Chapter Text
Pearl’s Pov
They had been running for what felt like hours now, although Pearl knew it had only been at most twenty minutes. The Watchers weren’t giving up anytime soon though, and she and one of her three older brothers, Grian, knew that. However, they desperately needed the food and water they had just stolen from the most popular marketplace or else they wouldn’t survive the next couple of days.
Pearl felt an apple start to slip from her hands, and she quickly adjusted her grip. Unfortunately, she forgot that a second is all the Watchers need. Pearl had slowed down just enough during her adjustment that she could practically feel their foul-smelling breath on her neck. They had to find a way to lose them, fast.
Grian caught her eye and nodded towards a seemingly random spot in the abandoned End metropolis, but Pearl knew better. It was one of their many “safehouses” in case they needed to split up and couldn’t find one another. Operation Pesky Bird, Pearl almost smiled to herself.
One of her personal favorites, and it worked like a charm every time. Almost two seconds later, Grian pretended to trip on a nonexistent rock, causing the Watchers’ attention to switch on him. In that time, Pearl had kicked the taller one in the face, grabbed some of Grian’s loot, and then disappeared. The two Watchers were confused, but the taller one was quick to recover, whispering to the other in their language. Definitely one of their most common hunters.
This might not work out, Pearl thought nervously, smothering her breathing (Her lungs were desperately trying to replenish her oxygen levels after all that running, and she could practically hear her body scold her from lack of relief) with her calloused and bruised hands. She had slipped into the “safehouse” hole into an eroded cave of Endstone, long forgotten after the Watchers had started their tyrant reign of the servers. Hardly anybody left in the Watcher’s main world needed to mine or work or even think anymore.
Sometimes Pearl wished she could feel the same.
Sometimes Pearl wished she could end the day with a full stomach, just like the good old days.
Sometimes Pearl wished Grian had just stayed put, never fought the Ender Dragon, never jumped into the portal, never became one of them.
Before Pearl could hopelessly wish any more, she heard the sickening crack of someone’s bones. All she could do is pray that those bones weren’t Grian’s.
Grian’s Pov
All Grian had to do was knock them out, incapacitate them, hell, at the very least distract them. But he had done something much, much worse. The shorter Watcher was on the scuffed ground, coughing out blood but still hanging onto life. He had nearly killed one.
His deep fears that he thought he buried bubbled up again, memories from the Watcher’s training he had long forgotten. Grian had committed crimes, sure, but this one would result in a punishment worse than death. He remembered attending one of the many courtrooms in the Watcher’s utopia, being pressured into being the Judge as “part of his training”, but knowing they were trying to break his kind Player spirit he still had deep down. One of the poor people he had to judge had stabbed a Watcher, publicly. (The Watcher had lived.) Grian had to look as they were tortured in a way he couldn’t even describe. It was terrifying. So how bad would breaking a Watcher’s neck punishment be, if they were ever caught?
The Watcher he had just nearly killed was screeching with rage in Galactic. Even the taller Watcher looked fearful of them. "ᓵ⚍∷ᓭᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ʖ╎ℸ ̣ ᓵ⍑, ||𝙹⚍'ꖎꖎ ∷ᒷ⊣∷ᒷℸ ̣ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ↸ᔑ|| ||𝙹⚍ ᒷ⍊ᒷ∷ ᓵᔑᒲᒷ ʖ∷ᒷᔑℸ ̣ ⍑╎リ⊣ リᒷᔑ∷ ᒲᒷ. ↸╎⍊╎リ╎ℸ ̣ ||, ᔑꖎᒷ∷ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ 𝙹ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ᓭ. ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ...ᓵ⍑╎ꖎ↸ ∴╎ꖎꖎ ᓭ⚍⎓⎓ᒷ∷.” I’m screwed. Grian started to run, quickly translating automatically what the Watcher had screamed out. I am absolutely fucking screwed. “ᓵᒷꖎ||リ, ⍑ᒷ'ᓭ ⊣ᒷℸ ̣ ℸ ̣ ╎リ⊣ ᔑ∴ᔑ||! ᓭℸ ̣ ᔑ|| ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ, ⍑𝙹!¡ᒷ⎓⚍ꖎꖎ|| ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷ ᒲᒷ↸╎ᓵᓭ ∴╎ꖎꖎ ℸ ̣ ᔑꖌᒷ ᓵᔑ∷ᒷ 𝙹⎓ ||𝙹⚍." "╎ ↸𝙹リ'ℸ ̣ リᒷᒷ↸ ℸ ̣ ᔑꖌ╎リ⊣ ᓵᔑ∷ᒷ 𝙹⎓, ʖ⚍ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑリꖌ ||𝙹⚍." Grian could hear their voices fading as he got further and further away.
He was escaping them! Good. But he started to hear more and more wings flap in the distance. An army was forming to avenge Celyn. Bad. But before he could think of a plan, someone snatched him and covered his mouth so no sound escaped. Still winded from running, the hands let him have no air, and he felt black spots cloud his vision. I’m going to pass out, Grian scolded himself for not being more careful with his surroundings. He felt extremely annoyed as well. He wasn’t even going to die from the Watchers! The hands were clearly Player hands, as they were imperfect and worn from years of use. The Watchers, due to their god-like abilities, had perfect skin and could mend any scratch, burn or bruise.
He was going to die from a measly player. One of the most terrible days of my life, Grian thought as he finally succumbed to the darkness.
Scar’s Pov
“Joel, for Void’s sake, stop laughing at him for one second.”
Scar did his best to sound calm, but he was deeply annoyed at his younger brother. “B-But he’s such an idiot! I could hear him whispering to himself about how he was going to die! He thought I was going to kill him! Me!” Joel managed to get out before collapsing into a fit of giggles. “Joel…” Scar rolled his eyes. “You can’t blame him, even I would’ve thought I was getting kidnapped.” Joel wiped his eyes and let out a final snort.
“I know, I know. Still, dramatic much? He knows we’re the only ones capable of any crime these days. Also, I saved him from a pack of Watchers. When he wakes up he should be kissing my feet and giving me a crown. King Joel…kind of has a ring to it.” They stopped as they heard grunting from Grian. He opened his eyes, took one look around the alley and the people that were gawking at him, and sighed. “I should’ve known. Only you guys would make a rescue mission seem like a kidnapping. Especially you, little baby bro.” Joel huffed. “One, you are older by five minutes. Two-” “Two, don’t pull me into this. Jellie and I saw your scuffle and told Joel to assist! But thank you Joel, for reminding me why I never ask for your help.”
Joel put his hand to his forehead in mock despair. “Oh no, an insult to my ego!” The three were silent, then chuckled at one another. Scar enjoyed these fleeting moments between his siblings, the joy before the bad news. Scar had to stay behind on the little excursions his siblings went out on, mostly due to him being confined to his wheelchair. But deep down, he wondered if he could be of any use at all. He had always considered himself a pacifist, and had yet to be in any situation that proved him wrong. So he was happy to be the lookout, using the various elevator-like contraptions to get onto buildings. In fact, most people would consider him to be the most important part in any plan. He would be the eyes in any dangerous situation.
Super Scar, with his sidekick, the stray cat Jellie! The thought made him smile, but also totally tune out on literally everything Grian and Joel had just said. “Do you mind repeating that?” Scar asked sheepishly. “Augghhh, okay. Pearl escaped into one of the safe places while Grian and her were running from the Watchers. Problem is, it’s the one place that doesn’t have any way to go back to our main base. So she’s stuck with a bunch of Watcher’s smack dab on top of her.” Joel grimaced as Scar’s face fell.
“We have to do something!” Scar panicked, almost falling over in his wheelchair. “Woah, woah, Scar, it’s alright. You don’t need to come if you don’t want to.” Grian grabbed onto his brother's shoulders, steadying him. But Scar was determined. “No, I’m coming with you guys. Pearl needs us.”
And so, the road to the Beginning of the End laid its first stones.