirsty Ren grabbed his water bottle and went to the water fountain to fill it up. A familiar flash of green came into Ren’s view, and he blinked. It was the elusive Fruitberries. Ren was intimidated, but he wasn’t going to let Fruit run away again. He put on a confident facade, stepped forward, and said,

“Hi.”

Fruit looked at him, mildly surprised that someone was talking to him. “Hi,” he said after a brief pause.

“So, uhh, I don’t know if you know me, but as a hermit, I really want to thank you for standing up for us,” Ren said sincerely. “Like you defended Jevin in the 1st Championship, and you also beat up those guys who destroyed our neon sign in the 5th Championship.”

“Oh.” Fruit looked embarrassed. “No need to thank me, I was just doing what I was supposed to do. And I didn’t know it was the hermits who were being bullied last time— I just thought those students were causing trouble again. I saw that your friend was hurt. Sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

Ren stared at him. “Ah.” So Fruit stood up for the hermits without even knowing they were hermits? So he wasn’t doing it just to get on the hermits’ good side? He was doing it because he was...nice?

“Why are you nice to us?” Ren couldn’t help but ask.

“I dunno, I won’t say I’m being nice, I’m just…” Fruit waved his hands, “like I said, doing what I should do. But if you’re asking, I don’t believe in Stan Twitt’s system. The hermits have done nothing wrong. By the way, you were in the Championship, yeah? I always see you with the Banana Girl.”

Ren chuckled. “Yeah, I’m Ren. And she’s False.”

Fruit nodded. “I see, I see. Good luck for the Championships! I’m going to join the next one, and it’ll be pretty cool to see more hermits there. Upsetting Stan Twitt is fun.”

They exchanged a few more niceties, then Ren, who was internally panicking from speaking to the Fruitberries, experienced a brain fart and forgot Fruit’s name. “Bye, Fruityloops,” he blurted out, and parted ways with him.

“Fruityloops,” Fruit repeated to himself once Ren was out of earshot. He laughed, charmed by Ren. “No one’s ever called me that before.”

“Grian, will you join the 6th Championship?”

“Uhh?” Grian looked up at Cub. “Probably not, I’m busy, and—“

“HEY G!” Ren yelled, running into the classroom. “FRUITYLOOPS TOLD ME HE’S JOINING!”

Grian broke a table. “FRUITY B?!” he screeched. “Sign me up! I’m totally joining! I don’t care about my schedule! Woohoo!”

“Gee! Thanks!” Cub looked amused yet annoyed. 

“Do you think I can be in the same team as him?” Grian asked, eyes glittering. He bounced over to Scott. “Mr. Major!” He sang cheerfully. “Can you put me and Fruity B together?”

Scott smiled gently at Grian. “I’m really sorry, but Fruit has already submitted a team with the 3-A and 3-B people.”

Grian instantly deflated, and he looked like an abandoned puppy on the side of the road. “Oh. Oh well,” he sniffed. “At least I can see him in the Championship, right? Do you think I can ask for his autograph?”

“Fruity is notoriously hard to catch, though,” Ren laughed. “He’s always running away for some reason.”

Cub returned for the 6th Championship with False and Ren. They were joined by Ryguyrocky, who was a nice main campus student from 3-C. Grian was in another team with Dang, Shubble, and Pearl. Iskall was originally supposed to go with him, but he suddenly had something to do, so Grian invited Pearl.

Grian excitedly showed his hermit friends the cyan ribbon either Scott or Dang had tied around his head. “It’s so weird teaming up with Dang,” Grian said. “I-I literally can’t tell them apart. I don’t even know who gave me this ribbon.”

Cub was still extremely pissed off by the bullies who had hurt Scar and his hermits last Championship, so he wanted to perform well in this Championship. Their team had trained really hard for the Championship, and Cub had spent nights analyzing the footage of their past Championships. He also spent a few days working on something with Doc. Cub patted his pocket. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it today.

“Both Dream and George are here,” Cub noted. “And of course Techno. The clout, man.”

“Clout Resistance!” Ren cried out. “Stan Twitt is so biased towards them.”

“Everyone’s thinking Techno or Dream’s team is gonna win,” False pointed out. “That’s what Professor Reddit is saying, after having collected opinions from students.”

“Ahhh yes, Professor Micheal C Reddit,” Cub sighed. “Everybody’s biased. I hope we get to upset MCC Reddit one day.”

“Upsetting Reddit and Stan Twitt is my dream,” False told them. “I’m sure we’ll get there one day!”

Grian was a little nervous that he wasn’t with the hermits, but he had friends whom he’d known for a long time. Pearl, Dang and Shubble were also extremely nice and welcoming, and they didn’t mind that Grian was a hermit. The four of them spent a few minutes furiously ranting about Stan Twitt, and had a good laugh in the end.

“Ohh, Survival Games is the second minigame!” Dang exclaimed. “This is going to be a tiring one since we gotta walk around the school.”

“So I’ve heard from the hermits.” Grian nodded towards the Yellow Yaks which were a few paces from them. “Our strategy is to run away, right?”

“Yeah, and go for stragglers and do some cleaning up,” Shubble told him. She rubbed her hands together. “Alright team! We got this!”

Shubble’s optimism was infections, and Grian couldn’t help but smile. Next to him, Pearl sat there quietly. Grian felt kinda bad— after all, he was the one who invited her last-minute when Iskall couldn’t make it. 

“Having fun so far?”

Pearl looked up and smiled. “Yeah… I see why people like the Championships. And it’s great that you’re here, too.”

Grian scratched his head. “Sorry for inviting you so suddenly,” he said sheepishly.

“Ohh, it’s alright! I’ve been eyeing the Championships for a while, to be honest. And this is sorta like a Evo reunion, am I right?”

Grian chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s kind of a Hermitcraft and Legacy crossover now. Especially since I know Fwhip joined False and Ren last last time.” He pumped his fist in the air. “3-GH Solidarity!”

“3-GH Solidarity!” Pearl echoed with a grin. “You know, a few days ago, us 3-G kids stood up for the crafters’ community. Some 3-AB kids were making fun of us and the hermits for being “bad at PvP”, so naturally all of us fired back. You should’ve seen Skizz go crazy defending Impulse! Zloy and Pixlriffs even taped video evidence of them bullying us and are probably going to roast them online. We even started fighting back as a class and we outnumbered them!” Pearl chuckled at the memory.

“Geez! I wish could’ve joined in. I feel bad that you defended us, but we weren’t there to defend you.” A thought struck Grian. “Wait, you fought back? Did you guys get into trouble?”

“Now that’s the most interesting part!” Pearl exclaimed. “I think we were supposed to, but some kid talked to the teachers and we didn’t get anything. Not even a warning. No one knows who they are; we just saw they had green hair. Maybe it’s one of the Green Gods?”

Grian’s eyes lit up. “Fruitberries? I know he beat up bullies before, so it won’t surprise me.”

“Oh really?” Pearl chuckled. “Maybe it is him. Either way, we’re grateful.” 

“The countdown is starting!” Dang called out, and Grian and Pearl stood up. Led by the staff, Grian’s team walked to their “spawn point”. Everyone had a designated spot to start out, and everyone usually ran away from each other once the game started. 

“Good luck!” Grian whispered to the Yellow Yaks when he walked past them. Cub waved at him, while Ren gave him a thumbs up. Grian smiled in return. They were hermits, and hermits supported each other no matter what. 

“Grian, how do you feel about PvP?”

Grian turned to look at Shubble. “Uh, I’m not good at it, but I don’t think I’m… terrible?” He laughed nervously. “I’ll do my best though. Hope I won’t let you down.”

Pearl lightly whacked Grian’s shoulder. “Nah, you won’t! Now release all of your pent up anger!”

Grian gaped at her. “My what—”

“The main campus students have been mistreating you,” Pearl said. “Now you have a chance to avenge your friends who were hurt by them!”

“Nahh. I mean, I’m mad, but I don’t think I can avenge anyone.”

As the Cyan Creepers prepared themselves for Survival Games, Pearl murmured to Shubble, “Grian will pop off. I’ve seen him go feral before, and he’ll definitely go feral at this game.”

Shubble beamed, delighted by the idea. “Looking forward to it!”

Grian’s team was doing pretty well in Survival Games. Grian let out a little whoop every time the Commentator announced Fruitberries had eliminated someone, which attracted looks from his teammates. “Sorry,” Grian mumbled. “I’m a huge Fruity B fan.”

Shubble sighed. “We know, we know.”

“Yeah, he’s the hermits’ patron saint, innit?” Dang said. “I heard that from my uncle.”

Grian winced. It was always awkward whenever Dang and Scott brought up each other. Dang’s uncle was his homeroom, and yet they looked exactly the same. That was probably the scariest part of the Championships. “Yeah,” he croaked. “Mr. Major knows.”

“Cubfan135 was slain by GeorgeNotFound!” the Commentator declared, and Grian jumped. “Ouch. Cub’s eliminated by some guy.”

A pause, then Dang chuckled. “Yeah, ‘some guy’ who’s an important member of the student council.”

“Whatever. I cannot believe Fruity B isn’t on the student council. He’s smart, he’s good at sports, and he’s nice. The bias is real. I hate Stan Twitt.”

“Grian, focus. Save your complaining when we’re done with this game.”

Around forty seconds later, Grian heard the Commentator cry out, “Renthedog was slain by Dream!” quickly followed by “FalseSymmetry was slain by Dream!” Grian winced. “Ouch ouch ouch. Falsie, our PvP queen, got wrecked by the-green-guy-who-isn’t-Fruitberries.”

Shubble laughed. “Do you have anything against Dream? I understand if you do.”

“It started with False,” Grian told her. “Dream doesn’t exist in her brain and she keeps on seeing Dream as Fruit. Suddenly our entire class has decided Fruity B is the only Green God who matters.”

“Aww, sad Pete,” Dang began. “You know, he actually really admires the herm—”

“GRIAN!”

False, Cub, and Ren. Their chest plates were dimmed, meaning their virtual health was all gone. Cub was helping False and Ren walk to the sidelines. False was massaging her head, while Ren’s knee was scratched and bleeding. All three looked exhausted.

Grian ignored that the hermits were technically his opponents, and bounded over to his friends. “How are you guys? Did not-Fruit hurt you really badly?”

“We’re fine—” Ren began, but Cub cut him off. “Dream’s too good at PvP. He kept on hitting us even after we lost all our health. He knocked False down and now her head’s spinning.”

“Yikes.” Grian glanced at False, who was Hermitcraft’s best warrior. Cub was practically dragging her along and her eyelids were fluttering. Grian’s heart ached. It didn’t feel right to see the fearless False this way. It didn’t feel right to see any of his friends hurt. 

“We’ll be fine,” False muttered, but she didn’t look fine at all. “Dream likes to target me for some reason. Stay safe, and best of luck to you.”

As the hermits walked away, something stirred inside of Grian. It wasn’t red hot anger, and it wasn’t despair, but it was certainly something unpleasant. He glanced down at his hands, which were calloused from hours of building and crafting. But those were just minor compared to the scars his friends received from the main campus. Grian slowly waggled his fingers as if he’d just learned to use them. 

Skin was fragile. It could be so easily cut. Back in 3-H, he’d seen the bandage on Ren’s face and the bruises on False’s legs. That was how they showed up, battered yet happy on the Monday after the 4th Championship. Again and again, the hermits willingly thrust themselves into a world that would hurt them. Hurt by people stronger and bigger than them, hurt by fists, swords, axes—

Grian swallowed. He did not feel good at all.

“Grian? Earth to Grian!”

Grian blinked. Pearl was snapping her fingers in front of his eyes, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Sorry about that. Spaced out for a bit.”

Grian recognized the look in Pearl’s teal eyes. She wanted to talk to him, but not now because Dang and Shubble were there. As his old friend, she knew stuff about him that he hadn’t told any of the hermits yet. It was a… sensitive situation.

For a few minutes after that, Grian felt… peculiar. Like he was lost in his thoughts, but his body was moving on autopilot. He responded to his teammates quickly and was alert to any changes like normal. But it was like his mind was elsewhere. 

Then he glimpsed a shade of green that was certainly not Fruitberries.

And Grian moved.

He could tell his teammates were with him due to the sound of their footsteps thumping next to him. Something surged inside him, and he felt an irrational urge to stop his teammates. This is my kill, he promised himself. His friends were yelling something, but it sounded like white noise to Grian. 

He raised his blunted axe—

And it landed squarely on the chestplate of not-Fruit. The bars of light that indicated his health decreased. Inexplicable strength coursed through Grian’s viens. He felt like he was on fire. 

People were still screaming, but it was okay, Grian knew it wasn’t screams of pain. It wasn't the screams of his hermit friends.

He raised his axe again—

Thump.

And again—

Thump.

The lights on not-Fruit’s suit disappeared, and a voice boomed in Grian’s ear: “Dream was slain by Grian!”

…

Ah.

Dream.

So that was his name.

“YOU KILLED DREAM!!” “You’re insane!” “You got one of the best PvPers!”

His teammates whooped and shouted in joy. Grian was still in a daze, axe in hand, glaring at the green blob/guy/whatever at his feet. Oh. So this was one of the top students of their school. 

No. 

This was some person who hurt his friends. 

“Grine got me!” Dream hissed into his intercom, stumbling to his feet. He dropped his loot on the ground, and without a single word, Grian started to rummage through Dream’s loot. 

“Anyone have any arrows?” Grian asked casually, like he just hadn’t eliminated one of the Green Gods. 

Dream, Dang, Shubble, and Pearl all gaped at him. Grian shrugged. “What?”

“You killed Dream!” Shubble squealed. “Y-you know how big that is?!”

Grian legitimately had no fucks to give. “Whatever. Do you have arrows? We gotta move on.”

“You’re a hermit.”

Grian did not even look at Dream. “And you’re the Green God who isn’t Pete or our patron saint Fruity B,” he stated coolly. “But yeah, I’m a Hermitcrafter and I’m proud of it.”

Dream laughed. “A hermit killed me. Interesting. Not even my classmates can get me. How did you do it?”

Grian finally turned towards Dream, and chuckled. He raised his axe. 

“You hurt my friends? You die.”

The Yellow Yaks tried their best, but they got ninth in the end. Which was a huge drop from their 6th place in the previous championship. (Grian’s team got seventh. Cub wondered how they did that.)

“Why did we have to end with Foot Race?” Ren moaned, lying on the floor. “Why couldn’t we end with the Spleefage?”

False panted, her body trembling. Dream’s blows from Survival Games caused her to feel dizzy, and she was still feeling the effects two hours later. Next to her, Cub wobbled on his feet and would’ve toppled down if False hadn’t grabbed his arm. Running around and leaping on platforms in the Foot Race was almost too much for him.

“Thanks, Falsie.” Cub could barely speak, his face as red as a tomato from the exertion.

“Have some water.” The non-hermit teammate, Ry, looked concerned. 

“Ry, I’m sorry,” False wheezed. “We dragged you down. You got top 5 in Foot Race and you got 16th overall— and our team got ninth. We’re bad at this. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, don’t sweat it! You guys did great!” Ry sat down next to them. 

“I got 34th…” Ren muttered, still on the ground. “Wow. Geez.”

“Owww.” Cub flinched and curled into a ball. Ry and False instantly bolted up. “I’m cramping,” Cub hissed. “It hurts.”

“Okay, okay.” False and Ry helped Cub to stretch, while Ren continued to lie, too exhausted to even move. 

“Hey, uh, guys?”

Grian came into view, his team behind him. They look tired, but nowhere near as defeated as the Yaks were. Grian winced. “That Foot Race was harsh.”

“Grian, what’s your individual placement?”

“24th! Which isn’t bad at all.”

“Yeah, that’s great for a newcomer,” Ren gasped. He tried to stand up, but instantly fell down again. Grian grabbed his arms and pulled him up. “Thanks, dude.” Ren’s voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible. 

The Yaks were battered and exhausted by the Championship. With Grian’s team helping them, they dragged their bodies to the Dodgebolt arena. It was Orange versus Blue. Pete, H, Jimmy, and Martyn versus Blue which False only knew as Fruit’s team. 

“We’ve got to support Orange,” False muttered, leaning against a wall. “We know these guys. Even if Fruit is on the opposite side.”

Grian held a starkly different view. “Ohh, I’ve got to support the team that’s not Timmy. And Fruity B is in Blue!! GO BLUE! GO FRUITY B!”

“Here we go again,” Ren and Cub groaned. 

As the Yellow Yaks shouted for Orange, Grian enthusiastically cheered for Blue. It was a quick-paced Dodgebolt, with Pete and Puffy shooting each other at virtually the same time. Blue and orange paint splattered across the arena.

Even from the audience stands, everyone could hear H scream “I HATE FRUITBERRIES!” Grian gasped, highly offended, while False just enjoyed how two of the Green Gods (Pete and Fruit) were in the finals. (“Dream who?”) Nobody predicted Orange and Blue to score the highest, and having the underdogs win was thoroughly satisfying. Upsetting Stan Twitt and MCC Reddit was, in False’s humble opinion, one of the best things ever.

Grian was the only hermit with enough energy to jump and whoop for the teams. False, Cub, and Ren sat on the benches to catch their breath. 

“Man, I really want to get in Dodgebolt,” Ren said. “But I can’t even escape from the bottom quarter of the participants.”

“We’ll get there, we’ll get there,” Cub told him. 

False laughed. “Yeah, this is just to prepare everyone for the comeback of the century.”

In the end, Fundy clutched and Blue won. Grian screamed the house down, delighted for Fruit. H was raging. “I hate Fruitberries so much,” he seethed. “I’ve never hated another person so much in my life!”

Dang was cackling. “Fruit snatched the 5th individual placement from under his nose! HBomb’s mad.”

But it was visible H didn’t really hate Fruit. Everybody knew those two shared a friendly rivalry and were good friends. Yet, maybe it was just False’s imagination, but Fruit flinched a little when H loudly declared his “hate” for Fruit. 

As Stan Twitt handed the trophy to the Blue team, Grian announced that he would try to find Fruit for an autograph. Pearl followed him, while Dang and Shubble walked around, admiring the rainbow decorations Noxcrew put in to celebrate Pride Month. Ry said goodbye to the hermits and went to find his friends. 

“We should probably get going,” Cub said. 

False wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, we stink really badly. Are we all good to go?”

All three of them were drained of energy. Games such as Parkour Warrior and Battle Box tested their endurance, and Foot Race was the final straw. Holding each other, they stumbled out of the Championship arena.

“We’re going to the next one, aren’t we?” 

“Yeah! As tiring as it is, it’s fun.”

“Yeah, fun.”

Cub froze upon hearing the unfamiliar voice behind them. The hermits spun to see a pack of presumably 3-B students glaring at them. Cub’s hands instinctively moved to his pocket. Cub didn’t know their names, probably because they were just extras who acted as the obstacles to the hermits in their shounen anime. 

“Don’t you know how hard we’ve been trying to get into the Championship?!” Bully A seethed. 

“We asked Scott for months. How come four hermits get to join, but we don’t? Your homeroom is totally biased,” Bully B said. 

“And you’re wasting the spots,” Bully C sneered. “C’mon, at least give us a show. At least find some hermits who are actually somewhat decent at PvP. But no, you guys even suck at Build Mart. Don’t you call yourselves builders? Aww, how sad.”

The hermits tried to walk away, but their paths were blocked. “Let us go,” Ren demanded.

“Listen to me!” Bully D yelled. Cub flinched at his loud voice and took a step back, but felt a warm hand around his arm. Ren. Ren, his old friend from the Kingdomcraft days. Cub shakily inhaled. 

Bully E strode towards them. “Never join the Championships again,” they uttered in a low voice. “Save the spots for people who deserve it.”

Ren squared his shoulders. Out of the three of them, Ren was definitely the boldest. “Oh? Or else?”

A fist crashed into Ren’s face. “Then perish!” Bully A hollered.

Ren, surprisingly, was still able to stand. He was probably running on nothing but adrenaline. “We just want to win,” he spat out, rubbing his face. “We’re 3-H students. Can’t we want to go back to the main campus—”

The bullies laughed, then pounced towards Cub and his friends. And Cub had enough. 

He took out his taser.

Again, again, and again.

First Mumbo’s camera, then Jevin, then the neon sign, and now they were told not to join the Championship.

And False was tired.

Tired of having stereotypes imposed on them, tired of the constant slandering, tired of the awful school and its awful principal.

But most of all, she was tired of her friends being hurt.

Cub’s taser was working surprisingly well, but he was vastly outnumbered. With a battle cry, Ren launched at one of the bullies, desperate to help Cub. 

False knew this was a fight they were not going to win. First, it was a 3v5. Second, they were just crafters, and these bullies had trained for their entire lives. Third, all three of them were utterly exhausted by the Championship. False could barely stand straight. 

This was when brains would be more important than brawn since they were going to lose anyway. 

False took out her phone and planned to call Scott. She frantically scrolled through her contacts and—

“ARGH!” 

Cub was tossed to the side, the taser falling out of his hand. A bully reached for it, but Ren dived in front of Cub with no hesitation, using his body to guard the taser. 

Something slammed into her skull, and False’s vision blurred. She instinctively stomped on someone’s foot and felt her phone slip out of her grip.

A punch in the stomach and she was sent flying. False slammed against the wall with a sickening crunch. She desperately tried to regain balance, but her body was exhausted and her knees were shaking. She helplessly slid down the wall.

False wanted to protect Cub and Ren, but she couldn’t even protect herself. Fists rained down on her and she feebly raised her hands to stop them.

“It’s unfair,” somebody yelled. “You can’t even fight. Why can you be in the Championship so many times when I’m still on the waiting list?!”

“Unfair? UNFAIR?!I” False spat out. “Bold of you to say that! We’re in 3-H—”

Someone kicked her stomach, and she gasped.

False choked out savagely, “I don’t care about you. I’ll join the next Championship. And the one after that.” False wiped the blood off her cheek. This was the most damage she had gotten from a school fight, but she sure as hell wasn’t giving in. She fumbled for her phone on the ground, but her vision blurred.

Ah— False’s body was failing her. She’d pushed herself to the limits, and now she would pay for her overexertion. 

But she wouldn’t stop. Because she. Wasn’t. Done. 

And she would try again. And again. And again—

She saw her own blood smeared on her phone screen. She blindly found a contact and pressed “call”—

Then abruptly, her vision went black.

Cub felt like collapsing.

His taser was effective and that was how he managed to incapacitate the five bullies. That was probably the only way the hermits could win the fight. The bullies all laid on the floor, groaning.

But Cub didn’t care about that now. He only cared about—

“Cub,” Ren whispered helplessly. “She’s not waking up.”

Cub spun to see an unconscious False sprawled on the ground, Ren next to her. Both were bleeding, but False’s condition looked worse. Cub felt like someone had gouged his heart out.

False had always done her best to protect them. And now he had failed her.

“Oh my goodness!” a familiar yet unfamiliar voice wailed. Familiar in the sense Cub knew the voice, unfamiliar in the sense that Cub had never heard him use that tone.

A panting Grian stood in front of them, his face as pale as a sheet. His eyes were wide, and he didn’t just look terrified, he looked traumatized. Behind him was Pearl, with a comforting hand on Grian’s shoulder. And suddenly Cub had a feeling this was not the first time Grian saw something like that. And suddenly Cub irrationally wished Grian had never come. 

“I— False was calling me,” Grian blubbed, on the verge of tears. “And I could hear screams and— oh my goodness. I need to stop rambling.” He fished out a roll of bandages from his bag, but his hands were shaking so much, he dropped it. He covered his face, tears slipping between his fingers. “I-I’m sorry—” he croaked. “I’m so useless.”

Pearl’s eyes darted between Grian and the other hermits. She was about to say something when hurried footsteps interrupted them. More help was coming.

Four main campus students arrived at the scene. First were Jimmy and Martyn, whom Cub assumed had followed Grian here. Behind them was HBomb, and finally, a Green God. All of them were sickened and horrified, but there was one who also looked, to Cub’s surprise, guilty.

Petezahhutt.

Chapter Text

I've tried to make you listen

But you won't, it's your way, right?

Did walking to the infirmary really take that long?

Ren had broken his ankle, so Pete was supporting him. Cub could walk, thank you very much, but he appreciated Grian’s warm hand on his back. Grian’s lips were pursed into a thin line as he stared straight ahead. He looked terribly affected by the incident, and Cub wasn’t going to ask why.

Jimmy, Martyn and Pearl were silent, but Cub could tell Grian was visibly more comfortable around them. Despite panicking, Grian still took the time to comfort Cub and tend to his wounds.

False was unfortunately still unconscious, and H had to carry her. Cub was initially extremely reluctant for that to happen as he did not trust any of the 3-A students (he trusted the 3-G crafters more), but H was the only one strong enough. Besides, Ren had given him a look that screamed “trust me”. Cub didn't know why Ren was vouching for H (like yeah, H said Ren had a nice singing voice but did that mean anything?), but it wasn’t like they had a choice anyway. So Cub kept a careful eye on H. 

Somebody’s phone started ringing. It was H’s. As he was using both of his hands to carry False, he couldn’t reply to it. Pete slipped a hand into H’s pocket and rejected the call. “Thanks, Pete.” H flashed Pete a quick grateful smile. 

“So, uh, Cub.”

Cub shot Pete a look. Yes, Pete was helping them, and Cub had supported Pete’s team in Dodgebolt, but Cub still didn’t fully trust Pete. And how did Pete know his name again? Cub didn’t think Pete would bother to remember the hermits’ names.

“You’ve got to destroy your taser because the school will use it as evidence you hurt someone.”

Cub shrugged. “Good thing I made a self destruct mechanism.” He pressed a red button on the taser, tossed it in the air, and watched as it exploded, leaving nothing but ash. It was fine. Cub could easily make more tasers if he wanted to. He had the money, resources, and knowledge. 

“Okay, that’s cool. The main campus teachers will probably try to get you expelled even though you fought back for self defence, but I’m going to bail you guys out, okay?”

“You can do that?” Ren asked, disbelieving.

Pete sighed, but there was a determined glint in his eye. “I’ve done it before, and I can do it again,” he said simply.

“Wait!” Pearl called out. When Pete looked at her, she bit her lip, clearly nervous. “Uh, Pete, were you the one that got 3-G out of trouble a few days ago? We saw someone with green hair, but wasn’t sure who it was.”

“That was me,” Pete acknowledged with a nod. “So yeah, Ren, I can do that.”

“Like how Fruityloops didn’t get into trouble for beating up the bullies last time,” Ren muttered. “Using privilege for good, huh.”

The group sank into silence once again, and Cub recalled the events of the day. The 6th Championship was… well, they got 9th. So they didn’t do well. And they were totally exhausted. After the Championship ended, the five bullies found them, and Cub used his taser. False was knocked out but managed to call Grian. Grian came with Pearl, and suddenly everyone was there. 

Cub did not really know Jimmy and Martyn, but Grian knew them, so Cub trusted them to help him stop his bleeding. He was suspicious of H and Pete though, and he made sure they knew through the glares he shot them. Back then, he had scooted closer to False and Ren as to “protect” them from H and Pete. 

“I don’t need your pity,” Cub had stated coolly.

“It’s alright, Cub,” Ren had whispered to him. “They’re good people.”

Ren trusted the 3-A students, and Grian’s friends trusted them, and Cub trusted the hermits, so he relented and let H pick up False.

“I’m sorry,” Pete abruptly said. Cub glanced at him. “I’m sorry I can’t stop the bullying. I’m one of the ‘Green Gods’. Out of all people, I should have the power. And I…” Pete swallowed, and looked at the ground. His voice became very small. “I couldn’t even stand up for the people whom I looked up to.”

Ren and Cub shared glances. The Green God, the consistent top 5 Championship player Pete himself looked up to the hermits? What timeline were they living in?!

“I’m sorry too,” H sighed. “I- I never did anything useful…”

The 3-A students looked tired and sweaty, and Cub recalled that they were all in Dodgebolt just now and had lost. They probably just wanted to go home and take a shower, but they willingly helped the hermits without a second thought. And to Cub, that kinda showed they were sincere, and not doing it because “they would look good”.  

“I’m sorry too,” Cub confessed. “I… judged you guys based on stereotypes. I didn’t accept your help because I thought you were just like the other main campus students. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You’re valid,” H told him. “It’s natural to be suspicious of us. Especially considering how some of my classmates treated you.”

The group of crafters and 3-A students walked in silence, all of them too drained to say anything. Cub snuck a look at False, hoping she would wake up on the way.

She did not. 

Killing kids all day and night

Prescription pills and on-line fights

Shooting at the angels while claiming you're the good guy

“...”

A sliver of light. Eggshell white walls. 

“...”

An unfamiliar bed. Pain throbbing from her head. Everything hurt.

“False? Can you hear me?”

Upon hearing her friends, False feebly parted her lips. “Cub? Ren? Are you guys okay?”

A warm chuckle. “We’re fine. You should worry about yourself first.”

False slowly raised a hand. It had been bandaged. “Ahhh… how long was I out?” she mumbled.

“Around thirty minutes. Not sure. I was really stressed,” Cub admitted.

“We’re safe now. Grian, Pearl, and the Orange Ocelots came to save us,” Ren told her.

False’s head was spinning. “What? Who?”

“Martyn, Jimmy, HBomb, and Pete. H carried you here.”

“Oh.” False rubbed her arms self-consciously. “They saved us from the bullies?”

“Cub took care of the bullies with his taser,” Ren said proudly. “They just helped us when we were too exhausted to move.”

“Cub, that’s so cool!” False sighed and pushed herself into a sitting position. “Well, that was awful.” False would apologize for being knocked out early and being a “dead weight”, but that would just anger her friends and she didn’t want them to waste their energy arguing with her.

Cherry Twitt asked her how she was feeling and taught her how to take care of her wounds. Next to Cherry was Herman Blur, who was nervously twisting his fingers. Scott and the rest of the hermits (yes, all of them were there) were anxiously waiting outside, and practically poured in the room when Cherry allowed them to. False was a little overwhelmed by the love and care, but she appreciated them nonetheless. Wels talked about suing them, while Doc and Bdubs were once again discussing murder, and Mumbo was genuinely crying. Even Ryguyrocky stopped by to check up on the hermits and apologized for not being there. But when the crowd dispersed, False noticed that one hermit was missing.

She tugged on Cub’s sleeve. “Where’s Grian? Did he get hurt too?”

False watched as Cub and Ren exchanged glances. “He’s somewhere with his 3-G friends,” was what Cub replied with. “He’s safe though. Just needs a moment.”

False exhaled. “Ookay.”

“False, you have two more visitors,” Cherry announced. “I think it’s the people who brought you here.”

“Ahh, I see. I want to thank them.”

Pete and H entered, Pete looking slightly apprehensive. Pete’s green hair was a disheveled mess. False noticed Cub subtly shifted closer to her.

“Glad to see you awake.” H nodded at False with a friendly grin. “And I finally know your name, Banana Girl.”

“Haha, yeah.” False returned the smile. “Thanks for taking me here, HBomb.”

“No problemo. Also just call me H. Too much effort to call me HBomb.”

“Hi,” Pete said. “It’s nice to finally talk to you all despite the circumstances. Hope you’ll feel better soon! Anyways, we’re here to propose adding a school rule, and we would like your input.”

“The hermits have been mistreated by this school for years, and I’ve always wanted to stop them. The school, I mean.” Pete took a deep breath. “But all I’ve been managing to do is to stop the bullied students from facing unfair consequences. I didn’t stop the bullies. I didn’t prevent the pain that was unjustly dealt to you. The school has always been lenient to those with good PvP skills and they can get away with just about everything. Fruit and I used that power against bullies, but we can’t keep on doing that. So, we’re going to make Stan Twitt agree to a new rule: bullying 3-H students is not allowed, and doing so might result in being ‘cancelled’ and expelled.”

“That sounds… great,” Ren confessed. “But how the heck are you going to make Stan Twitt agree to that?”

“Through the Student Council.” It was H’s turn to speak. “Stan Twitt has influence over the council, but they also have influence over Stan. If the council asks for a new rule to be added, and do some ‘UwU OwO white boy things’, Stan will likely agree.”

(False felt extremely unnerved by hearing H say “UwU” and “OwO”. It was the first time False thought of H negatively.)

Cub scoffed. “Yeah, the council. Like they’ll stand up for the hermits.”

“We have a chance,” H said optimistically. “Like, I know Fruit will agree with us. We have two Green Gods on our side. They can force the other Green God to agree.”

“We may be skilled at PvP, but we don’t have enough clout,” Pete pointed out. “Neither Fruit nor I are in the council despite being labelled as a ‘Green God’. Despite that, I know we have influence.”

“Yup, yup. We can ask Fruit to convince Dream since Dream respects Fruit. And,” H stroked his chin, “I know some members of the council actually secretly like the hermits. Wilbur loves Grian. I think Tommy and Tubbo do as well. Techno is a Grian simp as well. They’ve just been afraid of Stan Twitt. Not to mention Fundy has asked Iskall for help before. That’s a good portion of the student council.”

False looked surprised. So did Ren and Cub. “Iskall did that? He never said that?”

“That’s right. Fundy asked him to keep quiet. Iskall agreed, on one condition.”

“An I.O.U,” Cub muttered. H’s eyebrows raised.

“Exactly. How did you know— nevermind. Must be a Hermitcraft thing.”

(False noticed H called them Hermitcraft, not the usual “H as in Hermit” that had been imposed on them.)

“So,” Pete coughed. “That’s our battle plan. I’ll write up something and give it to the hermits to make sure you are all okay with the proposed rule.”

“I’m all for it, I’m just worried whether it’ll work out,” False said.

“It will work out,” Pete told her firmly. “I never thought of doing anything like this before because I thought we wouldn’t get enough support. But I noticed people were cheering for Grian in today’s Championship, and that gave us hope.”

“Ahh, I see. Thanks for helping us!”

Pete sighed. “It’s long overdue though. I hope that’ll stop the violence.”

False noticed how H and Pete’s shoulders slumped. “Ah, yeah, your team was in the finals. Thanks for helping us despite being tired.”

H waved a hand. “Don’t sweat it. Pete, you ready to give the proposal to the hermits waiting outside?”

Pete suddenly looked intimidated. “Uhh, can you do it?” he hissed.

H stared at Pete. “But it’s your idea— wait.” A mischievous smirk snuck on H’s face. “Are you scared of the hermits?”

“Well, I— ” Pete spluttered, “they’re my inspiration! My heroes! And it’s only now that I’m helping them. I feel ashamed— ”

False cleared her throat. “And yet, three of them are in front of you. It’s okay, Pete.”

A slight blush rose on Pete’s cheeks. “Thanks,” he muttered.

“If you’re really that scared, I’ll go with you.”

All eyes turned to Cub. Judging by how Ren dramatically raised his eyebrows in surprise, Cub was acting uncharacteristically. Did Pete and Cub get into an argument? False had no clue.

“Oh.” Pete somehow looked like a deer caught in headlights. “That’s nice of you, Cub.”

Cub stood up. “Ren, stay with her, okay? False, don’t move around. You need to heal.”

As Cub, Pete, and H walked out of the room, False could see Cub grin at Pete. Pete looked a little surprised, but smiled back. False wrinkled her nose, and turned to Ren.

“What happened between them?”

“Cub was mega sus of Pete and H when they found us since they’re main campus students,” Ren explained. “But they gained Cub’s trust in the end.”

“I see. Cub’s always been cautious.”

“Yeah, but I guess Pete and H proved themselves.”

A little while later, the quartet of Jimmy, Martyn, Pearl, and Grian stopped by. Grian’s eyes were red and he looked unusually subdued, which genuinely frightened False. Grian was usually so mischievous and joyful. He looked more affected than False did, and False was the one who was knocked out. 

“Sorry I couldn’t visit you earlier,” Grian mumbled, while Martyn rubbed his back. Ren and Jimmy shared looks. “I was… I needed some time to calm down.”

“Never apologise, G. You must be really scared.”

“... So I think you guys deserve an explanation. Years ago, I…” Grian sighed and stared at his feet. Despite that, he seemed determined to go on. “I lost someone close to me,” he choked out. “And the situation just now reminded me of that and… I froze. I was trapped in my past.”

Grian exhaled. “I-I really wanted to help you but I couldn’t… I could only stand there… but I’m glad others came to save you. Just want to let you know I… really really care about you guys. Even though I couldn’t,” Grian laughed weakly, “couldn’t do anything…”

Grian sounded so broken and exhausted. It was clear that he hadn’t shown this side of himself to the hermits before, and now the situation had forced him to be vulnerable when he wasn’t ready. 

“... I understand.”

False placed her bandaged hand on top of Grian’s trembling one. He glanced up, surprised.

“I was knocked out early and I couldn’t protect myself, let alone my friends. But of course that doesn’t mean I don’t care. We were both physically unable to do certain things, but our intentions are what matters the most. What we can’t do doesn’t define us.”

“... Thanks for saying that,” Grian sniffed. He vaguely gestured at his friends from Evo. “These guys said the same thing, but it means more hearing it from you… ‘cause you were the ones who were hurt…”

Ren stood up and hugged Grian. “It’s alright, G,” he whispered. “We know how much you love us.”

“A-anyways!” Grian rubbed his palms together, a bit of his usual energy trickling back into his voice. “Enough about my pity party. Those bullies were terrible! Are you going to file a complaint?”

“Cub and I did, but it’s not like the school’s going to care,” Ren replied. “Although Pete and H are trying to get everyone’s consent to propose a new rule to protect us.”

Grian blinked. “Cool. I know they saved you guys, but I still don’t know who they are.”

“H is one of Fruit’s friends. Pete is the other Green God who isn’t Fruit.”

(The hermits knew they had to relate the main campus kids to Fruit since he was probably the only 3-A person Grian knew other than the famous Technoblade.) 

“So, uhh…” Jimmy cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him. “We 3-G students all know the hermits are mistreated, but we didn’t think it would be this serious to the point of being knocked unconscious.”

“I hate how Cub had to use a taser to defend us,” Ren muttered with clenched fists. “Those main campus peeps are getting angrier and angrier. Maybe it’s because the hermits still dare to defy the school even if we fail again and again.”

“And Dream got me in Survival Games.” False rubbed her forehead. “I haven’t been feeling well since then.”

“Ohhh, Grian killed Dream for you,” Pearl told False. “He was possessed by bloodlust!”

“Yeah, yeah, that was really cool!”

Grian finally managed to smile. “Hehe. No one hurts my friends.”

“I think we have to be more vocal about our opinions now,” Pearl suddenly spoke up. “Nothing’s going to change if we just stay silent and lick our wounds.”

“Definitely. That’s why we’re going to join every Championship to send them a message.”

Grian quietly chuckled. “And remember, it’s all about the Principal. It’s Stan’s fault that this school is this way.”

“We stand with the hermits. You know what, I’m free next month. Shall we team up?” Pearl asked.

Grian’s ears perked up. “Ohh, I’m down! You guys in?”

False laughed. “Did you even have to ask?”

“Let’s go, baby!” Ren declared. “But I mean, is Cub going to join? It’s not right to ditch him.”

“He’s only joining every other Championship,” False reminded him. “So I think the four of us here can form a team.”

“A pity we can’t have more than four in a team,” Martyn butted in. “I mean, we’re crafters, not PvPers! Will it hurt to have six of us on one team? Come on, the PvPers deserve a handicap.”

Martyn’s jokes made them all laugh, and the tension slipped away. A ping from Martyn’s phone distracted them.

“Ahh, Pete’s calling us,” Martyn announced. “He also wanted Grian to see the school rule he proposed. Apparently he and H have a whole document typed up now.”

“Alright, catch you guys later. Stay safe!”

After the Evo quartet left, False admitted, “To be honest, I don’t know much about Pete, but he seems sincere. Good that two of the Green Gods support us. Maybe that’s the universe’s way of making up for being beat up by Dream.”

Ren exhaled. “Yeah. Yikes. But we’ll get Dream back.”

A beat, then False replied. She didn’t know if they could do it now with their current skills, but she was certain it would happen one day. 

“Yeah, definitely.”

An hour earlier, Fruit had won his first Championship. And it was the first one he had participated in. Not to mention he even squeezed himself into the top 5.

Fruitberries, the youngest of the Green Gods, now had a 100% win rate. They were the underdogs, him and his Blue Bats, but they even managed to beat Pete and H’s team.

Everybody was screaming for his team. Everybody was screaming for the Fruitberries. Fruit beamed, delighted. 

It had all been worth it. All the waiting, standing on the sidelines, observing the others. It had all paid off. People had wondered why the third Green God lurked in the shadows, unlike Pete and Dream, but he was just waiting for his chance to strike. And he somehow managed to exceed the already high expectations imposed on him.

People had long underestimated him despite him being a Green God. Fruit couldn’t blame them. Pete and Dream were indeed legendary, and Fruit didn’t join the first five Championships. Ever since he came to this school, Fruit was known as the “green guy who isn’t Dream”, Techno and Dream’s “sensei”, and a lone wolf who didn’t have a lot of friends. Now he could finally make a name for himself.

H had been fighting with him to get into top 5 for the whole Championship. It was funny to hear H declare Fruit as his “rival” and scream “I HATE FRUITBERRIES!” because that was actually how their friendship started.

Back in 2-A, when they didn’t know each other, they were randomly paired up for a sparring session. Fruit bet him every time (hey, Fruit wasn’t going to go easy on him), which made H mad (jokingly). It didn’t help that Fruit narrowly scored higher than H on their next test, causing H to dramatically announce his supposed rivalry with Fruit. 

Except Fruit didn’t see H as a rival. H was just some fun guy to spar with. But everyone thought they were somehow enemies, which Fruit didn’t mind that much. After all, he didn’t care about what everyone else thought. (But he was irritated by people thinking he was a Dream wannabe. And he was a little sad seeing other students of similar skill level getting more recognition than he did.)

Then the most bizarre thing happened. Fruit was eating lunch on his own while texting Illumina. Nothing out of the blue. But HBomb, the guy who “hated” him, plopped down next to him without a warning. 

Fruit could see eyes watching them. It was no surprise, H had many friends. Fruit wouldn’t be surprised if the entire school was friends with H. (Curiously enough, Fruit was H’s only “rival”.)

“Hi.” H had practically bellowed at him.

“Hi,” Fruit had idly replied, absolutely unbothered. 

“You’re insane,” H said.

“Okay.”

Fruit had no idea what was going on. He had no idea why H was talking to him when H should be having lunch with his many friends. And man, he really sucked at interacting with people.

H then started to ramble about Fruit’s latest achievements in speedrunning and parkour and PvP. Fruit felt like he was being complimented in the most aggressive way possible. Fruit was mystified by H. 

“Thank you,” Fruit said when H finished his ten minute long spiel on his latest parkour attempt. “But… why are you doing this?”

H huffed. “Because people don’t appreciate you well enough!! And if no one’s gonna do it, I’m gonna do it.”

“I thought you like, saw me as a rival.”

H snorted and laughed. “Exactly. You’re a lot more than what you think you are.”

… Fruit was in a state of delighted confusion. Despite being “rivals”, he never thought of H negatively, and nobody had complimented Fruit like that before. Fruit never asked for clout, and was typically fine with being where he was (which was standing in the shadows of the two other Green Gods). And suddenly this HBomb guy was screeching about how Fruit was the best and how he was super skilled and holy shit did Fruit feel appreciated.

And that was how their friendship started. With H aggressively praising his supposed rival because no one else bothered to. H noticed Fruit and saw him as a “threat” the moment they met. H told him he felt annoyed that people were “sleeping on” Fruit and they were “underestimating” his so-called rival. 

So naturally, Fruit grew attached to H. (It was hard not to.)

Fruit never asked for praise or recognition but H just threw that at him, yelling “you deserve it, king!”. H was one of Fruit’s first friends in the school, and one of Fruit’s favourites too.

So Fruit felt totally fine when H started hanging out with Dream’s ever-expanding circle of friends.

He felt totally fine when H screamed that he hated him when Fruit won Dodgebolt.

Fruit felt totally fine. He really did. He had his own little fanclub, and his teacher Cherry Twitt was unconditionally supportive of him, and hey, he had his friends now! He had his Blue Bats! He had Fundy, Puffy and Bitzel!

Fruit and his team cheered and raised their victory coins to the sky. In the distance, Fruit could see the defeated Orange Ocelots huddled in a group, probably comforting each other.

“Fruitberries! Fruitberries!”

People were chanting his name, excited for the birth of a new “S tier”. Fruit was a little embarrassed, and then—

“FRUITY B!”

Fruit jumped. Now where had he heard that familiar nickname? Fruit swore it was one of his fans, but when he spun around, he could only see masses of students jumping and waving their arms. Fruit had no idea who just screamed.

Somebody’s phone rang, which could barely be heard over the din. In the distance, Fruit thought he saw two Cyan team members run away from the crowd. Trailing behind them were what appeared to be two Orange team members. 

However Fruit was quickly distracted by Cherry Twitt, who hugged him and screamed the house down. Cherry had always believed in him. More of his classmates were swarming him, congratulating him and his team. Fruit was caught up in the glorious joy and excitement of it all. He was so excited he almost forgot someone hadn’t congratulated him yet.

Where was HBomb?

Fruit’s eyes scanned the area, but H was nowhere to be found. In fact, the entire Orange Ocelots team was gone. Fruit frowned. Were they really that sad about losing that they couldn’t even say “GG” to the Blue Bats? It didn’t seem like them at all. Fruit didn’t know much about the other two, but Pete and H were gracious losers. Wouldn’t H be proud of him? He would, right? He had to be. 

… Fruit wished he could hear H yell “YOU STOLE MY FIFTH PLACE, FRUITBERRIES!!” or something like that. Or just anything, really. 

… It wouldn’t hurt to call him, right?

Fruit’s fingers moved automatically, and pressed that familiar “call” button. He waited. And waited. He held the phone to his ear, hearing the steady “beep, beep”. 

Then abrupt silence.

Fruit stared at his screen. “Call declined,” it read. 

Oh.

Oh.

… Well. H had never hung up on him before. Maybe he was just busy. Maybe he was sad about being defeated by Fruit. Fruit didn’t know, he didn’t know anything about H.

...

“Hey guys! Let’s have dinner together to celebrate our win!”

…

Did it matter anyway?

…

“Sure! I know a really good pizza place!”

…

No. It didn’t.

...

“I’m in! Fruit, you free tonight?”

It didn’t matter. Fruit was fine. Totally.

“Fruit? Yo?”

He’d just won, for God’s sake. He was happy. He was content. He just was.

“Earth to Fruit!”

Fruit blinked. “Oh yeah, sorry, spaced out. ‘Course I’m in! Gotta need a shower first.”

His teammates laughed. “Oh don’t worry, we all do.” “Yeah, that was super fun, but now I’m all sweaty.”

Fruit managed to smile. And with his teammates’ arms around him, he felt okay.

HBomb called him at 7pm. Fruit didn’t know until 8. He had just finished dinner with the Blue Bats. H had also texted him when Fruit didn’t pick up.

HBomb :]: fruitttyyy 

HBomb :]: you free? lets meet at the park 

Fruit: oh yeah im free now

Fruit: sorry was having dinner

Fruit: 9pm?

HBomb :]: sure 

Fruit arrived at the park at 8:45pm. H came at 8:50pm and he immediately swept Fruit into a tight hug. “I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!” he boomed. “Congrats, Fruit!” Fruit laughed. H always managed to cheer him up. “You did great as well, H! That was one hell of a fight you put up.”

They spent the next twenty minutes recalling the events of the 6th Championship. H waved his hands animatedly to illustrate Fruitberries’ moves in Dodgebolt, occasionally pausing just to scream “YOU’RE INSANE” and jokingly slap Fruit’s shoulder. Fruit also complimented H popping off in Hole in the Wall. In the end, it resulted in them nudging each other and trying to convince the other was better.

“You’ll join the next Championship, right?” H asked Fruit. “Since you had so much fun with this one.”

“Definitely! And you’re joining every Championship, yeah?”

“That’s the plan!”

Even though it was nighttime, the summer heat clung onto them, plus they had gotten worked up discussing the Championship. So H brought ice cream for him and Fruit. They just sat in silence for a while, tired by the day’s events.

“Hey, Fruit? I’m sorry for hanging up on you earlier. I had… something important to do.”

Talking with H made Fruit forget H did that. “Oh, it’s okay.”

“Speaking of that, I need a favour.”

Fruit raised an eyebrow. While H could be cheeky and self-proclaimed “immature” at times, H knew when to be serious. “Spill,” Fruit demanded.

H sighed deeply and moodily stared at his melting ice cream. “The hermits in the Championship were bullied again today. One of them was even unconscious for thirty minutes.”

Fruit froze. It felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped over his heart. He thought of the nice Banana Girl at practice, and the funny guy who called him “Fruityloops”. “Ren and False? All four of the participating hermits? Are they okay?”

“It’s just False, Ren, and Cub. I think they’re doing alright now. Don’t tell anyone, but one of them had a taser and that was literally the only way they could’ve won the fight against five bullies.”

Fruit shivered despite the summer heat. “A taser? I would say that’s badass, but it’s just… sad they have to use that. And a 5 versus 3 is straight up inhumane.”

“Agreed. I think False called Grian for help, and then Martyn and Jimmy went after Grian, so Pete and I followed.” H exhaled. “That was why I couldn’t answer your call; I was busy helping them.”

Suddenly Fruit felt very foolish and selfish. Of course H wouldn’t ignore him for no good reason. “It’s all good. Yikes. I’m glad someone found the hermits.”

H took out his phone from his pocket. “Anyways, Pete and I drafted a new rule to guarantee the safety of the hermits. You know how the school turns a blind eye to the 3-A students? Well now, we want to make sure they face the full consequences.” He passed his phone to Fruit and let him read the document, and continued. “We’re planning to convince the members of the student council to agree to this rule, and then have the council convince Stan Twitt.”

“Seems solid. And I agree, the Hermitcrafters deserve protection. But what part do I play in this?”

“Pete’s thinking that you can convince Techno to agree,” H said. “And then you two can try to convince Dream using the power of Green Gods. I’ll ask Fundy and Wilbur, and Wilbur will probably ask his roleplay siblings Tommy and Tubbo. I don’t know if we can get George and Sapnap, but if Techno and Dream agree, that should be enough.”

Fruit licked his ice cream. “Okay, that sounds decent. I’ll do whatever I can to support this. I’ll text Techno tonight.”

“Oh, by the way, you know the hermits?” H eyed him curiously. “Like, you know their names. We’ve been calling False Banana Girl for months now.”

“Ren talked to me at practice,” Fruit replied with a shrug. “They’re cool people. Hey, you know what he called me? Fruityloops.”

H chuckled. “Aww, that’s cute!”

Fruit also laughed, sharing H’s energy. “Yeah, I know right!”

“I think I’m gonna steal that, Fruitylooooops,” H drawled. “I think Ren really likes nicknames. Like, he called me “Bomb”. And he calls False “Falsie” and Grian “G”.”

“He sounds like a fun guy to be around.”

“He is!” H’s laughter died down, presumably because he remembered the horrible situation the hermits were in. “We’ve got to do something about Stan Twitt’s system,” he vowed, tone grave again. 

“You’re right. But,” Fruit glanced at H, “we’re part of the system too. In fact, this system serves us, the 3-A PvPers. Can we really overthrow the system?”

H met Fruit’s serious face with an equally serious gaze. 

“That’s not a question. We have to dethrone Stan Twitt.”

Complicated, overrated

You're fixated and elated

By the separation

In this place that you've created

Fuck all of your rules and guidelines

You shouldn't even be on the sidelines

Two weeks after the 6th Championship, Stan Twitt announced the change. By that time, Dream had obtained a new nickname in addition to “not-Fruit”—  which was “not-Pete”. Pete had also joined Fruit and become the hermits’ second patron saint. The hermits were immensely proud of their two Green Gods and adored them. Dream naturally faded into the background, and was known as “some guy Grian killed when Grian went on a rampage”.

“Blah blah blah you can’t bully other people blah blah blah,” Stan Twitt drawled on the stage during a whole school assembly. Stan had spent the last twenty minutes rambling about how cool the “manhunts” were and how “massive” Dream was (correction, it was how massive Dream’s brain was). “If you do, you might be cancelled blah blah blah. So don’t be violent or sth.”

“Stan said “sth” out loud,” Cub groaned. “I can’t take this anymore.”

“This new rule was proposed by our UwU student council led by UwU Technoblade-chan.” Stan Twitt then stopped to screech, “I’M A TECHNO SIMP even if he’s a loser all the time. Okay I’ll move on.”

“What do you mean Techno proposed that?” False hissed furiously. “Pete and H did. Oh my goodness. Don’t these two have any significance at all?”

“Resist the Clout,” Ren piped in ominously. “Unfortunately, Stan only cares about the student council.”

“This rule applies to everyone, from my UwU white male faves to the h-her-” Stan coughed. “To the… to Grine and his friends. I don’t remember who they are.”

Scar groaned out loud, and turned to his friends. “Guys, tell Stan Twitt. One, two-”

“WE’RE HERMITCRAFT!” all of the hermits yelled in unison, shocking the entire school. 

“APPRECIATE MY FRIENDS OR DIE!” Grian shouted. Everybody turned to him, and Grian just shrugged, uncaring. 

“Ok boomers,” Stan Twitt sniffled. “By the way, you can sign up for the 7th Championship now! Best of luck to SBI and nobody else! UwU! Assembly’s over, byeee sisters!”

“Thank goodness. My ears were bleeding,” Grian muttered. Behind him, Tango, Impulse, and Zedaph had mercifully managed to tune out Stan Twitt’s speech by coming up with hilariously accurate roasts for Stan Twitt. Mumbo had straight up decided to skip the assembly like how he skipped Sahara meetings. Bdubs had fallen asleep. Etho had designed a whole interior during the assembly. False was eating bananas. It was obvious none of the hermits cared about Stan Twitt. They made a beeline for the exit of the hall, desperate to escape from this ugly cobblestone hell. 

“Hey, Grian!”

Grian turned to see Pearl place a sheet of paper in his hands. “I had already quickly filled in the sign up form, so help me pass this to Mr. Major, will you?” Pearl called out. 

“No problem!”

“Hey, Pearl,” Ren greeted her. “Looking forward to teaming with you in the 7th Championship! 3-GH solidarity!”

“Likewise. Ohh, the main campus is not ready for us.”

False smirked. “We won’t get ninth next time, mark my words,” she promised.

And so the four of them stepped out of the cobblestone hall and into the sunlight. With the new rule in place, it was a new era for the hermits, and they were determined to prove themselves to the school.

Chapter Text

This is an anthem for the homesick 

for the beaten

The lost, the broke, the defeated

It was time for the 7th Championship. The hermit team, which consisted of Grian, False, Ren and Pearl, were all a bit more busy now, considering they were all entering competitions and building up their portfolios. So they decided to chill for a bit and focus less on practicing. Last time, the hermits tried too hard and they pushed themselves to the limits. False sighed and rubbed her arms subconsciously. Getting 9th place was a bit of a downer, and she hoped they wouldn’t get it again—

“Hi. What’s up?”

False jolted at the sudden greeting. She turned to Ren, who was next to her. “Not a lot?” she replied, and they both laughed. “Totally haven’t just gotten here or anything,” she quipped. 

False wandered away for a little while, exploring the arena while waiting for the event to start. She found Ren sitting on his favourite pink pool floatie with Grian next to him, evidently chatting. She went over to them, and once she was in earshot—

“Falsie and I and Cub have come 6th, 7th, and 8th,” Ren informed Grian, and False blinked, shocked by her name being mentioned. She laughed at herself, a little embarrassed, and sat down on the floatie next to Ren. “So we just wanna come fifth,” Ren added.

“Wait. In that order?” Grian asked. There was an aqua ribbon on his head, fitting for their team.

Ren shifted, making squeaky sounds on the floatie. “The order was 7th, 6th, 8th.”

“No, we got 9th last time!” False butted in. Ren mockingly glared at her. “Oh shh! I’m trying to forget.”

“Arguably, you’re getting slightly worse,” Grian pointed out the obvious, and False winced.

“Yeah, we’re on a downward trend at the moment,” Ren admitted with a sheepish smile.

False nudged Ren in the ribs. “Ohh, that’s so we can have a big comeback,” she casually stated like it was a fact.

Grian nodded. “Yeah, yeah! The comeback of the century! By the way, where is PearlescentMoon?”

“I’m right here!”

Pearl hurried over, beige hair flying behind her. She had an aqua armband, and False looked at her own clothes, starting to feel a little out of place that she wasn’t wearing anything aqua. Well, at least she wasn’t wearing Ren’s outfit.

“Pearl, welcome to Team Hermitcraft!” Ren clapped Pearl on the back. “We’re delighted to have you.”

“Thank you! 3-GH Solidarity!” Pearl grinned at them. 

“Dang it! You guys have aqua stuff! You got the aqua bandana, you got the headband going.” Ren gestured at Pearl and Grian, then huffed. “I’m feeling left out here, man!”

Grian fixed the aqua ribbon on his head. “This was very last minute, I admit.”

“Wait. Why are you red?” Pearl pointedly stared at Ren, and wrinkled her nose. Grian and False followed Pearl’s gaze. Ren was wearing his bright red and white wrestling suit. “Are you on a different team, Ren?”

“You really don’t look like you’re part of our team,” Grian joined in the mocking with a giggle. 

“We’ll just pretend that it’s aqua, okay? My heart is aqua, dudes!” Ren protested, crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively. 

The Championship seemed to be running a little late today, but the Aqua Axolotls were patient since they knew how much effort Noxcrew and Scott put in. Speaking of Scott, apparently Dang was the one who gave Grian the cyan headband last time, and Grian just… dyed it aqua. False resisted the urge to facepalm. 

“Oops. I’m busted,” Grian giggled as Dang gave him the stink-eye. 

“I’m hurt, but not surprised!” Dang exclaimed dramatically. He retreated to his team with his head hung low while putting on his best sad look.

“Aww, poor guy,” Ren said sympathetically. “I wonder if Mr. Major will be mad at you, G.”

“I don’t feel that bad,” Grian admitted with a laugh. “Come on! It’s just a dyed headband!”

And that was how the 7th Championship started. It was a fairly standard Championship for them, which meant they were brutally knocked out at Skyblocke and got 9th for like every game. Battle Box was chosen as the third game, which gave the team an opportunity to interact with the other participants. Their team was doing pretty good until their suits started malfunctioning and the damage taken wasn’t calculated properly. There were a lot more technical problems, which was a first. Professor Noxite and his team looked frantic as they ran around reassuring players. Stan Twitt was raging, and probably about to “cancel” Noxcrew for no reason, but Herman Blur silently knocked Stan out when no one was noticing. 

While the participants waited for a solution, the Axolotls carefully worked on their strategies again. Ren tried being the “mean coach” and said Grian “sucked”, but failed miserably. Ren literally could not be mean towards anybody. 

In the end, Battle Box was reset, which was immensely disappointing, especially because the hermits and Pearl were actually doing well in a PvP game for once. But they kept their chin up high, because complaining wasn’t going to do them any good.

Their first opponent were the Orange Piglets, which was not only a full 3-A team, it also had three student council members— Technoblade (who was the PvP god in the hermits’ eyes), Wilbur (who apparently had an emo phase when he looked like Grian), and Philza Minecraft (no one was sure if that was his real last name, but they just rolled with it). And although Seapeekay wasn’t a member of the student council, he was still a famous 3-A student. 

False glanced at the opposing side and found a guy with curly brown hair— Wilbur— staring at them. More accurately, he was staring at Grian. False vaguely recalled what Pete and H had said, something about Wilbur liking Grian. Then Wilbur turned and his eyes met with False’s, and he started to frantically wave. Interesting. This Wilbur guy seemed to know who False was. Perhaps a fan of the hermits? False knew they had quite a lot of admirers, but she didn’t think 3-A students would admit that openly. That was because they feared being judged and condemned. 

If it was a random 3-A student, False would’ve been scared. But she had heard about Wilbur before, and H said Wilbur was nice, and False trusted H. Plus Wilbur was probably one of the student council members who convinced Stan Twitt to implement the new rule. Wilbur actually looked excited and not in the bloodthirsty way. If False was honest, it was even a little endearing. It somehow reminded False of Grian’s reaction to Fruitberries. And False didn’t want to upset a fan, even if they were from 3-A.

Wilbur waved again, and False laughed, entertained. “Nuh nuh nuh!” She shook her head at Wilbur. Wilbur paused for a second, read her expression, then continued waving, movement even more vigorous than before. False responded by shaking her head even faster. A beep! disrupted their silent communication, signifying the round was beginning. False returned to her team and Wilbur did the same, but False swore she saw Wilbur hide a smile.

As expected, the Orange team swiftly eliminated Aqua, with Technoblade slaining Pearl and Ren. Wilbur even shot False, and False huffed. Of course Wilbur was just acting friendly to let her guard down. But why did Wilbur look slightly guilty? 

False thought trusting H would get her into trouble, but it didn’t, and she ended up trusting Pete and Fruit as well. Were those 3-A students really as mean-spirited and horrible as she thought? Or did she just happen to meet three nice people?

“Wow,” Ren panted. “We survived for like literally ten seconds.”

“Sixteen seconds to be exact,” False grimly muttered as she helped Ren up. “They’re fearsome.”

Grian was anxiously glancing between Technoblade and Pearl. “You guys okay? Techno’s scary.” False recognized the hint of terror in Grian’s expression— it was a shadow of what he looked like when the hermits got beat up last time. No doubt Grian was scared of a repeat of the incident even with the new school rule that protected the hermits. 

“Don’t worry, Grian, I’m alright.” Pearl smiled reassuringly at him. “Techno stopped attacking once our virtual health is gone.”

There was an awkward silence between the two teams. False wondered if she and the hermits should thank Technoblade for the new school rule— Stan Twitt did say Techno “led” the council in establishing it, whatever that meant. So maybe he did help the hermits. That being said, she had never talked to Techno. He was just too intimidating, and False trusted exactly three 3-A students (which were HBomb and the two Green Gods. What do you mean there was another Green God? Sorry, the hermits didn’t give a shit.) And of course there was Wilbur, who had literally… waved at her. For seemingly no reason.

Seapeekay and Philza were discussing something, while Wilbur and Techno stood in the middle of the field. Wilbur muttered something to Techno, Techno cleared his throat, and the entire Aqua team stared at him.

“Hope I didn’t hit you guys too hard,” Techno said in his signature deep voice. He looked genuinely concerned, and False didn’t like it. She didn’t like how she was starting to view the popular kids in a positive way. 

Ren was the first to reply. “We’re fine,” he replied with a polite smile. 

Techno then nudged Wilbur, who was looking increasingly nervous. “That’s… great!” Wilbur mumbled. 

False raised a sassy eyebrow. “Oh? You just killed me,” she said nonchalantly.

Wilbur stared at False, not sure what to reply, probably wondering if she was genuinely offended. He actually looked scared, which was funny, because the hermits should be scared of him, not the other way round. 

“Oh, just kidding.” False shrugged. She felt a bit bad for making fun of Wilbur. “Battle Box eliminations don’t mean anything. After all, it’s either kill or be killed.” (False seriously could not believe she was bantering with a 3-A student she barely knew.)

A ghost of a smile graced Wilbur’s face. “Oh, haha. Yeah. And by the way, umm, Grian?”

Grian shifted closer to his friends, suspicious of Wilbur. “Yeah?” He replied with a hesitant tone.

Wilbur’s eyes shone. “I love your content!” He burst out. “Your designs are really cool, really pog, and I think you’re super funny and charismatic, and—“

The Axolotls shared surprised glances as Wilbur rambled on shyly. Technoblade looked amused, while the two other Orange team members ignored the hermits completely.

Grian was confused but also flattered. “Uhh, thank you?” He offered in a high-pitched voice. 

“Wilbur’s actually the council member who was the most vocal about the new school rule,” Technoblade informed them. Wilbur instantly flushed. 

“When Stan didn’t agree, Wilbur wrote a whole diss track and played it in Stan’s office until he agreed,” Technoblade continued. His eyes darted to the Axolotls. “I know Stan said I’m the one who started the campaign, but I didn’t do much actually,” he confessed.

“Shut up. You dueled Dream to force him to agree, didn’t you?” Wilbur commented. “You trained with Fruit and everything. We saw.”

The Axolotls gaped at Wilbur and Technoblade, surprised that two of the most popular students in Stan Twitt’s school would do that for the hermits. But before they could say a word, a shrill bell rang, telling everyone that the current round of Battle Box had ended and the teams needed to move on. 

“Well, geez, thank you!” Ren replied good-naturedly. False shot him a sharp look. 

“Don’t forget I love you, Grian!” Technoblade cried out.

“Yeah!” Wilbur cheered, waving his arms. “I love you too, Grian!”

“Boys, boys, move on.” Philza flung his arms around Techno and Wilbur and ushered them away. Wilbur grinned at the hermits, and False thought of returning the smile, but by the time she made up her mind, Wilbur had already turned away.

“Oh wow. That was… eventful,” Pearl whispered once the Orange team was out of earshot. 

“Yeah.” False had no idea what to say. “They actually like us. Even though they serve Stan Twitt’s system. Huh.”

“That’s really cool!” Ren was grinning from ear to ear. “The Technoblade and the WilburSoot support us? That’s huge!”

“Ohh, so you trust them?” False challenged Ren. She loved Ren, but he could be a bit too nice and trusting at times. “I mean, they probably truly like us, but they only showed their admiration recently. They only did that after Pete and H and Fruit proved it was “cool” to support the hermits.”

Pearl snorted. “Yeah, False, I saw Wilbur wave at you, and you shook your head.”

“That was just to entertain him,” False insisted, but she knew the truth. She was getting fond of the 3-A students, or at least, the ones who showed the slightest bit of kindness to them. And False didn’t know if that was good or bad. (Probably bad. What if they were just faking it to make fun of them?)

“So G? How do you feel?”

Everyone turned to Grian, who was tapping his chin. Grian shrugged, acting like he wasn’t affected, but it was obvious to his friends that he was delighted.

“Well. It’s nice that Techno likes me,” Grian said. “After all, Techno is the most popular student, right? He’s the best in PvP. Like, maybe even better than Fruitberries. And I love Fruity B.”

“Actually,” Pearl piped up, “I don’t think Techno’s the most popular student anymore.”

“We don’t talk about not-Fruit in this household,” Grian stated with a sweet smile. Ren and False nodded vigorously.

“Yeah, we don’t care about not-Pete.”

“Iskall called him Nightmare once. Maybe we should use that nickname.”

“I mean, I am happy people appreciate the hermits, but…” Grian trailed off, and he bit his lip. “I’m scared. I’m scared they’ll do bad stuff to my friends and I’ll look stupid for falling for their empty words.”

The rest of the Axolotls were silent. They knew Grian was traumatised by the hermits being beat up last time. And now Grian was feeling irrationally guilty for being happy when he was complimented. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“If it’s any reassurance, I think Wilbur’s a cool person,” Pearl told Grian. “He never insulted the crafters.”

“And Techno doesn’t deal unnecessary damage,” Ren piped up. “Like, he just wants the kills. Or at least he does that to us. Maybe he’s lenient because he knows we’re bad at PvP.”

False rubbed her forehead, recalling the events of the last Championship. “Yeah, unlike some people.”

“I’ll kill not-Fruit for you if he does that again,” Grian vowed. “And I guess you guys are right. Maybe Techno and Wilbur are cool after all.”

I'll carry you home

No, you're not alone

This is worth fighting for

You know we’ve all got battle scars 

Keep marching on

It was a little sad that the Aqua Axolotls didn’t perform as well as they did before the Battle Box reset. Maybe that had really damaged their morale, but at least they had a good time. Battle Box was universally a favourite game to play despite the technical difficulties.

The Axolotls chatted with more people during Battle Box. Dang, Shubble, Martyn and Jimmy were in the lime team, and were all friends of the hermits, so they had a jolly time making fun of Grian’s dyed headband. Pete, HBomb, and Fwhip were in the green team, and the Axolotls were delighted to see Fwhip doing well.

Pearl slapped Fwhip’s back. “Dude, I hope you win! Do it for the Legacy peeps.”

“Yeah, let’s go, Fwhip!” Ren cheered. “Our teammate from our first MCC!” 

Meanwhile, False took the chance to ask Pete and H more about Technoblade, Wilbur, and the rest of the student council. H, who seemed to know everyone in the school, gleefully told them the times he saw Wilbur and Techno simp for Grian. Grian’s eyes widened as he heard the stories of them watching his videos and Wilbur copying Grian’s look in his younger and more vulnerable years. By the time H was finished, Grian was utterly convinced he liked Techno (and Wilbur).

They did see Fruitberries, but Grian was too scared to talk to him, so he just waved. Fruit waved back, and Pearl had to grab Grian to prevent him from collapsing on the ground in joy.

After Build Mart was played, it was time for the audience vote, which totally wasn’t rigged by Stan Twitt and the UwU favourites. Technoblade and Dream totally didn’t know cameras were aimed at them and totally did not command their fans to vote for the game they wanted. It was a close tie between Hole in the Wall and Rocket Spleef, and Hole in the Wall won by a small margin. However, due to technical issues, Rocket Spleef was played.

“It’s because of our protagonist armour,” False answered breezily, knowing Rocket Spleef was one of their best games. 

“THIS IS RIGGED!” a random guy screamed. “THIS IS UNFAIR! THEY RIGGED IT FOR TECHNOBLADE!”

“NOOOOO MY BABY DRÉ!” Stan screamed from the sidelines. “I’M CANCELLING NOXCREW!! wAAaaAaaAaa *insert pathetic baby crying noises* nOT my UWU MANHUNT UWU BEST BOI DREEEAAAM!!!11!”

(At that point everyone had stopped questioning why Stan Twitt could say asterisks out loud. It was just a Stan thing.)

“Hermitcraft wouldn’t be run like this!” Wilbur bellowed from the crowd in response to Noxcrew’s technical difficulties. If Wilbur could declare his love for the hermits so publically, it meant he really did like the hermits despite the fear of being bullied by Stan Twitt and his classmates. 

“Not-Fruit’s acting like he doesn’t manipulate everyone into voting for his game,” Pearl huffed. “Techno and Not-Pete control all the choices. But I mean, Hole in the Wall did win fair and square, so his baby raging is kinda acceptable?”

“I feel bad for Sylvee.” False nodded at the only female member of Dream’s team. Sylvee was surrounded by Not-Fruit, Not-Fruit’s Not-Boyfriend, and the other Dream Team guy Sapnap. The other guys were obviously very competitive and raging, and Sylvee looked a little awkward. 

“This seriously feels like our protagonist armour is showing,” Ren said brightly. “Who else would the protagonists of Minecraft Championship be if not the underdogs? It makes sense too, since False cannot remember not-Fruit, which means he’s a background character while we’re the protagonists!”

Grian patted Ren’s back. “You might be onto something, Ren.”

“Ren’s correct,” False said with a perfectly straight face. “Of course we’re the protagonists. Getting 9th last time is just laying the foundation for our eventual victory and our golden age.”

… False didn’t know if she had jinxed it, but after all games were played, her team got 9th again. For the second time in a row. 

(At least they had a fun time. Ren quipped that his muscles got in False’s way during Hole in the Wall, and he jokingly raged so much when got knocked off in the third round. And Grian’s gong was amazingly calming as always. Ren even asked Grian to record the gong sound.)

“Back to back,” False remarked wrily. “We got 9th last time too.” But her teammates were focusing on Dodgebolt, which would be between the Orange Piglets and Fwhip’s team. The Axolotls went up the stairs to the Dodgebolt arena, noticeably less tired than last time. During the 6th Championship, Ren, False and Cub literally had to be dragged there, but this time, they were smarter and conserved their energy. Ren had joked that “they were going to suck anyway”, which hich kinda hurt. (Not that she was going to tell him.)

“Let’s shout for the Green Guardians!” Ren declared. “That’s Fwhip’s team.”

False turned to her friends, and bit her lip. Moping about her loss wasn’t going to do any good. She had to move forward. “For sure,” she chimed in. 

“Let’s shout for Legacy! Let’s goo!” Ren hollered. 

Pearl nudged Ren. “I can vouch for that one!” she replied cheekily. 

“Sweet.” Ren glanced at the arena. People were already picking up different coloured banners to show their support. “Let’s get a green banner too.”

Ren, False, and Pearl darted to Green’s side of the arena to get their banners. False noticed that Grian was lagging behind, but before she could comment on it, Ren started talking again.

“I would love to play Dodgebolt one day, man.” Ren stared wistfully at the Green Guardians who were eagerly discussing their strategies. “It looks like such an amazing and fun game.”

Grian glanced at him. “In the Championship, or just normal dodgeball?”

“Uhh, both!” Ren replied cheerfully. 

Grian’s voice turned a little high pitched, which False noticed he was prone to doing so whenever he got nervous. “Uhh, fun fact about me: I have a coaching course, level one, in dodgeball.”

“Really?!” Ren looked incredulous. 

“So I’m technically qualified to coach dodgeball.” Grian’s voice sounded further away, which meant he was walking away. False was confused, but then she saw what Grian was holding. “And admittedly, I’m Orange,” Grian confessed sheepishly, orange banner in hand, “because Techno said he liked me, so I’m gonna support Techno. And it’s about time I notice someone other than Fruity B.”

“Wow,” Ren and Pearl replied in similarly disappointed tones. Pearl crossed her arms. “Grian, I’m ending our friendship,” she declared in a somber tone. 

“Ohh, I see how it is,” False drawled, glaring daggers at Grian. “So much for forming the Clout Resistance, Mother Spore.”

“I mean, none of the Green guys were like ‘Grian’s team’!” Grian protested. “Two of them saved you guys but,” he lowered his voice, “I still don’t really know them! They never said they liked me!”

Pearl wrinkled her nose, probably offended on Fwhip’s behalf. “Well, how do you know that?”

Grian shrugged. “All I know is that Techno supported me. So I’mma support him in return.”

“Wow, Grian,” False deadpanned. “What happened to 3-GH solidarity? What are you now, a Technoblade fan?” And because she was salty and couldn’t stop herself, she added, “Did you forget about Stan Twitt’s system? And how much have we crafters suffered because of the main campus people?”

(False knew Grian was the most popular hermit. He was even more popular than a good portion of the 3-A kids. Of course he would try to mingle with the Popular Squad, the Dream Simps or whatever. Who could blame him for wanting to escape from the hermits’ little corner for a while?)

Thankfully, Ren switched the topic and kept the atmosphere light and fun. “So G, next time I come visit you we can play dodgeball?”

“Yeah man! I’ve actually got some at home.”

“Ohh, I wanna see that,” False joined the conversation. “Hermitcraft dodgeball. Sounds...” she watched as Grian wandered to Orange’s side of the field, leaving his friends behind. “... fun.”

.

.

.

Meanwhile, on the Dodgebolt field, Orange Piglets were going crazy with Grian’s support. Grian shyly stood on the sidelines, while several participants gaped at him, recognizing the famous future architect Grian. 

Then a wild scream from the Orange Piglets. “Grian wants us to win, dude!’

“GRIAN, MY BOI!” Technoblade hollered, turning to Grian. It was comical to see the Blood God himself be reduced to a simping, sobbing mess. “Grian, I would NEVER disrespect you!” he screamed for the whole world to hear. “Grian, I LOVE YOU! Nobody loves Grian more than Technoblade,” he fiercely declared. The crowd erupted, and Stan Twitt started screaming.

“SIMP!” Stan screeched, pointing a stubby finger at Techno. “THEY’RE SIMPING FOR EACH OTHER! TECHNOGRIAN IS REAL!”

“Wow. Okay.” Ren deadpanned. “It’s like Hermitcraft doesn’t mean anything!”

“I’ll text Mumbo and see if he gets sad,” False muttered under her breath. One time, Grian announced he loved Mumbo (platonically), and Mumbo hid under a table for twenty minutes, too embarrassed and happy. 

Grian waved at Technoblade, orange banner fluttering in the wind. He was way calmer than Techno, but still excited. “Go on Techno!” he cheered. Despite the distance, False could hear his voice clearly. “I’m with you!”

“What a traitor,” Pearl scoffed. “Never mind the Technoblade Fan. Let’s support Fwhip.”

The three of them stood closer to the railing and shouted for the Green Guardians. Fwhip flashed them a thumbs up, and False’s heart swelled with pride. She had started her Championship journey with Fwhip, and they were both crafters, and now he could win. He could win for the crafters’, for Legacy, for 3-G. He could win and prove to Stan Twitt that the crafters were capable. But most importantly, he could upset MCC Reddit and the Techno/ SBI stans. Which was probably the best thing in the world (second only to Stress’ cookies.)

“LEGACY LET’S GOOO!” Pearl whooped. She couldn’t get close to Fwhip because he was already in the court, but they mimed a high five. 

“Pete! Hmama!” Ren exclaimed. “You got this dudes! You guys are so good at Dodgebolt that it scares me.”

H grinned. “Thanks, Ren! Wait, what did you just call me—”

“Upset Stan Twitt! Go go go!” False yelled, raising her volume to drown out the screeching fans of Technoblade and Co. 

“Ohh don’t worry, Orange’s going down.” H smirked. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Green won the first round of Dodgebolt, but it was a best of five, so they had to win two more to claim their victory. Pearl gripped the railing tightly, anxious for Fwhip. Ren started to narrate the Dodgebolt, which helped to ease the tension. 

“I really hope Fwhip wins,” Pearl sighed. “I mean, duh, because he’s my friend and we’re in Legacy, but it’ll also be such a cool moment for the crafters and the non-PvPers.”

“I know right!” False’s eyes found Grian, who was cheering for Technoblade and his team. “Grian’s gone to the dark side, though…”

“Well,” Ren popped in the conversation, “people with clout attract other people with clout. Plus supporting Orange would give him more clout and make Stan Twitt like him for a while. Maybe that’s his plan. To make people notice and like the hermits.”

False gulped. If there was one thing she knew about Grian from their months in 3-H, it was that Grian was smart. He knew how to present himself as a charismatic and likeable figure, and he knew how to amass loyal fans, winning the hearts of even the famous PvPers. Plus Grian was sneaky, and determined to have things go his way. 

… Maybe this would work out in the long run. By interacting with the popular kids, Grian could bring positive attention to Hermitcraft and help all of them. Or maybe Grian just wanted to be appreciated. 

“In his defence, we all want attention,” False said. “Especially someone like Grian, who was basically sent to 3-H for being too popular and taking attention away from the PvPers. It’s sad, but can we blame him?”

“... He won’t forget about us, right?” Ren’s voice was small. 

“He won’t, Ren,” Pearl replied with confidence. “He still keeps in touch with me and the Evo people, and I know Domrao helps him with his episodes. Grian’s a lot of things, but he loves his friends.”

Ren exhaled. “Yeah. You’re right. It’s just… I love 3-H, man. I love Hermitcraft.”

Technoblade proceeded to casually get an ace in the next round. “Wow. I can’t imagine ever doing that,” False muttered, fascinated yet intimated by Techno. 

“Funnily enough, I can see you getting an ace.” Ren poked her shoulder. 

False rolled her eyes, amused. “We’ll talk about that when we get into the top half of the teams.”

After Technoblade’s ace, Orange won one more round, but Green brought it back. The score was 2-2, and it couldn’t get any more intense. Ren was shaking False’s shoulders in his excitement. 

“Come on, Fwhip!” Pearl screamed from the sidelines. “Come on, come on!”

“This is the final round,” False whispered in awe. “This would decide everything.”

Stan Twitt was straight up bawling, screaming for Orange, probably talking about UwU boys UwU whatever. Annoyance prickled inside False. Stan Twitt was obviously biased against the Green Guardians, when both teams had worked equally as hard to get there. And if False was honest, she swore Green worked a little harder, considering Fwhip had to sacrifice the time he used for creating so he could practice with his friends. It wasn’t like the 3-A kids dedicated hours and hours to designing mansions and vineyards. 

… She really hoped Green could win. She hoped the crafter community could get a win. That would be the best option. 

Pete, the Green God, was the first to be eliminated by Technoblade. Fortunately, Fwhip took Techno out just as he did last round.

“BETTER THAN TECHNOBLADE!” Ren roared, smacking his palms together. 

Ten seconds later, Seapeekay shot Fwhip, leaving H and Eret on the field. It was a 2 versus 3, and things weren’t looking good for Green.

“This is so intense!” Ren gasped. “Now this is the power of 3-A PvPers.”

H shot Seapeekay, but then Eret was eliminated by Philza. “Dude!!” False shouted. “Oh no, HBomb’s on his own!”

It was a 1 versus 2. H versus Philza and Wilbur. H versus two of the SBI. H versus two of Stan Twitt’s favourites.

“HBOMB TAKE THE WHEEL!” Ren squealed. “C’mon, Hmama! You can do it!”

“Do it, HBomb,” False whispered, knuckles turning white from her tight grip on the railing. “Do it. Upset everyone. Please.”

“The odds… aren’t looking good,” Pearl admitted. “But I have hope! I mean, it’ll be predictable if Orange wins. It won’t make for a good plot.”

“I’ll tell you what makes for a terrible plot. A 3-0 in Dodgebolt with Not-Fruit and his Not-Boyfriends winning.” Ren paused. “Not that that’s going to happen.”

“That’ll be the most boring Dodgebolt ever. Everybody would hate it except for Stan Twitt, and Stan will pretend it’s the best Dodgebolt ever while casually forgetting, let’s say, the underdogs getting a reverse sweep exactly two Championships ago.”

“You guys sure are making oddly specific predictions today.”

H was focused on his two opponents. He dodged and jumped to avoid being shot, but his grip on his air gun was surprisingly steady. The Axolotls stood with the rest of the Green Guardians, screaming their support for HBomb. 

“How can he be so calm?” False gaped in amazement. “Everyone’s focused on him, and Stan Twitt hates him right now.”

“He’s not as calm as he seems,” Fwhip told her. “He’s just… holding himself together for us.”

Two green paintballs were dispensed on H’s side of the court. He inserted them into his gun, took a deep breath, and he aimed. 

“Come on, H,” Fwhip muttered, hands balled up into anxious fists. “Come on, come on, come on.” 

“If he misses, he has to dodge two more shots,” Pearl pointed out. “He has to shoot both of them.”

False was getting uncharacteristically worked up. “Upset Stan Twitt!” she chanted, waving her green banner so vigorously that she nearly fell down. 

Then it happened.

It happened so quick, they nearly missed it.

A green paintball hurled towards Philza and exploded. Before anyone could even breathe, another paintball splattered on Wilbur, covering the Orange Piglets and their side of the field with a brilliant shade of green. 

For one second, no one said anything.

And then—

“WE WON!” The Green Guardians hollered. Eret, Fwhip and Pete immediately jumped onto the Dodgebolt field and hugged H. 

“Green Guardians win the 7th Championship!” A voice boomed from somewhere, drowning out the pathetic whines of fans who were “angy” that their “uwu Techno-chan” and “Wilbur oppa” lost. 

“YESSS!” Pearl whooped. “Fwhip won! A 3-G student won!!”

“YASSS HMAMA!” Ren squealed. “They did it! They upset Reddit and Stan Twitt!”

Stan Twitt was sobbing ugly tears and insulting the Green Guardians in a way that was reminiscent of a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. Herman Blur, tired of Stan Twitt’s bullshit, raised a fist, but before he could punch Stan, a leg slammed into Stan and knocked him out. Herman blinked, in awe.

“Cherry Twitt!” Herman exclaimed, gaping at her. “Awesome!”

Cherry winked at Herman. “Just doing everyone a favour. No one slanders my boi HBomb94. That being said, I should talk to Fruit. He’s probably feeling a little down because of his 14th place. Also,” Cherry walked towards Herman and flung an arm around his shoulder, “nice butterfly wings. Haven’t seen them before.” She touched the magenta and pink gossamer wings, fascinated by the intricate designs. 

Herman swallowed, flattered. “Y-yeah. I made them yesterday. I was inspired by Stress’ beautiful glass butterflies. Also, uhh, you’re getting kinda close?” 

“Whoops!” Cherry heartily slapped Herman’s back and moved away. “Sorry, forgot you’re kinda a hermit.”

Herman scratched his head awkwardly. “If it’s you, I don’t mind,” he mumbled. 

“Oooh, I heard that,” Cherry drawled, grinning mischievously. “Glad to know I’m your only exception, Herman.”

“Oh shh. It’s because your kids are nice to my kids.” Herman flushed. “And stop distracting me before I forget again…”

He pulled out two plushies from his bag, one a plushie of a cherry, another of a bomb, fitting Cherry Bomb Twitt’s name. “Here.” He passed them to Cherry. “Thanks for being a great friend.”

“Aww, you don’t have to!” Cherry gasped, clearly very taken by the plushies. She took the bomb one and squished it. “Huh. I kinda expected it to explode, considering you’re the TA to the literal Boomers…”

“I-I mean, I was busy making plushies for my kids… like Jellie plushies and Cub and Jevin and Xb and False… so I thought, why not for you too?” Herman rambled, eyes staring anywhere but Cherry. “Maybe I can make nonhuman designs for your kids too, but Fruit is already kind of, you know, a fruit—”

He was cut off by Cherry hugging him. “Thanks, Herman,” Cherry whispered. “You’re the best!”

Herman patted Cherry’s back, a grin on his face. “Yeah, love ya too.” A few seconds passed before he added “platonically.”

Somebody cleared their throat. “You guys really are hugging over Stan Twitt’s dead body. Which is a mood.”

“Obviously,” Herman Blur drawled, but stopped when he realized who he was talking. “Oh, uh, hi, Scott.”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Hello. Also, you guys better scarper before Stan Twitt wakes up and fires both of you.”

Cherry and Herman stared at Stan, who was tossing and turning and mumbling about “OOMFs” and “generic skinny white males in their young twenties”. Cherry groaned.

“Why can’t Stan just die? I mean, he did give me a job, but I kinda wanna murder him.”

“He’s resilient,” Herman remarked grimly. “We all are, to be honest. Stan Twitt survived scandals, and I survived the ship discourse.”

A demonic screech interrupted their conversation. Stan had unfortunately woken up. “WHOMST hurt my poor UwU babey self?” 

Scott, Herman, and Cherry shared exasperated looks. Herman grabbed Cherry’s hand and they took off. Scott put on a false smile and helped Stan up.

“Oh hey, Principal Stan! You’re awake! That’s… nice! You fainted because you were too shocked by the, uh,” Scott made a face, hating what he was about to say next, “UwU bois losing the Championship!”

Stan huffed. “Technoblade is such a loser. How come he only had one ace and not three? Unstanning him, but I still love him. I am a walking contradiction, I am a hypocrite and I don’t care because I possess no critical thinking skills.”

Scott blinked, surprised by how strangely perceptive Stan was. No doubt that sudden clarity would only last for two seconds. “Oh, and uhh, you need to present the trophy to the Green Guardians. They’ve been waiting for a while.”

As Green Guardians walked on stage to receive their trophy, the Axolotls clustered beneath their feet, screaming and whooping. Fwhip leapt off the stage to hug the Axolotls, golden crown glittering on his head.
“Legacy for the win!” “3-GH solidarity!” “You’re so pog!”

“We’re so proud, Fwhip!” Ren beamed. “Like, we were in the 4th Championship together, and look at how far you’ve come!”

Fwhip smiled bashfully. “Yeah, it’s super cool to see my skills improve! And I’m sure you guys will win one day. Maybe not with me, but you’ll definitely win. If a 3-G student can win, why not the 3-H hermits?”

“I know, right!” Pearl flung her arms around the hermits. “And when you win, you can rejoin the main campus and stop the discrimination!”

… Ah. That was right. They could return if they won. False, Grian, and Ren shared looks. Somehow, all three of them had forgotten about that part.

They were having so much fun in 3-H though. It was better than being forced to practice PvP and parkour and speedrunning, and in 3-H, they had the chance to express themselves. Whether by builds, machines, music, video editing, or even armour stands. One question popped up in the hermits’ minds, one that they hadn’t really thought about in a long time. 

If they won the Championship, would they leave 3-Hermitcraft?

I’m Mr Bad Guy

They’re all afraid of me

It’s my only way to be

That’s my destiny 

So HBomb won the 7th Championship. Which was nice, but the main point was that they defeated the fan favourite. They defeated Technoblade’s team. 

Sure, the Green Guardians was a little overpowered, and they were predicted to win, but everybody was rooting for the Orange Piglets. It was the last time they would be teamed up after the Pink Piglets in the 6th Championship, and H knew they desperately wanted a win. Technoblade even spent hours studying the Build Mart builds and his team dominated the game. They put in a lot of effort. They sweated, practiced every day, hoping they could win with their closest friends. 

It would be amazing if they, Stan Twitt’s precious babies, could win. The Power of Friendship would triumph over everything else, and it would be the perfect ending to their story. Technoblade, Wilbur, Seapeekay, and Philza as the victors of the 7th Championship. How pleasing, how poetic would it be!

Too bad HBomb ruined everything with his three Dodgebolt kills. 

Too. Freaking. Bad.

To add insult to injury, HBomb and Pete had been in the Dodgebolt last Championship. Sure, they lost to Fruit’s team last time, but the fact their team placed first twice in a row was very telling of their talents and leadership skills. 

Stan Twitt raged and hollered, but H just gleefully cackled. He scooped Fwhip up, ecstatic his crafter friend from 3-G could win. Eret could be considered one of the rare crafters in 3-A, and he had gotten 32nd last time, but he jumped up to 17th. And of course Pete did amazing as always. H tightly hugged his friends, delighted for everybody. 

“WE FREAKIN DID IT!”

Fans of the Orange Piglets glared at them, pissed off. Of course the Guardians didn’t care at all. H shot the stans a dazzling smile, flexing his team’s victory. 

“Your three kills saved us!” Pete gushed, heartily clapping H on the back. “HBomb, you madman! I’m bad at Dodgebolt, haha.”

“Awww come on, don’t be like that!” H mockingly glared at Pete. “You got us to Dodgebolt, Mr. Green God!”

“Oh goodness, they’re booing us,” Eret deadpanned, referring to the distraught and anguished crowd of stans around them. “They’re booing the crafters for winning.”

HBomb snorted. “Let’s spit on their graves. We won fair and square.”

The crowd wouldn’t stop hollering insults at the very legitimate winners for some reason. Maybe they lacked braincells. 

“THEY STOLE THE WIN FROM TECHNO!1!1!!”

“NoOooOOOO UNPOG!”

“RIGGED! THEY RIGGED IT FOR GREEN!”

H rolled his eyes. “First they said Noxcrew rigged it for Techno, and now they rigged it for us. Make up your mind!”

“HOW DARE YOU!” Somebody screamed. “Orange was supposed to win! It was written in the stars!”

“Yeah, like the world revolves around a certain team,” Fwhip scoffed. “What are they, the protagonists of the Championship?”

“OF COURSE THEY ARE!” The somebody declared loudly (and stupidly). “Techno and Dream are the only people who matter!”

“Oh God. People don’t understand sarcasm?!” Eret hissed to his teammates, but H had a comeback in mind. 

“So they’re the protagonists, the MCs of the MCCs?” H boomed, a wild glint in his bright blue eyes. “If that’s the case…”

He spread his arms wide as if to embrace the world, and his voice lowered dramatically.

“Then I’ll be the villain. ”

The stans stared at him, baffled. H scoffed, and pretended to flick his hair.

“I’ll ruin their lives. I’ll ruin your lives. Heck, I’ll even ruin my life (but let’s not talk about that). I love upsetting everyone. Screw Stan Twitt and clout.”

H had attracted a sizeable audience by then, all of them wondering what H was high on. The rest of the Guardians stared up at him, entertained yet mildly terrified of H’s craziness.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” H continued. He leaned forward, and with a cheeky smirk, he drawled,

“H’s coming for ya.”

He mimed dropping a microphone, dramatically turned on his heel, and disappeared. 

I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died 

If I never loved, I never would have cried

14th place.

That was who Fruit was.

A Green God, dropping from 5th to 14th.

Pete, H, and Dream took 1st, 2nd and 3rd respectively. Of course they would. Pete and H, along with Fwhip and Eret, won the 7th Championship. Pete and H were in Dodgebolt for two times in a row, and after being defeated by Fruit’s team last time, they snatched the win from Technoblade’s team. 

It was horrible how everyone almost instantly started doubting Fruit. “Even a crafter scored higher than him,” Fruit heard them furiously hiss. “Puffy scored higher than him in his own team. How can he call himself Techno and Dream’s sensei?”

Fruit wanted to tell them they were all wrong, and he had a bad day, or he was unlucky, but the words never came out of his lips. Did Fruit have any valid excuses? Maybe he wasn’t that great after all. Maybe he didn’t deserve the Green God title.

Calm down, Fruit firmly told himself. It’s just a fluke. A one-time thing. You’ll perform better next time.

But then a horrible thought popped into his head.

What if his win was a fluke?

… 

Was Fruit really that good? Or did his opponents just do badly in the last Championship?

He watched the two other Green Gods and H stand on the podium. Everybody was hollering and screaming for the top three performers. Of course Fruit was proud. They had all worked hard.

… Fruit had worked hard, didn’t he? Maybe it just wasn’t enough.

Fruit told himself not to care. That a stupid ranking didn’t mean anything. That he was still a well respected speedrunner and PvPer and trapper. That being 14th was okay. He was in the top 35% of the participants.

It still kinda hurt.

…

Scratch that. It just hurt. 

And suddenly it was like he never won the 6th Championship. He was back to the drawing board, back to fighting for people’s appreciation. The third Green God, forgotten and ignored by his peers. Just like how it used to be.

“Wow, look at Fruitberries being a sore loser. His ego can’t handle it.”

Fruit could already imagine people talking about him. His muscles stiffened and he squared his shoulders. He staunchly ignored the stares of his peers and marched towards H.

“HEY!” Fruit screamed in an admittedly-not-loud voice. H was carrying his teammate Fwhip on his shoulders, and Fruit realized Fwhip was probably the first 3-G student to win. The hermits and the crafters surrounded Fwhip, cheering, ecstatic that one of them won.

“Congratulations!” Fruit whooped, clapping his hands. “Holy shit. That was a really intense Dodgebolt!”

H smiled at him, but Fruit’s voice was quickly overpowered by the rest of their friends cheering for them. Feeling a little awkward, Fruit turned to Techno’s team to congratulate them on getting second. But their team was getting hugged by a sobbing Stan Twitt, and Fruit could barely get closer.

“MY UWU BOIS!” Stan screamed, tears staining Philza’s shirt. “My Orange Piglets had their happy ending denied!! SCREW THE GREEN GUARDIANS! NFNSNFJSJJDAJJS!!11!”

Techno and Fruit shared pained looks. “Umm,” Fruit began.

“Don’t worry, Technoblade-chan,” Stan sniffled. “I’ll rig it so you’ll win the 8th Championship! WAAaaAAAaAA! Screw HBomb! Screw Eret! Screw Pete! And whoever-that-3-G-student’s-name-is!!” 

Not knowing what to say, Fruit offered, “Congrats?” The Orange Piglets, still trapped in Stan Twitt’s arms, didn’t seem to have heard Fruit, but smiled politely at him. And Fruit knew that was all he was going to get.

… All around Fruit were people screaming and jumping up and down. Everyone was cheering for the victors of the 7th Championship. Pete, H, Fwhip, Eret, Technoblade, Dream. And the thirteen other students who did better than Fruit. And—

Fruit knew he didn’t belong here.

…

Maybe he never did. He didn’t have as much clout as anyone else. He didn’t have a lot of friends. And his friends had their friends anyway. And Illumina wasn’t there with him. Yes, he was a Green God, but he was probably nothing compared to the other two. Everyone just saw him as “the green guy who isn’t Dream”. Fruit had been told that so many times, he almost dyed his hair to a different colour.

Everything faded into white noise as he hurried away, suddenly desperate to get away from people. His footsteps thudded on the ground, and he half-wished someone would call after him.

No one did. Fruit was relieved, yet irrationally disappointed. 

Fruit vaguely thought of calling Illumina, but he knew he would be busy. And it would be such a stupid reason to call him. 

And of course calling H was not an option. He just won, for fuck’s sake. H didn’t need to be bothered by Fruit complaining about getting a slighter worse (but still pretty good) rank. 

Fruit supposed he would just stew in his emotions for a while until he stopped being cringey and shit. His feet carried him away from the main campus. Fruit was tired after the Championship, but he walked faster and faster, powered by his angst. 

Fruit didn’t care, okay? He wasn’t supposed to care! He was supposed to be chill and happy!

(But he just wanted to be accepted, he wanted to be recognized for who he was, he wanted to make friends, and holy shit did he miss Illumina, why couldn’t he be there—)

There was a hill near the main campus, and Fruit found himself blindly running towards there. Maybe his green hair could blend into the bushes and trees, and he could hide from whatever he was running from. Fruit laughed, but it was a hollow laugh.

He brushed past branches and stumbled up the hill. Fruit hadn’t been there before, but it seemed like a nice place to be on his own. He could be concealed, sheltered. He could melt into the greenery.

He could disappear.

And no one would ever notice or care. 

Fruit found a tree, and noiselessly sat down underneath it. He curled up into a little ball, hugging his knees to his chest. He shifted the leaves so they covered his head. It was nice and cozy and tranquil and silent. He shut his eyes. 

Seconds ticked into minutes. Fruit had no idea how long he stayed there, but he knew he accidentally fell asleep. He was woken up by a clap of thunder and wet drops of rain landing on his skin. Fruit internally groaned. His pathetic leafy hiding spot did nothing to shelter him. Great. Of course it’s raining to suit my mood.

(Sometimes Fruit wondered if he was just some angsty teenage loner in a badly-written half-crack, half-salt fic.)

Fruit yanked his lime hoodie over his head and searched for some real shelter. In the distance, he saw a vague outline of a stone structure with a purple dome. It seemed like a pavilion… of sorts. In the middle of the woods. Which was perfectly normal. Not weird at all.

Panting, Fruit dashed towards the pavilion, his clothes getting completely drenched. He flung himself on one of the stone benches in the pavilion, and exhaled. He took off his soaking wet hoodie, and his phone fell out.

Ah. That was right. Fruit checked to see if he had missed anything while he was sleeping. Nothing. No texts, no phone calls, no anything.

Fuck it.

Fruit called Illumina. The “beep, beep” echoed throughout the area. Fruit winced, hating how his phone sounded especially loud in the silence. Fruit stared at his phone, waiting for Illumina to pick up. He stared. And stared.

“Beep, beep, beep…”

Maybe Fruit was lucky. Maybe Illumina had turned on his phone. 

“Beep, beep, beep…”

Or maybe not, and he was just annoying Illumina.

“Beep, beep, be—”

It was too much for Fruit. He hung up before the call was even connected. The jarring noise of his phone just reminded him of how alone he was, in some goddamn pavilion, on a hill. Because everyone else had cool shit to do, and Fruit was just being emo.

Why was he so sad? He wasn’t supposed to care. 

He curled up into a ball again, and shivered. The rain had soaked through his skin, now chilling his bones. His stomach rumbled, and he winced. Not only was he tired, sad, but he was also hungry and cold. Fruit regretted every one of his decisions, until—

Footsteps.

“Hello?”

Fruit’s heart skipped a beat, and he looked up.

And a rock feels no pain 

And an island never cries

Chapter Text

I've built walls

A fortress deep and mighty

That none may penetrate

Hiding in my room, safe within my womb

I touch no one and no one touches me

I am a rock 

I am an island 

“Hello?”

Fruit’s heart skipped a beat, and he looked up. 

A blonde hermit stared down at him with a surprised expression. Fruit swallowed.

“Hi…” Fruit replied cautiously. He suddenly felt like he shouldn’t be here at all. Like he’d wandered into someone’s cozy little world without invitation. Leaving the victors’ territory just to enter the hermits’ territory, never finding a place to belong to. But at the same time, he was so glad to see another person, even if it was one he barely knew. 

False sat down next to him, a large bag in her hands. She folded her hands on her lap, then absentmindedly raised them, as if she couldn’t decide what to do with them. Fruit watched as she resorted to wiping raindrops off her goggles. “Fancy seeing you here,” she said after a pause.

Fruit laughed, but his laughter quickly died down. He recalled why he was here— he was feeling irrationally upset after the 7th Championship, and decided to run away for some reason. God. He was so pathetic. 

“Where is this place, actually?” He asked in an effort to keep the conversation going. “The 3-H classroom?”

“No, but it’s on our hill, so it’s technically our space. We’re quite a bit away from our classroom though.”

Fruit stared down at his hands. “Oh.”

Fruit felt awkward and misplaced. False was nice, but he didn’t really know her. Not to mention she had caught him in a vulnerable position— he was soaking and rolled up in a ball. Plus Fruit didn’t want to talk about his so-called problems, especially with someone he wasn’t close with. (Heck, even if, let’s say, Illumina was there, he wouldn’t say much. Because his problems were really stupid and he didn’t deserve any attention or comfort.)

Fruit’s stomach rumbled, and he winced. He hadn’t eaten anything after the Championship and he was seriously regretting it. HBomb the boomer would certainly yell at him. 

“You want a banana?”

Fruit stared at False, then at the banana in her outstretched hand. If it was any consolation, she looked as awkward as he was. Not in the “you make me uncomfortable” way, but in the “how do you interact with people again?” way. Here he was, feeling lonely and sad and cold and all that shit and False was offering a banana—

That was, funnily enough, exactly what he needed.

False noticed he needed help and offered it without prying. She cared about him without it getting personal. 

“Thanks,” he abruptly said, and took the banana. He munched on it without a second thought, glad to have something in his stomach. He demolished it within seconds, but his hunger wasn’t satisfied.

“Sorry, you ate my emergency banana,” False told him. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a container of iced cookies. “But I do have these. They’re not as filling, but they’ll do.”

“Thank you.” Fruit was too mystified by the concept of an “emergency banana” to do anything other than accept the food.

He stared at the cookies. No doubt they were homemade, judging from the squiggly lines of icing. The cookies looked like a variety of things— mushrooms, cats, dragons, jellyfish, just to name a few. False must have put in a lot of effort to make these for the hermits, and Fruit felt bad for eating them.

False must have read his mind, because she immediately said, “It’s alright, I made too many cookies anyway.”

“Huh. Okay.”

Rain dripped down as he munched on the cookies. False told him she wanted to work on her purple domed pavilions after the Championship (so she did make those), but she forgot to bring an umbrella, so they were both stuck there until the rain stopped. “Unless,” False said, “we use those big leafy plants for cover, but I spent too much time terraforming the area and I’m not going to rip the leaves off.”

“Understandable.” Fruit looked down at his cookie, which could be best described as a caricature of Stan Twitt complete with an exaggerated “UwU” face. Fruit bit the cookie, and watched with satisfaction as Stan Twitt’s icing face cracked. He took out a cookie with another recognizable face. He blinked, and wondered if he was seeing things.
“Wait. That’s me, isn’t it?”

False peered over his shoulder and chuckled, a little embarrassed. “Yeah. That’s you. You’re the hermits’ patron saint along with Pete and H because you three are nice to us.”

“Oh.” Fruit didn’t know what to say. “I thought you just drew Dream really badly.” 

Upon mentioning Dream, False scoffed. “Does everyone mistake you for Dream?”

“A surprising amount of people do,” Fruit told her. “Like, I mean, we’re both green and we have smiley faces, and we have similar skill sets, but the difference should be obvious, yeah? People still call me not-Dream.”

“A shame,” False said. Fruit could tell from her tone that she was trying not to laugh. “I’ll tell you something embarrassing— a few months ago, I kept on mistaking Dream as you. My brain could not remember the most popular student for some stupid reason, and kept subsituting you in.” 

“Really? That’s honestly a first.” Fruit was now entertained. He suddenly decided he liked False. To hear that someone remembered him more firmly than Dream was quite funny.

“Anyways, it became a running gag and the hermits made fun of me,” False deadpanned. “But it all worked out in the end, since you helped us quite a bit, so Fruitberries is now our patron saint. Dream is the guy who isn’t you or Pete, and also the guy Grian killed when he went bananas.”

“... You guys don’t like Dream?”

False’s eyes dimmed like she was recalling something unpleasant. “I generally don’t trust the main campus students. Excluding 3-G and my old teammates, of course. And especially not the popular kids from 3-A. Dream hasn’t really done anything except for hitting me too much in Survival Games, but I’m wary of most 3-A students. Except you, of course. And H and Pete.”

Fruit frowned slightly. “Sorry, that was a dumb question. You’re hermits after all. How about Techno?”

False shrugged. “He did help us… but truth be told, I’m scared of him. Wilbur seems nice, but I know too little about him.”

“I see, I see. I know I sound biased, but the 3-A people aren’t as bad as they seem,” Fruit told her. 

“I know,” False immediately replied, then she sighed. “But I suppose it’s better to be safe than sorry…”

Now Fruit could see the greenery around them was carefully constructed, with bushes and flowers and even some adorable mushrooms. Fruit felt at ease here, at False’s elegant and detailed pavilions. The shade of purple wasn’t jarring or too pale, it was just right. He could see a clocktower further away, and a… stone bridge that connected False’s various builds? 

“Wait.” Fruit wrinkled his nose. “Are those aqueducts?”

False lifted her head. “Yep. Didn’t expect it to rain, but now we can see the aqueducts in action! I didn’t expect it to work so well, to be honest. I guess Cub and Tango’s calculations were right.”

They both watched the water trickle down the aqueducts. The sight was soothing, and Fruit found himself relaxing, the knots in his muscles loosening. It was a welcome change from the hectic and loud life at the main campus. “I really like what you’ve got here,” he said after a quiet moment. 

“Ohh, it’s not even close to being finished,” False replied instantly. “And a couple more hermits are working on projects here… like Tango’s stuff and Ren’s tower.” She nodded at the builds in the distance. “We’re all going for a fantasy style.”

Fruit squinted at another tower with a faintly recognizable shape, half-hidden by the mist. “... Hey, that kinda looks like your clocktower.” he pointed out.

“Yup, that’s Ren’s. He used the exact proportions of my tower. We’re working together in this area, and we don’t watch our styles to clash.”

They fell quiet again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence. Fruit ate the cookies. False took out her notebook and started sketching. Neither of them said a word, but they enjoyed each other’s company. 

Fruit decided he liked spending time with False. She was nice without being too nice and overbearing. Plus, instead of asking him to talk about his problems, she entertained him by talking about the hermits’ builds. Fruit loved H, he really did, but he could be a bit too aggressive and assertive and loud. Not that that was a problem! It was just that sometimes, Fruit needed peace and quiet. 

Fruit gazed at the hermits’ projects, eyes wide as he took in all the details. He was already impressed by what a single hermit could achieve. He wondered how fantastic would collaborations between hermits look. Away from the main campus, an entirely different world was thriving, and everyone was happy and content here. 

“It must be nice,” Fruit muttered. “You can freely do stuff with your best friends. Unaffected by any drama that happens on the main campus.”

He could see False glance at him from his peripheral vision. Shit, did he accidentally sound wistful? Thankfully False didn’t ponder on it for long, choosing to take out her phone. Fruit trained his eyes on the fat raindrops sliding off leaves. 

“So… what are you gonna do?”

Fruit spun to look at False. False cleared her throat. “I mean, what are you going to do when the rain lets up?”

Fruit snuck a look at his phone. “Uhhhh… I dunno. Go home? Take a shower?” He shrugged. “I don’t have much to do.”

“Well, youcanvisitourclassroomifyouwant.”

Fruit blinked. “P-pardon?”

False looked embarrassed, her fingers nervously playing with her hair. “You can… visit 3-H if you want?” she repeated, this time slower. “We don’t get a lot of visitors, but I’m sure the hermits won’t mind.”

“Oh! That sounds great, actually. Would love to see your stuff.”

Fruit didn’t know why he sounded so unenthusiastic. He was genuinely excited, and he felt honored. Granted, he didn’t know much about 3-H or crafting, since his expertise was in speedrunning and trapping, but he adored what he’d been shown so far. Plus it would be a welcome distraction from his musing.

… Maybe it was because he felt like was intruding. Fruit wasn’t a crafter by any means. In all honesty, he didn’t belong with the hermits.

“Only if you guys are fine with it,” Fruit hastily added. “I know you guys keep to yourselves, and you get wary of outsiders, sooo… yeeeah.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I just texted the hermits, and everyone’s cool.”

The rain gradually came to a stop, and sunlight filtered through the leaves. It was late afternoon, but it was summer, so the sky was still bright. Fruit deeply inhaled the scent of petrichor, and felt comfortable. 

“Let’s go.” False stood up. They emerged from the pavilion, and Fruit could finally get a good look at the hermits’ creations. “The colours look even better now in the light,” he remarked.

“That’s why we don’t like rain. And ooh, you’ve got to see Stress’ glass art here.” False gestured at the giant glass butterflies and dragonflies that dotted the area. When the sun shone through them, soft yet colourful shadows painted the ground. 

“That’s enchanting.” Fruit couldn’t tear his eyes away from the glass creatures. How could someone make something that suited the surroundings so well?

“This is just a small corner of our world,” False told him. She seemed pleased by Fruit’s reaction. “Come on, we’ve got lots to see.”

The two of them walked over bridges, which were made out of wood, stone or something else entirely, and passed by a frightening number of chests (“We call them Chestmonsters. Scar has the biggest.”). It was sweet how the hermits tried to make places accessible with signs and half-finished roads. Fruit glanced at the symbols etched on the wooden signs. “Fancy,” he quipped.

“That’s Cub’s work. He loves making designs with cool symbols.”

“Our classroom’s on top of the hill,” False informed Fruit. “There’s a road on the other side, but since we’re developing the area on this side, we came up with a pretty cool transport network.” She brushed some leaves out of the way, revealing a tower built in a similar style to her purple pavilions. There were two zip lines connecting the tower to somewhere higher up. “Welcome to the HRN!” False announced. “The Hermit Railway Network. We say it’s a railway even though we mostly use zip lines, but HZN doesn’t quite roll off the tongue as well, does it?”

“Hey Falsie! Fruityloops!”

Fruit glanced up to see Ren on the tower, beaming and waving down at them. 

“Hi!” False called out, also grinning. She then whispered to Fruit, “HRN is Ren’s baby. He started the HRN, but other hermits have contributed. Like how I made this station.”

“I can tell.” Purple domed buildings seemed to be False’s speciality. (Not that Fruit knew anything about building.)

The two went up the tower to meet up with Ren, who explained the mechanics of the HRN. “We used a bit of redstone to power us up the hill. I suck at redstone, so I had to get Daddy Iskall to help me. Anywhoozle, this works similarly to Rocket Spleef. Just strap yourself in and boom! You’re off!”

So the trio zoomed up the hill, with Ren and False enthusiastically introducing the hermits’ creations to Fruit. Fruit was absolutely baffled by the sheer size and details of the builds, and even more so when the hermits kept on insisting they weren’t done. “You guys are insane,” he kept on marvelling. 

“You’re the one who’s insane,” Ren replied. “I mean, your PvP skills? Man. It’s crazy.” Fruit couldn’t help but smile at the praise.

“Thanks for coming here at such short notice,” Fruit heard False say to Ren.

“No problem. Wasn’t planning on doing much this afternoon, to be honest.”

The wind blew past Fruit’s hair, and he couldn’t help but smile. Being a speedrunner and trapper, he didn’t use zip lines often, but he appreciated how carefree and light he felt. He was used to sprinting and parkour, but using zip lines was way faster. Plus the view was fantastic. Fruit laughed and waved his arms, appreciating the freedom of soaring through the air. 

“LET’S GOOOO!” he cheered. “I could do this all day!” Behind him, False and Ren laughed.

And in that glorious moment, Fruit felt like he could leave all his problems behind.

I don't even need to change the world

I'll make the moon shine just for your view

I'll make the starlight circle the room

To be honest, False didn’t know how to talk to Fruit.

After the 7th Championship, she and the hermits returned to the 3-H classroom. After all, it was their happy place. After a quick shower and snack (they built showers in 3-H for convenience), False made her way down to her purple pavilions. She wasn’t planning to build (she was too tired for that); she just wanted to work on her designs. Unfortunately, it started to rain.

It was then she saw a sopping wet Fruit, curled up in a ball, looking sad and lonely. 

Fruit didn’t look okay at all, but False knew it was definitely not her place to pry. She could try to work out what happened to him, but False didn’t want to make assumptions since she thought that was disrespectful. Plus, Fruit looked vulnerable, and False wasn’t going to take advantage of that. 

Despite that, she wanted to help Fruit. She’d caught glimpses of Fruit at the main campus, like when he was bullied in the 1st Championship, or when he tried to catch people’s attention but failed. But how to help him was the real question. 

False didn’t know why she decided to offer a banana of all things, but Fruit looked relieved when she did, so she supposed it worked out in the end? 

(Fruit would probably prefer someone who was better with people, like Ren. But False was the one there for Fruit, and she wasn’t going to whine about it and drown in her self pity.)

They didn’t speak much, but False noticed Fruit seemed to like it when she talked about the hermits’ projects. So False had the bright idea to invite him over for a tour. 3-H didn’t do tours, but her classmates would make an exception for their patron saint, right? Plus Fruit was at the hermits’ hill already. And it would make Fruit happier, even if just by a bit. Maybe looking at pretty stuff could temporarily distract Fruit from whatever he was facing. 

So False asked, and Fruit agreed to the tour. False decided she wanted someone with her in case things got awkward, so she hurriedly texted her Championship buddy Ren. Good thing he was available. Having friends next to her, especially someone as easygoing as Ren, made her less stressed. Her shoulders sagged with relief when she saw Ren at the HRN station.  

“Grian’s going to flip out, isn’t he?” Ren whispered to False as they zip lined up the hill.

False snorted. “For sure. He’s probably doing that in chat right now.”

The 3-H building soon came into view. It was way larger now, with the addition of two towers, one made out of white concrete, the other out of stone. Iskall’s Omega Tree of Doom that he imported from somewhere stood tall and proud beside the building. Colourful crystals, courtesy of Scar, were dotted around the area. Cub’s half-finished pyramid loomed imposingly in the background, the golden tip glinting in the sunlight. A little further away, they could hear industrial farms ticking. Scar’s gigantic flowers and plants curled around the roof of the main building, while blue nether vines dangled from the roof. They could hear someone hysterically laughing  in the pond, which now had a water slide and palm trees. Next to False, Fruit gaped, stunned by the beauty of 3-H.

“This is… an explosion on the eyes,” Fruit admitted. “In a good way, of course.”

“Welcome to 3-Hermitcraft, Fruit!”

Xisuma, Etho, and Hypno were chatting outside the main building. They smiled politely at Fruit. Fruit looked dazed and delighted to see one of the most popular students Mr. Ethoslab himself. Xisuma immediately went into “dad mode” upon seeing Fruit.

“Oh goodness, are you cold? Your clothes are all wet. I’m sure we can find something for you.”

“Oh… there’s no need.”

“We don’t want you to get sick!” Xisuma exclaimed. “Although we won’t force you if you don’t want to. By the way, would you like some pumpkin pie? I think some just came out of the oven.”

Fruit laughed. “I just ate… but I’m hungry again. Some pie would be nice, thanks.”

“Alright! One freshly baked pie coming up!”

At first False was a little worried Fruit would feel overwhelmed around the hermits, but he seemed to be doing fine. And doing better than he was before, when she found him on the pavilion. 

… And seeing Fruit being happy made her feel happy too.

I never had nobody and no road home

I wanna be somebody to someone

And if the sun's upset and the sky goes cold

Then if the clouds get heavy and start to fall

I really need somebody to call my own

I wanna be somebody to someone

The hermits were kind to Fruit, but not in a patronizing or ingenuine way. They respected his space, and didn’t press when Fruit said he didn’t want something. Fruit had met a lot of nice people, but the hermits were just so… chill. So calm even when someone they respected visited them. Even though Fruit was a little intimidated, he felt comfortable with them. Many of his peers in 3-A were dramatic and noisy, which Fruit enjoyed, but it was great to find a community of people as chill as he was. 

Iskall and Mumbo enthusiastically introduced Fruit to their Pacific shop that was “revolutionary” and “very Pacific”. (Fruit didn’t know “Pacific” could be used as an adjective.) Xb and Bdubs were discussing interiors, using jargon that Fruit didn’t know but was fascinated with. Doc and Cleo were having a heated discussion about politics, but paused to let Fruit see the beautiful and lifelike statues Cleo created (he heard those were her speciality). Fruit didn’t understand how Cleo could make a lump of wood so detailed in different ways. “This is dope as hell!” he exclaimed. 

Next were Impulse, Tango, and Zedaph, who was testing some strange contraption featuring a water stream, an arrow, a dummy, and a piece of green glass (no, Fruit did not understand what was going on. He felt like his tour guides False and Ren didn’t either). Upon learning that Fruit was a trapper, they excitedly rambled about their own redstone traps. They were good, but too time and resource consuming for someone like Fruit who valued efficiency and cost effectiveness. He shared his own traps, which were less sophisticated, but still they had a wonderful time exchanging ideas. 

All the hermits kept on mentioning Tango’s partially finished minigame, Decked Out. “It’s like Sands of Time, but way cooler and scarier,” Ren described. Fruit’s ears perked up. “I’m interested,” he declared.

Tango let him walk through part of Decked Out as a treat. The music, which had also been composed by the hermits, gave the minigame a more mysterious and threatening aura. The clanging of the bells in Sands of Times were ominous, but it was nothing compared to the ba-bump, ba-bump that mimicked the player’s heartbeat. When Fruit took a wrong step, a noise emitted, showing he had accumulated “clank” and increased his risk of being in danger. Consequently, his “heartbeat” sped up, and Fruit felt chills go down his spine. Decked Out was thrilling and beautifully immersive, even in its half completed stage. 

“DUDE!” Fruit had screamed when he dashed out of Decked Out. “MR. TANGO! This is amazing! Holy shi—”

Impulse nudged Tango. “See, I told you everyone loves Decked Out. No need to worry.”

“I can’t believe you made that,” Fruit marvelled. “Like the mechanics and everything… you’re insane. All of you are insane.”

They found Joe and Stress at the flower field. Joe was sprouting something philosophical, while Stress was gushing about “plonkers” and “geezers”. Stress weaved him a flower crown from sunflowers (“to give you joy!”) and Fruit gladly took it. Fruit didn’t understand what Joe was talking about, but he understood Joe meant well. Halfway through, Cleo barged in and acted as Joe’s “translator”, with Joe insisting Cleo was simplifying his words. It was wholly chaotic, but fun.

Two figures suddenly appeared, and Fruit thought they were both hermits, but then False told him one of them was a clone. They were Wels and Hels, Wels and his evil counterpart. They started rapping in front of him, and Fruit whooped, enjoying the roasts. Jevin, with a shulker box in his hands, stopped by to say hi to Fruit and thank him for defending him at the 1st Championship.

Beef and Keralis were chatting at Keralis’ miniature city with its detailed planes and buildings. Fruit cackled when he saw the infamous “Four Seasons Landscaping Hotel”. Swiftly after that, they exchanged words with TFC, whose calm demeanor Fruit admired. It was also refreshing to meet someone who didn’t have ambitious plans to build something mega and gorgeous (although he’d been told TFC was a mining beast. All of the hermits were so hardworking.)

Cub proudly showed Fruit around, from the extravagant lapis lazuli ceiling in his pyramid to the colourful murals on his walls. Fruit chomped on cinnamon buns as Cub explained his thought process and his ideas. “And that’s not even half of it,” Cub declared. “I have big plans for this.”

“I can see,” Fruit chuckled. “Really big plans for sure.”

They finally went into the classroom after exploring the sights outside. Fruit was told that this building was jointly designed by Grian, Scar and Bdubs, three of the best builders 3-H had to offer. Scar cheerfully greeted them, hands full of art books. “Nice to see you, Fruityloops! Welcome to the wonderful world of hermits and crafting!” It was cute to see Scar had adopted Ren’s way of saying his name. Fruit vaguely remembered Scar as the one who was knocked down by the bullies after the 5th Championship. Now he knew why the hermits were so protective of him— Scar was a ray of sunshine, and he always sounded like he was smiling. 

The instant Fruit stepped in, he knew the 3-H classroom was the heart of the hermit community. The wooden walls were covered with a myriad of photos and artwork and posters, and everybody had something different on their desk to personalize it. Ren had a miniature Darth Vader tower, while False had little cat figurines. Scar walked around the classroom and attempted to explain the chaos that was going on the walls, but it felt like not even him could understand it. To Scar’s distress, Scar’s cat Jellie was sitting on the router. “Oh no, Jellie!” he cried out, and rushed over to pick her up. Jellie meowed and sniffed Fruit, then turned her head away.

“Come on, Jellie, don’t be mean!” Scar mock scolded Jellie. He used a finger to boop Jellie’s nose. 

“Ummm, hello?”

A nervous, high-pitched voice behind him. Fruit turned. 

Grian. The only hermit Fruit hadn’t met, yet it was one Fruit knew because Grian was so famous. “Hi,” Fruit replied, a little cautiously. 

“Hi, Fruity B,” Grian said bashfully. “I’m a big fan. I-I love your stuff. You’re awesome.”

Fruit’s heart warmed. “Umm, your stuff’s great too. Building rustic houses and,” he gestured, “starting wars?”

Grian giggled, and nudged Scar. “What have you guys been telling him? Fruity B’s gonna hate me,” he whined. Scar glared at him.

“You stole my Baby Yoda like three times! You cruel, evil man!” Scar spluttered out.

“Anyways,” Grian switched the topic and turned to Fruit, “I’m really happy to finally speak to you! Oh wait, I haven’t even introduced myself!” Grian started to look flustered, and burst out, “My name is Grian, I like cats, building, aaaand definitely not starting wars.”

Fruit chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, we all know who you are, Grian. You’re pretty well known.”

Fruit could see Ren, False and Scar exchange glances. “What are you guys thinking?” he asked curiously. 

“Nothing!” False replied in a bright tone that obviously meant there was something. “It’s just Grian’s usually a lot more… passionate.” Her eyebrows jerked up. 

“Yep, yep,” Ren chimed in innocently. “Usually G won’t shut up about you, Fruityloops. He probably was so shy he waited for everyone to speak to you.”

Grian gaped at his friends, mock-offended. “Okay, fine. I can’t hold this any longer.” He took a deep breath, then literally screamed, “I LOVE YOU FRUITY BEE! You’re seriously the best! And you’re so cool and friendly and—”

Fruit was surprised as Grian rambled on and on. Out of all hermits, Grian was the “least chill” so far, but he was also shy and bashful, and he always looked up to see if Fruit was weirded out. Fruit was faintly reminded of how HBomb screamed about his achievements, but Grian was polite and a bit more anxious about Fruit’s reactions.

Fruit honestly didn’t know what to say after Grian’s spiel. His heart felt warm and full. “Thanks, Grian,” he replied sincerely. “...That means a lot.”

Grian beamed. “Anyways, I hope you’re enjoying your time here.”

“Oh, I sure am! You guys are pretty cool.”

Fruit found himself drawn to the walls. On the walls were handwritten posters, with hermits trying to exchange commodities such as ink and logs, and an especially noticeable sign that screamed “TAKE MY GREEN DYE!! IT’S CLOGGING UP MY STORAGE!”. There were also tons and tons of photos of the hermits in various outfits, all with bright smiles. Some photos were noticeably more blurry, probably because the cameraman was laughing so much. There were words doodled next to them— “The chicken in a Grian costume” “Convex!” “Wormman” “Avenge Baby Yoda!!” “Shashwamivoid” “Base buddies <3” “We’re Professional Minecrafters!” and more. Fruit didn’t understand any of it since they were all inside jokes. The words were in different handwriting and in different colours, meaning it was a place any hermit could add anything to. Fruit even saw a few hasty scribbles of “Grian was here”. Next to that was “An Omega List (of Doom) of Words Iskall Doesn’t Know” with words like “dinky” and “turd”. Fruit wanted to laugh, but he suddenly felt like he didn’t have the right to. After all, he didn’t know these people. But they knew each other so, so well. 

… These people had let them into their secret world. Fruit was welcomed, but he knew he didn’t belong. He stared at the photos of the hermits, now recognizing their joyous faces, but realizing he couldn’t relate at all. These hermits had a place they called home, and Fruit knew, he fucking knew they wouldn’t allow anyone in it without good reason. It wasn’t because they were pretentious and thought they were better than anyone or something.

It was because they were family. And the family loyally clung to each other. No matter what happened, they always had 3-Hermitcraft. 

…

They always had a home, someplace to return to, someone to return to.

…

It was really sweet.

...

Fruit turned, and caught sight of some photos of the hermits at the Championship. Ren and False were always on the same team. They were like two peas in a pod. They were different from Fruit, who asked to be with someone new every time. He was a “lone wolf”, and usually he didn’t care. He liked meeting new people.

But then he met the hermits and discovered how loyal and loving they were to each other. While his other friends HBomb and Techno roleplayed revolutions and wars with Dream’s friends, Fruit was a speedrunner and trapper at heart. He was always striving to improve himself in the tournaments and competitions he participated in. Sure, he had his friends and the speedrunning community, and he’d speedran a bunch with Illumina, but ultimately, for him, speedrunning was a solo hobby. He didn’t do cute crafting shit like the hermits did. And while Fruit knew working with a big group could be overwhelming, after the tour—

He suddenly wouldn’t mind. 

He suddenly wouldn’t mind at all. 

Fruit was frozen as he gazed at photos, gazed at the memories he never experienced and never shared. Fruit blinked, and told himself he was okay—

The hermits once again shared the daily antics they got up to. Fruit felt… appreciated. The hermits didn’t treat him any differently even though he was a stranger to most of them. It was like he always meant to be there with them, always meant to listen to their little jokes and funny conversations. Always meant to glance through the window into their intimate world. 

… And it was weird, wasn’t it? Because they were strangers. And while Fruit hadn’t spoken a word about his stupid issues that stemmed from his stupid ranking, he felt… cared for. He didn’t need the hermits to be his therapists or whatever. He didn’t need them to dig deep into his heart and change his life or “save” him from his bulllshit. 

He just needed companionship.

He just needed confirmation that people cared even though they didn’t know him. And the hermits cared, oh-so-casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Offering food and clothes, excitedly showing Fruit their projects, going “hey! I think you might like this!”.  

As multiple hermits had emphasised during his tour, the hermits all had different ways of contributing to their community. Be it Ren’s HRN or Cleo’s statues, or even smaller stuff like Bdubs forcing everyone to sleep and Keralis making sure Etho didn’t stay up till 5am. They fit like puzzle pieces together. 

The hermits really were a closely knit family. 

And they didn’t have room for even one more.

Fruit was honored for the chance to visit them. The hermits were a wonderful bunch, and he loved hanging out with them. But in the end, he knew didn’t belong—

And that was it. That was the truth.

But—

Fruit turned back to the photo-covered wall. Ren and False were in all of the Championship pics, occasionally featuring Cub and Grian. There were scribbled notes in messy handwriting: “we won’t get 9th this time!” “well that aged badly :P” “ren stop wearing weird outfits: a challenge” “Hermitcraft Represent!” “we’ll get into Dodgebolt one day! :D”

… The hermits were trying so hard to get better. And they weren’t going to give up. An idea struck Fruit. It sounded a little stupid, but Fruit had a desperate urge to get it out. 

Fruit turned to Ren and False. “Hey, I know the 7th Championship just ended, but will you guys join the 8th?”

They replied without even looking at each other. False replied with “for sure” at the same time Ren said “definitely”. 

“That’s great. I won’t be joining the next one, so, uh, want me to train you guys? I can be your sensei,” Fruit offered. 

“You don’t need to ‘repay’ us or something—”

“No, no, it’s not like that. I just wanna… I just think you’re cool people,” Fruit mumbled. 

(And he liked the hermits and wanted to spend more time with them outside of their hermit sphere.)

“I- you’ll do that? Train the hermits?” Ren asked in an incredulous tone.

“Yeahh, why not? I like you guys.” Fruit said it nonchalantly, but they could all see the smile on his face.

“That’s awesome!” False grinned at Fruit. “Thank you, Fruit!” She stretched out a hand and patted Fruit’s shoulder.

…

And just like that, oh-so-easily, Fruit was content.

The kingdom come, the rise, the fall

The setting sun above it all

I just wanna be somebody to you

The sun’s last rays had vanished when Fruit went down the hill. He took out his phone and mindlessly scrolled through his Twitter timeline, occasionally laughing at the shit his fans said.

And then unexpectedly, his phone rang. 

Fruit instantly accepted the call, his heart thumping. “Hello? Illumina?”

“Hey Fruit! Super sorry for not answering earlier. I had a busy day. How are you?”

“Oh hey! I’m doing good! Really!” Fruit laughed.

“You sound happier, Fruit.” Illumina’s tone was sincere.

“... Do I? Yeah, I probably do.”

“Awww, I’m happy for you. By the way, wanna hear about what happened today in my speedrun? It’s pretty stupid, so it might not be worth mentioning—”

“Ohh come on, I’ll listen to your stupid shit. And I’m sure it’s not stupid anyway.”

(Fruit remembered how just hours earlier, he was scared of burdening Illumina with his stupid shit.)

“Cool! So this morning, I was hunting for a fortress…”

And for the rest of the ride home, Fruit didn’t feel alone at all. 

Chapter Text

I've been so good, I've been helpful and friendly

I've been so good, why am I feeling empty?

I've been so good, I've been so good this year.

Weeks before the 8th Championship, the entire school was already in a frenzy. Ever since a few Championships ago, certain rumours had circulated around the school, but nobody thought they would actually come true. And once the news was revealed, it spread around the school like wildfire, and even the elusive hermits knew about it less than an hour later. 

The best students of the school, Technoblade and Dream, were finally teaming up.

Well technically, Michael and Burren were teaming up with Technoblade and Dream, but due to Techno and Dream’s massive clout, the other two were overlooked and ignored. Which was kinda sad, because they were also part of the four-person team. 

Hence the 8th Championship was hyped up like it had never been before, and the excitement had spread beyond the school. Noxcrew, Scott, and even Stan Twitt were stupefied by the attention given to Team Pink Parrots (most people only cared about Dreamnoblade, but it didn’t feel right to exclude literally half of the freakin’ team). People were talking about the legendary rivals teaming up, with whispers of Techno desperately trying to win following his loss in the 7th Championship. Would Techno get his revenge with help from Burren and Micheal? (Also Dream.)

“They’re totally gonna win,” Cub said when he talked about it with the hermits. He would be joining the 8th Championship along with the regulars False and Ren, plus Pearl from 3-G. They would be in team Yellow Yaks.

“Yeah, Reddit’s placing them first.” Rem sighed. “Oh well. Two of the top PvPers from 3-A, and they’re both members of the student council? So skilled that they’re well known beyond our school? And the two other teammates aren’t bad either. Isn’t this line up kinda unfair?”

“Like this school has ever been fair to anyone,” False retorted. “Well, I suppose this Championship will be a fan favourite. Until the hermits win, of course,” she stated it like it was a fact.

“Yup, yup, we’ll win one day.” Cub and Ren chimed in unison. 

After Fruit’s Hermitcraft tour, Fruit had offered to train the hermits, and by extension, their team. So that was why the three hermits made their way to the main campus one afternoon to meet up with Pearl and Fruit. But when they reached the ugly cobblestone box, there was quite the commotion going on. The hermits frowned and decided to approach it cautiously. After all, they tended to stay away from drama (because it just wasn’t worth it). 

To the hermits’ surprise, Herman Blur was stuck in the chaos, looking extremely distressed. He wrapped his fake angel wings around himself protectively, the flower crown on his head lopsided. Around Herman were a crowd of first and second years, raising signs, protesting something. Opposite of Herman’s gang were a massive hoard of fans, screeching and laughing, holding up photos of popular 3-A students. 

“Wait, Herman Blur’s in trouble?” False wondered out loud. “He tends to avoid discourse. What’s happening?”

“Herman!” Ren called out, jumping up and down to get Herman’s attention. “What’s up my dude?”

When Herman saw the hermits, they looked relieved. “Hey guys! These first and second years here are fans of Hermitcraft, and they’ve always had a selfie day on the 7th to, y’know, interact with other fans and promote Hermitcraft. It’s a way to show solidarity and love within a fandom. But apparently a huge community suddenly decided to change their date to the 7th, thus stealing our thunder, and everyone’s mad.”

People on both sides were shouting and yelling, and it was obvious which side had more support. To everybody’s annoyance, Stan Twitt was also there. Despite being overwhelmed, the Hermitcraft fans stood their ground. 

“What the fuck is a Hermitcraft,” somebody sneered. “If you’re like this you don’t have to worry about what’s in the vaccine. Haha, what an amazing comeback! Pat me on the back! Wow!”

“We’ve been here for a long time!” a hermit fan cried out. “I know we’re not as big, and the hermits are looked down, so can we please just have this selfie day? To celebrate the existence of this fandom? Y’know, since y’all think the 3-Hermits are lame?”

“STOP HAVING SELFIE DAYS YOU ALL ARE UGLY AS FUCK,” Stan Twitt screeched, stomping on the ground like a hissy baby (but that would be a major disrespect to all babies). “FUCK YOU I STAN GOGY!”

“This is so sad,” someone else drawled melodramatically. “Nobody hurts my boyfriend George Not Found. Waaaa waaa.”

“Tbh, you guys are so lameee,” someone spat out, probably thinking they were smart for making a half-assed Heat Waves reference. Nobody could still comprehend how a Dreamnotfound fanfiction became the 2nd most kudosed work on Archive Of Our Own, which was quite the feat when Dream SMP had existed for less than a year. Oh, how had the Universe shifted. 

“Why the fuck did you choose to shift to the 7th? You were perfectly fine before, please let us have our two minutes of fame!” a hermit fan declared. 

“Y’all so bitchless omg,” was the very clever retort. 

“Listen, we don’t mind sharing days, but can you listen to us for one second?” another hermit fan cried out. “We’re overshadowed, and—“

A derisive laugh. “A fandom is overshadowed?! This is MCYT School, shut the fuck up, care about real stuff.”

“It’s. Not. That. Serious.”

“This sounds so stupid to me.”

“Don’t even like Gogy but no.”

“Stop with the selfie days none of you are cute.”

Cub wrinkled his nose. “That’s rude.”

“Why would you call people ugly?” Ren demanded. “Everyone’s gorgeous. Stop making people feel even more insecure.”

“I mean… perhaps both sides are overreacting, but it’s pretty obvious one side is being more vocally toxic,” False pointed out. 

“Who gives a shit about Hermitcraft?!” some person scoffed. The hermit fans gasped, highly offended. Almost immediately, a fan stepped up and drawled, “Listen Grian—”

"Nobody touches my bush. You’re done,” all the other fans continued in unison, creating a rather creepy echoey effect.

“Ohh, they’re gonna rap Hermitgang,” Ren muttered to False. “I’ve forgotten most of my lyrics, embarrassingly enough.”

Herman chuckled. “We can all sing Hermitgang at any given opportunity.” Behind him, the Hermitcraft fans were furiously rapping the lyrics in response to the ignorant person.

“Hermitgang, Hermitgang, Hermitgang,” the fans chanted as the other side booed. The noise was getting louder and louder, and the situation was escalating rapidly. Several bystanders shook their heads, embarrassed. Stan Twitt was hopping up and down and screaming. 

“Stop making a fuss out of this!” Stan screeched. “Like I get you guys are small, and you want a bit of recognition, but just calm down! I mean, if my fandom was treated the same way, we would be pissed off too, just like you guys! Wait, what was the point I was trying to make again?”

Thankfully, there were calmer fans on both sides. “It’s not that serious,” a George fan explained. “Just do your stuff elsewhere. Like at your supposedly-tiny-but-actually-looks-great-classroom. Selfie days clash all the time.”

“Not involved in your fandoms, but communities get overshadowed all the time. It sucks, but we can’t change it.”

“But… aren’t you guys in fandoms for the interaction? Not the recognition.”

“I mean, true,” one of them sobbed. “We create remixes, songs, artwork, fanfiction, and much more. Hermitcraft community is one of the most wholesome I’d been in, but we just— we just—”

“We just want more people to appreciate the hermits!” another burst out. “You’ve been sleeping on them, heck, even saying they’re not part of MCYT, when without them, we wouldn’t have what we have today. Bedwars, TNT Run, so many redstone farms, and—” tears spilled from their eyes, “—and yet they get so little recognition in comparison! We’re sick of it! Can’t you just freakin’ appreciate the hermits?!”

The three hermits shared glances, and decided to step up. They hurried to their upset fans, Herman Blur hot on their heels.

“Hey guys,” Ren said gently. “I understand that this is… distressing and you probably feel angry now, and thank you for defending us, but it’s not worth your energy. Please don’t let it drain you.” His blue eyes were soft and sincere. 

“Yeah, let them have their measly twenty four hours.” False patted the shoulders of her fans. “Hermitcraft has been around since 2012, and we’ve evolved and changed over the years. We have years of history and years to come. We survived all turbulent eras of MCYT, we survived the Minecraft drought, and we survived 3-H. Let them have their precious selfie day, since they don’t have that much time. We’ve been around for literally eight years.” A pause, and False turned to head to glance at Stan Twitt and co. “I’m joking. I’m going to be cancelled again,” she quietly chuckled. 

“It’s okay, we know our worth,” Cub reassured the fans. ‘We know your worth. You’ve been loyally supporting us by watching and commenting on our content. Our community may not be the largest, but we love and support each other, and that’s all that matters.”

“Hey, lemme give you guys a hug,” Ren said with a smile. He tightly wrapped his arms around his crying fans. “There, there.”

“Howdy y’all! Heard you guys were in a crisis, I’m on my way.”

The hermits and their fans looked up, recognizing the voice. “Joe!” they cried out joyfully.

Joe was a calming presence in the fandom. Joe was calm, wise, witty, yet encouraging and caring at the same time. The fans wiped their tears off and giggled softly, probably a bit overwhelmed by how four of the hermits were there.

Joe took out his phone and snapped a selfie. “This is me trying to figure out what a selfie day is.” The fans cheered, delighted.

‘Hermitcraft Western Telegraph thinks that this is an amazing selfie.”

“You’re absolutely stunning, Joe!”

“For someone who doesn’t know what a selfie day is, you certainly did a great job, Hills of the Joe.”

Joe slung an arm around his fans. “It’s like Ren said, it’s not worth your energy. And if you’re feeling especially salty, you can always write a satire fanfiction about Stan Twitter to express yourself creatively.”

“And it’s honestly their loss if they don’t appreciate Hermitcraft,” Herman brightly declared. “At least we know how to properly deal with the toxic side of our fandom, like the Grumbo Stan Army. Some big fandoms just ignore the toxicity or even encourage it.”

“Honestly, thank you for being so passionate and supportive. It really brightens hermits’ days to see you guys.” Cub grinned at the Hermitcraft fans. “You help us pursue our dreams, plus you’re always so patient when we have to take breaks. We appreciate you guys. Really.”

So the Hermitcraft fans decided to do what the hermits had taught them to— stay positive and loving. They encouraged and hugged each other, and rambled about how wonderful their community was. A veteran of the fandom who had left for a while returned, with everybody instantly sobbing how much they missed them. Fan content of the hermits were enthusiastically exchanged, with people writing long essays on how much they loved the hermits and how Hermitcraft would outlast all current trends. The hermits gazed fondly upon their supporters, their hearts warm and full.

Joe turned to the other three hermits. “You guys should go to practice. I’ll stay for a while to make sure they’re okay.”

“Yeah, yeah, good luck hermits!” Herman Blur waved. 

“Good luck!” the fans cried out. “Hermitcraft support!”

“We’re not going to get ninth again!” False laughed. She put her arms around Ren and Cub’s shoulders, and together all three of them went to find Pearl and Fruit.

Why, are you asking me why?

My days and nights are filled with disappointment

Fine, oh no, everything's fine

I'm not sure why I booked today's appointment

The main campus was ugly, with the exception being a few builds that included Noxcrew’s Championship arena and the place the crafters were working on. They found Pearl with the Legates, who were discussing where to expand to. As looked down as the hermits were, at least they had an entire hill to themselves. 3-G were not as lucky, and not to mention they were made out of several crafter groups unlike the hermits who were one huge community. The 3-G people were having an enthusiastic debate on the pros and cons of making taller buildings.

“Do it,” Cub insisted. “Make them taller than the school. For the flex.” The 3-G students laughed, entertained. 

At that point, Pearl could be considered an honorary hermit. She had helped Grian and Xisuma with some of their designs, plus she had been with the hermits in Championships before. 

Several other 3-G crafters were also participating in the 8th Championship. Notably, Martyn and Jimmy, who always participated with each other (like False and Ren). Fwhip was going to be in a team with Joel and two 3-A students, HBomb and Quig. Apparently Fwhip and Joel also had a practice session with their team, so the three hermits and the three 3-G students went to the gym together.  

It was Ren’s first time meeting Joel, so naturally, he started to flirt with him. “Hey Beans, we can make beautiful little babies together,” he joked.

“Oh, I’ve found a nice baby making corner,” Joel played along with a grin. “We can be Beandog.”

“Beandog,” Ren repeated, laughing. “I like the sound of that. Little Beandog babies.”

Pearl and Fwhip shot Joel fake-disgusted looks. “This is what you get up to when Lizzie’s not here?” “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight, Joel.”

Their idle chatter died down when they saw Fruit and H outside the gym. 

“Ooh, Fruit, you’re training the hermits. Nice,” H commented. 

Fruit shrugged, acting casual. “I mean, I’m not gonna be in this Championship. Might as well try to help someone.”

“How about your students Techno and Dream?”

“Ohh, they can surely manage themselves.” Fruit shoved his hands in his pockets. “No need for my training.”

H snorted. “Will be interesting to see the two rivals be on the same team. I wonder how it’ll work out.”

Fruit glanced up. “Weren’t we rivals before? Y’know, maybe we should team up next time,” he said with a hopeful lilt in his tone.

H clapped Fruit on the back. “We’ll see, we’ll see. Gotta get through this Championship first!”

The two teams parted ways as H, Joel, and Fwhip went inside the gym to find Quig. Fruit turned to the Yellow Yaks. “Let’s gooo, guys! It’s practice time!” 

Fruit trained them on their PvP skills and reflexes. It was definitely more effective than when the hermits tried to learn from sparring with each other. Now, with one of the school’s athletic stars as their teacher, they received more specific feedback.

“C’mon, Ren, hit me with all you got!” Fruit declared.

Ren looked slightly apprehensive. “Umm—“

“I’ll be fine,” Fruit told him with a laugh. So Ren threw Fruit a punch. “Nice, but I know you can do better.”

Ren shook his fist and bit his lip. He punched Fruit again.

“Are you holding back because we’re friends? Because you shouldn’t. Come on, I wanna see what you can do.”

With a battle cry, Ren tried again, and this time, Fruit’s eyes lit up. “That’s more like it!” He cheered. “You’re stronger than you know, Ren. Like you literally chop trees every day.”

“Yep, put those muscles to good use!” Cub teased from the sidelines.

“You don’t need to be scared of hurting yourself,” Fruit explained. “So long you have the correct technique, you can use more of your strength.”

Pearl, as a student from the main campus, was required to undergo training. As a result, she had more experience than the three hermits.

“It’s not fair,” Pearl remarked, “how the only way for hermits to get back to the main campus is through a Championship, and yet you don’t get any official help from the school.”

“Yeah, they just want a bunch of people to look down at, to be honest,” Cub said. “Like people can go ‘at least I’m not the hermits’. Someone has to be at the bottom of the social hierarchy.”

“At least we’re not those players who rage every time something doesn’t go their way,” False quipped, and everyone laughed.

Fruit led the Yaks in trying out the parkour course next. To everyone’s surprise, Pearl did pretty well. When the hermits gaped at her, Pearl smiled a little, and shrugged. “Totally not been practicing parkour for the past two months.”

“Have you finished it?”

“Yeah, I’m missing two levels.”

“Dang!” Ren looked impressed. “So this is the power of practice!”

“Yeahh, the only way to get better at parkour is through practicing,” Fruit said. “Factors like agility and nimbleness do contribute, but just like everything else, practice matters the most.”

“You must spend a lot of time practicing then,” Cub said, “since you’re like, a god.”

Fruit laughed. “I try, I try.”

“Fruit, don’t be so humble, dude!” Ren exclaimed. “You’re crazy talented.”

Fruit didn’t know how to respond to compliments, so he just smiled and continued to teach the Yaks. That was his way of thanking the Yaks.

They rested for a bit after parkour, then went to the school’s shooting range. Ren was the most excited out of the five, mainly because he wanted everyone to see how good False and Cub were at shooting.

“Stop it, Ren,” Cub hit Ren’s shoulder, a little embarrassed. “I’m no good at shooting moving targets.”

Indeed, when it came to shooting the moving dummies, False was clearly the best shot out of the four. With two hands grasping the air gun and blue eyes narrowed at the target, False looked intimidating, especially to Cub and Ren who had long known her as “the queen of hearts”. False’s fingers swiftly pressed the trigger, and the BB bullet slammed into the dummy’s chest. Everybody cheered, with Ren screaming, “LET’S GO FALSIE!”

“You have pretty good reflexes, False,” Fruit noted. “I was going to comment on that when we dueled, but I think the thing is, you’re a careful person. You tend to hesitate, which can be why you can be eliminated by opponents weaker than you. But when you’re not in danger, like here,” he gestured to the dummies, “I can really see your reflexes shine. Go for it, False. You can do it.”

Cub was struggling, mainly because he was used to the static targets in Targét. He huffed, frustrated. The disparity between his low accuracy rate and the highscores he got on his minigames was upsetting him. He shot again, but none of them hit. Upon seeing this, Fruit hurried over.

“Don’t forget to breathe, Cub,” Fruit reminded him. “Take your time.”

“I have been, but I keep on missing.” Cub sighed, and glanced at his gun.

“Your shoulders are tense,” Fruit noted. “Also, you should switch up your position a little so your arms can be more comfortable.” He nudged Cub into position while continuing to give him advice.

A little further away, Ren was determinedly practicing his shooting skills. He kept on missing, but he wasn’t going to let that discourage him. Since Fruit was busy teaching Cub, Ren decided to ask False for help, but then he heard False and Pearl talking. 

“... honestly I’m not that good of a PvPer,” Ren heard False admit, her voice slightly covered by the sound of bullets hitting the dummies. “It’s just that I’m better than other hermits… and they all look up to me…”

“Maybe it’s like what Fruit said!” Pearl replied. “Trust yourself a little more!”

False sighed. “I’m trying… but sometimes I feel like I’m larger than life and overrated…”

Upon hearing that, Ren faltered. He and the other hermits had always asked False for help when it came to PvP, and False had always happily obliged, but… had they ever thought of the pressure they unintentionally imposed on her? False had her reputation, but did it stress her out to uphold it?

… Now Ren wondered if the hermits’ praises for False also contributed to that. Ren thought they were being encouraging, but were they pushing False’s limits? Placing the burden on False’s shoulders alone? It was the last thing Ren wanted. It wasn’t fair for others to depend on her so much. 

And actually, Ren thought Fruit was right about False. If only she was more confident… but could the hermits could give her that confidence? Had they been admiring her for so long the compliments felt stale? And what if their encouragements accidentally sounded like expectations? 

His brain was stuffed with unpleasant thoughts and Ren wanted a break, so he said bye to his friends and walked away. He exhaled, and tried to restabilize himself. 

It was all okay. They were okay. He was okay. 

(He thought about how False said that to Pearl, not him or Cub. She shared that with the non-hermit.)

“Okay, Ren, stop being freakin stupid and overreacting to freakin everything,” Ren furiously muttered to himself. He paced up and down the corridor. “Geez! Just be… a good friend! It’s not hard!”

Sudden voices interrupted Ren’s train of thought, and Ren recognized the voices. One was H, the other Fwhip. It seemed like the Aqua Axolotls were coming over. 

“... and actually, the hermits aren’t half bad.”

“YEAH! Fwhip, you would know, you teamed with them before.”

Ren didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but hey, it wasn’t his fault HBomb was loud!

“I’m a little scared of False when I face her in PvP, actually,” came H’s boisterous voice. “She’s the X factor for the Yellow Yaks this time. If she does well, the Yaks will definitely get a boost.”

“False is genuinely good with a gun.”

“I know right! I’ve been rewatching some of the Championship footage and she definitely can pop off.”

You know that feel when people you admire insult you behind your back? Well, Ren just experienced the complete opposite of that. Ren knew he really shouldn’t be listening, but it felt nice that H and Fwhip were saying that without the intention of False ever knowing. Like they weren’t saying it to be nice to False. They honestly thought False was good. And that was both reassuring and heartwarming. 

The Aqua Axolotls went around a corner and saw Ren. Ren stood there, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Oh, hey Ren!” Fwhip was quick to greet them. He shared sheepish looks with H. “So… uhh… you heard us?”

Ren could only nod. “Umm, sorry, didn’t mean to. But it’s great to hear that you guys think that way about False! She’s the PvP legend of Hermitcraft.”

Fwhip smiled. “So I’ve heard.”

H raised an eyebrow. “So I haven’t heard. Do tell me more.”

“Everyone’s scared of her in 3-H,” Ren laughed. “Like she has these lightning quick reflexes. One time Grian tried to tag her but she spun around so quickly she nearly knocked him to the ground. She saved multiple hermits (mostly me, because I’m a derp) from tripping and falling in ponds. And she’s terrifying with guns. You should’ve seen her go crazy at UHCs, man.”

“I didn’t know she’s the PvP queen in your class,” H said. “I just thought she’s good from watching the old footage…”

That pleased Ren. “It’s great to know that main campus students also feel that way about Falsie. Like I think she’s been worrying she’s only good by hermit standards.”

H and Ren enthusiastically exchanged more compliments about False, both excited someone agreed with them. H noticed the rest of his team looked slightly awkward, and cleared his throat.

“Well, that was a nice chat,” Ren hastily said, not meaning to bother H’s team. “I’ll definitely tell False what you said.”

To Ren’s surprise, the conversation didn’t end there. H turned to the rest of the Axolotls and asked, “Would you mind if I give the hermits some help?”

“Oh, sure!” Fwhip was quick to agree, almost too quick. “I mean.... I want to stop the prejudice against hermits and the crafters’ community! And we’re friends!”

“3-GH solidarity!” Joel exclaimed. “Gotta support the crafters.”

The three turned to Quig, whom Ren was slightly apprehensive about. Quig had done nothing wrong, but Ren knew he was a 3-A student and one of the top 5 students. The five S-tiers, or DTPQF, consisted of Dream, Techno, Pete, Quig, and Fruit. Two of them, Pete and Fruit, were nice to the hermits. Dream seemed indifferent, and Techno seemed indifferent to all hermits except everybody’s favourite bread boi Grian. Quig was the only one left. Did he think the hermits were lame? Or was he like the rest of the Aqua Axolotls team? 

Quig shrugged, calm and chill. “Sure, it’s about time the hermits do better. Just don’t steal our first place,” he joked. “I hope you can get into Dodgebolt, but let us win.”

Ren scratched his head. “Getting to Dodgebolt is our dream, but for now, we’re aiming for seventh,” he confessed. “And I dunno, it feels wrong for you to help us since you’re also participating…”

“It’s like Quig said, just don’t steal our first place.” H grinned at Ren. “And for some of us, the Championships aren’t all about winning. We just want to have fun. Now, where are you guys practicing?”

When Ren returned, False definitely wasn’t expecting him to bring more people with him. She might’ve expected Fwhip, but she wasn’t expecting the entire Aqua Axolotls team. Even Fruit looked surprised.

“Hope you don’t mind if we practice next to you!” Quig called out. “Sure,” Pearl responded, bemused.  

Out of the four Axolotls, H was the most eager one. Quig, Joel, and Fwhip mostly stayed in their corner, occasionally making small chitchat with the Yaks, but H was determined to join Fruit and become the Yaks’ second “sensei”. H continuously complemented the hermits, False in particular, and False raised her eyebrows. She was flattered, but also a little overwhelmed. Something seemed fishy. So when H was talking with Fruit, False pulled Ren aside. “Okay, what did you say to H?” she demanded.

“He kinda forced his way in!” Ren replied, a little spooked by False. “I overheard him talking about how good you can be, and we chatted for a bit, and boom! He’s here.”

False crossed her arms and glared at Ren. “Okay, so he really thinks I’m good?”

Ren gave her a look. “Duh?” Then he amended his tone. “No pressure though,” he hurriedly added.

“... That’s nice to hear.” False wanted to believe in H and Fruit and the Yaks, but she wasn’t sure if she could live up to that. Of course False wanted to improve, and she was taking steps to improve, but maybe… being optimistic would disappoint her. After all, her team had placed ninth two times in a row.

H wasn’t with the Yaks and Fruit for long, and H didn’t do much except for boosting their spirits, but the Yaks appreciated it. As False dutifully aimed again and again at the test dummy in front of her, she found it fascinating to hear Ren and H converse. They didn’t know each other before the Championships, but to any outsider, they felt like old friends. H and Ren were both extremely positive and wholesome, and were convinced all their team members would do better than them (liars). False would almost call them effortlessly wholesome, but she knew while they sounded effortless, it was actually pretty difficult. Anyways, it was awesome that Ren finally found someone who could encourage him in the way he encouraged others. Ren brought him down so aggressively that even False and Cub were at a loss sometimes, but H could bring Ren up even more aggressively. 

Too bad they didn’t get to spend much time together. H had his own team to train. And the hermits were all busy, so they only managed to have one practice session with Fruit.

And so the 8th Championship inched closer and closer.

Cub ambled down to the main campus. Cub didn’t have anything to do, he just wanted to be up to date with the news in the community. Being on a (confessedly very cool and pretty) hill distanced you from everyone and everything.

There was a huge notice board, and Cub peered at it, privately thinking the Hermiton Herald did a much better job at reporting news (Cub knew he was biased, but oh well). But something caught his eye— it was a rough sketch of him and the other Yellow Yaks in… cute yellow jackets? Next to that sketch were also numerous drawings of other team uniforms.

“Ahh, the tailors are getting into the Championship,” Cub muttered to himself. They were probably inspired by the matching jackets the Orange Piglets wore in the 7th Championship, and were eager to show their support by making outfits in hopes their favourite teams would wear them. It was nice to know that the Yellow Yaks had fans even though three of them were in the “lame” 3-H. 

Cub peered at the sketch that had originally caught his eye. There were three designs; one with a yak logo, one with the initials of the team members, and one that spelled out “YAKS”. There was a note attached to it that said: “Saw that the Championship teams were out, so I decided to make outfit concepts for the Yellow Yaks! I couldn’t decide on one design though… so here’s all 3 xD. These were honestly really fun to design. Anyways, if anyone’s interested in using any of these, feel free to hit me up and find me in the studio! I’ll make these outfits real quick for you. FoxyNinjaBear (or just Foxy).”

“That’s cute,” Cub commented with a grin. He snapped a photo of it and sent it to the other Yaks, waiting for their opinion. He always knew the tailors were active in the school (Grian even took a fashion design course in his second year), but he didn’t expect them to be involved in the Championship. 

Cub: Hey, wanna wear something nice for the Championship?

Cub: [attachment]

Ren: Ooh! Sweet! :D

Ren: I like the YAKS design <3

Pearl: Ohh that’s on the notice board? Lol i dont really go to that part of the campus

Pearl: should check that more often :P

Ren: so we’re commissioning them?

Cub: yeah if everyone is cool with it

Cub: ...False?

Pearl: cub are you still there? Im coming over

Cub: yep

There were a few minutes of silence, then Cub’s phone vibrated again.

False: oooh yeah that’s cute! I agree with the YAKS one

Pearl: yas yaks!!  

False: sorry for replying late, i was in a boat with zed

False: dont ask

Ren: (they thought it was a good idea to flood a piece of land for no reason)

False: dont. ask.

Ren: falsie and i will come down so we can visit the studio together?

Cub: yeah, sounds great!

The Yaks assembled at the notice board, and walked to the school’s studio. The studio was one of the nicer looking places in the main campus, probably because of the abundance of creativity. Mannequins were dressed in half-finished outfits, and sketches and mood boards were plastered on the concrete walls. Students who designed clothes, or “tailors” as they were referred to, hurried between work benches, clutching rolls of colourful fabrics, their fingers covered with chalk. The room was filled with chatter and the hum of sewing machines. It was a busy, productive and creative space, and it had an atmosphere the Yaks were familiar with. Except their expertise laid in architecture (and redstone machinery, for Cub’s case), and they felt a little lost and overwhelmed (in a good way, like the way you would feel when you entered Scar’s magical village and had no idea where to focus on first.)

The Yaks shuffled around the studio, and felt pairs of eyes on them. No doubt several tailors had offered to design outfits for them, and were wondering which tailor the Yaks had chosen. It was flattering that they had multiple fans.

Cub quickly found Foxy, whose designs the Yaks liked the most. “Hi Foxy, we’d love to use version three of the design, the one with the “YAKS”, for the 8th Championship. It’ll be great if you can make the jackets!”

Foxy looked up, brown hair falling over her shoulders. “Yes, of course! So happy to hear that you guys wanna use them!”

Foxy quickly measured the Yaks and promised to send them the jackets a few days before the 8th Championship. 

“We seem so professional and official now with the uniforms,” Pearl mused out loud.

Ren chuckled. “It’s like we’re a sports team! Yellow Yaks gonna kick your butt!”

“Oh yeah,” False joined in, smirking. 

“Oh yeahhh,” Cub cheered. “We’re the cream of the crop!”

Now with their team outfits in good hands, the Yellow Yaks’ morale was boosted. And they felt like fighting even if the entire world was against them.

'Cause I've been so good, I've been working my ass off

I've been so good, still, I'm lonely and stressed out

I've been so good, I've been so good this year

And I've been so good, but it's still getting harder

I've been so good, where the hell is the karma?

The days slipped past and soon it was the night before the 8th Championship. The Yellow Yaks met up for dinner and to briefly discuss their strategy and goals. 

The hermits didn’t find the time to practice, but Pearl went to the parkour course practically every day, so Pearl hoped Parkour Warrior would be chosen. (Parkour was the hermits’ least favourite game and none of them wanted to play parkour.)

False was a little worried, but hey, they did practice, even if just for a bit. Plus all four of them had participated in Championships before and had learned from their previous experiences. With Fruit and H’s advice ringing in their heads, they would surely perform better. 

“Seventh is what we’re aiming for. Just better than eighth, alright dudes?” Ren laughed, but it only intensified his faintly desperate tone. 

“Better than eighth,” Pearl and Cub repeated, both nodding. 

“We’ll prove everyone wrong,” Pearl vowed, determined. “Everyone in the community has been putting us as ninth or tenth.”

False winced internally. She wasn’t surprised, but it still stung. After all, they were the hermit team. And of course everyone thought the hermits sucked.

“Really?” Ren gaped, blue eyes wide.

Pearl managed to laugh, slightly awkward. “So. Yeah! We’re gonna get better than that!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cub echoed.

Ren looked around, a frown on his face. They could hear him pause as he searched for words to express himself without sounding too negative. “I mean, talk about getting a stab in the back by the community!” He tried to keep his tone light, but everyone could hear the hurt in his voice. It was just like Ren to attempt to sound funny and unbothered— too bad his true feelings were still painfully obvious. He slammed his glass on the table. “Damn!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. We’re a bit more competitive than they realized,” Pearl soothed them.

“Yeah, we practiced, didn’t we? And they’re just underestimating and looking down on us like they always do,” False stated firmly. She wasn’t going to let the community and MCC Reddit and their stupid predictions drag her team down. 

The Yellow Yaks had Fruit and H, two famous 3-A students, as their mentors. They had multiple fans who were willing to design team outfits for them. False thought about the Hermitcraft fans being upset that their selfie day was overshadowed. If something as small as that got them worked up, they must have been burying their frustration for so long. And they were angry on behalf of the hermits, because the hermits were so “underappreciated”. People supported them, people wanted them to do good. So many people believed in them, so they should believe in themselves, right?

The words slipped out of False’s mouth. “And if we work hard, I promise all four of us will even get into Dodgebolt one day. Maybe not with the four of us together in a team, but we will get there.”

The three of them laughed. “Yeah, nothing’s impossible,” Cub said. “Even if it sounds impossible.”

“To Dodgebolt we go!” Pearl whooped.

“But for now, we’re aiming for seventh,” Ren declared.  “One step at a time, dudes.” Ren looked happier now, having recovered from the news that everyone predicted they would be last.

And so on that humid summer night, the Yellow Yaks made two promises.

The first was to get anything above eighth place.

The second was that all four of them would get into Dodgebolt eventually. 

Things were finally looking up for the hermits and the Yellow Yaks. They were confident they could end their streak of getting ninth. They gazed at each other, hearts full and hopeful, and raised their glasses to the moon, huge beams on their face. 

But what they didn’t know was that tomorrow, the Yellow Yaks would be completely massacred.

The universe works in mysterious ways

But I'm starting to think it ain't working for me

Doctor, should I be good?

Should I be good this year?

Chapter Text

In youth you'd lay

Awake at night and scheme

Of all the things that you would change

But it was just a dream…

The 8th Championship started with False trying to get everyone in line, despite Ren being the one with the catchphrase “ladies (and gentlemen and everybody), get in line!”. 

“Yas team!” False cheered, hyped.

“You mean, Yaks team,” Pearl quipped.

“Earlier on it was just Cub and me,” Ren said. “We were team AS, which is also an animal, but not the one we would like to be.” 

“Probably not Foxy’s intention when she made our outfits,” Cub remarked.

“Serious talk, team,” Ren continued, “If you take a look at the leaderboard, I took a photo because this is the only time we’re ever going to be third.”

The Yaks all turned to look, and indeed, due to their team colour, the Yaks were sitting in third. All of them laughed at the self-deprecating joke. They quickly took selfies, then returned to talking about their strategy. As they had agreed last night, they were aiming for seventh. 

There was a larger crowd than usual, which was due to the massive clout Dream and Techno had. The Yaks still felt a little bad for the other two members of Pink Parrots, because Michael and Burren genuinely weren’t bad and would not “drag down” the team (not that they believed any player would drag down anyone). Stan Twitt was standing tall and proud on the stage, decked out in full pink gear. False thought she saw Stan look at them, and felt shivers down her spine. That moment quickly passed, and False didn’t think much about it. Stan Twitt was always creepy and weird.

The Yaks didn’t want Skyblockle, since as Ren put it, they “had no idea what the heck was going on” and it was a PvP oriented game. But after seeing what other people were voting for, they went for Parkour Warrior to get it out of the way. 

Parkour was pain as usual, with Pearl and False managing to get up to 5-3, with Cub stuck at 4-1 and Ren at 3-3.

“NOO! I was so close!” came Ren’s distraught voice from their communicators as False and Pearl struggled with 5-1. “Cub, you and I are stuck on the stupid glass panes!”

“Hi False,” a panting Pearl greeted her when False finally got past 5-1. “Damn, this is hard, and I practiced it.”

So False and Pearl were stuck on one level together, Cub and Ren stuck in the same one a few levels behind them. All of them groaned about the unfairness of Parkour and became a little disheartened. 

“Man, I’m disappointed in myself,” Cub mumbled. False winced.

“Cub, I feel your pain, dude.” There was silence as Ren presumably focused on something. “You and me, Cub, we’re letting down the girls today.”

False furrowed her eyebrows. She turned around, but couldn’t see the guys. “Where are you?”

“Don’t ask, don’t ask,” was Ren’s pain-filled reply.

False edged herself past 5-2, and exhaled, her arms trembling. Steady beeps came from her ear radio, telling her there were twenty seconds left.

“Well, I’m so glad we don’t have to do this again!” Ren burst out, and False laughed. It wasn’t even to mask the pain; it was just that they were so bad at parkour it was funny.

“Oh, I got past that one with ten seconds to spare!” Cub’s joyous voice came from the radio.

“Nice one, Cub!” Ren cheered. “You beautiful, beautiful man.”

False dragged herself up to a platform and sat down, ignoring the seconds ticking down. She knew she wouldn’t make it past 5-3, so why waste her energy? Pearl was still desperately trying, her voice getting increasingly more and more frantic. 

The game ended, and Pearl whined. “I was right there at the next checkpoint!” she exclaimed. “Noo!”

False hurried over to Pearl and hugged her despite both of them being sweaty. Pearl covered her face with her hands. “That went so bad!” she cried out in a tiny voice.

The girls met up with Ren and Cub, with Ren being thankful they didn’t have to deal with parkour again. “So Pearl, how did all of that practice turn out for you there?” Ren asked.

Pearl lifted her head to glare at Ren. “It was fine,” she answered in an intense way that everyone knew it wasn’t fine at all.

False jokingly hit Ren. “Wow, rubbing it in.”

“I hate the glass pane one,” Pearl muttered. “It threw me off so much.” She shrugged False’s arm off so she could grab her water bottle.

There was a slight pause. “The thing is, it’s completely different when the pressure’s on,” Ren commented. 

“Yup,” Cub nodded.

“Like, we did okay with Fruity, but now that we’re actually in the Championship…” Ren subconsciously rubbed his arms. “Yeah.”

“Ahhh, I feel so distraught!” Pearl rambled passionately, not over her performance in Parkour Warrior. “I practiced for so long, like literally every day, and I still got stuck… heck, I even asked the main campus teachers for help...”

Pearl looked legitimately disappointed, and the hermits shared concerned glances. 

“At least we can focus on the events we enjoy now, since we got the worst one out of the way!” Ren said with a grin. Trust Ren to keep being optimistic despite the circumstances.

Pearl managed to smile, and exhaled, tension leaving her shoulders. “Yup, gotta forget about that stupid parkour.”

The second game, Hole in the Wall, was a pretty standard game by the hermits’ standards, except Pearl and Ren popped off in the final round.

“How are we still alive, Ren?” Pearl wheezed as False and Cub shouted wall directions from above.

“I have no idea!” Ren replied as he frantically dashed to a hole.

False gazed at her friends, impressed. “You guys are killing it!”

“Don’t panic, everything’s fine, everything’s fine!” Ren chanted to himself as the wall speed increased. He and Pearl ducked and crawled through holes with not a second to spare. “Oh geez! Hold me mama!”

Ren was knocked off, and Pearl gasped. “How-how did I survive?!”

“Yes Pearl!” Cub cried from the sidelines as False helped Ren up. 

“I’m panicking! I’m panicking!” Pearl screeched. There were only four players still alive. Pearl was among the top four players of that round. So long had the Yaks wanted to do good, but now that they were actually getting higher ranks, they just freaked out. 

Pearl fell off soon, but the Yaks were ecstatic. “We’re ninth, dude!” False cried out happily. (Funny how they were so happy with their “cursed” ninth place.)

Ren embraced a beaming Pearl. “Nicely done, dudes! We pulled it back in the end! I like we’re so excited with ninth, by the way.”

“We’re not tenth!” False declared. “We basically won!”

“We’re in line with the community placings though,” Pearl reminded them, and their hearts sank a little.

Cub shrugged. “Well, we gotta celebrate the little achievements we have.”

So with their spirits lifted, the Yellow Yaks walked to the Decision Dome to vote for the third game. They wanted Ace Race, but it seemed like the odds weren’t in their favour. The Yaks watched with bated breath as the screen flickered. The rest of the teams all had their eyes on the screen, nervously murmuring among themselves.

Then bold letters appeared, spelling out “Battle Box”. The PvP game that the Yaks were simply terrible at. Oh, well.

False’s stomach twisted. Cub was sitting on the floor, still exhausted by Hole in the Wall and Parkour Warrior. Pearl just sighed and crossed her arms. They didn’t say it, but they all thought they had lost the battle before it began. Ren saw the worried looks on his friends’ faces, and decided to speak up.

“Falsie and I did pretty good in our first time, which was a few Championships ago, but I think we got this dudes!” Ren said brightly.

… It was always Ren who managed to make a bad situation look good without fail. He was the most vocal and supportive member on the team, and False honestly didn’t know what they would do without him.

Stan Twitt was cackling and giggling, and False shot a look at Pink Parrots. As expected, they were pumping their fists in the air, happy that a PvP game was chosen. False turned away, trying to shake off the odd unpleasant feeling in her gut. 

False could only hope Ren was right.

(Spoiler alert: he wasn’t— but it was the thought that counted.)

Farewell, I've gone to take my throne above

But don't weep for me

'Cause this will be the labor of my love

Technoblade and his team were beyond excited for Battle Box. Their many fans squealed in joy, desperate to see the PvP masters, the legendary rivals Dream and Techno excel. The four roared, lusting for blood. 

A strange atmosphere descended upon all of them, but it wasn’t a… bad atmosphere. They were fucking confident like they had never been before. Their hands were itching for combat. They wanted to taste blood. They wanted to kill everybody in their way. And they didn’t just want it, they would do it. 

“BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!” Stan Twitt screamed for all its worth. Stan seemed to be closely following Pink Parrots (because they were the Winner’s POV, duh.) With Stan Twitt’s support, Technoblade felt absurd adrenaline and confidence gush into his veins, and he was sure his teammates felt the same. Nothing could go wrong. They were going to win and everyone knew it. Techno had never felt like that before. It was almost a little worrying, but screw it, this was their anime moment. When the rivals teamed up to defeat their bigger rival. Plot armour would save them all. 

“Techno! Dream!”

A familiar voice from above. Fruitberries, their sensei, stared down at them, grinning and waving. Of course Fruit was spectating. “Good luck!” he called out.

Dream chuckled. “Thanks Fruit, but we won’t need it.” Michael and Burren hooted, while Techno merely smiled at Fruit. 

“Ohh, we’re going up against Team Hermitcraft,” Burren casually stated as he and his team geared up for their first round of Battle Box.

“Oh, that’s an easy dub,” Micheal responded cheerfully, polishing his blade. 

Everybody burst into boisterous, hysterical laughter. Everyone knew the hermits were downright shitty in PvP, so it should be a piece of cake to get them. It was so fucking easy, it was pathetic and almost sad. Almost. 

Techno stared at them across the field. He recognized a girl with beige hair, cheerfully talking with her teammates. He had seen her practicing for parkour literally every day. He recognized two other hermits (whom he still didn’t know the name of despite seeing them in every Championship), the brunet guy and the Female Hermit. There was also another guy who was probably a hermit. Someone called Cubfan. Techno snorted. He only knew about the hermits through Grian, and Grian was the only builder he actually knew. 

It was nice that people stopped beating up the hermits. Techno still didn’t know shit about them though. It was disappointing that the hermits were still getting bottom ten. Techno actually thought they might’ve improved, but nope. They were still bad at the Championship. Sad. 

Techno looked up and saw Stan Twitt smirking. His eyes met with Stan’s, and Techno blinked. There was something nagging at the back of his brain. Above them, Fruit looked slightly… worried for some reason.  

“Huh, the hermits are somehow still trying to win the Championship.”

“Let’s be real, I’ll be surprised if they get 8th.”

“Not to sound mean, but they’re not good. Actually, I would just say they’re bad.” A cackle. “They get points for trying though.” 

“I wonder how long they can survive.”

“Geez, can they even stand up after their fight with us?”

More laughter. Techno suddenly felt ill. Why were his friends suddenly so… aggressive? Like they were drunk on hubris even though the game hadn’t even started? This wasn’t like them at all. And suddenly, the Blood God was scared. Techno snuck a look at Dream, who was smirking as he impatiently tapped his foot on the ground. Techno, for seemingly no reason, was fucking scared. 

But that thought vanished as quickly as it came. Why should he be worried? The hermits were legitimately easy kills, nothing but cannon fodder.

In the corner of his eye, Techno saw Fruit cheer for the hermits, and that uneasiness intensified. But that was quickly overshadowed by Stan Twitt’s feral screeching. 

“PINK PARROTS UWU! RIVALSTWT UWU! YASS TEAM!”

Techno took a deep breath and readied his sword. “The hermits are my kills. Don’t touch them.”

(Techno didn't know why he felt compelled to say that. It just felt right.)

Dream guffawed. “Getting greedy, aren’t you Techno? Wanna steal my first place?” he playfully taunted.

Techno frowned, and once again stared at the hermits. They were just standing there, chatting, minding their own business, blissfully oblivious to trash talking happening on the other side. 

“Blood for the Blood God,” Techno muttered ominously. “Don’t get in my way.” His teammates snickered, thinking he was joking. Techno would like to think he was, but his thoughts and feelings were getting jumbled up. 

He was just joking, right? He had to be.

“You’ll have to compete with us though. C’mon, everyone wants free kills.”

“I bet the hermits will just fall even if we push them slightly.”

Techno wanted to tell them they shouldn’t be too harsh on the hermits. They should conserve their energy since the hermits were weak. It was Techno’s way of doing things. But somehow, the words never left his mouth.

“Three…”

Techno sighed. He didn’t know why he was so confused and torn. It was simple. Find the hermits, kill them, and win. 

“Two…”

Kill the hermits. It was just that simple.

“One!”

The gates opened, and with battle cries, the Pink Parrots charged. Before Techno attacked, he glanced one final time at the spectator stands.

… Stan Twitt’s smile was starting to look a little sinister.

Techno quickly picked up a “damage potion” (which was just a harmless water balloon) and saw one of the Yaks (the brunet guy) charge towards him. Techno could sense his other teammates were going for kills. He wondered how hard his teammates would hit the hermits. Hopefully not too hard. It was unfair to be so aggressive towards people who were way weaker than them.

(Techno had just suddenly realized the beige haired girl was not a hermit. He felt a little bad for grouping them together, even though 3-G was just slightly higher than 3-H in the hierarchy.)

Brunet guy tried to hit him, and Techno weighed the water balloon in his hands. It was too easy to defeat this guy. Techno heard swords clash and bullets meeting their targets. And then-

A female scream.

The brunet guy’s eyes widened. “Falsie!” He instantly looked away from Techno and ran towards his friend. Techno raised his sword. With his target distracted, it really was too easy. 

But at that moment, Techno hesitated.

Nobody else would know, because their reflexes weren’t fast enough. It was so quick that no one would catch it.

But Techno knew.

The real question was: why?

Maybe the guy sounded genuinely worried for the False girl. Maybe Techno naively wanted to see the hermits do slightly better. Maybe he wanted to see them save each other. 

But Techno wasn’t going to let the hermits run free. Oh no, oh no, oh no. That wasn’t the way of the Blood God.

Techno just generously gave them a chance. A little head start since Techno would catch them in the end.

Techno watched as the brunet guy ran. Suddenly, Burren popped up, his sword aiming for the brunet guy’s unprotected neck. And Techno acted faster than one could blink.

Techno seized the brunet guy’s collar with one hand, and used the other to toss the damage pot at his chestplate. The water balloon erupted, and the health bars on the brunet guy’s suit went down. Techno let go, and the panting guy stumbled to his feet. Considering he didn’t instantly collapse on the ground, Techno thought he didn’t hurt the hermit too much. “Renthedog was killed using magic by Technoblade!” came the commentator’s voice.

“Aww, you stole my kill!” Burren exclaimed, sounding hurt.

“It was my kill in the first place,” Techno replied darkly, but Burren laughed it off, thinking it was some edgy roleplay.

Bullets peppered Techno’s back. The beige haired girl was shooting them. “She’s my kill,” Burren announced. Techno spun to see the other guy, the Cubfan person, with a sword. Cub dealt Techno some damage, but alas, Cub just wasn’t fast enough. Techno was having a happy time hitting Cub’s chestplate, lowering his virtual health bit by bit, when suddenly Burren slammed him into the ground. Cub winced, and Techno watched as his virtual health drained to zero. “Cubfan135 was slain by King Burren!” the commentator’s voice boomed. “Pink Parrots win! Well played!”

“What did I say about stealing my kills?” Techno complained. He didn’t know why he was so annoyed.

“Sorry boss, but you can’t have everything,” Burren drawled. “I got two of them! Nice!”

Behind Burren was the beige haired girl, also lying on the ground, rubbing her arm. Techno scanned the area. The brunet guy was helping the blonde girl walk, while their two other teammates sat there, utterly exhausted. Techno stepped closer to the beige haired girl, but she flinched. Oh right, they were scared of him. 

Cub pushed himself up, then hurried to the beige haired girl. “C’mon Pearl, let’s go,” he mumbled. The Pearl person let Cub help her up, and they stumbled away.

… If the hermits didn’t want Technoblade near them, they might as well leave. To not scare them further. Or whatever. Techno didn’t care. 

“Let’s go get some drinks,” Techno announced. Dream looked up. “Already? One round and you’re tired?”

Thankfully, the oblivious Michael backed him up. “Yeah, feeling kinda thirsty. We still have loads of time before the next round.”

“To the vending machines we go!” Techno declared. He quickly walked away from the hermits, gesturing for his teammates to follow. 

Techno instinctively looked at the spectator stands again. Stan looked utterly proud and delighted, and waved when their eyes met with Techno’s. Techno smiled in return, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. When the Parrots exited the arena, they saw Fruit.

Fruit greeted the Parrots, and brushed past Techno. “Thanks, Techno. I know what you did,” he whispered, then walked away like nothing had happened.

Techno froze. If there was one person quick enough to catch that, it was Fruit.

Techno spun, but Fruit was already nowhere to be seen.

I've learned to slam on the brake

Before I even turn the key

Before I make the mistake

Before I lead with the worst of me

False had wanted to stay behind with a gun during Battle Box. She simply felt more comfortable staying away from people. Ren and Cub would charge. They swiftly discussed tactics, but they didn’t have much time before the gate was raised.

False stayed in her corner, raising her gun. Fruit and HBomb both said she was good, and they knew a lot about PvP, so False should trust them and herself, right? They had confidence in her. She would be optimistic like Ren.

Fruit’s voice echoed in her mind. “Go for it, False. You can do it.” False bit her lip, and aimed at Dream. He hit her before she could hit him, and she stumbled backwards, right arm aching. 

Don’t be scared, False! She scolded herself. She was the best PvPer in her team, and she felt a little guilty for not being the “tank”. She just preferred being sneaky and not being on the front lines. To avoid Dream’s bullets, she retreated, which was probably not the best decision because she was now trapped.

Dream charged with surprising speed, and fear crept into False’s heart. He gleefully swung his sword at her, and False wanted to parry it. She was capable, wasn’t she? Dream may be a Green God, and one of the school’s best students, but False could at least defend herself for a bit, right?

False gritted her teeth. She was Hermitcraft’s PvP Queen and the title didn’t come easy. She would show it to everyone—

But when Dream cornered her, she faltered.

His sword crashed into her left shoulder, and she winced. She slammed against a wall and Dream continued to approach, his eyes filled with an unnatural amount of bloodlust. He lifted his sword again.

And suddenly False felt like she was back to where she was a few months ago, when Dream eliminated her in Survival Games and she had a horrible headache, and then the bullies attacked her and her friends and she fainted and Cub was forced to use a taser and so False could only stand there, her body frozen—

She couldn’t help it. She screamed.

Dream attacked, and False ducked, but his sword stabbed into the wall behind her. A few strands of blonde hair fluttered to the ground, and False’s heart pounded, blood rushing in her ears.

Maybe Dream would be merciful. Maybe he would just hit her chest plate and leave her alone when he got the points. But apparently that was not the case.

Dream knocked False to the ground, her left arm colliding painfully with the wood. She tried to stand up, but Dream relentlessly hit her legs, and she fell down again, scraping her knees. She scrambled for her airgun. Dammit, just kill me already!

False had no idea what happened next, only a mess of pain and dodging and a mosaic of grey and brown. The commentator said something… she thought she heard her name… everything was in a blur. Her forehead hit something and she crumpled to the ground, chest heaving. Her airgun slipped out of her grasp. Her left arm throbbed, and she knew it was terribly bruised.

She glanced up at Dream, who towered over her. Thankfully Dream had stopped attacking, the bloodlust slowly seeping away from his eyes. He stretched out an arm—

False instinctively backed away, her head hitting the wall so hard it rang. Wasn’t Dream done? Why was he going to hurt her again? 

So much for being good at PvP, False bitterly reminded herself. Now you’re just running away like a coward.

“FALSIE!”

Ren dashed towards her, concern evident in his face. “Oh goodness. Can you stand?” He saw Dream, and snarled. “Get away from her,” he ordered in an uncharacteristically hostile voice.

Dream blinked, his aggressiveness gone. “Sure,” he casually said, and sauntered away.

False let Ren help her up, and they retreated to their side of the arena. Cub and Pearl followed, scratches and bruises littering their skin.

“That was brutal,” Pearl muttered. “They’re so good at PvP.”

“Yeah, I got knocked to the ground,” Cub sighed. “Ren, how about you?”

Ren worriedly glanced at his teammates. “I-actually I’m fine,” he admitted. “Techno got me with a damage pot, which is the least painful way to die.”

“Good for you,” False groaned, her entire body still hurting. ‘Dream got me again. He came straight for me, and I was like, ‘okay’.”

Yeah, you literally gave up. Shame on you, a furious voice hissed inside her head.

“Erm, no offence, but you look pretty battered up.” Ren pointed out the obvious. “We should take you to First Aid.” He stepped closer and brushed past False’s bad arm, and she winced. Ren did not catch that, but Cub sure did, and he frowned.

“I’m alright. I’ll be alright,” False mumbled. The last thing she wanted was to make everyone worry for her. Dang it, she was supposed to protect her friends, not the other way round!

“You can’t fool us, False,” Cub said sternly. Before she could stop him, he rolled up her sleeve, revealing the mess of purple and yellow on her left arm, with trickles of blood seeping out. She flinched. “First Aid. Now.”

“Guys!”

Another familiar voice entered the conversation. Fruit leapt into the arena, and stopped when he saw False’s bruises. “Oh yikes. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Pearl asked.

Fruit waved a First Aid member over. “I… Dream’s my friend. I don’t know why he was even more aggressive than usual. I know I sound like an apologist, but he’s usually not like this.”

False grunted. “Yeah, he probably hates us or something.”

Fruit frowned. “... I don’t think he does. But anyways, I know Techno tried to play nice.”

“He did?” Cub, Pearl, and False blurted out in unison, disbelieving. Fruit chewed on his lip.

“He hesitated when he was fighting Ren,” Fruit explained. “Ren, you were distracted when False screamed. Techno could’ve gotten you, but I saw him stop. In fact, he didn’t go for you until Burren attacked you, and Techno swooped in and stole the kill.”

“With the damage pot aka. water balloon that doesn’t actually hurt,” Ren continued, eyes widening in realization. “Techno… gave me a chance to save Falsie?”

“Lucky that you got the pot.” Cub rubbed his arms. “Techno was hitting me with his sword.”

“Yeah, but he hit you in the same place— your chestplate. He wasn’t trying to inflict actual damage.”

“He still knocked me to the ground.”

“Burren did,” Fruit corrected. “Burren got you at the last second.”

Pearl wrinkled her nose. “So, what you’re getting at is that Techno… pities us? And mercy-killed Ren and tried to do the same to Cub? To avoid unnecessary pain?”

“Well, I think he’s being nice, but I’m biased, soo…”

Ren frowned. “Pink Parrots has a weird atmosphere today. It’s like they’re thirsty… for blood,” he hastily added the last two words upon realizing how weird it sounded. 

“You thought so too? I thought I was going crazy…” Fruit hummed, and looked around. “Stan Twitt is creeping me out, by the way. Best to stay clear.”

Fruit stayed with them as the Yellow Yaks nursed their wounds. False, Cub and Pearl looked unhappy, but Ren tried to cheer them up with cheesy jokes. 

“There’s still eight more rounds of Battle Box,” Fruit reminded them. “I got to go now, but I’ll be cheering for you. Good luck!”

… False glanced down at her bandaged arm, ice on it. It helped to soothe the pain, but only a little. Ren, being the least injured team member (both physically and psychologically), supplied them with water and snacks. 

“We’re just getting into our groove,” False said out loud. “That was the worst possible team to go up against.” Her friends nodded. 

… That was just a warm up, right? They would surely win some rounds even with their injuries. False was good at PvP, wasn’t she? 

At least that was what everyone said.

And suddenly False didn’t feel optimistic at all.

Give them no reason to stare

No slipping up if you slip away

So I got nothing to share

No, I got nothing to say

The Yaks tried different tactics— rushing to the middle, staying as a group, splitting, switching up weapons. Victory was so close, yet so far away. With each round, they tried to learn from their mistakes and improved their strategy, but it seemed like everyone was always one step ahead. They were already demoralized and injured from their first battle with Pink Parrots, so with every loss, their hearts sank a little. 

“I’m gonna take the extra bullets this round, if you don’t mind,” False said as the Yaks peered at the equipment in front of them. “I ran out last time.”

“Sure, sure.” Pearl passed False the bullets.

False was still more comfortable with guns compared to swords. It allowed her to inflict damage without putting herself in danger (even though she ended up being quickly eliminated anyway). False thought about how Fruit suggested her to be bolder and more assertive, but still she automatically retreated into her comfort zone. She couldn’t help it; she had long preferred shooting her opponents. And when the rest of her team was struggling, False barely had the mental energy and courage to try something new. Maybe she could, if she allowed herself to, she just didn’t want to risk it.

“This isn’t going well for us,” Pearl stated when the Yaks lost their fifth round in a row. Cub dragged his battered body to their side of the arena, massaging his sweaty forehead. False silently passed Cub his water bottle.

“Why are we so bad at this?” Ren asked incredulously. “What’s happening?”

False knew he didn’t mean it, but it felt like those words were directed at her. She was supposed to be the PvP carry. She was supposed to step up and lead the team. But she was just hiding behind her friends with her trusty gun by her side. 

“All the other teams are honestly really good,” Pearl admitted. “And we’re not PvPers.”

False exhaled. “No. We’re not,” she confirmed. 

“Yeah, that much is definitely clear,” Ren laughed. 

False stared at her gun, then at the sword hanging on her belt. She could use the sword, but it would take three hits from her opponents to kill her. There wasn’t a lot of chance she could win a fight with a sword, so she would stick to using guns and bullets. 

And so they went again, and False stuck to crouching behind trees and pillars. She tried to snipe people, only her aim was bad and she was slow, so her team lost. Again.

Coincidentally, Ren decided to say, “We really gotta nail our shots.” Everybody murmured in agreement, and False quietly fetched her extra bullets, feeling the invisible pressure that was unintentionally imposed on her. 

“At least we got our weak game out of the way, dudes.” Ren’s voice floated towards False’s ears. It felt like he had said that for virtually every game so far. 

“We’ve been saying that every time though.” Pearl said exactly what everyone was thinking. 

False gripped her gun, and tried to keep her tone cheerful and lighthearted. “That’s just the case!” she exclaimed. “We’re bad at it all!”

… Okay, maybe she sounded saltier than she wanted to. 

They narrowly lost their seventh round, which was against the Lime Llamas— Pete, Katherine, Martyn and Jimmy. Ren had panickly exclaimed he didn’t want to kill Katherine (he did anyway), Pearl got Pete somehow, False got Jimmy, but Martyn got Cub and Pearl. Which was a shame, because the Yaks were so close. At least they knew all four people on the other team, and their blows were noticeably softer.

“It’s like this every time,” Ren sighed. “We get better, but it’s too late.”

False’s left arm started to throb again, and she clutched it. Jimmy frowned, worried. “Hey False, I didn’t hurt you too badly, did it?”

“Nah, you’re good, Dream gave this bruise to me.”

“I see. He’s scary.”

“Wait, did I hurt you too?”

Jimmy chuckled. “Only my dignity,” he joked. 

The Yaks had a brief friendly conversation with the Llamas, and soon the next round of Battle Box began. This time, the Yaks managed to beat the Orange Ocelots. It took them eight rounds to finally win, but hey, at least they won! Even if it was one time. 

“We beat last place though,” Cub reminded his teammates. “Heck, we’re supposed to beat this team.”

“Yeah, that was an empty victory, guys.” Ren perfectly put it into words as always. False bit her lip. Part of her wanted to protest, but she knew Ren was right. 

They tried to replicate their strategy for the final round, but unfortunately, they were against Aqua Axolotls, which was H’s team. Aqua was strong and confident, and the Yaks were easily wiped out once again.

… The Yaks stared at the leaderboard above them, which showed Yaks had earned 443 coins. They had a massive lead over Orange which earned 23 coins (sad). But the team above Yellow, the Cyan Creepers, earned a whopping 1320 coins, which was three times of what the Yaks had gotten. The Yellow Yaks didn’t even want to see how many coins Pink Parrots had. Their shoulders sagged when they recalled their only win, their “empty victory” of beating the last place team.

“Eight out of nine rounds,” Cub muttered. “That’s how many we lost.”

False wanted to flop on the ground, but she had self-restraint (and self-respect). Her exhausted body was screaming at her. She lifted her hand, but it was trembling. False’s gun clattered to the ground.

Useless. You can’t even be good at the things you should be good at, she thought to herself, heart clenching. 

“Yo!” Ren waved his hand to get his teammates’ attention. Like everyone else, he looked tired, brown hair plastered to his sweaty forehead, with even specks of dried blood on his face, but he continued to smile. False had no idea how he was able to do it. “We did okay.”

“We were ninth. That’s okay,” False retorted while Pearl and Cub chortled to ease the pain. “That’s our aim, right?”

… Ah, that was right. How ironic. Their original aim was seventh, but that goal was becoming painful to think about. Maybe they did belong in ninth. They probably did, and there was nothing they could do to change it. 

Funny to think that less than an hour ago, they were so naive and optimistic that they thought they could actually get seventh. They had a goal for once, but they quickly gave it up because it was hopeless. Now they were back to clinging onto the fact that they “weren’t last” just like they had always done. Back to the drawing board. It was as if all their practicing, training, strategizing, didn’t matter at all. 

… It didn’t matter how much they tried.

False sighed and looked down, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes. But then Ren slapped his thigh, abruptly breaking the silence. “All right! Good stuff!”

Cub, False, and Pearl shot him looks. Cub laughed, but it was a hollow laugh. Ren somehow did not sound sarcastic when he said “good stuff”.

“I mean, look. We’re doing just fine, Yaks,” Ren insisted. He was either very optimistic or in major denial. “Now we just need to start carrying. We’ve got some strong games for us coming up! Rocket Spleef, I’m looking at you.”

“False?” Pearl peeped, knowing False was good at Rocket Spleef.

False felt a dire need to protest. “I mean, they’ve changed it, so who knows anymore? I could be bad at it.” She sounded pissed off and negative, but she didn’t care anymore.

(Because False wasn’t good. It had been proved she wasn’t good, even though multiple people claimed she was. Dang it, people needed to stop putting so much faith in her! She wasn’t good!)

“Alright. So.” Ren was continuing his mad errand of “convincing everyone they were Just Fine”. “We’re comfortably sitting in ninth place. Just, umm, a mere thousand and seven hundred coins from eighth place.” Ren’s voice cracked a little, as even he realized how silly he sounded. 

“Oh my gosh,” Pearl whimpered, choking out laughter as she hid her face behind her hands.

“Just don’t look at it,” was False’s only advice. (But False did look at it, and the jarring difference made her sulk.)

“I mean, it’s exactly where everyone expected us to be,” Pearl said. “So we’re meeting expectations.”

“Exactly!” Ren looked delighted that it wasn’t just him trying to boost everyone’s spirits. 

“Yeah, ninth is exactly where we’re meant to be,” False sarcastically mumbled under her breath. Like we weren’t aiming for seventh, she privately added. 

“We’re not disappointed right now,” Ren stated it like it was a fact.

“Yeah, yeah.”

False felt bad for being sarcastic when Ren was trying so hard, but she couldn’t help it. She wrapped her Yaks jacket tighter around herself. 

Without Ren, the Yaks fell into silence again as they walked towards the Decision Dome. Ren was chewing his lip nervously, probably trying to think of more encouragements. “And, umm…”

When Ren faltered, Cub picked it up. “You know, we got our strongest events coming up,” Cub offered a little timidly, repeating Ren’s words from earlier. 

“Exactly, Cub, exactly.” Ren looked relieved. “And y’know, we need to give these guys a bit of a head start.”

False started to furiously fiddle with the decorative trapdoors in the lobby. She continued to stay quiet because she had nothing to contribute. She wasn’t good at hyping people up. 

“Like, we don’t wanna come here and flex on everybody, y’know?” Ren was almost rambling now, and False was surprised he was still continuing. “We’re giving them a head start. Let them feel good for a couple rounds.”

“We’ll let them have a bit of a handicap,” Pearl agreed.

… False continued to flip the trapdoors aggressively. She knew it wouldn’t help much, but dang, she was shakened and distressed. And she didn’t want to make her teammates feel worse by venting, so she took it out on these poor trapdoors. She trained her eyes on the trapdoors and let the mindless action take over.

“Hey, Falsie? Saw you lagging behind.”

It was Ren. Of course it was Ren. “Oh, hi,” False said nonchalantly. “I was just…” she vaguely gestured around, but she couldn't find an excuse. (Not that she needed one anyway. Ren wouldn’t mind.)

Ren still had that stupid smile plastered to his face. False literally had no idea why Ren could keep being so positive, yet it was the genuine sort of positive. Like Ren really thought the Yellow Yaks could do good. He really believed in them. He really believed in False—

False exhaled. Now she felt guilty for not supporting Ren like he had supported the rest of the Yaks. His jokes and encouraging words filled up the odd silence around the Yaks, and False didn’t want to think how awkward they would be without Ren. “Sorry, I’m just… stressed out now. The situation does not look good.”

“Yeah, I feel you.” Ren took a step closer. “But we can bring this back! I know we can!”

False looked at Ren, his eyes hopeful and sincere. And strangely, she felt herself be infected by his optimism.

… Because if Ren was smiling for everyone, she would smile for him too. Because they were friends, and False couldn’t rely on Ren to always cheer her up. 

They quietly stayed by each other’s side, nibbling on bananas. Several minutes passed. (False noticed Ren deliberately sat with her instead of Pearl and Cub. Was it because she looked the most upset after Battle Box?)

“It’s time to vote for the fourth game,” Ren noted. He stood up, brushed invisible dust off his pants, and stretched. “C’mon! Let’s go!” He looked back at False with his signature grin, slightest hint of concern in his face.

False returned the smile, not wanting to worry Ren. “Yup, let’s go!” She truly felt a little better after the short break, and hope seeped into her heart once more.

And False knew even if they got ninth when the Championship ended, at least they tried.

Chapter Text

We can be heroes for ever and ever-

What d'you say?

The Yellow Yaks entered the Decision Dome, eager to gain back their coins after Battle Box. Before they voted for the fourth game, they were randomly given a power up and hence they decided to dunk Purple Pandas. The Yaks didn’t have much of a reason; it was just funny. The Purple Pandas, in their cute onesies, exaggeratedly complained about not having a chance to vote.

“Why? Why??” Fundy whined. “What did we dooo?”

Cub merely smirked. “Hah! Get dunked on!”

“I HATE IT HERE!” Krinios gasped, mock offended. “I HATE HERMITCRAFT!”

“WE SUCK WHYYY?” Kara squealed, waving her fists in the air. 

“CUBFAN NO I WAS A FAN!” Fundy cried out, eyes dramatically large and watery. “I killed you in Battle Box but I was a fan!”

“RUDE!” False yelled back, but she could tell neither side was genuinely upset. In fact, Kara was clutching her sides and laughing. 

“HERMITCRAFT YUCKY!” Fundy pouted, looking like a miserable four-year-old. “I liked you guys!”

“Awww, look at them,” Ren chuckled. He made heart signs with his hands to show Purple they meant no ill will. 

Ace Race ended up being chosen, which the Yaks weren’t particularly good at but enjoyed because it was quick paced and fun. In fact, they agreed it was one of the funnest, if not the funnest game in the entire Championship.

“I haven’t played this before,” Cub remarked as the Yaks walked over to the Ace Race course.

“You’ll love it, dude!” Ren reassured him. Both Pearl and False nodded.

“Your first time will probably suck,” Cub read out loud from the signs that displayed the Ace Race instructions. “Uh oh! I’m in trouble!” he chuckled nervously. “Gonna drag you guys down.”

Ren patted Cub’s shoulder. “Hey Cub, even if you do badly, it doesn’t matter. It’s just super fun.”

“Yeah, yeah.” False nodded.

Upon hearing what his teammates said, Cub looked relieved and even excited to try out the Ace Race course. After their loss in Battle Box, it was time for them to chill and enjoy themselves. 

Ace Race began with a bang and all participants immediately took off, making sure to go on conveyor belts that sped them up. The players were launched up and landed on inflatable trampolines to cushion their fall. 

“For a brief moment, I was first!” Ren felt the need to tell everyone just as False dashed ahead of him.

“Well, now you’ve got some competition!” False cheered, blonde hair flying behind her.

“Ohh geez!” Ren mocked pouted. “Save your breath.”

It was nice to be able to banter with friends. The thing about Ace Race was that it was fast and engaging, giving the players an unparalleled adrenaline rush. Ren happily went down a zip line as participants around him screamed and cursed. 

Ren was still in awe of the beauty of the Championships despite it being his fifth time participating. Everything was so meticulous and well-organized. Even though he knew he wouldn’t get a high rank, he still enjoyed being in the Championship. And he knew his friends did as well, or else they wouldn’t be joining again and again.

“Rendog, you need to move,” came a voice from behind, jolting Ren out of his pleasant thoughts. It was Burren from Pink Parrots. “You’re old, and you’re in my way.”

Ren frowned, only slightly. Instead of replying, he turned his focus to his teammates’ voices from his ear radio.

Ren knew he was old compared to most Championship participants. And Burren (probably, hopefully) meant it as some non-offensive, supposed-to-be-funny smack talk. Ren didn’t know Burren, so he couldn’t judge. (And Fruit did mention the Pink Parrots seemed to be affected by some weird bloodlust that day, so they weren’t completely themselves.)

“This is so cool.” Ren let the words fall out of his mouth as some contraption bounced him upwards.

“Ahh! I fell!” came False’s shriek. “Oh, I fell off the same time as someone else, so it’s cool.”

Ren then heard False say, “Fundy, my dude, you okay?” then Fundy’s distant screech of “WHY DID YOU DUNK US?!” The Yellow Yaks giggled, amused by Fundy’s frustration. 

“Wow, this is pretty awesome actually,” Cub said after a while. Ren fought back a grin.

“It’s cool, ey Cub?”

“Yeah, this is nice.”

“It is pretty fun,” False agreed.

The rest of the course went by quickly and relatively painlessly. The Yaks jokingly yelled at players from other teams (“Shubble! No!” “Sylvee, move outta the way! I’m coming through!”) and greeted friends that passed by, with the occasional “dang it!” and “what the heck!” accompanied by panicked British shouting.

“Wait what?” False once cried out. “Hello?” 

Ren had no idea what she was up to, since he was in front of her, but she sounded extremely confused. 

“Okay, okay,” came False’s agitated voice, then she sighed. “Blimey.”

Ren couldn’t help but chuckle. “You okay, Falsie!”

“No!” False exclaimed. “I-it wasn’t working! I kept on falling off the launch pad!”

As they ran, they discussed how certain players could use shortcuts, and False commented they must have religiously rewatched their footage.

“They’re way more serious than us. I mean, Pearl took it most seriously this month. You’re doing practice and everything!” Ren said. 

“I’m so bad at this. I mean, I’m just a builder, just someone from 3-G,” Pearl replied with a laugh. “So I had to practice PvP and Parkour.”

Pearl finished the quickest, coming in 25th place, and False, the last to arrive, came in 32nd. It didn’t matter as much because they all had a great time. The Yaks met up to analyse the race course while the other participants cheered for those who hadn’t finished yet. Fundy in particular seemed a little stuck, with people teasingly calling him “fungi” and “fungus”. Still, everybody managed to finish before the time limit. Once the scores were released, the Yaks could only gape at the fastest laps, marvelling how much of a beast Techno was. (The Yaks were still in ninth.)

“We’re practicing for next month, right guys?” False asked, crossing her arms. “And we’ll practice for the month after the next month.”

“Exactly, exactly,” Ren chimed in. “Trial and error, guys. Practice makes perfect.”

Now that the fourth game was over, it was time for a break. It was also time for the infamous Audience Takeover which was Totally-Not-Rigged by Stan Twitt. 

“Ahh yes, we’re playing whatever Techno and Dream want to play,” Pearl drawled. “I bet it’s Skyblockle.”

“Never mind that for now, let’s just rest our bodies for a sec.” Ren flopped down on a bench, his muscles aching. “Phew!”

“Ren, dude, we gotta sit in line! Our jackets, man!” False insisted.

So the Yaks sat in a row, drinking water and munching on False’s bananas. She seemed to have an infinite source of them and did not explain why. (It was probably for the memes and fourth wall breaking.)

Cub brought everyone MooPop (Scar had stuffed four bottles of that… carbonated mushroom milk or whatever the heck it was in Cub’s hands before he left for the Championship). Pearl wrinkled her nose at the smell, but the hermits convinced her to try some. Despite the taste being… unconventional, the drink was cool and refreshing. Ren exhaled, and felt his heartbeat gradually return to normal after Ace Race, but the adrenaline and excitement lingered. 

And for a while, being ninth didn’t feel so bad after all.

Though nothing will keep us together

We could steal time just for one day

A head suddenly popped between Pearl and Ren. False turned to see purple panda ears sticking out of a white hoodie. It was a beaming Fundy. The Yaks watched as Fundy pulled out his phone and took a selfie of him with the Yellow Yaks. Ah, that was right, Fundy was a fan of Hermitcraft. “Hope you’re okay with that,” Fundy said with a sheepish grin. “Y’know, I wouldn’t mind being a part of Hermitcraft.”

Pearl laughed. “In fact, you look like you’re part of Teams Yaks now.”

“Aww, look at his little ears,” Ren commented. “He’s cute.”

False laughed. Fundy did look a little cute, just like when Wilbur tried to get False’s attention some Championships ago. “Well, to get into 3-H, you would have to suck at PvP, and you’re certainly not,” False quipped.

“I got stuck in the Ace Race map though,” Fundy reminded her. 

“Yeah, but there was that ace of yours in the 6th Dodgebolt.”

“Y-you remember?” Fundy asked in disbelief, pleasantly surprised. 

“Well, I have been rewatching some footage,” False said with a shrug. “That was super cool.”

Fundy chuckled. “Anyways, Iskall would just roast me for every second I’m in Hermitcraft. Now I feel a little bad for trolling him.”

“Oh yeah!” Cub looked up, eyes meeting with Fundy’s. “Fundy, you asked Iskall for help before.”

“Wait wait wait.” False wrinkled her nose. “Weren’t you supposed to keep that a secret?”

Fundy rubbed the back of his head. “Well, uh, I asked Iskall to, but since you guys are hermits, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

“Iskall used the I.O.U., didn’t he?” False said, remembering what Pete and H said after the hermits got beat up last time. “To make you help the hermits when Pete and H proposed that school law to protect us.”

Fundy raised his eyebrows. “Oh, nah, the I.O.U.’s still there. Iskall hasn’t used it, so I live in perpetual fear.”

“Good luck, dude,” Ren could only say. “I.O.U.’s are brutal. Especially from Iskall. Even though he’s my bro.”

After a while, Fundy returned to chat with his team. False thought it was nice to have a normal conversation with 3-A students without them either a) looking down on them or b) trying to bring them up. The hermits and main campus students felt like equals despite Stan Twitt’s horrendous ranking system. 

False stood up and started to stretch. Skyblockle was probably chosen, and it was one of the most PvP intensive games, so she definitely needed to warm up. She raised an arm—

Only for it to smack into someone behind her.

A little panicked, False glanced up. A guy with curly brown hair looked down.

“Hello,” Wilbur said it was the most natural thing in the world.

False blinked, and automatically stepped away. “Hi? What are you doing?” Wilbur was… standing suspiciously close to her.

“Covering up the Y so you’re Yellow Acks,” Wilbur said nonchalantly.

“Wilbur, you butt,” False huffed to herself, annoyed he had ruined the Yaks’ line. Showing off the YAKS on their back was the very purpose of having a uniform! She moved around so she was standing behind Wilbur. “Aha! See, it still says Yaks! Take that, Wilbur. You butt.” She added the last two words as an afterthought. 

“We should call him Wilbutt,” Ren said as he loudly slurped his MooPop. 

“Wilbutt it is,” False replied brightly.

Wilbur turned around to stare at False. “Can you guys stop talking about me as if I’m not here?”

False crossed her arms. “I mean, you’re not part of the Yaks!” she exclaimed, glaring at Wilbur. 

Wilbur did not move. “You know, my team was joking about how you hermits look like AIs. Sitting perfectly still in a row.”

“That’s because all hermits actually are AIs controlled by Doc. He uses a voice changer for all of us and everything,” Ren casually said. 

Wilbur laughed. “Ohh, I loved that episode. Doc’s Season Six finale gave me the shivers.”

“I thought you only watched Grian, to be honest.”

“False, do you really think that lowly of me? I’m hurt.”

Wilbur then stepped behind False so he was once again covering the letter. Seeing this, Cub walked over to False, curious about what was going on. False responded immediately.

“Cub, get in line! Don’t worry about it.” False waved a dismissing hand. Cub chortled.

“I just wanna see what’s Wilbutt up to!”

“The nickname really is sticking, isn’t it?” Wilbur muttered to himself, but judging from his tone, he found it endearing.

“Cub, we’ve got to form the YAKS,” False insisted, and Cub went back to his original position. 

Wilbur and False continued to nudge each other. Wilbur was eerily silent, but the smile on his face told everyone he enjoyed being an annoyance. False was quietly laughing. “I-I don’t know what’s going on anymore. Wilbutt, get away!”

False took a few steps forward then turned around, expecting Wilbur to follow her, but he was suddenly at Pearl’s. “I see how it is,” False drawled, returning to her original position. “You got bored of annoying me, did you?”

“Hello, sir, you’re blocking my K,” Pearl informed Wilbur with a grin. Wilbur just smiled and continued to stand behind Pearl. “Hey? Sir?”

“Well, you’re a lot more polite than the others who call me Wilbutt,” Wilbur told Pearl, making sure his voice was loud enough so the hermits could hear him. “And I’m covering up the K now so you can be Team Yas.”

“You really wanna be in the Yaks, don’t you,” Ren laughed. “You’ve got Yak envy now.”

“Team Yassss,” Wilbur repeated, seemingly amused. He stretched out an arm to block Pearl, but she just rolled her eyes and swatted it away.

“Nuh huh, Wilbutt, you can’t stop the Yaks,” False proudly declared, hands on hips. 

“Ahh, the many potentials that this team uniform gives us,” Cub remarked. 

“The letters were on display for everyone to see,” Wilbur said innocently. “How can I not?”

“We could be Team Ass,” Ren piped up.

“Yeah, saying that is totally necessary,” False quipped.

Wilbur continued to “bully” the Yellow Yaks until break time was over. The Yaks said “Bye, Wilbutt” in near perfect unison, Wilbur ducked his head, hid his smiles, and went back to his team.

False knew the hermits would not have an opportunity to interact with most main campus students if it wasn’t for the Championship. Although some of them probably thought they were lame, quite a lot of them were friendly and nice. Even members of the student council like Wilbur and Fundy. And chatting with them made False forget they were from opposite spectrums in MCYT school. 

Being a hermit and having a classroom separate from everyone else did distance them from other students, and thankfully the Championship acted as a bridge. The hermits met Fruit and H through Championship practice and they met Pete when they got beat up after the 6th Championship. Even though the hermits liked to keep to themselves and the 3-GH sphere, several main campus students have attempted conversation, like Techno, Wilbur and Fundy. It was impossible not to interact with 3-A students, as “high and mighty” as they were.

But that brief moment of solidarity, of togetherness despite coming from different classes and social circles, was interrupted with the results of the vote. Skyblockle won with a whopping 84.6% of votes, no doubt due to the united force of Techno and Dream’s fans. Even if barriers were broken down among the forty Championship participants, it was a whole other world when it concerned the fans of the participants.

“And Skyblockle’s a risky PvP game,” Pearl noted. “It’s not something like Build Mart or Bingo. Even if you’re good at PvP, if you’re unlucky, your entire team can get wiped out.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda like Survival Games. Except Skyblockle definitely has a bigger focus on PvP compared to Survival Games,” Ren agreed.

“Anyway, my point is that these fans voted because their favourite participants told them to. Even though it could be risky. It’s just… wow, none of us can compete with that,” Pearl marvelled.

“The power of fandom and Stan Twitt,” Cub drily commented. “Sometimes it just happens.”

“Actually, sometimes I’m glad we’re not massively popular,” Ren said. “Or else we’ll get cancelled every second and be somehow dragged into speedrunning drama despite not being speedrunners.”

“Oh yeah, Cub, you’re an actual astrophysicist, aren’t you?” False casually asked. 

Cub shrugged. “I do have a degree, and I know a lot about Minecraft unlike a certain astrophysicist somebody hired, so I’m pretty qualified to comment on speedrunning cheating scandals, but nah. Don’t want to involve myself with that.”

“Wise words, Cub, wise words.” Ren patted Cub’s back. “It’s not worth the attention.”

“All these statistics and astrophysicist talk is fun, but we should focus on our Skyblockle strategy.” False, as the unofficial leader during PvP games, redirected everyone’s attention to their most pressing matter. “Here’s what I read…”

I will be king

And you will be queen

Though nothing will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day

The Yaks couldn’t be too upset by Skyblockle being chosen, considering it was utterly predictable and they were helpless against the wishes of the majority. None of them knew how Skyblockle worked, so they felt a little anxious. False even called it “the worst thing ever”. 

The Yaks tried. They genuinely did. In the middle of the game, Ren said it was the best they’d ever done, and False replied with an ominous “don’t jinx it”. 

It was a bit of a mess, with them throwing each other lapis (for enchanting) and sticks and swords. At one point they were so absorbed in gearing up that they failed to realize the border was coming right behind them.

“Cub, go go go!” False frantically nudged Cub, and he nearly fell off their little island. 

C’mon Cub, be more aware, Cub scolded himself. Don’t drag the team down. 

They approached the middle of the Skyblockle arena. Someone immediately started chasing Pearl, and the others frantically scrambled up ladders and came face to face with their teachers— the Aqua Axolotls. The Axolotls grinned, but showed no mercy.

Quig swiftly slain Cub. False was furiously whacking her sword and was surprised that she killed HBomb with one hit. HBomb stared at her, eyes wide. “That scared the crap outta me, False.” False could only smile before she had to run again. Ren and Pearl were eliminated, and it was all up to False. Alas, Krtzy came up the ladder and False was forced to fight him. In a few quick blows, False was killed.

“He must have had good enchantments,” False muttered as she went to find her eliminated teammates. 

“Dudes!” Ren yelled, excited. “This is the best we’ve ever done! I’m so proud of us.”

“We got two thousand coins, and we’re fourth in Skyblockle!” Pearl cheered.

“Not everyone has died yet,” Cub reminded her. “The points can still change.”

“False, you were in the zone there!” came a familiar voice. It was HBomb, standing on the sidelines as he observed his surviving Aqua teammates. “You scared the heck outta me!”

False nervously laughed. “My PvP brain was in action. I-I don’t remember how I did that.”

The Yaks clustered together and reflected on what they had done well and what they could improve on next time. To their surprise, they were still fourth even when the game ended.

“Wait, and we’re still fourth?! Dude!” False’s eyes were wide as she stared at the leaderboard. “I thought we were gonna lose that and go to seventh! Nicee.”

“Hey, we beat Pink Parrots!” Pearl cheered. “Aha! Take that, after you got us in Battle Box!”

“Ohh, we need to take a photo to remember that.”

“Yup, definitely!”

Their bodies still ached from the injuries they had gotten in Battle Box, but they allowed themselves to enjoy their small victory. 

“This is a moment for the Yaks,” Ren declared proudly as he clapped. 

“That’s what we were saying, right?” Pearl said with a bright smile. “We’ll give them a handicap for the first few rounds.”

Ren pointed to the individual leaderboard for Skyblockle which had just popped up. “And look, we all did around the same! We all did our jobs. Perfect.”

“Now I wanna play some Build Mart, now that we’ve proven our strategies can work.” False couldn’t help but smile, uplifted by their relative success in a game they were supposed to be weak in.

“Yeah!” Ren nudged Cub. “Cub came up with a really good strategy for Build Mart.”

Cub laughed. “We came up with a good strategy. Let’s hope it gets played!”

False said she did pretty well in Bingo last time, so she wanted Bingo. Thankfully, due to Championship “meta”, the last few games were usually team games, so False got her wish.

Bingo was a frenzy of calling out items and wondering which Bingo slots were taken up. There was some confusion over how the map was supposed to be read, which created quite a struggle. At one point, Quig from Aqua Axolotls idly called out, “Can you end the game? We already finished.” which was the biggest flex ever.

The Yaks ended up getting 950 coins, which was… quite the distance away from the team above them who got 2100 coins.

“I got five challenges,” False muttered to herself. “I think I got six last time, so I’m happy.”

After the coins from Bingo were added up, the Yaks could take a good look at the leaderboard, and predictably, the Yellow Yaks were still in ninth. “All the teams have more than ten thousand coins, dude!” Pearl cried out. “It’s just us with seven thousand and Orange with three thousand.”

“I think we did okay,” False insisted, not wanting to feel negative. They had brought their spirits up after Battle Box, and she didn’t want it to be ruined. “We’re just fine.”
Pearl nodded. “Yup, and we had fun, and that’s what really matters, right?”

The next game chosen was Build Mart, and the Yaks heaved a sigh of relief. This was something they were good at and something they had prepared for. “If it isn’t Sands of Time or Build Mart, we rage quit,” False had said humorously. 

It was time for the Yaks to reveal their strategy. Each member would go to a different area of the “supermarket” (lumber, stone, colours, ores, and outdoors) and pick up every item there, then go back to their work bench and assemble the builds. To them, the strategy seemed pretty solid, and the Yaks thought they were outsmarting everyone. 

But—

The Yellow Yaks watched as other teams scored point after point, completed build after build. Their hands hurt as they scrambled for resources. They tried to call for help, only to realize everyone was too wrapped up in their own thoughts.

The seconds ticked down. Cub was struggling to cut quartz into slabs. Ren was agonizing on how he was missing one smooth stone slab. Build Mart was a confusing, stressful mess, and when it ended, all of them were relieved yet upset.

“I messed up so badly!” Ren cringed and burrowed his head in his arms. “One slab! Geez!”

False wiped sweat off her forehead. “All I can say is, that was not the strat,” she immediately told everyone, getting straight to business. “We’re not all on the same wavelength.”

“That’s not it.” Cub was studying the scores of the teams with a frown on his face. “You get points based on who finishes it first too. Which I didn’t realize.” Cub laughed, but he looked like he was in emotional pain. “Better not do that next time.”

“And this was supposed to be our game… we’re builders…” Pearl looked at the ground, deflated. 

“We messed up. We messed up a lot,” Ren groaned. “And since we were coming from different sections, the resources arrived at different times. There were a good two minutes that we couldn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, I was waiting around for a long time,” Pearl agreed, fidgeting with her sleeve. “We just couldn’t manage our resources efficiently.”

Upon hearing his teammates talk about the many problems they faced, Cub swallowed. It felt like a bucket of freezing water had been poured over his heart. “Sorry guys. I-I was the one who suggested the strategy. I’m the one to blame.”

“No, no.”

“We all agreed to it.”

“Don’t say that, Cub!”

All three of the Yaks immediately protested, but Cub still felt like he was responsible, and felt horrible. 

“I-I think it’s the points,” Cub mumbled. He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to hide that they were shaking. “I was unaware you got points for completing a build first. So, uh, that’s the thing!” He tried to smile, but it came out wrong.

The Yaks were silent once again, each of them wallowing in their own thoughts as they tried to rationalize what just happened. Cub in particular felt especially guilty, because he had suggested something without doing enough research. Not only had he cost them coins, but also their morale. They had worked so hard to encourage each other after the low that was Battle Box. Cub trailed after the Yaks as they walked to the Decision Dome, his head hung low. 

“I think the strat could work,” Ren suddenly suggested, being the eternal optimist he was. Maybe he didn’t want Cub to feel bad. “We just didn’t think about the logistics. Like, the left chest should be for rocks, the right chest for—“

False sighed. She knew when to tinker on a strategy, and when to give it up completely, and she couldn’t let Ren cling onto something that would never succeed. “No, I don’t think it’ll work,” she bluntly stated. Cub winced, remembering the false confidence they had before Built Mart. They were so sure it would work. “We didn’t use the chests much,” False continued. “We should just focus on the builds; if you’re not feeling confident, have two work on the same build. Then separate and go to different sections to collect resources.”

“I still think that strategy was definitely worth trying,” Ren continued to insist, and Cub didn’t know whether to hug him or punch him. “Yeah, yeah,” Cub quietly added.

But the Yaks put Build Mart behind them and focused on choosing the last game. It had a 3x multiplier, hence it was very important (but it wasn’t like the Yaks could move up a rank, they were so behind eighth place). 

Sands of Time, a team game, was chosen. It was one of the better games for the Yaks, so they were cool with it. They decided to play conservative and bank their coins, because last time Iskall had six hundred, but then he died. 

Noxcrew had some technical difficulties, so all teams had to wait for a while. The Yaks took the time to talk about getting ninth place again and not seventh like they had wished. Having played seven events, including their total defeat in Battle Box, they were all exhausted. Adrenaline was running out. Ren took a look at his teammates and decided to boost morale.

“Listen, Yaks.” The three Yaks stared up at Ren, wondering what else he could say after his endless encouragement. “We definitely won the best outfit of the Championships, thanks to Foxy.” Ren did a little twirl to show off the letter on his back.

“Of course.” “Totally.” The others nodded in agreement, although not with the same level of energy as Ren. 

“And we’re the most awesome team,” Ren announced with a proud grin. “I know it sounds cheesy, but who cares about points? Friendship was the real winner today.” 

… What Ren said was true, but it was undeniable that placing ninth again was upsetting. It was their dream to get into Dodgebolt to prove everyone wrong (and it was the only way the hermits could get back into the main campus). Ren saw the downcast looks of his friends, and took a deep breath. “Hey,” he said, voice only slightly wobbly. “Can we have a mega cringe group hug?”

Smiles slowly snuck onto the Yaks’ faces. “Awww, sure.”

They hugged each other, making sure not to touch False’s bad arm. Sure, they were all sweaty and tired and they probably smelled horrible, but there was nothing like the warmth they shared. They shut their eyes and rested their chins on each other’s arms, their limbs so tightly intertwined they barely knew who was who anymore. But did it matter? They were a team.  

“We’re embracing the cringe,” Ren quietly chuckled. “Literally.”

As they waited, they chatted about practicing for the next Championship, and wanted to do the parkour course together (the hermits still hadn’t managed to finish it). False suggested playing UHC, while Pearl laughed and said she wasn’t a parkour master at all because she finished the same around False did. 

“You know what makes me sad? False, Cub and I— I mean, False and Cub are generally pretty good PvPers,” Ren sighed. “I mean, I’m not like a terrible PvPer, but I feel like we suck at PvP so bad, dudes!”

“Well, that’s compared to the top PvPers we see here,” False pointed out. “They spend hours upon hours training.”

“We’re just getting wrecked! But points aside, I think we did really really well in Skyblockle.”

They enthusiastically discussed Skyblockle and pointed out that they were doing good until they reached the middle and split up. Ren and Cub even got killed by people they didn’t realize were there. Despite all four of them being good friends, they needed to remind themselves teamwork was essential in the Championship. Sometimes they were too concerned about their individual performance, and forgot they couldn’t succeed alone. They talked about needing better enchantments and more powerful gear, then worked out a way to stay in the middle without being immediately targeted. 

“So Skyblockle might actually become one of our strongest events,” Ren remarked. “Which is actually kinda weird to say!”

False had to be the realist to the optimist Ren. “I wouldn’t say the strongest, but we can survive Skyblockle. We just need to survive in the Championship since we kind of suck.”

“And if we do more parkour training, we don’t have to be scared of parkour!”

“I can teach you guys my… ways,” Pearl coughed. She was suddenly self conscious that everyone was looking at her. “Just kidding, I’m actually horrible at Parkour,” she quickly added. 

Ren grinned. “You can be our sensei. A silhouette against the setting sun as Cub, False and I jump past the levels. Now that’s a cool image.”

The seconds ticked down, and the Yaks stopped their chattering after realizing the final game was upon them. They knew no matter how well they did, they would still get ninth, but hey, they weren’t going to be sore losers about it.

Sands of Time passed by quickly. There were a few hiccups, such as when Cub panicked and left the dungeon when they still had time, and when Ren didn’t know everyone else had left. Still, they did pretty decently by their standards, and came sixth. The Yaks reckoned they would’ve done better if they had better luck with the vaults.

With the main Championship event finished, the Yellow Yaks got ninth as predicted, but they ended up getting 10028 coins, which they chose to feel proud of. (“We’re in the 10k club, guys!” “#NotLast, get it trending!”)

“We’re just three thousand coins away from eighth,” Ren mentioned. “Better than last time, when we were like, ten thousand coins away.”

Everyone stared at him skeptically. “Really? Is that possible?” Pearl asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Ren grinned sheepishly. “Geez, I’m just trying to make us feel better.”

“Well, maybe you just made us feel worse.”

Ren swiftly changed the topic to avoid more awkwardness. “Look, we’re playing Championship Placement Bingo, right? We wanna get all ten rankings. That’s our true goal. We got ninth, we got seventh—”

“And we got ninth again,” False exclaimed, raising her eyebrows. “Just because we like that number so much.”

Ren, as always, was quick to chime in, even if False sounded sarcastic. “Yeah. Nine is our sweet spot.”

“Yeah,” False said, just a little mockingly, not enough to upset anyone or anything. “That’s what we know and love.”

“Eventually we’ll slowly make our way up the top.” Pearl brushed her beige hair out of her face. “Like we’ll get seventh, then fifth, and maybe we’ll make it to fourth!”

False shrugged. “Or maybe we’ll get ninth four times in a row. Who knows.”

“Alright people, time to put that behind us!” Ren gestured to the masses on the spectator stands, the majority of them wearing pink headbands and supporting Pink Parrots. “It’s Dodgebolt time, babey! Last month we saw the most exciting final Dodgebolt. Geez, back then I felt like I couldn’t breathe!”

“I feel it’s gonna be more intense this round,” Pearl quipped as the Yaks hurried to the Dodgebolt arena. “Aqua versus Pink? Three S tiers and HBomb on the field? This gonna be insane.”

“It’s Fwhip in the final again, dudes!” Ren cheered. He jumped up and down, trying to catch Fwhip’s attention. ““COME ON, FWHIPPY!” Ren hollered from the sidelines. “YOU GOT THIS BABEY!”

“Go Fwhip!” Pearl whooped. “Legacy for the win!”

Fwhip, already standing in the arena, waved back at the Yaks. He shouted something, but his voice was completely drowned out by the din. Nevertheless, the huge beam on his face told everyone he appreciated the support.

“Aqua’s got to win, because everyone wants Techno and Dream to win sooo badly,” False declared as she picked up an aqua banner. She turned to her teammates, not expecting any resistance. She cocked an eyebrow. “Aqua has to win, right?”

Ren nodded vigorously. “It’s gotta be an upset.”

“Purely to upset everybody,” False agreed. ‘We can’t let Stan Twitt have this.”

Stan Twitt, was of course freaking out. “OMGFHFDGSFHG!” they screeched. “DREAM’S GOTTA WIN AFTER BEING LOCKED IN SANDS OF TIME JAIL! TECHNO’S GOT TO WIN AFTER HE LOST AGAINST HBOMB LAST TIME! And Michael and Burren deserve to win too I guess.” 80% of the audience cheered, echoing Stan Twitt. The spectator stands were covered with an overwhelming amount of pink decorations.

But among the forty Championship participants, the situation was reversed. Practically everyone except for Pink Parrots’ friends were rooting for Aqua. It appeared that everyone wanted an upset too, and unanimously agreed to support the team that wasn’t favoured by the majority.

It was the Yellow Yaks’ dream to get into Dodgebolt, but that dream seemed more unattainable than ever when they saw who were in the finals. The rivals Technoblade and Dream had teamed up against H, who was not as skilled as Techno or Dream, but his leadership skills were unparalleled. Not to mention H had a stronger Quig by his side, and his loyal friends Fwhip and Joel. Michael and Burren were good players too, and the Yaks wouldn’t be surprised if they popped off in Dodgebolt. Legendary people were on the field, competing for the crown. It was the fateful duel in the climax of a movie, the protagonist and the villain facing each other to end it for once and for all. 

As for the Yaks?

They were just the pawns, the faceless background characters, interchangeable with points and coins. Yet another kill scored by Techno, nothing more than a blank dummy, nothing more than bragging rights. The Yellow Yaks gripped the railings and gaped at the power of the two Dodgebolt teams, their faces and figures blurring in the crowd. They were nothing more than pawns. 

.

.

.

At least, they were the pawns in this Championship.

Because what were heroes without defeat? What were champions without losing? What were protagonists without setbacks?

Nobody was born a champion. 

Victory was achieved through trial and error. Losing was just the natural predecessor to winning. 

The Yellow Yaks did not know it, but they would soon prove that to everybody.

Duo by duo.

Championship by championship.

And when they finally struck, it was far too late for anyone to stop them.

Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever

Then we could be heroes, just for one day.

Chapter Text

The image of the dead

Dead ends in my mind

Policemen swear to God

Love's seeping from the guns

I know my friends and I

Would probably turn and run

The Aqua Axolotls would win the 8th Championship.

That was what H said when they were the last team to get out of Sands of Time. They cheered, exuberant. They were getting into Dodgebolt! They could win this whole thing!

H and his team stepped onto the Dodgebolt field. Despite it being summer, H shivered. He wiped his sweaty hands on his aqua plaid jacket.

Aqua banners surrounded his side of the field, and the Axolotls looked up to see the majority of the participants cheering for them. But outside of the Championship arena, the spectator stands were drenched in Pink, and Stan Twitt’s UwU screeching was clearly audible. 

The audience wanted Pink to win. And solely because of that fact, the participants wanted Aqua to win. They couldn’t let Pink win as expected and show off their protagonist power; HBomb, the leader of the “villainous” Aqua Axolotls, had to stop them.

“Boys, remember to breathe,” H reminded his teammates.

“I’m breathing, I’m breathing H!” Joel shrieked in such a high-pitched voice that H knew he totally wasn’t breathing. 

“Dude, I can’t believe me and Fwhip are gonna become the first back-to-back champions,” H stated, his heart thumping so quickly it felt like it might jump out of his ribcage. “Me and Quig are gonna become the first three time winners, and Joel’s about to win his first game. Let’s GO!”

… Maybe stating their goals would boost their morale and help them win. Maybe that would calm them down instead of making them cocky. Behind H, the Aqua supporters screamed and waved their banners.

“YOU GOT THIS HMAMA! Do what you did last time!”

H turned with a beam. “Hey Ren! Thanks for the support!”

“I can’t believe a builder is gonna be the first back-to-back winner,” False’s voice drifted towards H. She flashed the Axolotls a thumbs up. “Go on, my dudes. We’ll be cheering you on.”

Fwhip laughed. “Back-to-back winners, eh? It’s not going to be easy.”

“True, but we’re still doing it.” H was determined. “Guys, let’s go!”

The seconds ticked down, and H scanned his opponents. The Pink Parrots were discussing their strategies, but H could tell they looked confident. H gulped, and tried not to think too much about facing the top two PvPers. H had his Aqua Axolotls, and that was enough for him. 

During their first round, H was swiftly eliminated by Technoblade, his old opponent from the 7th Championship. H fought back a sigh, and stared at the bright pink paint dripping off his chest plate. He scrambled up the stairs so he could get a good look at the Dodgebolt field. 

H wanted to help his team so badly— too bad he was taken out immediately. H gripped the railing. Breathe in, breathe out, he ordered himself, taking his own advice. 

It’s okay. I can help them from the sidelines, H told himself, but a nasty voice was whispering to him “you should’ve been better at dodging....”

H shook his head, and returned to reality. Practically every Championship participant was cheering for them. He couldn’t let them down. 

“Attaboy!” he yelled when Quig shot Michael. But Quig was then eliminated by Techno. Quig and H, known masters at Dodgebolt, were now out, leaving the 3-G crafters Joel and Fwhip alone on the field. Joel was even a first timer. When Fwhip and Joel looked up at H and Quig with the slightest hint of confusion, H knew he had to take charge.

“Aim for Techno and Dream,” H ordered. “Do not target Burren— he’s the bait. Call out who you’re going for.”

“I’m going for Dream,” Joel said, and Fwhip quickly followed. “I’m going for Techno.”

Fwhip shot, but he hit Burren instead. H was quick to comment despite the outcome being unexpected. “You got a kill! Nice!”

But Fwhip was shot by Techno (that guy was a beast!) and Joel, the new guy, was suddenly burdened with a 1v2.

“You’re good, you’re good! You have both bullets!”

“Take your time! Take your time! Don’t just shoot.”

The remaining Axolotls soothed Joel without a second of hesitation, and Joel gulped. He raised his gun, aiming it towards Technoblade. 

He missed, but H instantly said, “Good try!”

Joel proceeded to dodge a few more bullets before Dream took a bullet and shot Joel like it was the most natural thing in the world. As the Axolotls groaned, H remained unshaken. “We got this boys, don’t worry.” He nodded like he could convince himself.

“Best of five, best of five.”

“This be looking like a gender reveal party, bro.”

H bit back a chuckle. The aqua and pink decorations did resemble a gender reveal party, but they had business to attend to. “Techno went straight for me, so I’ll be taken out first. I don’t want the first shot,” H told everyone as they stepped into position again.

The second round was off to a good start. Quig got Dream (“Attaboy!”), then he and Joel were eliminated. H grabbed the aqua paintball bullet and fitted it in his gun. “I’m going for Techno. I want him.”

Techno… H had faced him just a month ago, and he’d won. Surely he could win again this time. A few tense seconds passed—

Then a blue bullet soared and splattered onto Techno. Techno’s head jerked up and he locked eyes with H.

But Techno had looked at the wrong person.

It was Fwhip who had gotten Techno.

Before anybody could breathe, Burren accidentally stepped out of the Dodgebolt zone and was automatically eliminated. It was only Michael left. 

“Nice, nice, NICE—“

A fire was roaring inside H, and he pulled the trigger. The bullet went way further than he’d expected. “How did I miss that?!” H seethed, mad at himself for throwing away such a golden opportunity. He was especially mad that Fwhip had killed someone and H couldn’t, thus he had let Fwhip and his team down. 

There was a flurry of confusion and excitement as Quig and Joel shouted directions from above. Suddenly, Fwhip was gone, and he passed his bullet to H. “He got me, it’s all you!” Fwhip cried out. “You got two!”

H felt the invisible pressure imposed on him once more. His team was depending on him, and he had to win this round. His fingers twitched—

He missed one shot.

“H S-tier!” came a familiar voice behind him. Was it Eret, his friend and old teammate?

No, no, no. H could not afford to be distracted. His eyes narrowed in on his target—

He released.

.

.

“YESSS! Nice one, H!”

“Let’s go! Well done!”

H could not celebrate yet, despite that was what his teammates were doing. He just clapped his hands with a stoic expression, hoping he could feel his fingers again after the two Dodgebolt rounds. H exhaled, and watched as his teammates entered the Dodgeball arena again.

H finally spoke, but it was in a quieter voice. “Let’s go, boys! And I want the first shot.”

Adrenaline was pumping through H’s veins after his two kills. He was brimming with confidence, and he could barely stay still. He bounced on the soles of his feets, eager to strike—

Splat.

Pink splashed across H’s chest once again as Dream cheered. He futilely raised a fist in his indignation. Once again, he’d been killed after two seconds of breathing. A flower nipped in the bud before it could bloom. H stopped to ponder for a few seconds, then forced himself to watch the Dodgebolt.

Quig shot Dream, and almost instantly Fwhip shot Michael. H slammed his hand on his thigh. “THERE WE GO!” he bellowed, nostrils flared. He knew it! If H couldn’t do it, his teammates would! They would cover for each other, and they would win. 

“Just breathe. The anxiety’s never been higher, but it’s fine,” H lightly stated. 

Joel then shot Techno, and H beamed like a proud father. “That’s my boy! That’s my bold Joel!”

But then Burren clutched and shot both Joel and Fwhip in quick succession. “He’s nuts with it!” H pointed out, acknowledging Burren’s skills. His team had just lost, but the score was 1-2. The Aqua Axolotls could bring this back. 

“That was a good round,” H insisted when the countdown started again. “Burren just hit his shots at the very end. That’s it.”

 H told Quig to get the bullet because H knew he would be targeted. Quig tried, and he managed to dodge one shot, but Dream got him in the end. Fwhip and H then picked up the bullets that were dispensed in the middle of the field.

“I want Techno,” H growled, aiming for the pink-haired guy once again, but he couldn’t help but marvel at Techno. “Techno’s movements are so good, dude. I can tell he’s been practicing.”

A blue bullet came very close to Techno, but he dodged it. H inhaled, then shot. The bullet soared and landed at Techno, and H exhaled. He’d done it once again.

“Nice, nice!” The Axolotls encouraged each other, and started to plan their next offence. As Quig and Fwhip yelled out warnings, H remained silent, totally focused on Dodgebolt. His feet moved even though he could barely feel them, his teammates were talking about how Pink was passing the bullets around, and H felt his chest constrict. He swallowed and tried to ignore the many pairs of eyes staring at him right now.

And then H was eliminated.

This time he audibly sighed, but he instantly switched his focus to Joel, the sole remaining Axolotl on the field. H managed to smile. “Joel, are you ready to clutch this?” It wasn’t a question.

Joel laughed nervously just as he shot Michael. Everybody “oohed” in excitement. A crafter from the lowly 3-G in Dodgebolt— what could he do? What could this newcomer do?

“He’s ready!” H declared, a mad glint in his eye. He had not doubted Joel, not even for one second. 

“First Dodgebolt, and he’s about to win a 1v3.” H was once again stating goals like they were facts, and he could not wipe that smile off his face. True, H had been eliminated without any chance to shoot, but it was Joel’s time to shine! “Look at this guy. Look at this boi!”

“LOOK AT HIM GO!” H hollered, then his voice softened as he directed his next words towards Joel. “Take your time and win this for us! Let’s gooo! Everyone’s gonna look back at you, the legend himself—“

Precisely at that moment, Joel shot Dream, and the crowd went wild. Aqua supporters desperately clutched each other, feeling the tension in the air. Pink supporters gasped, surprised that this 3-G dude could eliminate Dream and make it look so easy. 

“OOOOOHHH!”

“That’s one more, Joel, one more! You got two of them!”

“Let’s GOOOOO!”

“Take you time.” H once again used his admittedly loud voice to cover up the cheers and screams of their friends. Joel needed guidance right now. “Don’t shoot. Breathe. Breathe. Watch his movements and wait for him to turn around.”

Everybody, be they supporters of Aqua or Pink, had their eyes on Joel. Was this the birth of a new Dodgebolt star? A newcomer, who’d joined with his X-Life friends, his sleeping potential awakened when all his teammates were gone?

Joel lifted his arm, and shot.

Boom.

H flung his arms into the air, elated. “THAT’S MY BOY!” he screamed for the entire world to know. “THAT’S A 1V3!”

Joel was actually shaking as Fwhip and Joel smothered him with hugs. “That was a 1v3!” he whimpered, voice even more higher pitched than usual. “Gosh!”

“You know who you just killed?” H demanded almost aggressively. “The so-called number one Minecrafter, Dream, in a 1v3! You did it against all odds.”

Joel was taking deep breaths as he tried to calm down. “Oh gosh, Lizzie’s gonna be so proud of me. One more round to go.”

“They’re nervous, they’re nervous.”

“Take the win home, babey!”

H shot a look at Pink, and indeed they were nervous. No doubt Joel’s fantastic, never-seen-before 1v3 had totally stunned them. H cackled, but the game wasn’t over yet. 2 to 2. One more round, and it was either heaven or hell.

“We got this, we got this in the bag!”

The final round of Dodgebolt began, and the crowd screamed, the Championship reaching its climax. The cheers were so loud, H could barely hear his own thoughts. All he knew was hitting and dodging and winning. 

“I. Want. Techno,” H murmured yet again, his eyes never leaving his enemy. Techno was his kill, his prey. Techno caught him looking, and just grinned cheekily. 

H could barely register what was happening. His team shouted out names and asked each other who had the bullet. H answered their questions and hopped around the field to dodge bullets. It was like he was on autopilot. His lips trembled, his throat was dry, every cell in his body was thrumming and vibrating, and H felt like he could barely breathe, yet he had never felt so alive. 

Suddenly Quig was gone. Suddenly Fwhip took out Techno. H vaguely remembered telling Quig to remind him to breathe. Suddenly Joel and Fwhip were eliminated. And just as suddenly, it was only HBomb left. 

H walked over to the middle of his side of the field and picked up his two aqua bullets. He turned them over in his palm. Funny how these two tiny items were a matter of life and death. The shouts and screeches from the audience reached a crescendo and enveloped him. H cooly stared at his opponents.

Dream and Burren on the other side. Versus him, HBomb.

“Come on, H!” “You’ve got both bullets, H.” “Think about your shots! You got this.”

Everybody wanted him to win. Everybody depended on him to win. H could feel the weight of it all on his shoulders— not only his team, but his friends, the crafters, everybody in the community who just wanted an upset. H shivered despite his blood boiling. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead. 

“Breathe man, breathe.”

H sharply inhaled. Then his lips parted.

“I can’t believe I’m about to win this.”

That was right, wasn’t it? If he said it enough times, he would believe it and he would make it come true. A prediction. A promise. A prophecy. 

“H, you’re gonna clutch it!”

Joel’s encouraging voice made H grin, and he couldn’t wipe the grin off. He raised his gun and hit Burren squarely in the chest. The Aqua Axolotls roared, and the crowd mimicked it, just several times louder.

“H, you’ve never not hit a bow shot before. You are probably the best bower I’ve seen in my entire life.” Quig was rambling again, but H appreciated it. 

Now Dream had both bullets, and H was the target. He gritted his teeth. H could not afford to lose, not when there was so much on the line. His team, his friends. Fwhip had performed wonderfully, killing Techno when H couldn’t. Of course Quig was nuts as always. And Joel, Joel, his friend from 3-G. Joel, whom nobody expected to clutch in Dodgebolt, just won the first 1v3, and he did it against Dream. 

Everybody had done so well. It was up to H to continue their legacy. And so he had to win.

A shot whizzed past him, and H almost had a heart attack. “Nice, nice, you dodged one—“

Then it happened.

Fresh pink paint dribbled down his chest plate, staining H’s aqua jacket like a pale version of blood. The arena was loud, so loud as everybody screamed their lungs out. Everybody was in hysterics. Pink confetti rained down from the sky, covering the aqua splats of paint, covering the scoreboard, covering the Pink Parrots, covering H’s eyes.

H looked up, and smiled.

Then he burrowed his head in his arms and choked out a sob—

and the deed was done.

When you get out of bed

Don't end up stranded 

horrified with each stone

On the stage

My little dark age

A chorus of “GGs” rang out, and H knew he said “GG” as well, but he couldn’t register it. His skin was unnaturally hot yet cold. He vaguely realized Joel was hugging all three of them, and H naturally had to reciprocate.

“We did well, dudes.”

“Yeah, we did the best we could.”

The Axolotls nodded, but there was no denying that they were upset and disappointed. Especially after H boldly declared they would win and they had their hopes up.

They congratulated the winners and chatted for a while. As the other three went to wash up, H remained in the Championship arena. He stiffly sat on a bench, away from the screeching masses of Pink stans, his blue eyes still trained on the leaderboard. 

Aqua did so good. Pink Parrots just got the win in the end.

And it was a well deserved win! Burren totally carried Pink in Dodgebolt despite Techno and Dream being well known PvPers. H was happy for Pink. He genuinely was. 

HBomb just failed everybody. 

He had loudly declared himself the villain to the audience’s (and Stan Twitt’s) favourites, only to fail humiliatingly. Everybody was depending on him for an upset— of course his friends and the builder community cheered for him, but even people whom H had never spoken to voiced their support for Aqua.

To make things worse, everybody on his team popped off. Quig, Fwhip, they were totally killing it. Joel was a madman— he was forced into a 1v3 and survived to tell the tale. It was just HBomb who slipped up. HBomb, the leader, carrying the burden of winning in the final duel against Dream. It was HBomb who had disappointed everybody. 

Quite a number of participants were still hanging out in the arena, but all of them were wise not to disturb HBomb. Pink and Aqua had a quick chat after Dodgebolt and they congratulated each other with some smack talk interspersed. Techno had screamed “NOT TODAY, H. NOT AGAIN”, referencing when H defeated Techno last time, but H knew there was no ill will on both sides. Of course there wouldn’t be. H and Quig shared a class with Dream and Techno, and they all respected each other. 

It was just the freaking audience and Stan Twitt.

Boldly proclaiming Pink was always meant to win, and everybody else was irrelevant. H knew he and his team would receive hate if they won, so maybe it was better to be pushed into oblivion instead of tasting victory and paying the unfair price for it. 

H gripped his bench, muscles stiff. His eyeballs were oddly hot and dry. H wouldn’t cry; he was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a sore loser. He just—

“Sup, H.”

A familiar calm voice. H turned to see Fruit sit down next to him. Fruit had a small but slightly nervous smile on his face, as if to test the waters. H shifted so Fruit could have more space, and Fruit took it as a sign of welcome. 

“I know you didn’t see me, but I was cheering for you the entire time.”

H scoffed. “Aren’t you Dream and Techno’ sensei?”

“Yeah, but you’re my friend,” Fruit said as if it explained everything. “And besides, if anything, you guys deserve to win. You killed it at all the team games. I’m calling it— you guys are gonna be seen as the strongest team in all of Championship history.”

H’s lips quirked up. “The strongest team that lost. How ironic.”

“We deserved that win.” “H, I thought you were going to do it again.”

The words the Axolotls said floated back into H’s mind. Of course they reassured him it was okay and they were just unlucky. 

“I wanted to win for Joel,” H said abruptly. “All of us have won except for him. He did even better than I had expected but… I couldn’t win for him.”

“It’s alright. Joel’s proven his worth.”

H wrinkled his nose. “I know everyone is going to focus on Burren’s shots and not Joel’s 1v3. No offence to Burren obviously, he did great; it’s just that he’s on Pink and the vocal majority of the audience is very biased.”

Fruit sighed. “True, true.”

H liked talking to Fruit. Fruit was calm, had a softer voice than his, but could be wholly chaotic. But at the same time, he was kind and humble and genuine. Fruit always managed to sound unbiased and honest without being offensive. 

“You know, H, you’re a great team leader.”

“Am I now?”

Fruit laughed. “Yeah! You were going crazy during Dodgebolt. You were cheering but you didn’t forget to give practical advice. I know you were super stressed, but you still did your best to relieve your friends’ stress.”

H stared at his hands. “... I just want them to have a good time. But I am ecstatic that Joel popped off.”

“Yeah, and you kind of enabled it.”

H frowned and twisted his fingers. “No, no, no. Joel did it by himself. We did nothing.”

“You supported him,” Fruit argued. “You constantly hyped him up so he could be confident. Sure, Joel is skilled, but his potential had to be awakened, and you did that, H. You’ve always been good at awakening other people’s potential.”

H didn’t know what to say. His chest felt warm. H knew Fruit was being honest, and he wasn’t saying that to be nice or to comfort him after he lost. “... Well, I think these players have always been good.”

“They are, they just need someone to aggressively shake their shoulders and wake them up.” Fruit was grinning now. “And I think you’re the best at doing that, H.”

H tapped his chin. There was something magical and utterly satisfying about seeing Joel pop off when people didn’t expect him to. And H didn’t even want any credit. He just liked seeing people do good. Even if they weren’t on his team. 

“Well, I came to the Championship to make friends,” H finally said. “Winning’s never my first priority, even though I really want to win. And everyone wanted us to defeat Pink for an upset.”

Fruit shrugged. “Well, who says you can’t upset them in the next one?”

Alright. Maybe H had to let the fan favourites win so he and his future team could have a strong comeback, and when they won, they would become even more of a fan favourite. H was tired of being the villain to the conventional protagonists. He wanted to be the hero of his (and someone else’s) story. 

A smirk spread across H’s face, his usual vigour and energy returning to him. “I like your way of thinking, Fruityloops.”

Fruit stretched his arms and yawned. “Y’know, they’ve been calling the 8th Championship as the one with the legendary rivals teaming up. And they won against their common enemy— you.”

H snorted. “What is this, an anime? Assassination Classroom but unsatisfying? The underdogs, not the established favourites, usually win in anime.”

“Yeah, my point exactly. It’s boooring if those predicted to win actually win. But how about we try to win the next one?”

H raised an eyebrow. “We?”

(H tried to sound nonchalant, but his heart was leaping at the opportunity.)

Excitement glinted in Fruit’s eyes. “We used to be rivals, didn’t we? It was one-sided, because I didn’t see you as one, but still. We can be the “legendary rivals team up”.”

H chuckled. “A bootleg version of Pink Parrots. I like it. Or maybe they’re the bootleg version.”

“That’s it! And we can do what Pink did— find two other so-called “weaker” players and bring them to victory. No one will expect us to win— you lost this Championship, I got 14th last time. We know our worth, they don’t. So there won’t be any pressure!”

H laughed, but turned away. “Thanks for the entertaining idea, Fruit. I like it, I really do. But will Scott allow it? You’re still a S tier, despite your…” H waved his hands vaguely. “Last placement.”

“If he allowed Dream and Techno to be in the same team, why not us?” Fruit said airily. “But you have a point. You’re crazy strong, H. If you won the 8th Championship, there would practically be no chance for me to team up with you. But you lost this one, so Scott would think it’s balanced.”

H drummed his fingers on his thigh. “Interesting. So losing the 8th Championship might be a blessing in disguise. I like it. You’re right; we should team up.”

Fruit playfully punched H. “Ohhh yeah. That’s awesome!”

H shifted his body, and allowed a small smile to spread across his face. Now that he had calmed down and talked to Fruit, he felt a lot better. His muscles were more relaxed, and he once again felt hope blossom in his heart. 

Losing the 8th Championship wasn’t the end. In fact, it was just the beginning.

H stood up. “Thanks for the chat, Fruity, I needed it. I’m going to find the rest of the Axolotls.”

“Wait.” Fruit peered up at H. “Which two are we inviting to our team?”

H had his signature grin on his face. 

“Are you thinking who I’m thinking?”

(Out of the corner of H’s eye, he saw four yellow-clad figures scurry away, as if hiding from the spotlight.)

The feelings start to rot

One wink at a time

So Pink Parrots won, and the Yellow Yaks did not get an upset as they would’ve liked. They were still bummed about getting ninth, and had done their best to keep their spirits up, but all of them were physically and mentally exhausted. 

They thought it was an exciting Dodgebolt, and stuck around to chat with Fwhip. Unfortunately, the audience members were now allowed to enter the arena, and the arena was swarmed with people. 

They went to congratulate Fwhip and the rest of the Axolotls (H was not there), and the Yaks actually planned to linger longer, but then they started to hear comments directed towards them.

“I love the hermits, so I’m sad they’re always getting ninth!” somebody wailed.

“They used to place sixth or seventh. I think they should team up with people outside of the hermits and 3-G. I suggest that they should split for one time and try other teammates.”

“I know right, that’s what I’m thinking! But Techno plus Dream is too OP, and that’s not fair. Hopefully the hermits can have a comeback!”

“But the important thing is that they have fun!”

The hermit fans nodded, but their conversation was rudely interrupted by a troll.

“They suck because they’re bad at PvP, they suck at fast reaction times, they suck at performance under pressure, and they suck at… I dunno, practicing.”

The fans glared at the troll. “Hey, don’t bring negativity here! Don’t criticize if it’s not constructive!”

Unfortunately, that troll attracted more trolls, and it snowballed from there. 

“Lol you got destroyed,” someone casually stated, but quickly added, “THIS IS A JOKE, YOU DID WELL, JUST STAN PINK PARROTS AND GREEN GUARDIANS DJSJNDISNSJDHEJ—”

“The builders lost.”

“You sucked lol.”

“Don’t know why False is called the Queen of PvP. Queen of Builders maybe, but bottom of the barrel at PvP. They’re all PvP noobs.”

False stiffened. Ren grabbed her arm, and hissed in her ear, “Let’s go. Not worth our attention.”

But the mean shouts continued. The Yaks had had haters before, everyone in MCYT school had those, and they knew better than to listen to them, but it was still very upsetting. The Yellow Yaks’ fans were protesting, but the vocal minority remained, well, vocal.

“GIT GUD SUCKERS!! Hermitcrafters, you’re bad at this!”

“Wow they even suck at their main game— Build Mart. Aren’t they builders? Lol.”

“They’re a Battle Box losing streak team right here.”

“If you keep on saying you hate this and hate that, just go back to Hermitcraft. Thank God you didn’t team with Dream or Technoblade, you will just make them fall.”

The words stung more than they should, and False blanched. Next to her, Cub looked very pale. Pearl was frowning. False could feel Ren’s grip on her arm instinctively tighten. 

There were only a handful of trolls, but negative comments sadly had a bigger impact than the positive comments. Seeing this, the fans of the Yaks spoke up, using their volume to drown out the problematic minority. 

“They’re just jealous they’re not part of the Yellow Yaks! Yaks for life!”

“Well done guys, you did amazing even if you didn’t win! #NotLast!”

“Yeah, I loved it! You’ll get Top 3 next time!”

“Yass to False’s PvP brain! Woohoo!”

A hint of a smile appeared on False’s face. So people still believed in her. Nice.

“I think Team Hermitcraft is decently good at Survival Games since their strategy really works for them and Rocket Spleef. Sadly these games weren’t chosen. But now they know how Skyblockle works, I think they might be good at it as well. Rooting for you guys as always for the next Championship!”

“Honestly I love the way that you guys play. You didn’t get last place and although I root for all teams, I have grown a liking to the Hermitcraft team. Hermitcraft Represent!”

“Aww, what a really supportive community for really bad Championship players.”

The troll was speaking again, and everyone glared at them. “They’ll win, mark my words,” somebody seethed.

Ren was looking worried. “Guys, let’s go.” He turned to their fans with a smile. “Thanks for the support, really appreciate it.”

Ren wrapped his arms around his friends and ushered them away from the crowd. False swallowed the lump in her throat. The insecurity she’d been wrestling with returned full force. How awful was it that mere words had such an impact on the morale they had been precariously building up. 

“They’re rude,” False blurted out before she could think. “So rude.”

Cub nodded. “True! Like man, we’re just… existing.”

“They’re annoying. Who do they think they are?” Pearl muttered. “Try participating in the Championship yourselves then. Screw you.”

Pearl’s intensity made them all laugh a little, but the laughter swiftly died down. They had to face the harsh reality that they had gotten ninth three times in a row.  

“It’s all good, guys!” Ren somehow managed to have a genuine smile on his face. “We’ve got our own fans, and those haters of ours are immature kiddos who have their heads stuck in their own butts! Like, we have these amazing uniforms and fanart. They appreciate us. We appreciate each other.”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

The Yaks hugged each other one final time. They agreed to meet up for dinner to chat, but now they all needed a shower and some rest. Ren and Cub opted to go to the 3-H classroom to wash up like they always did, but False wanted some alone time, so she excused herself and went home. 

The way home was… weird, because False usually had multiple friends with her. At the very least, she had her neighbour Ren. But now it suited False, because she was so tired she didn’t want to speak. 

She entered her house and threw her dirty team jacket into the laundry basket. False winced at the large bruise on her arm; it seemed to be getting worse. She stepped into the shower and let the water wash away the sweat and blood. Maybe it could wash away the negative thoughts too.

False sighed and rested her head on the cool wall. She really was pathetic, wasn’t she? She was supposed to be good at PvP. She’d saved her friends multiple times from people fighting them. She knew she shouldn’t let those silly haters affect her, but she was human after all, and the words hurt. 

She methodically dried her hair, making sure not to move her left arm too much since it was hurt. She was still thinking about the Championship and her failure and the disappointment and the pain when—

Her phone vibrated.

Ren: Meeting up in 30 mins? :D

And the engine's failed again

All limits of disguise

The humor's not the same

Coming from denial

The dinner was a mostly quiet affair as Pearl had expected. The Yaks made small talk— Cub said he was going to sleep over at Scar’s, they asked each other about their injuries, Ren pronounced “lasagne” in a weird way.

Silence fell over the quartet when they realized they ran out of lighthearted things to say. Pearl remembered their last dinner before the 8th Championship, which was a mere twenty four hours ago, she realized with a laugh. It felt like an eternity since then. Back then, they had oh-so-hopefully, oh-so-boldly declared they would get seventh. Someone (was it False?) had even said the four of them would get into Dodgebolt one day. How far were they from their dream?

Now with battered bodies and bruised egos, it was painful to think about their hopeful promise. So no one mentioned it.

Pearl noticed that even Ren, who was the most vocal about his support, was quiet. Ren moodily picked at his food, while False was busy fiddling with the ice pack on her left arm. Cub just stared at his glass of water. Pearl gulped. 

They had been demoralized from the very beginning, when they were predicted to get ninth, but they’d supported each other. They faced the lows of Battle Box and Build Mart and tried to conquer their insecurities. Alas, they still got ninth. Pearl still got 33rd despite her best efforts. Not to mention their haters were enjoying their failure. For so long, all four of them struggled to remain optimistic. Ren in particular always had a nice word to say about anyone and anything. Ren had that special ability to make objectively bad situations sound positive. When Ren said they were placing low to give the others a head start, Pearl chimed in and said they were giving them a handicap. All four of them tried, but Ren tried the most, and everybody knew. 

But they were utterly exhausted now, having spoken every encouragement they could think of, having thought of every way their predicament could be seen as helpful. So everybody was silent.

As unavoidable the silence was, it was also unbearable. 

So they decided to call it a day and rest early. There was nothing else they could do. They mumbled their goodbyes and split up— the hermits going in one direction (Pearl knew they lived close to each other) and Pearl in another. 

As Pearl briskly walked home, she found many thoughts occupying her brain, many thoughts that hadn’t appeared when she was with the three hermits. Pearl knew she was the odd one out— she was always the odd one out, even though the hermits were perfectly friendly and welcoming. In fact, Pearl was one of the rare few who were considered an “honorary hermit” by the hermits. But there was no hiding that circumstance-wise, she was different.

For starters, Pearl was not in 3-H. Sure, many mistook her as a member of 3-H, but she was part of the main campus. She wasn’t isolated like the hermits (although all four of them were looked down).

And secondly, out of the four, Pearl was the only one who had actually practiced. The three hermits often said they would do better next time because they would practice, but Pearl, who practiced every day, did not get a better rank. In fact, she even dropped a few ranks, from 28th to 31st to 33rd. She knew her skills had improved, it just wasn’t significant compared to the progress everyone had. 

The hermits did not try, and they got an unsatisfactory rank.

Pearl tried, she tried so hard, and still she got an unsatisfactory rank.

At least the hermits had hope. Pearl had disappointment and frustration. 

That was why the hermits didn’t really mention practice during dinner, since they didn’t want to rub salt in the wound. But the hermits did say they wanted someone to teach them, and Pearl seemed to be their favourite choice. Except Pearl wasn’t even good at parkour.

Of course Pearl could not say that to the hermits— after all, she was the outsider. She put in a lot more effort in the 8th Championship than they did. She received regular training from the main campus teachers while the 3-Hermitcrafters could only rely on Scott and their friends. And as the hermits’ friend, Pearl would be more than delighted to help them. 

She just wasn’t good enough.

She’d practiced, but she was still on the same level of those who had not practiced. 

And definitely not on the level of her 3-G peers who even got into Dodgebolt. 

Pearl sighed and rubbed her arms self-consciously. The streetlamps cast a solitary shadow, and Pearl felt oddly ostracized even though she just had dinner with friends. 

Pearl inhaled. No, she wouldn’t be stupid. She was Pearlescentmoon, a builder, a crafter, and not a quitter. Her hands balled up into shaky fists. 

Yes, she failed in the 8th Championship. No, she wasn’t giving up.

Maybe she needed to practice more. Maybe she needed to practice more efficiently. Pearl would find out why her practices didn’t work like she thought they would.

But for now, Pearl allowed herself to be upset. She allowed herself to forget about her worries and insecurities. 

But there was one thing Pearl was sure of. 

She would return for the 9th Championship, and she would return stronger than ever. 

I grieve in stereo

The stereo sounds strange

I know that if you hide

It doesn't go away

Cub said bye to False and Ren and approached Scar’s house. As tired as he was after the 8th Championship and dinner with the Yaks, he was never too tired to not appreciate Scar’s beautiful creations.

Scar’s place was a charming brick house with a prismarine roof. It was covered with vines, ivy, different flowers, and the house was practically buried by the numerous trees in Scar’s back and front yards. It looked like it came straight out of a fairy tale (and Scar probably took inspiration from that, considering his love for Disney). The yard was jam-packed with items like a BBQ grill, a tent (and Jellie’s special turquoise-pink-white tent), a hammock, and even a treehouse that Scar and Cub built together and used for stargazing. A greenhouse filled with exotic plants was tucked in the corner, a man-made waterfall next to it. The hermits always had a Good Time at GoodTimesWithScar’s place (Mumbo cried when he saw Scar’s cute little mushrooms). Every hermit could craft and build, but not a lot of them could breathe life into their creations like Scar did. Now that it was dark, lanterns lit up the yard (the yard was at least twice the size of the actual house). A soft golden glow emitted from the glass windows. 

Scar went out to open the gate for Cub. They made small talk as they walked down the cobblestone path to the house. Cub had slept at Scar’s place so many times he had his own pair of slippers, his toothbrush and his mug. 

“Sooo… what do you wanna do tonight?” Scar asked with a warm smile.

“I’m tired… maybe I’ll just sit down.”

The inside of Scar’s house was just as pretty as the exterior, except it was way messier. Chestmonsters littered the floor, while sets of Legos and Jellie plushies lined the shelves. Cub sat on Scar’s couch as Scar went into the kitchen to make hot chocolate. Cub sighed and hugged his knees to his chest. He felt his back ache, probably from when he was knocked to the ground during Battle Box. 

As if sensing his distress, Jellie walked over and sat on Cub’s lap. She purred, and Cub petted her head. Cub couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. Spending time with his best friend and his cat was very relaxing and healing.

Scar returned with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, and Cub gratefully smiled. They sat next to each other on the couch, Scar fiddling with his multicoloured “magic crystals” on the coffee table. There was a comfortable silence between them, but Cub didn’t want it to be silent. 

Cub exhaled, and started to speak. “Truth be told, I’m not feeling so good after the Championship.”

Scar slowly set down his mug. Scar had never been in the Championship, in fact, he rarely was in competitive events, so he couldn’t fully understand Cub, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“Want to talk about it?”

“... I feel like I let everyone down,” Cub confessed, his voice heavy. “I got the worst rank, I’m not good at movement or PvP, and I… I even suggested a strategy that backfired. I know it’s not wholly my fault, but I feel like it is.”

Scar soothingly rubbed Cub’s back. “Yeah, sometimes your silly emotions make you believe in things that aren’t true. It’s okay, Cub. I know you did your best, and that’s enough. I know your teammates, the Yellow Yaks, feel the same way.”

Cub didn’t reply. He was too tired to do so. So he rested his head on Scar’s shoulder and two sat there for a while. Jellie meowed at Cub, sounding a little concerned. Cub quietly chuckled and scratched under Jellie’s chin. 

“I’m alright, Jellie, just need some time to process it and get over it.”

The cheerful and optimistic Scar always did wonders at lifting others’ spirits. Being in a place Scar designed, seeing his cat, or even drinking Scar’s MooPop, they all reminded Cub of Scar. It was like Scar’s sweet and sunny personality permeated everything he touched, making his creations overflow with Scar-ness. And just being by Scar’s side made Cub feel a lot better.

“... What do you want me to do?”

Cub looked up to see Scar’s forest green eyes, twinkling and filled with warmth. Sure, Scar cared, he cared a lot, but he also didn’t want to overwhelm Cub when he was visibly tired. 

Cub thought of all the fun things he could do with Scar- work on the Aque Town lego set, rewatch the launch of a rocket, gaze at the stars, play with Jellie-

And Cub made up his mind.

“Just stay here.”

And so they sat, side by side, enjoying each other’s companionship, quietly sipping their hot chocolate, until Cub’s eyelids inevitably started to droop.

If you get out of bed

And find me standing all alone

Open-eyed

Burn the page

My little dark age

During the dinner with the Yaks, Ren was silent, probably having run out of jokes to make. Could False blame him? He was always the one who made them feel better. He somehow managed to stay positive despite all three of his friends being in despair. It must be really tough for him.

The three hermits said bye to Pearl, then False and Ren said bye to Cub. Soon they would reach their neighbourhood and say bye to each other. False exhaled.

The road home was quiet, the only sound being their footsteps and the chirping of crickets. False’s left arm continued to throb, the pain even more noticeable in the silence. 

… False had always been thankful for Ren, but she hadn’t realised how important his presence was until he stopped talking. Maybe she’d taken him for granted— she was probably closest to Ren and Cub out of the Kingdomcrafters, not to mention they went to school together every day. Plus Ren had loyally been with her in every Championship. 

They had reached the tree in front of their houses. The tree they met at every morning. False gulped. Ren, who was walking in front of her, cleared his throat. 

“Well, I guess this is it. See you soon.” 

.

.

.

It would be easy. It would be easy for her to say two words— a simple “see ya” and she could go home and sleep and forget about everything. It should’ve been easy. 

But it wasn’t. Because getting ninth for the third time in a row sucked, and False wanted to scream. But it was Ren who made it bearable, with his silly jokes and comforting smiles and reassuring words. It was Ren who tried non-stop to cheer them up for practically the entire day. Maybe she was just used to him, but it felt… wrong and hollow and strange and empty when he quieted down. And without his words to preoccupy her, her thoughts did, scolding her for letting everyone down, and convincing her winning was hopeless and she should just stop participating to save herself from misery. 

And False thought of going home, tucking herself in her bed, staring at the ceiling, with nothing and no one to distract her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep as her thoughts would keep her up all night, and it was— it was unbearable. Stewing in her anguish, spiralling into a pit of despair, clumsily attempting to keep her emotions under lock and key only to fail. 

Sometimes being alone sucked. 

And it wasn’t just her. They were all suffering. Ren, especially. How bad he must’ve felt seeing his friends so miserable, yet knowing he must be cheerful for their sake? He was mentally exhausted too, wasn’t he? And while she knew they didn’t like to bother anyone, this time, it was too much to keep it in. They couldn’t pretend it was fine and move on. It was too much, too much, too much—

Too much for them to bear on their own.

.

.

.

And False couldn’t take it anymore.

Normally False would’ve felt awkward, or guilty, or something. But today she was just tired. Oh-so-very-tired. Too tired to give a damn about anything else. She was sure if she let herself, she would just collapse on the ground. 

She took a step forward, then one more. 

“Hmm?” Ren sounded confused, yet his tone was kind.

In a rare act of vulnerability, False lowered her head—

and uttered one single word. 

Chapter Text

This is an anthem for the homesick

For the beaten

The lost, the broke, the defeated

A song for the heartsick

For the standbys

Living life, in the shadow of the goodbye

Ren’s house always had a distinct smell— it wasn’t a bad smell, nor was it good, it was just a Rendog smell, and the hermits were pretty familiar with it.

Anyway.

False curled up in a corner on Ren’s couch, her banana hoodie over her head, a spoon stuck in her mouth. Ren apparently had a huge tub of caramel ice cream, and he offered to split it with False since “desserts make everything better” (and he couldn’t eat it on his own). Ren said he bought it on a grocery trip with Scar, Bdubs, and Grian, and they had a long argument about how “caramel” should be pronounced (mostly the British way versus the American way). False grinned. It was just like the hermits to bicker over stupid things.

“Sorry for crashing in again,” False said absentmindedly, letting the caramel ice cream melt on her tongue. 

Ren laughed lightly. “I’m just returning the favour when you let me crash at your place.”

“Yeah, you forgot your keys like the derp you are. Maybe I should’ve locked you out and you would’ve gone to Iskall’s to beg,” False murmured.

“How’s your arm? You need some ice?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

As False held the ice pack against her bruise, she asked, “You didn’t get too hurt, did you?”

“Only my dignity,” Ren joked. “But seriously? I’m alright, just a little scratch here and there. But you guys were pretty beat up.”

False gulped. “You were the only exception to the Pink Parrots’ bloodlust.”

“Just my luck, I suppose.”

False glanced around her. Ren’s house was geometric and mostly wooden, with occasional accents of black and orange. His walls were covered with photos of his family and friends, and his shelves were full of trinkets from his childhood (Ren had an oddly specific but funny story for each one). A half-finished Star Wars Lego set laid on a tabletop, while a guitar was propped in a corner. 

“Sooo, what did you think about the Championship?” False asked, wanting to start the conversation. “Be honest.”

“We did our best, it just wasn’t enough,” Ren bluntly replied. False nodded in agreement, then when she realised he couldn’t see her, she replied with a half-hearted “yeah”. 

“Do you have the footage you captured on the drones? I wanna see it.”

Ren showed the footage of their 8th Championship on the television. As they played through it, they occasionally paused to comment on what they could improve on (they both winced when they reached Battle Box, and skipped their battle with Pink Parrots).

It was False’s way of dealing with her disappointment in herself. Failure was the mother of success, right? So she should analyze her mistakes.

But soon they both realized they were commenting on the same things, echoing each other’s words. They were too slow, too inexperienced. They lacked communication and confidence. That was what they kept on saying.

“We really need to practice more,” False muttered.

“But… we need more than that,” Ren pointed out. “We need to learn how to do stuff… like that!” he gestured at the screen when someone did a flawless jump during Ace Race. “And no amount of practicing on our own can achieve that. We need teachers.”

“So you’re saying we need to find Fruitberries and have him coach us?”

“Yeah! But honestly,” Ren peered at the television screen again. “We need a leader of some sorts in the game. Someone who’s experienced in the Championship. Someone who knows the strategies. Someone who knows us well enough to assign roles for us. Cause no matter how good our individual performances are, we need to work as a team. You know what I’m saying?”

False hummed. “And we're not that person.”

“No,” Ren agreed. “Not yet.”

False was still curled up the corner of Ren’s couch, as if making herself as small as possible. 

“... We’ll get better if we practice hard, right?”

“You sound uncertain, False.”

False could not meet Ren’s eyes. “I mean, I don’t want to be a pessimist, but Pearl… she practiced super hard. And she was disappointed by her performance.”

“I get what you feel. It’s like, no one wants to put in so much effort and time into something, only for it not to pay off. Especially for people like us whose passion is creating and designing stuff, not, let’s say, parkour.”

False let out a hollow laugh. “I feel terrible for saying this, but I don’t want to waste my time even though I want to get better.”

“Amen! And like Pearl said, we’re builders. We’re crafters. This isn’t our area of expertise, and I think… it really shows. Sorry for being negative, by the way.” Ren shot False a brief look.

“Nah dude, it’s fine. In fact, I’ll be surprised if you’re still totally optimistic, kinda like you during the Championship.”

It was a relief that Ren was admitting to the negative emotions he was feeling.

“... Do you think this is worth it?” Ren’s voice was small.

False turned. “What’s worth it?”

Ren shrugged. “Winning? Getting better? I mean, we have a lot of fun each Championship, and I know we’ve definitely improved, but is it really… worth investing more time?”

“It’s worth investing if you like joining the Championships. It’s as simple as that,” was False’s reply.

Ren frowned, but said, “I agree.”

There was a pause, then Ren continued hesitatingly, “... We’re joining the Championship to prove a point, yeah? That even the hermits can do good and maybe win? Like…” he twiddled with his thumbs. “You know we can get back to the main campus when— if we win. We’re… not doing that, right?”

False could hear the anxiety in Ren’s tone. She reached over and patted his shoulder. “If you’re not leaving, I’m not leaving,” she reassured him. But Ren’s words caused her to think about her motivation for being in the Championship. 

“I won’t lie, at first I wanted to win so I could prove myself as worthy of rejoining the main campus,” False confessed. “Like, you know I got to 3-H unfairly. If it wasn’t for Stan Twitt, Iskall and I would be in 3-C. I only wanted to know if I was good enough to return. But I didn’t really want to return, because how could I leave 3-Hermitcraft?”

“Then I realized how wide the gap was between the hermit teams and other teams, and sort of… resigned myself. I just enjoyed the Championships and spending time with my friends, but then…” False winced. “Remember how someone pushed Scar after the 5th Championship? And we got into a fight after the 6th? People were saying we didn’t deserve to be even in the Championship. So I got mad.”

False inhaled, the unpleasant memories filling her brain. Her blood still boiled months later. “I stopped caring about the main campus. I stopped caring about how I should be in the main campus. People were hurting me and my friends, and they kept on looking down on us. I just want to prove everyone wrong. Cause an upset. Heck, even get a 7th when they said we would get 9th.” Her fists trembled, and she looked at Ren, fire in her eyes. “Because we don’t deserve their mocking. And I’ll do anything to stop people from hurting my friends.”

“And I…” False laughed wryly, and looked away. She knew she was just venting now, but she needed to get it off her chest, and Ren was a good listener. “I thought I was capable. I thought I could bring everyone up. After all, every one of you guys see me as the PvP Queen. At the very least, I should be able to pop off individually if I can’t bring my team to do that. But I…” she sighed, suddenly feeling stupid and small. “Couldn’t.”

“Just because I'm good at PvP among the hermits doesn’t mean I’m good among the main campus students,” False muttered. “A-and people had high expectations for me too. Fruit said I would do good, but I just—” She thought of Battle Box, and shivered. “I just hide behind everyone else, using my gun, but my aim isn’t that accurate, and I feel horrible that I suck at something I’m supposedly good at.”

“Listen False, when we say you’re good at PvP, we don’t just mean your skills.” Of course Ren was quick to reply. “Like, you’re brave, and you can be really calm even in dangerous situations, and man, you’re always willing to lend a hand. Plus you’re patient with us even if we’re noobs.”

False laughed nervously. “You flatter me.”

Ren cleared his throat. “But… I am sorry if you feel… pressured, in a way, to “carry” us.”

“It’s fine. It honestly serves as motivation, because I know I can do better.”

“Yeah… just don’t overstress yourself!’”

That reminded False of something. “True, but don’t be too… I dunno, be in denial?”

“Ahhh, this is about me, isn’t it?” Ren chortled to show he didn’t take any offence. “I was trying to cheer us up!” he whined.

“And you did. You did a pretty good job, I think.” False smiled. “Thanks for boosting our morale. But…”

“Yeah, we sucked,” Ren deadpanned, saying exactly what False was planning to say. They both laughed. “We’re bad compared to everyone else.”

“I— yeah. Can’t argue with that.”

And somehow, it didn’t hurt when they both admitted they sucked. They turned their attention back to the TV and continued to rewatch their performance.

Somewhere along the way, they stopped focusing on the 8th Championship and started complaining about their school and its principal. Because it was much more fun and liberating being angry than sad.

“I mean, dude, how the heck are we supposed to get back?” Ren exclaimed, slapping his hand on the couch. “The school offers no support except for Mr. Major, and we can’t rely on the main campus kids to train us because they’ve got their duties too. The school doesn't want us to get back, man.”

“Exactly.” False nodded sagely. “They’re making it hard for us because in Stan’s weird system, we’re at the bottom.”

“The cannon fodder isn't supposed to win,” Ren commented darkly. “Although I suppose everyone else is just canon fodder in our eventual underdogs story.”

“We’re going to overthrow Stan Twitt!” False cheered. “Watch out, Stanley, we’re coming for ya!”

“We’re gonna kick your butts!” Ren declared, pumping his fists. “Prepare to get destroyed with the power of friendship and puppies!”

There was a pause.

“Sorry for being so weird, late night Rendog has no brain to mouth filter,” Ren chuckled. 

False yawned. “It is kinda late…” she checked her phone. “Oh goodness, it’s almost 1am.”

Ren bellowed, “WHAT? Oh no, Xisuma’s gonna kill us.”

“It’s fineeee,” False waved a hand. “I’m pretty sure Etho is still up.”

But they couldn’t deny that steam was running out, and their passionate rants about Stan came to a halt. The frustration and sadness began to settle in once again, and Ren just wanted to get it out. 

Ren switched off the TV, and the room instantly became darker. The duo became silent. There wasn’t more they could say after their impassioned Stan Twitt vent, but yet, the stubborn emotions remained. Ren had tried so hard to say positive, but all of his walls had been broken down that night. Ren glimpsed his guitar in his peripheral vision.

“Hope you don’t mind if I play something,” Ren said a little shyly. “I mean, I’m probably going to suck at it because I haven’t practiced, but I just want… express myself.”

“Sure. Pretend I’m not here or something.”

“Just plug your ears!” Ren jokingly said. He fetched his guitar and his fingers fell into their familiar position. A song popped into his head, but it took him a few more moments to remember the chords. 

Normally he would’ve felt really nervous and awkward, especially with someone in the room with him, but he was too tired to care, and False was probably too tired to notice his mistakes. 

So he started strumming the guitar, finding the chords he needed. He inhaled, and began, his voice shaky.  

“Drink up baby, stay up all night. With the things you could do— you won't but you might…”

Ren’s voice cracked painfully, and he chuckled a little to ease his awkwardness. He ignored the little blunder and continued.

“The potential you'll be, that you'll never see…the promises you'll only make…”

Okay, now the lyrics were getting really personal, but that was the point, wasn’t? Sing awfully just to get those damn emotions out of his system. With that thought in mind, Ren strummed a little more vigorously.

Ren’s fingers slipped. “Whoops,” he muttered. He took a deep breath to stabilize himself.

“Drink up with me now, and forget all about the pressure of days, do as I say…”

He played a bit more confidently now that he was reacquainted with the guitar chords. He still made mistakes, and sometimes there was a pause as he figured out what chords were next. 

And so in the dead of the night, his voice echoed in the otherwise quiet room.

False opened her eyes. She could not sleep despite being exhausted. It was like she had drank coffee, except worse. 

Every time she tried to clear her mind, memories of the Championship filled her head. She had that itch to win, that itch to succeed, but all that haunted her were their losses and failures. She knew they could do better, she wanted to do better, and suddenly she was so obsessed with “being better”.

Chill, False, she sternly told herself. You need a break right now. And you WILL regret it if you stay up. 

Ren was singing. Everybody liked hearing Ren sing. A lot of the hermits were surprisingly good singers (and rappers, as Hermitgang had proved). 

Ren’s voice was raw and sincere. False didn’t know what he was singing, but it was nice and comforting. Occasionally she could hear a wrong chord. But it was still nice. Ren wasn’t playing for anyone, he was playing for himself, and False just happened to be there. 

“... Do what I say and I'll make you okay… and drive them away, the images stuck in your head…” 

False shut her eyes, and told herself to relax. It was easy, because Ren’s singing voice was relaxing. She breathed. In, out, in, out. 

Ren continued to sing, his voice getting slightly louder. “People you’ve been before, that you don't want around anymore...” 

“... that push, and shove, and won't bend to your will…” His voice became softer, until it was almost a whisper. “I'll keep them still…”

Ren started singing the next verse, and False could vaguely recognize the melody now. She subconsciously started swaying her body to the beat. 

“Drink up…  look at the stars… you again… between the bars…”

False had stopped focusing on the words. His voice was soothing, and she didn’t need words to understand that.  

“Separate from the rest… you the best… and keep the things you forgot…”

Ren was approaching the chorus, which False was quite familiar with now.

“People… before … you don't want… anymore… that push, and shove, and won't bend to your will…”

An exhale.

“I'll keep them still.”

There was peaceful silence for a while, then Ren started a new song. The lyrics floated into False’s mind, then floated out. 

“... it is freezing… we have to walk… turning their lights off…”

Funny… she wanted to stay awake… to actually understand what he was singing… 

“-killed all the pain, but what was normal…. by the morning seems insane…”

… but she was drifting off.

“The reasons all have run away… 

but the feeling never did.”

She wanted to tell him she enjoyed hearing him sing, but she couldn’t muster the energy to do so...

“'Cause what is simple in the moonlight by the morning never is… it was so simple in the moonlight, now it’s so complicated…”

False shifted her body so she was more comfortable. Her head lolled and her mind drifted away… 

“It was so simple in the moonlight, so simple in the moonlight, 

so simple in the…”

This is a call to the soldiers

The fighters

The young, the innocent, and righteous

H was in Dodgebolt again. The crowd was just as loud as last time, and just as imposing. His stomach lurched. 

He knew he was on a blue team. The shade of it… was it aqua? Sapphire? Blue-black? Teal? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. 

All he knew he was against Pink again. He was against Dream again.

H liked Dream; Dream was his friend, but a formidable Dodgebolt enemy. And H wanted to win.

He glanced at his blue teammates. He felt like he knew them so, so well, but their faces were blurred. With a jolt of horror, H realized he didn’t remember who they were. His chest ached. He reached for them, but they just slipped away, murmuring excuses about preparing for Dodgebolt and washroom break and whatnot. H began to panic. Why wouldn’t he remember his own friends who were very dear to him?

“H? H!”

H gasped. Finally, a voice he knew. He grabbed the familiar person in front of him— Fwhip. He clutched Fwhip’s shoulders as if his life depended on it. 

“Dude, you alright?” Fwhip asked, a concerned expression on his face. “We’re facing Pink in Dodgebolt in a few minutes.”

“I feel sick,” H told him honestly. 

A bell sounded, and H turned around. The two remaining Blue (?) members were coming back. “Who-who are they—” H attempted to ask, but when he turned again, Fwhip was gone. 

H thought hard. His two teammates must be Quig and Joel. After all, they were in a team… they were in Aqua Axolotls. H knew that well. So why, why couldn’t he see their faces?

His thoughts were interrupted by screaming from the crowd. H glanced at the Championship participants around the Dodgebolt arena, their faces blurry yet comfortingly familiar. But beyond that, the audience stands were once again flooded with pink. 

Ah, that was right. Pink.

H stared at his opponents. Sometimes Techno was there, sometimes he wasn’t, but Dream was always standing there, even more vivid and solid than H’s friend Fwhip. The two other Pink members blurred in and out of view, but H somehow knew they were Dream (and Techno’s?) friends. Maybe they were members of the student council? 

Either way, Pink was highly favoured by the audience due to the presence of popular students. And H was once again with his friends (two of them were faceless, but H felt fiercely protective of them). 

H wanted to win.

He wasn’t sure if he even had a noble motive to winning, he just knew he wouldn’t disappoint everyone if he won. And he would be happy. 

Dodgebolt began, and H numbly yelled out others. He didn’t know what he was saying, he was probably getting the names terribly wrong (since he didn’t even know who were playing), but somehow, his Blue (Aqua?) team understood. Paintballs splattered players on both sides.

And then H’s team lost the first round.

The audience roared, excited for Pink. H felt his heart sink. He had a terrible feeling.

“I feel sick,” he said once again, but no one was there.

He desperately looked for his teammates, but they had once again faded into the crowd.

The second round began, and H was swiftly eliminated. He barely had time to breathe when two of his teammates were eliminated, leaving a faceless teammate in the arena. In a situation H was far too familiar with.

1v3.

Something stirred inside H— he’d seen 1v3s. Joel had won one against Dream. But he didn’t know if the faceless teammate was Joel. Though it didn’t matter, H had hope.

H was shouting his support, and the people around him were screaming “DO A SMALLISHBEANS!”. H watched with bated breath as his teammate lifted their gun and shot—

Hit one.

The audience erupted. H grinned. He realized prior to that, he hadn’t smiled once in this Dodgebolt. 

Hit two.

Something swelled inside H— pride, hope, desperation? He wanted to scream his teammates’ name, but realized he still didn’t know who they were. (It was probably Joel, given the familiar situation, but H couldn’t be too sure.)

And if Joel won, why couldn’t this teammate?

But then—

Splat.

The teammate was gone. Pink had won their second round. H’s heart dropped and shattered. 

Back to the drawing board. Back to losing. Except this time it was more important than ever. If they lost the final round, it was all over. 

H was enveloped by the familiar yet terrifying cheers from everybody. They meant well, they supported him, they were excited for him, and H truly, truly appreciated it—

It was just too much. 

H felt suffocated, his chest constricting, his vision narrowing until he saw nothing but pink and pink and pink—

He blinked, and he was back. His fingers were sweaty, but he grabbed his gun firmly. 

He had to do it. He had to win this. He had to win with a reverse sweep.

Except Dream and his friends were putting up a hard fight. Pink and blue paint flew, and soon, H’s three teammates had fresh splats of pink paint on their clothes.

It was only H left.

Just like it had been.

He stared at his gun, but he suddenly couldn’t move. The crowd’s roars reached a crescendo, but H only felt horror. The walls were constricting, the ground shaking, and he felt so sick—

It was all on him.

Everyone’s attention was on him.

And so he had to win.

He had to, didn’t he? Or else his Blue/Aqua/whatever team would lose all three rounds. The first clean sweep. It would hell for his team, heaven for the other. He was from 3-A. He was capable.

So he had to win. 

He shakily raised his gun and shot. He missed.

Dream was somehow there again, exactly like the last time. H jumped to avoid the shots, but his limbs felt like they were made of lead. 

And then H saw it happen in slow motion.

A pink paintball bullet hurtling towards him.

And somehow H knew he could not avoid this shot even if he tried. 

Pink blossomed from his heart, staining his clothes, staining his skin, staining his reputation. 

Pink had won again. 

More importantly, H had lost again.

He couldn’t hear his teammates cry out for him. He could imagine the audience whispering about him, about how much he sucked, how he underperformed, how he was carried, how he was a disappointment, how he how he—

The walls closed in around H. People were swarming him, and H was certain they had good intentions. They were his friends— Fwhip, Pete, Quig, Joel, and so many more.

But H shut his eyes and willed them away. 

There was an odd silence.

And then a kind voice, which H was sure he had heard before but could not put a name to it.

“You don’t have to rely on yourself, you know.”

“I don’t want to let anyone down,” H mumbled. “I don’t like the pressure. And it sucks, because I love the Championships and all the participants and I want to have a good time.”

“But you’re not alone! You don’t have to carry the team on your shoulders!”

H opened his eyes, but no one was with him. The pink paint on his clothes had disappeared, and H stared at his blue shirt. 

He glanced around the empty Dodgebolt arena. There was a trophy innocently sitting on a podium, and H instinctively wanted it. He ran towards it, arm outstretched, but the world around him started to dissolve, fading into white, fading into light—

When H woke up, panting in his bed, he knew one thing.

He needed a break from the spotlight.

You're stuck, on the ground

Got lost, can't be found

Just remember that you're still alive

When False woke up, the first thing she noticed that she wasn’t in her bed, so naturally she panicked. Her eyes opened and she rolled over—

Pain jolted from her left arm. False let out a small yelp. 

The memories of last night slowly floated back to her, and she shifted her body. Ouch. Her neck hurt, probably from sleeping in a weird position. She pushed herself into a sitting position, and felt a blanket slide off her. Weird. She didn’t remember the blanket. Wait, when did she fall asleep?

False massaged her forehead, which faintly throbbed. Oh great, a headache. She remembered Ren was singing… what was he singing again? She couldn’t recall, she only knew his voice was nice and comforting, and then…

Oh. She fell asleep listening to him sing. False felt embarrassed. That was rude of her.

The living room was mostly dark, with sunlight shining in through a crack in the curtains. Still, False felt something was wrong. She reached for her phone and checked the time. 11:38am.

Well, that explained. False had never woken up this late. That was why she should never stay up. 

She rubbed her eyes. While the 8th Championship still hurt, she was able to look at her pain from a distance now. She felt oddly tranquil after spilling out all her emotions last night. 

Footsteps unexpectedly sounded, and False nearly rolled off the couch. Ren entered the room, yawning. “Sorry, did I surprise you? Good morning, by the way.”

“Your hair looks stupid,” was the first thing False said. Ren’s brown hair, usually in a ponytail, was sticking up everywhere like a bird’s nest. He self-consciously rummaged a hand through his hair. 

“Good morning to you too. Sorry for crashing,” False said apologetically. 

“I would be scared if you didn’t fall asleep,” Ren replied. “We talked well past 1am. Man. Also, bold of you to talk about my hair when your hair looks like that.”

Mirroring Ren’s actions, False ran a hand through her hair, and winced when she felt the knots. She grabbed her phone and checked her reflection. “Wow, I look fantastic,” she wryly commented. “When did you wake up?”

“Uhh, like thirty minutes ago? Didn’t want to disturb you though.”

False wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, good of you not to interrupt my beauty sleep. Guess I’ll go now.”

“Really? You’re leaving without breakfast?”

False looked up, and saw the mountain of cereal boxes on Ren’s table that she hadn’t noticed last night. A memory floated to her and she groaned. “Ren, don’t say it—“

“C’mon, have some Weetabix!” Ren’s voice was pleading.

“Don’t drag me into your Weetabix debate with Iskall—“

“But you like Weetabix, don’t you?”

“After hearing Iskall complain about it, I’m not so sure!”

Ren and Iskall had an infamous cereal debate in their second year, and Weetabix was apparently Ren’s favourite cereal brand. Iskall said Weetabix was dry and hard, and Ren compared Weetabix to a… log cabin in Canada? (Don’t ask.)

“I’m sorry, but the only breakfast material I have in this house is Weetabix.” Ren’s tone was dramatically somber. 

“I thought you would have like, Froot Loops considering your nickname for Fruit.”

But False had Weetabix anyway (not that she had a choice), Ren gave her a painkiller for her headache, and off she went. 

“See you soon!” Ren said. “And we’re joining the 9th Championship, yeah?”

“For sure.”

After freshening up a little, False packed some sandwiches and went for a walk with her dog Bear. It was a little cloudy, but not enough for it to feel gloomy. False actually preferred it that way when the sun wasn’t blinding her. 

False put the Championship behind her. Thinking about it too much would cause her to lose her mind, and besides, she’d talked a lot about it with Ren last night. Right now, she just wanted to return to her passion— creating. She contemplated bringing Bear to the 3-H campus, but decided against it. So she started the solo trek up the hill, her muscles still sore from yesterday.

Scott said the 3-H campus would always be open, even on weekends, with the condition that the hermits would take care of it. Of course they did, and they treated the 3-H like their second home. Today, False didn’t have intentions to build anything, she just wanted to chill and relax.

She wasn’t planning to talk to anyone, preferring to enjoy her time alone, but then she saw Xisuma tending to the flowers outside the classroom. It was a quiet afternoon, with bees softly buzzing and the butterflies dancing among the greenery. In fact, it was almost strangely quiet, considering how chaotic the 3-H territory usually was. Xisuma seemed to be the only person there.

“Afternoon, X,” False greeted her friend.

X turned, a smile on his face. “Hello False!”

Together, they peered at the colourful flowers. The daffodils, orchids, alliums, all the flowers were in full bloom, no doubt due to X’s care. Even though each type of flower had different requirements, X had carefully studied and memorized them all so his flowers could thrive. It was amazing how they could all coexist in such a small patch of land without competing with each other for nutrients and sunlight. X must have put in a lot of work.

“Even before your bee gimmick, I’ve always thought you’ll make a great gardener,” False mused. “You’re nurturing and careful—even though you derp sometimes.”

X laughed. “I’m just doing my best!”

“Yeah, your best includes working on Hermitcraft videos, commentary videos, working out, getting enough sleep, and doing a ton of productive stuff daily,” False quipped. “You’re a busy bee, X.” 

“But I enjoy being a busy bee!” X protested.

Although Scar and Bdubs were the official “leaders” of 3-H (since they were the class representatives), X was the true unofficial leader of the hermits. Everyone went to find X when they had any problems, and he was in charge of organizing meetings and such. Like Mumbo, False had known X before they entered the school. X was one of the founders of the “hermit” friend group (a handful of the original members were still here), then various members like Tango, Mumbo and False herself joined, and then of course there were the Kingdomcrafters and Grian. Besides, X had a calm demeanor, and always knew how to deal with disputes the hermits might have even though each hermit was different.

It was true the hermits didn’t need much of a “leader” among themselves since they were all close to one another, but it was still nice to have someone to rely on in case, let’s say, two hermits got into a fight.

False knew it was cheesy, but seeing X take care of the different flowers reminded her of how he took care of the different hermits. Their talents could all shine in 3-H, and they wouldn’t overshadow one another, plus they helped each other grow too.

False chuckled. “Yep, X, you’re a great gardener. Keep it up.”

They chatted a bit more, then False decided to take a ride on the HRN. She was curious and wanted to see what her friends were up to. 

False leisurely strolled through her friends’ creations. They were a constant reminder that she wasn’t alone, and she always had the Hermitcrafters. She always had a community to belong to, regardless of her Championship placement.

The Championship was loud and grand, and its audience occasionally unwelcoming (although most of the time they were supportive). False really liked being in competitive events, she really did.

But Hermitcraft was home. And she would always return to Hermitcraft.

And it was in Hermitcraft that she felt truly alive and happy.

Ren ended up joining Scar and Cub for brunch. Ren found the pair sitting in their treehouse, plates of food laid on top of a plaid picnic blanket. They eagerly gestured to Ren, telling him to come up.

“You can even try the elevator Cub made!” Scar yelled down at him.

“No thanks, I know how to climb trees!” Ren cried out. He lifted himself up with practiced and precise movements, and gracefully landed in the treehouse. “I mean, I cut trees for our class. I’m pretty good at maneuvering through them.”

“Impressive, impressive.”

Ren glanced at the plates of pancakes and waffles drizzled with golden honey plus the assortment of berries on the side. His stomach rumbled, and they all laughed.

“Hungry, aren’t you?” Cub asked.

“Not really,” Ren admitted. “I just had some Weetabix at home.”

Scar nodded. “Ah yes, the infamous Weetabix.”

“I should probably reduce my sugar intake,” Ren said thoughtfully. “After all, I demolished half a carton of caramel ice cream last night. Hey, don’t give me that look, Cubfan! Don’t you eat cinnamon buns every day?”

The trio playfully nudged each other as they ate. The conversation flowed as freely as their drinks. It felt nice to enjoy these little moments with friends without caring about the main campus or the Championship. They were just three friends having a silly conversation about leaves in space. 

… Ren knew he didn’t like being alone (if, let’s say, he lived on a tiny island with nobody around him, he would be so sad he would blow up his house just so he could live next to his friends. Not that that would happen). Just having friends near him made me happy, and that was why he decided to meet up with them after the Championship. 

The Championship came up exactly one time in their conversation. “Hey, dude,” Cub patted Ren’s shoulder. “I won’t be in the next Championship, but I’ll be glad to help you and False in any way I can. I’m making some minigames right now and I think they can help you practice.”

Ren beamed. “Thanks, Cub!”

After brunch with the bois, Ren met up with his best bro, the apple of his eye, the gas in his butt, Iskallman himself. They passionately discussed several random things (coconut oil, Pacific T-shirts, men in dresses just to name a few) before deciding to pay 3-H a visit. 

“Oh right, Ren, you’re working on a lighting system, right?” Iskall asked. “That’s why you want to go to 3-H in the evening.”

“Yup! I want my area, the Tatooren Valley, to look eerie and mysterious in the night. I’ve tried lava lamps, but the effects are not as…” Ren snapped his fingers. “Dramatic, you get me? So I want to try something new.”

“Oh no,” Iskall said automatically.

“Don’t oh no me before you know what I’m planning to do!” Ren gasped indignantly. “So anyways, I’m going to use fire—”

“Oh no.”

“Y-yeah, it’s quite dangerous, so that’s why I need you with me, Iskall!”

“Thanks, Rendog, but I don’t want to die. I still need to get back on Mumbo. Then you can kill me.”

“Aww come on, I wasn’t planning to use you as a meat shield.”

Iskall chuckled. “Meat shield. That sounds funny.”

“Anyways,” Ren said, eyes pleading. “Just help me with the redstone, okay?”

Iskall ruffled Ren’s hair. “Alright, Ren. You’re buying me dinner, though.”

(The two did have a good time at 3-H. The redstone worked on the fourth try, Ren only got one burn scar, Iskall got exactly two embarrassing stories out of Ren, and Ren did buy Iskall dinner.)

You've had enough

But just don't give up

Stick to your guns

You are worth fighting for!

H couldn’t stop thinking about the Championship.

Sure, he and Fruit had agreed to team up for the next one, but they both decided to put it aside for the moment. The excitement of the 8th Championship was still lingering, and it was probably too early to start hyping up the 9th Championship. Besides, H couldn’t forget the nightmare from earlier. It was a horrible manifestation of his fears, and while now he could see the illogical parts in his dream, it felt so real back then. It was a sign he needed some time away, yet for some stupid reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about his beloved Championship.

Sure, it did cause some pressure, but every Championship was so well-organized and pleasant. H had a great time even if he didn’t win. And he wanted everyone else to have a great time too, especially the so-called “weaker” players.

At home, H sat in front of his laptop, scrolling through the school forum that was managed by Michael C Reddit (or MCC Reddit). Everyone was naturally congratulating Pink Parrots, although H did see a lot of posts about him and the Axolotls. Of course the top players, the 3-A PvPers like him and Technodream attracted more attention.

H thought about Burren popping off in Dodgebolt, and of course Joel’s 1v3. It was a joy to see players suddenly performing out of expectations. Then he recalled what Fruit had said about him— something about “awakening others’ potential”. 

The lesser known participants deserved love too. In fact, everyone deserved love and hype, not just the famous PvPers. 

So H decided to make a post on the forum, and use what fame he had for good. 

He swiftly typed “5 players who need more love on here!” as the post title, then thoughtfully tapped his chin. 

“We give so much credit to the people who are at the top of the Championship, I want to see a list from everyone who reads this post of your top 5 most underrated participants who you think need more love/ respect from the community!” H continued, fingers flying over the keyboard. He smiled, satisfied by what he wrote. “Please take a look at all the players who are listed by me and the others! :)” 

It was easy to think of the players. Krtzyy was consistent, perhaps so consistent that he flew under the radar. Fwhip was his friend and two-time-teammate, and was always eager to sacrifice his individual points for the team. Ryguyrocky carried him in the 2nd Championship. And Mefs, like Krtzyy, was a consistent Top 10 player without the attention he deserved.

That left one spot. And H knew exactly who to put down.

“I’m actually a little afraid of facing FalseSymmetry in PvP! She’s nuts with a bow! I believe she’ll be on a good team soon and she’ll carry in Dodgebolt. Mark my words.”

H was strangely confident in False even though he knew her team got ninth. The way she’d killed him in one blow was terrifying (in an awesome way). 

But H didn’t think much about his predictions. He just hoped his post could bring more attention to those who deserved it. 

He ended his post by encouraging others to talk more about other players, not just the five he mentioned. H clicked the “post” button, and so his list of five underrated participants was sent to the internet and would forever remain there. 

H didn’t know his unassuming post would be the humble beginnings of a legacy. 

With his prophecy in place, the road to victory was set in motion.

We've got a little room to grow

Better days are near

Hope, is so much stronger than fear

Chapter Text

“Thanks for having me over, Cub.”

“Thank you for coming here to play.”

False was currently at Cub’s place with its unnaturally tall ceilings, each room lovingly decorated with expensive materials (seriously, where did Cub get those? How could he afford them?). False had walked past statues, several large murals, and chorus flowers growing behind a glass wall. Even though Cub’s home was unbelievably lavish (his floors were made out of intricate patterns of glazed terracotta just because he could), it still had the warmth associated with every hermit. In Cub’s living room were spaceship models, little trinkets he had collected over the years, and thick albums of photographs. On his table were neatly labeled files of redstone and building ideas. And of course at least five drones sitting in a corner. Normal Cubfan stuff. 

But Cub had decided to have some fun and created his Targét minigames. False glanced at the black banner that hung above the door. “Targét” was written in fancy calligraphy font, with the smaller words “a shot above the rest” underneath it.

Cub had intended for his minigame section to be a place where hermits could chill and test their skills, but now it had another purpose— to help the hermits practice for the Championship.

(“Thought I’ll give it a shot at having two people play this,” Cub had said when he invited False. False chuckled. “That was a pun, wasn’t it?”)

“This place looks fantastic, dude,” False complimented Cub when they walked into the “Open Sesame” part of Targét. There were two “chambers”, one with a red colour scheme, the other with blue. In front of the chambers, two targets hung on the walls, redstone lamps above them. There were also two airguns and a box of BB pellets on the floor.

“So, this is Open Sesame,” False mused, stretching her fingers in preparation. She hadn’t really touched a gun after the 8th Championship, so she was excited for the opportunity. 

“Or rather Open “Seasme”,” Cub quipped humorously, gesturing to a sign with an unfortunate misspelling. “Everyone keeps on roasting me about it.”

False nodded, going along with it (the hermits were quick to accept any misspellings and have fun with it, like Scar’s Aque Town). “Open Seasme. That’s what it is,” she chimed in. 

“Anyways, back to the game.” Cub walked around the room. “Basically I press this button to start the game, and then we go in.” He gestured to the red and blue chambers. “You start to shoot at the target while standing on the pressure plate. When you hit the target, the door behind you opens up, you move on to the next stage, and shoot at the same target from the new position. Whoever reaches the end first wins!”

“Sweet!” False peered at the blue chamber next to her, and she wrinkled her nose. “You’re gonna reset this, right? The doors are all open.”

“Oh right, whoops.” Cub quickly hurried around to flick a few levers. The familiar sounds of piston extending filled the room. “Had a test round before you came over.”

False shrugged. “Good thing I noticed!”

“Your mind’s sharp today. I’m starting to feel a little scared. Are you ready for this?”

False reached for an airgun with a grin. “I am! I’m totally ready for this.”

Cub mirrored False’s smile. “I’m going to start the game. Good luck!”

False took a deep breath. Even though this was a chill game between friends, she couldn’t help but feel her muscles tense. False was used to the competitive nature of the Championship and it was showing. 

Somewhere, a bell chimed three times, then the doors on both chambers opened. False quickly walked in and raised her gun. She hit the target with ease. “Now, I want to know how many times have you practiced this?”

“Uhhh, not that much, honestly. Not that much.”

Considering how hardworking and “extra” Cub usually was, False would take “not that much” with a grain of salt. She hit the target, the door opened, and she entered the next stage. She could hear the doors opening on Cub’s side, and a thought popped into her mind. “Wait, is this a race?”

“It is a race,” Cub confirmed. 

“Oh.” False’s voice was a little quieter as she focused on her shots. A race, huh? “You’re a little ahead of me right now.”

“Uh oh. First miss,” came Cub’s voice. “Second miss!”

“Aha!” False couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit triumphant when she hit her target. “I think I’m moving ahead of you!”

“Ahh! Oh no!”

False laughed, amused by Cub’s complaining. “I’m not going to pull ahead for long…” False frowned as she trained her eyes on the target, which was further away than ever. “This is Stage 8 when we start to struggle.”

“Yeah,” Cub chimed in. “It’s getting brutal.”

False winced when she heard her BB pellets ricochet off walls. “It’s about not hitting the walls for me. Got to line it down the middle.”

False could hear them both struggle for a bit, then the familiar click of a door— but not from her side. 

“Ah, I think I’m one ahead!” Cub gasped, his voice moving further away.

“You are,” False’s voice was strained as she focused. “You are one ahead. My shots are not going in the center at all.”

“Yep, this is when it starts to get hard”

“Stop hitting the walls!” False cried out jokingly as if her bullets could hear her. “Go towards the target!”

“Go straight! Ugh, it’s way off. Bullets, behave!”

“Do they even— I can’t even tell where my bullets are going now. I think they’re going up way too high.”

Both of them were still relatively calm even in the middle of a race, and could afford to exchange remarks about their shots. At one point, both of them were stuck. “And man, this is the easiest setting too,” Cub laughed. 

False’s heart pumped. She knew she was behind Cub, but she would catch up with him soon. Just one more shot— just a little closer—

“Oh! I got it!” False hurried into the next stage, a smile breaking out on her face. “I think I’m equal with you now!”

They continued to chat, but their sentences were fragmented since they were giving most of their attention to their shots. 

“This is how you improve on long-distance bow shooting,” Cub commented thoughtfully. 

False thought about how Cub’s minigame trained their ability to shoot at targets from different distances. “It’s definitely one way.”

In the end, Cub managed to win, a mere second before False proceeded to the next stage. False sighed when she saw that she still had two more stages to the end. “Ooh, congrats Cub.” She patted Cub’s shoulder. Both of them had beads of sweat on their foreheads. “Hey, I want to know where you were aiming at? My bullets kept on hitting the walls.”

Cub pointed at target. “Just a little about the target. Like, at the honey-coloured tiles.”

False nodded. She could see what Cub was talking about. Shooting static targets from a long distance was difficult because they had to estimate where the bullet would end up, and they had to take factors like wind and friction into consideration. It sounded rather… mathematical, compared to intuition, which False tended to rely on. “The race was pretty close, man,” False ended up saying.

“Yeah, that was close!” Cub agreed. “I got to the final, you got to the second to final one?”

“Yeah, but you literally locked me out,” False laughed, nudging Cub teasingly. “I would’ve gone to the one before the final! The door shut in my face.”

“Aww, bad luck. So, uh, did you find this helpful?”

“Yeah? Even though the targets in the Championship are moving targets, it’s still nice to y’know, work on my accuracy.”

Cub tapped his chin. “Well, I have more games here, and I would love to play them with you. But first,” Cub sighed and stared at the bullets littering the floor. “We’ve got to clean this up.”

Cub and False played some more minigames and had a great time. After an Open Sesame rematch (which False won narrowly), they decided to call it a day. When they checked their phones, they both saw a new message from Pearl in the Yellow Yaks group chat.

Pearl: :O False have you seen this?

Pearl: https://www.reddit.com/r/MinecraftChampionship/comments/ibp39m/5_players_who_need_more_love_on_here/

Pearl: H says you’re underrated by the community!

Cub: Wow nice

False: he did what??

Ren: !!

Pearl: :D

False: i… don’t know what to say haha

False stared at her phone, flabbergasted. She read the words again and again as if she couldn’t believe it. “I’m actually a little afraid of facing FalseSymmetry in PvP! She’s nuts with a bow! I believe she’ll be on a good team soon and she’ll carry in Dodgebolt. Mark my words.”

… That being said, she couldn’t be too surprised, right? H had talked about her PvP skills multiple times before, both before and during the 8th Championship. It was another thing to post that publicly for everybody to see. False swallowed.

Cub was reading H’s post on his phone. “You’ll be a good team soon, eh?” Cub nudged False. “Who are you teaming up with next time?”

False admittedly had not thought much about it. “... Ren as usual? We haven’t decided on the other two yet.”

“Hmm, maybe you guys can ask HBomb.”

“That’ll be cool, but I dunno if we dare to ask him. He’s a 3-A PvPer. Like, he’s been teamed with so many good players lately. He even got into Dodgebolt three times in a row!”

(The hermits did not know that it was due to that exact fact that H wanted to team with low profile players.)

“It won’t hurt to ask,” Cub offered, a smile on his face. “Maybe it’s time to step out of the comfort zone.”

“You’re right. Maybe I’ll try to find H at school.” False put her water bottle in her bag. “Thanks again for helping me practice.”

Cub waved. “No problem! I’m always happy to have someone to play minigames with.”

After another one of Stan Twitt’s grueling assemblies, the hermits were eager to cleanse their ears and return to their 3-H campus, but Herman Blur stopped two hermits. 

“Sup Herman? What’s going on?” Ren asked, watching as all the other hermits walked away, some shooting him and False curious looks.

Today, Herman had sheep horns and bat wings, and his face was covered with symmetrical purple markings. “Someone wants to talk to you two,” Herman replied. But before they could ask Herman who, a familiar voice interrupted them.

“Hey False! Hey Ren!”

The trio turned to see H, Fruit, and Cherry Twitt approach, all of them smiling.

“Hi guys,” Fruit greeted them. “I know no one pays attention to Stan Twitt, but he just said sign ups for the 9th Championship are open, and—”

H nudged Fruit playfully. “No need to be that long winded.” H faced the hermits, a confidently grin on his face. He stretched out a hand. “Wanna team with us?” he asked bluntly.

False and Ren shared identical flabbergasted looks. False was quick to reply. “Urm, sure! We’ll be delighted!” she blurted out before she could regret it. 

“What?” was all Ren got out. “I— I mean, you’re from 3-A, and we’re hermits, and—”

H scoffed. “Yeah, like we care. And I think it’ll be fun if all four of us team together!”

Ren and False looked at each other again, eyes wide. The telepathy between hermits was usually a little fuzzy, but there was no mistaking it this time. Ren and False were both internally screaming “what the heck?!” and “but we’re going to let them down!”.

“Well. Uh.” False quickly composed herself. “We’re gonna practice a lot to make up for our skill level. Since. Uh. You guys are great.”

“Well, we can practice together!” Fruit said. “Like what we did last time.” Next to him, H nodded.

“It’s a good combination, honestly,” Herman Blur piped up. “I’ve wanted the hermits to have new teammates for a while. And what better teammates than your patron saints?”

H gaped. “We’re your what—”

“And it’ll work out for Fruit and H too!” Cherry said cheerfully. “H and Fruit want to escape from the spotlight and high pressure for a while, and they want to interact with people they usually don’t get the chance to. So what do you say?”

Ren was still busy freaking out, so False took H’s outstretched hand. And with a handshake, the deal was sealed. 

H looked pleased. “Great! I’m already looking forward to the 9th Championship!”

“Same!” False, although having agreed to the team up, was still dazed (in a good way, of course).  Just a few days ago, Cub had suggested her to team up with H, and she had refused because she thought H wouldn’t like it. Now, H had just asked for her and Ren. She wondered how Cub would react. Probably a smug “I told you so”.

“Well, I guess we won’t be getting ninth next time,” Ren joked, and H instantly huffed.

“You guess? We’re totally not getting ninth! We’ll definitely get top half. And I’m sure we have the potential to get into Dodgebolt— that’s our target.”

At the mention of Dodgebolt, both hermits laughed. As nice as it sounded, jumping from ninth to second or first seemed ludicrous.

"Dodgebolt is our dream, but we'll honestly be super happy if we get fourth."

H looked indignant. "Excuse you? Aim higher!"

Fruit quickly interrupted him with a laugh. “Calm down, H! Don’t scare them! Let’s just focus on training for now.”

“I’ve been rewatching some of your footage, and I think I can help you guys improve,” H offered. “But training isn’t exactly a walk in the park.”

The hermits responded immediately. “Ohh, we don’t mind!” “We’re willing to put in more effort.” “We’re honored to team with you two!”

“Great! We’ll decide on the practice sessions later,” Fruit declared. “Although I’m rather busy now. Techno and Dream are publicly dueling in a few weeks and I’ve agreed to train them.”

False blinked. “A duel between the two best PvPers? Blimey!”

“Yeah, and Mr. Beast is sponsoring them! A fight for $100000!”

Mr. Beast was somewhat of a legend in the community, known for donating ludicrous sums of money. Ren couldn’t help but grin. “That sounds amazing! Y’know, Mr. Beast actually donated some money to me and Falsie randomly!”

“Yeah, I kind of lost it back then,” False laughed. “But I can’t wait to see these two fight, especially after they teamed up in the 8th Championship.”

Fruit laughed. “I suppose Techno and Dream are back to being rivals again. Well, we won’t keep you for long, and I actually have stuff to do, soo… see you soon?”

“Yup, yup.” “See you guys later!” “Thanks for agreeing to team up with us!”

The four waved their goodbyes and split, with Fruit, H and Cherry going back to the main campus, and False, Ren, and Herman returning to 3-H. Nothing could stop the wide beams on their faces. As they walked away, hope blossoming in their chests, they were all thinking of the same thing.

The hermits thought they had to do well as not to disappoint H and Fruit.

H and Fruit thought they had to do well as not to disappoint the hermits. 

And so the four of them would try their hardest for each other.

“Alright guys, we’re nearing the end of August,” Xisuma said during the hermits’ monthly class meeting. “What are everyone’s plans for September?”

Tango raised his hand, a proud look on his face. “I’m going to release Decked Out!” 

Everybody clapped and cheered since they all knew how much hard work Tango had put in. Everybody was dying to play Decked Out, and even though it wasn’t completed, everybody was sure it was going to be a highlight of their year. 

“Amazing! Can’t wait for it!” Xisuma beamed. “Anyone else?”

Ren and False exchanged grins. Ren raised his hand. “Well, guys, we have something important to announce—“ Ren stopped when he realized who else had raised their hand.

Grian.

Grian had been busy with personal stuff for the past month and even took a few days off. But he had returned with full vigor. His face was glowing, and he evidently had something very exciting to tell everyone.

“You go first, bro,” Ren said generously. It wasn’t like anything could be more shocking than him and False teaming up with two 3-A PvPers.

Grian grabbed Mumbo’s hand, grinning from ear to ear. “Mumbo and I are going on a road trip sponsored by Mojang!”

Everyone’s jaw dropped. “WHAT?”

… Okay, that was probably bigger news than the Championship. The Mojang sponsoring not one, but two hermits to go on a road trip? What the heck was going on?

“It’s for promotion purposes,” Mumbo clarified. “That being said, it’s very generous that they’re covering all our costs. Also we’ll be going in my van. Yay.”

The hermits erupted, all of them excited. They started asking Grian and Mumbo about which places they would go to, but Grian raised a hand to stop their questions. “Thanks for being excited, but I don’t want to steal all the spotlight. Ren, what did you want to say?”

“Oh, nothing,” False said casually, leaning back on her chair, a smirk on her face. “We’re just teaming with HBomb and Fruitberries for the 9th Championship. Nuuuthing special.”

It was time for Grian’s jaw to drop. No doubt he was shocked that two other hermits would team up with Fruity B, Grian’s favourite person ever, before Grian did. Grian turned to Ren and False, eyes comically wide.

“WHAT?!”

Chapter Text

Reluctantly crouched at the starting line

Engines pumping and thumping in time

The green light flashes, the flags go up

Churning and burning, they yearn for the cup

“Hi False!”

“Hi everyone!”

False hurried towards H and Fruit who were standing by the gates of the main campus. H and Fruit were studying a piece of paper in Fruit’s hands— it was the training schedule Fruit had carefully planned for them. 

They were meeting up on a Friday afternoon so they could spend the whole weekend practicing at school. Apparently the school allowed its students to stay overnight to practice and they could book the dorms at school. (The hermits didn’t know they could do that.) They were in for a rigorous round of training, one the hermits hadn’t experienced before.

H glanced at False. “Where’s Ren?” he asked, expecting the hermits to stick together.

False checked the time. “He said he has something to do and told me to go first. He’s not late— yet.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, a familiar voice instantly jolted everyone awake. 

“YO TEAM!” Ren cried out, frantically waving at his teammates as he ran towards them. He started to ramble, words flowing out without taking a breath in between. “What’s cracking baby? What’s cracking—”

“SUP REN!” H hollered. Out of the three, H was the one who could best match Ren’s energy. Smiles involuntarily snuck on the Bats’ faces.

“HELLO EVERYBODY! Yo HBomb!” Ren grinned and flung an arm around H. “Fruityloops what’s cracking? Falsie what’s cracking?” He went to greet everybody with playful nudges and shoves.

“FRUITYLOOPS!” H screamed in delight, amused by Ren’s nickname.

“Someone’s awake!” False laughed, a little taken aback by Ren’s eagerness. “Hi!”

Ren finally calmed down. “Sorry dudes,” Ren said sheepishly, but everyone’s mood was greatly elevated by Ren’s presence. 

“Someone’s ready to goooo!” Fruit whooped. 

“I’m quite excited! I’m ready to kick some butt! But sorry, I may have come in hot there,” Ren said. His voice was softer and his words slower compared to his outburst a few seconds ago. “I’m sorry dudes.”

“Don’t worry! Keep on coming!” H yelled, completely unbothered. 

Fruit chuckled. “I thought you were gonna freestyle on us!”

“I’ve overexcited myself there, sorry again,” Ren mumbled, but H was distracted by Fruit’s comment.

“Okay, so I need to hear the story,” H began all business-like. “People are telling me to watch Ren and False rap?”

“Oh no,” False said at the same time Ren said “oh yeah”. They exchanged looks. Fruit and H couldn’t help but laugh at the stark contrast of the hermits’ reactions.

H looked at the hermits curiously. “I haven’t watched it yet, but what’s the story behind this?”

“Okay, so some time ago on Hermitcraft, we made a group rap song called Hermitgang. It was a parody of Gucci Gang. It was properly produced; it’s like a proper song! And it’s actually quite sweet!”

“Yeah, yeah.” False nodded. As nerve-wracking as it was to rap, it was super fun coming up with the roasts with her friends. And of course there was that embarrassment of looking back at something you made a while ago. 

“It’s quite Minecraft-cringey, you know?” Ren pointed out, saying what False was thinking.

“Yeah. We’re all for the cringe.”

“We’re embracing the cringe.”

As the hermits exchanged comments on how “cringe” Hermitgang was, H asked, “Can you drop some lines on us real quick, or no?”

False was super ready to decline, but Ren apparently had other plans. He wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt, actually preparing to sing. “Umm, I can’t remember the lyrics, give me a second.”

“I was just gonna say I’m a big no on that one,” False laughed as Ren frantically googled the lyrics. Funny how their fans and Herman Blur could recite Hermitgang perfectly at any given opportunity, but the original rappers had forgotten the lyrics. 

H looked supremely disappointed. “Aww, come on!”

False subconsciously started to move behind Ren, nervously chuckling. At least Ren was taking one for the team. “I performed it once for the song, there you go, you can play it. It’s there somewhere on the Internet.”

H looked pleased. “So it’s never going to disappear!”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll never live it down.”

“Alright, so, I can drop some lines for you!” Ren cleared his throat to gain everyone’s attention. “You guys ready?”

False gave Ren a partly-mortified, partly-impressed look. “Go for it, Ren.” She was curious to see how Ren could pull this off because she would never do it. 

“Do it. Please do.” H looked at Ren expectantly. 

Ren scrolled through his phone. “Gotta find the verse. Okay, so the beat was kinda gnarly, but I’ll do my best, okay?”

“Please do— wait, can you please describe to me what the gnarly beat means?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fruit chimed in. 

“It was made by Doc who’s a big fan of old hip hop, so it was an old school, gnarly hip hop beat.”

H raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion as everyone laughed. “Okay? These are not things I expected to come out of your mouth, Ren.”

“I do apologize, I’m being incredibly white right now. I’m trying to be hardcore, but I’m failing,” Ren said sheepishly. To change the topic, he asked, “You guys wanna hear my rhymes?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know where the failing’s coming in, I haven’t heard you fail once!” H exclaimed.

“Alright, here we go.” Ren cleared his throat again. 

“Now I’m back, got some things I wanna say,” Ren chanted confidently. “What’s the letter that starts the alphabet? Ay!”

Ren somehow still had the same energy as when they recorded Hermitgang. Music really did run in his blood. “Ladies gotta get in line, the Diggity be on the way!” Ren continued. “Cleo don’t know who she freakin’ with!”

Ren started moving to the beat, totally engrossed in rapping. As he rapped, Fruit and H’s faces transformed from mild curiosity to being totally impressed. “All the signs say to notify her next of kin, this Diggity Dawg be dropping bombs nothing but hits! Spit the rhyme again, ‘cause the message is, I can mumble rap and still be the best there is!” Ren clapped his hands, clearly hyped. “Ooh wow!”

“Yeah!” False vigorously nodded to show her appreciation. Ren was always musically inclined, but rapping their cringey diss track in front of two non-hermits was probably a little out of his comfort zone. Out of the Hermitgang singers, only Ren could carry spontaneously rapping Hermitgang. She didn’t have the guts.

Fruit and H had similar expressions of genuine, shocked awe. “That was great!” Fruit exclaimed, eyes wide.

“That was actually so good!” H cheered.

“Yeah, in the most cringe kind of way,” Ren admitted. “But thanks.”

“NO!” H protested loudly, wagging a finger in front of Ren’s nose. “There was minimal cringe! I was surprised!”

“That was powerful!” Fruit insisted, still laughing. 

The three of them could not stop chuckling. “You’re so minimal cringe, dude!” H continued.  “Good job, Ren!”

“Okay, I need to calm down.” Ren wiped his forehead. “I’m starting to sweat, and we haven’t even started practicing yet.” He rummaged in his bag. “Let me get a sip of this beverage.”

H curiously peered over Ren’s shoulder. “When you say beverage, what do you mean? What are you drinking? How much energy drinks have you had?”

“Well, I definitely had too much coffee today!” Ren said brightly. “But I have a lovely cup of tea to calm my nerves. Or at least, tea in my water bottle.”

“That’s good!” Fruit said, cheerfully.

H just stared at Ren again. “I-I didn’t expect that! I was fully expecting Monster or something like that.”

“And about Hermitgang, the actual song is way better than what I just sang, so go check it out, man,” Ren said with a grin. “Just search for ‘Hermitgang’ on YouTube, and boom! You got the biggest hit of 2019!”

False was feeling the second hand embarrassment even though she enjoyed making Hermitgang, so thankfully they moved on. They dumped their bags in the dorm and started practicing.

They started with the hermits’ detested parkour. The colour-coded parkour levels were beautifully decorated, but hidden under the aesthetics was pure pain. The hermits could do the first few levels with relative ease (it would be embarrassing if they couldn’t), but they soon started to struggle.

“It’s alright, let’s take it one level at a time,” H called out. “One jump at a time.”

Despite the hermits failing multiple times at the “easy” jumps (at least they were easy to H and Fruit), the two mentors were kind and patient, and thoroughly went through each level with the hermits. 

“Break time!” H tossed water bottles at everyone. “Stay hydrated, guys!”

H had been helping Ren and False with one level while Fruit went off exploring the next level, wondering how to explain the jumps. Fruit bounded back upon hearing H’s voice.

“Sorry we’re taking so long to master this,” Ren said sheepishly while False quietly stared at the parkour levels. 

H huffed. “Don’t be sorry!”

“Hey guys!” Fruit exclaimed cheerfully as he approached the gang. “I found a shortcut on the next level! I don’t know if it’s actually faster though, but it’s nice to find something new!”

H gave Ren a look. “See? You’re actually helping us too,” he pointed out. “This practice isn’t just for you and False, it’s for everybody.”

Ren sighed. “Y’know, I spent last week practicing parkour by myself because I was so worried. Like, you guys are amazing, I don’t want to disappoint…” False, who was silent besides Ren, hummed in agreement. 

Fruit and H shared looks. H exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose, probably a little tired of the hermits doubting themselves. “Alright guys, listen up. Serious talk,” H commanded, different from his usual lighthearted tone. 

When the two hermits looked up, H boldly continued, “No matter what happens in the actual Championship, Fruit and I will never be disappointed in you two.”

“Yeah, so long you did your best,” Fruit chimed in with a smile.

“And not actively trying to ruin the team or throw us, which I’m sure you’ll never do,” H reassured. 

Ren swallowed. “Uhhh well, thanks for saying that!”

“We appreciate it,” False added, voice a little quieter. 

A grin spread across H’s face. “Okay guys, keep that in mind! I will be very sad if you continue to be mean to yourself. Now back to practice!”

The Bats wiped sweat away and stood up, ready for another gruelling round. 

“I dunno why, but I just can’t do these jumps,” Ren muttered. “Even though it seems so easy to everyone else.”

Fruit shot Ren a look. “Ever heard of a technique called toggle sprint?”

Ren blinked. “The what?”

“I LOVE toggle sprint!” Ren whooped a few minutes later. He finally cleared a level and raised his fists in the air. “BOOM BABEY!”

“Yass Ren! Keep it up!” False cheered. 

Ren realised all three of them were waiting for him to finish, and grinned awkwardly. He must have taken quite a while, and even False had finished it a few minutes before him. “Sorry guys, you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Nahh, don’t say that!” “We believe in you!” The other three were quick to reply, H in particular aggressively praising Ren to counter Ren aggressively doubting himself. 

“So now that you’ve learned the toggle sprint technique, I guess you wasted your time practicing parkour the week before,” H joked, making everybody laugh.

Ren chuckled. “You know what, you’re right, Hmamma!” he replied good-humouredly.

They continued to practice with optimistic smiles. Ren gave certain moves and techniques weird names, which helped to lighten the mood. Although H and Fruit were rather unfamiliar with Ren’s brand of weirdness, they soon grew to like it, with H exclaiming “I wanna hear more of that boom baby!”.

After a short while, Ren decided to practice some of the earlier levels, while False challenged herself with trying a harder one. H went with Ren, and Fruit went with False.

False was facing one of those detestable slime block jumps, but after hearing some of Fruit’s tips, she got the jump almost immediately. That fact that a few words could remove long harboured frustration was encouraging, and False wanted to share it with her fellow hermit.

“This jump is easy!” She enthusiastically told Ren as he approached the section.

“Oh yeah?” H called out, grinning. “Then do you want to try explaining it?”

False swallowed. “Uhh, sure.”

She was a little nervous, because up till now, she and Ren had been the students. But people did say the best way of learning was to teach it to someone else, right? 

So False cautiously repeated Fruit’s teachings to Ren, and to everyone’s delight, Ren also got the jump fairly quickly. Ren bounced off the slime block and successfully landed, and the hermits high-fived. “Boom baby!” Ren declared proudly. 

H looked pleased. “Good job, guys! Now onto the next one! There’s a trick for this one, you can…”

H and Fruit took turns to demonstrate the jumps. They swiftly jumped between platforms and easily grabbed onto ladders like it was their second nature. Ren watched with his eyes wide and jaw dropped. “Oh my goodness, you guys are crazy good at this,” Ren rambled on and on. “I mean, you're in 3-A, but still. Wow.”

The hermits did their best to follow behind, and they gradually grew more confident in themselves. Despite that, they recognized when they would truly start to struggle. They knew they should focus on the levels they could realistically do in the real Championship, but they couldn’t help but be curious about the entire parkour course. If they thought the middle bits were hard, how nightmarish would the final levels be?

“Here’s the final level,” a panting Fruit gestured to the level in front of them. The platforms were smaller than ever if they could even be called platforms- they were barely as wide as a pipe, and the gaps between the platforms were especially daunting. All four of them gulped.

“Yeah, we’re not gonna make it there,” False remarked with a laugh. “I’ll be lucky to even see the final level in the actual Championship.”

“It’s a challenge for even the best of us. I got up to 8-1 last time,” H casually commented, and Ren’s mind was completely blown.

“Dude, what the heck??” Ren burst out, furiously gesturing at the parkour levels. “I- you guys are amazing for getting this far. This is freakin’ insane. I-I don’t know how you’re doing it. I’m speechless, dudes.”

Both Fruit and H seemed oddly flustered by his words. They were probably used to excelling in movement and parkour (since they were in 3-A), so they forgot how mind-blowing their performance would appear to ordinary folks. People were familiar with the 3-A students doing good, so it was a welcome surprise to hear Ren, a 3-A outsider, be genuinely flabbergasted. H and Fruit grinned, happy yet shy.

Before they knew it, they had spent the entire afternoon practicing parkour. As they sat down on benches to catch their breath, Fruit ran through the schedule again. They would practice raw PvP and shooting skills tomorrow and maybe try out Dodgebolt. Ren wistfully commented, “I’d always wanted to play Dodgebolt, but at least I can try the practice version.”

“Ohh come on! You’ll get to play real Dodgebolt someday!” H passionately responded, and everybody laughed.

“Falsie and I have been wanting to get into that Dodgebolt pit for the whole year,” Ren said.

H lightly slapped Ren. “Ohh, don’t! I don’t wanna hear about getting to Dodgebolt! We’re winning Dodgebolt, get outta here with that!!” H cried out enthusiastically. “I told you guys, it’s the prophecy! False is gonna carry us in Dodgebolt! Never doubt it!”

“Yeah! Absolutely!” Ren chimed in, beaming. “I have zero doubts.”

False chuckled nervously. “I might need to practice bowing a lot then.”

Ren was determined to let everyone know how awesome his friend was. “Best PvPer on Hermitcraft: FalseSymmetry. For sure.”

H grinned widely. “I’ve watched the footage, she’s nuts! She’s crazy!”

“Mmhmm! Every hermit is terrified of her!”

“AS THEY SHOULD BE!” H screamed, excited. 

False watched H and Ren’s back and forth with amusement and the slightest tinge of uncertainty. Fruit also agreed with the boys, although he wasn’t as loud as the other two. Everybody was encouraging her, and False was beginning to feel more confident in herself. As they were all tired, they called it a day and decided to rest and shower. 

“Hope you guys don’t mind sharing a dorm,” H said as the four of them walked back to the dorm.

“Ohh, it’s not a problem. We hermits have sleepovers regularly,” Ren replied, then wrinkled his nose. “Although we’re going to stink this place up.”

“Oh no,” False quipped.

“Yup, oh no alright,” Fruit agreed. Key in hand, he opened the door to the dorm, and everybody stepped in.

Take me to your best friend's house

Roll around this roundabout

I loved you then and I love you now

“MUMBO!”

Grian flung open Mumbo’s door, and it loudly banged against the wall. Mumbo’s spoon collection (that he was oddly fond of) rattled. 

Mumbo looked up and wiped sweat off his forehead. “Thanks for remembering to come in through the back door, Gri.”

Mumbo had made his own piston door as his front door. It was a marvel, all iron and shiny and smooth. It was always satisfying to see it activate. The not-so-satisfying part was that Grian had a 85% chance of breaking it every time he used it, and nobody knew why. Mumbo had tried to “Grian-proof” his machines with no avail, so Mumbo resorted to letting Grian use his back door. Hey, at least Grian wasn’t stealing doors. (But that was another story for another time.)

“How’s the road trip schedule going?” Mumbo asked. Grian ended up being in charge of trip planning (because as crazy as that guy was, he knew how to have a good time), while Mumbo worked on the logistics of travelling. 

“Wanna go visit some llamas?” Grian chirped.

“Sure,” Mumbo answered without a second thought. A pause. “Wait, are llamas even relevant to whatever we’re promoting?”

“No,” Grian answered with the confidence of a thousand suns. “I just wanna see some llamas.”

Mumbo shrugged. “Well okay, that’s a good enough reason!”

(They were totally putting Mojang’s money to good use.)

Mumbo’s house was perfectly geometrical and symmetrical. The walls were made out of smooth stone and grey concrete, giving a “cool” feel to it. Sea lanterns acted as lighting, while Mumbo’s redstone ideas laid scattered all around the room. Right next to the spoon collection, a bright orange patterned shirt (Mumbo’s Pacific uniform) hung on the wall. It was probably the most colourful thing in the room.

Mumbo stood in the middle of the room with piles of clothes and filming equipment next to him. In his hand was a messily scribbled checklist. 

Grian eyed the filming equipment. “We’re bringing everything here?”

“Well, not everything. I’m still narrowing it down,” Mumbo explained. Grian curiously reached for a camera. Mumbo sighed and rubbed his nose. “Grian, don't break anything. Or blow up anything. Or press any buttons even though I covered all of them with a glass case. I still haven’t forgiven you the time you made models of my cars and promptly blew them up.”

Grian and Mumbo quickly went over the supplies list together. After deeming muffins were a necessity, they naturally became distracted by other matters.

“Hey, Gri, you’re gonna be in the 9th Championship, right?”

Grian exhaled. “Yeah. Although not with Fruity B. He got taken by False and Ren. I’ll be playing with the 3-G dudes— Timmy, Martyn, and Joel.”

“Good luck!” Mumbo heartily thumped Grian on the back. “The Championship’s a few days after our road trip; hope you don’t pass out from exhaustion.”

Grian shot Mumbo a look. “Let’s hope your driving skills don’t kill me first! And I’m thinking of raising money for charity during the Championship...”

“Aww, sounds great!”

Grian shot Mumbo a grin. “But one thing at a time. Gotta plan this road trip first.”

They discussed their itinerary before deciding to go out for dinner (Grian couldn’t trust Mumbo’s culinary skills after Mumbo ate unwashed kale, got explosive diarrhea and felt the urge to inform everybody on Twitter). With casual nudges and bantering, they went off in the night. 

Take me to your best friend's house

I loved you then and I love you now

Don't take me tongue tied

Don't wave no goodbye

The Blue Bats’ dorm was thankfully less ugly than the main campus since the walls were made out of white concrete. It still felt cold and lifeless but since it was a dorm, the hermits couldn’t complain. There was a TV and a couch in the living room plus a small kitchenette. Ren and False had brought Weetabix and bananas respectively for breakfast, and the food was piled up on the counter. 

They were too tired to go out, so H ended up getting dinner for all of them (“I know a professional cook, so I pulled in a favour from her”). And they couldn’t have pizza takeout when they were literally training for the Championship. 

After dinner and a quick shower, H gathered everyone in front of the TV. Everybody was fascinated by Ren taking baths using scented candles (especially the coconut kind). Ren was wearing his hoodie inside out, and while everyone noticed it, no one pointed it out. Fruit yawned and reclined on the couch. H stood in front of all of them with a determined expression.

“Alright guys, it’s time to discuss strategy,” he declared. “Fruit and I rewatched the hermits’ footage—“

“Oh no.”

“Please say you’re joking.”

“I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

The hermits were embarrassed because they got ninth three times in a row, so their performance was the opposite of impressive. Ren in particular was so mortified that he actually stood up, walked to a corner, and stayed there for five minutes. False just pretended to be very occupied with brushing her hair. 

“It’s alright! Just wanna know you guys better!” H told them. “Let’s talk about the team games first. I have a feeling I know which game you’re most scared of.”

“Survival Games,” the two hermits replied automatically, Ren’s voice muffled by standing in a corner.

“Us hermits have done PvP before, but that was ages ago and among ourselves,” False said. “And we haven’t had official training ever since we were sent to 3-E, so we’re probably very outdated about the new skills. And Survival Games is so PvP oriented as well.”

H tapped his fingers on a desk. “Nah, I don’t think SG is PvP oriented. Remember the name- it’s all about survival. Being smart. Gathering resources. Picking your battles. Waiting for the chance to strike. Sure, PvP is quite important, but even if you’re the best PvPer in the world, if you’re unlucky and you make irrational choices, you’re screwed.”

“True,” False said, recalling her UHC days. She vaguely remembered the Hunt the Hermit events she had with the hermits and their fans. No doubt her PvP skills helped her survive, but she also hid and chose her fights wisely. 

“Alright guys, we’re going to help you familiarize yourselves with the main campus.” Fruit pulled out a strange device and pressed a button. A hologram of the school, in all its ugly cobblestone glory, popped out. Even though the hermits were familiar with advanced technology, they were still sufficiently impressed. “H and I thought this would be useful considering you barely step foot in the main campus.”

They discussed hiding spots, with Fruit’s knowledge of trapping coming in handy. (“I mean, you can’t set traps in Survival Games, but there are locations you can utilize for benefit.) H pointed out several corners that they shouldn’t hide in because the border could cut off their escape route. 

“Ohh, the hologram doesn’t show this, but there are now trees on the west of this tower.” H pointed appropriately. 

“Oh wow. They’re finally trying out terraforming,” False commented. 

“There might be some chests there, and it’ll be useful if one of us can climb trees,” H continued. “Fruit’s probably alright with it since he’s good at parkour.”

“Ren can climb trees!” False said brightly. “He chops trees for us hermits!”

Ren flushed. “Ohh geez. I’m not particularly fast though.”

“Don’t be so humble!” False exclaimed, patting his shoulder.

“Great! We know who to send!” Fruit said. “Also, False, you’re good at shooting, right? It’ll be good to find a secluded spot and shoot stragglers.”

False suddenly became very interested in playing with her hair. “I mean, I do try to shoot accurately.”

“Don’t be so humble!” Ren said, echoing her words. 

“You two, stop sleeping on yourselves again!” H commanded. “Sorry,” the hermits mumbled like they were little kids (hilarious, because they were both older than H and Fruit.)

H mentioned he had watched the testers and said they should find loot from areas closest to the border. “We can get so much food from the outskirts,” H insisted. “And we can avoid the other teams while we gear up.”

“Yup, running away. Our favourite strategy,” False said cheekily.

H paused. “No, I’m serious. Sometimes running away doesn’t mean you’re scared— it means you’re smart.”

They tinkered on their Survival Games strategy for a while, then moved on to H’s favourite Bingo. They were initially planning on discussing their Sands of Time strategies, but everybody started yawning. 

“Alrighty, bedtime,” H declared. He playfully slapped Fruit’s back. “No staying up till 3am, Fruit.”

“Ohh, so you do that too?” Ren asked Fruit, seeming excited.

“Maybe don’t stay up late?” False offered in a lighthearted tone. She was one of the hermits with a more organised schedule. “Ren, I’m pretty sure you spent like a whole night awake on the 3-H campus.”

Ren blinked. “Oh yeah. I was working on my lighting system with Iskall. With lava lamps and lanterns and stuff. Just two bros, chilling under the moonlight.”

“I’m just happy you didn’t burn down our stuff.”

“Wait, burn?”

“Yup!” Ren cheerfully showed his hands to a flabbergasted H and Fruit. “Here are some burn scars I’ve got from my latest project. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Oookay.” H sounded disbelieving, but let it slide.

Fruit inspected Ren’s hands. “Huh, be careful. We don’t want them to hurt so badly that it impacts your performance.”

“Ohh, that’s right. Lemme check the school forum before I sleep.” H took out his phone and started scrolling. “I wonder what they have to say about us—“

H’s face suddenly turned stony. The other three shared concerned glances.

“You alright, Hmamma?” Ren asked tentatively.

The grimace left H’s face as quickly as it appeared. “Just saw some troll comments. Uh, Micheal C Reddit is putting us at 6th.”

“Oh.” False said. “Oh.”

H wrinkled his nose. “I mean, I… kinda expected this? They say we have potential, which is good, but other teams are just stronger.”

“I mean, they just don’t know how good we are!” Fruit nudged the hermits. “We’re a wild card. They don’t know much about us. We can easily surprise them and the other teams, since no one will be looking out for,” Fruit made air quotation marks, “a sixth place team.”

“Funny thing that we’re discussing them sleeping on us, because it’s time for us to sleep,” H said. “By the way, do you guys sleep on your belly or on your side?”

The other three looked confused by the random question. “Uhh, who sleeps on their belly?” False asked incredulously.

H shrugged. “I dunno, I heard that 86% of people sleep on their belly. That statistic is probably wrong, just like how we’re predicted to come 6th.”

“Wait.” H slammed his hand on a desk, his blue eyes bright. “I have an idea for a banger tweet.”

The rest of the Blue Bats watched as H speedily typed into his phone with a satisfied smirk.

“It's kinda crazy how 86% of people sleep on their belly, I sleep on my side and the entire MCC community sleep on the Blue Bats.”

H hit the “tweet” button, and off that little passage went. Nobody could’ve predicted that would become one of the most famous Championship copypastas. 

“We’ll prove to them just how wrong Reddit is,” H confidently stated. “But right now, we really need to sleep.”

They deftly maneuver and muscle for rank

Fuel burning fast on an empty tank

Reckless and wild, they pour through the turns

Their prowess is potent and secretly stern

When H woke up the next morning, he kinda expected to be the first to rise. But when he ambled to the living room, he was surprised to see False sitting there, munching on a banana.

“Oh hi. Morning,” False said, glancing up from her phone.

“Morning. Whatcha doing?”

“Texting Xisuma. He’s like, one of the only hermits up at this point.”

H slowly nodded, then went to get his own breakfast. “Wait False, have you seen the view from here?”

“What view?”

H opened the doors to the mini balcony. “This,” he gestured.

False curiously followed his gaze. “Oh— you can see 3-H from here!”

3-H, with its white towers and giant trees and colourful decorations, was on top of a densely vegetated hill. H had to admit he was very impressed every time he looked at 3-H. It was like some sort of Disneyland, and that affect was only amplified with the colour-coded zip lines around the hill. The morning breeze blew past him and False as they stared at 3-H from the balcony.

“I- I don’t really get to see 3-H from down here,” False admitted. “It’s a welcome change.”

“It’s gorgeous,” H breathed out. “You guys are nuts! The hermits are just built differently.”

False squinted at 3-H. “Well, now you know why most builds have a front and a back.”

H blinked, confused. “Wha—“

“This is the back of 3-H,” False said. “We intended for it to look good from the opposite side, and that’s why it looks a little funky from this angle. See my purple domes?” False pointed appropriately. “The colour clashes with Tango’s builds. Also man, the composition is a little weird. There’s too much going on here, and there’s a gap there, and…”

“I-I dunno,” H said with a shrug. “It still looks nice to me.” He was being honest and sincere. “But then I don’t know much about building.”

False hummed. “I guess it’s like us being impressed by your parkour skills. You’re impressed even with the backside of our stuff. Maybe we should just pull a Grian,” False muttered the last sentence to herself.

“Sorry, what?”

“Ohh, it’s an inside joke among the hermits,” False explained. “Grian tends to ignore the back of his builds and puts off doing it for as long as possible. So whenever we build a pretty front with nothing behind it, we call it pulling a Grian. Although that phrase can also mean a) peppering your neighbour with eggs b) capitalism or c) starting yet another war,” False said casually.

“... Alright.” H didn’t want to question. All hermits were probably crazy (in a good way). “Hey, when do you reckon will the others be awake? I’m certain Fruit will sleep through all his alarms.”

False checked the time. “I’ll give it another minute before Ren wakes up,” she lightly stated. “I’ll go make some coffee in the meantime.”

“Oo...kay?”

Sure enough, a minute later, a crash could be heard, followed by a yelp that was very distinctly Ren’s. It looked like he had fallen out of bed for some reason.

“I kinda picked up everyone’s schedules,” False admitted, a little embarrassed. “It’s hard not to when you see them every day.”

Footsteps could be heard. “Morning dudes!” Ren greeted them cheerfully. 

“Hey,” H greeted. “Did it hurt when you rolled out of bed?” 

“Ohh geez!” Ren snorted. “I was just excited.”

The three had breakfast as they waited for Fruit to wake up on time. He (predictably) didn’t, so H ended up entering Fruit’s room.

“WAKE UP!” H boomed, snatching Fruit’s blanket from him. 

“Nooooo,” Fruit whined like he was a child, his eyes still shut. “I’m sleeeeppyy…”

“C’mon Fruit, Ren even bought a box of Froot Loops for you,” False said, crossing her arms, amused by Fruit. 

“Fiiiine.” Fruit stumbled out of bed, his lime green hair a complete mess. “Gimme a minute.”

“Sooo. We’re doing PvP practice today.”

On a bright morning, the four of them were in the air-conditioned gym, wooden swords and shields next to them. This was a place Fruit in particular was familiar with. Fruit took a deep breath. He was totally in his element. Next to him, the two hermits glanced at the weapons, a little wary yet excited. Good. The hermits weren’t overconfident, but they were starting to come out of their shell.

Fruit led the warm up, then started to coach the two hermits. The primary weapons were axes and swords, and Fruit let them try both to see which they were more comfortable with. Despite being in 3-H, the H-as-in-Hermit class, they weren’t bad, and picked up the skills relatively quickly.

Of course, coming from a class of elite PvPers, there was no doubt a gap in skill level that they couldn’t bridge in two weeks’ time. But then, even a little improvement was better than none. 

“Alright guys, time for some practical duelling,” Fruit declared. He waved H over, who was dragging something from the storage system when Fruit was teaching the hermits. “You got the stuff, H?”

“Yup, sensei!” H was holding up the special suits used in the Championship. On the floor next to him was a box of the food stickers used to regain virtual health. 

“I’m sure you know this, but healing is also an important part of fighting in the Championship,” Fruit said. “So I wanna see you two duel.”

Ren and False shared glances. “Alright.”

Ren was naturally afraid of False, and backed away every time she approached. As they sparred, the other two carefully watched and offered advice. 

“Ren, don’t run!” H cried out. “She’s trying to corner you!”

Ren nervously looked around and realised he had indeed backed into a corner. False raised his sword—

“C’mon, Ren!” Fruit cheered. “She’s fast, but you’re strong too!”

Panting, Ren parried False’s attack then rose up. Taken aback, False retreated. Ren took advantage of the momentum. He rushed forward and swiftly landed a crit. 

“Nice one!” False gasped, pleasantly surprised. Ren took one look at the health bars displayed on his suit, and fumbled for a food sticker. While he was distracted, False pounced again, and this time, Ren had no time to react. Her sword slashed across his suit, and Ren winced.

With False gaining the upper hand again, she mercilessly attacked. Ren did land some blows, but False continued attacking, unstoppable. Soon, Ren’s back was pressed against a wall, and before he could raise his weapon, the tip of False’s sword was under his chin. Ren swallowed. False grinned. 

With the match concluded, False tossed Ren his water bottle. “GG, Ren,” she said easily. 

“That was really good, False!” H clapped. “You were really quick, and you know how to use your surroundings.”

“I think you guys understand why they say healing is important,” Fruit said. “Ren, you shouldn’t have healed back then. You could’ve gone for the kill and you would have a pretty good chance of winning. But False took advantage of your weakness, which is smart of her.”

Ren sighed and brushed dust off his pants. “Ughhh, you’re right. I panicked back then, dude.”

So Fruit taught the hermits when to apply food stickers to heal, and later H and Fruit gave them additional tips on how to score crits. Gradually, the Bats split off in duos— Fruit with H, False with Ren. The gym was soon filled with footsteps and the sounds of swords clashing. Everyone was hard at work. 

“AWWW FRUIT!” H bellowed when Fruit won yet again. He let his sword clatter to the ground. “You’re too good! I’m mad!”

Fruit chuckled. “Sorry, H. Third win in a row! Wooo yeah!”

Despite them fighting each other, the words they exchanged were lighthearted. The gap between their skill levels was still obvious— with Fruit being a Green God, H being from 3-A, and False being Hermitcraft’s PvP Queen. But they remained humble and helpful, and did their best to help each other. Interspersed with the PvP tips were witty remarks and banter, and they all thrived under the supportive and low-pressure environment. After 1v1s, they moved onto 2v2s, most notably Ren and H versus Fruit and False (affectionately dubbed “The Furries versus the Fruits”). You can guess which duo won that one.

Sweat trickled down their faces, and their muscles ached from the exercise. Practice was challenging in more ways than one. Not only did the hermits learn more skills, their mentors also learnt how to coach other students. 

Parkour, PvP, shooting, strategising, Dodgebolt— the Blue Bats’ first practice session that spanned three days and two nights passed by quickly. They learned to get along and cooperate, and even started gaining fans of their own. The “Blue Bats fans” were often already fans of individual members, and were touched by the Bats’ camaraderie and wholesomeness. To the Bats’ pleasant surprise, they already received fanart and numerous cheers of support. 

“Dudes! We already have a little fandom! That’s sweet!” Ren was beaming. 

“We’re gonna be a team everyone is gonna remember even six months after the 9th Championship,” H declared confidently. “I know I’m right.”

The Blue Bats agreed to have another big practice session a week later. And so on Sunday afternoon, the four said their goodbyes and went home, tired out by their fruitful practice sessions.

But a shower and a nap later, Ren returned to the parkour course and practiced again and again until he lost count of how many times he fell. Band-aids littered his knees and elbows, but he gritted his teeth and persevered. 

With moonlight illuminating his window, H peered at footage of old Championships, replaying the scenes again and again. His pen moved furiously as he jotted down notes, not caring if his eyes were dry.

Fruit didn’t sleep until 3am, but this time he was studying different PvP tactics and wondering which one would suit his team the most. Even when he slept, he dreamed of colourful parkour blocks and sweat dripping on swords and the adrenaline rush of chasing after enemies. 

False woke up extra early on Monday. In the privacy of her own room, dimly lit by the rising sun, she practiced her sword skills. Fruit’s words echoed in her head, guiding her nimble feet on the floor. Swish. Flick. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

So a few hours later, Fruit and H returned to their 3-A life, and False and Ren trekked up the hill to their 3-H. Just as usual. 

It appeared nothing had changed, but the Blue Bats knew better.

They knew they weren’t the strongest. They hadn’t known each other the longest. Maybe they really were a 6th place team. Maybe they couldn’t get to Dodgebolt after all.

But they had each other. And they sure as hell weren’t going to let each other down.

The arena is empty except for one man

Still driving and striving as fast as he can

The sun has gone down and the moon has come up

And long ago somebody left with the cup

But he's driving and striving and hugging the turns

And thinking of someone for whom he still burns

Chapter Text

Mumbo: It’s Friday afternoon… you know what this means!!

Grian: ROADTRIP!!!

False: oh man i thought you were gonna say blue bats practice session :D

Grian: is it bad i literally forgot about that

False: ...you’re in the 9th championship :P

Grian: yeah lol

Ren: #BlueBats4Life!! :D 

“Alright, let’s gooooo!”

Grian and Mumbo hopped into Mumbo’s van, which was jam packed with cameras, recording equipment, hygiene products, and muffins. They set off immediately after school was finished. Several hermits sent them off, most of them secretly wondering how chaotic their trip would be.

“Bye everyone! I’ll miss stealing your doors!” Grian called out of the window as Mumbo stepped on the pedal. Wind whipped past Grian’s cheeks as he hurriedly stuck his head inside the van again. “Geez Mumbo, tell me when you’re gonna start driving!” he exclaimed.

“I thought it was common sense to not stick your head out of the car window?!” Mumbo snarked back.

“Ohhh boy.” Grian rolled his eyes. “I feel this is going to be a dangerous trip.”

“It’s only dangerous if you’re here, Gri.”

Now that they were on the road to their first destination, Grian decided they needed some entertainment. “Alright Mumbo, let’s play something,” he called out.

Mumbo laughed. “Okay, you choose.” A pause. “I know I’m gonna regret making you choose though.”

Grian fiddled with the music player. A few seconds later, a soothing voice filled the van. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much-“

Mumbo scoffed. “Harry Potter? Really?”

“You know I listen to those seven books while I work. Okay, joke over, moving on.” 

There was a pause, then a song that Mumbo and Grian were too familiar with started playing. 

“Muuumbo Jumbo! Finest mustache in the land, pinstripe suit he has a plan! Vote Mumbo Jumbo for Mayor!”

Mumbo started subconsciously bopping his head to the music. “We really did choose the right person for the job.”

“Yeah,” Grian agreed. “I really like Jono’s music.”

“Muuumbo Jumbo! Talking ‘bout the people’s Champ, have your say and take your stand! Vote Mumbo Jumbo for Mayor!”

“Man, that was so good. Too bad it’s a bit short.”

“Not to worry. I downloaded Elybeatmaker’s entire playlist.”

“Niceee.”

A groovy beat started playing. “Do you even bust, bro?” Grian moodily sang, imitating Iskall’s voice. Mumbo giggled. “Do you even bust, ma lover?”

For the hours that followed, Grian and Mumbo sang remixes done by Elybeatmaker and songs composed by Jono. (“IT ALL STARTED WITH GRIAN TOUCHED MY REDSTONE, HE PLAYED HIMSELF LIKE A XYLOPHONE SET ON AUTOMATIC—“ “Umm, Grian, this a song made to roast you.” “Yeah, but it’s catchy.”)

And so they had a jolly good time. (Except when Grian fell off his seat way too many times.)

The Blue Bats were back with their second practice session. This time, they weren’t going to stay in the school dorms. Fruit had found a practice arena outside that allowed them to practice PvP with other people, and they were gonna spend the night there. But before any of the PvP stuff, they had a quick run through of the parkour course as a warm up. There were also a few other Championship participants such as Pearl and Kara there. The participants said hello when they passed by each other on the parkour course.

“Ren, you’ve gotten so much better!” H bellowed as Ren blasted through the first few levels.

“I was gonna say that!” False chimed in, a few paces ahead of Ren.

“Thank you, thank you,” Ren chuckled.

H chortled. “I was just walking you through these first ones and I was like, ‘do I need to teach this guy anything? He knows everything’.”

Ren paused, and looked at his teammates. He raised his chin dramatically. “Listen. I will NOT come ninth ever again. I’ve had enough of ninth place!”

“Never again,” False agreed. “No more ninth place for us.”

“Let’s goooo,” Fruit cheered as he scampered up a ladder. “Wait, did I just find a skip—?”

Fruit occasionally found alternate ways to do the jumps the more the team went through them. They weren’t necessarily faster though, but it was still fun to discover something new. (“We should tell Mr. Major and Noxcrew about unintended shortcuts though. I feel that’s behaviour that’s expected of participants.”) Fruit then claimed he didn’t really know how to explain the jumps, he relied on his muscle memory, and Ren joked about stealing Fruit’s brain. The topic of Ren’s brain came up surprisingly often during parkour practice. 

Ren’s brain once forgot he was supposed to be doing a double jump, and he easily slipped off the parkour platforms. “Aww,” he groaned, “my brain just went 404 error back then. Couldn’t register it.”

As Fruit and H chatted, Ren tried again, but again his legs couldn’t reach the platform. He dragged his feet up the ladders and exhaled. 

“Stupid idiot brain I hate you,” Ren furiously muttered under his breath. Then in a louder voice, he asked, “Can you get a new brain on Amazon these days?”

“Fortunately not,” H replied the same time False said, “Probably? Only not human though.”

H gave False a look, but decided not to say anything. Maybe it was a hermit thing (H heard they had clones roaming around in the 3-H classroom).

There was another time when the Bats decided to time how much of the course they could complete in ten minutes, but False had gone ahead, so everyone cried out “come back here and do it with us! We’re a team!”. Ren was still pretty impressed by how quick the 3-A students were, to which they replied they lived on the parkour course. “We’ve been here for years,” H joked.

Ren, as expected, lagged behind the other three. “Ugh, what am I doing?” he muttered to himself as he took the wrong path for a parkour course.

H overheard. “What are you doing right now?”

“Being an idiot is what I’m doing,” Ren replied flippantly.

H groaned, once again tired of Ren looking down on himself. “Stop that, Ren!”

“That’s alright!” False cheered him up. “Being an idiot now means you’ll learn from your mistakes so you can do good in the actual event.”

“We have all the time in the world to be idiots right now,” Fruit affirmed. “So let’s go get it!”

Maybe it was due to the time restraint of ten minutes, but the Bats felt like their limbs weren’t cooperating. Their heart rate quickened, and their fingers fumbled to grab onto platforms. Some jumps that seemed so easy suddenly became unattainable, and the Bats laughed at their silly blunders.

“Noooo!” False whined. “I’m making mistakes I don’t usually make!” She tripped, and fell flat on her face. “Argh!”

H grabbed onto a pipe, and dragged himself up. “We’re all making mistakes we shouldn’t be making right now. It’s the pressure.”

“Well, I’m catching up at least!” came Ren’s voice from behind, and False was quick to respond.

“Don’t say you're catching up, Ren!” she jokingly told him. “You’re not allowed to!”

There were a few seconds of silence as the Bats struggled and sighed, fully aware of the ticking timer. Sure, their parkour skills had improved, but parkour was still a beast to conquer. 

“This is pain,” Fruit quietly uttered. Even the person who was the best at parkour was getting tired of it.

“Yup, this is pain,” H echoed 

“The whole course is pain,” False declared.

Ren stared at the (painful) panes section in front of him, one he had failed time and time again. He paused for a moment to catch his breath. “It really is. But the irony is, what if we don’t even do it on the day?”

“We might not, but we’ll be ready for the next one!” False optimistically replied. “Gotta think in the long term.”

H added on, “This isn’t a waste of time; it’s good for practicing in the future.”

To distract everyone from the pain of parkour, Ren decided he wanted some small talk. “So guys, what are your favourite events in the Championship?”

“Not sure… Bingo?” Fruit replied hesitantly.

“Like, the one you enjoy the most.”

Fruit hummed thoughtfully. “I played Rocket Spleef for the first time and it’s a blast.”

“Yeah, yeah.” “That’s pretty fun.” The hermits were quick to agree due to liking Rocket Spleef as well. Surprisingly enough, the main campus students didn’t use ziplines often, but they were a staple in every hermit’s daily life. Clearly, the hermits were rich enough to afford daily use of ziplines. 

“I like the parkour race one,” Ren said, who had conveniently forgotten the name of Ace Race. “Y’know, the one with speed boosts and bouncy jumps.”

“That was really fun!” Fruit agreed with a smile. 

“Yeah, I like that too. But I also like Sands of Time,” H told everyone. “It’s the strategy. And y’know, I’m good at group games.”

“Yeah, and I think the Championship is one of the best things I’ve seen in my entire life,” Ren said. He wasn’t lying. The entire event was so intricately organized and absolutely beautiful. As a hermit, they were used to seeing beautiful things daily, but the Championship still managed to be wholly impressive. 

“I agree,” False chipped in.

“Noxcrew is nuts!” H boldly proclaimed. “What they’ve done with the event is so amazing compared to other events.”

“Yeah, the whole thing is just flawless.” Ren groaned audibly because he was still stuck on the panes section when everyone else had moved on. “Unlike my jumps. Ugh, these panes!”

“Breathe. Go to the corner and jump,” H instantly reminded Ren. 

“I need to have some tea and reset my brain,” Ren joked, “‘cause I’m definitely tilted right now.”

H chuckled. “It’s alright, Ren. Take your time. That’s what this practice is for.”

During the practice sessions, the four also discovered their mutual love for Pokemon. Which acted as a great conversation starter when they took a break from practicing.

“I opened a Pokemon pack yesterday,” H eagerly told the other three as they massaged their sore muscles.

Ren took a sip of his tea. “Yo, did those boosters smell nice?” he asked curiously. 

“Ohh yeah-“ H replied, but was interrupted by False shooting Ren a very odd look. “A nice smell?” she repeated, almost mockingly. 

Ren gasped. “False! Don’t laugh! With each print run, sometimes you use different types and amounts of ink, so it actually changes the smell of the cards.”

False raised an eyebrow, clearly disbelieving. “Alright.” 

“I-it’s a thing, False!” Ren enthusiastically repeated. “It’s all in the ink! You can smell the… cards.” Ren’s smile started to slip from his face upon realizing how silly he gradually sounded.

“Okay!” False did not look convinced at all, but at least she looked amused. “Sounds great!”

After their quick break, they went to the beginning and started a new ten minutes round. Parkour practice was gruelling, but the only way to improve was to try again and again.

“Boom! Nailed it!” Ren declared proudly after he finished a level in record time.

“I wanna keep on hearing that!” H called out. “I wanna hear boom over and over again!”

“Boom is a good word,” Fruit said like it made sense.

“Yeah,” False also agreed like it made sense.

“Boom is the hype word!”

“Badaboom!” Ren cheerfully declared when he finished yet another course. 

“THERE we go!” H said happily. “Attaboom! Attaboom is when you get it on the first try.”

“BINGBADABOOM, BABEY!” Ren screamed when he got past the slime jumps and dashed by False.

“Aww, dangit Ren!” False laughed. “You can’t overtake me.”

Ren cheekily grinned and leapt to the next platform. “Smell ya later, Falsie.”

“Oh no,” False drily declared. “It’s game over now.”

“The dreaded panes are coming though,” Ren reminded her.

False chuckled, probably understanding the double meaning of “panes” and “pains”. “Yup, it’s coming.”

As predicted, Ren got stuck on the panes section again. He grunted when he fell for the fifth time. Just as he was about to sit down for a moment, False’s voice came ominously behind him. “I’m coming for you, Ren!” That instantly propelled Ren to start moving again out of competitiveness. He stumbled to his feet and jumped towards the nearest pane.

“No! Falsie! Slow down!” he protested.  Since the hermits couldn’t compare with H and Fruit, they might as well compete among themselves. Ren fell from the panes and had to scramble to the start again. At the same time, False leapt on the first pane, and flashed Ren a triumphant grin. She had caught up with him. “It’s Ren and False on the panes,” she declared. 

“Ooh, I saw Pearl pass by me, and I thought it was you guys,” H laughed from way ahead.

False could only chuckle and reply, “One day, man. One day,”

“When will that day be?”

“Like, two years later at least. Alright, catch you later Ren.” 

False swiftly jumped from the last pane to the platform in front of her, thus finishing the section that Ren was still struggling with. “Nooooo!” He dramatically whined. “Falsie! Don’t leave me!”

“I had to, dude!” False sounded like she had no regrets. She spun on her heel and didn’t look back. “See ya!”

“I’ll never talk to you again,” Ren muttered under his breath. (He did, approximately three seconds later.)

A few levels ahead, Fruit and H were also competing with each other the same way the hermits were. It was a bit of a nostalgic trip for them, because they used to be rivals in the Championships.

“I’m coming for ya Fruityyy!” H drawled as he nudged Fruit in the ribs. “Get outta here, we’re teammates!”

Fruit snorted and swatted H’s arm away. “Huh, so we’re enemies now! We’re rivals, if you will.”

“Ohh, no. That was the 6th Championship!”

“Me and you were fighting for 5th place. I even said I hated you.” H laughed, but his competitiveness quickly turned into admiration when he watched Fruit complete a level with grace and ease. “Aww, you’re really good at this, Fruit.”

Fruit grinned. “You’re not bad either, H.”

It was at that precise moment Scott entered the area. “Heyo!” He waved at the students, then turned to nod at the hermits. “Wow, you guys are practicing hard.”

“Of course we are,” False panted as she struggled with her jumps. “Uh hi, Mr. Major.”

“Don’t waste your breath talking to him,” H laughed. “We can talk when we’re finished with our ten minutes.”

Scott glared at H. “H, is that how you treat your elders? I’m banning you from the 10th Championship.”

“AWWW YEAH!” False whooped when she finally finished a stage she spent way too long on. She hurried to the next one, and nearly smacked into a familiar figure with beige hair. “Oh hey, Pearl!”

“Hi False! My old teammate! I guess we crafters really do have to practice for parkour,” Pearl laughed. “Good luck to you and your team!”

“Thanks! May the best team win!”

The ten minutes swiftly passed, and the Bats regrouped to discuss their performance. “If I hadn’t gotten stuck on the panes, I would’ve gone to the gold sections. There are easy levels after the panes,” Ren groaned. He’d been so stuck on them that False bypassed him with relative ease, and it took him embarrassingly long to finish the level after False did.

False patted Ren’s shoulder, confident in Ren’s abilities. “Yeah, for sure. You would definitely do that. The panes is the one I practiced the most in my free time, and it really shows that I’ve, you know, gotten better. It’s worth practicing that one.”

“Hey Ren, you got to 5-2 which was the, uh, backward jump?” H asked.

“Yeah. The kabooty jump,” Ren confirmed. (They were all used to the weird names he gave.)

H stared at Ren, bright blue eyes wide. “Ren, you know how good that is compared to how you did in the actual event?”

“Oh yeah!” Ren chuckled. “I mean, it’s night and day thanks to you guys.”

“Aww, don’t mention it!” H slapped Ren’s back. “You worked really hard too! By the way Fruit, we’re going outside school next, yeah?”

Fruit looked up. “Oh yeah, I found a practice arena for us. Minecraft Ultimate. It’s gonna have something a bit like Hunger Games, which fits because, y’know, we’re scared of SG. And it’ll put our PvP skills to practical use.”

“I see, I see,” False said. She flexed her arm muscles, testing them. “But I’m a little bit nervous about that…”

“We can practice PvP here for a bit before going there,” H suggested. “Just between us. For warming up.”

Ren yawned. “That sounds great, but I’m honestly exhausted right now. Catch me when I fall into your arms, Hmamma.”

“I mean, we did spend a lot of time on parkour today,” Fruit mentioned. “How about we do some PvP among us (haha, amongus), check in at the arena so we can stay overnight, and start playing Hunger Games tomorrow?”

“Sure.” “Yup, that sounds solid.” The rest of the Bats swiftly agreed with Fruit, and after a short break, they went on with practicing PvP. 

Ren and False were furiously duelling in the air-conditioned gym, while H and Fruit were shouting out encouragements from the side. Even though they were good friends (or maybe because they were good friends), False didn’t go easy on Ren. Ren’s hand shook, but his grip on his sword remained steady. Even False was getting tired, and she missed more often than she liked. Still she advanced, her sword clashing with Ren’s. 

“LET’S GO, RENPOG!” H screamed. The health bar on Ren’s suit was getting dangerously low, but that didn’t deter him. He’d lost to False every time, and this time, he wanted to go out with a bang. With fire in his veins and his face contorted with determination, he charged, mouth open in a battle cry.

“AAAAAAHHH-“

“-AHH!”

A high pitched squeal. Then a crash. Mumbo hummed. 

“Goodness Gri, what was that noise?”

“What was that noise?” Grian repeated mockingly as he stumbled to his feet, using the car seat as support. “Your horrible driving skills made me roll off the seat! Mumbo, I was sleeping!”

Mumbo continued driving, unaffected. “Well maybe you should’ve used a seat belt!” he said cheerily.

Grian scowled, and reached for a helmet that was conveniently next to him. “Well maybe you need to have your driver’s license revoked!”

Sweat. Blood. Tears. The two hermits were giving it their all, and they were close to reaching their limit. False’s hands started to shake violently, while Ren’s legs wobbled. Ren took a step forward to continue his attack, but his legs gave way and he collapsed to the ground. False and H quickly helped him up and brought him to a bench.

“I’m alright,” Ren insisted. “I can do better.”

Despite the air conditioning blasting in the gym, they were all dripping with sweat. False reached for her water bottle and let the cool water soothe her throat.

Her eyes landed on the sword on the ground. Not ninth, not ninth, she chanted in her head. No more ninth place. 

The hermits were on fire. Nothing could stop them—

“Muffin?”

“Muffin.”

So Grian and Mumbo had muffins. Mumbo tried to talk, but ended up spewing crumbs everywhere. So naturally he stopped.

He and Grian tried communicating with each other through eyebrow waggling. It was certainly fun and stimulating. Mumbo wanted to laugh so much he nearly choked on his muffin.

Grian was still wearing his helmet.

“Good job!”

False and Ren high fived after another duel. Both of them lasted longer this time, showing they were getting better. They exchanged tired but proud smiles.

“Great work, guys!” H cried out, ever enthusiastic. 

“We’re gonna do sooo good at the Championship,” Fruit promised them. “All of this hard work will be worth it.”

The Blue Bats sat on a bench, side by side. They had content grins on their faces.

“I’m sure the other hermits will be proud of you!” H happily told False and Ren.

Xisuma: Mumbo what did you just send??

Xisuma: why is Grian climbing out of the van window??

Xisuma: Don’t do that!!

Joe: dadsuma 

Iskall: LOL

Xisuma: why can’t you two behave

Joe: X is disgusted, revolted, he dedicates his entire life to our lord and saviour Herobrine and THIS is the thanks he gets?

False: hi guys blue bats selfie :D

False: [image]

False: ...

False: wait did i send at the wrong moment

Tango: Well at least ONE hermit duo isn’t causing trouble

Mumbo: HAHA

False: ...or are we though

False: :D

Tango: what can you and ren get up to, it surely can’t be worse than mumbo driving skills

Iskall: exCUSE me tangotek sir

Iskall: they buried my sandcastle with diorite once

Iskall: some sort of red velvet demon cake

False: AHA but that was after YOU made the pooping chicken on my stuff!

Iskall: and THAT was because mumbo gave me diorite!!

Joe: Let’s not start the Civil War again guys

Xisuma: we’re meant to be professional minecrafters…

Tango: you’ve all broken xisuma, apologize to him

Grian: sorry dad

Iskall: you dont sound sorry

Grian: exactly

Evening came, and so the Blue Bats left school and went to the arena Fruit told them of. Minecraft Ultimate was surprisingly deserted, but the Bats believed their fans would come and help them practice tomorrow. They checked in their rooms, took showers, and hung out in the living room. Everybody was exhausted, so they just laid on couches until Ren’s phone buzzed. “Ooh, incoming video call from Grian!”

“That’s right, he’s on that road trip with Mumbo.” False moved closer to Ren so she could be in the call as well. H and Fruit shuffled awkwardly, not wanting to ignore them but also not wanting to get too involved in the hermits’ affairs. 

“Hey Daddy G! What’s up!” Ren greeted.

The view was shaking as Grian struggled to find a flattering angle. In the end, he gave his phone to Mumbo, who was taller and had longer arms. “Hey Ren! Hey False! How’s practice?”

False and Ren exchanged looks. “Good, I think,” False replied.

“Wish I could say the same over here,” Grian’s voice came out. “I’ve Mcfallen at least five times. Mumbo’s a terrible driver. Can’t believe I’m still alive.”

“Wh-wha-wait,” Mumbo stuttered, laughing. “Grian, what are you saying—“

“All I can say is that I don’t trust Mumbo Jumbo around cars anymore even though he loves cars,” Grian announced. “Do you know how terrifying it is being in his van?”

“Let’s change the topic!” Mumbo’s voice was overly enthusiastic. “Do you guys know Grian literally persuaded a random person to lend us their lawn for us to sleep in?”

The hermits blinked. They knew Grian was charismatic, but this was going a bit too far. Starting wars? Sure. Borrowing someone’s lawn? Nope. Totally unbelievable.

“I have no idea how he did that,” Mumbo said. The view suddenly shook violently and thumping sounds could be heard. “Ah, sorry, dropped the phone—“

“It’s my phone!” Grian’s squeals sounded in the background.

“Calm down and have a muffin!” was Mumbo’s very wise retort. The camera stopped shaking, and Mumbo’s pale face came into view again. “But it’s been fun I suppose. The footage is a nightmare to edit though.”

“Not much of a nightmare as surviving Mumbo’s driving skills!” Grian yelled, voice muffled by the muffin he was presumably eating. 

“I really want to boot him out of the van,” came Mumbo’s deadpan voice.

“Do it,” False and Ren replied in unison. As Mumbo and Grian fake argued, voices getting progressively higher and higher pitched, Ren sighed wistfully.

“Ahh, this is making me nostalgic for the road trips I used to have.” Ren smiled fondly.

“Ohhh of course. Because you had Roadtrip Sally,” Grian popped in with a smirk.

“Who’s Roadtrip Sally?” H and Fruit asked together.

“Ohh wait is Fruit next to you guys?” Grian’s words came out in a hurry. “Hii Fruity B! Hi HBomb! We’re just embarrassing Ren; normal Hermitcraft behaviour over here.”

“I can tell,” H laughed. “So pray tell me, who’s Roadtrip Sally? Don’t tell me she’s Sally the Salmon, because she’s Fundy’s mom and Wilbur’s ex and that’s hella awkward.”

There was dead silence. Everybody stared at H. “What?”

“I-I’m not even going to question this anymore,” came Mumbo’s bewildered voice.

Ren cleared his throat, a sheepish look in his eyes. “So, my road trip companion was known as Roadtrip Sally. Roadtrip Sally was a cardboard cut out of a very beautiful woman with um…” Ren grunted. “... Shall we say, rather large…”

Ren loudly whistled, and shot everyone knowing looks. “You know what I’m sayin’?”

H and Fruit were already dying of laughter. False looked like she was regretting her life choices. Grian was still eating his muffin.

“And I thought Hermitcraft was family friendly,” Fruit got out between giggles.

“We are!” False protested, also laughing. “Ren’s just an outsider!”

Ren continued with his story, cheeks getting redder and redder. “And I basically… Uh, I mean, this is gonna sound pretty bad, but I was- yeah, I-I may or not have stolen her from a pharmacy.”

There was a pause as everyone stared at him.

“And by “may or may not have” I mean I kinda did.”

“Of course,” H murmured.

“She was a cardboard cut out advertising sun cream in a pharmacy. But she was in a swimming costume. And she had, like… She had pretty tasty, uh…” Ren whistled even longer, his eyebrows waggling. “Ya know what I’m sayin’? She was hot, man!”

H and Fruit had already collapsed on the floor in laughter. False eyed Ren critically. “... I live next to you and I have never seen Roadtrip Sally.”

“Consider it a blessing,” Grian quickly said. 

“I’ll take your word for it,” was False’s reply. 

“Alright guys, guess I’ll end the call because you two must be sleepy,” came Mumbo’s voice from the other side. “Honestly, Grian and I spent the whole day doing nothing but singing to Elybeatmaker. We had such a productive day compared to you guys.”

“Sounds fun,” Ren cheerily replied. “Okay, catch you guys later!”

With a press of a finger, he ended the call. The hermits turned to see Fruit and H still cackling about Roadtrip Sally.

“You STOLE a cardboard cut out from a pharmacy?!” Fruit wheezed. “That’s awesome!”

H wiped tears from his eyes. “It’s funny, but theft is wrong…”

“I mean,” False said humorously. “It’s not stealing if you don’t get caught!”

Ren patted False’s shoulder. “That’s the spirit!”

“I would rather steal something more useful than a literal piece of cardboard though.”

“But it’s a piece of cardboard with very… ahem… assets.”

“Niceeee,” Fruit cheered. H raised a thumbs up. False took one piece of Weetabix and chucked it at Ren, which slammed into his head with a (satisfying) thump. “Go to horny jail.”

Ren quickly raised his hands and squinted at False. “Ouch! That hurt! What the heck, man!”

“It’s not my fault that you decided to bring hard pieces of cereal for breakfast that can conveniently act as a projectile!” False said innocently. 

“Geez. Can’t have peace and quiet here!” Ren huffed. He turned on his heel. “I’m gonna sleep now, see you never!”

The first thing the Bats did next morning was to ask their fans to come practice with them for Hunger Games. “We need canon fodder!” Ren declared. H then added a very encouraging “COME DIE!”

Luckily for the Bats, their loyal fans were very interested in helping the Bats out, and came in droves. While they waited for the arena to be set up, Ren told everyone about his “hideous” sunburn, which H enjoyed making fun off. Ren, as always, was pretty impressed with his surroundings and said he liked the big yellow “Minecraft Ultimate sign”. 

“You know, this is the place Techno, Calvin and Nester destroyed,” H remarked with a laugh. 

Fruit glanced around and added on, “They got over a hundred kills. My classmates are crazy.”

“It was disgusting,” H whispered in an awed tone. “It… it wasn’t pretty.”

Soon, everyone was ready. Gear such as armour, weapons and food were randomly distributed among players, and just like the Hunger Games, there was a middle area with lots of supplies for players to loot. The bushes and trees provided the players with some hiding space, but still, the area was extremely small compared to that of the main campus. Although explicitly teaming up wasn’t allowed, the Bats decided not to kill each other and kept communicating through their earpieces. 

The first round of Hunger Games started off with a bang, and the Bats started to talk about needing a better sword or better armour. Gearing up was especially important during the grace period when nobody was allowed to hurt people. “I got granny gear on,” Ren mentioned, which confused everybody. Even strangers passing by Ren shot him baffled looks.

“What’s granny gear?” H asked through the intercoms.

Ren chuckled as he rummaged through a chest. “Chainmail.”

“Awww, I like chainmail! It’s not granny gear,” H retorted, sounding offended.

“But it kinda looks like granny lacing, y’know?”

Jokes aside, they tried their best to survive, but False was quickly eliminated due to having leather armour only. A few moments of struggling later, H also went out. “Aww, man. Now it’s all up to Fruit and Ren,” H declared. False and H hurried outside the arena and watched the other two through cameras while continuing giving them advice.

“We’re watching you, Ren,” came False’s voice from the earpiece. “Your health’s low, be careful. No pressure though.”

A player came into Ren’s vision, and Ren raised his gun. “Get him!” False immediately cried out. Ren peppered the player with pellets, the player’s health dropped to zero and a cannon boomed from a distance. The Bats instantly erupted with joy. “YEAHHH!!” “Yas Ren!” “GOTTEM!”

“Ren’s been practicing!” False whooped enthusiastically. “Ren’s been using aimbot-”

Coincidentally at that exact moment, Ren was eliminated by a bullet on his chest. “Dangit!” he roared, but he quickly shifted his focus to cheering for Fruit, the only surviving member of the Bats. Fruit, who was fully geared up, ran towards others and started whacking them with his sword. “Oooh, Fruityloops on the hunt, babey!” 

The defeated players, more often than not, were fans who had volunteered to play with the Bats. “Hi H, False, and Ren!” they cried out. “You guys are gonna win the Championship!”

“Thanks!” H replied, delighted. “You guys are gonna help us win the Championship! It’s so cool that you’re supporting us in more ways than one.”

Everyone watched Fruit with bated breath, and screamed when he got another kill. “Fruity with the frags, baby!” Ren whooped. He noted when Fruit picked up the loot from the fallen player and started throwing out useless items. “Sifting through the rubbish is definitely a skill in this too,” Ren remarked. “Oh and Fruity, you move so fast it’s absolutely ridiculous.”

Fruit nimbly leapt around, but still he couldn’t avoid the three water balloons labelled “TNT” which were tossed at him and a handful of players. Three players were eliminated instantly, and an exhausted Fruit flopped to the ground. His head was completely drenched with water. “Oh wow, GG. I went from full to zero.”

“F.” “Oh noooo.” “Rip Fruit!” “Fruit, I’m so sorry.” The spectators were quick to react to Fruit’s death. H tossed Fruit a towel. “Guys, we did so good!” H insisted. “Let’s go for another round!”

“Alright, Mumbo, I have a small request.”

A pause. “Okay, Grian?”

“Can you drive safely for once? I’m about to have an important call with the charity from Ghana. You know I’m raising funds for the Denyaseman Pre-School project during the 9th Championship. So be nice for once, alright?”

“W-well, I might as well park the van!” Mumbo exclaimed. “Since you’re so picky about this,” he muttered under his breath. 

“But then we’ll never get to our destination in time! And we’re behind schedule because someone got lost yesterday!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten distracted if someone wasn’t threatening to steal my mustache!”

Through the rearview mirror, Mumbo saw Grian open his mouth, but Grian’s phone rang abruptly. He instantly shut his mouth and picked up his phone. Grian saw Mumbo looking at him through the rearview mirror, and narrowed his eyes. “Do not ruin this for me, Mumbo,” he seethed, suddenly vaguely sounding like a Star Wars villain. Mumbo felt shivers go down his spine. 

Then Grian answered the call and his demeanor changed faster than Stan Twit could cancel someone they barely knew about over a tweet from 2013. “Hello, my name is Grian,” Grian said pleasantly, a soft smile on his face. “So glad to be in touch with you, I…”

Mumbo started humming nonchalantly, and Grian glared at him, as if screaming “don’t you dare”.

“Fine! Fine!” Mumbo huffed. “I’ll do my best, okay?! It’s more for the charity’s sake than your sake, really.”

Grian rolled his eyes. Despite him still talking to the charity, the sentiment he was conveying was obvious. Mumbo, you’re the worst.

The Blue Bats started their second Hunger Games session, eager to do better than they did last time. An ambitious Ren decided to chase after a player, and hit him once. The player charged at him, and Ren raised his axe. A swift crit later and the deed was done. “Gottem!” Ren gleefully declared. 

Fruit was there to witness the fight, and flashed Ren a smile. “Yeah, that was nice! Just practice the timing. Ren, I watched that, and that was really good. You just lured him into a crit, and then you just kinda destroyed his health.”

“Geez man,” Ren grunted as he sorted through the dropped equipment. “The loot is so annoying. But I’m probably focusing on the wrong thing- you don’t have to worry about this, right?”

“Just throw away anything that’s really bad, like the wooden stuff,” Fruit advised. 

“Yeah, I’m just gonna focus on fighting, I think.”

“But Ren,” H called out. “Remember we’re gonna fight as a team in Survival Games- that is, if it gets chosen. Maybe someone can loot for us while the others fight.”

Despite the PvP, the players were extremely nice and friendly, many of them exclaiming “GG!” and “oh no Ren!” when he was eliminated. One even said “you’re too good for me, you killed me easily” while Ren’s first victim delightedly exclaimed “good job Ren, you destroyed me at the start with the axe!”. It didn’t feel like a battle against strangers. It actually felt like a cozy practice session between the Bats and their supporters.

With H also eliminated, people start to cheer for False, who was chasing after an unfortunate player. “Go False, go!” they hollered. “I believe in you, False!”

“Oooh, nice dodge there,” Ren commented after False leapt to the side to avoid a bullet. False grunted in reply.

“I’m here to assist!” came a familiar voice. Fruit emerged from the trees, diamond sword glinting in the light. “Don’t worry, False!”

“Nooo!” False shrieked, waving her sword at Fruit. She was utterly dismayed. “Don’t steal my kill!”

“Go Frooty Loops!” the spectators cried out, having adopted Ren’s nickname for Fruit. “Fruit’s destroying everyone!”

Players were dropping like flies, and soon there were only four people in the arena, with two being Fruit and False. The spectators excitedly murmured among themselves about the possibility of a Fruit versus False finale. Fortunately (or not), they managed to kill the last two, and came to the realisation they had to fight each other.

“It’s literally just us two,” False giggled, nervously backing away from Fruit. “Oh no. This is where game over is, guys.”

Fruit rummaged in his bag, not wanting to scare False too badly. “Uhh, I can give you some gear?” he offered. 

False batted an arm. “Nah nah nah, I’m good.” She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. “Let’s just go.”

The two circled each other, sizing each other up. Fruit, abiding by gentleman’s rules, decided not to attack until False, the weaker one, felt prepared. “You ready?”

A nervous gulp. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

False made the first move by shooting, and Fruit instantly dodged. They exchanged bullets, but after a while, False became a little tired of the long distance attacks. She boldly charged towards Fruit with a diamond sword, who turned around just in time. Their swords clashed, but Fruit retreated for a second and came back with a crit crashing on False’s chest plate. False winced and retreated, her momentum disrupted. But with the cheers from the audience, False surged forward again and started chasing Fruit. Fruit turned around occasionally to shoot her with pellets. False put up a valiant fight that Ren passionately narrated, but as expected, Fruit won the battle.

“Ooh I got twelve kills!” Fruit chuckled as he glanced at the leaderboard. The spectators were sufficiently impressed, with one even screaming, “TWELVE KILLS? DAMN, FRUIT!”

Fruit laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “Will it be too much to hope for a similar performance in the Championship?”

“False tied for second place with three kills and Ren tied for fourth with two kills? LET’S GOOO!” H roared, hugging his teammates despite all of them being sweaty.

“Well dudes, I guess we’ve done our best to train our PvP skills! I feel like the only thing we haven’t really practiced is working together as a team,” Ren admitted. “I think to make it smooth on the day, we definitely need one person to take the lead.” His blue eyes scanned the other three. “I’m happy to take orders, so, y’know.”

H laughed. “Well, you guys did turn me into Hmom. I can take the lead.”

Ren slapped his thigh. “Oooh yeah baby, Hmamma take the wheel!” he howled. 

Fruit thoughtfully tapped on his chin. “For real, I think we can do some group based training. Gimme a second, I can come up with something for us…”

The second practice session ended up becoming way more intense than the first one due to actual, practical PvP instead of 1v1 duels, but the Blue Bats’ efforts were not in vain. Although they were physically exhausted, they were more determined to do well than ever. Even after their group practice sessions, they actually practiced daily, with Ren bumping into Martyn and Jimmy at the main campus one afternoon. The Blue Bats were truly on fire, and they wanted to do good. They needed to do good.

The day before the 9th Championship, H took his fellow Bats to the school’s studio to get their Bat uniforms. He introduced them to Rose, who was a tailor that made a lot of H’s clothes.

“These are so good!” H gushed on and on, gesturing to the uniforms on mannequins. Every member had a white and blue team jacket, and just like the Yaks in the 8th Championship, there was a letter on each backside that spelled out “BATS”. There were also little plastic blue bat ears for every member to wear.

“Awww, this is cute.” Ren poked the bat ears, a fond grin on his face. “Hey Falsie! Here are some blue goggles for you!”

“Nice,” False cheered, and nodded towards Rose. “Really appreciate the attention to detail!”

“Hey Fruit, imagine you dye your hair blue for this,” H joked, ruffling Fruit’s hair. Fruit chuckled.

“Nah, lime is practically my brand now. Maybe I should ask Mr. Major to only put me in lime teams from now on.”

After exchanging jokes about how their jackets made them look like a biker gang, they prepared to go home. The day they had worked so hard for was tomorrow, and they couldn’t help but be a little nervous.

“Just to be clear,” H said with a reassuring smile. “I want you guys to do good, but more importantly, I want you guys to have a good time. Give it your best!”

“We’re not getting ninth anymore, dudes!” Ren broadly grinned.

“Gotta sleep early tonight,” False quipped. “Big day ahead!”

Ren laughed. “Oh man, I dunno if I can sleep though, I’m so excited!” 

“Go to bed or I’ll knock you out, you bunch of knuckleheads,” H mockingly threatened. He nodded towards Fruit. “Especially you.”

“Fiiiinee.”

The Blue Bats didn’t know what tomorrow would bring for them, but they believed in their team. 

Maybe MCC Reddit didn’t believe in them. Maybe Stan Twitt didn’t. Maybe the majority of the Championship audience dismissed them. Maybe they believed that they were some random 6th place team. That the hermits would drag H and Fruit down so much they couldn't even get the top half. That the hermit team would be a disappointment as always. 

Because after all, they thought with a derisive laugh, what could the underdogs do? 

You’ll be surprised.

Chapter Text

September 12th. The 9th Championship. Their time had finally come.

The Blue Bats stood in a row on the stairs leading to the Decision Dome, their backs facing the crowd. The bright blue “BATS” on their jackets signalled to everyone that they. Meant. Business.

(Granted, it had been a bit difficult to assemble them all. Fruit had something to do earlier, so they were “BTS” for a while, and H jokingly declared they were a Kpop boys band. But anyways, they were all together now.)

The hermits had outdone their cheering for the 9th Championship. They had built a gigantic glowing sign that flashed between “BLUE BATS'' and “PINK PARROTS”, and each member of 3-H was decked out in blue and pink gear. Iskall even wore a cheerleader miniskirt, which was met with roaring approval from the hermits. To complete his look, he wore a wig with two pigtails fastened with blue and pink ribbons. 

“Hermitcraft Represent!” Cub called from the sides. “We’re all with you!”

“Go False! Go Ren!” Mumbo cheered from above, his face splattered with blue face paint. “And Grian, I guess,” he added as an afterthought. 

Grian couldn’t hear Mumbo because he was preoccupied with talking to the cameras about raising money. The rest of the Parrots, who were Martyn, Jimmy, and Joel, chatted next to Grian. Loud British gasping and chuckling could be heard from their little corner. 

“Awww, Grian looks cute in his little pink outfit,” Ren mentioned. “He’s adorable.”

“It’s kinda sad seeing him being the only hermit on the other team,” False admitted. “That’s why I always play with the hermits.”

“Well, I feel he’s more saddened by not playing with Fruity.”

“Ooooh, look, it’s our favourite team!!”

The Bats turned to see Cherry Twitt and Herman Blur hurry towards them with wide grins. Both were appropriately dressed for the occasion— Cherry had a blue shirt with a cherry and a bomb on it, while Herman had fake blue bat wings on their back. “Sup Cherry! Sup Herman!” H greeted them.

“Blue Bats Supremacy!!” Cherry Twitt whooped. “I don’t care what everyone else think, you guys are the best team.”

“You’re totally winning,” Herman assured them. “And it’s so exciting to see our hermits with 3-A PvPers! Can't wait to see how this plays out!”

False patted Herman’s back. “Thanks for the support! We need the hype and positivity to go on! Also, really appreciate the fanart you made of us.”

Herman waved an arm. “No problem! You guys are just really wholesome.”

With the clock ticking, the Bats started to sober up. Fortunately, they had all managed to catch some sleep last night (“I had to use a scented candle to sleep.” “Thanks for the input, Ren.”). H and Fruit even spent an hour or so practicing together before the Championship. They were in prime condition and to use Ren’s words, ready to kick some butt!

“Which team is Reddit predicting as first?” Ren asked curiously.

“Uhhh, I think Lime’s a popular choice,” H replied. “Lime has Dream, and Fundy’s really good. Tubbo’s new, but they think he’ll perform well. Sylvee has worked with them before, so chemistry isn’t a problem.”

“Chemistry doesn’t mean synergy though,” False mentioned, recalling how her Yellow Yaks did at the 8th Championship. 

Fruit shrugged. “True. But I like to think we have both.”

“Pete’s team is also looking pretty good,” H mentioned. “Not to mention Techno and Calvin on Aqua. And Green Guardians as well. I— you know, I kinda understand why they put us as 6th. The teams are really good this time.”

“I checked and a couple of them actually put us at 3rd or 2nd,” False offered. “They’re saying this Championship is gonna be unpredictable because there are a lot of good teams.”

“Let’s go! We’ve got to exceed their expectations!” Ren cried out.

“I bet Stan wants Lime to win,” False stated darkly. “Or maybe Green. But whatever. We’ve got Herman Blur and Cherry Twitt on our side. Stan Twitt, we’re coming for ya!” She exclaimed.

“Sooo, you guys ready to kick some booty?” H asked.

False glanced at H, and gulped nervously. “Uhh, maybe? I think so—“

H snorted and wagged a finger in front of False’s face. “No no no, not you think, you know.”

False laughed. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready. That’s all I need.”

“Well, I mean you’ll be ready in ten minutes, but you’ll be ready ten minutes earlier than that.”

False raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, fineee, I’m ready now then.”

H patted her shoulder with a proud grin. “Attagirl.”

“Well, hopefully we won’t be there.” False gestured at the leaderboard, which was currently displaying teams according to colour order, and Blue Bats was in eighth place. “Hopefully we’ll be at least fourth, but that’s a lot of pressure. Buuut… we’ll see how it goes!”

“Just do the best that you can, and we’ll do the best that we can,” Fruit replied.

“Yeahh, that’s how we roll,” Ren chimed in.

“Can you believe in two and a half hours, we’ll be competing in Dodgebolt?” H confidently said. 

Fruit raised his eyebrows. “Wowwww.”

“I can’t either,” H chuckled. 

False giggled nervously. “No pressure.”

“There’s zero pressure, let’s go! We win these!”

False nudged H. “I love how you think that saying no pressure means that there’s no pressure. I love that, it’s great.”

“Yeah, you just gotta talk things into existence!”

The Bats continued to flex on top of the stairs, with False thinking if other participants also had letters on their backs, they could spell out different words. Pearl, with the OF Optifine cape on her back, came forward and started to play around with the Bats.

“We’re BOFTS,” False said, amused. “Dunno what that means.”

“Pearl, get outta here!” H boomed. 

Ren sighed melodramatically. “That PearlescentMoon, gotta tell you, what a troublemaker.”

“We practiced together on the parkour course!” Pearl insisted. “Don’t be so mean!”

They also attracted the attention of Martyn, who stood in False’s spot, once again trying to disrupt the BATS. Martyn and Ren eagerly chatted— apparently they had a conversation going on when they met each other during practice. Soon Martyn returned to his team, but not without screaming “DON’T BE A DOG, BE A GOD!” to Ren.

“We’re like the Blue Angels!” H excitedly cried out, referring to the blue wings on the backs of their jackets. 

“Why can’t we be called the Aqua Angels?” Fruit laughed, turning to get a look at his jacket. 

“Can we put in a request for a rename? It sounds like a team name for some sort of Christmas championship though,” Ren replied.

“If we don’t get Aqua Angels I’m not joining that Championship,” H declared. “Imagine something like Teal Tinsel. Or Brown Black Cats for Halloween. Those are horrid names.”

“Well,” Ren knowingly chuckled. “Brown Black Cats does abbreviate to BBC—“

False caught sight of a familiar figure. Wilbur was once again standing behind her. “Ohh, it’s Wilbutt again,” False sighed. “Why is it always me? It was me last time!”

“I’m doing the thing I do, which is to specifically block a letter in your jerseys,” Wilbur informed False in a serious tone while he was dressed in his L’Manberg outfit. He towered over False, and she sighed in exasperation. 

Philza, Wilbur’s teammate, exhaled and massaged his forehead. “I was thinking you would do that.”

“Aww look, he’s specifically trolling you,” H chuckled. 

The rest of Wilbur’s team, the Red Rabbits, crowded around the Bats, cheering. “You’re Team BAS!” “Ah yes, Team BAS, my favourite team.”

“Go to someone else!” False cried out. She turned to her teammates. “We call him Wilbutt over here, because he’s a butt.”

“I may be a butt, but you’re gonna be Team BS,” Wilbur snarked. He gestured for Tommy. “Cover them up! Make them BS!”

So Tommy and Wilbur stood in front of False and Fruit, covering up their letters and making them Team BS.

“TEAM BS!” Tommy roared in delight, while H and Ren could just stare at the chaotic main campus students standing between them.

“That is so rude!” False gasped, turning around, but Wilbur was already distracted by the Yellow Yaks who were standing in a row in front of them.

“Look at them trying to steal our thunder over here,” Ren snarked at the Yellow Yaks. He peered at the letters on the Yaks’ backs. “What is that? QMMM?”

The Bats puzzled over the QMMM letters, and wondered why they didn't spell out Yaks like the hermit team had done last time. 

“It’s because of our names, dude!” Quig told the Bats a little crossly.

“Well I mean, it’s cute, but it’s wrong!” Ren burst out. 

“RUDE!”

“It is wrong!” H agreed. “Why aren’t they Yaks?”

Fruit laughed. “They’re just, qmmmmmmm.”

Amidst the bantering and laughter, the countdown started, and all the participants roared in excitement. All heads were turned towards the giant countdown timer. Music started blasting from the speakers. “It’s showtime!” Ren hollered.

“Also False,” H called out to her, “A heads up: I’ll be saying ‘boys’ a lot. I’ve been on three straight teams with boys.”

False shrugged. “Not a problem.” Considering her class was 85% male, she was used to it. 

H just laughed. “I’ll do my best not to, but—“

“LET’S GO BOYS!” False suddenly whooped, surprisingly H. She turned to him. “Maybe I have to say it, since it only makes sense if I say it.”

“TRUE!” H looked very pleased. “You can call us the bois!”

“I just call everyone the boys,” Fruit laughed. 

“I do too!”

“Like even if I’m on a team of girls, I’ll still say let’s go boys!”

“Let’s go girls!” H called out, testing the phrase. “Let’s do it!”

“It doesn’t roll off the tongue,” Fruit pointed out. “Boys are easier to say than girls.”

But with the countdown clock reminding them of the Championship, their conversation quickly shifted to more serious matters.

“Where are you guys finishing today?” H asked. “Fruit’s number one, I’m calling… number seven? False and Ren…”

“Number two!” Fruit replied optimistically.

False frowned at the leaderboards. “I have no idea where I’ve ever been, so… I can’t even hazard a guess. By the way, where’s Ren?”

The Bats suddenly realized Ren had been absent from their conversation for some time, and they spun to see him running towards them. 

“Hey dudes!” Ren exclaimed. “I’ve been mentally preparing, I’ve been physically preparing, I’ve been doing push-ups—“

“Push-ups! Let’s go! You’re jacked!” H exclaimed.

“Push-ups?!” False said incredulously. “Dude!”

“... I imagine doing push-ups,” Ren admitted sheepishly. “Does that count?”

False hummed. “Yeah. Sure. Of course.”

“NO!” H burst out, half-mad. He furiously gestured at Ren. “What are you guys saying?! Get on the floor, Ren!”

“Get on the floor!” Ren cheered. “Gimme twenty!” To prove his point, he actually started doing push-ups on the floor and Fruit began to count. Surrounding participants clapped and cheered even though they were confused. The Championship craziness was just starting, and everyone was enjoying themselves. 

After Ren’s push-ups, H helped him up and said, “The number one rule here is look good, feel good, play good. Do you feel good?”

Ren dramatically tossed his hair. “I feel good, and I look amazing,” he said with the confidence of a thousand suns.

“Then we’re gonna play amazing, let’s gooo!” 

“HMAMA TAKE THE WHEEL!” Ren screamed. 

“Hmom94 reporting for duty!” H whooped. 

“I do love the Purple Pandas’ outfits,” Ren gushed. “Look, they’re in panda onesies. It’s adorable!”

False turned to see. “They are! They’re showing us up this time.”

“That’s cool,” Ren said at the same time False said “that’s plain rude.”

Thirty seconds left. Nervousness started to evaporate and was replaced by excitement. After all, no matter what happened, the Championships were awesome to be in. Fireworks erupted from the Decision Dome, and laser beams shot through the sky. The Bats stared at the clock, fascinated and hyped. 

“Here we go!” Ren whooped. “This is like one of my favourite parts of the whole thing. It’s just so epic.”

Rainbow fireworks loudly went off, and everybody felt the vibrations through their bodies. “BOOM!” Ren cheered, echoing the boom of the fireworks a few seconds earlier. 

“Fifteen seconds!” H screamed. “This is when we get in there! IT’S CHAMPIONSHIP TIME!”

“LET’S GOOOO DUDES!”

“The best time of the month!”

“It is the best time of the month!” Ren passionately agreed. “The only time of the month!”

“There’s no other time than this. And right now?” H linked his arms with his Bats, their faces painted colourful by the firework lights. “This is our time.”

The horn sounded, and they gleefully ran inside the Decision Dome, laughing and screaming all the way.

“Alright, here we go!” Ren cheered once they were inside the Decision Dome.

“I’M SO READY FOR THIS, LET’S GO!” H screamed.

“I’m so hyped, dudes! This is going to be so much fun.” Ren warmly smiled at the other three. “And guys, can I just say it’s been an absolute honour to go to battle with you three?”

“Going to battle?” Fruit laughed. “That sounds kinda serious, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but well, it does sorta feel like a battle to us,” False confessed, her eyes scanning across the other teams made out of main campus students. “We’ve suffered so much. This is our battle against Stan Twitt.” 

“And I’ve had such an amazing time meeting you and getting ready for this,” Ren swiftly added. “You’re all awesome.”

“HELL YEAH, REN!” H boomed. “Let’s get it!”

“Let’s do it!”

They stared at the selection of games coming in, with HBomb jokingly declaring he hated the Championship when Bingo wasn’t the last choice. When Sands of Time rolled in, H stated that if that was the last game chosen, they would get to Dodgebolt. 

H turned to the group. “Which one do we want?”

“Well Hmamma, you got the wheel,” Ren said decisively. “You choose. I’m just gonna follow your lead.”

H took a deep breath. His Bats were relying on him, and as the leader H wasn’t going to let them down. “We’re going to wait till everyone throws and we’ll decide then.”

“Alright.” “Sounds good.”

Sky Battle was a popular choice due to it being new. Everyone wanted to get rid of it first. So the Bats also gave Sky Battle their votes, and predictably it was chosen. 

This was their first game. It was a PvP game that no one had played before. Many other players were feeling a little nervous due to not being familiar with this game. But H turned to his teammates, and smirked.  

“Fruit, you ready to bridge superfast?”

The Championship participants stared at the Sky Battle arena. It was supposedly an improved version of Skyblockle, but there were some fundamental differences. Chests and brewing stands laid scattered on the outer islands, with the central island being the shape of a donut. Red lasers marked out the border for this game. Each person had ropes to help them cross to the islands without falling off and landing on the trampoline known as “the Void”. If they did, they would be eliminated. There would be three rounds of Sky Battle, so it wasn’t like one round could determine your fate (unlike the Bat’s most feared Survival Games).

“What do you wanna do in Round One?” Fruit asked H.

“I want you to go immediately for the donut,” H confidently told him. “We wanna get those two chests there and see what’s inside them before the other teams do. Fruit, I want you to go there immediately for the first round, then we’ll adapt. We’ll figure out what’s going on after that.” The rest of the Bats nodded, understanding. 

H quickly assigned roles to his team. “Uhh, I’ll follow Fruit. False, you go to wherever the other chests are, and Ren, you loot the middle of our starting island.”

“Okay.” Ren looked eager to follow H’s orders. 

“They’re gonna provide us with as many ropes as we want so… Fruit can do whatever the heck he wants,” H laughed.

Ren clapped his hands. “Let’s goooo Fruityloops! You’re gonna pop off in this arena.”

“This game is his playground,” H agreed. Now, they were finally allowed to climb up their starting island and observe which teams were next to them. The so-called donut, the middle part of the arena loomed imposingly in front of them, suddenly seeming more terrifying than it really was. 

H looked to either side of his team’s island. “We got Orange to the left and Pink to the right,” he told everyone. 

“... I mean, I’ll rather go for Pink,” Fruit said after a second of deliberation. (H appreciated him using that phrase instead of saying “Pink has bad players”. It didn’t feel right to say that.)

“Yup, let’s go for Grian! Let’s go for a fellow hermit!” Ren replied almost cheerfully. 

“Oh no,” False chuckled. “Bye Grian. I bet he’s gonna be super sad if Fruit kills him.”

The countdown started, and H quickly amended his strategy. “I’ll still follow Fruit. Ren, False, you guys can bridge to the right island and go for your fellow hermit.”

“Alright!”

When the game started, Fruit leapt into action— literally. Blue rope in hand, he jumped towards the right island and connected the two islands. He then made his way towards the middle as he was told to, with H following him. 

Pink had also apparently decided to go for Blue (due to having hermits, because the hermits loved going after each other). Pink was tentatively trying to bridge, but False started slashing their ropes. 

“You can break the ropes?” Joel, a member of Pink Parrots, asked incredulously. “Stop it, False!”

False and Joel then engaged in a rather polite battle of trying to bridge/ destroying the bridge. Neither of them dared to jump and attack the other. (Probably because they knew they were from 3-GH and not very strong, PvP-wise.)

“I’m keeping Pink away!” False called out to the other Bats. 

Joel eventually gave up, and started bridging in the other direction. Grian stared at the slashed pink ropes between his island and the Bats, and False’s back was coincidentally turned. Heart in his throat, Grian tried to sneak up and go for False, but she turned around and caught him.

“Aha!” False triumphantly declared, her sword glinting. “It’s not that easy, Grian!”

“Aww!” Grian groaned. He was still figuring out a way to get False when a piercing scream interrupted his train of thought. “AAAAA! I’m in trouble!” Martyn screeched.

Grian instantly bounced away from False, eager to save his friend. “OKAY, I’M COMING!” he yelled back. 

With Pink all going in one direction, False didn’t need to defend herself from Pink. She hurried towards her Bats. Her hands grabbed onto the blue ropes Fruit had placed, and she swung herself up to the next island. H was calling out names he’d landed shots on, while Fruit started to list out the loot he’d gotten. Ren was setting up makeshift rope walls to protect themselves.

“Alright, this is our area,” H declared as he surveyed the little island they were on. “Don’t let anyone else up here.”

A pellet smacked into H’s chestplate, and he winced. “Ouch, I just took a lot of health there.”

“Purple Pandas have all been eliminated!” The Championship Commentator’s voice boomed into their earpieces, stunning everyone. 

“Purple is all dead already?” Fruit said incredulously.

“Let’s go!” H enthusiastically replied. Saying that phrase was almost automatic by now.

“Ahh, I got hit!” False cried out, stumbling backwards onto H. H grabbed her shoulder and stabilized her. H glanced up. “I think Orange’s above us.” He was right, but eliminations were coming in quickly and there was so much to focus on.

“I have a gun but no pellets,” False told them, her eyes darting across the arena.

“My bad, I used them all,” H panted. “I should’ve saved them.”

False started preparing to bridge to the middle, but Orange was staring down at them like vultures. H shivered. “Get prepared for them to drop down any second,” he ordered. 

But when they didn’t, the Bats deduced Orange was also going to the middle, so the Bats tentatively started bridging again. H kept an eye out for Orange and didn’t move much, until his health abruptly started lowering. He leapt, surprised. 

“Watch out for the border, H!” False cried out. She yanked on H’s arm and dragged him to safety.

“Ah, thanks.” With one last anxious look at Orange, the Bats made their way to the middle of the arena. 

“I’m watching above. I’ll call out if they’re gonna jump down.” H protectively stood in front of his Bats.

They successfully infiltrated the middle, with Fruit leading the way. They bumped into Cyan and the Bats started to throw their “TNT” (which were just water balloons). In a confusing mess of water and screams, Ren got Jordan, and Fruit got Puffy. 

“Cyan Creepers have all been eliminated!” The Championship Commentator exclaimed joyously, and H couldn’t stop his proud smiles. “Let’s go—“

H turned, but his Bats weren’t there. The red border was getting dangerously close and H had no choice but to jump down, thus separating himself from the Bats.

“Are you guys okay?” H demanded through the intercoms. “I’m not with you guys.”

“All three of us are together,” Fruit replied. “Uhhh… think we’re doing fine?”

Fruit, Ren, and False were almost directly above H, with Fruit expertly creating rope bridges. From below, H was doing his best to survive. The border was coming from all sides and it was threatening them more and more. 

People were yelling and H could barely hear his teammates, but he did see Fruit knock Dream and Sylvee off. Two more kills for the Bats. H looked up, Fruit looked down, and the two separate blue rope bridges connected. H exhaled in relief and he grabbed onto Ren. The Bats were together again.

“The border’s coming down!” False shrieked, calling out to Fruit who was still above them. Out of everyone, False seemed to be most conscious of the border, which was a good thing. The border was easily overlooked but rather important. “Get down, Fruit!”

Players were dropping like flies, and the Commentator had to rush their words to announce the eliminations in time. Beads of sweat dripped from H’s forehead. This round was coming to an end, and right now anything could happen.

“Techno’s coming over!” False announced. Techno pounced on False, and normally she would’ve backed away, but her training had led to her being braver. She dueled with Techno for a while before H and Fruit came over to support her. Fruit’s sword hit Techno, Techno was knocked into the Void, and then—

“Round over! Blue Bats win!” The Commentator gleefully announced.

“WHAT?!” H bellowed, clutching his sweaty teammates. Everyone had confused yet ecstatic looks on their faces.

“We WON?!”

“WOOHOO!”

“BOOM, BABEY!”

“And we didn’t even lose a player!” Fruit screeched, jumping up and down. “We didn’t even lose a player!”

“LET’S GOOOO!” H screamed for everyone to hear. “I did nothing and I’m proud of that! Let’s go, guys!”

“Hoooly goodness,” Ren exhaled, shaking. “I didn’t even know what we did, but we did great!”

“I think I touched one person during the whole round, and it was Fruit. I did nothing!” H proudly declared. “You’re carrying me! I like this!”

And indeed he was! H had been trying so long to convince his Bats that they were amazing, and now proof was shoved into their faces. H barely had to do anything. His Bats were so capable.

Unfortunately for the second round, they didn’t do as well. H was killed early in the game, and the other three followed H’s advice to target Pink. Hilariously, Fruit managed to kill Grian, who just gasped at Fruit. Tommy swiftly killed Fruit, then Ren and False duelled Dang, who was on Tommy’s team, but they were both eliminated. 

“Aww, man.” The Bats were naturally dejected, but H stubbornly cheered them up. “We still won one round,” he insisted.

They tinkered on their strategy, and they eagerly waited for the third round to begin. However, Ren was quickly eliminated when he split from the group to fetch something.

“Sorry! Jerome got me!” Ren yelped as he fell into the Void.

“Ren, stick with us,” H reminded him. As obvious as it sounded, it was important to play as a team during team games.

“It’s okay, we can win this,” Fruit told everyone while the remaining three Bats geared up.

They decided to charge towards Purple and fight, with Fruit laughing, “I don’t take damage!” False gleefully shot SB, and Fruit and H took care of Jerome and Gizzy. And as quickly as that, the Bats got three more kills.

Ren gave them updates on their enemies’ positions as the rest of the Bats hurried to the middle. A commotion to their left caught their attention, and the Bats turned to see Aqua and Lime furiously fighting. “Oh my goodness, there’s a massive battle!” Ren gasped.

Bloodlust roared in H’s veins. He and his team could clean. This was such a good opportunity. “Go go GO GO!” he yelled as he charged towards the fight, sword raised. Fruit and False followed in his footsteps. 

Fruit killed Dream (again!), and was trying to go for Fundy (who was stuck). H leapt and came face to face with Technoblade. Techno raised his sword and knocked H down. H lost his balance, and the familiar feeling of vertigo consumed him—

Then he tossed out his blue rope and managed to swing himself up to the island again. “Ohh, nice save, H!” Ren screamed as H brought himself to safety and breathed to calm himself down. 

“Techno’s dead!” Fruit cheered from above, having killed him again. “Everyone, meet up!”

H’s health was dangerously low as he climbed up the ladder to reunite with False and Fruit.

“Orange’s going to the middle,” Ren announced. Orange Ocelots, which consisted of Pearl, SeaPeeKay, Shubble and Tapl, were working their way towards the middle. Their full team was alive, unlike the Blue Bats who were only at ¾ of their strength.

False was suddenly shot by Orange mid-sentence, a reminder that the other team had bullets. H and Fruit exchanged determined glances. It was up to them now. 

“Fruit, waddya wanna do?” H hissed urgently. 

“Uhh, maybe bridge—“

H glanced to the right, where the only surviving member of Green was. “Uhh, we can get Sapnap? It’s just him on Green.”

But they quickly ditched the idea when Orange started shooting Sapnap. “He’s out,” Ren called. The Bats had no choice but to go to the middle and meet up with Orange, who was still at their full strength. “Now we just gotta survive, and we’re doing good,” H declared. 

It was a 4v2, and the odds were not in the Bats’ favour. Ren told them Pearl had a crossbow, Fruit started thinking of a plan, and False frantically reminded everyone of the border. Everyone had something to say and something to contribute to the group. H’s heart pounded. 

“It’s us versus them. Do whatever you want,” H told Fruit, giving him full freedom. Fruit nodded and smiled grimly.

“Alright, I’m gonna jump over and TNT them,” Fruit muttered. “Let’s do it,” was H’s reply. H was leaping left and right as he tried to avoid border damage. He watched as Fruit jumped—

And missed and fell down.

Crap.

“Oh no!” Fruit cried out as he was eliminated.

“Fruitberries was knocked into the Void by PearlescentMoon!” came the Commentator’s voice.

“Ahh, I’m dead,” H said grimly as he continued to hop around. There was no avoiding the border, and his health bar was rapidly decreasing. “Yup, you’re dead,” False laughed. H’s health went to zero, and the game ended.

“Round over! Orange Ocelots win!” The Commentator announced, and H wiped sweat off his face. Orange cheered and high-fived each other. H peered at the team rankings. “GG! We did well! We came third!”

“Yeah, that’s good,” False agreed. “GG!”

“First game and we’re third!” H whooped. “And PvP’s not our expertise either.” The individual leaderboards popped up, and everyone oohed. “LOOK AT FRUITBERRIES!” H screamed, shaking Fruit’s shoulders. “You’re number three!”

“Let’s goooo, Fruityloops!”

H inspected the leaderboard more closely, and grinned broadly. False had placed higher than him! “False with the carry as well! I did nothing!”

False just laughed. “Yeah, I got SB, so I’m happy.”

“I killed Captain Sparklez, so I’m very happy,” Ren chimed in. 

The hermits did look very pleased they managed to kill some main campus students, and H’s heart was filled with pride. 

“You know for a new game, that was rather balanced!” Ren said as the Bats walked back to the Decision Dome. “Every team had a good chance there?”

“Yup.” “True, true.” The other Bats were quick to agree.

“Y’know In the previous version, only teams who knew what they’re doing got any points, and the rest just got zero? So, Noxcrew did a good job on this one.”

“Yup.” H took a sip from his water bottle. “And to think we did pretty good at a new PvP game! I have a seriously good feeling about this Championship.”

False chuckled. “Yeah, let’s just hope Survival Games isn’t chosen.”

Fruit stared at the selection of games rolling in. Killing Techno and Dream was definitely awesome, but it was sort of expected because he was their “sensei”. Fruit hoped he could keep his performance up.

“Alright!” Ren rubbed his palms together. “What now, Hmamma?”

“I just see what the other people vote for, and I’m like, okay I don’t want that or I want that. So let them vote first.”

“You know what’s good, Falsie?” Ren piped up with a smile. “For the first time I think we feel confident in these games! Except for maybe Hole in the Wall.”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” False swiftly agreed, sharing Ren’s smile. “We’re getting better, dudes!”

H stared intensely at the selection of games. “I want to save Sands of Time for later. We’ll win if we get that late-game.”

People started voting, and currently the two most popular choices were Battle Box and To Get To The Other Side. “Which one do you wanna do?” H asked.

“Uhhh, let’s do To Get To The Other Side,” Fruit suggested, knowing that was one of his specialties. In accordance, the Bats voted for TGTTOS.

“Alright! What we’re all gonna do is all go to one side, and then everyone go on the same bridge.” Fruit, as the movements expert in the group, gave everyone advice. 

TGTTOS won over the detested Parkour Warrior by one vote, and the Bats shivered. “That was really close,” Ren admitted. “But anyways, back to the game. So Fruity, we’re all following you, right?”

“When it comes to the rope bridges,” Fruit said. “But uh, obviously not this round.”

The Blue Bats followed the other participants to the ice boat course. False’s eyes widened, vaguely recognizing the course.

“Ren, you built one of these!” False exclaimed, referencing Ren’s Speedy Pines. “You should be good at this, right?”

Ren laughed. “I did build an ice race, but that was ages ago.”

“Last time I think I jumped into Dream’s boat and he took me there,” False laughed.

Ren glanced at her. “Wasn’t that Technoblade?”

False shrugged. “Oh, yeah, it was Techno. Can’t remember Dream very well, sorry. But we’re not allowed to do that now, since we’ll be disqualified.”

The first round of TGTTOS started, and naturally so did chaos. A flurry of players tried to get on their boats, and did their best to zoom past each other. “Fundy, get outta my way!” False cried out while Fruit complained about how slow people were.

“Grian, get outta my way!” False crossly nudged Grian, who happened to also be hopping across the ice.

“Excuse me?!” Grian looked scandalised, but a sunny grin quickly came on his face when Fruit went past. “Hi Fruity B! Was an honour to be killed by you earlier!”

But Fruit then unexpectedly fell off the ice road, and had to make his way back to the beginning. As he mumbled about his misfortune, a sudden tap on his shoulder surprised him. It was False.

“Dude, I literally followed you the way down,” False laughed, who made the same mistake Fruit did. False and Fruit went on the ice road together, and started again. 

“I got 10th!” H announced through the intercoms while everyone else was still struggling. 

“Aww, I’m gonna get last, I’m sure of it,” came False’s voice from behind Fruit.

“Don’t worry, there’s still people way behind you,” H told her. 

“Okay, good!”

The Bats got seventh for that round, but they weren’t discouraged. “Alright, that was a little warm up on the ice,” Ren said, fully aware of the irony in his sentence. 

“True, let’s go, we got that one out of the way,” H immediately replied. 

“Well,” Fruit laughed to conceal his pain of failing. He was supposed to be good at this! “That was not… pleasant for me.”

The participants were led to the next round, which was nicknamed the “trident” course for whatever reason. Players would be propelled into the air and shot through holes. The tricky part was that the players had to control which direction and angle they would be propelled. It was a classic TGTTOS game, but it was difficult.

“I don’t like this one,” H bluntly stated.

“Ohh no, this one’s my worst,” False chuckled nervously. 

“Take your time for the last jump,” H advised. 

Fruit added, “Go from section to section.”

“Everyone’s gonna fail at this, so even if you’re a little behind, it’s not a big deal,” H reassured his teammates. 

Fruit was doing fairly well until he got to the last bit and didn’t realize there was a jump. “Nooooo!” he cried out as he fell down and missed the final platform. “I could’ve gotten second… now I’m gonna get last.”

False ended up getting 6th, and she threw her hands in the air. “Dude! I did it for the first time ever!” she cheered. “That was so smooth!”

“Let’s gooo, Falsie!” H screamed, having adopted Ren’s nickname for her. 

“YESSSS!” False was ecstatic. “I usually don’t finish— oh hey, Fruit!”

Fruit was approaching the final jump again, and he landed on the edge without an inch to spare. Panting, he stumbled towards the nearest fan (an electronic fan, not an actual person) and smacked it. “I got 18th. That was good.”

H sighed as he missed another jump and had to go to the beginning. “Ugh, I’m so bad at this.”

“Yess! I’m through!” Ren gasped, who’d just came in 26th. 

H stood in one of the holes. This time, he’d managed to get one that would allow him to jump to the final platforms. “You can jump from there, H—“

Spifey crashed-landed into H and sent both of them flying. Fruit yanked on his hair, anxious for H. “Ohhhhh noooo!” Fruit whined.

Thankfully, H clutched and managed to come 29th with literally five seconds to spare. “Okay, okay, a lot of people aren’t finishing that,” he panted. 

“That was terrifying,” Fruit gasped, clutching his heart. He threw his arms around H, hugging him. “Spifey just crashed into you!”

The second round of TGTTOS concluded, and the Blue Bats reckoned they did pretty good. They even moved up from seventh to sixth.

“One of the top teams didn’t finish,” Fruit noted, pointing out Tubbo and Sylvee who didn’t manage to complete the course. 

“Yup, that’s huge,” H echoed.

Once Fruit saw the third course, he instantly knew what to do. It was bridging, his speciality. “Okay, so this one, we either go to the left or to the right— let’s go to the right,” Fruit decided. “Everyone to the right, I’m gonna make a bridge. Just follow me.”

The rest of the Bats obediently trailed after Fruit, preparing to literally follow in his footsteps once the round started.

“Hopefully I don’t choke,” Fruit laughed. “If I fall, someone continue the bridge.”

The round started, and Fruit zoomed off like he was built to do this (maybe he was). Fruit got knocked off in the last section, but he managed to swing his rope around a hook and was slowly making his way up. “Everyone, follow the path I made!”

“I got 2nd!” H cried in delight.

“I’m choking,” Fruit sighed. But still, he and the Bats managed to finish quickly. That round was concluded swiftly due to it being easier than the previous two ones. The Bats passed around water bottles as they watched other teams finish the course.

“Okay, that wasn’t that bad,” Fruit offered. “Let’s go!”

The fourth one was about falling from a height and bouncing off platforms to get to the other side. Once again, participants were allowed to bridge. So Fruit speedily set off, using his rope to swing him to the platforms. 

“1st place, boys!” Fruit whooped in joy as he went all the way to the end with no mishaps. He was finally doing as well as he expected himself to. 

H came soon after him. “Let’s go, 4th place!”

Many players were bustling around False, and she struggled as not to fall. Her hands clutched her blue rope desperately. “You can jump now, False!” H said helpfully. “You have enough height!”

“I know, I was just trying to get safe first!”

… False always liked to play safe. Fruit had noticed that some time ago. And while it paid off in team games (she was the one who kept the closest eye on the border in Sky Battle), a split second hesitation could cost her in individual games. 

False ended up in 24th, and Fruit turned his attention to Ren, who was cautiously making his own bridges. Like False, he clung onto his rope and nervously stared at the platforms below him. Maybe it was a hermit thing?

“You can just jump! Take a leap of faith!” Fruit advised him, echoing H’s encouragement to False from earlier. “Follow existing paths!”

Ren was a little hesitant, but he did as he was told and got 32nd. He didn’t confidently leap from platform to platform like Fruit did; instead he spent a few seconds to prepare himself for each jump. Each move was calculated as Ren didn’t want to risk it. This was different from Fruit, who tended to breeze his way through courses by ad-libbing. 

“Nice, nice,” H patted Ren’s shoulder. “Four courses done. Two courses left.”

“By the way, guys? I think you can be a little braver,” Fruit suggested almost timidly. False and Ren turned to look at him. “Like, sometimes you can just jump. You won’t fall, I promise you.”

But before the hermits could reply, the next course came into view. “Ohhh, what is this?” Fruit asked. He squinted at the platform and wracked his brains for an answer.

False recognised it almost immediately. “Ohh, it’s the zipline one.”

There was a little confusion with the tactics, but in the end, H got 13th, Fruit 19th, and False came in quickly at 21st. 

“Nice!” Fruit cried out. “I came in 19th, and you came in 21st, soo…”

“You did better than half of these people, let’s go!” H whooped.

Fruit swiftly turned his attention to Ren, who was in the middle part of the course. “So Ren, go up as high as you can,” Fruit instructed through the intercoms. “Grab onto the nearest zip line and you’ll make it to the end.”

“Okay. Okay.” Ren scrambled up a leader, and leapt. He sailed smoothly across three-quarters of the course, landed, and smacked a fan.

“THAT’S HUGE, REN!” H called out in excitement. “That was nice! That was really nice!”

Ren snorted. “I guess using ziplines on 3-H really pays off!”

“Wait.” Fruit scanned the area. He recognized some familiar faces, then gasped. “Pete didn’t finish? Am I reading this correctly?”

“What’s going on with Cyan?” H cried out, dismayed, as the clock counted down. “Are they okay?”

“Pete just took a nosedive at the end,” Fruit said, pitying his fellow Green God. “Aww, man.”

The round ended, H scanned the leaderboard once again. “Tubbo didn’t finish, and his team’s in second. That’s huge.”

“All of us have managed to complete every round so far,” Fruit pointed out. “So I’ll say we’re doing pretty good.”

The final course was the one known as “Walls”, which had mud and other stuff to slow you down. H remarked people usually did good on this one, so he didn’t know what to do this time. Fruit originally wanted to follow his usual strategy of going to one side, but decided to yolo and make a bridge in the middle. Fruit swiftly moved, his movements never faltering, and got 3rd. H got 17th, then False and Ren finished in 24th and 25th.

“Let’s go! We did good!” H told everyone. Ren and False leaned on each other to catch their breaths, and H passed them their water bottles. 

“Not bad, not bad,” False panted.

“That was the second event, right?” Ren piped up. “So it’s not too bad on the multiplier, yeah?”

“Yeah, we’re doing great…” H trailed off as the results for TGTTOS were displayed. “I didn’t expect to see Wilbur in fifth place individual for this game. Let’s go!”

Ren nodded. “Red’s popping off!”

“We’re in fifth, boys!” H cheered. “And False!” He hastily added. “Sorry, I’m gonna keep saying boys, my bad!”

False playfully nudged H. “It’s fine. Let’s go, boys!”

Ren glanced at the team leaderboard once again. “And coin-wise, we’re not far behind. We’re like, 400 coins behind 1st place?”

H nodded vigorously. “Yeah! These are basically warm up rounds. Points don’t matter too much during this.”

They discussed their individual placements so far (Fruit in 3rd, and newcomer Tubbo was in 6th, which was great). But soon, it was time to choose the third game.

“I’m down to do Rocket Spleef,” Fruit mentioned, but unfortunately the other teams didn’t think so. A lot of votes were going towards parkour. Ren and False shared nervous looks. Of course it was parkour.

“Let’s do parkour! Let’s get it!” Fruit cried out.

Ren shrugged, and cast his vote. He would do whatever his team wanted to do. “Alright!”

“PRACTICE PAYS OFF, BOYS AND GIRLS!! LET’S DO THIS!” H boomed, his loud voice shocking even other teams. “Let’s go in full concentration mode!”

“We got this, we got this,” Fruit repeated. “We practiced this a ton.”

Parkour Warrior was indeed chosen, and Ren rubbed his sweaty palms together. He looked uncharacteristically serious due to his weakest game being played. But they had practiced parkour the most, and their practice surely had to pay off. “Alright, here we go.”

H flung his arms around False and Ren. “Guys, it’s okay. Don’t be scared! Both of you popped off in previous games. Trust yourselves a little more!”

Ren inhaled, then exhaled. He clenched his fists. “We can do this. We will do this. I ain’t scared of some stupid parkour!”

False started to stretch her arms. “We’ve done our best to prepare. And y’know?” She turned and smiled. “I don’t think I’ll have any regrets.”

… The Blue Bats stared at the beautiful rainbow parkour course in front of them. The course was modified slightly each Championship, and H and Fruit had already noticed some differences. But if the Bats struggled at the new stages, it meant that everyone else would too. And so they found comfort in that.

This was the third game of the 9th Championship. The hermits’ Achilles’ heel— Parkour Warrior.

But instead of fear and disappointment, the hermits faced Parkour Warrior with confidence and determination. And when the horn sounded, they placed their trust in themselves—

And fearlessly jumped. 

Chapter Text

I'm an alien

‘Cause I'm not of this world

I have a name

but I've been changed, and now I can't stay the same

Parkour Warrior was the third game chosen for the 9th Championship, and the hermits were understandably nervous. “Here we go,” Ren determinedly repeated to himself as he leapt between platforms. 

Ren was already struggling with the first few orange levels while his teammates rushed forward. H and Fruit started pointing out the differences and how much more difficult it was compared to the practice course. Ren could see people zooming past him, and he clicked his tongue in frustration.

H’s voice comfortingly came through the intercom. “Ren, if you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask us. We’re here to help you. Same thing for False, same thing for Fruit.” H had probably realized the hermits were quieter than usual because they were too focused to speak.

“Yep,” came False’s voice. She sounded a little strained. “Just concentrating.”

“I’m doing okay,” Fruit said. “I think I’m in second. Yeah, I’m a hundred percent in second place.”

“Sweet!” Ren replied automatically.

“It’s me and someone from the yellow team. Oh no, they changed this ladder— what is this?!” Fruit exploded, partly horrified, partly fascinated.

False chuckled. “I knew they would change quite a lot.”

“You need speed for this,” Fruit mumbled to himself as he presumably tried the level again. “Ooooh my God that was hard,” he choked out. “Okay. Well, I did it.”

“I’m on the panes,” False told everyone. “Let’s take it easy.”

Ren was approaching the green section with the “windows jump”. There were windows in the wall, but to add to the difficulty, trap doors were placed inside the windows, making them even smaller. Ren vaguely remembered H and Fruit talking about the new changes some minutes earlier, but it was only now that he could see it for himself.

Fruit spoke up. “They changed the uh— Ren, you know that rail section that you struggled with before?”

“Yeah?”

Fruit was laughing. “They changed it completely.”

“Ohh, nice.” Ren was somewhat relieved, but two things: he wasn’t sure if he could even get there, and heck, what if they made that level even more difficult?

“I’m in first place, I think,” Fruit notified the team nonchalantly. It wasn’t a flex, or encouragement, or pressure. It was just a statement.

“We’re in first,” H said, referring to the team leaderboard. “All of us.”

(Ren thought about how he was still stuck on the same section for two minutes now, and everyone else was in front of him.)

“Nice,” False panted. “Keep it going.”

“I’m literally in first overall,” Fruit said just as nonchalantly. 

“These new window jumps are tough,” Ren groaned as he failed again for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah, you need to line it up. You can shift to the edge of the slab and jump,” False offered.

“Noooo!” Fruit cried out, sounding like he was in pain. “They added trapdoors to the yellow section!” Even the parkour master was getting a little annoyed, and his teammates couldn’t help but giggle. 

“They just added trapdoors everywhere because they know everyone hates them!” False burst out, laughing. “Evil! Evil Championship!”

Ren finally did the windows jump, and moved on to the legendary painful panes that he and False disliked so much. False had mentioned the panes some minutes ago, but of course she had moved on. Ren sighed, and braced himself. 

“I’m gonna lose my first place here in a sec,” Fruit said casually. Fruit’s chillness was great, because it sounded like he wasn’t tilted at all. He was getting first? Nice! He was losing his first place! Also nice!

“No worries man,” False replied reassuringly, but she was quickly distracted. “Wait H, how did you do the ladder jump?! The heck!”

Ladder… Ren turned the word over in his mind. Fruit had also mentioned a difficult ladder jump earlier, and if it was hard for him and False, how hard would it be for him?

H pondered his words. “I… just kinda went for it and hoped for the best,” he sheepishly admitted. 

“... So you just let go and try to land on it?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s how I did it.”

“How? I-I don’t think that’s possible! I dunno how to do it!” False was sounding a little panicky now. 

“I barely made it? I think it’s just gonna be practice for you,” H said. “Might just be falling over and over again.”

“Do I just let go of the ladder and try to jump towards it in the air?”

“Yeah!”

Ren wasn’t paying close attention to his teammates because he was currently speeding through the levels (or at least, he was going as fast as he could, which he thought wasn’t very fast, but anyways). No one was next to him, which was comforting (he had more space to move around ) and not (he was behind and he was probably dragging his team down. Fun).

“What did they change?” Ren asked, hoping to be better prepared for future jumps. 

“The ladder jumps. Y’know, that one with the entire wall full of ladders,” False informed him. “It’s really difficult now. It’s not good at all.”

“Ah, okay.”

“I’m not getting anywhere near it!” False exclaimed. Her words were coming out quicker and quicker, which was a sure sign she was getting frustrated. “That’s the problem!”

“BOOM!” Fruit gleefully shouted. He had also adopted Ren’s way of saying things. “I was the first one to finish ice trapdoors! Let’s goooooo!”

“Fruitberries was the first player to complete Stage 7-1: The Sneaky Jumper!” The Championship Commentator boldly announced. Ren felt sweat drip down his back. Fruityloops was at Stage 7 already? Well, to be fair, Fruit was a Green God. His performance was expected, but still wholly impressive.

“Fruit, you’re doing amazing!” H whooped.

“Nice, dude.” Ren exhaled, and clambered up the walls. This must be the ladder jump False was talking about. He glimpsed a familiar shade of blonde hair and exhaled in relief. Finally, a familiar face! “Hey, Falsie.”

“Hey.” False looked exhausted, and she was clutching onto the ladder closest to the edge. In order to go through that level, players had to drop from the ladder and somehow grab onto the ladder on the platform below. The problem was the platform was a tad too far to the right, and people were barely missing it. Ren watched as False fell, then he also jumped, but ended up doing exactly what False did. They both crashed on the trampoline floor below. 

Ren winced, and rubbed his arms. He stumbled to his feet, but False was still lying there. She was probably exhausted by trying and failing the same jump over and over again. 

“You’ve caught up to me,” False panted. She looked miserable. “I’m gonna be stuck here for the whole game.”

Ren stretched out a hand. “Well, at least you have me now, and we can both fail at this together!” He said brightly to lighten the atmosphere.

“No, no, False, don’t think like that,” H called out. “Just thrust your body towards the ladder and hope for the best.”

False let Ren pull her up, and managed a smile. “Yeah… I guess.”

The two hermits tried again, only to fail. False barely managed to roll out of the way before Ren also came tumbling down. “I was flinging my arms like a madwoman,” she laughed. 

A little bit slower now, the hermits clambered their way to the ladder again. They had attempted this multiple times and they didn’t even get close to the ladder. False and Ren stood there, side by side, to catch their breaths. 

“... I really hope we’re not gonna be stuck here for the rest of the game,” False muttered. 

Ren was more optimistic (probably because he hadn’t tried as much False did). “We got this dudes, we got this.”

False was glaring at their target ladder like it was her sworn nemesis. “I just don’t know how to get there…”

As False stood there and brainstormed solutions, Ren impulsively stepped off the ladder, and expected to feel the trampoline below him. But instead, he was suddenly holding onto the ladder they were supposed to jump to. Ren was so surprised, he nearly fell off. 

“REN!” False exclaimed, totally shocked. They stared at each other, faces sweaty but delighted.

“You just did it in one!” False continued incredulously, but she was beaming. “What the heck, man! Yesss Ren!”

Ren could hardly believe it. “Yessss baby!”

“How— how did you do it?”

“I just… I just fell,” Ren confessed. “I…”

He glanced at the gap between him and False. The wall False was on jutted out from his, and Ren had to crane his neck to even see False, who was above and to his left. False was clinging onto the rightmost of her ladder, while Ren’s feet were dangling in mid air. He hauled himself up so he could stand on the ladder steps. And suddenly, it hit him.

All this time, False was aiming for the top part of his ladder, and so she tried to jump towards that. But in reality, the gamemakers wanted players to fall towards the bottom part of the ladder. Ren could see that the handles on the bottom part were protruding so they could be easier to grab on to. It was actually ridiculously simple. 

They had to fall, not jump. Let gravity take its course, and then reach out and grab onto the handles. That was how Ren made it. And if they kept on stubbornly aiming for the top half of the ladder, they would never make it.

“False, you really have to let go,” Ren said, echoing H’s words from earlier. “You have to fall, not jump. Fall towards the thicker handles here instead of jumping towards the top.”

False glanced at him, worried. Of course she would be— free-falling sounded dangerous, and it felt risky. You could jump in any direction. If you fell, well— your only destination was the ground, and you couldn’t control that. 

Ren wondered if she was nervous. “It’s okay. I can wait here for you.”

“Don’t wait for me!” False cried out, sounding almost offended, but Ren knew she was just stressed. “It’s a competition!”

“You can fall,” Ren reassured her. “Trust yourself. You’ll be able to grab onto the ladder.”

Ren scooted aside so False had space to land. He watched as she took a deep breath, then fell. As expected, she fell near the ladder, and she could easily reach out and land. She exchanged triumphant smiles with Ren. “Let’s goooo!”

“Well, I guess it’s nice you caught up to me.” False grinned. “And you could show me the ropes.”

Ren smiled good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah.”

Together, the hermits proceeded to the next level. As they jumped and leaped, Fruit coolly stated, “Dream took my lead.”

“We got this, don’t worry!” Was H’s immediate reply. “You’re doing amazing, Fruit!”

“Umm, thank you,” Fruit replied a bit sheepishly. 

“Fruityloops, the fact that you can go through the new bits like it’s nothing just blows my mind,” Ren couldn’t help but say, but quickly returned his focus to the blue section in front of him. “Ohh man, they changed this bit I trained so hard for.” This was probably the section Fruit told him (way) earlier.

Fruit was sections ahead of them, but he was struggling too. “Uh oh, I’m in trouble. They changed 8-2 a lot.”

H remained unfaltering. “We got this!” 

False finished the rails section quicker than Ren, but she turned around to wave and call out, “You got this, Ren! Just take your time, dude.” Ren nodded, too tired to even speak. 

Fruit was giving them updates on which S tier was with him (“Ooh, here’s Quig!” “Ah, Dream choked this!”), which was… nice. But it also served as a reminder of the difference in their skills. Ren jumped, then fell, and climbed up. He jumped, and failed again. He groaned out loud. 

“Oooh, this yellow one is harder. Y’know, the leap one,” False said. H agreed. Ren had no idea what they were talking about, but he trusted their word. 

“I got halfway through, but it’s so long it’s just… it’s insane.” False exhaled. “I wish I had a bit more time for this one. I’ll definitely get it.”

“We’re all stuck in 8-2,” Fruit announced. “No one can beat 8-2.”

Ren was still stuck on Stage 5 with a bunch of people, and it was funny to hear Fruit talk about how he and all the parkour masters were stuck. It seemed like everybody was struggling, no matter their skill level. “Well, that’s the goal, isn’t it?” Ren chuckled.

There was a pause as everyone focused on their sections. Ren finally made it to the final platform of his section, and leapt— only to miss it by an inch. His fingernails futilely scratched the wall, and then he plummeted. “NOOOOO!” he cried out in agony.

“You got it Ren, let’s do it!” Even though Ren couldn’t see H, he could picture his signature wide grin.

“I missed the final jump, man!” Ren complained. 

“It’s alright! Let’s get it, king!” H cheered. His voice quieted as he returned to musing about his own jumps. “Ugh, I keep on missing one small jump I shouldn’t be missing…”

The timer was ticking, and before they knew it, there were only forty seconds left. Their hearts started thumping faster and faster, their hands getting drenched in more and more sweat.

“Keep going, guys.” Fruit probably realized he couldn’t do anything now because no one could get past 8-2. “Me and about seven people are here.”

Ren’s limbs were shaking as he attempted jump after jump. He’d practiced this section so much only for it to be completely revamped, and now it felt like he had never put in effort at all—

“HBomb94 competed Stage 7: Ice!” The Commentator boomed, and Ren managed a quick smile. At least H got through a stage when there were literally twenty seconds left. (Not like Ren, who was still failing.)

Time was up, and Ren collapsed on the ground. He had spent the last ten seconds desperately jumping, but instead of making progress, he just tired himself out. But then again, Ren wasn’t going to give up. He had struggled to the end, and he was proud of it.

“Man, I’m so sorry dudes,” Ren murmured, dejected. Not a single one of his Bats were in sight (because they were all ahead of him). “They changed the rail one, and it’s just…”

“You’re sorry?! Waddya mean you got to the rail one?!” H aggressively interrupted. “Let’s go!”

Ren was still upset. “It caught me, man, and…”

“WADDYA MEAN SORRY? GET OUTTA HERE, REN!” H screamed into Ren’s intercom. “You kicked ass!! DON’T forget it!” Ren couldn’t help but smile after hearing H’s compliments. Ren knew H had watched his and False’s VODs, and H could see they both improved a lot. 

After Parkour Warrior was finished, participants had to walk all the way to the beginning and back to the Decision Dome. Ren decided to wait for False, who was just a few levels in front of him. He sat down, leaned against a wall, and took a sip of cool water. His limbs were still shaking from exertion, and he hoped he wouldn’t spill his drink.

“Hey Ren!”

Ren turned to see a familiar face, and grinned. “Yo Martyn, what’s cracking baby?”

Martyn tapped his ear intercom, a sign that he was listening to his team Pink Parrots. “Nothing, they’re just jokingly saying I let the whole team down!” He laughed. 

Ren sighed. “You and me both, dudes.” 

“Aaaand we’re tenth now, so there goes our lordships,” Martyn remarked. When Ren raised an eyebrow, he explained, “We’re all gonna buy land and name ourselves lords if we don’t get last. It’s our running joke.”

“Nice.” Ren thought about how he and False were determined to “not get ninth”. “You waiting for someone, Martyn?”

“Uhh, yeah! There’s Jimmy and Joel over there— and I think that’s False.”

All three of them had managed to proceed further than Ren and Martyn (who were both stuck on the same section). False and Joel were enthusiastically chatting about something. The five met up and laughed about Grian, who was stuck on Stage 3. Grian just rolled his eyes and jokingly hit Martyn. 

“Stop it guys, you know I suck at parkour,” Grian groaned.

“Do you know Fruit got up to 8-2?” False casually asked.

Grian’s face instantly lit up. “Fruity B!! Good for him!” He cheered. Grian instantly grabbed Ren and yelled into his intercom, “CONGRATS, FRUITY B!”

“Oh my God, was that Grian?” Fruit laughed on the other side.

“Umm, yeah!” Ren replied as he shot looks at Grian. “He’s rather… excited.”

But soon the merry group of hermits and Pink Parrots had to break up because it was time to vote for the fourth game. False and Ren met up with H and Fruit, and they eagerly discussed current team rankings.

“For Parkour Warrior, we got second place basically,” H shrieked. There were less than fifty coins between the second place and the Blue Bats. “Let’s go! LET’S GO!”

The individual leaderboards were displayed. Fruit was up to 8-2, H 8-1, False 6-2 and Ren 5-2.

“Alright!” Ren lifted his chin. “That’s not too bad. I’m happy with that. I’m pleased with that—”

“FALSE, YOU GOT TO 6-2 AS WELL?!” H screamed.

“Nice!” Fruit whooped, his calm voice a stark contrast to H’s excited one.

“Who ARE these different players?!” H demanded, shaking False’s shoulders. “You’ve changed so much since the last one!!”

“Because you two taught us!” Ren exclaimed. He was properly laughing now, and so was False. “We’re so much better now, thanks to Hmamma and Fruityloops.”

The overall team rankings were now shown, and the Blue Bats could maintain being in the top half of teams. “Right, we’re in fourth by a very small margin,” Fruit announced.

“I can’t believe how close the top scores are too.” Ren squinted at the leaderboard. Aqua was in first with 5633 coins, Green in second with 5460, Lime in third with 5370, and his Blue Bats at 5190. “This is a crazy MCC, guys. Geez.”

“And it’s about to get crazier!” H cheered. His legs were shaking and he was leaning against a wall for support, but that didn’t stop his enthusiasm one bit. “Let’s go!”

“Okay, so, what we need to think of now is, what will they not be able to coordinate on, and we will,” Fruit told everyone. “Since we’re approaching the second half of the Championship now, and the multiplier starts to matter.”

“Yup, yup.”

The selection of games rolled in, and the Bats studied their choices carefully. 

“Okay, so which of these do you not want to play?” Fruit asked. “H? You listening?”

The Bats turned to H, who was staring at thin air. Maybe it was just the lighting, but H’s face looked a little pale. H blinked, then waved a hand. “Sorry, spaced out for a little.”

Ren gulped. “Well, for me, Hole in the Wall is my worst.”

The Blue Bats once again waited for others to vote first, and it seemed like it would be between Hole in the Wall and Battle Box. 

“Can we do Hole in the Wall and get it out of the way?” Ren requested. The rest of the team agreed, and so they voted.

“So fair warning guys, this is by far my worst event.” Ren felt the need to inform everyone.

“Yeah, because your fake inflatable abs get in the way,” False said cheekily.

“But I’m hoping the parkour practice will make me better!” Ren said optimistically. 

False patted Ren’s shoulder with a smile. “I think it will!”

“Just aim for the center of the holes,” Fruit suggested. “Line yourself up and you’ll be fine.”

As expected, Hole in the Wall was chosen, and the Blue Bats cheered to encourage each other. They had done good, and they would do better.

“Let’s win the Championship!” H wildly screeched.

“Let’s win ALL Championships!” Ren yelled, matching H’s energy. “Every single Championship! LET’S GOOOO!”

H grinned. “This is our Championship! We’re totally owning it!”

The end is where we begin

It's crawling back when

We run away, run away

“Pay massive attention, guys. Once you beat a jump, immediately look for the next one,” Fruit instructed. The participants stood next to the Hole in the Wall platform as they waited for the game to be set up. H was sitting down. Parkour had taken a toll on him, but he was sure a bit of rest was all he needed. Besides, he couldn’t let his team down! He’d even gotten to 8-1, and that was huge for him. 

“Make call outs on what you see,” H added on. “Just make sure you’re paying attention at all times. The big thing is, you don’t have to come in first. And False, you know my tip for you. If you can move forward, do it.”

False nodded. “No edges. Yeah yeah yeah.”

“Give yourself space to make a mistake.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Let’s GET IT!” H roared, surprising participants near him. “Can’t wait to place first on this!”

“Let’s gooo!” Ren echoed.

“So right now, Aqua’s in the lead,” H pointed out. “But it’s because the games have been catered to them so far. So if they get Sands of Time, I don’t think they’re gonna do too hot on that.”

“Hmm, yeah, I think that’s where they struggle,” Fruit agreed. 

The participants were now allowed to climb up the platform. Hole in the Wall was usually a noisy and confused affair due to the sheer number of people crowded in one small spot. Not to mention if you jumped fast enough and you were lucky, you might be able to “pass through” the walls. This was because the walls were made softer as not to injure players, and they ended up becoming so soft and malleable you could literally walk through them occasionally. Of course, a lot of it relied on luck, but it was a last ditch effort used by practically everyone. Veterans taught that to new players, and you would cheer if someone on your team “passed through” impossible walls. It was how the Championship worked. 

The first round of Hole in the Wall started, and at first, all the participants were doing fine. There wasn’t anything too difficult, the gaps were large, and the walls were slow. Then jumps started to be required. 

“Jump a little early,” H reminded his teammates. “That’s the biggest tip I can give.”

“Yup, yup.”

The participants were shouting out wall directions and colours, with someone occasionally yelling out a wrong direction to troll people. Most participants went with the flow, and did their best to pass through holes. It wasn’t long before they had their first elimination— Spifey.

H inhaled, then exhaled. His breath was coming out in smaller and smaller pants. This was one of his best games. If Fruit had Parkour Warrior, H had Hole in the Wall. It was crucial he had to do good for his team. 

The sun mockingly glinted above him. H’s legs were still as wobbly as they were after Parkour Warrior— huh, that wasn’t good. H gritted his teeth and tried to pull himself together. Beads of perspiration dripped from his forehead, but he could barely feel them. 

Colours and directions and voices started to slur together. Vivid spots of pink and orange and magenta danced in his vision— wait, were these colours supposed to be in the game? H stared up at the bright sun—

then his body tilted—

and his vision became black.

And I'm a loser if that means I've been lost before

but now I found it, I'm surrounded

‘Cause you can hear the way it sounded

“... that round should be reset…”

“No... they can’t do that…”

“I just… he’s okay…”

“... so worried…”

Head hurt. Hands sweaty. Mouth dry. Head hurt.

“We should give him some space though…”

“I know, but geez. Hmamma really freaked me out—“

Hmamma? There was only one person who called him that.

H’s eyes opened, and he was met with a blue tent above him— ahh, so he was in one of the first aid tents. He could see some blurry figures roaming around. Those were probably his Bats.

Wait.

He was in the first aid tent? What happened? Did he faint? Oh no—

“Ahh, so you’re awake.” A familiar voice. Cherry Twitt. H felt a cup pressed against his lips. “Good to see you. Take a sip.”

H did so, his actions slow and mechanical. He didn’t know why, but the way water trickled down his parched throat felt so foreign.

“I fainted?” H murmured after he was able to speak.

“You did,” Cherry confirmed. “We managed to get you out before a wall could hit you. The game went on though, but they postponed the second and third rounds until we know how you’re doing.”

“Ughhh…” H raised a hand to his forehead. “So I got 39th?”

“Yeah. Kinda surprised you asked about that first.”

“Well,” H exhaled, “don’t wanna let my Bats down.”

“Speaking of them, they’re over here.” Cherry waved the rest of H’s teammates over. “Guys! H’s awake!” She then turned to H and commented, “A lot of your friends from other teams wanted to see you, but I only let in your team because this place is gonna be crowded.”

“Ah.” H was feeling guilty for worrying all his friends and disrupting the Championship, but those negative thoughts were chased away when his friends rushed towards him. 

The Bats were understandably very concerned, with Fruit nearly yanking his hair out. “I was with you at the end of parkour!” Fruit blubbered, voice going higher and higher. “I should’ve noticed you didn’t look too good—”

False shoved bananas and home-baked banana bread into H’s arms. “You need the energy, H.”

H shot her a smile. “Thanks for that, Banana Girl.”

Ren sat next to H and started fanning him. “You alright, Hmamma? Wanna take a break from the Championship?”

“HELL NO!” H cried out way more aggressively than he wanted to. Cherry raised an eyebrow. “H, don’t force yourself,” she reminded him.

“I’ll be fine. Really,” H insisted. He downed another cup of water and started munching on the banana bread. (Man, False was good at baking. He should ask her for one of those iced Stan Twitt cookies that Fruit liked so much.) “I just didn’t drink or eat enough after Parkour Warrior. I’ll be fine. ‘Sides, I was probably having a bad day. And it’s quite hot.”

“It is hot,” Ren replied cautiously. “But for realsies, H, you gotta put your health above all. Don’t push yourself. It’s not going to pay off, and it’s not good.”

“I know,” H replied, his mouth full of bananas. “I’m the Hmom, right? I know how to take care of myself. Don’t worry.”

His Bats shared uneasy looks. “Alright, if you say so…”

H could tell they were all worried. “If you think I’m really pushing myself, feel free to knock me out. I know Fruit’s more than capable; he beats me every time we duel,” he said humorously. Fruit managed to grin.

H rested for a few moments, then decided to ask how everyone else did after he fainted. False got 29th, Ren 27th, and Fruit 6th. Granted, all participants were a little flustered by HBomb fainting, but Noxcrew couldn’t reset the round. At least there were two more rounds of Hole in the Wall later.

Ren scratched his head. “Yeah, see, this is why Hole in the Wall is one of my bad games.”

“What do you mean?” H cried out. He slapped Ren’s arm. “It was a good try, Ren! You beat me!”

“You fainted though, it doesn’t count!” Ren laughed. 

“But I mean… this is my game,” H confessed. “Getting 39th was upsetting. I’m actually really good at this.”

“Aww man.” Ren patted H’s back. “It’s all good though! It’s all good! We have two more rounds of this. Gotta put that behind you, Hmamma!”

H grinned cheekily. “Just gonna have to get first in the next two rounds, let’s go!”

Now the Bats could see that H was back to his usual strength, and relief flooded their faces. “THAT’S what I’m talking about!” Ren boomed. “Let’s go, baby!”

When H walked out of the first-aid tent, friends crowded around him, all anxious about H. H swatted their worries away. In the corner of his eye, H could see False and Ren around someone from the Orange team— it was Pearl, one of their 3-G friends. 

“Pearl, you did amazing!” H could hear Ren cheer. “You got 3rd! You must have been practicing a lot.”

Pearl chuckled. “Well, I did promise myself I would return stronger for the 9th Championship after we got massacred last time.”

H was delighted that Tubbo got first, and hugged Tubbo and called him his BFF. “Don’t faint next time!” Tubbo just screamed at H.

Noxcrew and Scott were certainly a little shaken up by H’s incident, so they performed checks on every participant to make sure they were physically okay. And so half an hour later, the second round of Hole in the Wall finally started. (Stan Twitt was fuming because they had no patience for anyone, including the UwU people they stanned. Stan Twitt was one of those people who eagerly anticipated the Championship and yet would throw a fit if there was a minor problem. It was like they didn’t appreciate Noxcrew and Scott at all.)

The second round started innocently enough, then Fruitberries was accidentally knocked off and got 39th. It was almost an exact mirror of what H did earlier. “I JUMPED!” he screamed in protest, but there was nothing he could do.

“The game’s against us!” H roared. “A lot of people just died though, so we got this.”

Fruit stood on the sidelines and called out colours and directions. Soon, participants were required to jump to get through the holes, and the holes were getting progressively higher.

“Phew! That was difficult!” False panted after she and the remaining two Bats successfully jumped over a wall.

“Niceee, Falsie!” Ren cheered—

Then one wall eliminated more than half of the remaining participants, False included. Amidst the anguished yells, H grabbed a confused Ren and guided him through the approaching wall. H knitted his eyebrows together. There were around ten people left. He and Ren had bested three-quarters of the participants.

“Let’s go! You guys are killing it!” Fruit called out.

Participants were falling off, and the walls were coming quicker than ever. Ren was swiftly eliminated, and there was just H left. He nimbly darted and jumped through the holes, and tried not to pay attention to how many people were still alive. H had just fainted, but he had never felt more alive—

“Round over!” The Championship Commentator boomed. “HBomb94 is the last player standing!”

H eagerly pumped his fists in the air. “LET’S GOOOOO!” he hollered. He was so joyful he could kiss the ground (except it had been trodden on by forty pairs of feet).

“NICEE!” “Hmamma, LET’S GO!” His teammates were similarly excited, and frantically waved from the side. 

“I GOT NERFED ON THE FIRST ROUND!” H yelled, and everybody clapped and laughed.

H was ecstatic. He had gotten 39th last time, and now he was 1st. He literally went from zero to hero. Just like how he was sure the hermits would go from placing 10th to 1st.

… The pieces were all coming together. Failing, then getting up, then ultimately winning. It was the classic success story— the classic underdogs story. 

And H could see it unfolding right in front of his eyes.

Too bad he could never quite convince his three teammates to believe it. 

“Right, let’s go. Again,” False said as everyone else made their way to the platform again. 

“My heart rate is through the roof!” Ren burst out, his eyes wide. Fruit was still quietly laughing to himself, probably to hide his pain of getting 39th last time.

“I-I dunno what to say,” Fruit muttered. He then massaged his temple. “I messed up.”

“It’s all good, Fruity.”

“You pulled a me,” H humorously quipped. “Except don’t actually faint, because I’ll be heartbroken if you do so.”

The third round began, and the first wall surprisingly knocked out a lot of people, including Ren. “Nooo, I’m out first!” Ren burst out, and the Bats could hear his voice fade as he fell down. “Stupid yellow wall—“

H laughed. “A lot of people died! You’re okay, don’t worry about it. Just brush it off. Fruit and I died first too in the last two rounds, so maybe it’s our curse!”

“That was a really unfair first wall too!” Ren spoke through the intercoms. “Wow. Brutal.”

False agreed. “Yeah, it got a handful of people.”

The three Bats were doing fine until a wall came behind them, and when they noticed, it was too late. False was immediately knocked off, and Fruit and H got through without a millisecond to spare. “Agh! I couldn’t spin around to look at it!” False exclaimed.

“You’re amazing, Falsie,” Ren responded passionately. “You did so good.”

Judging from the amount of people that were on the platform, False probably got around 15th, which was indeed amazing. “Thanks, I wasn’t breathing,” False laughed. 

Fruit was out a few walls later, and like last time, it was just H remaining. There were six or five participants left, and H reckoned he was doing pretty good. “Nice, H!” Ren screamed. “You got this!”

Three participants left. H’s eyes nervously darted around for the next wall, but he didn’t know where it was until he felt something nudge into his side. False cried out “behind you!”, but it was too late. H was knocked off, and landed on the trampoline. “Blue Bats have all been eliminated!” The Commentator announced.

The three Bats hurried to help H up. “Well played, dudes!” “Wow, that was great!”

The third round of Hole in the Wall quickly concluded after H fell off, and just like that, the fourth game of the 9th Championship was over. “We got second!” Fruit yelled in delight, and H turned to look at the leaderboard for Hole in the Wall. “Ohh look at that— we pretty much got first here!”

Lime Llamas was the best performing team in Hole in the Wall with 2496 coins earned. Blue Bats was in second with 2472. Upon seeing the scores, H groaned.

“If I didn’t faint, we would’ve been first.” H was very certain about that, and he was mad at himself for fainting. 

Fruit tossed H his water bottle. “It’s okay! Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“SECOND PLACE AND I FAINTED IN THE FIRST ROUND!” H boldly proclaimed. Several participants jumped, spooked by the loud noise. “WE GOT THIS!”

“And I think that’s history for Falsie and I!” Ren chimed in, his grin wide. “This-this is the best we’ve done yet!”

“LET’S GO!” H screamed, hyped.

“Well played, guys!” A happy Ren nodded at his teammates. “Twenty four points from first? Wow.”

The overall rankings were about to be shown, and the Blue Bats held their breath. Were they able to maintain their fourth place? Could they still be in the top half of the teams despite H fainting during the first round? They clutched each other nervously as the numbers started to pop up.

“Ohh my God, look at the whole event,” Fruit gasped. Lime was still in lead with 7866 coins, but Blue was right behind them at 7662! 

“DUDES!” Ren was literally shaking in excitement. His look of unadulterated joy was mirrored by his fellow hermit False. Doubtless the hermits had never placed anywhere near second. Despite being tired after Hole in the Wall, they grabbed each other’s hands and started to jump madly.

“LET’S GO!” H yelled again. He’d lost count of how many times he uttered that phrase, but hey, it was one he would repeat again and again and never get tired of it.

“Second place!” Ren somehow looked like he was close to tears. False was laughing so much she literally couldn’t speak. Ren wiped his eyes and took a second to compose himself.

“Oookay. Now the sweating is starting!”

Trust Ren to say something like that.

“No, now’s the time for a quick break!” H gestured at the large timer above the Decision Dome.

“Aaand time for the Audience Takeover.” False exhaled. She clearly knew she had no say when it came to the Audience Takeover. Everybody knew it was controlled by a select number of participants and Stan Twitt.

So everybody refreshed themselves during break time. “WE’RE NOT NINTH TODAY!” Ren proudly cried to everyone. “Not. Ninth. Today! My dudes! It ain’t happening!” False snapped a photo of the Blue Bat’s current rank to commemorate that “they were second once”, then started texting Cub about the Championship. H ambled closer to the individual scoreboards and found Technoblade in first and Fruit in fourth. H was in sixth, and H was pretty happy with that.

“What game are we playing here?” Fruit asked as he munched on False’s banana bread. “Techno said Battle Box, Spifey said Battle Box, and they’re on the same team. No one else said anything, I think.”

H frowned and squinted at his phone. “...Looks like it’s Battle Box?”

“Yeah, I think so. It’s a hundred percent Battle Box.”

H laughed. Technoblade’s power was never to be underestimated.

“Actually, no, Dream can make it whatever game he chooses,” Fruit quipped. “He just hadn’t said anything yet.”

“The big peeps sway the votes,” False laughed. She was perched on a wall and swinging her legs as she idly gazed at her phone.

“Our votes don’t matter!” H chimed in, also humorously. “We’re irrelevant compared to Dream’s fanbase!”

Every other participant understood the reality of the voting scenario, and chose to make fun of it. “What will Dream decide!” Mefs of Yellow Yaks cried out. His teammate Quig laughed. “Or Techno?” Everybody knew they would be playing whatever Techno or Dream wanted.

“... I want Rocket Spleef, but it’s getting a pathetically small amount of votes,” False noted. “It’s so sad. Popularity really is power, huh.”

Fruit tapped his chin. “I wanna play Battle Box anyways, so…”

“I’m just glad Sands of Time stays till the end.” H, of course, had to mention his beloved Sands of Time.

“Yeah, I would want to get Battle Box out of the way.”

“As long as Survival Games isn’t last, or isn’t the one before the last, we’re gonna do good,” H promised. “We’re in second right now!”

H started to pace back and forth. “Everyone predicting 6th place Blue Bats, not looking good for them, is it?” H said cheekily.

Fruit chuckled. “We’re just gonna win!”

“Yeah, we’re out here performing!”

“We’re only behind Lime by 200 and we’re ahead of Aqua by 400. But if it’s Battle Box, Aqua’s gonna take a lead on us,” H admitted. “So we have to get that game out of the way. Red Rabbits will also do decent during this, and Cyan… what’s going on with Cyan?” he asked, dismayed.

Cyan had Pete, Puffy, Sparklez, and Kara. They were predicted to be a decently strong team, and it was a little sad seeing them at 7th.

“Don’t count them out!” Fruit replied automatically. “Don’t count them out like how Reddit counted us out!”

“I’m not!” H answered. “I’m just surprised to see them down there!”

“I dunno! I don’t think Pete did too well in To Get To The Other Side—”

“True.”

“—and I don’t think Puffy did either?”

“Pete is in seventh individual, by the way. Which is… unheard of for Pete.”

“Yeah, but only half of the games have been played. I trust him to do well.”

They were quiet for a second as Fruit checked the voting and H pondered the individual ranking. False hopped off the wall and went off to presumably find Ren and Grian. 

“Wait!” Fruit abruptly cried out, panicked. “It— it might be SG!”

H’s heart sank, and he instantly checked Twitter. It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. “Yeah. Dream said SG.”

Of course. Of course the most popular participant would want Survival Games, the exact game he and his Bats had been avoiding every second. Fantastic luck they were having.

“I don’t wanna look at it!” Fruit wailed. He and H shared pained looks. Survival Games was very risky, and their team might lose their second place if it was played. 

“Wait! It might not be SG! Dream did it too late!” Fruit yelled gleefully. “Or not… SG might still win…”

False approached them, and peered over H’s shoulder. “Hey guys! Which game’s winning?”

Fruit was once again tearing his hair out. “SG might win!” he moaned. “Nooooo!”

“It’s between Battle Box and Survival Games,” H informed False in a calmer tone than Fruit (which was rare, because Fruit was usually the calm one). “But they’re basically the same for us.”

“Basically.” False sighed. “Man, PvP games… but now that I think about it, I might prefer Survival Games?”

All of them stared as the votes slowly increased. Battle Box was in the lead with 45.7% of the votes, and Survival Games was narrowly behind at 42.3%. Survival Games could creep up at any moment now and wipe the Blue Bats out. Time was ticking down, and H felt sweat drip down his leg—

“It’s Battle Box.” Fruit exhaled in relief, and dramatically flopped on H. “It’s so close though! Holy shi-”

“Alright guys.” Ren suddenly entered the conversation (maybe it was to prevent Fruit from swearing). “We got this, baby.”

“Yeah, we do!” Then a thought struck H. “Hey, Ren and False! What does it feel like being in second?”

Their cheeks instantly flushed, and Ren stuttered out a few nonsensical words before blurting out, “I’m pinching myself, man! Is this a dream? Am I in the Matrix? Wh-what’s happening?”

H wagged a finger in front of Ren’s nose. “Nah nah nah! This is you carrying us! Let’s go!”

“It feels… unreal,” False confessed, twisting her fingers. “And… well, at least Ren and I got second for once! We’re gonna remember this!”

Ren hopped to the left and to the right like an excited puppy. “Dudes!” he exclaimed, a sunny smile on his face. “Can I just quickly say that it’s been a rough year for everybody? And it’s such a pleasure meeting you two and hanging out, y’know? You guys are such gents, you’ve been so nice to us, and—”

Warmth gushed into H’s heart. “AAAAWW! You’re giving me goosebumps!” H cried out. “Stop it!”

“Seriously, man!” Ren couldn’t stop smiling. “You guys are great! I’m having such an awesome time!”

“This is why I love the Championships!” H cried out. “This is the chance I get to meet new people! I mean we kinda met before the Championship, but—”

“We really got closer because of it,” Ren finished H’s sentence. 

“I always try to team up with new people,” H told him, then broadly grinned. “I like how we can make each other better! Let’s kick the booty together!”

The Blue Bats sat down on a bench and waited for the second half of the Championship. At one moment, the Pink Parrots waved at Blue, with Grian waving especially vigorously, and the Bats waved back. 

An incident surfaced in H’s mind. “Y’know, Dream, the leader of the student council, said he wanted to make an event. But then he saw the Championship and said ‘I just can’t beat that. There’s no point in making another event.’”

“Yeah! How could you? Noxcrew’s a beast, and the Championship’s amazing.”

“It’s really awesome how this Championship can connect students from different classes with different hobbies.”

Ren took a sip of his drink. “And dudes, speaking of hobbies, I’m now kinda getting hooked to some parkour action, and I would like to do some more of it! It’s weird because I didn’t like parkour before.”

“Yeah! Parkour’s fun!” Fruit chimed in.

H’s eyes lit up. “You like the feeling of progressing?” 

“Yeah, definitely! It feels so good to get better.” Ren stretched his limbs. “My skills reached a plateau, you know, and suddenly in a few weeks I’m so much better.”

“I mean, your focus wasn’t PvP or parkour, yeah?”

“No! It was making ginormous things! Fruityloops, you’ve seen it!”

False nudged Ren and laughed. “Yeah! Making ginormous things is the hermits’ speciality!”

But soon, the time for idle chatter was over. They would play Battle Box soon, and Fruit led his team in warming up. The Blue Bats knew they weren’t the strongest PvP team, and so they had to win by tactics. (Although H insisted so long Sands of Time was played in the end, they would get into Dodgebolt.)

Ren was optimistic as always. “We’ve been practicing PvP and we’ve been owning it up in some arenas, so let’s go!”

“Let’s get it!” “Let’s do this!” His teammates echoed his excitement. 

“Let’s just hope Ren and I don’t get destroyed like we were last time,” False laughed, the memory of losing 8 out of 9 times fresh in her mind. 

H scoffed. “Oh come on! We’re gonna slay at this! I know it!”

And so with their arms linked and hearts beating as one, the Blue Bats confidently stepped into the Battle Box arena.

‘Cause the end is where we begin

Where broken hearts mend and start to beat again

The end is where we begin

Chapter Text

They say we what we are, but we don’t have to be

I’m bad behaviour but I do it in the best way

Battle Box. The PvP game that the 8th Championship’s Yellow Yaks got annihilated by. 

False followed the rest of the Blue Bats to the Battle Box arena— or at least, one of the arenas. There would be five identical copies for the arena so pairs of teams could battle it out at the same time. The participants observed the arena and started forming strategies.

There was a new Battle Box arena for each Championship, and this time, it was inspired by a train station. Two stationary trains were placed opposite of each other, and there were small ponds and holes in the ground to act as traps. In the center was a box filled with nine cubes of white wool. It was quite easy to spot the white wool considering the ground was covered with grey gravel. False kept the information carefully in her head.

Last time, her team was destroyed in Battle Box. The Pink Parrots in particular were consumed by some sort of weird Stan Twitt induced bloodlust, and her team was badly hurt. But this time, she and Ren had trained and practiced. Not to mention they had two good PvPers on their side. False took a deep breath. She should stop worrying and get herself ready.

Fruit was rummaging through the gear every team was provided. “Okay, we have leather boots, swords, guns and twelve bullets each. That’s a lot.”

H turned over the BB bullets in his palm. “Yeah, that’s a lot. But onto the strategy now! Okay, so Ren?”

Ren turned, eager to please. “Yes?”

H was once again performing his leader duties and assigning roles to his teammates. “I’m gonna call you the wool guy. You do not run in for the middle area unless we call, unless you see them bum rushing. If you see them bum rushing to the middle, don’t focus on removing the white wool, but their wool. So you give us time to come in there and kill them.”

Battle Box could be won via two methods— either by eliminating everyone on the opposing team or placing cubes of your colour in the middle. In very early Championships, the cubes were made of plastic, but after participants started whacking each other with the hard plastic cubes (which they weren’t supposed to do) and people got injured, Noxcrew changed them to be made out of wool, which was softer and easier to grab. Being hit by a cube would hurt about as much as being slapped with a Jellie plushie, unless the Jellie plushie was launched fifty meters into the air by a weirdly complex catapult that your genius classmate made (Etho, stop.) Anyways, that was why teams would have a designated “wool person” to remove the nine blocks of white wool from the box and replace them with your team’s coloured wool. Each participant had a satchel of wool blocks, so if several people tried to “wool” at the same time, it could be quite confusing. (“Wool” was simultaneously a noun and a verb, and something more. It would evolve to become a meme due to a certain lime team in the future, but that was a story for another time.)

“Oh, so I’m taking the wool away?” Ren asked just to be sure.

“Yeah, if they place it,” False confirmed.

“We’re gonna take this methodically and try to kill everyone first before we place the wool. But if they rush to the middle, we need you to go there and stall.”

Ren rubbed his palms together. “Gotcha.”

False started stretching her wrists. Considering each player had twelve bullets, they would probably use guns a lot. False preferred guns to swords, so this might work in her favour.

“Go cause chaos, basically?”

Causing chaos was extremely easy for a Hermitcraft member, even without weirdly complex catapults or cow launchers that had a 95% chance of squeezing you to death (Etho, Zedaph, stop.)

“Yeah! You see the area right in front of the starting area? With the concrete or gravel or whatever that is? And the little walls?”

“Yeah?”

“Use those. Use those as cover and try not to get hit.”

“Yeah,” Fruit chimed in. “Just keep a good watch on mid.”

“We’ll come in as fast as we can once you call out they’re rushing in,” H told Ren.

“Alright!” Ren looked happy with his job, so H turned to the other hermit. “So False, wanna go right or left?”

False stared at the arena, not really sure what to do. Weren’t H and Fruit the experts? Why were they asking her? H could’ve just given her something to do like he did with Ren. “I… do not mind,” she ended up saying, her tone hesitant. 

H did not like that.

“No no NO!” H boisterously burst out, and False jumped. “Make your decision! Right or left!”

False nervously laughed. “Uhh…”

“Which one do you want?” H relentlessly continued with a grin on his face.

False scrambled for an answer the way she scrambled for a brain cell whenever she was with the Hermitcraft boys. “Left looks blocked from here, so…” she started stumbling over her words. “There’s no way left, is there? Unless through the carriage?”

“You can go through the train, probably.”

False frowned, remembering how Dream had cornered her last time. “Won’t it be easy to be trapped?”

“Yeah, but it’ll also be easy to trap others.” H was unfailingly optimistic.

Before False could reply, a horn sounded, and the Blue Bats tensed. They stared at their opponents on the other side— the Aqua Axolotls. This was the PvP team, and the two hermits were conveniently facing Technoblade first again. The first round was about to begin. The Bats gulped, but remained calm.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Fruit said coolly as he readied his sword. “Let’s choose our power ups!”

Each player could choose one out of the four power ups on their wall. False squinted at her choices. The first were four white water balloons labeled as “cobwebs”— when thrown at players’ shoes, they could temporarily slow down the player (but they were notoriously hard to hit accurately). The second was a “speed potion” or a sticker that could be applied to players’ shoes to make them temporarily run faster. The third was a “lingering potion of Instant Damage I”, or a dark purple water balloon. The fourth was a special gun with quicker reloading time, and thus more bullets could be shot more quickly.

“What should I take?” Ren asked hesitantly. “The instant damage?”

“I can take the cobwebs,” False offered, and reached for the white water balloons.

“We should throw the lingering potion at middle,” Fruit commented, so Ren took it and weighed it in his hands. 

Fruit took the gun, H took the speed sticker, and the Blue Bats were all set. When the countdown started, False felt a sudden wave of anxiety rush over her. She swallowed, and tried to move her fingers.

“Someone can take the cobwebs if I fail,” she said.

The Blue Bats were now in second place overall. False could hardly believe it, and she wanted to maintain that second place, but there was that realist part of her that was murmuring, “This second place won’t last long. Enjoy it while you can.”

But before False could ponder on it any longer, the horn sounded, and False winced at the loud sound. It was time to go to battle.

We could be immortals

Just not for long

H leapt to the left train, Fruit to the right, and Ren to the middle. False hovered around H until she saw some Aqua members rushing towards the middle. 

Stop it, False! She yelled at herself. Stop sticking close to H like a coward—

She inhaled, then nimbly darted to a concrete wall. False shot, but missed.

What happened next was a blur of confused yelling. Ren attempted to get to the middle, but he was eliminated. H got somebody, Fruit was fighting, and suddenly Technoblade was coming towards False. But for one instant, it felt like a month ago— False in her yellow lettered jacket instead of the blue one, with Dream charging towards her, and she felt her breath leave her body—

Techno fell in the hole, and False furiously whacked him with a sword. But for some reason, her blows never seemed to hit him, while every one of his blows hit her. Was it due to Techno’s longer arms—

False’s virtual health was dropped to zero, and an exhausted False fell backwards and leaned against a wall. “H-how- how did you—”

After False was eliminated, Techno ran towards the middle. With a jolt, False realized all of her team members had been eliminated. She’d been the last one alive. 

“You okay?” Fruit called out.

False could barely breathe. “Oh my goodness, Techno is a beast!” she blurted out. “What the heck?!”

“We got two kills!” H said cheerfully. He surveyed the two remaining Aqua members as they filled the box with their wool. “That’s Aqua. That’s— that’s the PvP team.”

The Bats were silent for a while. Aqua won the game, and the Bats watched as they whooped. Then—

“I threw the healing pot at them!” H cried out and dug his hands into his hair in frustration. Players could pick up extra gear in the arena, and the healing pot (yet another water balloon) was one of them. “I’m an idiot!”

Ren laughed, more amused than frustrated. “Aww!”

“I killed them regardless, so…”

False was still in shock by how Technoblade had eliminated her. She was at full health and he was less than half when they fought, and she had the high ground, so why couldn’t she hit him? She tugged on Ren’s arm. “I need to find out how Techno got me,” she vowed.

Once upon a time, False would be afraid of talking to 3-A students, but not anymore. She boldly strode up to Techno, who was wiping sweat off his face. Ren trailed after her, not wanting to leave False alone.

“Hi,” False said bluntly, and didn’t flinch when Techno made eye contact with her. “Hi, uh, Technoblade. I… really want to know how you hit me but I couldn’t hit you.”

The rest of the Aqua team regarded False with mild interest. Then Technoblade literally pulled out a whiteboard and a marker, and started drawing.

“I was in the hole, and you were out of it,” Techno informed her. “It’s Pythagoras’ Theorem, basically. The hypotenuse is always longer than the two other sides, so I could hit you, but you couldn’t hit me.”

False nodded, understanding but also not really. “Ahh, I see.”

There was an awkward silence, but thankfully for False, a bell rang, and she swiftly turned away. Time was up, and both teams retreated to the sides. The Bats were guided by teachers to the next arena where they would fight a new team. When Ren and False caught up with H and Fruit, they found their mentors were discussing the extra gear.

Fruit had decided he wanted the gun. “Okay, so what I’m gonna do with this extra gun is to go on top of a train and shoot them there. You can shoot three bullets quickly.”

“I mean, you could instafrag someone right up,” Ren piped in.

“Oh wait!” A look of pure delight crossed Fruit’s face. “This is OP! I have two guns, and I can duel wield these!”

“Niceee.” False knew Fruit was in his element, but it was still a little funny to see the innocent-looking Fruity B be so happy at the prospect of shooting people. 

Their second round was against Yellow. This time, False followed Fruit instead of H and they crouched behind a wall together. False peeked out, and shot.

“RIPmeeks was shot by Falsesymmetry!” a voice boomed in her ear, and False felt herself smile.

“Nice, nice!” Fruit called from her right. Fruit was rushing to get the health pot and probably finish off Yellow.

The other Yellow members were swiftly killed, and the Bats ran towards the middle. “Dead, they’re all dead!” Fruit cheered. 

False started yanking the white cubes of wool out. “Ren, you place the wool,” she called out.

The Blue Bats swiftly shoved their blue wool into the box, and won. “Boom, baby!” Ren called out. “But I think one of them wasn’t feeling well, so…”

False’s heart dropped. It was easy to overlook stuff like that in the heat of battle. Three Yellow members were standing around a pale Mefs, who was sitting on the ground. He was thirstily drinking water in the shade. The Bats hurried towards him, worried.

“I’m so sorry dudes,” Ren said apologetically. “I saw you were standing still, so I shot—“

Mefs gave him a weak smile. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“I… I don’t think this was a fair round. Maybe the points should be—“

“Stop.” Quig shot Ren a look. “You killed three of us, excluding Mefs. You won fair and square.”

“Oo… kay.” 

Ren still looked apologetic, but knew he couldn’t do much about it because he didn’t really know Mefs. The Bats wished him well, then moved on to the third round. Battle Box was a quick paced game and there was barely any time to worry about anything else. False nervously flexed her fingers. 

“We win these,” Fruit said confidently. “Every time. We got this.”

“Oh yeah,” H replied. “Easy.”

They faced Red next, and False shot down both Dang and Philza. H was eliminated by a lingering potion, and the remaining members immediately pounced on the middle box.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” H cheered. “Good job! That was a good team!”

“Boom! We nailed it!” Ren declared proudly after they quickly placed their blue wool. He high-fived his team members, all of them sharing his smile.

“You guys were so good!” H cried from the sidelines. “Unfortunately I couldn’t see the lingering potion in the middle, so…”

“Make sure to look out for dark purple water on the ground,” False advised. “It’s easy to miss it.”

After sharing tips, it was time for the fourth round. “I’ve developed a little route,” Fruit told the other three as they stared at the arena. “I’m not that good at it, but I will be.”

False admired Fruit’s confidence. (She wished she could be the same.)

They faced Cyan next, and both teams were evenly matched. Fruit and Sparklez somehow managed to kill each other at the exact same moment, and they laughed it off. In the end, it was just Pete and False left, and after a furious sword fight, Pete won.

“Nice, good try!” H said optimistically as he helped False up.

“Aww, that was close,” Ren sighed as they watched Pete fill the wool with cyan blocks.

“That was my bad,” H immediately said. H was always eager to take the blame. “Pete just destroyed me and I didn’t do anything to stop him.”

Pete laughed. “False, you did pretty well against me, wanna team up next Championship?”

“Hey!” H screamed, jokingly offended. He glared at Pete. “Stop stealing my teammate!” False just grinned.

The Blue Bats faced Orange next, which H claimed was “Team Hard Work Pays Off”. The hermits’ friend Pearl was on the other side, and they waved to each other before the round began.

“Aww, we were teammates last time!” Ren said, his tone nostalgic.

H huffed. “I’m not expecting you to go soft, Ren!”

“I won’t!” Ren protested, and False rolled her eyes. “Suuure. You still apologize to Katherine every time we face her in Battle Box.”

“That’s because we’re friends!”

The horn sounded, and the Bats followed their usual tactic. After a brief fight, it was only False, Fruit and Pearl left. As Fruit chased after Pearl, False rushed to the middle and started removing the white wool. After Fruit got Pearl, they both dumped their blue wool into the box and won that round.

“This strat is working for me!” Fruit happily declared.

“Niceee.”

Round Six was against Purple, or as Ren called them, “the Purple Onesies”. They were doing fine until Jerome sneaked up behind them and started hitting H and Ren. H was eliminated, and Ren was doing his best to survive. False tried to help, but her attention was distracted by the empty middle. Everything was a mess, and from what she could hear, it was just her, Fruit, and someone from Purple left. With her teammates yelling out “MID! MID!”, False took care of the wool and helped her team win the round.

“NICE FALSIE!” Ren screamed while clapping.

“Let’s go!” H whooped. “Didn’t mean to stress you False, I was meaning for Fruit to go to the middle and protect you!”

False did distantly remember seeing Fruit rush to her side when she was in the middle. “It’s fine! I was like, if he’s on you, which he should be because,” False swallowed, “he knows you’re good at PvP, so I’ll go for the wool!”

Fruit was the distraction. False would “wool”. Everything worked out perfectly. Fruit and False shared a fist bump, and then they focused on their next enemy. 

“Nice, we’re in third,” H commented. “We’re beating Aqua!” That was pretty big because Aqua was supposed to be the PvP team.

Ren glanced at the leaderboard. “Llamas is killing it though! They’ve practically won every round!”

“That’s Dream for ya,” H said. “The rest of the Dream Team is on Green though. Don’t think we’ve faced them yet— ah, it’s Lime Time.”

There was a solemn silence as they chose their gear, then H spoke up. “This team is good. Full concentration time! Big callouts! Listen everyone!”

“Okay,” False muttered, her hands getting a little sweaty. They always did when she had to fight Dream. 

“I’m going to go to the right as always,” Fruit told them.

False wrinkled her nose. “I think they’re gonna rush mid?”

“No, they’re not.” H sounded certain. “They’re gonna take this methodically and go for kills.”

The battle did not start out well. First, according to Fruit, Dream got the potion first, then Dream swiftly eliminated Fruit. Without Fruit to guard the right, Dream could easily pass through and hit False (False was usually stationed at the wall right next to Fruit). False felt something slam into her back, once, then twice, then she was gone.

The defeated Blue Bats could only watch as the entire team of Lime went to the middle and won the round. The Bats had all died, while everyone from Lime survived.

“I did get one hit on Dream,” False said brightly. She was proud of that. At least she attacked back unlike last time in the 8th Championship.

“You guys need to yell at me to load my gun,” H groaned. “I could’ve gotten Fundy and we could’ve gotten one kill… that was my bad.”

“Dream was rocking that double gun action like… a mad cowboy!”

(False privately thought Ren fitted the “mad cowboy” description way more.)

“Yeah, he’s so good with guns. Unlike me,” H laughed.

“Load gun! Load gun, Hmom!” Ren cried out.

“Load gun!” H echoed.

They faced Green next, which H said was “another really good PvP team.” “Get ready!” H yelled out.

False checked the leaderboard, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, these guys are in second place.”

“They’re all really good at PvP but Eret I believe,” came H’s voice.

The round began, and the Bats desperately fought, but they couldn’t win. They weren’t disappointed, but losing always made them a little sad (although they bounced back quickly).

“I got Sapnap, but not quite the rest,” False laughed. 

“Good job!” H replied almost automatically. “We’re done with the teams we don’t expect to beat. Aqua, Lime, and Green.”

“Well, we got one battle left, but....” Ren stared at the leaderboard. “Aqua just jumped ahead. They’re in third and we can’t catch up to them.”

“Alright, let’s secure fourth,” Ren said as their final match popped up. False blinked. They would be fighting against Pink, False’s friends. In the heat of battle, False had somehow forgotten Grian was also in the Championship, and they would have to fight him. 

“Oh, this is Pink. We got this,” H said confidently. “I think they’re gonna bum rush in. Ren, you need to call out if you see it.”

As expected, Pink rush in the middle, and False yelled, “Grian’s in the mid! Get him!”

“WHAT?” Grian distantly screamed from the other side. “Wait— OW!”

Fruit had quickly advanced on Grian, killing him a second time. False barely had time to laugh before she saw someone approaching her. “Stop targeting me, Jimmy!” False yelled.

“Never!” Jimmy cheered just as H came to False’s help and they both eliminated Jimmy.

“Thank you H,” False laughed. “Appreciated that!”

“Just one left,” Ren called out, and Fruit and H rushed after Joel. Naturally, False went to the mid and started throwing out the pink wool and replaced them with blue.

“Let’s go guys, we did so good!” H screamed.

“Nice, we secured fourth on that one!” Ren yelled.

False had to nod. “That was pretty good.”

“Joel!” Grian crossly yelled from the other side. “You could’ve gone to the middle before they did! They were distracted!”

“Okay okay, I’m sorry! But I think we get to be lords now!”

Pink and Blue exchanged some playful banter, and Grian admitted although Pink had lost that round, they’d lost to friends, so it didn’t matter much.

“You guys might get second!” Grian cheered. “Go! Go! Glory for Hermitcraft! Win this for us!”

Ren’s smile suddenly dropped, and False was confused until she remembered hermits could return to the main campus if their team got second or first. Ren didn’t want to leave, so False wouldn’t leave as well. False was competitive, but she would always put friendship first. 

The bell rang, and Pink and Blue said their goodbyes. The teams started to walk back to the Decision Dome to vote for the sixth game.

Ren glanced at the leaderboard. “Y’know, False and I used to come close to last before so…”

“I remember! And look at the teams we lost to!” H gestured at the leaderboard. “Dream, Aqua, and Green. All PvP teams. Those are people we expect to lose to. The fact that we bet everyone else is so good. Good job, guys!”

“Also, this arena is fantastic for Battle Box.” Ren, of course, always had something nice to say about the Championship and Noxcrew. The Blue Bats chimed in with agreements.

As H and Fruit talked about their individual rankings, False noticed hers had gone from 24th to 18th, and proudly shared that with her team.
“Let’s go!” H screamed, ecstatic. “You’re better than half of the participants!”

False chuckled. “By two. I’ll take it!”

“By two,” H repeated, and laughed. “That’s a lotta numbers! Ren, how’re you doing?”

“Oh. Umm. Not great.”

False’s face fell, if only slightly. She didn’t like Ren’s sheepish tone. “What is it?”

“30th.” Ren stared at the ground and looked ashamed.

False gasped. “That’s not bad!”

H was so affected he nearly burst into tears. “THAT’S NOT GREAT?!” He screeched in Ren’s ear, his voice skyrocketing in pitch until it came out like a squeak. “Are we comparing to last time?!”

“Well, uh yeah! Last time I did way better—”

False remembered what H had said to her, and applied it to Ren. “You’re better than ten other people here. That’s a lot of people.”

“That’s huuuge!” H’s voice cracked slightly in the end.

Ren chuckled, and he looked a little better. “Thanks, guys.”

“People aren’t just builders on here, Ren, remember that!” H cheered. “We spend our days training. You spend your days building crazy giant things!”

“That’s true! And I’m proud of it!”

Three games left. The Blue Bats were currently in third (they lost their second place like False had thought. Second was probably too good to be true). Could the Bats reclaim their second place? Could they sneak their way into Dodgebolt? 

Or did they peak at second, and for all the Championships afterwards, the hermits had to content themselves with ninth and eighth places?

False wanted to believe. So with her friends by her side, she did.

I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass

I try to picture me without you, but I can’t

“I think we should get the other PvP games outta the way,” Fruit suggested once games started rolling in the Decision Dome. “If they vote for it, that is.”

“Oh. Doing some Survival Games?” Ren asked.

“Maybe get SG out of the way…? I think everyone’s gonna vote Build Mart or something,” Fruit idly said. 

“Yup,” False replied immediately. “Build Mart is good.”

Once again, the Blue Bats decided to do everything in their power to not let Survival Games be picked. H even had a power up that would allow him to remove votes from a certain game. The first few votes were coming towards Rocket Spleef, and H said, “I’m not against Rocket Spleef, but I wanna kill it.” Although Rocket Spleef was not a favoured game this time, anything was better than Survival Games. More votes were coming in, this time towards Ace Race. 

“Let it be Build Mart or Ace Race!” False declared as she voted for Build Mart.

The Blue Bats stared at the voting results, their faces tense. “It’s gonna be Ace Race— no it’s gonna be Survival Games!” False burst out.

“It might be Survival Games!!” H practically weeped, tearing his hair out. “I should’ve used my powerup on SG to remove the votes! I RUINED IT!!”

Their hearts were pounding rapidly, and False’s hands were clasped together in a prayer. As Ren screamed about stupid chickens and foxes, words flashed across the screen. “Vote tied! Picking a game from the ones you voted for!”

Their anxious eyes were glued to the screen, and they waited with bated breath. And for a few seconds, no one spoke. Then—

Ace Race!

H collapsed on the ground. “OHHHH, thank GOD! I was gonna be so MAD if it’s Survival Games!” 

“Alright, this is my game right here!” Fruit said confidently. “I am destroying this! Here we go!”

“Let’s go!” H whooped, apparently rejuvenated after Survival Games wasn’t chosen. 

“You got this, Fruityloops! We’ve done some parkour practice, so we should be better at this too!”

Fruit glanced at his teammates. “Yeah, you guys will be nuts at this!”

“Just concentrate and ask if you have any issues.” H repeated his words from before Parkour Warrior. “Don’t hesitate to ask if you’re struggling with something.”

“Make sure to go to the right flowers. That’s always what trolls me,” False said, referring to the bright red flowers that acted as jump pads. There was a whole section of them, and Fruit knew they could be quite confusing to navigate. If you took the wrong route, you had to start over again. “If I go to the wrong one, I get stuck in the water. So just try to get those in order.”

“Let’s do this!” H said, determined. “Ren, let’s get you up to 25th!”

“Let’s go, baby!”

“Huh. If I can finish every lap in first place, I can get 500 coins,” Fruit laughed as he read the instructions. “I don’t think that’s happening, but we can try!”

“Getting first on all three laps is really hard though, so it deserves to be rewarded.”

Fruit knew he was the best Ace Race player in his team, and he had to do his best for them. Most of the participants were standing at the beginning of the Ace Race course, but they paused the competition for a bit because Quig wasn’t feeling too well. 

Ren glanced at H. “But they didn’t pause Hole in the Wall for you, H! Geez!”

“I guess it was because it was mid game,” Fruit answered.

“It was mid game, yeah. Anyways, hope Quig feels better soon.”

Fruit frowned at the bright sun above them. “It is kinda hot today. It’s September, but it feels like summer still. Take care, everybody.”

“Ren why did you bring that back up?!” H erupted, but he had a giant smile on his face. “I was in such a good mood!”

“I’m sorry dude!” Ren was also laughing. “But dudes, it is amazing that they have 40 people from all classes playing this, and every event is pretty much 99.9% flawless, right? It’s amazing.”

“Yeah!” “Yup!” The rest of the Bats were quick to agree.

As participants aimlessly wandered across the beginning platform, Ren stumbled upon Grian. “Hey G! Aww, you’ve got a little…”

“A little pink waistcoat!” False finished for him, grinning.

Fruit paused to look at Grian. Grian was indeed in his Pink Parrots uniform, and he was chatting with the hermits. Fruit could hear them talk about how Grian looked like “he worked at Target” and Ren jokingly asked Grian “where are the DVD machines, bro?”. Grian just responded with “you guys look like a biker gang”.

“Alright, what we should do is to…” Fruit turned to make sure his Bats were looking. “See the far right and the far left? Go round there; don’t go in the middle.”

Fruit was referring to the beginning platform with conveyor belts that sped up your movements. There were stone bridges crossing a mud pit in the middle, but there were also two narrow paths to the right and the left. Most people would choose the stone bridges because it seemed faster, but the narrow paths actually posed less of a risk because if you fell from the stone bridges, the mud would slow you down. Besides, less people would go to the narrow paths, and so you could gain an advantage over everyone else.

“So go far right and around and you won’t need to do a jump,” H said. “Also, when you have speed, make sure you don’t jump. Just run over the conveyor belts.”

“Yep!”

“Oh!” Ren was peering over Fruit’s shoulders. “I didn’t know you could go around the sides like that!”

“Yeah, Fruit noticed this the first time he played,” H remarked. “It’s much smarter because you don’t take away the speed boost.”

“Yeah! And you eliminate the risk of falling into the pit!”

The countdown started, and this sent participants in a flurry. They pressed against each other, anxious to get a good beginning spot. 

“Let’s goooo! Let’s get it! IT’S ACE RACE TIME!” H screamed his lungs out.

H’s words ignited something inside Fruit, and he smirked.

Yup. It’s Ace Race time!

The horn sounded, and Fruit dashed off like he was born to do this.

I’ll be the watcher of the eternal flame

I’ll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams

Fruit nimbly turned and managed to get the speed boosts on the far right. After being launched into the air, he grabbed onto a zipline and smoothly sailed over to the next platform. “I can get first place… I think.”

“Let’s get it!” was H’s enthusiastic reply.

“I forget where to go,” Fruit laughed. “It’s been so long since I played this— oh Pete knows a shortcut!”

Fruit trailed after Pete and tried to overtake him. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem very possible unless Pete slipped up. And Pete was the best Championship player, so it wasn’t probable. It didn’t matter a lot to Fruit. Ace Race was quick-paced and fun, and Fruit wouldn’t mind losing to Pete of all people.

“Ren, you’re beating me!” H cried out in delight. “Let’s go! You’re killing it, dude!”

“Toggle sprint technique changed my world! Aaand then I fell,” came Ren’s voice through Fruit’s intercoms.

H laughed. “Brush it off! It’s a marathon.”

“Yup,” came False’s voice. “It’s not a sprint.”

Fruit felt as light as a feather as he soared through the air. This was his game, and despite the competitive element, Fruit felt… free. The wind stung his eyes, but his heart was singing. The speed was exhilarating, Fruit decided, his cheeks flushed with excitement. 

Fruit could see Pete’s green hair flash in front of him. “Me and Pete are dominating right now,” Fruit informed the others. It was just them at the front without anyone else, and it was almost blissful. Until Fruit nearly tripped, and he gasped.

“WAIT! DUDE!” False’s shocked voice came. “I bounced into someone mid air and they threw me off! That was soo bad—“

“Don’t worry about it!”

“I didn’t expect that to happen!”

“I’m in fourth right now!” H declared. “I’m catching up to you, Fruity!”

“Pete has secured first, but I’m getting second I think…” The finish line came into view, and Fruit dashed past it. One lap down, two more to go. “Yup, I got second!”

“Let’s go!”

Fruit was catching up to Pete, and they nearly bumped into each other on the jump pad. They barely had time to mumble apologies before they were propelled into the air. 

False nervously chuckled. “I’m so far behind, it’s so bad—“

“Don’t worry about it! Brush it off, you got this!”

“I know! I’m just a little stressed!”

Fruit successfully ran in front of Pete, and triumphantly zipped through the air. The wind whipped against his cheek, but that couldn’t stop Fruit’s smile from spreading over his face. “I’m in first! I overtook the lead!” He cheered.

“Let’s go!” H screamed. “Aaand I tried a shortcut and I failed miserably.”

Fruit could see a familiar shade of blue in the corner of his eye. “Whoever’s behind me, let’s gooo!”

“I’m in fifth,” H told him. “But I’m not really that close to you, to be honest.”

“There are a bunch of people with me at the back, so,” False said quietly.

“Don’t take any unnecessary risks,” H advised. “Just play your own game, don’t play anyone else’s game.”

“Yup, noted! Just wanna see which people I can overtake.”

“THAT’S what I wanna hear!” H declared, sounding pleased. “More of that!”

“Dang’s with me at the back, so it’s okay!”

Fruit nimbly went through the course with practically no mistakes and nobody in front of him. “First place, second lap! Let’s go!”

His teammates echoed his “let’s go!” and Fruit went off like a rocket again. “Boom!” He gleefully whooped.

“It’s the Blue Bat pressure!” Fruit could practically hear Ren’s smile.

“TRUE!”

“I’m getting ahead,” False panted. “Get outta the way, people!”

“I’m concentrating so hard.” Ren’s voice was strained. Fruit vaguely noticed Ren was pretty quiet this round, and H noticed as well.

“I like the lack of voices, because people usually talk when they have issues!” H exclaimed.

Fruit was bouncing on those red flowers. “I went the wrong way— oh whatever. Went the wrong way and I’m still in first!” He joyfully screamed.

Fruit jumped towards a zipline, but his magnetic clasp somehow failed him, and he fell. As he dropped, so did his heart. “Oh no! My first!” he gasped. Fruit scrambled back to the zipline, but it was too late. Pete had gotten first.

“Oooohh I’m in so much pain,” Fruit laughed to hide his pain. He tried not to let it affect him too much. “Goodbye, first place. I’m getting second though. Definitely secured second.”

“Let’s go!”

“Whaaaatever, Pete,” Fruit laughed as he and Pete sprinted to the finishing line. “Second place!”

“That’s huge, Fruit!” H responded brightly. 

“How did Wilbur overtake me? What the heck, dude?!” False huffed angrily, but her tone soon turned gleeful. “AHA! He fell off!”

“Keep going, boys,” Fruit said automatically, having long stopped caring about how False wasn’t a boy.

“Alright, got fifth!” H cheered. 

“I have to stay in front of Wilbur,” False vowed.

Fruit was closely following Ren. “Yeah, Ren, if you’re on those places without conveyor belts, just jump to make you go faster.”

“Let’s go! What places are you guys in?” H asked.

There was a pause. Then False muttered, “I don’t wanna say.”

“Focus on yourself! Let’s do it!”

“Yeah, I’m overtaking some people now!”

As Fruit followed Ren, H followed False, and H guided her to the finish line. “H-how did I get past so many people?!” False exclaimed as she rushed towards the finish line.

“That’s huuuge!”

“Yeah! I went all the way down to 39th and I came back in 21st! I’ll take it!”

With three Bats finished, they cheered for Ren. (Fruit took some time to complain about his zipline glitch to Pete though, who nodded understandingly.) 

“Go to the nearest red every time!” Fruit called out when Ren approached the infamous red flower jump section. 

Ren sighed. “This is the part that gets me everytime!”

Ren fell, but managed to pick himself up. The Bats called out a lot of advice, but most of them were “take your time!”. The last thing they wanted was to pressure Ren.

Ren zoomed across the finish line, and got 37th. False immediately tossed him a towel and a bottle of water. “Ugh, that was so bad,” Ren muttered.

“That wasn’t bad!” Fruit protested at the same time False yelled out “sweet!” and H let out another “LET’S GO!”. Fruit couldn’t help but smile. They were so supportive of each other, and if one member felt bad about themselves, the other three would drown out their insecurity. 

“That was terrible, I’m sorry guys—“

“Wait. We’re tied for first in Ace Race,” Fruit excitedly pointed out.

“—those stupid flowers get me every time! I wish I could practice the flowers, but I dunno where they are!”

H turned towards Ren, his eyes blazing. “Ren, gimme a quick favour. Do me a really quick favour. You ready?”

“Yep!” Ren was always eager to follow H’s orders. 

H simply pointed at the leaderboard and didn’t say a word. There, in big bright letters, under “Ace Race - Game Coins” were Red Rabbits and Blue Bats, both in first with 3095 coins!

“Ren, do you see where we finish?” H cried out.

A slight pause. “Yeah?”

“We’re in first!”

Ren blinked like he’d just been awoken. “Oh. We’re tied for first?! So my terrible performance meant nothing?! SWEET!” Ren pumped his fists in the air, and was so happy he nearly fell down. His shoulder crashed into H’s, and H steadied Ren with a hand. 

“Terrible performance?” H bellowed. “Ren, get outta here with that!”

“Let’s go, guys!” Ren sounded absolutely delighted. “You guys are so freaking good! And I need to take a picture of those red flowers to figure them out.”

“I need to take a picture of our tied first!” False exclaimed. “This has never happened before!”

“LET’S GOOO!”

“Let’s go, dudes! Wow! That was insane!”

“You guys popped off!”

“Wait.” Ren grabbed Fruit’s shoulder, his blue eyes curious. “Fruity, did you win?”

Fruit exhaled. “Aaaa, I got second. I had a zipline issue, and Pete passed me.”

“Dude, I was concentrating so hard I wasn’t breathing, and I wasn’t listening to anyone, so…” Ren laughed. 

“Thank God I got first for the second lap, because if Pete got that too, he would’ve gotten 500 extra coins for his team, and they would be in the lead.”

The top five fastest laps were shown, and Fruit was on it twice! Happiness bubbled inside Fruit, and he soon forgot about his zipline glitch. It suddenly seemed so irrelevant.

Ren clapped and hollered, “Niceee! BLUE BATS DOMINATION! That’s what we like to see out there, man.”

“Let’s get it! Ugh, Fruit, you bet me by eleven seconds. Son of a gun.”

Fruit snickered, and playfully shoved H. H shoved him back.

False looked amused. “Boys, save your energy for later. And Ren! We gotta take a pic!”

Fruit watched as the hermits positioned themselves in front of the Ace Race leaderboard. They were sweaty and their hair was sticking everywhere (due to the wind), but Fruit had never seen them look so happy. 

“Let’s go!” H yelled. “We’re gonna kill it at other games too, and we’re gonna get first!”

False laughed. “Well, to be honest, I’m pretty happy with our position now…”

H wagged a finger in front of False’s nose. “NO! Don’t be satisfied with that when we can win! Aim higher, Falsie!”

The Blue Bats’ spirits were high after their Ace Race win. And so when they entered the Decision Dome for the seventh game, they thought they could crush just about every game. 

… They didn’t know their worst fears would come true.

And live with me forever now

Pull the blackout curtains down

We could be immortals….

“Alright! We’re 700 coins from first!” Ren whooped. Lime was leading, followed by Green and then Blue.

Fruit sighed. “I’m really worried Green is gonna try pick SG? Like, both the green teams? And they’re just gonna try make a lead from that game.”

“Uhh, the good news about that is that the lower teams are gonna have power up items and they don’t want to play SG. Other than Aqua, of course.”

Fruit considered H’s rational analysis. “Yeah, true.”

“I actually think it is more likely that it’s not picked than it is picked.”

“That’s true!” Ren piped in.

“If it’s picked, we can still pop off, don’t worry,” H said comfortingly. “We’re not bad at any games! We’re not! You can tell by the place we’re in right now!”

Teams started to receive their power ups that could impact voting results. Usually, the worst team of the previous game would have a power up, and a few other random teams would receive some as well. 

“Wait, Aqua was the worst team? That’s a good thing,” Fruit commented.

“But it’s a bad thing they got an upgrade,” H reminded him. “They’re gonna want SG.”

“Green got another power up as well…”

“Yeah.”

Fruit shakily exhaled. “Uh oh.”

“This might be interesting,” came H’s voice from Fruit’s side. 

Just as the first votes started pouring in, Orange dunked Green, and Green couldn’t vote. “YES! They dunked Green Guardians! That’s huge!” H screamed. 

“That was great!” False agreed. “Green is the second right now!”

“Vote for Build Mart or Sands of Time,” H ordered. “We just don’t want Survival Games.”

A chill descended upon the team after H’s decisive words. Fruit dearly hoped H hadn’t jinxed it.

“It’s so close,” Fruit sighed. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen.

H was frantically counting the votes when time went out. “Yes! YES! NO!” he screamed in despair. “It’s a fifty-fifty!”

Fruit clutched his hair. It felt like his chest was constricted. “Nooooo!”

“It has to be a fifty-fifty,” False muttered.

“Vote tied! Picking a game from the ones you voted for!”

… So this was just like last time when it was a tie between Ace Race and Survival Games. Luck had been on the Blue Bats’ side, and Ace Race was mercifully chosen. Back during the Audience Takeover, Survival Games narrowly missed being chosen as well. Fruit stared at the screen, his hands sweating. Luck had been on their side, but had they used too much of it? What would happen now? 

They didn’t want Survival Games. Maybe they should’ve gotten it out of the way in the beginning. But it was the seventh game, the Championship was almost ending. Survival Games was a huge risk. It could change everything. Fruit’s forehead beaded with cold sweat. 

“Oh no,” False sighed as if she had already resigned herself.

“VOTE TIED! It didn’t matter!” H hollered. His face was unusually pale, and Fruit instinctively placed a hand on H’s shoulder.

“Uh oh,” Ren laughed nervously if he too knew the outcome.

Fruit hated how his stomach lurched, hated how he had a feeling the hermits were right. A sense of doom pressed against his chest, and he gulped. Anything but SG, anything but SG—

Bright red words, the colour of danger and pain, flashed across the screen. Fruit’s heart sank. Next to him, his Bats wailed in despair, but Fruit could barely hear them.

SURVIVAL GAMES.

We could be immortals…

Just

not 

for

long.

Chapter Text

Everybody's building empires

Building walls high in the name of glory

SURVIVAL GAMES.

“Nooooo!” All four of the Blue Bats instantly groaned. It was just their luck that the game they feared the most was chosen for the seventh game. Their opponents, most notably the Lime Llamas, cheered in triumph, but their excitement sounded like mockery to False’s ears. 

False instinctively shot H a look. H was their leader, always unflappable and confident, but even he looked hesitant. False gulped. If even H was unsure, how could the rest of the team, well, survive Survival Games? 

False sighed. Well, Ren and her had a good round this time! The hermits had gotten second place overall once, which was already legendary for them. They’d certainly learned a lot, and maybe they could have better luck next time. But it was certainly upsetting that they’d gotten this far just to have Survival Games as the second last game with a 2.5x multiplier. Absolutely pants, as Mumbo would say.

“Argh, it’s game over!” False moaned, her head in her hands. But suddenly she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Okay, it’s fine though.” Even when H doubted them, Ren never did. He glanced at his teammates and made eye contact with every one of them. Ren then nodded, his eyes serious and determined. “We got this dudes, we got this. Let’s go.”

False found herself nodding along, and saw Fruit nod as well. As always, Ren’s optimism was infectious. Courage slipped back to the Bats, and they managed to share smiles.

“It’s fine,” H absentmindedly muttered to himself as if he was echoing Ren’s words. “You’re right. It’s fine! We got this!” H declared. He thumped Ren’s back, proud of Ren for bringing them back up. 

… H had always believed in his team even when his teammates didn’t believe in themselves. And when H slipped up just for two seconds, Ren was there to reassure them and motivate H the way H had motivated them all. It was alright. The Blue Bats had each other.

Survival Games was one of the games that required more time to be set up since the entire main school campus would be a battlefield. Teachers and helpers were scurrying around to place chests and loot. Since the game would start fifteen minutes later, some of the teams were mingling and chatting. False saw Green and Lime laughing and clapping each other’s backs, and she shivered. The PvP teams must be very happy with Survival Games. She heard Dream wanted Survival Games back during the audience takeover, so Dream must be insanely confident he could perform well. And judging by how Dream massacred her and her team last time, Dream had good reason for his confidence. False gulped.

A voice pierced through her spiraling thoughts. “Let’s eat,” H ordered. “We need the energy.”

False nibbled on an energy bar, but it was tasteless to her. She forced herself to swallow, and attempted to tune out the loud chattering of Green and Lime. 

“Aww Dream, wish you were here with us!”

“Nah, they can’t put us together because we’ll be too strong. Like, we’re separated but we’re first and second right now! Dream Team Supremacy, am I right?”

“C’mon Dream, you know you work best with me. I’ll just destroy you in Survival Games.”

“Oh? I’ll like to see anyone destroy me in Survival Games.”

False tossed away the wrapping of her energy bar with more force than necessary. Ugh, she was acting like a spoiled child just because a game she didn’t like was chosen! It wasn’t like anyone else in the Championship would be upset if, let’s say, Build Mart was chosen. Everybody was expected to display sportsmanship, and really, False was feeling a little ashamed. 

Just as Green and Lime’s chattering started to die down, to everybody’s dismay, Stan Twitt came along. “UWUWUUWUUWUW!” Stanley screamed as they waved their flabby little arms. “MY MEOW MEOW!! MY BARK BARK! MUCH POGGERS! YOU GUYS ARE GONNA WIN THIS UWU! ASS GEE MY BELOVED!”

Even Green and Lime, the recipients of Stan’s affection, looked slightly repulsed.

“DT WILL WIN! AND WE TOTALLY WON’T SEND DT TO PEOPLE WE DON’T LIKE!” Stan screeched. “Oh wait… just realized DT stands for both Dream Team and death threats. I-I don’t know what to do with this information.”

Scott took Stan’s sudden confusion over the term “DT” to drag Stan away. Everybody cheered.

The abrupt, unpleasant arrival of Stan reminded False why she was fighting so hard. Stan was a horrible principal and imposed unfair rules on 3-H. False and the other hermits had to prove Stan wrong, and then overthrow the Stan regime. Winning the Championship was cool and all that, but to quote Grian, “It’s all about the Principal.” Lime and Green and everybody else were never the real obstacles. Everything ended up leading back to Stanley Twitt.

False stood up and brushed dust from her jacket. She was no longer scared or upset, just nervous but determined. She was filled with spite to oppose Stan. She and her friends were fighters. She needed to be in prime condition. The Blue Bats would do good, and if they had to go out, they would go out with a bang.

As if Fruit had read her mind, he placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Don’t worry too much. Remember the strategy we worked out during practice? We’ll be fineeee.”

“Yeah!” Ren was stretching his arms (read: flexing the muscles he got from climbing trees). “I mean, we prepared for this! We looked at that hologram! We know where to go! We got this dudes, we got this.”

The Bats silently waited, but they couldn’t help but be a bit intimidated. False did her best to ignore all of the teams except one— the Pink Parrots, the team with her friends. The team that was coincidentally walking towards her now.

Everybody's hanging high wires

It's a fine line, it's an age-old story

The Pink Parrots were a tiny bit disappointed with Survival Games because they were all from 3-G or 3-H and would prefer something like Build Mart, but hey, it wasn’t like they had a chance to win. They just didn’t want to get last and lose their chance at becoming literal lords.

Amidst all the excitement, Grian instinctively felt something was wrong even though his team was happy. Grian frowned and tried to ignore it, but dread gnawed at his stomach. Distracted, he looked up and saw the huge flashing “Blue Bats/ Pink Parrots” sign the hermits had crafted. (It was impossible to not see that ginormous thing.)

“Grian, you alright?” Joel had noticed Grian staring into the distance.

Grian shrugged. “Just… I can’t help but feel worried. Not for ourselves, but for someone else.” Grian sighed, and thumped his chest. “I can’t explain it. It feels like someone’s sending signals to my brain like ‘help me’—“

“Maybe it’s Ren and False? They do look a bit worried.”

At Martyn’s words, Grian raised his chin. His eyes instinctively latched onto the Blue Bats huddled in a corner. And suddenly Grian’s “bad feeling” made sense.

“It’s the Hermit Solidarity,” Grian muttered, the dots connecting in his head. “They don’t want Survival Games.”

Jimmy heard. “What Solidarity?”

“Sorry, it’s not about you, Timmy.” Grian stood up. “Guys, I’m gonna talk to my fellow hermits for a second.”

“Wait! We’re all tagging along!” Martyn declared as he hurriedly stood up as well. “We’re a team; we move together!”

“You just wanna talk to Ren—“

“You’re jealous of False—“

Martyn scowled at Grian and Jimmy. “It’s not my fault Ren is dashing!”

When the Pink Parrots got closer, they could see the Bats looking a little stressed. H was tapping his chin as he murmured words to himself, while Ren was absentmindedly stretching. 

“Hey guys!” Grian waved. “How are you doing?”

Ren glanced at Grian. “Hey G! We’re alright, just a little…” he shrugged, “worried. To be frank, Survival Games was our least wanted minigame. Aaaand now it’s the seventh game.”

“We’re kinda screwed,” False joked. “Goodbye, Dodgebolt!”

“Don’t say that, False!” came H’s voice automatically.

“Yeah. Okay.” False took a deep breath. “We’re gonna do our best, but this game… this game is pretty scary, y’know?”

Grian could see the flicker of unease in the hermits’ eyes. Last time, False and Ren’s team had been utterly destroyed by the 3-A PvPers. They were so exhausted that by the time bullies beat them up, they narrowly won with Cub’s taser (which was against school rules but whatever). False had even collapsed, and Grian gulped when he recalled that scene— blood and sweat and despair— it was like last time when he’d lost him—

Grian inhaled. That was in the past. He had to protect the hermits now. 

“WOOHOO! I can’t wait to play Survival Games!”

“It’s rigged in our favour now!”

The loud shouts made Grian wince. Grian spun to see the Lime Llamas still cheering in the background. He focused his stare on Not-Fruit. Dream had killed False last time, so Grian casually killed Dream. It was nothing special. Grian’s bloodlust was just raging for a bit. Especially after Dream hurt his friends. 

Emotion suddenly overwhelmed Grian and he stumbled forward into Ren and False’s arms. Although the two were a bit confused, they hugged Grian back.

“Don’t worry,” Grian mumbled, his voice soft enough that no one else could hear them. “We may be on different teams, but I’ll always side with the hermits.”

False chuckled. “That’s great, but Grian, don’t turn your back on Pink! They’re your teammates!”

“That’s not what I meant.” Grian sighed. He could feel his friends’ hearts beat rapidly. “I want your team to win,” he hissed in their ears. “Of course, I won’t do anything that’s not gentlemanly, but if anything, you guys deserve victory.” Grian pulled back a little so he could stare right into their eyes. “I’ll pave the way,” he fiercely declared. 

… There must be something different about Grian’s expression, because Ren and False were looking at him like he was a changed person. Then they smiled. 

Ren heartily slapped Grian’s back. “We’ll look out for you too, G!” 

False ruffled Grian’s hair. “Do your best! We won’t be going easy on you!”

Grian pouted. “Yeah, I know, Fruity B has killed me twice already—“

“Aww, feeling sad about that, G?”

“I wanna team with him next time!”

“Just ask him. I’m sure he’ll agree.”

“Anyways.” Grian swallowed, then turned to the audience on the spectator stands. The hermits were noticeable as always with their flashy signs, gongs, redstone contraptions, and Iskall’s cheerleader dress. “See? Everyone at home is rooting for us.”

Home. Saying that word made Grian feel warm and fuzzy inside. Ren hooted in the hermits’ direction, “WE WON’T LET YOU DOWN!”

The spectating hermits probably couldn’t hear him, but they could see Ren was talking, so they waved their light sticks more vigorously. Bdubs was screaming something, and Scar was so excited that he nearly fell down from the stands. Thankfully, Doc picked him up. 

“Hermitcraft! Let’s go!” False cheered. Ren mimed blowing kisses to the hermits, while Grian just jumped and waved. And for a few moments, everything was okay. It didn’t matter whether they were on Pink Parrots or Blue Bats, because deep down, they all belonged in Hermitcraft.

A new voice entered their conversation. “Wow geez, way to exclude your other teammates.”

Grian gasped, mock offended. “Joel! We were having a hermit moment!”

The hermits broke free from their hug to see their five other friends staring at them with amused looks. Ren scratched his head and chuckled. “Sorry guys. We’ll get going now.”

Jimmy nudged Martyn. “Looks like you weren’t included in Ren’s gathering of blond friends—“

Martyn scowled. “Ohhh shut it.”

As everyone bickered, Grian stared at the current scoreboard. Lime in first, Green in second, and Blue in third. Pink could be Lords, and that was really cool, but Blue Bats could potentially win and finally make Stan Twitt eat their words. They could win for the hermits and by extension, the 3-GH community. Everyone would stop looking down at them.

Grian clenched his fist, and sent one final glance at False and Ren.

When Grian said he would pave the way, he meant it.

The first will be last

And the last will be kings

The small will be great

And the great will be weak

Once Pink Parrots were gone, H immediately went into business mode and turned to face his Bats. “So, the strategy we heard is: we don’t go to mid and we go towards the border and loot. Is that what you guys wanna do?”

A chorus of “yeah”s greeted H. Then Ren added, “If possible, let the best PvP teams fight each other and we’ll third party them.”

“We’ll take a normal amount of fights if we can. We’re gonna want to go towards the border.”

“Yep,” False quietly chimed in.

Fruit nodded. “Call out if you need food stickers, armour, whatever—”

“Yep.”

“Yeah.”

There was a tense silence. Judging from the way conversation was slowly dying down among all participants, they would start playing soon. H cleared his throat.

“From what I saw from the testers, a player didn’t go for mid and they had so much food. They just went for the border and grabbed all the chests around there before the border shrunk in.”

“I’ve only played this once, but last time, I lost because I ran out of food,” Fruit supplemented. Fruit’s PvP skills were top-tier, but even he could be defeated by the lack of food stickers. Clearly, healing (and survival, of course) was important.

“Yeah. They give a lot more food, both the real ones and the fake ones. Or at least, they said they did. We haven’t played it since then.”

Fruit hummed noncommittally. “Okay.”

Up till that point, the hermits were mostly silent because they knew they weren’t the experts in this game. But then Ren piped up, “Like, we could also funnel Fruity?”

H chuckled and whooped, “Yeah!”

A smile broke out on Ren’s face. “Just give him all the best stuff! Fruity deserves it!”

H, Ren and False turned towards Fruit with huge grins on their faces. Fruit shrunk, suddenly nervous.

“... False?” Fruit peeped in a tiny voice. The Bats had never heard him sound so uncertain and anxious. “... You’re our PvP carry?”

False instantly made a face. 

“No no no!” H was quick to give Fruit confidence. “There’s layers to how good we are, and Fruit?” H flashed Fruit a smirk. “You’re on the top layer.”

Fruit yanked his jacket over his head shyly. “... Really?”

H nudged Fruit with a cheeky smile. “Of course! You’re our Fruityloops!”

“Awww.” With everyone supporting him, Fruit’s nervousness slowly ebbed away. “Thanks, guys. I’ll do my best!”

Ren thumped a hand on his chest. “I’m support!” he proudly declared. 

‘We’re all support!” H whooped, hyped as always. “LET’S GO, TEAM!”

“Just in time too,” False noted. Other teams started to stand up, and the Blue Bats followed suit. The teachers led the ten Championship teams towards the center of the campus, also known as “spawn” in the context of Survival Games. Because the main campus students spent more time in the campus, they would have an advantage over the hermits. Unfortunately for them, the participating hermits all had a keen interest in architecture and could pick up information easily. Not to mention the Blue Bats actually used a hologram to familiarise themselves with the campus. 

The sun beat down on the forty participants. The game hadn’t even begun, but beads of sweat were already forming on the participants’ foreheads. Each team was huddled together on their colour-coded starting pad. Cameras, whether perched on lampposts or embedded in walls,were scattered throughout the school to track the participants (just like the Hunger Games), so although participants couldn’t see the audience, they knew the audience would cheer for their every move. False and Ren saw Grian give them a tiny wave, and of course they waved back.

False, as one of the more observant teammates, quickly noted their surroundings. Tall cobblestone towers ominously rose in the distance, with smaller buildings next to them. Trees and andesite pillars dotted open space. The walkways in front of them stretched into different directions. Right next to the Blue Bats were sparse bushes, which would be slightly difficult to sneak through. Thinking they should avoid the bushes, False spun and uttered, “Should we go diagonal behind us then?”

“Ooh, interesting.” H’s eyes darted around. “We have Green and Yellow next to us. I’m more afraid of Green than Yellow—”

“Yep.”

“—so we should go behind,” H concluded, echoing False’s words.

Fruit tugged on H’s jacket and spoke up. “Actually, I think we should run through the bushes and get on that walkway. These bushes shouldn’t be hard to run through. We’ll make some noise, but we don’t need to be subtle in the beginning.”

Ren nodded. “I agree with Fruity. These bushes don’t look too prickly, so I guess they won’t get in our way.”

Fruit looked mildly relieved that someone was supporting him. “After the bushes, we then go that diagonal.” He subtly gestured in a direction so other teams wouldn’t know about their plans. “I bet no one’s going to go in that direction because they’ll avoid the bushes, and we can freely loot.”

H tapped his chin, his grin widening as he understood more and more of Fruit’s strategy. “And then we keep going that way! Okay, I gotchu. Just need to keep away from Green.”

“I’m gonna try to loot one of these two chests near that pillar beyond the bushes,” Fruit mumbled to his team.

Ren squinted into the distance. “Where are we going after reaching the walkway? Ugly Cobblestone Tower Number 69?”

(Yes, they numbered the Ugly Cobblestone Towers. No, it probably wasn’t 69, it was maybe 72 or 66, but it didn’t matter much.)

“We’re going for the border,” H answered immediately. “Just like how we planned.”

Fruit checked the compass strapped on his wrist, and helpfully added, “We’re choosing to go southeast. Just loot everything you can.”

Their strategizing was interrupted when a murmur tore through the crowd. Teams whispered among themselves and shot each other looks. Quig was feeling unwell again, and they were pausing the game for him.

“Man, the weather sure is hot today. Lots of people are feeling under the weather.” Ren’s tone was light, but his teammates knew his intention was anything but. “Hmama, you know what happened during Hole in the Wall. Take care and don’t force yourself.”

H frowned. “I’ll be fine! I can take care of myself. I’ll tell you guys if I do feel sick, okay?”

False laughed. “You better!”

“And dudes, remember to stay hydrated. Endurance is the key, baby.” Ren paused. “I hope that didn’t sound like an innuendo—”

A few minutes later, Quig was back on his feet, and everybody cheered for him. Quig waved towards the other teams as a gesture of thanks. A bell rang, and a sudden silence washed over the crowd. Jokes and smiles instantly melted away and were replaced by tense looks. The countdown had finally begun. With anxiety and anticipation twisting in their gut, the Blue Bats prepared themselves for what possibly could be the most important game in this Championship.

This was Survival Games. This was it.

Five.

H thought about the blinding sun, the heat, and Hole in the Wall. Then he thought about his team of “so-called underdogs” and how they were going to kill it at this game.

Four.

Fruit thought about the strategies he’d analyzed, the moves he’d practiced, the fun times he had with the Bats, and the exhilarating memory of bloodlust coursing through his veins.

Three.

Ren thought about funneling Fruitberries and thought about being support. He thought about Hermitcraft, and home, and how far they’d come.

Two.

False thought about how everyone believed they sucked. Well, she thought with a laugh, they were wrong.

One—

Everybody's building empires

But it's our time…

—GO!

The Bats ignored the thundering of footsteps behind them and dove into the bushes, with Fruit leading the way. Their hands furiously brushed past branches and their feet crunched on fallen leaves. Surprisingly (or not), the hermits moved through the bushes with relative ease, and ended up clearing a path for H and Fruit. The 3-A students might be fast and strong, but they weren’t living on a hill like the hermits. False and Ren dragged H and Fruit out of the bushes and they hurried towards the pillar Fruit had noted earlier.

H and Fruit quickly looted the two chests, and as they did, False and Ren carried on. They had to maintain as much distance as they could from everyone. Thankfully, by choosing an unconventional path, it seemed like they had achieved that.

Fruit hastily yanked on leather boots as his eyes darted around. “That was a horrible chest!” He laughed.

“I got chainmail leggings,” came H’s voice from the other side. The Bats carried on, Fruit spotted a new chest, and so False went for the next chest ahead. Fruit eagerly flung open the chest, and his jaw dropped.

“I have a Flame book?” Fruit cried out. He ran his fingers across the glossy, shimmery surface of the book. “Oh my God. That is insane.”

H was amused by Fruit’s excitement. “Yeah, there’s some nutty stuff up here.”

Fire was an important part of attacking in Survival Games. Players could “enchant” their weapons by placing a book and their weapon on an anvil. The anvil would scan the book and apply the boost to the weapon. Fire Aspect enchantments (for swords) or Flame enchantments (for guns) would deal “fire damage” for a few seconds. Although no real fire was involved, and players would feel no pain, the “fire damage” could be stopped if players stepped into real water. Small ponds were scattered around the campus for that very purpose. However, the ponds were not very common, so fire damage was pretty dangerous.

“There’s a chest up there.” False pointed to a tree. To other students, they probably wouldn’t have noticed it, but the hermits (and the creative side of the community) often dealt with foliage and they could instantly see if anything had been camouflaged.

“Nice catch, False!” H paused to stare at the tree. “This chest should be a good one since it’s so well hidden.”

Ren puffed his chest, and declared, “Leave me to it!” Ren swung himself up the tree with experienced moves. False watched him with a proud little smile on her face. Ren had been loyally providing logs for the hermits for a good while, and naturally he’d gotten skilled at tree climbing (especially because the hermits liked to import “custom trees” which were gigantic and had large twisting branches). It was nice to see that they had indeed picked up skills from the 3-H classroom.

“Boom!” Ren cheerfully cried out when he descended, two water balloons in his hand. “Two potions! And five packets of crackers! That’s huge for us!”

“It is huge!” Fruit echoed. “But we need to get going now. Remember our tactics that we agreed on during practice!”

The Bats couldn’t hear any footsteps near them, only the quiet sounds of breathing and chests opening. The team had become slightly separated due to their looting, but they could talk through the intercoms. They clearly communicated what items they’d gotten (“I found some bullets!” “Anyone want a fishing rod? Because I’m no good with those”) and began to distribute the loot. 

Ren was lagging a bit behind everyone else because he had been looting in another direction. He found a pair of iron leggings (nice!) and some stone weapons. Rather than putting on the valuable armour, he hurried towards his teammate Fruit. (Ren absolutely was not kidding when he said he would funnel Fruit.) “Fruityloops, I got iron for you if you need,” he called out.

“We’ll meet up in a bit,” Fruit absentmindedly responded. He was haphazardly stuffing food stickers in his bag.

“Yeah, we’re all on the same path,” False supplied. She spun around just to make sure Ren was there and hadn’t fallen in a random hole a la Scar style. 

“Just loot all you can, Ren. And guys, I have a lot of food, I’m very happy right now.” Although his teammates couldn’t see him, they could practically hear the smile on H’s face.

Despite Ren’s promise to bring him armour, Fruit’s attention was preoccupied with something else. A glimpse of a familiar dull grey near a flagpole— that was an anvil! Fruit hastily placed his Flame book and a gun on the cool surface of the anvil. A metallic ding! told him that the enchantment was a success, and a hole opened up for Fruit to drop the now useless book into the anvil. “I have a Flame gun!” he whispered as if he could barely believe it.

Ren gasped. “Oh my goodness, that is insane!”

Fruit grabbed another book and an iron chestplate. “Now I have a Fire Protection chestplate too.” Upon realizing he’d spent some time at the same spot (which could leave him vulnerable), Fruit hastily looked around and continued to move.

A few paces ahead of Fruit, H leapt off the walkway and onto sparse grassland. False trained her eyes on the big “B” on H’s back. “I’m following you, H,” she announced.

“Cool.” With False watching his back, H took a quick gulp of water, and the two continued on.

While everyone mostly went in one direction, Ren kept on diverging from their path to loot more. He’d declared himself the support and the “storage” of the team, plus he knew he was the “weakest” player, so he should be the one taking risks. Ren found a few chests tucked in a red cargo box and hurriedly opened them (he had to be quick because if an enemy found him, Ren would be cornered and he would most certainly die). Two “speed potion” stickers, some water balloons of damage and an orange water balloon labelled “lava.” The “lava” would deal damage much like the way Fire Aspect and Flame would do. Satisfied with the loot, Ren slammed the chests shut and went on. As he stuffed items into his bag, his teammates talked through the intercoms.

“I’ve got some boots for you, Falsie!” H tossed False a pair of iron boots. False glanced at him, startled. “Oh! I have them already!”

So False quickly transferred the boots to Fruit, and as the three converged near a pillar, they couldn’t help but realize one member was missing. H squinted and the distant figure of Ren came into view. “Ren, stick with us,” H reminded Ren.

Ren knew it was logical to be with his teammates, but they could get a lot more loot if they split. So long Ren had his friends to recall him, they would be fine. And with someone as cautious and as observant as False, Ren wasn’t worried. “Does anyone need bullets?” Ren asked once he caught up to them. 

“Yes, I’ll take them.” So Ren passed the bullets into H’s palm.

“Okay, okay, I think we’ve looted for a bit now,” H announced. Everyone looked up at him and awaited his next order. “Let’s find a safe spot to exchange gear.”

The Blue Bats hurried up a cobblestone tower, which offered them a good view of the lawn. It wasn’t the tallest thing, but it would do. So with all them cramped inside, they went over what they have. Ren in particular was almost eager to share his stuff.

“I have too little armour,” Fruit laughed and gestured to his unprotected legs.

Ren actually started stripping. He passed his iron leggings and helmet to Fruit. “Here, my dude, take my armour!” Ren declared loudly. False suppressed her chuckles. “What else do you need?”

Fruit laughed at the comical image of Ren dramatically shedding his clothes for him. “Oh, I’m good, I’m fully geared up now.” He handed Ren a chestplate and his old leather boots. “You can take that, and that.”

“Oh, I’m gonna funnel you all my good stuff.” Ren sounded very proud of his job even though it was self-sacrificing (maybe it was because it was self-sacrificing). “I got TNT water balloons, and an iron axe—”

H held out a hand. “I’ll take the axe.”

H took the axe, and Ren rummaged through his bag. It was full of goodies like water balloons and stickers. He even had some real food like crackers, energy bars, beef jerky, and bottles of water. “I also have a Multishot book, although I don’t think we have a use for that yet.”

“Cool, cool.” Fruit was nibbling on beef jerky, while H wiped sweat off his face. Ren went around and started putting real food and water into his teammates’ bags. “Hey Falsie, gonna give you an extra bottle of water.”

False was pressed up against the window as she was spying on other teams. “Ah, thanks,” she mumbled, distracted. “I don’t think anyone’s here yet, but I’ll keep on watching.”

H nodded. “Alright, alright, we’re doing good.” A couple of them were in full iron armour already, Fruit had his Flame gun, and they all had sufficient food, be it stickers or actual food. “Stay hydrated. We got this.”

Quite a distance away, the Pink Parrots were huddled around one of the many cobblestone buildings. “Hey, I saw someone from Green here,” Martyn hissed, the urgency evident in his tone.

Grian gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “As long as we stick together, we should be fine.”

… Grian said that, but he knew his team was technically one of the weaker teams. If they were unlucky, they could all be wiped out in seconds. Grian tried not to think about it, but it weighed on his mind just like the idea of “finishing the back of his mansion”.

They decided to enter the building. Grian’s sharp eyes quickly noticed chests hidden in the corners. It was likely that they weren’t alone, and Pink Parrots weren’t strong in PvP, so they had to be super careful—

A scream from Martyn. “THEY’RE ON TOP OF ME!” His voice was so loud that Grian didn’t even need the intercoms. 

“I’m coming!” Grian cried back, his heart hammering in his chest—

“InTheLittleWood was slain by Dream!” The Championship Commentator roared, and Grian’s blood turned to ice. “That’s the first blood!” The Commentator continued with savage glee. “Dream’s PvP skills are astounding as always—”

Martyn was probably screaming, and so were Joel and Timmy, but Grian paid no attention. Martyn was close, so close, and Grian needed to get to him. He dashed up a staircase, flung open a door to reveal a balcony, and—

There.

Martyn had collapsed on the cobblestone path, his pink jacket stained with dirt. His weapons and items were sprawled next to him. Martyn’s arm twitched, then stopped moving. A couple of Lime shadows stood next to him. Grian’s heart stilled. 

“We can take Pink,” a Lime shadow said nonchalantly. “They’re not good.”

And in Grian’s mind, the images were overlapping— False being hurt, Martyn being hurt, his friends being hurt—

So Grian casually leapt off the balcony.

His knees hurt from the fall damage, but that dull pain was nothing compared to the anger roaring inside him. Martyn’s killer, Dream or whoever, was applying a golden apple sticker to his suit. Grian took advantage of that. He surged forward with a battle cry.

Last time, Dream had killed his friends.

Last time, Grian then killed Dream with an axe.

Grian raised his axe.

Thump.

Inhumane strength powered Grian’s arms, and in that shining moment, Grian felt like he could literally do anything. He could murder Stan Twitt. He could snap a god’s neck in half. He could even finish the back of his mansion! Grian was invincible. He was inevitable. Nobody could stop him. 

“GET HIM!!”

Grian couldn’t register how hoarse and mad his voice sounded.

Was it fury? Sadness? Fierce love for his friends? Or simply… bloodlust?

Grian swung his axe again. 

… This team was Lime, right? They had smugly declared to the entire school that they were the “Winner’s POV”. They were in first. They wanted to win. It was their dream to win.

Too. Fucking. Bad.

Because Grian was the Dreamslayer now.

The axe came crashing down on Dream. The red lights on his suit flickered, then went out completely. Dream stared at Grian with his jaw dropped. And for the first time, Grian glimpsed true fear in Dream’s eyes. But Grian just innocently smiled.

“Dream was slain by Grian!”

… And the world exploded.

This is the kingdom!

Come alive in us, gonna light up this whole world!

“Yes! YESSSS! THE MOMENT OF MY LIFE!!”

Grian was hollering in absolute delight. He had never experienced such sheer joy before. Joel and Jimmy were screaming too, faces painted with the brightest grins. But before they could celebrate, Grian ran.

Now, Grian was the predator. Everyone else was the prey. Of course, everyone but his team and his beloved Blue Bats.

He aimed a gun towards Fundy and Tubbo, who were scrambling away after the defeat of Martyn’s killer. “GET OUTTA HERE!” Grian roared like a madman. Behind him, Joel and Jimmy cheered with all their might.

“It’s Grine! It’s Grine!” Tubbo yelled.

Grian’s bullet slammed into Fundy’s suit, and he looked down, surprised. “I’m dying?” he asked out loud, totally bewildered.

“You can take him!” Decidedly-Not-Fruitberries screamed into the intercom. 

“WE’RE GOING FOR IT!!” Grian was relentless in his pursuit. He hit shot after shot, and Lime Llama’s screams gradually rose in volume after they realized how much of a threat Grian actually was. Grian, a builder, a hermit, could be a killer too. Now that Grian knew he had a chance, he tucked his gun away and dashed forward. “I’M PUMPED! I’M PUMPED!!”

Tubbo appeared in Grian’s vision. “I can take him!” Tubbo declared, but words were feeble, weren’t they? Grian swung his trusty axe. Once, then twice, and—

“Tubbo was slain by Grian!”

Tubbo fell to the ground. “Oh my God! WHAT THE HELL??”

“AYYYYYYYY!” Grian screamed for all it was worth. His face was red with exertion, and his eyes were alight with bloodlust. Grian had tasted violence twice, and he was already drunk on it. His teammates were naturally amazed and shocked.

“YOU JUST KILLED TUBBO—" Jimmy spluttered.

“We’re going in!” Grian cheered. He was somehow not out of breath despite running and yelling at the same time. He narrowed in on Fundy, who panicked. Battle cries tore from Grian’s mouth. “GET OUTTA THERE!” 

Grian’s axe crashed into Fundy again and again until his health bars were all depleted. Fundy screamed and twisted his body to escape, but alas, Grian got his third kill. “WHAT’S GOING ON?!” Grian screeched in delight. The roars of his Pink Parrots were so loud the ground was practically vibrating. Grian triumphantly pumped his fists towards the bright blue sky.

Oh, how had the mighty fallen! The Lime Llamas were so beloved and highly regarded by the main campus. They were doing amazing and they were placing first. Stan Twitt was expecting so much of them.

But of course Grian absolutely destroyed them.

The first would be last, and the last would be first. This was the end of an era and the beginning of a new one. And Grian was the proud herald of it.

Who said the builders couldn’t fight? Who thought the hermits were weak and spineless? Who?!

Grian had single-handedly taken down three-quarters of the leading team. And his friends, the Blue Bats, were so worried about Survival Games to the point they literally wanted anything but that.

Well, now they had one less thing to worry about! Because Grian took care of it! The hermits would always look out for each other! Grian triumphantly raised his hands again—

An axe slammed into Grian’s back and he fell face forward, his cheek scraping against the dirt. His health dropped to zero, but Grian tossed his head and laughed. “IT WAS ALL WORTH IT!” He shrieked in glee. “IT WAS ALL WORTH IT!”

Grian’s cheeks hurt from smiling, and his heart was still pumping rapidly. His body was aching all over, but Grian didn’t care one bit. 

He was Lord Grian Dreamslayer. And nobody could take that from him. 

Martyn was dead. Grian was dead. It was all up to Timmy and Joel now. But despite that, Grian couldn’t help but cheer for Blue Bats (who were technically his enemy).

Grian had eliminated one of the Blue Bats’ strongest enemies. He hoped they were safe and doing well. He hoped Ren and False could share the delight he’d just experienced. And he hoped, he so-dearly-hoped he could see his friends in that Dodgebolt arena, raise a middle finger to Stan, and cheekly say “I told you so!”.

“IT WAS ALL WORTH IT!” Grian screamed again, and he could almost hear the cheers of the hermits echoing him.

… When Grian said he would pave the way, he meant it.

Blessed are the bound and broken

You're a citizen, and your faith will prove it

In fact, Grian was screaming so loudly the Blue Bats heard him from their little hideout on the tower.

“… That sounds like Grian,” False muttered, who had learned to recognise Grian’s scream after he tried to tag her and she had her army of cats running after him. “Hope that’s not a scream of pain.”

“Hope not!” Ren said, optimistic. “Grian’s pretty good at this, I think—“

As if on cue, the Commentator's voice boomed, “Dream was slain by Grian!” The two hermits jolted in shock, like they were a tall copper tower struck by multiple bolts of lightning (that didn’t exist yet but soon would.)

“I-I heard that wrong, did I?” The words spilled out of Ren’s mouth. “Dream killed Grian, or is it the other way round?”

“Tubbo was slain by Grian! Fundy was slain by Grian!”

False and Ren stared at each other, eyes wide with disbelief and amazement.

“Oh wow,” Fruit said, impressed. “This is why I love Grian!”

It took Ren a few more seconds to find his tongue. “Grian’s popping off!”

“He sure is!” False chimes in. “That was three kills, dude!”

“Ohh man, he’s popping off!” H whooped. “Hope he doesn’t come after us— oh.”

The Commentator just announced Grian was killed by Sapnap, but they could barely breathe before someone spoke again.

“There’s someone in that building!” False called out in excitement. “It’s, uh, the Yellow team. Which is an easy team, actually. Should we take them?” 

Fruit was already scrambling down the staircase. “Yeah, let’s go! Let’s get our points!”

With Fruit and False leading, the Blue Bats charged. Fruit swiftly shot Meeks from Yellow Yaks, and H finished her off. As H looted Meeks’ items, Ren hurried towards Fruit. “Hey Fruity, I’mma give you some bullets, mmkay?”

Fruit nodded, but they were distracted by False calling out, “Orange across! They’re gonna sandwich!”

The two teams sized each other up for a few tense seconds, but neither made the move to attack. Pearl from Orange exchanged polite nods with the hermits, but that was it. The Blue Bats shot Orange one last look, then hurried into an alleyway. It was better to run away than risk it all just for the chance of getting points. 

As they briskly walked, Ren slipped some BB pellets into Fruit’s bag. “Bullets here.”

“Thank you! Oooh my God that’s a lot of bullets.” Fruit didn’t have time to count, but there were definitely more than ten bullets— maybe even fifteen. “Holy sh—“

“I’m support, guys!” Ren proudly declared. “I’m gonna get you guys geared up! You guys take the bullets, okay?”

“Yup, I gottem!” Was Fruit’s reply.

False spun and spotted two chests some distance away. “I’m going to loot these real quick. Keep an eye out for me, okay?”

H and Ren were busy applying food stickers to their suits. “Sure thing, Falsie.”

As False looted, the other three went through a door in an alleyway to find a small storage room. It was a good place to hide and recharge. Fruit immediately opened the chests, while Ren quickly tore off the wrapping of an energy bar and started munching.

“Hey, hey, Ren, take that!” H pulled out a pair of chainmail leggings. “It’s for you!”

“Thank you!” 

Meanwhile, Fruit had found yet another anvil. He placed another enchanting book and a gun on the anvil, and thus enchanted his second gun in the game. “H, I have a pleasant present for you!” Fruit announced with more dramatic flair than necessary. H took the gun from Fruit, and peered at it. “That’s a Quick Charge III gun,” Fruit continued with just a hint of smugness in his tone. 

The Blue Bats decided to make full use of the anvil. H tried putting Fire Aspect on an axe, but that didn’t work. He sighed and wiped sweat off his forehead. “Does anyone have a sword? Any sword?”

“Yup, here you go!”

Fruit’s voice popped out behind H’s shoulder, and H turned to see Fruit slide a sword on the anvil. The corner of H’s lips quirked up. “Love ya.” H said automatically.

“Anyone need iron boots?” False called out.

H and Fruit responded almost immediately. “Uhh, I’m okay!” “I’m in full iron!”

Fruit tapped on False’s back. “Behind you!” False turned to see Fruit hold up a pair of iron leggings. “Thank you!”

“I have two iron helmets,” H announced. “Does anyone need any? Ren?”

“Yep!” Ren piped up.

“Yeah, Ren probably needs it,” Fruit replied. Ren put on his helmet, and the Blue Bats, now all decked in shiny silver armour, sized each other up.

“Okay! We’re kinda ironed up now!”

“Sweet!”

“Kinda?” H echoed, a grin on his face.

Fruit chuckled. “And by that, I mean very.”

They were all hot and wanted air-conditioning, so they went inside a new building. They sprinted up staircases, flung open doors, and searched through empty classrooms for chests. False got a glimpse of familiar brown, and hurried towards a corner.

Then gunshots.

“Duck!” H’s voice screamed from the intercom.

False rolled under tables and in doing so, she accidentally knocked the chest over. A water balloon exploded on impact and to False’s horror, it was the “cobweb” kind. She grabbed a few other water balloons and struggled to her feet. She could hear footsteps approaching, and her heart dropped like a goat into the void. She dragged her sluggish feet along and cursed her clumsiness.

“Everybody good?” Ren asked.

“Nope!” False yelped. “I got— I got cobwebbed!”

The enemies were coming. False had a head start, but she was slow and separated from her team. She returned to the corridor and desperately spun to find her Bats, but she only saw enemies pouncing towards her, intent on hunting this “straggler” down. False’s blood chilled.

“Where are you guys?” False demanded into the intercom. She readied her gun, but she knew she couldn’t win. It was her against at least four people. False hastily shot a few bullets before she ran.

“Outside the building!” Fruit yelled. His normally chill tone had an edge of panic to it. “Oh sh— are you still inside?!”

False’s footsteps pounded loudly as she tore her way up the staircase. “I’m going up!” She hissed. “It’s the only way!”

“We’re all outside!” Ren cried out. “They’ve stopped chasing us—“

“Because they’re chasing after False,” H finished grimly. “False, we’ve studied this. You can go up the roof but it’s a dead end.”

Cold sweat dripped down False’s forehead. She knew this, but she had no choice. She could either attempt to fight off four people or run. False could only hope someone would die before her so she could get just a tiny bit more survival points. 

False slammed a door shut and continued to run. Hiding was useless because the main campus students knew this place better than she did (even though she was the one studying architecture), plus she would get cornered. Did she have anything?! A few bullets, decent gear, but that was it. 

“Where exactly are you guys?!” 

“Next to the trees! We have a clear view of the roof!” H called out. “Fruit and Ren are preparing to fire from below. Lead them to the roof and get as many points as you can.”

False swallowed. “Alright.” Even her teammates were assuming she was going to die and this would be her final contribution.

She kicked open the door to the roof and panted. The wind hit her face and her eyes watered. Oh hell, what was she thinking? She knew it was a dead end. Footsteps behind her jolted her into motion again. She ran towards the trees in hopes her friends could take them. 

Bullets whizzed past them, but even with help from the rest of the Bats, False knew she was overwhelmed. She stumbled backwards and she hit the railing.

“We got him!” She heard someone say.

“Her,” False couldn’t help but shoot back.

“Thanks for the correction!”

False’s back pressed against the railing. One of her enemies had evidently ran out of bullets, because they switched to an axe and charged towards False-

Once upon a time, False might just as well give up. She’d done that when Dream cornered her in Battle Box. But this time was different. She learned she was far stronger than she knew, and sometimes all she needed was a little push. Literally.

It was probably crazy of her. Full of hubris, even. But that was just the typical traits of a hermit.

“Unfortunately,” False yelled with a brilliant grin. “I don’t want to die yet!”

Mustering all of the strength in her, she did a backflip over the railing— and fell.

HBomb screamed.

False’s fingers latched onto a windowsill and she hauled herself to a safe position. Her intercom was a mess right now, so False focused on herself. She ignored the bewildered “WHAT?!” from her opponents and let her muscle memory take over.

After all, she was a builder. She had a lot of experience maneuvering around buildings. Yes, she’d fallen a lot back at home, but in doing so she trained up her agility and speed. False swiftly moved from windowsill to windowsill, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Hi,” she sheepishly said in the intercom.

“Hey,” Fruit replied, with H and Ren losing it in the background.

“Don’t want to freak you all out, but I can’t climb walls for long.” False’s arms were already shaking. “Where are you guys?”

“Just jump towards the trees. We can catch you.”

“Bad news,” Ren piped up. “I see someone coming. We have to act fast.”

False managed to swing herself up a windowsill, and she squinted at the trees in front of her. The three boys were standing on a net strung between branches, and their arms were all outstretched. 

“We’ll catch you, okay?” Ren’s voice was reassuring. “Don’t worry, Falsie.”

“Take a leap of faith!” H called out.

“This is just a trust fall! Except it’s totally not dangerous!” Fruit cried. “Yeahh…”

They were certainly attracting a lot of attention. False had to move quickly. And if False had somehow survived up till now, why not take another risk?

“Alright, I’m going,” False announced. She pressed her hands around her, then propelled herself forward. Her stomach dropped and she let gravity take its course.

Then she crash-landed on all three of them, her forehead painfully bumping against H’s. Someone (Ren, probably) dragged her upright while Fruit yelled, “Go! Go!”

Somehow, all four of them managed to get down from the trees without breaking their legs and they sprinted for the nearest tower. This time, Ren led the way through a maze of stairs and identical diorite corridors, and they ended up in a small room at the top of a building.

“We should be safe here,” Ren wheezed. “We can see if anyone’s approaching, plus we have an escape route ready.”

“Okay, okay.” H sunk into a chair and massaged his forehead. There was a pause as everyone caught their breath, then H’s tired eyes flickered up to False. “Wow, False, that was—”

“Incredible!” Fruit cheered at the same time Ren hollered, “Awesome!”

“—Terrifying!” H burst out, and glared at Ren and Fruit. “You had no idea how fast my heart was beating! I felt like dying!”

“That was so cool, False!” Fruit gushed. “You just did a backflip like in those superhero movies! I knew you had that in you!” False suppressed an embarrassed grin at Fruit’s praise. 

“Tell me,” H said tiredly, “is it normal for you guys to jump off buildings?”

False raised an eyebrow. “Our primary mode of transport is the zipline. Does that answer your question?”

“Builders are just built different,” H moaned into his hands.

“Oh geez, Falsie, that was just so sweet even if I was screaming my head off. I’m so proud of you!” Ren walked across the room and opened a chest, and his eyes widened. “Ohh, check this out! We got an ice box, my dudes!”

Fruit fell off his chair. “A what?”

Ren excitedly took out four packed sandwiches and four bottles of energy drinks. “We really hit the jackpot here! Ohh man, we have a nice location, we found good food, and it’s chilled? We’re cooking with gas today, my dudes!”

False dragged her chair towards the window. “We can’t let our guard down though. Although we do deserve a good rest.”

The Blue Bats ravenously dug into their food and chugged their energy drinks. Ren even found an ice pack to ice their bruises. False was a little ashamed that she hadn’t seen that; she was supposed to be the observant one. Then again, it was Ren’s job to manage resources. False would watch out for the border and other enemies. H was their leader, and Fruit was his right-hand man and their tank. They worked together like a well oiled machine or one of Tango’s ludicrous but satisfying farms.

Funny. Survival Games was reminding the Blue Bats of Sky Battle. They had won the first round with all of their players alive, with each of them playing the same role. Now, they were applying their previous experience to this game. And so far, contrary to people’s expectations, they were doing pretty good!

But, alas, winning Survival Games wasn’t going to be this easy.

 “Alright, don’t panic, I’ve got something to admit.” H slumped in his chair and put down his half-eaten sandwich. He rubbed his eyes. “I’m not feeling well right now.”

The Blue Bats instantly spun towards H, worry evident in their eyes. H wasn’t in prime condition, and apparently that crash with False tipped him over the edge.

“I know I’ll be fine in a bit, but like you said, I don’t want to push myself.” H pinched the bridge of his nose. “So I’ll be stepping down from the leader position for a short while.”

“Alright, Hmama,” Ren quickly replied. “We’ll be alright.”

H raised up a hand. “I’m not finished. Hey Fruit?”

Fruit glanced at H. “Yeah?”

Despite his exhaustion, a small smile quirked on H’s lips. “I want you to lead for the time being.”

Fruit dropped his sandwich on his lap. “What?!”

Illumina raised his eyebrows at the chain of events. Next to him, the Championship spectators were all furiously discussing H’s decision. Illumina waved his Blue Bats flag with a little more fervour even though the Bats couldn’t see it.

“Well,” Illumina chuckled. “This is going to be interesting.”

Chapter Text

For those of you that wanna know what we're all about

It's like this:

“I want you to lead for the time being.”

Fruit dropped his sandwich on his lap. “What?!”

“Listen, Fruit.” HBomb exhaled, then massaged his temple. “Remember our convo after the 8th Championship? After I cheered Joel on and he got that 1v3? You said something about me. Something about “being good at awakening other people’s potential”. And you know what?” H jabbed a finger at Fruit’s chest, who reflexively jerked. “I see that leadership potential within you.”

Fruit opened his mouth. False stuffed a cracker in. Fruit shut up.

“Fruit, you’re adaptable,” H declared. “You pretty much always keep your cool. You’re good in high pressure situations. You rarely get mad or upset by your teammates. You may be a little shy, but you know what?” H gestured to False and Ren. “You have two incredible teammates who are ready to follow you to the literal end. It doesn’t matter if you make mistakes. If you’re worried, just remember I’ll be there to reign you in, okay?”

The other Bats could almost see the tornado of emotions flitting through Fruit’s face, but in the end Fruit was quick to react. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “Alright. I’ll do my best. But my main concern now is: H, how are you?”

H leaned back in his chair and yawned. “I told ya, I just need a little rest.”

“Can you walk?” Ren immediately asked.

H attempted to stand, but his knees wobbled and he crashed into Ren. Ren gripped H’s arms and helped him sit down.“Apparently not! I guess I’m an old man. Just as everyone says.”

Ren snorted. “If you think you’re old, then you’re nothing compared to us, my dude.”

“H, are you sure you don’t need First Aid?” False’s voice, laced with urgency, cut through.

H waved a dismissing hand. “I’m good. I don’t want to eliminate myself from this game just yet. I want to keep on fighting with you guys! We’re a team!”

Fruit’s mind was already spinning. “If H can’t walk, we need to carry him. One person can carry him on their back—“

“I’ll do it,” Ren piped up, always ready to volunteer.

“No.” Fruit’s usually soft voice suddenly had a firm edge to it. Was it due to the “leader” role that H had given him? “Ren, you’re already carrying our resources. Carrying H will just slow you down. I can do it.”

“Fruit, you’re our fighter,” False reminded him. “You can’t fight well with a person on your back. I’ll carry H; I’m used to carrying stuff back on 3-H.”

Fruit rubbed his palms together. “Yeahh, that sounds good. Glad that it’s solved. False, can you keep an eye on the window? Ren, tell me more about our escape paths.” Fruit was taking his leader role so seriously to the point he was scaring himself a little. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Uh, sorry if I sound too demanding or whatnot,” he chuckled nervously.

“You’re good!” H grinned at Fruit. “Carry on.”

Ren took out a few items from his bag to help with the visualization of the routes. “Okay, Fruity, this water bottle here is our tower. We have two routes from here— go down,” Ren slapped a piece of beef jerky adjacent to the bottle, “or go across using a bridge.” Ren connected the water bottle to a second bottle using an energy bar. “The good thing about going across is that we’ll have access to more towers, and we’ll have the high ground. We can hunt down players. The bad thing is if a team’s chasing after us, we only have one direction to run in, thus we can be easily sandwiched.” Fruit nodded to show his understanding.

“The good thing about going down is that we’ll have access to a lot more areas. The bad thing is that, well, we can be seen easily, but we can always enter a new building.”

False’s eyes were glued to the window. “Yup, Ren’s analysis is correct.”

“Cool. Thanks.” Fruit tapped on False’s shoulder and she moved aside so he could sit by the window too. “Hmm, yeah, I get what you mean. No one’s here so far, I presume.”

“Yup,” False confirmed, “and we’re pretty safe from the border too.”

Fruit exhaled. “Good. Honestly, I think we should go down. We’re not fit to take down an entire team at the moment, so we can’t let ourselves be cornered.”

“Maybe we should stay here for a little longer for Hmama,” Ren suggested. “And besides, I found a lot of cool stuff, and this seems like a good time to distribute them.”

“Sure.” As Fruit took watch, False scooted over to Ren who was placing items on the ground. He laid down water balloons, crackers, bullets, and stickers. “Hey, you guys should take the Swiftness! It’s so OP in PvP!”

Fruit stretched out a palm. “I’ll take one!”

“H, come get a Swiftness too!”

H nodded at Ren. “I have one already.”

“Alright, cool.”

Ren stepped forward and pressed a handful of bullets into Fruit’s palm. “Dude, these are for you.”

“Thank you!” Fruit took out his stash of bullets from his pocket, combined them with the ones Ren just gave him, and started silently counting. “I have half a stack of bullets!” Fruit wheezed, a look of absolute delight painted on his face. 

H might have been tired, but he wasn’t going to let himself be dead weight. His eyes scanned across his teammates, and he noticed Ren was still missing a pair of iron boots. He faintly remembered somebody had a spare pair, but the exchange must have gotten lost in the confusion. “Does anyone have boots for Ren?”

False blinked. “Oh yeah, I do! There you go. Sorry, I thought everyone had one.”

“Thanks, Falsie.”

Just as Ren yanked on his boots, a voice rang in their intercoms: “Border shrinking!” Fruit and False lifted their chins like alert birds.

“Should we go now?” False asked.

“Yup, we’ve been here for a good while.” Fruit kneeled and helped Ren to pack their items. Meanwhile, False let H climb on her back.

“Hope I’m not too heavy,” H laughed.

“It’s alright!” False shifted on her feet as she got used to the weight on her back. “I’m good to go.”

“It’s all about survival now,” H muttered. “Be careful.”

Fruit led them down the tower, with False right behind, and Ren keeping a lookout from the rear. None of them could see or hear anybody, so they were safe for the time being. 

“Our tactic right now is to gear up and run away,” Fruit declared. “Only two of us can really fight. But I don’t know how many people are left. I know Lime’s gone, and that’s great, but I think Green is still alive. And Cyan too.”

“That’s good,” False mused. “You know what? I think we’re already doing way better than they expected us to.”

Despite his tiredness, H managed to grin boldly. “And you know what? I think we can do even better.”

This is ten percent luck

Back on the audience stands, the hermits weren’t really worried about the Bats despite them having a member down. They were all still caught up in the euphoria of Grian killing three-quarters of Lime. Herman Blur hadn’t stopped screaming. Bdubs hadn’t stopped making feral chihuahua noises. 

The hermits were so excited that they made a flashing “Lord Grian Dreamslayer” sign in record time. The hermits’ area on the spectator stands was covered with blue and pink flashes, and Zedaph’s confetti machine was still spitting out confetti. Neither Blue Bats nor Pink Parrots had won anything, but they were already champions in the hermits’ hearts. Not to mention the hermits were clearly outdoing everyone else with their cheering efforts. 

Cub smirked as he raised a “BLUE BATS” sign. Seeing Grian destroy a team from the main campus was so satisfying. It almost made up for the time he and the other hermits got beat up by bullies. And this time, Grian didn’t need tasers developed by super rich people. He did it fair and square. And nobody could do anything about it.

Unfortunately, the more immature portion of Lime’s fans were already whining like their favourite participant had been unfairly “cancelled” over something they couldn’t control. “MY MEOW MEOW IS DEAD???” “omfg who killed dream :pleading_face:” “Whomst the fuck is GRAIN!1!!!1” To them, seeing the Pink Parrots be so lovingly supported was rubbing salt into their wounds. Lime’s fans were desperately trying to wrangle the vocal minority into behaving, but apparently Stan was making the situation worse (as always). And of course, the spectating hermits didn’t give a single shit.

“Woooo!” Iskall screamed. “Grian killed the Nightmare guy or something! FUCK YEAH!”

“THAT’S OUR G-MAN!” Scar cheered. “Let’s goooo!”

“GRIAN IS POGGING OUT THERE!” Bdubs furiously declared. 

Doc had crossed his arms and he looked incredibly smug. “See, this is the power of buff Grian!”

“Hermitcraft Supremacy!” Cub called out.

Herman Blur was trembling in their excitement, with their hands over their eyes. “That was absolutely amazing, I won’t be able to sleep for days—”

Cleo marched over to Herman and roughly shook his shoulders. “Get it together, Herman!” She half-scolded. “We still have one more team to cheer for.”

“That’s right!” Reminded by her words, Xisuma spun towards the hermits. “Let’s direct our energy towards the Blue Bats too!”

To reply to him, the hermits raised their fists and screamed their support. “LET’S GOOOO BABY!” Cub hollered, and the other hermits echoed his words.

No one had really expected the hermits to do that well in Survival Games. Grian, of course, had popped off, and by the looks of it, False and Ren were doing pretty good despite H feeling unwell. Cub was so nervous that he could barely tear his eyes from the screens. He had faith in his friends, and maybe, maybe, they could make history. 

And maybe, maybe, one day, Cub could have his own moment too. 

Twenty percent skill

There had been a shift in the leadership, and everybody could feel its impacts. False was quieter and less likely to attack because she had H to worry about. Fruit was doing something he’d never really done before. For the past few weeks, it was always H who glued them together and cracked jokes that made everybody laugh. Fortunately, they were all now comfortable with each other to the point they didn’t rely on H for team synergy. 

Ren did not think of himself as a leader. Sure, he liked brainstorming ideas and storylines back on Hermitcraft, but when it came to things like fighting, he usually preferred to be the support (unless he had a Scottish accent and a certain blond guy as his right hand man, but that was a story for another time). He’d been the follower to H’s leader, and now he would be the follower to Fruit’s leader. It was simple.

Fruit and False were discussing tactics while H slumbered on False’s back. “I think we should go forward and snipe those stragglers because we have bullets, and we can get points without engaging in close combat,” Fruit said.

“Well, I dunno but we should watch out for the border because it can easily cut us off. We should play it safe.”

Usually Ren would just let the experts do their job, especially when it came to people he respected a lot (like False and Fruit), but he felt he had to say something. “Erm, exsqueeze me? 

They turned to him. “Yeah?”

“You two aren’t even talking about the same thing. Fruityloops’ about attacking, and Falsie’s talking about the border.”

At the realisation, False and Fruit paused, stared at each other, then started talking again— but this time constructively. However, the discussion was cut short when a bullet whizzed past Ren. They all jumped in alarm. 

“We’re freakin’ under attack, dudes!” Ren yelped. 

A team was shooting at them from above and the three hurried for cover. “They’re targeting me!” Fruit cried out. To Ren’s alarm, Fruit’s virtual health was lowering dangerously. Due to all of the firepower focusing on Fruit, Fruit could barely pause to whip out his gun. And False, of course, had her hands full. Ren’s heart lurched, nervous. H was unconscious, and Fruit and False could barely fight back. If one of them died, it would be a disaster—

And Ren would not allow that. 

So Ren took charge. He took off one of his bags and flung it towards False. “Take this and run!” He hollered. Ren didn’t pause to see if False listened— after all, he trusted her. Without the extra weight, Ren ran quicker. 

“Fruityloops, I’ll be your shield!” Ren declared. A bullet dinged on his armour. Ren didn’t even wince. A healing potion was ready in his right hand. “I’ll buy you time!”

“Great!” Fruit was panting as he slapped on a golden apple sticker. Ren grabbed Fruit and they started to run, Ren’s body covering Fruit. Pain erupted all over his back but he didn’t let himself be distracted. Fruit may not look like it, but he was shaken and Ren could tell. “Focus, Fruit,” Ren commanded in a soothing voice. “Focus on protecting yourself.” He leaned down and passed a speed sticker in Fruit’s sweaty hands. 

“Okay. Okay.” More and more attacks slammed on Ren and he held back his grunts of pain. It was all worth it to protect their team’s ace Fruitberries. With Ren’s protection, Fruit was able to shoot back. The attacking team, having run out of bullets, decided to literally leap into action. Their swords and axes glinted. Fruit, with his HP still recovering, instinctively took a step back. Ren shot him a glance. Two hearts. That wasn’t good. 

“I’ll hold them off,” Ren said calmly, almost too calmly. 

False’s urgent voice came through the communicator. “Guys, we’re crouching behind a pillar two blocks away. Run.”

Fruit’s eyes darted between the enemies and Ren. “Sorry Ren,” he muttered, and then he sped off. 

The enemies pounced, and Ren did not falter. Pain blossomed from his arms and legs but he gritted his teeth and stood through it all. He also started to run, but made sure to lead them away from Fruit. He could hear gunfire from behind him and prayed it was from his Bats. His chest shuddered with heavy breaths and his legs felt like they were on fire. 

“Ren, watch out, one of them’s still after you!” False warned. 

Ren attempted a jump, but he missed and his head crashed into a wall with a sickening thwack. He was pretty sure his teammates were screaming but their voices blended into one. Disoriented, he tried to find his balance— oh wait, he was on the floor. His vision spun.

A voice floated in and out of his ears. It sounded like Fruit. That meant Fruit was still alive. Ren’s head throbbed and he groaned. He had protected Fruit. He had done his job. He—

“REN!”

A pair of strong arms lifted him, and Ren blinked. False’s anxious face stared back at him. “Oh my goodness, you almost gave me a heart attack!” she yelled. 

Seeing False made Ren a little more awake. “How’s Fruit?” he gasped. 

“I’m fine, we’re all more concerned about you.” Fruit popped up next to False, the bars of his virtual health rising. “We got them off our trail thanks to you.”

False accidentally brushed past Ren’s bruises and he jolted in pain. Despite that, he managed a smile. False huffed in frustration. “Dude, stop looking so happy! It was terrifying watching you hit the wall!”

“Well, my dudes, I had to take one for the team! I had to keep Fruit alive!”

“Thanks!” Fruit called out, then fixed him with a stare. “But you’re all battered up now! Don’t do that again!” He passed Ren a pack of ice that he immediately used to soothe his bruises. 

“RENPOG!” Came a familiar gleeful shout, and Ren’s heart leapt. “You did SO GOOD!”

HBomb was standing next to Fruit, colour now returning to his cheeks. He was holding up the bag Ren had tossed to False. Evidentially he’d returned during the scuffle. H flashed Ren a grin. “Hmom’s back and running! I’m back in business!”

Ren was pretty pleased with his performance. It was his duty to support his teammates, and he did so by taking bullets for them. His back ached and he knew it would hurt like hell, but for now, he was beaming. 

With H’s return, they became the four-person unit of Blue Bats again. They had survived an ambush, but they somehow came out of it more confident than ever. 

As they moved away, Ren snuck a look at the distant leaderboard. 

Players alive: 30 out of 40.

… Somehow, despite everything, Ren had a good feeling.

Fifteen percent concentrated power of will

Fruit was immensely relieved when H got back on his feet. For one, their team wasn’t at a disadvantage anymore. And of course H could resume his role as a leader.

Fruit didn’t want to show it, but the attack earlier gave him quite the scare. He knew False couldn’t fight because she was carrying H, effectively reducing their team to two members. Fruit had miraculously avoided a good amount of shots, but it was due to Ren acting as Fruit’s shield that Fruit managed to pull himself together. 

So yeah, Fruit was pretty fond of his team. The Bats were awesome. 

With H leading the pack, they hunted the campus for stragglers to target. Fruit took a deep breath. He could do this. He was in his element. He was made for this game. And even better, his gun was enchanted with Flame and he could shoot flaming bullets to deal extra damage. Pretty insane if you asked him. He lifted his head and glimpsed shadows moving behind glass windows. 

“There’s people in this hall over here!” Fruit hissed. “There’s… two Purple people and that’s it.” Bloodlust roared in his ears. “I’m going.”

A voice right next to him. “I’m coming with you!” H took out his gun (the “pleasant present” from Fruit) and loaded it with bullets. The duo then sped off. SB from Purple ran to escape from them, and Fruit’s eyes followed his every move. Unfortunately for SB, they were in a long and straight corridor right now with no hiding spaces. Adrenaline flared up inside Fruit— he knew he got this. The Purple Pandas were panicked. 

“It’s Fruitberries and Dream!”

“No— it’s Fruitberries and HBomb!”

Ren noticed there were some chests outside the hall. “I’m gonna loot these.”

H cried out a final “keep in touch!” before he and Fruit went off. Fruit kept them up to date with his attacks. “I’m gonna shoot SB a flame— shot him, shot him again—”

“I got a shot on him too!” H cried out. Digital flames flickered on SB’s suit and his movements became more frantic. 

“SB737 was shot by Fruitberries!” the Commentator boomed.

“Nice!” Ren cheered. He hurried over to False. “You done with this area?”

False was already staring at the inside of the hall. “Yup, let’s go.” Splatters of orange water covered the diorite tiles (seriously? Iskall would be disappointed). “Watch out for the lava!” she called back towards Ren.

False nimbly navigated past the puddle of “lava” and caught sight of two distant blue figures. The lack of footsteps around False reminded her of something. “Ren, keep up with us.”

“Yep.” H and Fruit replied in unison.

“I’m on my way!” Ren was organizing his inventory, but decided to do it later in order to not be separated from his team. Fruit was busy looting SB’s items. His heart rate was pretty high from all of the running and excitement, and his helmet was getting filled with sweat. He picked up a few pieces of iron armour— good, because he knew False and Ren needed them. A square of sunlight to his left. H had opened the back door of the hall.

Ren caught up with Fruit. “You need some water, Fruity.”

Fruit sighed. “Yeah, I do.” He tried to reach for his water bottle, but his hands were full. He awkwardly tried to shift the armour to one hand, but they were heavy. Fruit giggled nervously. “Um—“

“Here, here.” Ren opened a bottle of water and put it under Fruit’s chin. Fruit tilted his chin, Ren tilted the bottle, and in that fashion Fruit had a quick sip of water. Fruit was too focused to be embarrassed; he was just grateful. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Happy to help!”

“There’s another team here!” H announced, but then False yanked on his arm and forced him to crouch behind a bush. “Yeah, and H, you’re by yourself!” False hissed, anxious.

“That’s fine.” H sounded confident. At that moment, Fruit and Ren stepped out of the hall. 

Fruit squinted, his eyes a little unused to the sunlight. Still, he could see two puddles of “lava” because they were striking against the grey cobblestone path. “Be careful!” he whispered.

H was aggravated and excited. “Aaa, I wanna single that guy out. I wanna— I wanna get that kill!”

Despite the tension, Fruit couldn’t help but bite back a smile. Usually he was the one being aggressive and impulsive, and H was supposed to reign him in.

H started running, and naturally False followed him. Fruit huffed and puffed, his arms sagging with the weight of the iron armour. “False—”

False was busy looking after H. “Yeah?”

“Got you an iron chest chestplate.”

“Oh!” Now False turned, and she could see Fruit carrying all that armour. She quickly took the iron chestplate to relieve the burden. “Thank you.”

“And then Ren, I have leggings. And we’re all full iron.”

The group gathered around Fruit as he handed out the armour. They could have a breather after that scuffle with Purple. Sweat was wiped off their brows, water sipped from their bottles. They had full iron and were properly geared up. They felt a little safer with their equipment. 

False took a deep breath. “Okay, we’re good now. Where is that person you saw, H?”

H slapped a Swiftness sticker onto his boots and peered at the distant buildings. “I wanna find that guy who ran away. He ran— ”

“BIG FIGHT!” Fruit gasped, interrupting everybody’s train of thought. He saw figures clustered together in a grass field and could just barely make out their colours. “There’s a big fight this way.” Fruit didn’t even bother to gesture; he just ran with the hermits trailing after him. He was operating on his killing instinct knowing he had his teammates to back him up. 

H switched targets immediately. “Alright, you wanna go for it? Let’s go for it.”

Fruit grabbed some food stickers in preparation for the upcoming battle. “Let’s clean. A 100%.”

It was a declaration, a goal, a promise. Fruit would pave the way. 

“Make sure your gun is loaded!” H reminded everybody. “I’m loading my guns really quick, hang on.”

Fruit was getting closer and closer to the fight, boots thudding on the dirt paths. His muscles were tense. He could recognize some colours— Green and Orange. Fruit ducked behind bushes and wooden benches, then whispered into his comms, excitement clear in his voice, “They’re still fighting! There’s—  there’s only three left!”

H’s voice exploded in Fruit’s ears. “Let’s go let’s go let’s go— ”

“Yeah, just go!” False cheered Fruit on.

Encouraged, Fruit deftly jumped over a bench and launched himself straight into battle. His opponents might be vaguely aware of his entrance, but they were too busy fighting to care. He raised his gun and shot at a familiar figure— George from Green Guardians. 

“George is one hit!” Fruit announced. “I missed—”

A sudden bullet crashed into George’s suit. “Dead!” Fruit gleefully declared.

“GeorgeNotFound was shot by renthedog!”

Fruit couldn’t even be mad about the kill being stolen from him. “Nice Ren!” Fruit gasped. “You hit him! You killed him!”

Ren noticed his kill later than Fruit did, and while Fruit couldn’t see him at the moment, he could hear the sheer disbelief in Ren’s voice. “I did? I actually got a kill?”

“Kinda stole it from me,” Fruit joked, “but that was really nice!”

Because that was the point of a team, wasn’t it? To support each other, to make up for each other’s weaknesses, to watch out for each other’s backs. 

And now their story was unfolding. Their training was paying off. The narrative didn’t write itself— the Blue Bats had grabbed the pen and wrestled with it to tell their story to everyone. 

And on and on they continued.

Five percent pleasure

Back on the field, there were tall stacks of andesite on the ground, which acted as walls for players to hide behind and shoot. The Blue Bats approached their enemies with ferocity, but they didn’t forget to be cautious. “Don’t get too separated!” Fruit warned.

H jolted at Fruit’s words, and he turned around. Ren was next to him, Fruit was up ahead. “Come back! Come back! Who’s behind?”

“Me.” False was looting George’s items, but instantly stopped at H’s voice. 

“False, we need you up here.”

False obediently hurried forward, axe in hand. She squinted but couldn’t make out any enemies yet. 

“Alright, I’m coming back,” came Fruit’s voice. He’d been at the front, and was now circling the stacks of andesite.

“Fall back, fall back,” H ordered. False caught up to the gang, and they all made eye contact. Good. They were now familiar with everyone’s position and could watch out for each other. 

“Does anyone have bullets?” H asked. “I need bullets.”

“Take em!” Ren slipped a handful of bullets into H’s pocket.

H was pleased. “Thank you, boss!”

They gathered near a tree to decide on their next move. False started pulling weapons out of her bag. “There’s a Fire Aspect sword and a Punch II gun if anyone needs it.”

“Fire Aspect sword?” Ren echoed. “Oh my goodness.”

Nobody needed the Punch II gun, so False ended up taking it. Once upon a time, she would’ve felt like that gun would be wasted in her hands, but with the Blue Bats, False was feeling more confident. They trusted her. She trusted them. 

“Anybody need food?” Ren, the walking inventory, piped up. “Like, real food.”

“I’m good! Let’s stick to the right border.” H gave orders as always. “We want to survive. Survival’s the main game right now, not kills.”

While H said that, when he saw two players, he instantly screamed for Fruit and the others to go get them. Fruit even applied a Swiftness sticker in order to catch up and cut off the path of whoever that was running. Krtzy from Green emerged from the bushes and sneakily splashed Fruit’s legs with a cobweb water balloon, rendering him unable to move. Fruit gasped, panicked. “He cobwebbed me, he’s onto me, HELP—”

“I’m here!” False yelled. She leapt into action with an axe, and together they managed to defeat Krtzy. Fruit looked up with a bright smile on his face. “Thanks!”

False stayed by Fruit’s side while the cobweb effect wore off. Like the strategist he was, H was already planning their next move. “There’s one more green guy. Sapnap ditched the others and ran this way.”

The Blue Bats were hot on Sapnap’s heels, and they found a couple more people in the same area. The place was dotted with tall pillars which were simultaneously good news and bad news (good news: they could hide; bad news, so could their enemies). Calvin from Aqua shot Ryguyrocky from Purple, and the Blue Bats advanced. A BB pellet slammed into False’ shoulder, and she winced. “They have a Flame gun,” False announced as fire damage lowered her health bars bit by bit. She darted behind a pillar to catch her breath. “Watch out.”

“I’m getting Fire Res.” Fruit had that Fire Resistance sticker ready for quite some time, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to use it. “Stay with the group! Stay with the group!”

With that, Fruit launched himself into battle, fearless against the flames, his own Flame gun by his side. Three out of four of the Bats were burning now, the orange a stark contrast against their blue outfits. Fruit traded shots with others and nimbly bounced around to avoid their shots.

False, the only one who wasn’t on fire, had been crouching behind a pillar to regain her health. “If you’re getting fired, stand back.”

H’s red bars were getting dangerously low, and he winced. “I’m backing up!” he yelled. 

A delighted gasp from Fruit. He was making good progress in his showdown against Aqua. “Calvin’s one hit! Aaand he’s down!”

“Calvin was shot by fruitberries!’

H grinned broadly. “Nice nice huge! And I have two hearts, so I’ll be at the back, I need to heal.”

Fruit’s fire resistance could end up being a game changer seeing how much damage his fellow Bats took from just the fire. Ren was moving around in the back, slapping food stickers on his suit. A freshly healed False and a pumped up Fruit moved forward. 

“I have a lot of flame bullets!” Fruit cheered, then realized his blunder. “Ugh— you know what I’m saying.

“I have no bullets,” False found herself saying.

Finnster and Spifey, both from Aqua, ran past Fruit. He followed them. Adrenaline coursed through his veins— this was an opportunity that he couldn’t let go. Of course, the presence of two Axolotls meant the ace of their team was also there— Technoblade, the Blood God himself. A chill went down everybody’s spine upon seeing that flash of familiar pink hair. Ren attempted to lob a water balloon of damage at Techno, but missed. It didn’t matter because Fruit was swiftly advancing. The rest of the team could follow him through his updates in the intercoms. 

“Heal and run at them.” There was a slight hint of urgency in Fruit’s voice. Aqua was pretty strong, and they needed the entire team to be together. H went off immediately despite his health still being in the danger zone.

“I’m going,” H declared. “Don’t want to fall behind.”

“Hit Techno… hit him again… he’s low, H!” Fruit, who was shooting bullets at Techno, could see H advancing out of the corner of his eye. Any moment now—

“Technoblade was slain by HBomb94!”

“Nice!” The Blue Bats cheered in unison. Technoblade had resigned himself to his elimination with his characteristic dry humour. “Yeah, there’s no getting out of that one,” he simply stated.

They went their separate ways— the Blue Bats forward, Techno to the stands to watch the Games. “Lots of teams here,” Fruit casually pointed out as H complained he was missing all of his shots.

“I got two of them!” False’s tone was urgent. “GamerBurry at the back is really low! Get inside the building!”

At False’s words, H and Fruit hurried towards their next target. As H ran past Ren, he noted his virtual health and called out, “Ren, you gotta heal!”

“Yeah, make sure you’re healing,” Fruit chimed in. He sounded terrifically nonchalant for someone landing blows on an opponent.

“I’m gonna get a crit here!” Fruit yelled. “I’m gonna get another one! Dead!”

“GamerBurry was slain by fruitberries!”

“Nice!” Ren cried out in joy.

“Just keep on going.” Fruit didn’t have time nor the energy to celebrate. Despite Fruit’s words, Ren decided to loot GamerBurry’s items. And H noticed instantly.

“Ren, you with me?” H asked. At that exact moment, Ren ran past H, his bag sagging with loot. “Oh, yeah, you are.”

“Anybody need bullets?” Ren called out again, once again reminding everyone of his role as the resource manager.

H spun towards Ren. “Yeah! Gimme some.” Ren obediently did so, and once they were geared up, they went on the hunt again.

“We’ve gotten so many kills!” H whooped. “We’re doing great, guys. We’re in first!”

At his words, the Blue Bats took a quick look at the leaderboard. They were indeed first (first!) with 3450 coins, significantly ahead of Green Guardians in second with 3025 coins. But it was still too early to celebrate. No longer were they scared and cowering behind pillars. No, the Bats were on the prowl now. They attacked and plundered their enemies one by one, team by team. The more people they defeated, the more loot they accumulated, and the stronger they became. Rinse and repeat. 

They could do it. They could regain their previous second place— and get even more.

Fifty percent pain

Jimmy, the only surviving member of the Pink Parrots, had been moving around the campus on his own. His eliminated teammates spoke in his comms about information they could glean from the spectators’ stand. Grian, of course, was still hyper from the thrill of his three kills.

“I can’t believe you killed three of them!” Jimmy marveled. “It’s just weird hearing the commentator announce that!”

At that moment, Martyn warned him about other teams getting close to him. Jimmy tried to run, but alas, Sapnap got him. In his last seconds, Jimmy attempted to throw a water balloon of harming and he hoped it did something. But at least he could be reunited with his friends. Jimmy left his gear on the floor and hurried back to the rest of the Parrots. 

As expected, Grian was in a haze of triumph, with his fans screeching and shoving stickers of golden crowns in his hands. Jimmy’s eyes scanned over the large screens and focused on the one with the Blue Bats. They moved together like a well-oiled machine, impressive and efficient, and when they targeted GamerBurry, Joel just sighed. “Meghan’s so dead.”

“Blue team! C’mon, my fellow hermits!” Grian whooped, and his fans echoed his cheers. But Grian’s friends could pick up a pleading tone in his voice— Grian really wanted his hermits to win. It would be so big for all of them. But even if they didn’t, at least Grian had his Dreamslayer moment which would certainly be the talk of the month, if not the year (and for years after that too, until the forums moderated by Reddit grew tired of the oversaturation of that meme). 

“They’ve got H and Fruit in there as well,” Joel marveled out loud.  

“Yeah, and I know they’ve literally been training for this, so.”

Jimmy laughed. “Ren’s very— y’know, ‘if we train, we’ll win’. And I didn’t think he was being that serious.” Grian snickered at his last comment.

Joel’s eyes flickered to the scoreboard. “Well, they’re doing well! They’re number one in this game.”

“Yeah, all that training’s paying off.” Grian couldn’t tear his eyes off the screen. “Go on!”

Grian’s fans, following his lead, also cheered for the Blue Bats. As the number of teams dwindled down and all four members of the Bats remained alive, the audience gradually realized something was up. The Blue Bats were suddenly viewed as a decently strong threat. More and more people started cheering for them just because of their strong performance. A shift was visible in the spectator stands. Even those who weren’t supporting Blue were looking at them with interest. All eyes were on them.

This was it. This was the beginning of change. And everyone was there to witness it.

And a hundred percent reason to remember the name

Fruit was truly in his element now, and he was practically bouncing on his feet when he observed their surroundings. “Let’s go towards… this way.” He hurried in one direction. “Follow me!”

A figure caught his eye. “Spifey’s alone! He doesn’t even know I’m here!” Fruit whispered. He motioned for his teammates to stay quiet, then he pounced.

“Crit him! DEAD!” Fruit gleefully screamed when he killed Spifey. 

“Spifey was slain by fruitberries! Team Aqua Axolotls eliminated! 5 teams remain.”

“Nice!” H readied his gun. He had said it automatically, but now he realized how many times he said that and how many kills his team had gotten. The number of players were dwindling fast and he knew it was because of them. He could feel it, the tension thrumming in the air, the tides of change— it was happening. They were happening. 

Fruit continued, relentless like a bullet train speeding in the dark. “I’m gonna push Mefs here— hit him—”

“Got a shot on him!” came H’s voice.

“Killed him!” Fruit announced, in unison with the Commentor who exclaimed, “Mefs was slain by fruitberries!”

“The teamwork— I like it!” H proudly declared. “I love it!”

With Mefs gone, Fruit focused on the sole remaining member of the Yellow Yaks— Quig. Fruit raised his gun and started chasing Quig, the rest of the Bats hot on his heels.

“Quig has to be low… aww, I’m missing,” Fruit said oh-so-casually. “Oh, I’m choking today!” (How ironic considering how many kills he’d achieved.)

“I’m loading up my gun!” H shouted from Fruit’s side. The Blue Bats moved as a single unit as they rapidly approached Quig.

“I killed him!” Fruit yelped in excitement, but then the Commentator shouted, “Quig was slain by PeteZahHutt!” “Or… Pete did.”

Several things happened at the same time. Firstly, the Bats realized they weren’t alone— Pete from Cyan was there. Secondly, the border just shrunk, its distinctive alarm blaring throughout the area. Things were getting serious now. “Another team here!” Ren cried out. He held his loot close to himself as he ran for his life. 

“Get out of the grass!” Fruit called out. The uncut grass was as high as their waists and obscured their vision (not to mention they were ticklish). “Come to the road here.”

H then realized something important. “Sapnap’s behind!” he yelled. “Let’s go after him!”

Sapnap. The only member of Green Guardians left. Everybody agreed with H’s decision instantly. Fruit turned around and led everyone back into the grass. “Yeah, everyone run back. Go get him.”

Bullets zoomed past them and False panted, “They’re peppering us with arrows, watch out.”

“Just watch out for health if you’re low,” Fruit reminded.

“Yep,” False chimed in. “Make sure to eat— both the food stickers and actual food.”

The now-familiar stone pillars came into view, and the Blue Bats hunted for the solidarity Sapnap. Once, they were the ones afraid of being hunted. Not just within the Games, but in their school life too. H and Fruit had to carefully maneuver around Stan Twitt lest the tide turned against them, and of course the two hermits had a long history of being looked down upon. They had to hide— from bullies and troll comments and fists and swords. They slipped between shadows and retreated to their 3-H campus to create their own beautiful world. 

But now, they weren’t being hunted. Because they were the hunters themselves.

12 players out of 40. 4 teams left, although it could be considered as three since Sapnap was the only one from Green Guardians.

Surviving wasn’t enough. The Blue Bats wanted to win.

Ren hurriedly slapped on a Fire Resistance sticker, and H and Fruit split up to cover more ground. Eventually, Fruit found Sapnap crouching between two pillars, puddles of orange water around him.

“He’s in the lava with Fire Res!” Fruit chuckled. “Shoot into the lava!”

“Ohh, that is sneaky,” Ren laughed.

“Just spam bullets and he’s dead!” Fruit cheered gleefully. 

Bullets slammed into Sapnap from all sides much like the walls from Hole in the Wall, except this time Sapnap couldn’t magically glitch his way out. In the end, Fruit got the kill. 

“Sapnap was shot by fruitberries! Team Green Guardians eliminated! 3 teams remain.”

With a shrug, Sapnap turned his bag and let his items fall out. “You can’t get them anyway,” he said nonchalantly.

Ren, who conveniently just applied Fire Resistance, stepped into the lava.

Sapnap stared at Ren.

“Listen, Sappers, my dude,” Ren told Sapnap as he scooped up bullets from the ground. “I’m flaming hot, okay? Hot things don’t bother me because I’m hot.”

“Ren’s right, actually,” H mumbled under his breath.

(None of them knew that, but Iskall said the exact same thing from the spectator stands.)

“Fruit, you’ve gotten so many kills!” H whooped. “Pop off, dude!”

“Yeah, dude!” False reached out a hand for a quick high five, but Fruit wasn’t looking at her. Something more interesting had grabbed his attention. 

“There’s a big fight!” Fruit screamed. “There’s a big fight right here!” Notably, Red and Cyan, the two last teams, were at the fountain. 

“Yeah, I see.” H raised his gun. “I’m going in.”

The Blue Bats didn’t need to say it out loud, but they knew. This was it. This was their final act of defiance against fate who’d chosen the game they wanted the least. The beginning of the end was here. 

Fruit swiftly shot Scott, and Ren hurried back to the trio. “I got twenty one bullets from Sapnap’s corpse!” he triumphantly declared.

“I— I don’t have any bullets anymore,” came False’s voice. “I’ll need some, Ren.”

H was the only one on offense right now as Fruit and False were crowding around Ren for bullets. Ren passed some to Fruit and some to False.

Fruit turned to False. “I’ll split!”

“No no no!” False and Ren said together, although for different reasons. False knew Fruit was the better one at marksmanship and wanted to save the bullets for him. 

“I split them already,” Ren informed them. Luckily for the team, he was thinking a step ahead.

“Thank you thank you!”

In the time the three had taken to sort out bullets, H had gotten shots on Jordan and Puffy who were both on Cyan. Things were looking good for the Blue Bats, but they weren’t going to celebrate yet.

“Alright, let’s go!” Fruit cried out as they started attacking again. “Shoot into the group, I suppose.”

As Fruit narrated his shots, Ren pounced towards Cyan Creepers. Somebody tossed a lava water balloon at him but Ren was undeterred. Digital flames licked over his suit, but he didn’t care at all. He was hot, he was alive, and he was unstoppable. A determined Ren swung his sword once, then twice, and Jordan was down.

“CaptainSparklez was slain by renthedog!”

It was chaos in the middle of the square, the stage for the final showdown. There was a rather nicely built fountain in the center (seriously, Noxcrew should just renovate the entire school and blow up those ugly cobblestone towers), and the fountain proved itself crucial because players kept getting set on fire. “Tommy behind!” H screamed urgently as he hurried towards Tommy.

A pellet hit Fruit and digital flames danced on his suit. His health bars dropped rapidly. Despite that, Fruit didn’t panic, mostly because he had prepared for this moment. From the inside of his jacket, he swiftly took out one of the most prized food stickers— a golden apple. “Fire’s on me! I’m gapping!” he announced. 

Golden apples. A coveted item in Survival Games, and a must-have when it came to intense close combat. It could bring a player back from the brink of death. Fruit could feel the relieving buffs of Absorption and Regeneration wash over him. Golden flickers danced on his suit, finally melding together to form two golden hearts. Knowing he’d done all he could with the food stickers, Fruit charged. 

Everybody could feel it. This was it. This was the final stand. No more hiding trump cards, no more saving for later, because none of it would matter in three minutes.

Out of the four, only Ren had applied Fire Resistance, so as Ren advanced, False had to retreat to the fountain to stop the burning. The borders were painfully close now, boxing the few remaining players in. If the players had a moment to breathe, they would realize the eliminated competitors were watching them in the metaphorical front row from just behind the border. People were cheering and screaming with all their heart, and Grian was about to fall over in his excitement. 

Confidence surged in Ren’s veins. It was pure luck that he’d found Fire Resistance, but it was his wits that urged him to take it beforehand and now he had an advantage over everyone. Rendog, who liked to stay in the background as support, who followed his leaders willingly, who was seen as the “weakest hermit”, could be the most powerful person right now. 

Fire enveloped the suits of everyone else, creating a hazy orange glow that reflected on their surroundings. People were screaming and rushing towards the fountain, but Ren felt strangely invincible. Ren was on fire. Literally. And it was doing nothing to his health bars!

… Ren remembered the burn scars he’d gotten from working with fire with Iskall. Back then, his team was worried the pain might affect his performance. Ironic how Ren was the only one who wasn’t burning to death.

So Ren charged.

He charged with a viciousness he didn’t know he had before. He raised his sword and hacked it at Puffy, who was wading through the fountain. H jumped into the fountain with a splash, and just a second later, Puffy was gone.

“Team Cyan Creepers eliminated! 2 teams remain.”

“Oh shit.”

The four Blue Bats turned to the only surviving enemy— Tommy from Red Rabbits. His eyes were wide and glazed with exhilaration, amazement yet fear. Fruit and H shared identical smirks, then pounced.

“Tommyinnit was slain by HBomb!”

And then—

“Game over!”

“LET’S GO! LET’S GO!” H jumped up and down, splashing water all over his teammates, but none of them cared. Fruit screamed and flung his arms around H. “Look at how many coins we got!” he shrieked with unadulterated glee.

False pumped her fists in the air. “Dude, what the heck?!” she screeched, but her screaming was interrupted when Ren picked her up and spun her around. “LET’S GO, BABY!” Ren roared.

“LOOK AT THAT!” H boomed and he dramatically gestured to the leaderboard. “LOOK AT OUR LEAD!”

They got a whopping 7200 coins, twice of second place with 3550. It was staggering. It was unbelievable. It was almost impossible.

But they did it. The Blue Bats did it, against all odds. 

“AND WE DIDN’T EVEN LOSE A SINGLE PLAYER!” H screamed, an echo of their Sky Battle performance. Back then, they also had a round when they all survived— was it foreshadowing for their Survival Games? If so, that pointed to one thing:

The Blue Bats were always meant to win Survival Games. Despite their fears and worries, this was a game made for them. Or rather: they were made for this game. 

Ren stumbled and he and False fell backwards into the water, but both of them were laughing so much that they barely registered it. “Dude!” False repeated, too stunned to say anything else. “What the heck just happened?”

Ren sat in the fountain, water dripping down his face. There was a huge, dumb grin on his face. “Ohh man!”

Then screams and claps.

Championship participants were clapping as they stood in a circle around Blue Bats. Their faces were painted with disbelief, although some did look very impressed. After all, how could a hermit team dominate at one of the riskiest PvP games ever? Seepeekay and Pete were both losing their minds and screaming, “BLUE! BLUE!”.

“THAT WAS NUTS, BLUE!” Joel from Pink Parrots thundered, and the rest of the Pink team cheered behind him.

Martyn cupped his hands and yelled, “That is what I meant when I said why simp for the middle when you can simp for the top!” 

Joel shot him a look. “Did you just call Ren a—“

“LET’S GO!!” H continued to scream as he frantically shook False’s shoulders. Fruit jumped and climbed on top of H’s back and waved his hands to the applauding crowd. They were all screaming with all of their might, fists pumping into the air. All of the blood, sweat, and tears, hours and hours of training, misery and hope—

It was worth it.

It was all worth it!!

“We just popped off!” False spun towards Ren, who was still sitting in the water, and offered a hand. Ren looked up at her with the biggest smile on his face. “Man, I’m so tired, I don’t think I can stand up.”

“AYYYYYYY!”

A new but familiar voice barged in, and Ren’s ears perked up. “Grian!” he and False joyfully shouted.

Grian, filled with hysterical strength, lifted up Ren with one arm and False with the other. Cheers and whoops sounded from everybody else. “I told you I would pave the way!” Grian hissed in their ears, his eyes alight with triumph. “My fellow hermits! You did it!”

“Grian!” Ren thumped Grian’s head affectionately. “We couldn’t do it without you, dude! You eliminated one of the strongest teams out there— you really did pave the way for us!”

“You got three people,” False marveled. “That’s insane. You’re insane!” 

“I guess— maybe I just lost control,” Grian stammered, his cheeks turning pink. “Like, I was thinking of you guys. And how you guys get beat up, whether in the Championship or outside of it by bullies… and I snapped. I had to do something.”

H overheard. “AS YOU SHOULD!” he roared, and everyone laughed. 

Once Grian finally let go of his fellow hermits, other participants came by to congratulate them. Familiar faces swirled in front of them, from the 3-G crafters to Dang to even 3-A people like Technoblade and Wilbur. The Green Guardians nodded with smiles, showing their respect to their opponent who had thoroughly destroyed Survival Games. The Blue Bats nodded back, but they were so ecstatic that they were almost hysterical now. 

“FRUIT! How many kills did you have!” H screamed. 

Fruit was giggling in amazement, his face flushed with exertion and joy. “I got eight!”

“I GOT FOUR!” H was properly screaming but nobody cared. In fact, the crowd was screaming along with him. “How much did you guys get? LET’S GO!”

“Domination!” Fruit whooped, his arms tightly around his teammates. 

False stared at the leaderboard, then gasped, scandalized. “I didn’t get any because I kept getting kills stolen from me!” she mock-chastised. H in particular caught her stink eye and grinned cheekily. 

Ren proudly crossed his arms. “I got two frags, baby, two frags!” 

“UNDERDOGS MY ASS, LET’S GO!!” H thundered. Again, just like the sleeping quote, H had no idea just how iconic and important that phrase would become in later months and even years. On the stands, the Blue Bats fans echoed his words, screaming them for the whole world to hear. Waves of blue flooded the stands, and the four Bats stood in the spotlight, completely overwhelmed by the victory and love shown by the fans. 

The Blue Bats had eliminated 14 players in total. That was 14 out of the 36 they could kill. Fruit in particular had demolished one fifth of the players. They were insane.

The Blue Bats might’ve thought they weren’t supposed to win, but in actuality, they were always meant to excel in Survival Games. They had the perfect team makeup— a careful observer, a dutiful support, a bloodthirsty ace, and a strategic leader. Combined with their training and synergy, they were unstoppable. 

Even with the perception that they were underdogs. 

Even with the perception that they would get annihilated by Survival Games. 

Because they did more than survive— they hunted, they thrived, they lived. 

The Blue Bats became incoherent as they collapsed in a happy pile on top of each other. Out of breath from both fighting and celebrating, they took a moment to drink and eat. “The coins are broken,” Fruit remarked, but he was obviously delighted. 

“That was a big win, guys,” Ren laughed.

“That was a huuuge win!” H’s eyes were practically sparkling with pride and excitement. “That was juicy; I loved it!”

“But dude, that’s the strat!” Ren declared. “You have one guy that gets bullets and stuff, like the weakest player just keeps feeding the other players! That’s how you do it, man!”

Fruit had actually collapsed on the ground in his fit of uncontrollable, pure laughter. “Holy shit. LOOK AT OUR COINS!” The end of his sentence dissolved into giggles. “I’M FIRST OVERALL!”

The Bats looked. In second place: Green Guardians with 16547. In first place: Blue Bats with 20307.

False shot Ren an incredulous look. She couldn’t hide the smile on her face. “Twenty thousand?!”