Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was time for another Death Game – Limited Life.

The usual Players had been Taken from their servers once again, with Skizz returning and Ren and Mumbo staying on Hermitcraft.

This time, there was a major twist to the regular rules of the Games – instead of the usual three lives, every Player had a timer, ticking away from 24:00 to 0:00. If a Player was above sixteen hours, they were Green, once they hit sixteen hours, they would become Yellow, and when they were below eight, they would turn Red and become hostile. Greens couldn't kill except in self-defense, Yellows could kill Greens, and Reds could kill anyone. A successful kill on someone gave the killer thirty minutes, while the victim would lose an hour, so the incentive to murder was high. If you had no time left, you would become a spectator.

(Of course, in reality, the 'hours' on the server were more like days, since the Watchers didn't want the Game to end too quickly.)

The Boogeyman mechanic from back in Last Life made a return, this time as a means to gain more time – a successful Boogey kill would give the Boogey an entire hour back, while getting killed by one would mean losing two whole hours.

That season was a particularly eventful one, containing multiple teams, a quadruple kill by Grian, not one, but two Bread Bridges, a Skynet, an unexpected new Watcher – one that was thankfully not part of his Flock – in BigB, and, of course, his Bad Boys – Jimmy Solidarity and Joel Smallishbeans (if Xelqua felt a phantom tug of a Flock bond towards Joel, he said nothing. Joel wasn't even a Watcher! That had to have been a fluke, right?). It also contained multiple deaths – most of them being the outcome of his actions.

However the thing that had been the biggest surprise – to Grian, as well as to the other Players – was the fact that, right around the fifth day of the Death Game – or, the 'Third Session' as the Higher Watchers would call them – Grian was forcefully removed from the server – or rather, as removed as he could have been, considering the spaghetti he'd turned the code into when trying to insert himself into the Game back in Third Life. His very being was pretty much completely entangled with the server's code, his physical body was almost part of it by now. They couldn't remove him entirely if They tried – and They tried.

'<Grian> Etho meet at mansion NOW' said the message on Etho's communicator on the fifth day. '<Grian> its you know what related come here NOW'.

And just like that, after a quick trip through the Nether, Etho found himself on top of the mansion, with three Bad Boys in front of him. If he hadn't figured out that something was wrong already, he would have now, judging by the faces of the three: Jimmy looked scared out of his mind, Joel looked incredibly confused and Grian... Well, Grian looked like death, that was the only way to put it, really. His wings were all puffed up and messy, he was pale, his hair had white strands in it and his eyes were constantly flickering between Green and Purple.

Etho frowned. "What's going on-" Grian – Xelqua? – cut him off, grabbing his hand and clutching onto it.

The Third's shaking voice was echoing even as he whispered. "Contra, I'm kind of sick right now, if you couldn't tell, and I don't have as much control-" He hissed, violet eyes squeezed shut. "-over myself as I'd like. I think They want to use that, I think They want me to Watch. They're going to make me Watch, please- I don't think They can keep me there, so don't follow. I swear to everything that is holy, Contra, do not follow, you need to stay here." Xelqua coughed, wincing. "Understand? Stay. Stay with the rest, make sure they don't try to get me back. Please. Promise me that. I'll be back, I swear I'll come back, just keep them away from the Others. Please." And suddenly Porta's fear made complete sense.

"I-" Etho – Contra? – didn't even know how to respond to that request. "Wait. Wait, what do you mean They want you to Watch, how, why?"

"I- Remember when the mansion was all empty and stuff, right at the start, and then it was back to normal? Yeah. Yeah, that was me. I, uh, I found a way to access the Admin console – and believe me, I did try getting us all out at first, I really did, but nothing worked – and I just kinda... yeah." Even Xelqua's laughter sounded panicked. "Please. They- I can feel Them trying to- Just please, keep yourselves safe, okay? Promise, Contra."

"Oh my Void, I- I swear, I swear, Xel- Grian!" But Xelqua was already gone, his motionless body slumping forward on the llama with his consciousness flung outside to Watch alongside the Others. His entire body was relaxed, and yet his wings were pressed tightly against his back. A thought of 'He looks so small like this.' found its way to Etho's mind.

Joel kept looking between Etho and Jimmy, with an absolutely perplexed expression. "Can anyone tell me what the hell just happened!?"

Contra looked at Porta to ask 'do you think he knows?', but the Canary Watcher shook his head when Joel looked away for a second. Etho just shrugged. "Uh, Grian's sick, so he just... went AFK. You know, he fell asleep-" And, for a moment, Etho met Joel's eyes and another entirely silent conversation took place. (Because the 'he' in question – the one who didn't know – was actually Porta, not Joel.)

'Is it the thing?' Joel's eyes seemed to ask.

'It's the thing.' Etho's answered.

'Aight.' Joel turned away, starting to pace. "I know what bloody AFK means!" He yelled out loud – to keep up appearances in front of Jimmy, mostly. And there was a sudden, thundering echo to Joel's voice – one that clearly hadn't been meant to be there – there was a purple lightning in his eyes that made Jimmy wonder whether there would be yet another Watcher in the Death Game, but... no. No, what was he thinking, surely, Joel wasn't a Watcher! Right? (Contra died a little in that moment, because, wow, Joel just did not know how to hide this, did he?) Joel stopped suddenly. "I know what AFK means, Etho, I just- Why would he-" He shook his head, groaning. "What are we supposed to do with him now!?" And wasn't that the question.

"I mean, he's in your team, you figure that out." Etho tilted his head, smirking when he saw Joel scowling. The glistening, violet string that still linked their hands tugged on his finger. Jimmy distracted Joel by asking how they'd deal with Grian being AFK, allowing Etho to think how he would deal with the situation at hand. Xelqua had entrusted the Flock to him and he didn't want to... disappoint him? Something like that. His eye glowed purple for a moment, letting him See the dozens of other Eyes Watching. He knew that some of them were Xelqua's, so he just nodded at them and took out his communicator. He disregarded the fact that both Porta's and Joel's eyes were glowing purple in his Vision.

'<Etho> Scar Pearl Martyn come to the mansion now it's important'

'<InTheLittleWood> ???'

'<Tango> what's going on?'

'<Etho> nothing that concerns you, Martyn Scar Pearl come here NOW' He guessed he shouldn't have been so harsh on Tango, but the overprotective Watcher instincts had taken over for a moment.

'<Etho> sorry for that Tango, love you bro!' There, that was better.

It was funny, the way Jimmy thought Joel had no idea of what was going on, when actually, Joel knew way more than he was letting on. Because Joel was Contra's Flockmate – only his, not anyone else's. Just like Porta had two Flocks, one with Scott and Tango, the other with the rest of them, so did Contra, having a separate Flockbond with Vindicta. So did Xelqua, in a way – his bond with Nota was... different from the ones he had with the rest of the Flock.

Everyone thought there were now seven Watchers, or Watcher-hybrids on the server – Xelqua, Nota, Luna, Porta, Umbra, Contra, and BigB (who hadn't shared his Name, as far as Etho was aware) – which wasn't entirely true.

There weren't seven Watchers on the server. There were eight.

Because Joel, Vindicta, was also a Watcher-hybrid.

Etho had told Joel that he was a Watcher pretty much right after they found out they were soulbound in Double Life, since nobody was sure whether the partnerships wouldn't mean people swapping hybrid traits (which thankfully had not actually happened) – and he guessed that Joel becoming one, too, was actually kind of his fault. Well, not 'kind of', it was his fault, there was no denying that.

After hearing some of Etho's stories, Joel got interested in the Watchers, went snooping where he shouldn't have snooped and... what he'd told Etho was that the Higher Ones – Primis and Secundus – had found him 'snooping around on some ancient server he never should have gone to' and They kind of just... Took him, made him a Watcher-hybrid, gave him a Name, and then put him right back in his Hardcore base – hyperventilating and on the verge of a heart attack. Joel – or, Vindicta, now – called up Contra immediately, shouting through the communicator to get to him right then and there 'or else'. Contra immediately logged on – which was quite easy to do actually, since the Others had already broken past that world's protections – and... helped Joel pick up the pieces of his broken being. It had taken him a whole day to convince Joel that he was not an entirely different person now and that everything would be fine. The violet string linking them had appeared that night, as did Joel's wings – almost fully white, with a few purple feathers. That ordeal had been painful – Etho had never heard Joel swear as much as that night – but at least Contra was there to show Vindicta how to preen his wings – and get his own white hawk wings preened as well – so that was nice.

Vindicta had Contra swear not to tell anyone else – not Grian, not anyone in the Death Games, nobody – about what he now was. Contra said he'd keep his word – unless Grian asked him directly, since he would figure it out anyway. Joel agreed to those terms. And so began a training arc of sorts – with Contra leaving Hermitcraft for a while every two days or so and hopping over onto his and Joel's private server to help Vindicta learn about everything that being a Watcher entailed.

That was also when Contra told Joel about his Flock, about Xelqua, Nota, and the others. Joel was... not quite as surprised as Contra expected he would be, when he'd learned that Grian had been a Watcher the entire time he'd known him.

'Makes sense.' He'd said, and they left it at that.

So far, nobody on Limited Life had noticed Joel's Watcher features – and, if they had, nobody had ever mentioned it. Etho considered that a success. Joel considered that a compliment to his acting skills – Etho didn't share that sentiment.

He frowned at Grian's body, AFK on a llama, and took out his communicator.

'<Etho> guys are you coming or not'

'<GoodTimeWithScar> be there in five dad' Etho just shook his head.

Scar arrived first, closely followed by Pearl and, after a longer while, Martyn.

"What happened?" Scar asked, tilting his head as he watched Grian's unconscious body closely. They were all sitting on Bread Bridge, waiting for Jimmy to come back. "Why is he like this?"

"Well, what he told me is that They wanted to make him Watch for a while, as a punishment for fixing the mansion. His Sight should be somewhere around here." Etho noticed Jimmy running up to meet them, after managing to focus Joel's attention on something else. "Hey, Porta." The Listener-hybrid's wings were fluttering anxiously.

"I- Oh my gosh, this will be a disaster." His eyes were flashing purple in distress. "Contra, you've seen what's happened to Joel, right?"

"I..." Crap, Etho needed an excuse. "Uh, yeah, what's up with that?" Smooth. "Has that ever happened before, or..." He trailed off, when he saw Jimmy shaking his head.

"No, never! I- to be honest, I was just about to ask you that question! He's never shown any... signs, during Double Life?"

Etho ran a hand through his hair. "None that I've noticed." He hated the fact that he had to cover for Joel like that, but Porta... wouldn't understand. And, well, technically that wasn't a lie, right? "And I... I think I would have noticed." He sighed. "He wasn't awake at the start of this season, was he?" And wasn't that another mystery? Why hadn't he been awake? Unless he'd been faking...

Porta shook his head. "No, I don't think he was."

"So, wait, is he just gonna... stay like that?" Pearl's Eyes focused on the ones that – she hoped – were Xelqua's. "Will They ever... you know, bring him back? Will he be Taken again?" Her voice broke at the thought of Xelqua being stuck in that horrible place again.

"Wait, yeah. Contra, did he say anything on whether he'll be allowed to Play still, or not?" Martyn asked, frowning at his communicator.

"He told me he'll be back. He said that They wouldn't be able keep him up there. When exactly he'll be back, he didn't say. Scar!"

Scar was poking Grian's arm, trying to see if he would move at all. "What? I'm just checking!"

Etho facepalmed with a sigh. Managing those chaotic Fledgelings would be a much more challenging job than he'd expected.

In the end, Grian would come back to his body being stuck in a box deep in the ground, with 14 hours left on the clock and a very sore back – probably from all the constant explosions his body had endured. Etho had done alright in his absence, managing to keep the Flock away from the prying Eyes and occupied with different things – even though Scar had managed to kill him once and then Martyn accidentally killed him again.

Thankfully, that was the only major Watcher-related incident that would happen to Grian... at least before the Eighth Session.

At the beginning of that Session, Grian found himself staying in the Nosy Neighbours' tower – which was really aptly named considering all of them were Watchers or Watcher hybrids – with both of his Bad Boys dead and gone. (And, if Joel's eyes flashed a terrified purple as he died for that last time, Grian didn't see it.

...At least, that was what he told himself, despite knowing full well that he'd Seen that happen with his own Eyes. They'd wanted him to witness the deaths of both of his teammates, after all. He didn't know what the purple in Joel's eyes meant. Joel wasn't a Watcher, Grian would have known if he was. Right? Etho stayed eerily silent when Grian asked him about that, glancing down at his fist, as if something was there. Grian would have to ask him about that after the Game.

He decided to ignore the way the Name 'Vindicta' popped into his head insistently, every time he saw Joel. That meant nothing, right?)

By the end of it... well.

He had barely under an hour left, he was up on Skynet 2.0, also known as the 'MRye5', and he was running to get to his current allies – whoever they were – when suddenly he almost felt someone push him and tip him over the edge-

They pushed him off just like They had Jimmy-

They couldn't have allowed him to take the win again, after all-

He slipped.

He slipped and he fell off.

Grian.

          Was.

                  Falling.

It was just like Third Life, in a way, he thought absentmindedly, watching the ground coming closer and closer. Just like in Third Life, he'd killed Scar and now he was falling to his death.

He hated irony.

Scar may have been Icarus – his Icarus – during Third Life and before it, but Grian was the Sun falling into Chaos.

He remembered Mumbo telling him about something called the 'golden hour' years before that moment. It was something every photographer knew about, 'the period of time just after sunrise or just before sunset when the sunlight is infused with red and gold tones'.

Grian felt like he became the embodiment of 'golden hour' in that moment.

Xelqua's world turned into flames and he burned with it.

He couldn't feel anything but that.

Fire. Flames. Heat. Burning.

He was burning, even though he couldn't be burning.

He could feel hairs standing on the back of his neck, as lightning started racing against him in the fall.

He attempted to catch himself, spreading his wings, but he couldn't. Of course he couldn't – he'd forgotten his wings were clipped, like in every Death Game. He couldn't be saved by them, just like Jimmy couldn't have saved himself with his own.

He felt like Icarus.

He couldn't even feel the impact, as he hit the ground. He didn't even think there was any actual ground under him.

He burned all the way down.

All the way into the darkness he remembered so clearly from Session Three.

All the way back to become Nothing.

All the way back to stay Watching, like he was always meant to.

He'd been a fool for thinking he could ever escape Them.

But suddenly something grabbed onto him. Someone was keeping him from returning.

"Get off of him!" A voice. A familiar, echoing voice. Nota. That was Nota.

His voice kept Xelqua from drowning in the Void.

"Leave him alone, you-!" Nota's voice was pulling him upwards. "Come on. Come on, Xel, don't you dare quit on me now!" Something pulled on his finger.

He resurfaced, gasping for air, as if he could still breathe.

He was clutching, clinging onto Scar like he was a lifeline, because maybe he was one. Maybe he always had been. Maybe he always would be.

Despite the fact that Grian had taken him out of the series three times now.

"Scar-" He coughed. "Scar, I'm sorry." He realised he was echoing his exact words from Third Life, just like he'd echoed them right before killing Scar. "Scar, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I killed you again-" Again. Again. "I'm sorry, Scar."

Scar only smiled – but Grian could see the pain in his eyes. "It's okay, Grian. It's a Death Game, that's the goal – be the last one alive. It's fine." It wasn't. It clearly wasn't fine, but Grian nodded as if it was.

It was a Death Game, true – it was his Death Game. One he'd created in a futile attempt to appease the Higher Ones; one he'd created, ultimately, for Them – and himself – to feed on the Players' emotions. Because that was all Primis could feed on – emotions, fear, betrayal, hatred. Tertius and Secundus were different, they'd been Players, once, so emotions weren't the only thing they could consume. Though, where Tertius had tried to renounce his Watcher nature – trying to retain his humanity and, if necessary, feed mostly off the positive emotions in the Death Games, or feed on the negative ones in order to dampen them in the Players, trying to make the Players laugh in order to 'spoil the Others' meal' so to speak – Secundus had embraced it entirely.

"Who do you think will win?" Scar's voice stirred Grian out of his thoughts. His now-visible wings – which had somehow ended up hiding Grian like a coccoon – withdrew back, as Grian stretched his own.

"...They wouldn't let Scott win again, I don't think." He started flying over to where Scott and Impulse were talking, with Martyn stalking them from above. "It's between Martyn and Impulse."

'I hope it's Impulse.', he didn't say. That thought was harsh and it was cruel, but ultimately, it was true. Impulse was neither a Watcher, nor a Listener – he could potentially be saved by Contra. Scott wouldn't win again, because, for Them, that just wouldn't be entertaining enough. If the duel was honored and if Scott didn't pull off some insane trick, as long as Impulse won, he could still be saved. If Scott won, he could not be saved from Their wrath. Martyn couldn't either.

And yet, in some deep, dark corner of his mind, Tertius hoped to taste bitter betrayal.

"The duel won't happen, will it?" Scar took his hand, when they finally stopped above the final three. His purple-black wings were flapping and twitching – either out of stress, or out of relief that the Game was ending.

"Nah." Grian shook his head, Watching as the remaining Players killed themselves to make sure the duel would be fair. "I mean, it could, but I don't think so. Someone will betray."

'This is going to be fun.' Tertius laughed from the back of Grian's mind.

For once, Grian didn't object.

He was right, he thought, Watching Martyn's eyes turn Purple. Someone would betray. But-

'NO!' Grian screamed with no voice. 'NOT HIM!'

And yet he still couldn't look away.

He couldn't help but Watch, as Martyn set Scott aflame, stabbing him in the back and running to kill Impulse, becoming the last Player standing, all the while laughing like a maniac from the adrenaline rush. He couldn't help but Watch it happen and cackle right alongside the Winner, reeling from the rush of shock and betrayal filling the arena. The other, younger Watchers looked slightly dazed. Contra was glaring at the sky.

'YES!' The Watcher crowed within Grian, filled with glee. 'YES, PUNY PLAYERS! BETRAY EACH OTHER, THAT'S WHAT YOU WERE PUT HERE TO DO! THAT'S YOUR PURPOSE, THAT'S THE MEANING OF YOUR INSIGNIFICANT LIVES!' Grian hated himself for even thinking that. Those were his friends, not just a source of emotions, not just- not just his test subjects. Friends.

...Right?

Electricity and pure emotion thrummed through the air, the server's border cracking with purple light. The Fourth Winner was still laughing. The First Winner's eyes started glowing.

And then countless Purple Eyes blinked into being, shattering the unseen stars.

An Admin console appeared in front of Xelqua, a mask of the Watchers obscuring his violet eyes.

/kill InTheLittleWood was already typed in. No option to back out. No option to override it. No option to stop it. No option to spare him.

They would force his hand again. Of course They would.

Pearl, Scott and Scar were looking at him in fear, but they were the only ones to know what was happening.

"Xelqua?" Nota's voice was quiet, wavering in fear. Xelqua said nothing, squeezing his hand.

The other spectators were shouting to kill the last one standing, having no idea what truly came after Winning, failing to notice the mask on Xelqua's face, failing to notice the looming presences which only desired to use them for Their own amusement and sustenance.

It was just like Last Life.

Except, unlike Scott, Martyn had no-one who could reach him in time.

Unlike Scott, Martyn was already both a Listener and a Watcher – partially, but still.

Unlike Scott, Martyn was alone.

And, unlike Vox, Xelqua couldn't intervene.

/kill InTheLittleWood_ _ _

Execute command?

His shaking hand was hovering over the console. The other was still held by Nota.

He wanted to scream, wanted to howl, wanted to growl and scratch, and bite at the Watchers like a feral animal, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg Them to Take him instead – and yet he could do nothing but Watch himself sentence his Flock to death.

Martyn was looking straight at him, eyes flickering from blood-Red and a dark Purple – Their Purple, a Purple so dark it was almost black, because of course They would have found a way to increase his ever-growing Red thirst for blood, of course They would have influenced his betrayal – back to blue and Listener-yellow, then back to a softer, lighter purple – his purple. He stopped the maniacal laughter finally, all of the emotions leaving him towards the Higher Ones – Primis, Secundus, and Tertius – and nodded, swaying on his feet from the adrenaline drop.

He already knew what was awaiting him and – seemingly – didn't blame Xelqua.

They both knew it was inevitable.

That didn't mean Xelqua didn't wish he could give himself up instead.

/kill InTheLittleWood_ _ _

Execute command?

Grian was screaming.

Xelqua was numb.

Tertius pressed Enter.

Purple-tinted lightning struck Martyn down right where he stood.

'InTheLittleWood fell out of the world'

He let Them Take him.

Xelqua was numb.

The constant ticking in his ears finally stopped, replaced by blessed silence.

His headache finally went away.

But his Red-violet eyes never turned black.

Xelqua was falling.

Mars covered the Sun, the Stars, the Moon.

It was finally over.

And Martyn was gone.

The Winner was chosen.

The rest were disposed of.

Xelqua opened his Red eyes to Hermitcraft.

He was back at Xisuma's, with Scar, Pearl, and Etho landing pretty much directly on top of him in a heap, similarly dazed.

Etho and Pearl got up relatively quickly, but Scar hesitated. Xelqua stayed on his knees, head bowed down. Etho took one look at him and ran off to find Xisuma.

Mumbo, who had been sitting on the couch drinking tea, spilled his drink in his rush to get to them.

"Oh my goodness- X! X, they're back!" Mumbo shouted, before noticing the grim looks on their faces and frowning. "Wait- Grian, are you okay?" He fought back a shudder at the sight of bright Red eyes looking up at him.

"No-" Xelqua finally found his voice, weak and echoing, but there. "No- No, no, no- No-" Everything was going dark in flashes. He felt like he was drowning. "Martyn- They Took-" The entire room was moving, or maybe he was just shaking. He was still clutching onto Scar. "Scar- Nota, They Took Martyn-" Nota's eyes were still violet. Xelqua's eyes were still Red. "They Took Umbra- I let Them Take Umbra- I killed- I killed Umbra-"

Mumbo was clueless as to what he was talking about. "What do you mean-"

"I KILLED HIM!" He could finally scream. "I PRESSED ENTER ON A /KILL COMMAND, I FUCKING KILLED HIM!" His nails were digging into Scar's hand. "I KILLED HIM AND NOW HE'S THEIRS!"

He was screaming his throat hoarse. It hurt so much he probably wouldn't be able to speak the next day, but that didn't matter anyway, he didn't need to be able to speak, because apparently all he was good at was KILLING HIS FRIENDS AND WATCHING AS THEY DIED.

Xelqua was numb. Xelqua was numb. Xelqua was numb.

The blood on his hands was warm. Everything he saw was tinted purple and red, everything was flashing black. His hands were shaking, twitching, itching to kill. Again. It was the same awful trepidation he'd get after every Death Game, every single one – though maybe it hadn't been as bad after Double Life, because he was too preoccupied by Nota to even think about it right then. After Third Life, after Last Life, and now after Limited Life it was this high of excitement, a horrible rush of adrenaline, the urge to grab his sword and just do it all again. Because he could, technically and that was the worst thing about this.

They were on a server with infinite respawns now, he could technically just slaughter every single person in that room – besides Scar, of course; he didn't want to kill Scar, not again. He could just kill them all, maybe his hands would stop shaking then, but... he wouldn't. Obviously. Of course he wouldn't, why would he? Because he wanted to? He didn't. Not... his Player side, at least. His Watcher self did want to kill everyone around him – besides Scar. He guessed that was another part of being one of Them and participating in the Games. And Winning. Trapping. Killing. He curled his hands into fists slowly, keeping one stuck under Scar's hand. That felt... safer. Both for him and for the others.

Verba was saying something to him, but Xelqua had never been one to Listen, he couldn't Hear.

He could see Luna scream, probably for the Admin, but he couldn't Hear.

Nota was clutching his hand in an attempt to ground him, but Xelqua couldn't feel.

He almost wanted to say something, to reassure them, but he couldn't Speak.

They had been right, in the end.

He was only ever meant to Watch.

...So that was what he would do.

He remembered Limited Life's Third Session, the one when he'd been sick and the Others used that moment of vulnerability and his temporarily-lowered defenses to disrupt his connection to his physical – fake, fake, fake – form, forcing him out to make him Watch. A fitting punishment for managing to unlock his Admin console and replacing the empty mansion.

He'd never been able to purposefully do that himself, he'd never dissociated from his physical being so hard as to rip his consciousness out and become purely one of Them, even for a moment, leaving his body entirely, taking in every sight all at once – he'd done it twice now on accident, once when he first became a Watcher, and again, when Scar became Nota. The thing he'd done on the Empires server was... different. That had been purposeful. That, he'd meant to do. That thing had been a mechanism he'd known of before.

This would be different, he knew.

He'd never forcefully removed his consciousness, his Sight, from his physical body, he wasn't sure if he could even do that.

Now, it seemed like he would have to try and do just that.

Though... if the soulbond was still in place, could Nota also be pulled outside his own body to Watch with him? During the Game, he hadn't been, because all connections were broken. Outside of it, though...

Xelqua shook his head. That didn't matter. He had to try. He had to try, because those were his Games, his servers.

It was his fault that Martyn was gone.

He didn't know whether he'd be able to come back from that, but that didn't matter.

What mattered was locating Martyn's current location.

He noticed Contra run back into the room, Xisuma right behind him, looking terrified as he took in how every one of them looked – like they'd been through hell, probably, which wasn't that far from the truth.

Xelqua breathed in and shook his head, trying to get back into the mindset of Tertius, of the Third Watcher. He hated himself for having to do that. His eyes burned violet.

His voice echoed. "Verba." Mumbo's eyes instantly focused on him. "Do not even attempt Watching alongside me until I come back, it will not help. Understand? Promise me."

"Until you come back from where?"

"Verba, promise."

"I- I promise." Mumbo sounded... scared. "I- Wait, but I could help you! Look!" He manifested a small End Crystal onto his palm, violet eyes wide and desperate. "I can help!"

"I said no." A vision of cornering Mumbo on that bridge in Last Life flashed before Xelqua's burning purple eyes, as he shook his head vehemently, sharpened teeth bared. "No, Verba. No way. I'm not letting you put yourself in danger like that, understand? Stay put. That's an order."

"..." Verba narrowed his eyes, and Xelqua knew how much he wanted to call out the hypocrisy there, but he gave up the fight after seeing how serious Xelqua actually was. "Fine. I'll stay." His glare said 'but I won't like it.'

Xelqua nodded. "Good." He looked to Etho. "Contra, you swore to be my sword during the Game. Does that offer still stand?"

Contra narrowed his eyes, but nodded, hand on the hilt of his netherite sword. "I am still your sword, Xelqua. I'll follow you. Just say the word." He bowed his head.

Xelqua's eyes glowed, as he hissed. "Follow me, then, sword." He turned to Scar. "Nota. Will you, too, come with me?" His Chosen only took Xelqua's hand into his own, tangling them in the thin purple string that linked them and that was answer enough.

"I've followed you into battle, I'll follow you through hell." Nota had a smirk on his face. Xelqua nodded, an unexplainable emotion shining in his purple eyes, before he looked away.

"Then it is decided. We leave as soon as we're ready. There's no time to waste here." He glared at Xisuma. "Do not try to stop us, Admin."

X hesitated. "I- I won't." That was an obvious lie. Xelqua felt almost wounded by the obviousness of it, really. "But- first, could you please explain what happened?"

Xelqua looked back to the other Limited Life Players, noticing their tired eyes. "Fine." He hissed out. "They need the rest anyways. But as soon as that's done, me, Contra and Quartum are leaving." Nobody dared object. "Well, then. As you know, there's been another Death Game, Limited Life..." Xelqua's eyes glowed, as he started summarising the events of the fourth Death Game.

...Twenty minutes at most, then they'd be gone.

He had to find Martyn.

Chapter Text

Limited Life was... interesting, Jimmy had to admit. Xelqua – because, yes, now he knew that Xelqua was the one to make these Death Games and Void, that sent him into a whole other crisis – had really outdone himself with the mechanics of this one. Timers instead of lives, the Boogey making a comeback? All of that made for a really entertaining Death Game, both for the Players and for the Watchers, probably.

The wing-clipping at the beginning wasn't so nice, though he guessed it was 'necessary' for the purposes of the Game. This was the first time he'd been conscious for it, as was the case for every other Watcher there but Xelqua. The five members of his Flock and – apparently – BigB, who had somehow managed to become a Watcher in-between the Death Games, were the only ones awake out of the group.

Jimmy remembered standing on the roof of the mansion with Scott opposite him, expression unreadable. He was Yellow, with 12 hours left on the clock.

"If you can kill Tango and leave me to last Green, I'll let you kill me." Jimmy's breath caught in his throat at Scott's words. The familiar feeling of a thread tightening around his ring finger and throat at the same time made him almost choke. He felt a phantom burn of scorching fingers touching his hand, instinctively curling it into a fist. Tango...

His yellow wings fluttered. "Scott, I'm gonna give you thirty seconds to run and go somewhere else." He hoped his face didn't show his nerves – and that threat wasn't just because Scott mentioned Tango either, Jimmy just had to, he had to, he needed the time-

"Okay." Scott's expression didn't change as he nodded, unphased by the threat.

"Before I start... hunting you down." Poppies in his hair, blood-red petals adorning his faded blonde hair, poppy petals falling onto his grave- 'Beloved Husband', the inscription had read- "Okay?" No, Jimmy shook the thoughts of poppy sunsets out of his head. He couldn't think of that, they weren't in Third Life anymore, there were no poppies anywhere near them- Could Scott just go already?

"Okay. Alright, love you! Say it back." Scott's voice was ringing in Jimmy's ears, something intangible tugging at his ring finger, something almost making him strain to Listen. "Say 'love you' back." Jimmy ignored the way Scott's 'love you' stayed echoing in his ears.

"Thirty seconds." He couldn't break. This was a Death Game for Void's sake! He needed the time. "Thirty seconds."

Scott was relentless. "Say 'love you' back." Poppies in Jimmy's hair, his hand fitting perfectly in Scott's, Scott kissing his forehead, their peaceful valley, the lava, the bomb, the bunker in the Voiddamned desert-

"Thirty seconds." His facade didn't waver for a moment. He couldn't break. Not now. Not now.

Scott narrowed his mismatched eyes, tone getting sharper in annoyance. "I gave you a Pufferfish of Peace, Jimmy." Oh, he felt a painful tug in his heart at that one. His hand twitched, almost as if to stop Scott from turning around and leaving, but he grabbed it with his other hand, sharpened nails digging into his wrist to stop it from doing just that. He said nothing. It felt like the two threads tied to his left hand were wrapping themselves around his throat and tightening, watching Scott leaving while singing some dumb song, and still, Jimmy said nothing. He'd lost that pufferfish a long time before that day, anyway.

He remembered feeling freezing hands push him off the ledge along with his TNT minecart, remembered tipping over and spreading his canary wings in a futile attempt to slow his descent before he remembered that they'd been clipped.

He remembered the dread he'd felt then, as his foot left the bridge.

He fell.

Of course he fell. He couldn't win. He wasn't fierce like the Sun, he wasn't cunning like the Star, he wasn't mad like the Moon, he wasn't determined like Mars.

He remembered falling.

He didn't remember crashing.

Canary call, the first to fall. Again.

"Martyn-!" Jimmy's eyes shot open, as he woke up back in Tumbletown. Deputy Norman meowed in alarm, as he was suddenly forced to relocate from the bed he'd been occupying in his owner's absence, but Jimmy was too panicked to see him. He had to leave, he had to get to Hermitcraft right then and there. He'd never be able to calm down his breathing otherwise.

But he wouldn't be able to disappear unannounced, would he? Fwhip was at the end of his wits, dealing with the anti-Watcher protections – he still didn't know Pix and Jimmy were Watchers themselves – he would never let him leave the server. Jimmy couldn't rely on Xelqua breaking the border this time – he'd seen Xelqua's eyes when Martyn got Taken, the Third was already planning on getting him right back.

Unless... Of course! Oh, he was stupid. He didn't need Xelqua to come onto the server, when there was a Watcher already there! Pixlriffs. Xipra.

Jimmy left the house in a rush, only looking back to glare at a pesky canary bird following him into the air. An omen of death for the fourth time in a row.

He was just flying over Chromia, trying to reach the Ancient Capitol, when-

"Jimmy!? What are you doing?" The voice stopped the sheriff in his tracks. He sighed and dove down to the ground, careful not to fall – like he had in the Death Game – and immediately changing his feathers to pure yellow. Scott was waiting for him outside the colorful house, holding a lantern. The poppy in a clay pot next to him made Jimmy almost choke.

"Uh, hey, Scott, I was just- uh, heading over to Pix's area to- y'know, er... Trade? Yes, trade, I was going over to trade!"

"Uh-huh." Scott's Listener-yellow eye looked like it was judging Jimmy, who only glanced down at the finger his invisible, purple-yellow string was tied to. "Trade. In the middle of the night. Right after a Death Game." The Canary smiled nervously.

"Yep. Yep, that's it, Scott. Please, can I just go now?"

"Why are you in such a rush to get there?" Scott tilted his head. "I'm sure a trade isn't that important..." Scott's eyes narrowed. "Unless you have another matter for him, Vox?" It was like someone shot Jimmy in the back – and that was a feeling way too familiar to ignore. Scott was the one smiling now. There were a few yellow feathers in his hair, shining golden in the light of his lantern. Jimmy was determined not to look at them.

"I- I don't know what you're on about, Scott." He managed to cough out. "I- I don't know what that means." He was doomed. He was doomed. He was doomed. It was over.

"Oh, are you sure? Because I'm pretty certain you didn't always have those pretty yellow feathers of yours." HE WAS DOOMED. HE WAS DOOMED. HE WAS DOOME- Wait, did Scott just call his feathers 'pretty'? While one of the purple-yellow strings felt like it was freezing, tightening around his finger, the other was burning, tugging in the direction of the border, almost cutting off his circulation-

Jimmy shook his head. That didn't matter. "Scott, I just- I have to see Pix and I have to see him now." A bit of the Watcher echo bled through to his voice. He hoped Scott wouldn't notice.

"Why exactly do you want to do that, Listener?" Scott tilted his head. He knew he'd get information out of Jimmy, both of them did.
"I- damnit, I have to get through the border! I have to get to Hermitcraft right now, so let me go and-"

"Well, why didn't you start with that? I might just be able to help you." Scott's smile widened. "Follow me." He stepped inside the house and Jimmy followed.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you-"

"Don't thank me just yet." Scott hummed, looking through the items on his shelves. "How did you actually fall, by the way? In Limited Life, I mean. You have wings now." The wings hadn't been there during Third Life, they'd appeared after the Game. Scott remembered.

"...I can't use them there. They're clipped for the duration of the Game. He always clips them before we start and they grow back after the final death." And that was when Jimmy realised he'd made a terrible mistake. He had not meant to say that. "Uh- anyway, what- uh, what were you talking about earlier-" He tried to change the topic, but Scott frowned.

"Who does?" The Canary stayed silent, glaring at the floor, teeth clenched as to not blurt out anything else. Scott crouched to make Jimmy look into his eyes. "Jimmy, who clips your wings?" If Speakers existed, Scott would be one of Them, Jimmy was sure.

"...Grian does." He finally grit out. He barely stopped himself from calling him 'Xelqua' – that would not have been good. "Grian clips the wings of all Avians, including himself." He decided to leave out the fact that neither he nor Grian were Avians, really. "Being able to fly would give us an unfair advantage over the other Players. Like I said, it's temporary anyways, it's not that bad." That last part was a complete lie, but Scott didn't need to know that part. He didn't need to know any part of what Jimmy was saying, really, but oh well, he couldn't take it back now, could he? "So, uh, how exactly would you be able to help me get to Hermitcraft?" He really had to change the topic.

"Well, I do have the uncomfortable method of 'Tell Fwhip that Jimmy is a Watcher', but-" And here Jimmy wanted to immediately ask how the hell Scott had figured out he was a Watcher-hybrid and not just a Listener, but Scott just kept on talking. "But just for you I'm willing to part with this." He handed Jimmy a smooth orb. "That's something I found during one of my travels, it can pretty much get you anywhere you want to go, but unfortunately it's a one-way trip, so you'd better concentrate hard on where you wanna go." Scott shrugged. "I was keeping it as a souvenir, but I guess I can give it to you. For having such a pretty face." The string tied around Jimmy's finger was burning.

...As was his poppy-red face. "Thanks, Scott." He managed to choke out, head full of imaginary flowers.

Scott only smiled. "Don't mention it, poppy." For a brief moment Scott's eyes flashed Green, Yellow...

And then Jimmy was falling, and, for a second, he thought he was back in Last Life, in Double Life, in Limited Life-

His feet hit the wet ground of Hermitcraft's spawn. It was raining and it was night time. He had to go. He had to go, he had to. He started running, then flying towards Xisuma's base, hoping nobody would see him. He couldn't afford to be spotted, he couldn't afford distractions, he couldn't afford being late, he couldn't afford losing them-

When he finally reached his destination, he threw the door open, panting.

"Where's- Where's Martyn? Wait, where are Xelqua and Nota?" The other Watchers were nowhere to be seen, Pearl and Mumbo being the only ones in the room. "What happened, where are they?"

"Umbra was Taken by the Others after he Won. Tertius returned to the Watchers' Realm to try and get him back. Quartum and Contra followed." Luna answered, looking dazed. "We tried to convince them not to go, or to take us with them, but..."

"They said we weren't ready." Verba spoke through gritted teeth. "Xelqua said that he needed Nota there, and that he and Contra already knew what it looked like and how to get there. He said we 'didn't need to put ourselves in danger because of his mistakes.'" He scoffed. "As if we wouldn't die and kill for him in a heartbeat. As if we haven't done so before."

"So- They're all gone?"

Verba nodded, with a sigh of frustration. "They're all gone." Jimmy almost couldn't believe that- Well, actually, no. No, he knew Xelqua and he knew Grian, he absolutely could believe that crazy son of a gun would try and pull something like that off.

Tertius, Quartum and Contra were gone.

They were doomed.

Jimmy's golden eyes turned violet.

More of his Canary feathers turned black.

He was Doom.