Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 They lived two very different lives.

 TommyInnit, a rising Gen 3 Youtuber/streamer. He primarily lives on the Dream SMP where he causes chaos among the other players.

 Grian, an old yet famous Youtuber. He’s considered the “King of Building” and has an infatuation with TNT and pranks as he spreads his own form of chaos across the realm of Hermitcraft.

 Both of these players should have never met. They have never had any reason to interact. But that all changed on one winter day. 

/ / / / / / / / / /

 Now Tommy was not known for his foresight. It was no stranger to anyone when he impulsively started conflict without thinking about the consequences. But now, as Tommy stared deeply into the lava that had consumed his disc, he was really starting to regret it.

 Skeppy was unconcerned, laughing amusedly as he logged off of the server before Tubbo could kill him in retribution. Tubbo scowled at the spot where Skeppy had logged off and placed down netherrack to survey the spot where the diamond hybrid had logged off, just in case, he was ballsy enough to log back on.

 Tommy was unaware of all of it, as he continued to stare at the lava. His mouth opens in a small o with wide eyes. His chat was going nuts, spamming F and other joking comments. No one, not even Tubbo truly understood Tommy’s attachment to his discs, and although the Wait disc meant nothing to him in real life personally, it still hit very close to home.

 Tommy closed his mouth and turned his attention to his camera. “Well… I’ll be logging off for the day chat. Go raid whoever.” Tommy slightly winced hearing how wobbly his own voice sounded as he abruptly ended his stream for the day. Tubbo turned to Tommy, clearly about to question him, but Tommy gave him no chance.

 The blonde logged off of the Dream SMP and exited the portal as he entered the portal hub. He weaved through hundreds of players as he walked home. With hundreds of thousands of players constantly flowing in and out of the portal hub, Tommy did not notice a more sinister player stalk him from a distance. Nor did he notice as a group of players dispersed and begun to circle him as he walked away from the busy neighborhood and into a more secluded park.

 With night falling, there was no one in the park, and Tommy had used this shortcut before to get home after spending weeks on the SMP without checking in with his parents. It should have been safe, it always has been safe. So Tommy was unprepared when a mob jumped him from the shadows. 

 Tommy wasn’t completely helpless. The physically 16-year-old streamer whipped out his iron knife and lunged at one of the closer mobsters, only for another to grab his wrist and twist it. The knife clattered to the ground. Multiple players descended on his helpless form as Tommy fiercely struggled against their attack.

 He managed to punch one guy and heave himself into a sitting position but just as quickly as he managed to sit back up, they knocked him back down. One of them pinned him down by his neck, causing him to struggle to breathe. During the entire scuffle, it did not occur to Tommy to try and scream until that very moment. But before he could break their ears, one of the players forced his mouth open as another poured a potion forcefully into his mouth.

 Tommy accidentally swallowed in an attempt to breathe and coughed weakly as the taste of spiders and sugar covered his tastebuds. A weakness potion. He tried to lift his arm to punch the man but he could barely even struggle. He vaguely registered a man speaking as his vision warped.

“Knock him out.”

 A fierce pain from the back of his head was the last thing Tommy registered before darkness embraced him.

/ / / / / / / / / /

 It was very well known to other Hermits living in Hermitcraft that Grian lived on the server. He never left and spent his holidays and celebrations on the server instead of his family in the real world of Minecraftia. Most Hermits summed it up to bad relations, while others assumed the worse. So of course Xisuma was shocked when Grian visited his base to tell him he would be gone for a few days.

 Grian laughed at Xisuma’s body language and gestured to his communicator. “Duty calls. Mojang needs my help again,” Grian remarked with a laugh. Xisuma scoffed and crossed his arms across his chest. “You don’t even go out and that’s all you’ll tell me?” Xisuma jokingly complained, earning another giggle from Grian. 

“Please, it’s probably a server owner thing. Wynncraft probably needs some sort of help that can’t be done over comms,” Grian admitted sheepishly earning a sigh from Xisuma. “I suppose, I guess I’m just a little worried for you,” the moderator admitted, earning an amused snort from Grian. “Please X, the portal hub hasn’t changed in 500 years. I’ll be fine,” Grian dragged out the fine as the server owner let out an annoyed groan.

“Okay okay, I get it. I’ll see you in a few days Grian,” Xisuma relented as Grian cheerfully waved goodbye before logging off and reappearing in the portal hub. Grian hummed a soft tune as he exited the Hermitcraft portal and scoured the sea of players.

 Unlike Tommy, Grian immediately noticed when a certain group of players started following him from a distance. Grian tried to lose them by weaving through the crowd and entering and exiting different servers. Eventually, Grian gave up and simply exited the portal that led to the Mojang HQ in hopes that the people following him did not have access.

 He was not so lucky and he was in a bad place to be at this time of day. Everyone had gone home and the plaza was empty except for the occasional straggler. Grian slowed down for one of his pursuers to catch up before throwing a punch. The man stumbled back in surprise as Grian launched himself with a vicious snarl. The rest of the mob circled Grian and one man raised his sword in retaliation.

 Grian dodged the sloppy swing and wrestled the sword out of the man’s hand. With a yell, Grian stabbed the man, causing him to collapse with the sword in his stomach as he slowly bled out. Unfortunately, the remaining mob did not give Grian a chance to retaliate against them, and multiple men threw themselves upon the builder to pin him down. A broken arm and nose later for players from the mob, Grian was successfully pinned down. 

 Just like Tommy, they forced a weakness potion down his mouth. Unlike Tommy, Grian did not swallow. Instead, Grian thrashed and kept the potion in his mouth as one player gripped his jaw and tilted his head up to get him to swallow. Grian stubbornly refused. The leader of the little group crouched down to Grian’s level, ignoring Grian’s fiery glare.

“Either you swallow that potion or we kill you and go after Mumbo. He’s right next to you in fame isn’t he?”

 Grian thrashed one last time and with a fierce, unwavering glare that promised pain, he swallowed the potion. The effects were immediate. Grian sluggishly shook his head as he tried to pull his arm free. No one in the group needed prodding to knock Grian in the back of the head to get him unconscious.

/ / / / / / / / / /

 The only evidence the world had of TommyInnit's and Grian's disappearance was a lone knife in the grass of a park and the unidentifiable corpse of a man in the Mojang Plaza. Friends and family grieved as search parties were sent all across the Inner Square. 

 Unfortunately for the search parties, Tommy and Grian were way past the Wall and the case went cold.

 Unfortunately for both Tommy and Grian, only one of them was needed. The faction had staked out for weeks in hopes to grab one of them to make a hefty profit. What was done was done, and when the two groups produced their accomplishments to their leader, they were forced to keep both of them, despite the complications that arose because of it.

 Unfortunately for the faction that had kidnapped them, they had housed a very vengeful builder and a pissed off child together, in the same cell.

 Oh boy, there be hell to pay for the faction that had captured them.

Chapter Text

 It was cold. That was the first thing TommyInnit registered when he first regained consciousness. His back hurt from the hard ground he had fallen asleep on. Did he pass out in a cave? For some reason, he felt very groggy and his thoughts seemed to swirl around his head. He tried to sit up but couldn’t move his body. 

 The second time he regained consciousness, he could move his fingers. He grit his teeth and weakly forced himself up. He forced his eyes open blearily. The room was dark with only a single redstone torch to light it up. Tommy rubbed his eyes as his blurry vision became more clear. He was trapped in what looked like a 4x4 obsidian block cell with no exit. He wasn’t alone. On the other side of his cell, was an eerily familiar man wearing a red sweater. Before he could think about it too hard, a wave of nausea hit him and he collapsed to the floor, gripping his stomach.

 The third time he regained consciousness, his head felt the clearest it had in what felt like days. This time he could clearly see the man sitting on the other wall. His shaggy brownish-blonde hair cast a shadow over his piercing dark brown eyes that eyed him up now that he was awake. Tommy exhaled and returned the suspicious stare the stranger sent his way.

 Just before one of them could break the tense silence, the wall to his left collapsed and revealed two enchanted diamond-clad men with wickedly sharp diamond weapons. Tommy flinched when he had heard the pistons go off while the red sweater -he was just gonna call him Red- just looked up with an annoyed expression. 

 One of the men pointed at the adjacent wall. “Stand up and put your hands on the wall. No sudden movements or else,” he warned with a sadistic gleam in his eye that unnerved Tommy. His partner just rolled his eyes. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Tommy demanded, shooting up to his feet only to meet the sharp end of the sword by the sadistic guard.

“Don’t make me tell you twice,” he warned gleefully. Red was facing the wall, although Tommy could tell he wasn’t happy about it either. With a warning poke on his chest from the sword, Tommy reluctantly faced the wall.

 Tommy watched the calmer guard frisk Red and open his inventory forcefully with a clearly tampered communicator. “He’s clean,” the calm guard stated, closing the inventory. The second Tommy felt a rough hand grab his shoulder, he exploded with rage. “Get your fucking hands off of me!” Tommy snarled as he turned around to face the insane sadistic guard and attempted to punch him.

 Tommy’s fist bounced off the chestplate and inflicted damage due to its thorns properties. He winced at the cuts on his knuckles before the sadistic guard tackled him to the ground. Tommy let out a string of curses and slurs that would have gotten him grounded for decades had his parents overheard him.

 “Brat,” the sadistic guard hissed, pinning Tommy down with his legs. The guard forced his jaw open and grabbed his tongue. “Perhaps cutting off your tongue would teach you some manners.” Tommy’s eyes widened as all of his anger drained away into fear. He heard the calm guard let out a deep sigh as if this was a common occurrence. “I’m not covering for your ass if you get in trouble for this. The boss will kill us if he gets injured,” the calm guard warned. “Oh please,” the sadistic guard retorted, pressing his sword down over the muscle. “I doubt he’d mind if we rough him up just a little.” Due to its sharpness enchant, it cut pretty deep despite the man not pressing down as hard as he could. Tommy could taste blood as it dripped out of his mouth and onto the floor. 

 Before the calm guard could say anything, a blur of red tackled the sadistic guard off of him. Tommy’s eyes widened as he scrambled away as Red wrestled the sadistic guard to the ground. Red pulled the sadistic guard’s chestplate up before slamming him down so hard that his helmet cracked. The calm guard ran toward Red with his sword yet Red somehow had the reaction time to grab the sadistic guard’s helmet and chuck it at the calm guard. The helmet hit him square in the face and caused him to fall on his back. Red shot up to his feet and dashed right out of the cell and into the hallway.

 This all happened in seconds, and before Tommy could come to his senses and follow him, the calm guard pinned him to the ground. The calm guard was swearing under his breath as he brought his communicator up to his mouth. “We got a runner in the right-wing cell block. He’s headed toward the exit,” he reported into his communicator as Tommy spat out congregating blood in his mouth.

 The calm guard pitifully glanced down at Tommy. “We could use a health pot down here as well,” he added on. Tommy could hear shouts and different sounds of boots throughout the base as Red gave them a run for their money. Another guard poked her head through the doorway and tossed the calm guard a health potion. To Tommy’s surprise, the guard gave him the potion.

“I wouldn’t drink all of it in one go, not everyone is as understanding over attempts at breaking out like me,” the calm guard warned, as he used his communicator to scan Tommy’s empty inventory before getting off of him. He walked over to the unconscious sadistic guard and heaved him over his shoulder. “Those potions are worth diamonds down here, especially since half of the guards are fucked up in the head like this bastard,” he added as he exited the cell.

 The obsidian wall fell back into place, and the room was dark again, save for the redstone torch giving off little light. Tommy stared at the potion in his hands before carefully uncorking the top. He took the guard’s warning to heart and only took a few drops, leaving the substance to sit in his mouth to let the magical properties do their work. 

 It definitely wouldn’t be as instantaneous as a full potion, but Tommy figured he wasn’t in a rush. His tongue grew numb as the substance stitched the muscle back together. It would scar because of the slow process. Tommy couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like as he ignored the emptiness in his stomach. He wasn’t hungry per se, so that told him his health had taken a beating and he needed to eat to kick in the natural regeneration players had. 

/ / / / / / / / / /

“Stand up and put your hands on the wall. No sudden movements or else.”

 This wasn’t Grian’s first time tangling with factions from the Outer Square. In fact, Grian had lived out here lawless and alone before he had settled down with a build team in the Inner Square. But that was centuries ago, back when the Outer Square factions were just starting out. This wasn’t his first time out here, nor was it his first time in a prison run by enemy factions. But usually, it was because he was a prisoner of war. Not because he was worth money.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

 That kid was going to get himself killed. A bright blue-eyed blonde teen with a red and white t-shirt and tan cargo pants who had clearly never left the Inner Square or even his home server in his entire life. Grian glared at the sadistic guard that threatened the kid.

 That kid didn’t know the ropes, he didn’t understand the culture. Out here, respect was given, no matter how fucked up in the head you were or acted. But you don’t cower the second the odds aren’t in your favor. It was a tedious balance that could only truly be learned through trial and error. But down here was the last place the kid should test the dangerous waters.

 Grian eyed the calm guard warily as he placed his hands against the wall, ignoring the prickling sensation of his exposed back. He hoped the kid would follow his example and not die from his stubborn attitude. He was relieved to see the kid copy him, and sent a warning glare toward the sadistic guard, hoping to goad him into a confrontation so he would frisk him instead of the kid.

 Unluckily, the clearly sane and bored guard calmly frisked him instead. Grian watched as his empty inventory was shown to the world via a hacked communicator before the calm guard stepped away.

 “He’s clean.”

 Of course, he was. They even took his communicator off of him. Fat chance it would help any of them though. The GPS feature only worked in the Inner Square. Something about the signals being too weak out here due to the anarchy and big ruins out in the Outer Square, interfering. Mumbo would probably know more about it than him.

“Get your fucking hands off of me!”

 Grian internally facepalmed. That kid was going to get himself killed. The kid threw a punch at the sadistic guard’s chestplate (is he an idiot?) and recoiled from the pain of the thorn’s enchantment. In seconds he had the kid pinned down with his sword hovering over his face. Grian couldn’t really tell what the sadist was doing until he heard the threat.

“Perhaps cutting off your tongue would teach you some manners.”

 Now Grian was having a moral dilemma. Will he help the kid and risk his own hide, or will he bide for time and escape quicker and probably easier? The kid reminded him of his younger self, swears and everything. If he escaped and teleported back into the Inner Square alone, he’d never forgive himself for leaving the kid here to die. They’d kill him for his permanent silence. But he can’t teleport anyone besides himself. He’d be out here longer.

 Ah, screw it.

 Grian elbowed the calm guard in the face before tackling the sadistic guard off of the kid. The guard grabbed Grian’s sweater but the dark blonde didn’t give the guard a chance to retaliate any further. He grabbed the chestplate and slammed his body down so hard that his diamond helmet cracked. Grian heard the swish of a sword and instinctively grabbed the helmet off of the unconscious sadistic guard before chucking it at the calm guard.

 The helmet hit the calm guard in the face and he fell on his back in a seeming daze. Grian didn’t hesitate. This was his chance to find the exit and try to escape. He dashed out of the cell and headed left, instinctively knowing that heading right would simply lead to a dead end. 

 Grian could hear the distant pounding of multiple footsteps and angry/panicked voices. As he ran past the less guarded cells that only had iron bars and doors instead of obsidian, he could hear the prisoners hoot and holler and cheer for his escape. Grian couldn’t hide his grin as he raced past them. It was just like old times.

 The first guard that Grian came across didn’t even register his approaching presence until Grian stole his diamond sword right out of his own hand. Grian laughed mockingly as he leaned out of the way of a weakness arrow aimed right at his head. More shouts joined the guard he stole as they chased him through the Faction base.

 Grian ran past the armory and a few living quarters before he ran across another group of guards. This time, he wouldn’t be able to simply barrel past them. They readied their swords and one of them loaded his crossbow. They were clearly expecting him to slash one down in an attempt to run past. 

 Instead, Grian simply jumped onto the right wall of the hallway and bounced off of it, landing behind them without a single scratch on either of them. A couple of shouts of surprise as well as grunts of anger when the initial group barreled through them. Sure enough, Grian could hear the clang of metal as part of the initial group began to fight the second one. As unified as some of these anarchist factions could be, for example, 2b2t, infighting was very common.

 Grian raced around another corner before stopping dead in his tracks. Sure enough, the exit was right there, unguarded. He could smell the fresh air and he could see the bright blue sky. For a moment, he hesitated. He could easily escape now, and he had a weapon to get him by on the off chance he ran into a group of hackers. On the other hand, the kid was still trapped.

 He was already this far in, he wasn’t gonna back out now. Looking around him, he could see a few iron doors with leavers attached beside them. The pounding footsteps of his pursuers, after finally resolving their little spat, were coming ever closer. With practice ease, Grian used his sword to break the lever off of the door and into his inventory before he started to run again. The natural light disappeared the further down the hallway he ran until it disappeared from his sight completely.

 A few more twists and turns and Grian stumbled upon another vault and more living quarters. This time, at least ten players were chilling in a single area, and with the guards chasing him from behind, he was boxed in. Grian let out an annoyed huff as he readied his sword once the new group noticed him and charged.

 He whacked the back of a young teen’s head with the blunt side of the sword, before parrying the sword of an older man. Someone punched his lower jaw but Grian simply spat in their direction. He tripped another and punched the older man in retaliation but quickly grew overwhelmed. The area was small, he was surrounded by at least fifteen people. He was outmatched compared to their enchanted diamond armor and weapons. 

 They quickly subdued him and took away his sword, unaware of the lever still hidden in his inventory.

/ / / / / / / / / /

 It felt like hours to Tommy before the obsidian wall fell. His tongue was achy instead of numb but at least it wasn’t bleeding anymore! Tommy blinked in surprise as he watched two guards drag the half-conscious Red through the door before dropping him like a sack of potatoes. The wall closed and left them in dim darkness.

 For a second, Tommy thought Red was unconscious or even dead, but the man managed to sit up. He looked like shit to put it nicely. His jaw was bruised and he had dried blood dribbling down his mouth, and that’s what Tommy could visibly see.

“You are an idiot, you know that?” A familiar British voice grumbled as Red glared at him with his dark brown eyes. “Trying to antagonize a less than sane guard, are you trying to get maimed?” Tommy could compare Red’s anger to Philza’s and MotherInnit’s tone when they scolded him for his poorer choices in life. But this scolding reminded him more of Wilbur after he crossed a boundary, which both pissed him off and made him sad.

 Red let out an annoyed huff before softening his gaze. “Are you at least okay?” He asked gently, catching Tommy off guard. “I think so,” Tommy managed to say, drumming his fingers nervously over the obsidian. His tongue still hurt and he was afraid of tearing the cut open again by speaking.

“What’s your name?” Red prodded. Tommy was slightly annoyed at the questions, not wanting to tear his cut open and waste the health potion generously given to him by a kinder guard, but the question was warranted to be fair. Red practically tackled the guard who tried to cut off his tongue and almost caused a prison break which was kind of cool. Tommy owed him a few answers at least.

“Tommy,” Tommy replied, sticking his tongue out and pointing to it, hoping Red would understand. “Oh your tongue, I forgot about that,” Red replied, sounding a bit sheepish. “My name is Grian, its a shame we had to meet in such terrible circumstances though.” Tommy paled slightly. Out of everyone he could have embarrassed himself in front of, and almost died in front of, was the most famous builder in Minecraftia, even outside of YouTube. If he had a hammer on him, he would have whacked himself with it.

 Realizing that he had kinda left Grian hanging, he nodded in reply. Grian chuckled, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Just some advice kid, most people living in the Outer Square are less than sane and have morals that would make the guard that tried to cut off your tongue look like a kind man.” Tommy swallowed. “Anyway,” Grian continued as if he hadn’t freaked Tommy out. “I have a plan but I’m gonna need to wait until I heal a bit more.”

 Tommy hesitated before offering Grian the rest of his health potion. He had only taken a sip to heal his tongue and Grian sounded like he needed it more than he did. Grian let out an audible gasp eyeing Tommy uncertainly. “Are you sure? Your tongue could probably use more than a sip if you want it to heal faster.” Tommy rolled his eyes and took another small sip before handing Grian the rest of the potion.

“Thanks, Tommy,” Grian said earnestly. He calmly lifted his red sweater to reveal a really nasty bruise on his stomach that was already turning purple. Tommy winced as he watched Grian clench his fist as he dropped a few drops onto his skin before rubbing it in. Tommy watched in awe as the bruise slowly began to lose its color. Grian drank most of the potion, the bruise on his jaw also began to lose most of its color. Grian held out the remaining few drops of the potion before placing it into his inventory.

“Insurance you know, for if either of us gets injured again,” Grian commented, seeing Tommy’s confused expression after Grian didn’t drink the rest of the potion. “Although I doubt it’d do much for a nasty laceration or broken bone,” Grian muttered as an afterthought as he brushed his hand through his hair in what Tommy assumed was a nervous tick. 

 Grian glanced back at him. “You should rest the best you can. I can wake you up when they bring food,” he offered with a soft smile. Tommy nodded in agreement as he leaned against the obsidian wall in an attempt to get comfortable. Despite not even waking up a few hours ago, today's events had exhausted him. He had almost died. He was almost permanently maimed. Had Grian not attacked the sadistic guard, he would have probably lost his tongue. He would have lost his ability to talk. 

That thought bothered him more than he would ever want to admit.

/ / / / / / / / / /

 It had been a few days (at least he assumes it's been a few days) and they had done nothing but sit in a 4x4 box (Tommy was not claustrophobic but this was definitely pushing his limits) and wait for the measly food that came two times a day. They only got two raw potatoes or carrots each and Grian always gave Tommy his second piece, assuring the blonde teen that he didn’t need it. 

 But my god was Tommy bored out of his mind. His tongue had kept any conversation with Grian brief and unfulfilling, but today he was feeling better. He could feel the scarred tissue on his tongue and knew that the probability of it tearing was quite low thanks to the potion a few days prior. He turned to look at Grian, who looked equally just as bored.

“So how did you get kidnapped?” Tommy casually asked Grian, who was staring at the obsidian ceiling. Grian raised an eyebrow as he glanced back at Tommy. “I got jumped by ten guys in a no weapon zone. I managed to kill one of them but the weakness potion got me. What about you?” Grian asked back, earning an embarrassed groan from Tommy. 

“I got angry at one of my server mates and decided to take a few days off. They jumped me in a park.” Tommy was very embarrassed that he had lost the fight, despite knowing the area and having a weapon on him. At least Grian had an excuse and went down fighting. He even managed to kill one of them without a weapon, which Tommy admired quite a bit.

“Eh,” Grian replied as he sat up with a comforting smile. “Sometimes people get the jump on us. At least we’re not dead!” Yet. That word was left unsaid. Tommy was honestly relieved that Grian could be the serious and mature one in their situation. It didn’t match his YouTuber personality but who was Tommy to judge? He himself was a lot calmer off stream, although he was just as chaotic. He couldn’t wait to get out of here and brag to the others that he had met Grian. Technoblade would be so jealous.

 Grian’s head shot up as he stared at the obsidian wall door with a serious expression. That was another thing that caught Tommy off guard. Grian was clearly a hybrid, but Tommy couldn’t tell what he was and he didn’t have the nerves to ask. He had no visible features like Techno’s tusks and ears and Skeppys blue skin. He wasn’t fully anthropomorphic like Fundy and he didn’t seem to hide his features like Philza (Philza could only last a few hours before he had to release his wings). But regardless of whatever Grian was, he could clearly hear people on the other side of the wall.

 Tommy had no idea what he was up to, but he had a suspicion that it had to do with the lever Grian had snatched when he had initially escaped. The only reason he knew about its existence was that Grian had pulled it out of his inventory and started playing with it out of sheer boredom. “Are you feeling up for a little escape attempt Tommy?” Grian asked out of the blue, slightly startling the teen. Tommy smirked in anticipation.

“I am so ready to get the fuck out of here,” Tommy agreed, ignoring the small language warning that Grian replied back with. “For the past few days, I’ve been monitoring their guard checks. I’ve noticed that they have five to ten-minute intervals before the guard's return.” Grian took out his lever and began to slowly drag his hand over the obsidian floor. 

“Mumbo taught me a little trick with redstone. Basically, you can feel its power if it’s activated, and these fools have the lever on to close the door. That was the main reason I escaped the first time; it was to get a lever. Had we tried to run together, they would of likely split us up,” Grian said smugly. Tommy nodded agreeably, pretending to understand the redstone part. Grian carefully placed down the lever and flicked it.

 The obsidian door fell away to reveal no guard nor wandering faction members. “Stay close, don’t speak. Let’s get out of here,” Grian ordered as he walked down the hall. Tommy followed close behind him. 

 Tommy hung close to Grian like a shadow. As they passed other prisoners, they didn’t hoot and holler like they had done when Grian had previously escaped. To Tommy’s absolute befuddlement, they didn’t even beg for the duo to let them out. Most of them had impressed looks while others nodded toward them as if wishing them good luck. Grian didn’t seem surprised, at least outwardly so. Instead, he picked up his pace and Tommy scrambled to keep up. 

 When they rounded a corner, Grian held his hand out, stopping Tommy in his tracks. Ahead of them, was a singular faction member guarding the armory. With a warning glare from Grian, the builder silently slunk towards the guard and grabbed her by her chestplate before slamming her against the wall. As she crumpled to the ground unconscious, Grian motioned to the armory as he dragged her into the room.

 Tommy didn’t know what he was expecting when entering a hacker armory but he wasn’t expecting it to be this… barren.

 The room was filled with chests full of redstone, TNT, crystals: basically, a griefers dream come true. The factions emblem, which looked like a horizontal diamond with a skull in the middle, hung above the middle chests. Overall there was a noticeable lack of actual armor and tools that one would expect to be in an actual armory. Grian didn’t look that surprised. He left the girl on the ground after stealing her sword and rummaged through the redstone chests.

“Here’s the plan Tommy,” Grian started as he dug around the chest. “I’m gonna set a redstone timer down for two minutes so we should be out of the blast radius before then. The blast will knock out the redstone to the prison and release the other prisoners so while those two sides fight, we escape,” and with that, Grian began to lay down redstone.

 Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you notoriously bad at redstone?” He joked. Grian laughed at that one. “Easy circuits like these don’t give me too much trouble. Farms on the other hand,” Grian trailed off as he laid the redstone trail in a way that was foreign to Tommy. “And the guard?” 

 Grian looked up. “What about her?”

“You were just gonna leave her?”

“It’s either her or us Tommy, either way, she’s dead weight and wants to kill us.”

“The blast would kill her!”

“Keep your voice down. If it makes you feel better, we can leave her outside and hope that the obsidian walls protect her,” Grian snapped back. This overall didn’t sit well with Tommy at all, but there was no use arguing with the man that clearly knew more about this area of Minecraftia than he did. 

“That sounds like something Technoblade would say,” Tommy grumbled under his breathe as he conceded. Grian snorted as he placed a redstone torch. As the redstone torch activated the redstone trail, Grian grabbed the unconscious guard and dragged her unceremoniously out of the armory.

“And now we run kid.” And with that, Grian took off like a bullet. Tommy wasn’t expecting it, but his height allowed him to catch up. They ran past faction members and other guards without much difficulty. Well, no difficulty for Tommy. Because Grian was ahead of him by a few blocks, Grian simply caught the attention of the guards first and as they scrambled to corner him, they unintentionally let Tommy easily slip by them.

 Despite expecting the blast, Tommy still stumbled when the ground rumbled. Blocks fell from the ceiling and Grian almost tripped over the debris in an effort to dodge it. A lot of yelling flowed through the halls, and sounds of fighting grew apparent. Just like Grian predicted, people were turning on one another. 

 One guard was knocked unconscious from falling debris and Grian actually stopped to loot the body. He only had access to their toolbar it seemed, as he only took a sword, axe, pickaxe, steak, and flint and steel before Grian ushered Tommy to continue running. 

 Unfortunately, three guards were guarding the exit. Grian slowed down and tossed Tommy the second sword. “Back me up!” Grian yelled as he launched himself at the group with a sword and axe in hand.

 Tommy watched in awe as Grian’s axe cracked the diamond chestplate while his sword parried the sword of the other guard. He had little time to watch further as he attacked the third guard. That guard parried and attempted a jab, but small lessons from Techno had Tommy dodging it and returning the favor.

 Then out of nowhere, the guard collapsed to the ground. Grian pulled his bloody axe out of his helmet with ease and ran out of their prison.

 And just like that, they were free. The sun was almost too bright for Tommy and he had to squint in an attempt to see but he could feel the winter sun warm his body. Grian raised his hand in an attempt to block out the sun but dropped it in shock. Tommy turned to look where Grian was staring before feeling shocked himself.

“Is that a fucking mountain?!” Tommy demanded as he stared at what looked like a natural wall jetting up from the earth. Grian glanced behind him back toward the faction base they had escaped from and grabbed Tommy’s wrist. “Head for the mountains!” Grian ordered as a group of hackers started to ascend toward the exit. 

 Tommy ran for his life. Despite being taller, Grian was a lot faster than him and Tommy could tell that the builder was actively slowing down just so Tommy could keep up. Tommy could hear the yells and jeers from the pursuing faction and pushed himself to run faster.

 About a hundred blocks ahead, Tommy spotted a visible bedrock line that separated the two biomes. How bedrock even spawned above ground did not matter to Tommy as he sprinted to the visible border.

“Pass the border and they probably won’t follow us,” Grian said in between huffs. Something about the border gave Tommy bad vibes but he did what Grian said and continued forward. Suddenly, he felt as if his entire nerves were set on lava. He turned around and noticed one of the hackers glowing blue. He could tell Grian could also feel the effects as he stumbled himself, but Tommy wasn’t expecting Grian to throw his sword like a knife. The sword landed in the glowing hacker’s chest and the effects disappeared immediately.

 Despite his limbs feeling like jelly, Tommy managed to run across the bedrock border. The group of hackers stopped right at the border and watched the duo disappear into the trees of a roofed forest. 

“What the fuck was that?” Tommy demanded as stopped to rest, but Grian grabbed him by the arm. “That's a killing aura hack. Had he been ten blocks closer, we would have been incapacitated from pain.” Tommy tried to rip his arm out of Grian’s hold but the builder had an iron grip.

“We can’t stop, we aren’t safe out here,” Grian insisted as he jogged toward the mountains. Tommy loped behind him. “But they aren’t chasing us Grian, we’re safe!” Tommy argued, only to falter seeing Grian’s distressed expression. 

 Grian let out what sounded like a strangled laugh to the teen. “Tommy we aren’t safe! We may have escaped the wrath of the faction group we escaped from, but we are at the mercy of the Far Lands. We are 12.8 million blocks away from Mojang’s Capital!”

Chapter Text

 Grian didn’t want to scare Tommy. But to be truthful, their situation was very bleak. Although maybe he shouldn’t have told Tommy how bad it truly was. The kid didn’t react well at all when he learned how far away they truly were from home. To be fair, Grian was barely handling it any better. 

 In the past, he was either surrounded by two very good friends who knew the region’s culture and his fighting style or he traveled alone. As of now, he was stuck with a kid who was clearly an idiot if he thought punching a man in diamond armor would get him anywhere.

 The Third Generation was a little too coddled by their predecessors in his opinion.

“We’re lost aren’t we?” Tommy asked as he struggled to keep up with Grian’s faster pace. Despite their height difference, Grian was doing a lot better than the lanky teen. For one, he wasn’t about to drop dead after only walking a few hundred blocks. “Tommy I assure you we aren’t lost. We are heading for the outer reaches of the FarLands,” Grian reassured for what felt like the tenth time since they lost their pursuers.

 Grian could practically hear the unease in Tommy’s voice. “I’ll be honest with you Grian, I was a shit student when I went to school. But I am pretty sure my teacher mentioned that the FarLands are so fatal that not even admins with command blocks venture there,” Tommy grumbled as he quickened his pace to walk beside the builder. “Is that what they’re telling you these days?” Grian asked, even more, amused after seeing Tommy’s disbelieving face. Surely the kid thought of him insane at this point. 

“The only reasons why Admins and hackers fear this part of the land is because its properties inhibit whatever magic is used to control command blocks and our wrist-held communicators,” Grian corrected with a small smile. “The only use communicators have out here is to tell a player the time and the cords.” Tommy looked like he was on the verge of having a breakdown but not. Grian couldn’t tell what that emotion was. Instead, he trudged forward.

“Traveling out here is so dangerous in fact, that no one knows what lays beyond the mountainous walls of the Beyond. But I’ve been out here twice,” Grian added in an attempt to soothe Tommy’s fears. Tommy blinked in faint surprise as he met Grian’s eyes. “So you know how to survive out here?” Tommy questioned earning an amused snicker from the builder. “Well, I can tell you we’re in no current danger of a sudden freeze due to how bright the green leaves are on the trees.

 Tommy glanced at the tree leaves, in faint confusion at the seemingly tangent part of their conversation. “FarLand freezes are deadly and unpredictable. I’d like to make us a house far far away from the bedrock border before then,” Grian clarified as he picked up the pace. Tommy let out an angry huff as he struggled to keep up. 

 Grian sighed. At this rate, they wouldn’t be home till the new year.

/ / / / / / / / / /

 Tommy hasn’t been doing the YouTube/Twitch business for long with famous creators, but he has seen enough to know that personalities on camera often differed from those behind closed doors. 

 Yet Grian still surprised him.

 Perhaps he would have acted differently in a less deadly environment. But the man was so closed off and cold that it starked contrastingly against his happy and crafty behavior on the Tube. He was an enigma, one Tommy wished Tubbo was here to help him crack. Thinking of his best friend made him sad, as the last time he saw the brunette, he had left him in a huff due to Skeppy’s antics.

 He never even said goodbye.

“We’ll stop here for now.” Tommy looked up in surprise as Grian broke his train of thoughts. They had stopped by a river. Grian was on his knees, using his hands to drink from the stream. Tommy hesitantly joined him, the cold water down his throat invigorating his tired body. 

“We can’t stay here for the night, lest some Drowned sneak up on us,” Grian mumbled. Tommy couldn’t tell if the builder was talking to himself. “We’ll walk till dusk and then sleep in the trees for the night,” Grian continued, standing back up and stretching his legs. Just the thought of walking made Tommy want to collapse.

 As much as he wanted to complain, he didn’t want to risk Grian leaving him. So with one more sip from the stream, he stood back up and waited for Grian to continue leading him towards the FarLand mountains.

 For a split second, Tommy could have sworn Grian winced at his admittedly pathetic state. “I know it’s tough, but we gotta keep our distance from the faction. It’ll get easier the longer you work at your endurance,” Grian assured him. Grian gently pats his shoulder before leading the teen away from the river, at a much slower pace.

 As kind as the gesture was, by the time Grian decided to stop for the night, Tommy was about to collapse from exhaustion. Grian turned to him. “Mobs don’t roam on trees, aside from the occasional spider. We’ll sleep in the canopy.” Tommy’s face must have said a lot because Grian began to laugh at him.

“Trust me, Tommy, you’ll be fine. I’ll give you a boost up.” Grian cradled his hands together, and using the makeshift foothold, Tommy pulled himself up the branch. He was kind of curious how Grian would get himself up, as the builder had no blocks and was shorter in stature. Grian backed up before running towards the tree, kicking off of the trunk, and pulled himself up onto the branch adjacent to Tommy. Show off.

 Grian cracked a grin. “See, building does have its upsides,” he joked as he settled down onto his side of the tree. So he gets his strength from collecting and placing blocks all day? Tommy snorted as he leaned against the trunk and watched the sun dip below the horizon. 

 Grian wordlessly handed him a piece of steak he stole off of one of the faction members earlier that day. Tommy would usually wolf down any of his food, but he could imagine Philza scolding him for wasting limited food in a harsh environment. Instead, the teen nibbled on the steak, intending to eat enough to sate his stomach enough to sleep and eat the rest in the morning.

“I have thirteen pieces of steak left,” Grian assured the teen as if he could tell what Tommy was thinking. “If we ration it out to one or two pieces a day, we have enough time to scavenge and hunt.”

“But we could run into some issues,” Tommy protested, twisting his body to glare at Grian. Grian raised an eyebrow. “You should leave that worry to me, Tommy. For someone who punched a diamond-clad player, you sure seem to have some sort of survival instinct,” Grian mused, earning a growl from Tommy. That bastard. “I was angry,” he half-heartedly argued.

“Anger will get you killed out here,” Grian said with such certainty that Tommy couldn’t find any words to retaliate. He scoffed and silently admitted defeat as he tried to get comfortable on the branch. Well, as comfortable as he could get. “Are you taking the first watch or am I?” Grian asked softly.

“Can you?”

“I can.”

 Tommy sighed as he tried his best to block out the natural call of the woods in an attempt to sleep. He fell asleep, thinking about the melody of one of Wilbur’s songs, and put it on repeat.

/ / / / /

“Tommy.”

 Tommy blearily rose his head. He could see Grian’s shadowy form outlined by the light of the moon that was now beginning to set. Grian let him sleep for a lot longer than he thought he would. “Did you let me sleep in?” He groggily asked. Grian shook his head. “I don’t need to sleep for as long as you do. Wake me up if you have any problems.”

 With that, Grian nodded off. Tommy rubbed his eyes and looked to the ground to see the glossy sheen of zombie flesh just laying on the ground. Grian reminded Tommy a lot of Technoblade. Both of them would stay up and fight the mobs just so others could sleep. Like Technoblade, Tommy would have to make sure the idiot builder would share the night watch equally lest he grow exhausted and kill them both.

 Tommy looked up through the canopy. The pros of living out here were low and few between, but the night sky was one of them. Without the light pollution from the major cities to keep the mobs away, the sky itself seemed to come to life. There were so many stars and the black sky had swirls of purple, blue and red, like transparent clouds beyond the stars.

 To put it simply, it was beautiful.

 The night sky reminded him of Philza’s custom hardcore world and he couldn’t help but wonder if the older player had used the night sky out here as his inspiration. He would definitely have to ask the old man if when he came back.

 If the night sky always looked like this, he wouldn’t mind taking the later shift. If only just to watch the stars follow the moon below the horizon as the early signs of dawn cast its light upon the land.

/ / / / /

 After a few days of the repeated cycle, Tommy could finally see detail on the mountains that reached the highest point in the sky. He couldn’t really call them mountains. It was as if some god raised the earth to the human build limit to keep them all trapped in the valley. Aside from the occasional hole that leads to a network of caves (according to Grian), the top was completely flat.

 When they were only a few hundred blocks away from the FarLand mountains, Grian simply stopped. Tommy was confused about why they were stopping in a seemingly normal biome. It was only a forest biome with flat terrain and a pond to his right. Grian hummed to himself as he poked around the area before looking up at Tommy.

“Think this is a good spot to camp for a few weeks?” Grian asked with a wave. Tommy didn’t know why he bothered asking. He wasn’t the builder here. “I guess,” Tommy replied as he looked around for any caves. Those would be death traps, for both of them. Tommy had heard of the rumors of the highly hostile mobs out in the FarLand’s. Some even claimed they were intelligent. He didn’t want to ask Grian and come off as an idiot.

“We have a water source that is shallow enough to where drowned can’t come and visit us and the terrain is flat enough to build quickly without much terraforming,” Grian commented before looking up at the mountains. “Not to mention, we’re so close to the Beyond that no hacker will bother coming out here without risking the loss of their hacks,” Grian added with a confident smile. Tommy could only wish he could feel Grian’s confidence right now.

 Grian’s brows furrowed before he tossed Tommy a diamond pickaxe. The teen barely caught it and sent an annoyed glare his way. “That’s what those mountains are called? Also thanks for the warning dickhead,” Tommy growled. “Watch your mouth,” Grian warned all traces of his earlier good mood gone. 

“To answer your question, they don’t technically have a name. They’re usually just called the FarLand’s,” Grian sighed. “But the land below the mountains is affected by its anomalous properties for about 50,000 blocks at some points so to avoid confusion, I just like to refer to the mountainous area as the Beyond. It’s called the Beyond because once you start traveling on the mountains, you can’t see anything else but stone with the occasional cave entrance. No one has ever survived to tell anyone if there is a land beyond the Beyond due to the thin air and cold temperatures,” he clarified with a dark look.

Okay so no to traveling on the big mountains. Tommy thoughtfully looked back at the Beyond before staring at the pickaxe Grian had tossed him moments earlier. “So what do you want me to do with this?” He questioned as he gestured to the pick in his hands. “Well while I mine wood and clear the area for a house,” Grian started with a look that Tommy did not like. “You get to dig down to y11 and get us cobble and other ores.” 

 Tommy could only stare at him. He wasn’t exactly happy with this setup, and mining without a communicator sounded like a death wish. “How the fuck am I supposed to mine without a communicator? I can only carry so much,” Tommy protested, ignoring the glare from the use of a swear. “You dig down to bedrock and then build back up 5-6 blocks and you can leave the ores at the bottom of the stairs to carry later,” Grian replied as if it made perfect sense to create a strip mine in the FarLands. 

“Cobble is more important though. I want a stable foundation for the rustic house I have in mind,” Grian added, handing Tommy a stack of redstone torches. “Redstone torches can last for years while normal torches go out in days. Come back up to the surface when you manage to dig down to Y11 and I’ll give you some wood to make more,” Grian continued before hefting the diamond axe onto his shoulder and walking away. Tommy glared at his retreating form, feeling slightly resentful for the more laborious job.

 He couldn’t read the enchantments on the pickaxe without a communicator, but he could only hope for a high-efficiency rate as well as a high fortune enchantment to make his life easier. As he swung the pickaxe into the dirt, he could only quietly curse the builder for not giving him a shovel to work with.

/ / / / /

 That night, Tommy barely had any strength to pull himself into the canopy. Not even training with Technoblade left him with the soreness in his arms that he was feeling. Grian silently handed him an apple, and Tommy took it with little complaint. He was simply too tired to care. He had dug in a straight line for hours and hauled up cobblestone with his limited inventory space for the house. God damn, he missed his communicator.

 Thankfully, Grian was a fast builder, and Tommy could already see that the man had built the foundation and most of the walls of the first floor. It looks like they won’t be spending much more time up here in the canopy, as Tommy was doubtful that Grian would make a second floor. 

“How’s the building going?” Tommy asked, softly, itching for a conversation to fill the silence. Out of all of his friends, he was never particularly good with long stretches of silence. “It’s going good,” Grian trailed off. “How’re your arms?” The builder asked back. 

“Sore.” Tommy’s response was short and conveyed his feelings perfectly. He could hear the visible wince in Grian’s voice. “It’ll help you gain more muscle and upper body strength in the long run if that makes you feel any better.” It didn’t, but Grian didn’t give him a chance to shoot a petty response in return.

“Anyways, I have a couple of plans in mind for the time we will be hunkering down here,” Grian said cheerfully, changing the subject. Tommy bit into his apple and let the builder lead the conversation. “After the house, I want to set up some traps for mobs to fall into. If you’re interested, I can teach you?” The thought of not having to mine was very appealing. The thought of turning these traps onto the Dream SMP inhabitants even more so.

“I am all for fucking with things.” Tommy grinned hearing Grian’s amused/exasperated snort in response. “I’m starting to think you are a child,” was Grian’s response, earning an annoyed squawk from Tommy, who was half tempted to throw the core of his apple right at Grian’s face. “Excuse me mister King of Builder’s but I am the biggest man in the world,” Tommy gloated with pride. Not everyone lived on the Dream SMP after all.

“Hmmmmm,” Grian hummed as he played along. Tommy started wheezing as he watched Grian stroke his fake beard in thoughtfulness. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of you big man,” Grian jokingly jabbed, earning a mock hurt from Tommy. “That is The Biggest Man to you Grian,” Tommy demanded with a sly grin. “You think you’re so big by being affiliated with Hermitcraft. Well, I’ll have you know that I come from the Dream SMP.”

“The same guy I pummeled in MCC?” Grian asked cheekily. Tommy could clearly remember that. The famous clip showed Grian branching off from his team in survival games and forcing Dream into a corner while using the cornfield to his advantage. Dream was a little embarrassed to get out so early, by a builder no less. Watching George and Sapnap take the piss out of him over it was the highlight of that week.

“Anyone could take out the green man if they tried,” Tommy agreed, earning a giggle from Grian. “Well if you are truly from the Dream SMP, then I can’t call you Biggest Man,” Grian declared, earning an annoyed whine from Tommy. “But why?” Tommy asked, drawling out the why to be as annoyingly endearing as possible.

“Because only the biggest man on the server could have a server named after themselves,” Grian teased, earning a scoff from Tommy. “I’ll have you know only self-centered assholes name things after themselves and I totally defeated Dream for my country's independence,” Tommy declared proudly.

“Did you win the duel?”

 Tommy flipped Grian off in response earning an annoyed “Ay!” that was oddly reminiscent of BadBoyHalo. 

 Tommy lost all his initial fears of not getting along with Grian that evening. He was so going to rub it in everyone’s faces that he made a friend out of Grian if when he got back home.

/ / / / / / / / / /

 Despite getting along oddly well, they had their struggles. Tommy was headstrong and stubborn, often arguing with Grian over tasks. Especially if they didn’t make sense. Mining was the main issue. Tommy didn’t see the need to mine for so much cobble and resources. Most of the cobble was left in the mines anyway, and Tommy didn’t see the need to mine for diamonds if they were truly as sparse as Grian claimed they were in the FarLands. 

 They both had iron armor, although, in Tommy’s opinion, they wouldn’t survive against hackers without forged diamond or netherite armor. Hand-made gear is always superior to the stuff you can craft from the crafting table, so Tommy had no clue why Grian was so adamant about wanting to build a special forge. If Grian’s claims of knowing how to forge custom weapons and tools were true then he should know that it’s possible to forge iron armor using a furnace and an anvil. 

 That wasn’t the only thing driving him mad. He didn’t mind Grian taking the leadership role (he was honestly thankful for it), but he didn’t like doing the mindless chores that he was asked to do. He could only mine, chop wood into planks, and farm the ground to plant wild wheat for so long before he grew impatient. Grian often adventured beyond the rustic house he had built, setting up elaborate traps while hunting wild cows and pigs. 

 It felt unfair, and Tommy was close to his breaking point over it. A small part of him understood that Grian probably knew how to survive out here a lot better than he did, and while these chores could be physically laborious, they were a lot safer than venturing beyond the lit-up clearing. 

 The other part of him, the more impulsive and childish part of him, wanted to stab shit.

 So when Grian asked him to take care of the farm, they got into a pretty nasty stalemate. Tommy venomously refused to farm. Grian looked like he was about to threaten him into compliance.

“For fucks sake Grian, I am sick and tired of doing these mundane chores! Let me go hunting or some shit.”

“You’d get lost the second you got fifty blocks away.”

Technoblade and Vikstar would agree. That just pissed Tommy off more.

“I would not venture that far! And I’ll have you know I’d easily make it back if I were to travel only fifty blocks.”

“When I asked you where North was, you told me it was down.”

“It is down!”

“If you can’t even tell me the basic cardinal directions then I am not letting you roam the FarLands alone.”

 That pissed him off. Tommy knew that his anger often led to a loss of rationality. This argument would be no exception.

“Fuck you! I bet you don’t even know anything about the FarLands given that you don’t seem to know that you can custom-craft iron armor without a fancy forge!”

Tommy could have sworn that Grian’s angry eyes flashed a dark purple for a second.

“Why would I waste my time on iron armor when given the chance, I will just forge diamond?”

“Hackers!”

“Comms and hacks don’t work out in the FarLand’s nor the Beyond.”

 Tommy hated that he made a good point.

 Grian let out an annoyed sigh and uncrossed his arms. 

“Tell you what, if you can shear a sheep, I will let you do what you want to do.”

 Did this man take him as an idiot? Tommy felt insulted.

“Fuck you.”

“Is that a yes?”

 It was a yes, and Tommy was totally going to mock Grian when he came back with wool.

/ / / / /

 After Tommy had grabbed the shears from Grian, he wandered through the forest for a few hours. Of course, Grian didn’t let him venture alone, but the builder kept his distance. Tommy whistled Able Sisters under his breath as he looked around for sheep.

His feet were admittedly sore after walking around for a few hours (he was really fucking hating how Grian looked like he could walk for another 5 hours, despite flying to get around on Hermitcraft. In what world did that make sense?). He had seen a herd of cows and a single chicken but no sheep. 

 He was tempted to give in, but the thought of proving Grian wrong invigorated his motivation to continue.

 He almost cheered with joy when he found three sheep in an open clearing. He carefully approached the closest one. The sheep paused its grazing and eyed Tommy cautiously which should be impossible because it is a stupid sheep. Tommy did not like its stare but confidently continued.

 Not wanting to startle the animal, Tommy slowly took out the shears and began to cut the wool. Faster than he could react, the sheep pulled away and headbutted him right in the stomach. Tommy flew back 5-6 blocks before landing on his butt, out of breath. The sheep lowered its head and angrily pawed the ground. Tommy braced for another charge.

 A shrill whistle echoed in the clearing. Both Tommy and the sheep looked up to see Grian calmly leaning against a tree with his own shears in hand. The sheep paused and cautiously approached Grian, who brought out wheat and offered it to the animal. He calmly dropped the wheat onto the ground and as the sheep ate the rare treat, Grian snapped off the wool in three snips.

 Tommy took a deep breath as he stared at Grian and the sheep in disbelief. Grian gently patted the sheep on the head before walking over to Tommy. Grian offered his hand and Tommy accepted it, graciously standing back up with the builder’s help.

 Never had he felt so humiliated as he did right at that moment. A fucking sheep bested him, the great TommyInnit. Grian would never let him live it down.

“So,” Grian drawled with a mischievous look in his eyes. “Are we going up or down?

 Tommy threw in the towel and let Grian lead them back to the house. Despite being in slight pain from the headbutt, Tommy refused to rest. By the time they reached the house, the day was almost over. Tommy collapsed beside the house in exhaustion, pain, and defeat.

 Grian quietly sat beside him. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a while before Grian broke it. “It’s not that I think you are incapable or stupid. I think you could be very strong if given the right training Tommy,” Grian started, staring out into the forest.

“However, you can’t treat the FarLands like you would a server. This land is untamed. These animals are wild. You can’t just approach a sheep and expect it to let you farm its wool. The mobs in the FarLands are abnormally intelligent, which is why I go and hunt them during the day before they form a pack and overwhelm us.”

 Tommy lowered his head in shame in disappointment. So the rumors were true. He should have been more cautious. 

“We can’t speedrun the FarLand’s in twenty minutes or so. We only have one life out here.”

 Tommy shifted uneasily. It felt like he was getting scolded by his father or Wilbur.

“Survival takes time. I promise that once we grow stable, I’ll take you with me. It’ll be safer for the both of us to stick together out there anyways.”

 That last bit ended in a more amused tone, which gave Tommy hope that Grian wasn’t as furious as he originally thought he was. 

“Tommy, look at me.”

 Tommy looked up and met Grian’s eyes. He was expecting anger and even disappointment. He was not expecting the warmth and understanding in his calculated stare. 

“I was your age once. I learned through trial and error and only the Void knows how close I almost died each time. Let me teach you. Let’s work together as a team,” Grian offered, offering his hand.

“Promise you’ll take me with you when we grow more stable?” Tommy almost begged.

“I promise.”

 Tommy accepted Grian’s hand. From that day on, Tommy followed Grian to the end, keeping most of his complaints to himself. They finally became a team.

Chapter Text

 Grian kept his word. 

 After the sheep incident, as Grian was now calling it, Tommy continued to do most of the chores alone as Grian explored the forest biome. As the resources piled up and the farm grew self-sufficient, Tommy found himself looking forward to exploring the woods himself.

 So when the day came and Grian invited him along on an adventure, Tommy almost jumped with joy. 

/ / / / / / / / / / /

 Earlier that day, Grian had woken up in their shared cabin unusually early in the morning. The sun was barely beginning to peek above the horizon, casting their shared bedroom in a dark reddish-orange glow. Grian lifted his head groggily. Something had woken him up. Some noise. He glanced over to Tommy only to see the kid blinking blearily in his direction.

 His instincts prodded him to check out the noise, so he grudgingly obeyed. He got out of bed and ignored Tommy’s confused expression with a wave of his hand. 

“You can go back to sleep. I’m gonna check up on some things,” Grian assured the teen. Grian was unsure if Tommy was bad at picking up lies or if he was just tired. But surprisingly, the teen simply shrugged and curled underneath the covers.

 Grian shook himself like a dog as he stepped out into the cool, fresh air of the early morning. This was one of his favorite times of the day, early morning and late evening. It was a shame he couldn’t enjoy it today.

 Grian cautiously raised his axe in preparation for a fight. As annoyed as he was with Tommy’s complaints about their armor, he could understand his worry. Iron armor was laughable when compared to diamond and netherite. Grian was unsure if he would be able to take on a netherite clad player while protecting himself and Tommy.

 It was his biggest current fear.

 Sure enough, Grian’s excellent hearing picked up heavy footsteps of at least two players. Grian silently climbed a nearby tree and sat in the shadows. Despite not having a bow to threaten them with, Grian was fairly confident that his natural intimidating confidence would drive them away. He has been successful with hunting with an axe after all. An arrow was no match for a perfectly aimed axe to the face.

 Two armored players walked through the trees. To Grian’s relief, they were only wearing light enchanted iron armor meant for speed and agility rather than heavy defense. They were traders.

 It wasn’t uncommon for groups of unlawful yet peaceful players to settle in the FarLands. Not only did hackers stay away, but Mojang couldn’t do shit without their command blocks. It was a peaceful life if you knew what you were doing, and if you could travel 12 million blocks to get there.

 Traders from the main Outer Square underground market chain (a nicer way to say black market) were often sent out here, as these peaceful players often collected loot that hackers had a hard time obtaining. Phantom membranes were some of the most sought-after material, for their natural ability to sponge up blood from a gaping wound, repair elytra’s, and enhance potions. 

 The fresher the membrane, the better bandage. The older the membrane, the better elytra material for repairs. Grian already knew what he was going to be doing today. That is if they were actually traders. Even if they were agile bounty hunters, Grian was doubtful that they could hurt him that easily.

 With that in mind, Grian skillfully dropped to the ground, startling both traders into raising their iron swords. Grian tilted his head like a curious cat and kept his voice low and threatening.

“You two are a bit far from the Wall, aren’t you?”

 The two traders uneasily shared a look as they kept an eye on Grian. In the Outer Square, you could never tell if someone was a friend or a foe. People were rarely friends out here, and Grian had little plans to be friendly to strangers. 

 The taller of the two hesitantly lowered their sword in an attempt to be peaceful. “Me and my friend hail from the east side of the Outer Square. We’ve come to the north in search of more… valuable materials,” he said in a calm voice. 

“Are you looking for phantom membranes?”

 Their eyes sparkled in greed. Jackpot. “That is exactly what we are looking for,” the shorter trader exclaimed. Grian nodded, keeping his face straight as he examined their persons for hidden weapons. “I’ve just settled down nearby recently but I could get you a few hides by tomorrow?” Grian offered.

 The two traders nodded in agreement. “We’d be willing to trade for that. A freeze is going to happen soon so it would be better to get them through others than search for them ourselves,” the taller agreed.

 Grian disagreed. The leaves were starting to darken but not very much. He was anticipating a freeze in the next two to three months, but who was he to correct them? It would be a loss of valuables on his end.

“I can meet you two here tomorrow to trade?” Grian offered. You don’t invite a stranger to your base in the Outer Square. That was just asking for a robbery or a grief… or both. “We’ve got no plans to move on from this area for another week,” the taller agreed.

 Grian lowered his axe. “So do you guys happen to have arrows for sale?” he asked. Sure enough, they did. Four iron ingots for a stack of 64 felt a little pricey but Grian didn’t want to waste time narrowing down the price. Tommy was probably wondering where he’d run off to at this point.

 After acquiring two stacks with an additional agreement to meet here again tomorrow morning, Grian set off home. Of course, he took detours in case they attempted to follow him, but he was relieved when they kept their distance.

 By the time he returned, Tommy was chopping wood for the fire. The kid lowered his axe and sent him a pointed look.

 Point taken, he’d been gone for over an hour after all.

“Where the hell have you been?” Tommy demanded, wiping the sweat off his brow as he tucked his axe away. It wasn’t uncommon for Grian to take hours to explore, but not without telling Tommy. The kid was curious if a little apprehensive of what he may have had to do so early. “I ran into some traders from the east side of the Outer Square,” Grian explained, slightly soothing Tommy’s visible fear. Tommy’s eyes sparkled in curiosity, the chopped wood completely forgotten. Grian chuckled at the child-like excitement Tommy extrudes as he entered their cabin.

 The rustic cabin interior was nothing special. Storage on one wall, the crafting table and furnaces on another, and the two beds on the third. It was just one big room. It reminded Grian of his sleeping quarters in his mansion; sleeping with a chest monster. 

 Until he drew up plans for a basement, he would be content with the mess. Tommy didn’t seem to care either. 

 Speaking of Tommy, the teen sat down on his bed suspiciously calm (It was the closest to the biggest window, Grian often caught him staring at the night sky). Grian hid his smile as he rummaged through the chests for coal. It was a shame the FarLand’s prevented access to the Nether. It would make collecting the membranes much easier.

“Well?” Tommy drawled, completely impatient. “Well, what?” Grian asked teasingly. Tommy scowled at him and crossed his arms across his chest. “Well I may have only known you for like, two weeks, but you don’t just get up early and then come back a few hours later normally,” Tommy pointed out. “Also you met up with traders? I thought people stayed away from the FarLands?” Tommy added. 

 Grian closed the chest and opened up another one. “Normal and sane people stay away from FarLands,” Grian agreed as he pushed the cobblestone aside. Going through chests would be so much easier if he had a communicator. “However, Outer Square residents struggle to get the common materials that Mojang can just whip up in their controlled spawners. So traders and specialized players make the journey to the FarLands to collect the materials the hard way.”

 Grian opened and closed another chest, feeling a little annoyed at the lack of coal. “As dangerous and deadly as FarLand mobs are, if you can make a trap and kill a horde, you can make big money,” Grian replied as he closed what felt like the tenth chest with no luck. “By the way, do you know where you put the coal?”

“The third chest on the bottom to your right,” Tommy advised before letting out a huff. “So what does this have to do with the traders again?” He asked with a yawn. “Well, we really could use the diamonds-” “I thought there was no currency out here?” Tommy interrupted, confused. 

“You’re right, it’s just trading for certain items for equal value,” Grian agreed as he pulled out a chunk of coal. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted.” Tommy stuck his tongue out in response. “We could really use the diamonds, so I was gonna make the couple hundred-block trip to the Beyond,” Grian trailed off, seeing the slight sag in Tommy’s shoulders.

“... And I need a second person to help me.” Seeing Tommy’s face light up like a kid on Christmas day was well worth inviting him along. The addition of seeing what he was capable of was the icing on the cake. The teen shot off of his bed in pure excitement and dashed out the door. Grian shook his head fondly as he grabbed an empty leather rucksack and his bow before leaving. 

 Outside, Tommy was hopping back and forth as he waited impatiently for Grian to tell him where they were going. “Can you grab some of the wood you were cutting earlier?” Grian asked, earning a nod from Tommy who quickly ran over to the pile. “How much?” The teen called over his shoulder.  

“About half a stack to be safe,” Grian decided, watching Tommy count the blocks before placing them haphazardly into his toolbar. “Do you have a flint and steel as well? Grian asked, watching Tommy pull out the tool in confirmation. “Nice, now let’s go. This should only take us two hours at a good pace,” Grian clapped as he led Tommy towards the Beyond.

 Tommy matched Grian’s pace with a visible pep in his step. “You’re so excited and you don’t even know what we’re doing,” Grian laughed as Tommy shrugged. “I don’t really care what we are doing Grian, as long as I get to finally get out of the fucking clearing,” Tommy declared, earning an annoyed side glare from Grian. 

“Ey, watch your language child.”

“Make me.”

 Grian sighed in exasperation. 

/ / / / / / / / / /

 By midday, they had reached the Beyond. It was one of the few select things that Tommy would ever admit he felt a slight twinge of fear towards. The walls of the Beyond looked unnatural, but not man-made. It looked like someone with access to world edit in creative mode teleported chunks of the world to build height. 

 But this was real life and those walls were real. 

 Everything about the land screamed danger to Tommy. Normally, he ignored them in favor of making his friends and community laugh at his antics. But even with Grian here, who would probably help him if he did something stupid… 

 Everything just felt wrong.

 The cave system that would normally attach to the caves below his feet was in the open. They were the perfect mob trap for players. Tommy could imagine Philza’s venomous refusals to explore due to his hardcore nature and for once Tommy was inclined to agree.

 Exploring those caves would be a death sentence. One of the ravines that jutted out of the wall had two skeletons standing guard. The fact that the skeletons were looking relaxed and not threatening him with arrows was just icing on the cake for all the wrongness he was feeling. 

“So this is where people go to die?” Tommy asked nervously, uncaring of how his joke fell flat. Grian snorted. “Well that’s one way to put it,” the builder remarked, scanning the tall land-wall himself. 

 Tommy didn’t know how to feel towards Grian’s nonchalance about the Beyond. He looked like he couldn’t give a shit. 

“This is where all of the monsters that roam Minecraftia lands come from. Some believe they breed here, others think natural spawners exist, the rest have outlandish theories. Nonetheless, people who explore those caves die before they can get too deep.”

“Now,” Grian turned to Tommy with a hidden smirk. “Let’s go exploring shall we?” Grian said, gesturing to one of the caves close to the ground. The cave entrance was riddled with bleached bones, rotten flesh, and membrane. Only one mob shed their skin to Tommy’s knowledge.

 Grian wanted to enter a phantoms den. They were going to die here, Tommy knew it. No wonder Grian grabbed a bow earlier.

“You really want us to enter a cave of phantoms?” Tommy asked.

“Yes?” Grian turned to him as if the question he asked was stupid.

 And Tubbo called him insane.

“Phantoms Grian. The flying reptilian rats. Those phantoms?” Tommy stressed. Grian looked at him as if he grew a second head.

“Yes?”

 Yeah fuck this, Tommy did not want to die. No thank you. 

“I’m just gonna wait out here,” Tommy decided, and to prove his point, he plopped himself right on the ground. He stared up at Grian, who looked like he was really close to facepalming or murdering him.

 Grian sighed and rubbed his face. “You’re chickening out?” He questioned. Tommy glared at Grian’s wording. “I am not chickening out, I am just refusing to participate in a clearly suicidal mission,” Tommy retorted, clasping his hands together. 

 Grian gave him a dead stare. “Phantoms will be scared of the torch and even if it goes out, we’ll be able to run out of the ravine and into the daylight. Trust me, they are not fast fliers,” Grian reassured him and offered his hand.

“I could really use an extra set of eyes. You holding the torch for us would also be an advantage as you are taller than me and I’ll be able to use my bow,” Grian added. Tommy glanced at Grian’s pleading expression before looking away.

 If this was the quickest way to get diamonds, then he should do it. After a week of constant mining, he has found seven diamonds. It would take them a year at that rate to get a full set of custom diamond armor. Grian also admitted needing his help which he never thought he’d hear based on Grian’s past interactions.

 What Wilbur doesn’t know will not hurt him.

 Tommy accepted his hand and let Grian pull him to his feet. Tommy nodded to Grian and turned to face the phantom’s den.

“Let's enter the fucking phantoms den then,” Tommy mumbled, accepting Grian’s torch and sparking it with his flint and steel. 

 The torch blazed to life as Tommy lifted the torch above his head. Grian stuck right beside him as they entered the cave. 

 Loud screeches of the night rat could be heard as ghostly green eyes dotted the top of the cave where the torchlight did not meet. Grian knocked an arrow in preparation as Tommy watched one attempt to dive-bomb them. 

 Grian waited until the phantom was only a few blocks above them before letting his arrow loose. The phantom yowled in pain as it faltered in the air. It was too slow to dodge Grian’s second arrow, which pierced its head. The mob dissolved into dust, leaving a slimy membrane on the floor. 

 A few other phantoms dived as Grian picked up the membrane, only to fly away with a hiss as Tommy waved his torch around. Grian held up the slimy membrane to the light for Tommy to see. 

“There will be more the farther back we go. We’re guaranteed to get at least a stack of the dried membrane but we will get more than ten of the fresh stuff,” Grian commented, placing the membrane in his limited inventory before moving on.

 Tommy followed carefully, feeling more nervous as the natural light from the cave entrance dimmed before disappearing completely. 

 But Grian was right. There were dozens of shed membranes in varying sizes all over the cave floor the further back they went. Grian picked up the best ones, ignoring the membranes with holes or thin textures. The phantoms that were aggressive enough to dive bomb them often met a swift end with Grian’s excellent marksmanship and they quickly gained more fresh ones the farther back they went.

 Tommy didn’t understand why the phantoms were being more aggressive until the two entered a fairly spacious cave. Loud hissing from several phantoms had Grian stopping dead in his tracks.

“We’re at the top nursery. This is where we turn around or we risk dying,” Grian warned as Tommy’s torch flickered. “Why?” Tommy asked, not particularly disappointed about finally getting to leave but curious about why Grian wanted to turn around now out of all places. 

 Grian shrugged. “Well any mob is defensive of its young and phantoms are especially hostile,” Grian commented as they exited the cave. “Not to mention that it’ll just become a maze and I’d rather not run into the bigger phantoms that lurk far beneath the Beyond,” Grian added as he shot another phantom. 

 They managed to get out a lot faster than they entered, but that was because Grian wasn’t stopping every time they came across membranes. Grian shot down six more phantoms before they left the cave. Tommy was never happier to see the midday sun as he was right then. 

 Grian laughed as Tommy dramatically laid in the grass but he could care less. The thought of having only one life was something he thought long and hard about every night he kept watch. He was quite proud of making Grian laugh though. 

/ / / / / / / / / /

 They had managed to get 23 fresh membranes and 71 dried. Grian was quite happy with the catch, as he led Tommy to the meet-up spot the very next day. Tommy had promised him that he would keep quiet and another person would dissuade any attempt at robbing.

 Not like they’d be able to. Grian would give one hell of a fight than give up his items.

 Sure enough, the two traders were waiting for him in their meet-up spot. Alone. Grian was glad that their luck was holding out thus far. 

“Good morning,” the tall man greeted, his gaze landing on Tommy in uncertainty. “I see you’ve brought a friend.” Grian shrugged as Tommy quietly stood beside him. “He’s here to watch, nothing else,” Grian assured the man. “Now what do you have for trade?”

 The shorter man pulled out a chest and spilled its contents on the plank blocks they had placed earlier.  

 Grian noted that these men had clearly traded with FarLand inhabitants before. Amidst the pile of random blocks and tools and food, he spotted netherrack, diamonds, enchanted books, and items only found in the Nether. 

 The FarLand’s natural magic blocked portals so creating a Nether portal was impossible. Anything from the Nether would be worth a lot out here. But diamonds were his main priority. 

“How much for diamonds?” Grian asked as the short man picked up the gems from their stash. “Five membranes per diamond. Two fresh membranes per diamond,” the tall man replied. Grian raised an eyebrow, determined to haggle down the prices.

“How about three membranes and one fresh?”

“Three membranes and two.”

“Four membranes and one.”

“Deal,” the taller agreed. Grian handed the shorter man 52 membranes and 17 fresh for the 30 diamonds they had. It was a slightly unfair deal for the old membranes but Grian knew that he could always scavenge for more. It was the fresh stuff that was harder to come by. 

 Another 11 old and 1 fresh later, Grian also received a stack of netherrack and an ender chest. With nothing else that interested him, Grian put away his items and handed Tommy the extra stuff that he couldn’t fit in his limited inventory space.

“Thanks for the stuff,” Grian commented, as the short man began to pack their things. “It was a pleasure,” the taller agreed. Grian noted the slight greed in his eyes and made a mental note to see how well Tommy could barter. He was never really good at it and often lost his patience before coming to a fairer deal.

 He’s a lot better at spending hours collecting his own materials than making deals for the cheapest option. The Hermit’s knew this, his old friends knew this, and he was pretty sure Tommy now knew this. 

 Grian gently laid his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and steered him away from the traders who had begun to walk the other way. By the time they reached their cabin, Grian was starting to feel a little bit worried about the teen. 

 He stopped short of the door and looked up at the teen. “Are you feeling okay?” Grian asked, earning a confused stare from Tommy. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” He replied, looking fairly lost. “Well you haven’t spoken since this morning before the traders,” Grian pointed out.

 Tommy cocked his head in faint confusion. “I figured you wouldn’t want me to speak after the guard almost killed me,” Tommy replied sheepishly. Grian let out a sigh and placed his hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “You are completely right about that. My biggest worry today was getting stabbed because of your mouth,” Grian honestly replied, hiding his smile as a wave of curses and insults spewed from Tommy’s mouth. 

/ / / / / / / / / /

 The trade between those nomads was quite a valuable experience for Tommy if he was being honest with himself. 

 Tommy considered himself to be quite a con man if he put effort into it. For his videos, he liked to joke around and mess around with willing clients. But he didn’t spend years of his life slowly climbing the Skyblock hierarchy and getting lots of practice before he struck gold with YouTube.

 Bartering, as little as he has seen it, was about the same. No violence and prices could vary depending on the client and item. He had doubts that the violence part was an exception in this case, as the FarLand’s were pretty rough to live in without prior knowledge.

 It was just strange that the happy-go-lucky builder front that Grian put off was just that, a front. Grian was, outside of YouTube, a survivalist like Philza. Tommy was pretty sure that those two would get along spectacularly when they would inevitably meet. 

 Grian’s PVP skills were also a surprise, but not as much as Tommy had originally thought. Not everyone could get a jump on Dream. Although his victory against the speedrunner was seen as pure luck, Tommy had his doubts. Grian breaking off from the head of his team and cutting Dream off was a constant reminder that Grian was potentially on Techno’s level.

 Technoblade in the past always brushed him off for PVP lessons with excuses of time constraints or just straight-up refusals. Dream was more willing to teach him some tips, but not the true lessons that Tommy wanted to learn. 

 For once, he was hoping that Grian would be the exception. Tommy was admittedly, a beginner in every weapon except the sword, and he primarily fought in the 1.8 fashion. What he saw during the breakout was a hybrid of 1.8 and 1.9. It was something he has never seen before, and he was determined to not be brushed aside again.

 But Grian was making him work hard for it.

 Grian was more interested in long-term survival, which was something he couldn’t really argue against. But now with their house, supplies, and the beginnings of a second building for the forge, Tommy wanted those lessons. But Grian gave him excuses that usually left him in the big strip mine that left his arms shaky after hours of mining. 

 But he finally got his chance. 

 A few days after the traders passed through, Tommy was cutting wood when Grian came out of the clearing. Earlier, he had left in search of clay in a nearby river. Tommy wasn’t interested in dredging up mud in search of clay so for once, he refused to come along. 

 But Grian was only gone for a few hours before returning, looking fairly irritable. Grian looked so peeved that Tommy’s normally dormant self-preservation instincts prodded him to escape into the mines for a few hours. 

 So he left to willingly mine. But when he poked his head out of the mines a few hours later, he noticed shredded wood planks strewn all over the clearing. He followed the trail to a beaten-up tree that Grian seemed to have taken his anger on. Tommy was quick to notice that other trees seemed to have similar patterns and he bit down his urge to return to the mines.

 As a little apprehensive as he was, he was still quite curious to see what Grian was doing. So he walked around to the other side of the house and was met with the shock of his life. Grian was hacking trees with a chipped iron sword, but that wasn’t what had him so shocked.

 No, it was the purple feathered wings on his back.

 His wingspan was bigger than Philza’s, which was saying something because Phil had a 10-foot wingspan. His feathers were a beautiful shade of purple, dark at the tips which slowly faded to a lighter color closer to his shoulders. But his wings were also messy, with the feathers crinkled in certain areas.

 Tommy now understood Grian’s declining mood. He was irritable because he needed his wings preened. 

“Hey, Grian?”

 Tommy shrunk under the dark glare that Grian sent him. Grian’s glare lightened to a slightly more apologetic one. “Sorry Tommy, I’m just in a bad mood.”

 Tommy snorted as he gestured to the extra appendages. “I can tell. Philza usually gets irritable if they are not preened every day so I have no clue how you’ve lasted almost three weeks,” Tommy said, earning an annoyed huff from Grian.

“I was hoping to keep them hidden for as long as possible,” Grian admitted, dropping his iron sword and walking over to him. Thankfully, his body language was a lot more relaxed, or else Tommy would have booked it to the mines again. 

 Seeing Grian’s miserable form had his mind racing as he shifted his weight uneasily. “I can preen,” Tommy tentatively offered. Grian stilled and Tommy took an uneasy step back.

 Philza let him preen only after a year of knowing him and getting close. He was offering to preen Grian when he’d only known the builder for less than a month. Avians, he’d noticed, are very protective of their wings.

 It made sense to Tommy. It was impossible to be born an avian hybrid. Late Gen 1’s and Early Gen 2’s were usually kidnapped and tested on, in illegal labs, which led to a lot of hybrids that were physically impossible to find. Some examples would be animals that could only be found in mods, like insect hybrids. 

 Philza was tight-lipped about his change, but Tommy was smart enough to know that it was the reason why he isolated himself in his hardcore world for five centuries before he inevitably died and had to restart. 

 Now, Grian wasn’t Philza. Grian simply hid his wings in public, unlike Phil who showed them off with pride. Would Grian trust him enough to keep this secret? Tommy was still scared of the thought of Grian leaving him for dead. “I’ve preened Philza before,” Tommy added, hoping it would help his case. Grian stared at him suspiciously before drooping his wings. 

“I have never let anyone preen my wings outside of Taurtis and Mumbo,” Grian warned with a glare. “I don’t know how my instincts will handle having you behind my back.” 

 So that’s why Grian always faced him. It was a small detail that he never noticed until now. “I can put my entire inventory away in the cabin and we can do it out here,” Tommy offered again. Grian crossed his arms and looked away in deep thought. He was struggling with this far more than Tommy initially expected.

“... I suppose. It helps that you are a kid and your fighting skills are not on par on mine.”

 Tommy bit down an insult. He was treading on thin ice and he knew it. He didn’t want to leave Grian disgruntled because his irritability would just affect their relationship down the line. This was something that had to be taken care of now. 

 So, Tommy quickly ran to the cabin, dumbed his inventory into a chest, and ran back out. Grian had set down two logs and he was standing beside them with clear disdain. Tommy swallowed and slowly approached Grian with his hands in sight

 There was no way for Grian to know if he did empty his entire inventory without some sort of hack. This was all trust, and Tommy was unsure if he had spent enough time together with Grian to warrant that level of trust. Most avians would not let a stranger near, and Tommy knew he was the equivalent of a trusted stranger; a neighbor of yours you knew on sight but never talked to.

 Tommy sat down, and with a final warning glare, Grian followed suit. Tommy placed his hand in his lap as Grian stood stiff. His wings were puffed up and rigid.

“I’m gonna touch your left wing,” Tommy warned. He figured that telling Grian what he was doing would help the man a lot. Grian shuddered and flexed his left wing out for easier access. Tommy spotted crinkled feathers but no blood feathers, to his relief. 

 Grian might have decked him if he had to work a blood feather.

 He carefully combed his hand through the feathers, working out the dirt and grit with his nails. Slowly but surely, Grian physically relaxed. Tommy smiled and relaxed as well now that his life wasn’t in jeopardy. 

 Tommy didn’t even need to tell Grian that he was going to work on his right wing. Grian simply lifted his right wing when Tommy pulled away from his left one. All in all, Tommy was kind of impressed that Grian hadn’t fallen asleep. Philza often did, regardless of who was around to watch. 

 When Tommy finished the right wing, Grian stood up and walked off, shaking his wings as he did so. Tommy gave him space as Grian stood straight and flexed his wings. They were definitely unique. Most avians had colors that helped with some sort of camouflage. Grian was once again, the exception to his knowledge. 

 Tommy left Grian to his own devices to grab his items. When he came back outside, Grian had hidden his wings and equipped his armor. There was a slight sparkle to his eyes that Tommy had never seen before when Grian smiled at him. It made him feel kind of giddy.

 He eagerly ran over to Grian with his own smile. “Feeling better Big G?” Tommy asked. Grian rolled his eyes fondly and chuckled. “Yes yes, all thanks to you Tommy,” Grian agreed as Tommy reigned in his excitement.

“Is there anything you want to do?” Grian offered, glancing up to the sky. “It’s a little too late to start any projects.” 

 Tommy grinned. “Oh yeah there is something I’ve been wanting to do for weeks,” Tommy drawled, earning a slightly wary look from Grian. “I want you to teach me your PVP style, in exchange for preening sessions.”

 Grian had a slightly baffled look as he looked between Tommy and the shredded planks on the ground. “You want a builder to teach you PVP?” Grian asked with wide eyes. Tommy nodded his head vigorously and slapped his hand against Grian’s shoulder.

“Your PVP skills are on par with the Blade. You single-handedly got us out of that prison. You are a formidable opponent in the PVP community and people don’t even realize it!” Tommy exclaimed as Grian raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Tommy let out a dramatic sigh. 

“So please teach me your ways,” Tommy pleaded.

“You won’t stop whining if I refuse,” Grian grumbled, looking defeated. 

“And you’re getting something in return,” Tommy agreed as Grian let out a defeated sigh. 

 Today sparked another level of their friendship. Tomorrow, his training arc will begin!