Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The moon crashed.

Colors swallow the void whole as Grian jolts himself awake, huffing and puffing whilst staring at the clear blue sky with wide eyes in shock, feeling the cold floor soothing his heaving back. Once it feels like oxygen is properly circulating around his respiratory system again, he uses his elbows to hoist himself to sit up, looking around in wonder.

He’s apparently on the rooftop of a modern-style building.

Hm? Why?

With a grasp on the ground, he firmly plants his raven sneakers and gradually stands with wobbly legs, propping himself with both hands onto his knees to avoid falling. When he doesn’t feel like a newborn fawn anymore, he summons the dormant magic inside of him and sprouts his pair of enormous vibrant feathered wings out of thin air.

He spreads them sideways and warms them up with a few flaps, sensing the feathers flowing with the wind before sprinting towards the edge without wavering. He leaps over the ledge and falls, feeling the rush vibrating every part of his body before opening his dorsal appendages and softly gliding into safety.

He tucks them with a fold before using his magic to make them disappear into purple sparkles, feeling light once more as he casually emerges to the sidewalk from the freezing alley. He walks along with the traffic, noticing how bustling it is from the number of various vehicles and people in the humongous open area.

Grian pats his clothing and sighs in relief to sense the familiar bump in his trouser pocket, fishing it out to see his comm. He turns it on to spot multiple messages in the public chat and clicks it for the text to flood the screen at dizzying speed, various questions from every Hermit passing by his one pair of eyes who can barely keep up with them.

When Xisuma asks if everyone is safe and present in chat, it shortly receives a mountain of replies from every Hermit about being okay, whilst the others are stating their location, and some are questioning the peculiar situation. He notices a certain moustached man’s message and scrolls up to read it, saying something about him being in the void at first and suddenly appears on an island filled with games.

Huh, Mumbo’s probably in Hypixel or Mineplex, then.

Unfortunately, Grian still has no clue where he is no matter where he looks for a sign or an object as reference. Since cities are so abundant in the majority of the multiverse, it’s pretty much impossible to figure it out. With a disappointed sigh, he continues to read and sees their main admin explaining about a fail-safe magic he casts without fail in every season, where it becomes very useful when something bad happens with the world and every Hermit inside it will be teleported somewhere safe.

Grian huffs fondly that Xisuma did such a thing beforehand, so it’s now definite that everyone’s safe at this point. He begins to type on the digital keyboard using both of his thumbs, suggesting in chat that they need to find a way to regroup and avoid being vulnerable, considering that every Hermit is a bit famous to say the least.

Without a delay, Doc agrees whilst Ren adds that he’ll contact Renbob to fetch them with the 'Hermitheus'.

“Hermit-what now?” Grian blurts with a raised brow, confused about the strange word and Renbob's involvement in all this.

Grian suddenly feels something hard hitting him from behind, causing the surroundings to blur and instantly fades to black.

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When Grian flutters his sticky eyelids open, he winces and grits his teeth at the pounding pain inside his skull, as if something is about to burst through it and escape. His eyes widen and blood runs cold to finally notice that his wrists are shackled with leather straps, trapping him on a wooden armchair. He releases a whimper as he hastily shakes his legs, only to feel them being bound as well.

He’s tied to a chair in a dim-lit room, causing him to reminisce about his dark high school experience. The thought itself is enough for his heartbeat to skyrocket whilst every part of his body shakes in panic.

He jolts violently as he hears a creeping creak, only to barely register the door slowly opening and his stomach drops as he sees a man, who he never wants to see again, with extending white ears protruding from his chocolate locks entering the doorway with his signature smile that’s too strained, too toothy, and obviously fake.

“Gree-on...” Sam singsongs, forming a lump in Grian’s throat as he can only stare widely and shrink like a cornered animal as the rabbit hybrid slowly strides towards him.

Not again! Just when he feels like he’s been set free from his demons that is his hellscape of a past.

“Sam…” Grian scrunches his nose and grits his teeth, hoping to suppress the clattering.

“Did you miss me?” Sam's toothy grin grows and raises his cheeks to narrow his eyes, holding a tight grip on Grian’s chin and forces him to raise it to make eye contact, digging his long nails onto the blonde's cheeks.

It takes every energy in Grian’s body to suppress a flinch as Sam’s manic face is getting a bit too close for comfort, making past memories regarding this man flash right before his eyes.

Is he supposed to comply? He should, shouldn’t he?

But at the same time, he doesn’t want to spend his whole life doing Sam’s bidding again and praying for the best that he won’t hurt him.

He’s going to die right here, isn’t he?

It took him about half a decade to try and break the habit of keeping everyone at arm’s length, avoiding forming any relationships that would potentially lead to the same outcome as high school. And it takes him three years and counting to isolate himself to avoid anyone from being involved, as well as to stay vigilant at every single second to anticipate for them to take him back at all costs. Is his entire life going to be spent trying to cope with his trauma?

Is he going to stay like this—forever hunted by the ghosts of his past until he perishes or his mind breaks?

“Are you listening to me? Huh?” A yell snaps Grian out of his thoughts as he feels Sam’s nails digging on his skin further as the latter shakes it vigorously, drawing blood.

Grian blinks for a moment to regain his bearings after being shaken like a rattle, mumbling random words that don't make sense. From Sam’s blind spot, his hands are starting to burn the rope using fire magic his brother taught him. Is he really going to do this? Strangely, with an impromptu plan at hand, his heart is strangely calm.

Well, he isn’t a rule breaker for nothing, right?

“What did you say?” Sam furrows his brows and moves forward to lean closer.

“I said… I’d rather die than miss you, you lunatic!” Grian grits his teeth in preparation as he leans his head back and swiftly moves it forward to clash his forehead with Sam’s, making the latter yelp in surprise as he wobbly steps back from disorientation.

As if on cue, the rope around his torso and arms loosens with a flop.

Now’s his chance!

Grian springs forward and beelines to the door, every step pounding along with his heart. He can hear the beating in his ears accompanied by his rasping breath, not letting either of them distract him to further his goal. Just when he’s about to grab the doorknob, a chill runs down his spine and causes him to freeze in place. Suddenly, he gasps as he can feel the air in his lungs leaving his body.

He can also sense that there’s no oxygen filling his vessel no matter how much he inhales, grasping his jumper around his chest as the throbbing pain starts to overwhelm him and finally drops to the floor. Within his blurring vision, he can barely spot Sam grinning ear-to-ear as he slowly walks towards his way.

The last thing he sees before everything is swallowed by the darkness is the man’s bloodthirsty eyes glowing vibrant purple.

Exactly like Grian’s, no—like theirs.

Chapter Text

It’s been a month since Pearl has last heard from Grian when he suggested in the public chat about regrouping. At first, no one noticed it—not even her (she wished she did) since everyone was so busy adjusting to the worlds they were stranded in. Luckily, she was teleported in Empires, so she had no issue with finding a place to stay. She tended to her own land and citizens with her usual bright smile, hiding the gradually growing worry slowly eating away at her fragile heart.

But unfortunately, even her second home was destroyed. Gilded Helianthia was burned into the ground as her life force gradually diminished, body slowly disintegrating into ashes once the toxic withering corrupted her once immortal vessel, so she woke up in a fresh world with conflicted emotions and realised later that it was a hardcore one, if the two crack-like marks inside the crimson heart etched at the back of her wrist is anything to go by.

With her mind filled with thoughts about trying to survive, she didn’t have time to think of other things. If only she at least messaged her best friend, even just a simple 'hello', she would’ve noticed sooner that something was possibly wrong with him. She’s probably paranoid but considering their past experiences with them, it’s kind of difficult not to be.

Sure, they also haven’t heard anything about the other Hermits like Scar, but at least the man informed them beforehand that he would be a bit late due to doing something to improve his health, and everyone each gave their various but positive replies.

Pearl hopes with a grimace that she’s only overthinking it.

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The scenery blurs into a hot mess as he’s been walking around and asking people non-stop if they saw a certain short strawberry blond man donning an oversized red sweater around the area, but his effort was fruitless. It’s already been this long since he was teleported to a medieval world yet he still can't find him. Considering the vast difference of the theme between this place and their attire, the builder should've stood out like a sore thumb and made him easier to find, but there's still nothing.

It's ridiculous!

He knows that the guy is an adult, but he can’t help the constant bouncing of his leg as he sat for too long, or thoughts about Grian being gone forever flooding his mind for long enough that makes him combust in overwhelming panic. Heck, he almost got arrested since no one believed him that he burst into flames and accidentally burned someone's wooden house.

If it weren't for Renbob's perfect timing, he would've been locked up on a pillory and being thrown rotten tomatoes by the citizens right about now. With a deep sigh, he slouches and plants his forehead onto the table filled with scattered papers—supposedly blueprints for his future base in season nine, feeling dull and tired (that's what happens when someone has been running around town to find someone for consecutive amount of days without sleep) at the moment to actually do anything.

He doesn’t care if he’s too tired and is recovering from his failed mission to save everyone from the big moon, or how he's still constantly flinches whenever it’s dark and whip his head too quickly to stare at the night sky (ignore that there's no actually day sky on outer space in the first place and manage to see one when they enter a planet to fetch his fellow Hermits), only to see a regular-sized moon.

He can’t afford to lose Grian again.

Sure, they weren’t that close before during their early childhood to teenage years, but that was his biggest mistake of not making an effort to try and get closer to him, as he only realized it after hearing about an admin of a world invaded by Watchers perished at their hands along with the planet itself. He was a bit informed about those jerks for eldritch creatures who liked to pretend they were gods, playing with life however they pleased and justify it as their ‘duty to watch’.

After all, it was their fault his friends ended up the way they did back when he was a foolish and ignorant teen.

If only he knew sooner…

If only he did something, that would've never happened.

It's all his fault!

He ruffles his slick back blond hair and releases a prolonged groan in annoyance just by thinking about those self-centered jerks, rendering his unkempt locks into some sort of bird's nest, which is probably worse than Zedaph's.

Stupid.

Either that statement is directed to him or them, he doesn’t care. It’s just kind of tragic and mostly bad that people only realize things after they have already lost it.

Well, not this time.

He may have failed once, but he’s not doing it again.

He’s going to find and protect Grian this time even if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

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No matter how many times he pulls an all-nighter, surfing through his contacts of various admins and using his Void Clairvoyance magic until he has reached his limit, Xisuma is still unsuccessful in finding a certain all-time favourite pesky bird.

He massages both of his temples as the migraine from lack of sleep and overfatigue are stabbing his brain. It’s been a month since they received a silent treatment from Grian, and considering the man had always done this whenever he was at his lowest—refusing all sorts of help and isolating himself until he successfully suppressed his deepest emotions, the ache in his chest prevents him from sleeping, so he might as well spend his nights searching.

That’s what he had initially thought at first.

When he suddenly collapsed in the middle of the metallic hallway of the Hermitheus, his fellow Hermits couldn’t hold it in any longer and decided to ask his close friend for assistance. Due to that, Keralis has been dubbed as his 'sleep bodyguard', constantly keeping a keen eye on him and berates about taking care of his body more if he wants to find Grian as soon as possible. He can’t do anything to oppose it, so he finally gives in to his friend's big and glassy eyes filled with concern.

This is why he’s been staring a few hours straight into the dim metal ceiling at one a.m, ideas mindlessly wandering for hours whilst waiting for sleep to eventually consume him.

This is going to take a while.

Whilst he waits for sleep to come, he hears faint clunking footsteps approaching the entrance of his bedroom. He takes a glance at his digital clock by the bedside table and reads ‘2:25 a.m’, only to wonder who it is at this hour.

“Keralis? Is that you?” Xisuma muses in a loud voice, watching the open doorway like an owl.

There’s no reply except for the sound getting louder, making him reach to the side for his axe with furrowed brows and beading sweat as his heart thumps quickly against his heaving chest. A foot sticks out from the hallway before the owner’s body fully emerges and reveals a familiar crimson armour as well as the messy, long and spiky pristine white hair dancing in the cool air.

“Wow, way to hurt someone’s feelings.” Evil Xisuma scrunches their nose.

“Y- I- EX? H-How—?” Xisuma falters as his purple eyes blow wide in disbelief, glassy with unshed tears.

“I decided to show my face for once, but apparently I wasn’t welcomed by my own brother.” EX frowns as he casually spins their horned helmet with one clawed finger like a basketball. “I’ll see myself out.” They huff before turning back to walk away.

Xisuma stumbles out of his bed and runs to grab EX’s wrist desperately, tightening his trembling grip whilst clenching his teeth.

"Don't go, please.” Xisuma whimpers as he lowers his head and covers his eyes with his raven locks “I... sorry." He releases his hold and swiftly turns to walk back to his bed.

“If—” Xisuma whips his body in an instant and makes eye contact with EX’s crimson eyes. "—U-Until you despise me, get s-sick and tired of seeing me or t-tell me to fuck off, I- I'm not going anywhere." They stammer with a blush before rubbing the back of their neck as they avert their gaze.

His brother’s flustered face blurs with the surroundings as he feels the tears flowing to his cheeks, jumping towards EX’s direction and wrapping his arms around their neck in an instant.

"I miss you so much. Don't ever disappear like that again!" Xisuma sobs whilst burying his soaked face on his brother’s shoulder.

Towering figures continued to laugh as they looked down on Xisuma's fragile form, mocking him for his powerlessness whilst he could only lie on the marble floor and cry for what he had lost. His brother, his only family, was taken away because of his foolishness. If only he had the power to at least protect his younger sibling, he didn't care what would happen to him.

Xisuma bites the inside of his cheek, internally scolding himself for remembering that now. He doesn't need to worry about that anymore. His brother is here within his arms and he's not dead, unlike what the Watchers claimed to have when the orphaned brothers were taken from their home.

He won't make the same mistake again.

This is why he created this world, solely to provide a secure home and protect the ones he cared about, so he won't lose them anymore.

But look what happened…

"It's not my fucking fault everyone got separated in the first place!" EX steps back as he retorts with a yell, making Xisuma flinch. "You do realise it's not yours as well… right?"

The silence is enough for EX to add with a solemn voice, "No matter how much you try to beat yourself up for it, it'll never be your fault that it happened, alright? It wasn't in anyone's control that the moon just decided to collapse on us like an idiot."

"But if I prepared for it sooner, Grian and the others wouldn't still be missing and potentially be in danger." Xisuma raises his head to see EX’s face as he retorts.

"Now listen here, you derp for a sibling!” EX barks and pushes their finger towards Xisuma’s forehead repeatedly as his eye twitches and strains a smile. “What if Scar accidentally breaks one of Doc's contraptions, would you blame the hell out of him for touching it?"

"Of course, I won't!” Xisuma exclaims and releases his hold as he gently pushes EX away. “Doing it on purpose is one thing, but it can't be helped if he accidentally broke it considering the complexity of redstone." He defends firmly as he caresses the painful part of his forehead.

"See what I mean? Imagine you being in Scar's place and Doc's contraption being the stupid arse moon." EX exclaims whilst throwing their arms to the sides for emphasis.

"But it's different." Xisuma’s mouth gapes before muttering in denial.

The dead silence fills the air that’s specially filtered for Xisuma’s sealed area of Hermitheus.

"Are you doing this on purpose just to have something to argue about?" EX criticises whilst scrunching their nose and mouth slightly open in disgust.

"No!" Xisuma protests.

"Then why are you being so difficult?” EX huffs and shakes their head. “Just accept that we can't do anything for something that's already done and work your arse off next time, so it won't happen again. It's as easy as that." They insist as they point a finger towards Xisuma’s direction.

"I—“ Xisuma hesitates as his shoulders rise to his pointed ears. “Fine.” He huffs and slouches in defeat. “Since when are you this smart, man?" He raises a brow in question.

"I always am, you fuck." EX crosses their arms whilst raising their chin and puffing their chest in confidence.

"Then why can't you destroy the world like you always declare, then?" Xisuma snorts as he ruffles his brother’s snow white hair with a toothy grin.

“You- I- But- It- N—” EX sputters. "T-That's none of your stupid business!" They whine as they slap Xisuma’s arm away.

Xisuma clutches his heaving stomach as he laughs, ignoring his brother making a fuss in front of him like a child being denied their favourite toy.

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It’s been a few weeks since Pearl has been staying in Hermitheus along with the other Hermits who were found like her. Unfortunately, she still hasn’t heard anything from Grian. It’s been difficult to cope with the silence that he constantly filled, especially for her and Mumbo.

Sure, Impulse was also down but he had Tango and Zedaph, Team ZIT on his side, so he was feeling better than the two. With Scar also gone, there’s no one to distract her from the thought of Grian never coming back lingering at the back of her mind. All she did was wake up, eat, do the dishes, sleep, and repeat as the days blur.

She’s basically running on autopilot.

That’s why when her communicator rings despite it being dark out (it always is since they’re in outer space, but that’s beside the point), she grabs it with a grumble and squinted eyes to brace for the piercing brightness of the screen, only to be jolted fully awake as she reads the message with eyes wide like saucers.

'How’s it going, Purl?'

She doesn’t need to read the name to figure out who it is since there’s only one person who has the guts to call her that. Without hesitation, she throws the blanket aside while stumbling out of her bed and sprints to Mumbo’s room to break the news, only to meet the moustached man half-way through the hallway and realises too late that they're crossing paths before they clash, falling to the metallic floor with a loud clunk.

She caresses the pain on her forehead with a groan before regaining her bearings. When they see each other’s faces, she can spot dark bags under his crimson eyes. She's very aware that she's in a similar situation, making them look identical to a panda, pale and exhausted but their smiles reach to their ears, knowing full well that the other got the same news.

Chapter Text

Light shines between the cracks as Scar groggily flutters his eyelids open, groaning as he rubs his eye with a hand. Another day, another—

He sits up with a violent jolt in shock, patting his body repeatedly with wide eyes as he hastily inspects.

“What’s going on?” Scar’s voice rises into a high pitch at the end. “Why can’t I—I don’t remember dying!” He exclaims, feeling energized all of a sudden as he faces to the side and moves forward to retrieve his cane, only to pounce a little bit too much than expected and falls to the wooden floor with a thud.

“Ow…” Scar groans from the pain as he caresses his head. “Yep. Still alive.”

If he can still feel pain, then what’s happening?

He has his chronic pain for basically forever and if that suddenly disappears, it means that he died and went to the afterlife, right? Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel this weirdly refreshed and well… this alive.

Scar holds onto the headboard to slowly hoist himself up, gasping once more when he can feel a sensation, that’s not just weakness and constant tingling on his legs touching the floor as he puts his weight onto them. He stands to his full height, quivering terribly like a newborn fawn as he slowly walks around his chest-filled room.

Hm?

Chest?

His head whips left to right, breath caught in his throat as he looks around the unfamiliar room that’s not his treehouse with furrowed brows, spotting chests with labels stored on the shelves all around him. His eyes spot outside and immediately turn around the window by the bedside, hastily pouncing towards the mattress as he slams his hands onto the cold glass to steady himself. He releases a breath he unknowingly holds once he spots his colossal treehouse a few meters away.

Wait, does this mean he’s in Grian’s house? But why would he—?

Scar focuses his gaze on the window and instead of the greenery view from outside, he stares at the familiar face of a certain pesky bird, mirroring his wide-eyed expression. He blinks his eyes, Grian does the same together with green irises instead of the usual blue. He slowly brings his quivering hand towards his face and like earlier, Grian copies his movement accurately without any delay.

Gears finally begin to shift as the puzzle pieces form into one coherent picture, slapping him with the most peculiar truth right in the face.

Scar screams.

Instead of his usual voice crack, his throat produces the most high-pitched shriek of all time, stopping himself once his throat starts to sore and coughs violently to relieve it. He sits on the bed silently for a short while as an idea begins to form.

What if he accidentally used his vex magic to shapeshift again? And apparently teleport to someone else’s house at the same time while he was asleep?

He closes his eyes and concentrates on bringing forth the energy sleeping inside him, imagining that his appearance is no longer one of his fellow Hermit’s but his own. He slowly opens one eyelid as he stares at the reflection and drags a sigh at the result.

Well, at least he can finally try to perch on a Hermit’s shoulder without tumbling over. That’s a plus, he guesses.

A faint, familiar scream can be heard from the distance and Scar doesn’t hesitate to reach forward for his cane but catches air, only to overdo it again and fall on the floor with a grunt.

Right, he doesn’t have his cane, and he also has bouncy legs to worry about.

Once he reaches his starter base, he slams the door open and beelines to the staircase that leads upstairs and to his bedroom. He clutches a hand to his throbbing chest as he wheezes, staring widely at the scenery in front of him.

Scar spots himself sitting cross-legged by his light blue bed, holding a mirror with one scarred hand and planting the other on his forehead with mouth agape. His body slowly turns its head towards Scar’s direction, finally making eye contact with an azure gaze instead of the usual leafy green.

“Scar?” Not-Scar calls with a wavering voice.

He jolts in surprise, feeling conflicted to hear his own voice when it isn’t he who talked.

“Y-Yeah? Are you—” Scar hesitates with a gulp. “—Grian?”

Grian (at least Scar hopes he is) stares at him silently, leaving only the soft rustling of leaves from outside and Jellie’s nagging meows from downstairs to be heard between the two. The loud thumping of his heart can’t be louder as beads of sweat roll down his forehead from beneath the fringe.

“Y-Yes?” Grian finally breaks the silence with a mutter and raised brow.

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While casually conversing with Grian on the bed like this, it makes Scar realize again just how high-pitched his best friend's voice is now that he's in the latter's body. A thought occurs whether this man has any Adam's apple or did he lose it somewhere in his chest monster, making him cover his mouth with a hand as he suppresses a laugh.

"What's so funny?" Scar- Grian tilts his head and raises a brow in question.

"N-Nothing." Scar's voice rises and snorts while his shoulders quiver.

“There’s definitely something judging by your reactions.” Grian complains as he shakes Scar back and forth by the shoulders. “Come on, spill!”

“No!”

“Do it!”

“Why are you so insistent?”

“Because I want to know!”

“G-man, s-stop! I’m getting lightheaded!” Scar pleads in desperation while everything zooms back and forth.

As if lightning has struck Scar and imminently causes huge destruction, a hot and searing sensation runs through his spine as he grits his teeth and grunts from the excruciating pain—the type of hurt that’s easily comparable to him nosediving towards the ocean of lava in the Nether when his elytra broke, burning his skin, flesh, and bones until all that’s left is gray ash being blown by the wind and wander in its blistering atmosphere for eternity.

The unbearable sensation causes him to shut his eyes and wait for it to pass, but he hears his own voice sounding like it’s also enduring something overwhelming. He slowly opens one eye, trying to sit still as much as he can as his eyelid twitches and sees Grian frozen stiff on his seat.

After what feels like forever, he’s finally released from the hellish experience and carefully sighs in relief, not wanting to repeat the same thing all over again. He sees the avian hybrid doing the same thing across from him.

“Scar?” Grian flinches after slouching, but he relaxes further after sighing in relief. “If you’re okay with sharing, erm… Ho- Why d-do you have chronic pain?” He wonders in hesitation while fidgeting with his now long hair. “D-Did they come from you crashing all the time?”

“Uh…” Scar hums with a finger to his chin in thought. “Not really.” He shrugs. “I was dropped when I was a baby.” He casually explains in a deadpan.

“Wh- Ho- I’m even more baffled by your lack of reaction, if I’m honest.” Grian stutters as he blinks in bewilderment. “Th-Then, how d-did your parents do it?” He makes eye contact and creates a face as if he’s anticipating something.

“Oh, no. It wasn’t my parents who did it.” Scar waves a dismissive hand.

“Whew!” Grian sighs in relief while caressing his chest.

“It was my caretaker since they didn’t want to bother with taking care of me.” Scar casually shakes his head. “They dropped me one day before I was taken by pillagers for an experiment to see if they could artificially create vexes, but they only ended up making a gray fairy of some sort.” He nonchalantly adds with a smile.

Grian is frozen in place as if he’s been trapped inside of a huge iceberg, drifting in the middle of a deep-frozen ocean. Is he okay? Did the chronic pain get to him again?

“There’s definitely something wrong with me!” Grian screams as he slams a fist towards the soft mattress.

“Grian, are you okay? Are you hurting somewhere?” Scar yelps in panic as he plants a hand softly on the builder’s shoulder.

“Why are you talking about your childhood trauma like someone asked you what's for dinner?” Grian whines.

“We’re having dinner now? But it’s still early in the morning.” Scar raises a brow in bewilderment.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Grian stares at Scar’s direction and narrows his blue eyes in accusation.

“N-No?” Scar wavers and huffs with a slouch. “It’s nothing interesting, really.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “I was just your run of the mill child living in a defenseless village who was helpless and weak at the hands of pillagers.” He stretches his lips into his signature crooked but genuine smile and crosses his arms as he answers solemnly. “There’s no need to make a fuss about it. Because of that, I finally found my real home with our fellow Hermits.” He wraps his fingers around his arms as he finishes.

Scar feels the beading sweat flowing down his pale skin while he averts his gaze to the side, swallowing the lump in his throat as he flutters his aching eyes. He clutches his knotted stomach with both arms and grunts as the dormant energy courses through his veins, running electric sensations all throughout his pores while his pair of vex wings sprout against his will.

ɦ̷̝̳̹̖͎̈́͗͘͘͜͝͠ʊ̵̢̝͐̓̕͜ռ̸̡̧̻̯͚͉̯̒͂̀ɢ̸̢̪̻͌̓͑́̌ʀ̵̢̧͉͑͛̂̑̌́͠ʏ̶͖̭̫̹͈̼̯͛͝ ̸̤̻̝͕̬̱̩̰̜̋̃̓̇͐̄͛̏ɦ̶̞͎͔̹̱͚̇̀͆̀ʊ̸̢̰͈͚͗̽̅̃̉͛̋ռ̶̥̽̈́̏̓͌͊͑́ɢ̸͔̮̈̈́̍̓͆͝͝ʀ̴̛̰̥̩̯͛̀̏̄̂̈́ͅʏ̵̱͈͔̜͖̹͗̀͐͊̀͊̚ͅ ̷̧̢̳̥͎̘̈́͂͒͗̚ͅͅӄ̴̩̰̮̞͎̦̤͚̈́̆̊̂ɨ̸̡̖̘̱̈́͆̋ʟ̶̺̖̩̩̲̳̳̪̫̀̃͒͝ʟ̸̧̩̬̗͎̪͖̼̅̐͐̊̂̀̑ ̶̡̧̧̨͚̤̜̲͆͌̈́̽̀̓̋͒ɦ̷͇͔͇͈̬͙̰͍̈̊ɛ̷͇̼̟̪͒̔̑̀̓̈́̀ʟ̵͓̰̣̲̏ք̵̯̰̼̞͎̬̣͍̇͜ ̷̢̪̣͕͙̰͍̐̄̐̇̍͘ɮ̶̦͓̅̅̾̄͌̑ʟ̴͔͉̦̣͝օ̷̧̞̖̥͇͚̲̘̦̈̈́̎̌́̄̒̈́͘օ̵̱͌̋͑̈͊̒̈͠ɖ̸̞̺̳̠̫͈̣͆͜ͅ ̸͓͇̦̳̱̋͗̂̊̀̃͝ӄ̴͕͕̠̌̑̀̎̈́͜͝ͅɨ̴̧̹̦̜͖͒͛̑͠ʟ̵̛͇̗̟͚̈́ʟ̶̥̺̞̔̓̎͑̏͋̃͘͝ ̸̡͎͎̗̼͗̆̐̿̈́̀ӄ̸̛̮͍̂̉̽̋̍̈͊͜͝ɨ̴̗̹̯̩̈́̽̀̉̕͜͠ʟ̸̱͙̬͑̃͐̋͑̅̏͘ʟ̵̨̘̫͕̍̾͛̍̐͗̇ ̵̮̻̫̣̣̯̀̋ʍ̷̨͎̬͍͓̣̺̍͒͗͘͜ą̸̢̘̙̫͍̟̈̄̊̇͜͜ɢ̵̨̪̺̘͎̹͉̅ɨ̷̢̙͙̜͉̲̒̏̉͊̇͝ͅƈ̵̳̃̀̊͋̉̀̂̅̚ ̵̢̩͚͇͓̩̐̀̾̿͐̈́̍͘ɖ̴͉̲̙͓̦͕̭͛̈́̀͐̌ɛ̵̥͉͇̉̇͆͂̉ֆ̴̢̣͉̮͓̫̠͓̏̈́̅̑̉͋̋͝ք̶̧̩͙̮̒̏͠ͅḁ̶̧̳̣̦̈̄̿̇͊̆͜ɨ̷̜̞̲͇͔̯͓̯͑̒̈́͐̔̆͝͝ʀ̶̮̩̏̇́͑̄͆̂̉ ̵͈̲̩̩̠̎ʍ̵̛̟̩̪̹̣͉͕̪̓͊͒̕ͅօ̷̨͔̯̘̀̋̒̄͊͂́̕ʀ̸̛͍̝̩͈̦̯͕̄̓̉ɛ̴̨̛͔̤̞̙̗̫̀̐̃̃͋̋͘͠ ̴͍̈͂̓̑̍͘͘ֆ̴̯̗̫̝̠̈́ʟ̴̭̼̖̰̳͕̳̙͊̽̉̈́ą̵̝͇͚̮̼̣̭̥̈̄̅̄̂̒ʊ̴̘̤̟̟̊ͅɢ̷̡̹̞͐̋́͝ɦ̷̢̢̨̱̣͔͚̺̟̇̈́̑̆͒̚͝ȶ̸̦͖̘̉̑̄̈ɛ̶̜͙̻̝͈̤̈́͂͠ʀ̶̗̝̩̠̗̦̦͔͋̋͐̌̓̓̊ ̶̥͙͓͉̻͖͇̊̋͋͘ƈ̷̡̬͔̖͖̤̒̽͜ǟ̷̧̨̢̛̗̗̜͔͋̓͗̀͝ȶ̸̢͔̑͐̋͊̏̚ ̶̧̳̟̜͈̟͉̓͛́͜͠͝ɖ̵̛̛͙͎̝͚̰̀̓̽̒͝͝ɛ̸̨̱̭̰̓͐̽̈́́͆̀̚͝ֆ̸͕̜̞̥̿̏ȶ̴̥͙̲̻̗̯̇̓̐͗̚ʀ̴̜̣͆͛̒́̈́ʊ̷̡̨̻̘͚̘̮̤̠̈́̌̀̓̔ƈ̸͓̈́͗ȶ̷̩̗̘̫̹͈̎ɨ̵̖͔̐̈́́͝ͅͅօ̸̨̡̛͕̥̻̬͓̆͗̃̈́̏̕ռ̵̡̥̠̱̞̘̩̈́̌ ̷̖̒̉͌̊͌͒̎̚͠ɮ̵̦̫͙̤͕̟̝͍̅ʟ̸̡̥͖̩̦̟̈́̌͗̀́̋̀̓͝օ̶̡͈̯͋̾̊̇͒̄̚͠օ̸̮̞̻͈͚̩̩̎͊̇̾́̈̆ɖ̶̡̬̟̪͖̆͌͂͗̇͛̓̕͝ ̶̪̍͘ɖ̵̢͕̲͋̅͝ɛ̴̡̙̙̒̌͠ǟ̸̧̢̩͍͕̣̮̳̎̎͜͝͝ȶ̶̯̮̟͔̑̂̔̇ɦ̸̡͔͍̣͈͓̗͚̦̽̈̕

He covers his ears in reflex at the grating sound ringing in his ears and shudders as the chill runs through his spine, forming goosebumps from underneath his new attire before the electric energy spreads to his eyes, glowing a vibrant blue hue.

It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts—

ʍ̷͔͙͌̓̀̈́օ̷̮͕̣̜͔̦͂͐́̚͝ʀ̵̟̂͊̇͊͘ɛ̵̛̛̹̲̟̖̓́̃͆́ ̷̡̦̩͖̦̳́̌̚͜͝͠ʄ̶̡̻͉͗̓̋̃̐̿̔ʟ̵̡̜̫̪͎̥̹͋̅ɛ̶̘̱̘̒̆͒͗ͅֆ̷̥̗̰̌͛̚͝ɦ̴̦̖͚͇̥̔̒̾͆ ̵̡̯͚̹̘̞͖̄̍̉ɮ̴̱̄̐̅̑̾ʟ̶̱̞̐̐̈́̎̾͌օ̴̨̖̠̳̯̠͇̓̄̔͗̃́͠օ̸̙̈͗̽ɖ̵̹̦́̄ͅ ̸̨̧̹̞͈̠̔̀ʍ̶̧̡̹̲̼̖͖̅̔̃̅̃͘̚օ̶͕̔̊̾̆̊̚͜͝ʀ̶̙̼̱̯͚͒ɛ̸̡̀ ̸̧̡̜̎̀̈́̾͠ͅʄ̵̢̢̞̺́̓̏̇̽͊օ̶̜̪̳̹̘͙͇̇͆̃͆͝օ̷̛̼͎̰͍̦̩̀̈́̋̌̆̚ɖ̸̖̠̣̎͌̃͗ ̸̛̠̣͍͕̩̹̂̇̓̐͆̚ȶ̴̡̪̮̱̞̹̯͐͆͒ǟ̵̢͖͍̲͂̐̍͂̎̈ֆ̴͎̥̿̈͑̾̔̂͘ȶ̷̲̘̖̊͋͛̐̏͘͘ʏ̴̟̯͎͕̲̩͇̎́͗ ̴̨̟̖͉͑̉́ɛ̶̹̬͂ʟ̶̯̞̱̾͆́͑̚͝ʄ̶̢̛̘̞̏̏̑͘͝ ̵̱͉̬͚͋ͅʄ̴̡̭͈̬̀͑̀̌̏̓͝օ̵̣̟̫͈̞̅̀̀̀̍͠͠օ̴̹̏͐̑̊̄ɖ̶͓̙͊̈́́̇̕͘ ̶̡̤͔͚̘͌̑̌̐͒͝ͅʄ̸̢̮͇͖̲̝̀̑͗ʟ̴͕̲͒̓̀̔ɛ̶̡̹̿ֆ̴̛͇̑̒͂̆̃͋ɦ̴̨͈̪̍͊̓͘ ̸̼͈͗̍̾̒̈́̉̈ɦ̷͕͓͔̀̾̽̈́͒͊ɛ̸͉̲̰̤͙̣͊͆͆̎͜ʟ̷̛̩̥̬͉̖͍͖̽͝ք̷̨̠͇͉̞̆̈́͒̏ ̵̟̹͉̍̑̿̓͜ȶ̷̠̰́̌̌̈́ǟ̴̭̺̀́ֆ̷͉̹̫̊̓̑̈́̈́ȶ̶̬̺͊̇ʏ̷͓̜̟͓͂̈̔́̎͜͝ͅ ̵͕͐͑͑͒ɦ̶̝̯͕͚̚͜ʊ̶̤͖̈́͋̔̚ռ̵̙͔͙̤̏ɢ̸̺͚̞̽͐͒̀̌̄̃ͅʀ̸̨̛̲̽͆̋̑͜͠ʏ̷̧͓̬͚͓̃͂̀̌̂̈́ ̴̦̭̹͋́͐͆̿́͝ʍ̵͕̝͇̜͎͋̒͜օ̵̨̗͎̯͕̹̽̌̎́̌̈́͒ʀ̷͔̠͉̤̊̈ɛ̸͚̭̖͕͚̺̙̀́̄͊̀̅͝ ̶̢͎̭̮̪͆̿̅̑̽̕͠ʍ̵̨̇͊օ̷̱̭̒̑̃̇̈́ʀ̷̨̗͈͔̺̏ɛ̵͎̤͎͔̳̣́̅̓ ̵̧͛͠ʍ̸̨͕͙̭͉͕͘ͅօ̷̛͙̇́̊̍̓͝ʀ̶͓̿̋ɛ̸̳̠͖͝ ̷͚̩͉͓͕̗̔͗̂͑́ʍ̸̪͊͋͆̓օ̸͈͔͚̰̮̏̾̿͒͊̓͝ʀ̴̹̥͍̺̪̦̂̍͌̎́̃ɛ̵̹͇̱̰͖̪̺͝ ̷̳̼̳͇̒̅̀̕ʍ̷͍̫̙͙̳̽̓օ̸̮̝̼̖̃̃͑̈̃̃͜͠ʀ̷̡̧͓̤͎̩̈́̔ɛ̸̛̤̓

How can this happen?

He’s not in his body anymore, yet he can still vividly sense his vex magic getting stronger despite being in the avian’s vessel.

ɖ̷͍̿̌͊̃̏̌ɛ̸̧̘̫̲̮͗̉͝ֆ̷͕̄͋̽͐̄ȶ̷͎͖͇̈͘ʀ̵̳͐͊̓͗̀́͒օ̶̣̐̾̐̚ʏ̸̧̱̬̟̗̙̟̐̔̃͒̔͗͝ ̷̟̟̯̫̙͎̖̀̂̀̇͑̕ա̴͎͈̻̫͚͌̽̉͛̽̎ǟ̵̡̯̤͉̳͍̽̉̔̐ʀ̵̡͖̜̘̯̀̽̏̃͑̈̿ ̸̞͈̘̍̅ͅɮ̴͇̜͈͉͌ʟ̸̨̹̜̣̳̀̎̂̀̔͝օ̷͙͕̰́͝օ̸̟͓̪̖̩̇̀̈́͆͂̃ɖ̸͖̈͋ֆ̵̺̭͇͔͕̈́̀̋͜ɦ̶͚̫͚̺̋̀̀̓͜͠ɛ̶̢̧̖̹̌͛̓́̈ͅɖ̵̨̛̹̰͎̭̘̇̍̕̚͘͠ ̵̫̪̮͎͊͆͑ʍ̵̧͎͓͖̼̩͋̐ǟ̵͇͖̭͌ɢ̴̧͍̙̻̀̃ɨ̵̳͈͙͕͕̻̎͋͊̓̎͝͠ƈ̵̢̯̼̂̽̋ ̸̧̱̥̮̋̈́̈́͆̿̈͘ɮ̷͍̹͖̺̺̹͈̀ʀ̷̢̛̻͉͖͈̝͈̇͑̉̆̕օ̶̢̢͙̋ӄ̷̤̻̺̫͔͖̎ɛ̴̛̘̟̼͙͔͉͕͗͆̈ռ̴͓̿͆̑̒ ̸̹͗̿̍͐ֆ̷̙͊͌̍̄̕͝ƈ̶̳̫͎̩̼̂̓̓̏͒̓ą̷̞̈̄̋̅̀͘ʀ̸̝͍͚̘̖̓̽̍ ̸̣̃̀̔́͑ա̸̢̻͙͙͓͎͛̔ǟ̸̼̊̕͝ʀ̵͈̬̙͋̊̇̊̎́͝ͅ ̶͉̞͈̱̞̣̋͜ա̶͙̩̝̥̏̀̉ǟ̶̺̿̎̊ʀ̵̨̪̰̖̖̭̈́̀̆̚͠ ̴̥͎͗͒̈̈͘ɛ̷͓̳̭̑͗ռ̸̜̺̼̻̾̉̎̈́̐̕͜ɛ̴̢̰̘̝͓̯̠̑̈́̎͗̐ʀ̶͓̮̼̝̏̽ɢ̶̧̧̛̜̩̗̍̓̊͆͑ʏ̸̨͇̘̽ ̴̤͓̙̝̄́̈́͛̓ɦ̸̡̻̘̖͉̣̈͊͜ʊ̶̗̬̳͔̝͚͋̉̅̾ռ̵̛̛̝̝͈̪̍͆̚̕ɢ̵̢̘͈̺͈͕̓͐̏͋͜͠ʀ̶̹̙̤̼͇͘ʏ̵̤̼̾̎̓̓͐̀̄ ̴̹̤̯̈̇̌̑̂͘͜͜͠ɖ̵̛̗̮͙̩̬̃̿͑͌̿͊ɛ̷͇̯͋͑̇̋̕̚ֆ̸͇̺͓̒̀́̇̋̚ք̵̢̞̗͓̉͆̀ǟ̵̹̙̞̫͐̀̍̓̚͜͝ɨ̸̨̬̼͊̈́̈́́ͅʀ̴̢͙͇͈̜̑͗́̈́̈̽͝ͅ ̶͎̃͒ʍ̵͖̙̲̟̩̠̫̒̉̔͆̂̐ɛ̶͓̐̓̉̄̉̈̏օ̴̗̪͇͉̪͉͒̇ա̷̳̍ ̵̣̱̖͈̣̩̻̂ʍ̶̻̲̬̺̯̝͆͗ǟ̵͉͉͕̣̈̈́̽̂ͅɢ̵̧̖̭̰̪̟̔̈̎ɨ̵̙̫̊̑̌͝ƈ̵͎̗͒͐̎̚͝ ̶̧̙̈́̑̍͘͜ֆ̷̼̾̍̇͛͊̕ʟ̷̲̭͔͔̙̦̼̑͐͒̍͑ǟ̸̢̱̜̳̼͉͋̏̓̓̐͠ʊ̴̧̤̗̭̥́͆̉͘͝͝ɢ̴̰͈̗̮̌ͅɦ̴̠̮̪̟̈͊̒̉̍ȶ̷̡̙͔̻͙̟͆̅̾́͠ɛ̴̞͈͗́͌̓͂̂̉ʀ̴̧̥͙̩̻̙̿̒̀̐̈́͐́ ̸̥̻̐͘ʀ̴̨̯͎̭̙̆̓̍͊ɛ̷̧̛͋̊͒̄̔̆ʋ̸͔̯̂̑̓̃͌ɛ̷̧̧͍̘͇̭̗̐̒̎̀ռ̷̢̲̖̻͎̯̹́͠ɢ̵̛̟͉̊̈́̋̔͝ɛ̸̮̯̯̳̈̈́͑͜ ̴͓̩̖̤̰̄̉ɖ̴͕͕̝͙̿̆́̎ɛ̶̨̡̠̝͎̈́ֆ̴̗͐̉͗͝ȶ̵̢̢͙̟̎̾̚ʀ̴̝͕̝̩͍̍͆օ̴̯̭̉̀̀͝ʏ̴̧̘͕̰͉̼͂ͅ ̷̻͚̥̱̽͌̊͌̚͠ɖ̸̡͉̻̤̬̖͐ɛ̶͍͙͍̈́̏ֆ̶̘͕̼̙̫̎̋ȶ̵̱̎̌́ʀ̸̖̯̞̕օ̶̡̭̗̖̩͈͌̈́̈́ʏ̸̢̙̜͔̮̰̜͗͗̆́ ̵̻͓̯̈́́̀̚ɖ̷͕̾͋ɛ̸̨̧̺̠̗̻̰͊̌͂̏͠͝ֆ̶̭̝̪̪͑͊ͅȶ̴̡̩̯̤̜̜̏̄̉̔̎̎͜ʀ̶̻͈̥͌̀̐ͅօ̷̖̬̙̲̘͙̦̈̈́̌͑̊̄͝ʏ̸̨̻̝̲̟͑̆

The overlapping and incoherent voices keep increasing in volume as they gradually tear his eardrums and shatter his head apart from the inside!

He can’t—

ɖ̵̼̤̿̓̔̊͝ɛ̷̦͖̺̌̄̀̀͆͝ֆ̴̡͇͚̻̜̯̻͚̙̈́̿̌̿͐͋̈́̿͊̽͜ͅȶ̴̛͇̻̤̺͕̙̲̋̋ʀ̵̢̣͖̺͓̒͊̀̏̈́̆̈́͑͂͝օ̵̛̤̯̹̻̬͎̾̿̆̉̈́͐̽̇͑̃̚͜ʏ̸̡̛͇̠̟̩͕̯̫͈̾̏̔̀͒͝ ̷̩͎̤̦͌͘ɖ̴̠͙̝̗͉͉̿̋͜ɛ̸͙͇̮̔̒̈́̋ֆ̵͇͎̟̙̻̝̤͛̋͆ȶ̷̫͕̣̺̙̏̃͒́͠ʀ̴̯͆̈̒͂̈́͝օ̴̧̝̰͚̩̦̹͙̅̍̌͊̉͛̓̊ʏ̵͉̟̹̏̾͌̑̍̓̍̍̐̍́̕͜ ̵͙̜͈̪̲͉̒̈́͂̑̓́̃͑̕͜ɖ̴̢͙̤̻̘͍͎͓̦̱̳̣̆̀̑̈͛̿̓̕͝ɛ̷̜̘͎̤̃̕̚ֆ̴̪̻̓͛͒͛̒̀ȶ̶̪̦͎̯̝͎͍͊͒̍ͅͅʀ̶͍̗̠̟͔̼̺̺̙͋͜օ̶̫̎̔̓͊̍̈́̃̇̽̉̑͠ʏ̷̡̼̗͍̰̠͚͓͚̯̟̭̇̆ ̴̨̜̞̠͇̦̹̩̓̀͛̾̕͝ɖ̴̢̻͔̙̟̱͙̟̩̊͛͋̈́͋͛̂ɛ̵̨̩͓̻̫͎͊̾̇̓͜͝ֆ̵̛̭̳̦̼͍̯̩̳̰̻̃̎͐̇̇̌͂ȶ̷͇̘͖͍̔͂̃ʀ̸̼͕̇̍̌̏̽̀̂օ̸̯̮͉̪͚̖̜̪̞̏̉ʏ̴̟̽̐̇͝ ̸̡͕͍̺͕͈͆̾̎͛͝ɖ̴̡̛̞̭̞̲̎͌̂̐̿̈́͐̾͠͝ɛ̴͕̄̿̀͗̈́̀̚͜ֆ̴̛̣͈̥̱̮̜̪̉͒͒̈͗̃̏́̕ȶ̵͎̈͘͘ʀ̵͙́̊̉͛̐̄̓̌̈́͑օ̶͉͂̃͒̿̀͝͝ʏ̵̨̲͕̻͖̪̲͉͓̝̯͔̈́̈̀̑̀͑̓͒̏͌̍ ̴̠͍̟̹̼̈́͐̈́͐͊̆̇̃̈́̈̕ɖ̸̧̛̗̥̱͓̰̫͖̝̈́̀̌̓ɛ̸̺̰̠͕̜̮͋̒̋ֆ̸̡̱̭͙̝͉̣̩̱͚͛̓̿̿͑̽͘ȶ̴̡͚̦̦̫̍̏͆̿͐̕ʀ̴̨̡̫̤̖͔͉̠̈́̒̇̽̋̾̈́̂͘͝օ̷̼͈̹̫͇̪͇͚̉̄͐̄̌̒̋̓͂̈́͜ʏ̵̙̥̻͉̳̞̹̮̣̏͛̏̅̈̔͆̚̕͠ͅ ̶̼͈̝͚̤͕͕̗̈́͒̅̃͒ɖ̴̳̠̼̲̣͓͓͚̏̅̂͜ɛ̴̢̹̥͙͔̙̑̂̎̔͑̾́ֆ̶̨̘̞͉̥̙͊̂̈́͒̌̒̀̿ȶ̵̨̅̃̈̓͆̍̕̚̕ʀ̵̤̅͊͌͑̃̏͑́̿͊̏͝օ̸̘̏̍̄͊͌͝͝ʏ̵̰̓͐̂̅̈́̋̓ ̴̼͓͈̯̪͚̳̐͂͐̈́͒͒̈̎̆̽̓̚͜ɖ̸̘̙̉͗̈͌̀̒̆͒ɛ̴̨͂ֆ̸͙͉̲̿͗̓͆̉͒̈̚ȶ̷̡̢̨̛͔̣̠̰͖͕͇́̿̄ͅʀ̴̨̟͙͇̭̬͔͍̃̎͐͋̏̄̏̑̓͛̔͠օ̶̢̲͙̝̻͉̹̩̈̈́̏̈͐̔̆ʏ̵̯̭̳̖͙͐͊ ̶̲̝̬̘͔͈͆̿̉ɖ̸̮͉̱̙̦͉̀͑͆̉̾̽͒ͅɛ̸̥̞͓̠͚̻̭̬̲̟̎ֆ̵̙̰̯̠̍̔̑̐̽̀͘̚̕ͅȶ̷̻̦͖̮͓̳̘̦͙͆̎̾͛̃̊̕͜ʀ̵̢̛̰̯͔̪͌̂́̓̐̿̕͜͜͠օ̸̳͋̈́̀̀̅̍̃̕͠ʏ̶̨̦͈̻̞̥͎̦̜̥̬̂̔ͅ ̵̧̡̧̪͇̖̻̎̅̆̒̈̋̎ɖ̴̭͍̙̦̗͉̘̊͗̿̂͌͆̍̊͘͝͠͝ɛ̸̧̧̦̭͉̟͊̾ͅֆ̵̧̠̜͑̆̆̓̿͌́̐̀̑̔͝ȶ̴̡͇̘̤̗̹͎͚̫͍͔̈̿́͒͐ʀ̶̯̣̍́͊͑̀̀̈̈́̑̉̚͠օ̷̥̫̇͌ʏ̸̢̢̛͖̝͉̥̳͓̥̫̫̅̆̉̚ ̶̳̣̪̝̺̣͙̎͊́̆̈́̆̂̈̄̿́͜͜ɖ̵͍̖͙̈́̂ɛ̴̡͔̠̟̬̙̱̥̦̝̹̔̃̑̈́̾̚̕ֆ̷̲͚̤̻̪͋͐̅̕͘ȶ̵̡̛͔̼͎̹̫̯̟̜̩̌̈̆̀̏̿̀̾̅͐͜ʀ̵̬̝͓͖̥͓̪̻͕͐͝օ̸̡̢̮̤̦͕̠͇̑͝͝ʏ̶̲̮̀̇̑̄̽͂͒͛͜—̶͎̥͔͎̫͉̤̱̇͂̇͒̀̚͝

“Scar!”

He gasps intensely and jumps violently, feeling two hands holding a firm grip on his shoulders, snapping him out of his stupor and makes ignoring the savage voices a bit easier, focusing on the familiar pair of azure eyes looking at him without judgement.

“Can you breathe for me? Please?” Grian requests with a soft voice and curves his lips into a smile.

For some reason, Scar’s throat hurts, so he decides to nod in affirmation and starts to inhale through his nose, holds it in for a few seconds and finally releases it through the mouth.

“Take it slowly…” Grian mutters.

He repeats this a couple of times, sensing the burst of energy diminishing gradually until it fully retreats back into his core.

“You’re doing great!” Grian beams as he whisper yells.

Scar can’t help but mirror the bright expression as well, slowly resuming his fast heartbeat back to their constant and calm rhythm.

“I- I’m- I’m sorry, Scar. I- I shouldn’t have forced you to talk about it.” Grian grimaces in apology and lowers his head in shame, clenching his current chocolate locks with a trembling hand.

“It’s okay, dude.” Scar softly smiles as he slowly unclenches Grian’s grip and holds it firmly with both hands. “Apparently I can still use my vex magic even in your body.” He shares solemnly. “I haven’t been able to give them attention after my health issue recently, so they’re just acting like needy girlfriends and screaming inside my head like there’s no tomorrow.” He snickers at the lighthearted comment.

“If you say so.” Grian cracks a smile and huffs fondly.

Meow!

“Oh!” Scar chimes in before chuckling. “There’s my other girlfriend begging for food. Can I at least grab my own grub first?”

Grian snorts in amusement, “Why don’t we eat as well?” He suggests once he fetches the cane by the bedside table before standing up with wobbly feet. “I don’t know about you, but I am starving.”

“Alright, mister.” Scar shakes his head fondly before standing up himself, staying by Grian’s side to be able to assist anytime.

The two Hermits begin their way downstairs slowly but surely, through the short spiral wooden staircase that leads them to the hallway of his first floor.

T̵̗̒н̸͚̎а̶̹̔̿п̴̖̺͊к̴̳̿͂$̸͚̌.̵̺̹́͠

Who was that?

“Did you say something?” Scar turns to his best friend and questions with a tilt of his head.

“No? Why?” Grian furrows his brows in confusion.

“Oh. It must’ve been the wind, then.” Scar casually concludes with mouth agape in wonder.

It doesn’t sound like the usual voices from the vexes.

Chapter Text

Blinking a couple of times, Scar hums in wonder as to why he can see his tree outside and inside at the same time.

Is he half-asleep again?

He steps one foot forward in hesitation, seeing the outside view is the one that’s moving.

Ah, so he's outside, then.

What if he closes his other eye and perceives if he can only see one place over the other?

With his hand covering one eye, he can gaze at his tree from an outside angle but half, while the inside perspective is still perfectly visible.

Oh, man.

He thought it was a good idea at first, but apparently not. Does this mean he'll have to deal with this forever?

Oh, no!

He can't work like this! He still needs to start building his theme park in the future and considering the massive size, he doubts this double vision or whatever this is will be much of a help.

In fact, it's only going to hinder his progress more than his own distracted self can already do!

Should he message a Hermit? But Grian told him to keep their situation a secret.

How about Xisuma? He's the main admin. Surely, Grian can compromise, right?

Right?

Right.

Scar takes a few deep breaths in through his nose, holding it in for a few seconds before releasing them with a heavy exhale through the mouth, easing his throbbing chest slightly. Repeating this action a few times, he can finally feel his nerves calming down. As he tries to straighten his posture, he clenches his teeth so much that they might shatter after being hit with the hottest sensation in the world.

Why does his back really hurt so much?

It feels like he's been pouring lava all over from behind, slowly scorching his skin into ash, gradually phasing through his flesh until the burning liquid arrives at his bones, fully setting his back on fire until his flesh is fully charred and nothing is left. He can only whimper at the overwhelming pain and stands as still as possible until it gradually subsides, bearable for him to move again, albeit with a flinch in anticipation from another horrifying session.

Luckily, it's gone.

What was that about?

He's fully aware that it's a phantom pain. He knows it from first-hand experience when they… never mind.

"Scar!"

"Yes!" Scar yells a reply in reflex, realizing last minute that he doesn't need to do that anymore.

With his vision still doubled, he turns his head to try to see where the voice came from, furrowing his brows and flattening his lips in full concentration while observing both scenery, noticing there's a silhouette approaching his way from the outside view. In reflex, he runs forward to meet that person but hits something hard, crouching and caressing his stomach immediately.

Ow!

What was that?

"Scar, what are you doing?" Scar's voice inquires with a flat voice, making Scar himself frown since he didn't say anything yet he can hear himself talking.

Oh, right.

Now he remembers.

"Nothing." Scar grunts from the painful sensation. "Just… hugging myself, you know?"

Grian suddenly gasps and keeps quiet for too long, long enough for Scar to endure the hurt and look up to see his face staring at his direction, eyes wide and mouth agape in dread.

Is he okay?

"Grian? Yoo-hoo, are you there?" Scar waves a hand in front of the builder's face, removing it once he sees the latter flinching in recognition. "You're awake. Whew!" He wipes an imaginary sweat off his forehead in relief. "Are you okay, dude? You look upset."

"Upset? Me?" Grian points a thumb to himself. "Look in the mirror, dude." He raises a brow with a smirk. "You're the one who's crouching in pain after being hit with his own tree's branch." He crosses his arms and huffs in amusement.

"What? Where?" Scar turns around to see said branch sprouting on the trunk of his starter base. "Huh, I didn't notice that being there before." He tilts his head in wonder.

"So, can you see properly now? No double or triple visions or whatsoever?" Grian prods while offering a hand.

What is the avian talking about?

He blinks for a moment, noticing how he can only see what's in front of him, stretching his lips into a wide smile in silent victory. He doesn't have any idea how it suddenly happened and how it was suddenly resolved, but he's happy and satisfied.

"Yeah!" Scar throws a fist above his head before standing to his full, albeit short height. "How did you know?"

"Just a guess." Grian shrugs. "You literally bumped into your own base when it's right in front of you." He comments as he snickers.

"Hey! At least I didn't break anything." Scar squawks in retaliation and crosses his arms.

"Fair, fair."

As if on cue, a flower sprouts from the grass and grows into a size similar to Mumbo's height, roaring right into Scar's face and opening its mouth wide like it wants to eat him whole.

"Agh! Grian, help!" Scar shrieks in panic, staring widely at its slimy insides as the razor-sharp teeth inch closer.

Unable to move from his spot as he's frozen in fear, he can only shut his eyes and wait for the inevitable.

Hopefully, the respawn won't be so painful this time.

The ear-splitting growl suddenly quiets down, making it his que to crack open one eye, only to see the flower monster dissipating like smoke.

What in the world just happened?

Wait, what about Grian? Is he okay?

Scar whips his head around, moving his gaze one spot to another to find his feathered friend, seeing Grian sprouting a pair of vex wings and eyes glowing vibrant blue with red veins spreading across them.

Gasping at the sight, the builder's vex-like features disappear within seconds until he fully reverts to his humanoid appearance.

"Grian, h-how did you—?" Scar gapes as he stares at Grian's direction like a deer in the headlights, speechless.

"S-Sorry- I- I don't—" Grian stammers before being interrupted by sudden dings.

In reflex, Scar fishes for his device from his pocket, opening the public chat to see it flooding with messages from various Hermits.

"What's going on?" Scar furrows his brows while ignoring a crack in his voice, as his eyes are unable to keep up with the speed of the overflowing texts.

"I don't know, but I've read a few of them talking about strange things and creatures appearing in their bases." Grian scratches his forehead while tilting his head in wonder.

Another ding can be heard, along with a notification in his screen about a private message. Clicking it, it redirects him to Xisuma's DMs.

Uh, oh.

"X just DMed me about it, too. But why? I didn't do anything!" Scar exclaims before another ding interrupts him, noticing another private message and clicks it to see it's from Cub. "Cub, too! What's this about my magic going out of control? I'm not the one who's controlling my body, though!"

"Scar." Grian calls.

"Y-Yes?" Scar hesitates while moving his attention to his friend.

"We should really call the people who have knowledge about our magic. Now." Grian demands with a firm tone.

Why does Scar have a bad feeling about this decision?

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As the main admin removes his helmet, Xisuma massages his temple with his free hand before sighing deeply. Beside him is Cub, Pearl, and Zedaph standing with various faces but all of them are of bewilderment. Considering Scar and Grian's situation, it's not surprising for them to be confused at all.

“Cool hairstyles, guys. Are you planning on changing your images or something?” Zed compliments as he smirks.

“The fringe is annoying, and I want it gone.” Scar groans.

“I really wanna cut this so badly.” Grian deadpans.

"So, let me get this straight." Xisuma starts. "You're Scar." He states while pointing a finger towards Grian's (Scar) direction.

"Y-Yeah." Scar turns to face Xisuma and nods hesitantly.

"And you're Grian." Xisuma points to Scar's (Grian) direction.

"Yep." Grian pops the p as he crosses his arms with a tired huff, wrinkling his sleeves.

"And how did this happen exactly?" Xisuma inquires with a high-pitched voice.

"I woke up and became like this." Scar replies happily.

"Probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed." Grian answers at the same time with a casual shrug.

Xisuma sighs more deeply while massaging the bridge of his nose.

"X, if you keep letting the stress get to you, the wrinkles on your forehead will keep increasing and you'll grow old faster." Zedaph intercepts knowingly.

"If I can retire, I would've done it already." Xisuma retorts in a disappointed tone. "Okay!" He cheerfully states as he puts back on his helmet and claps his hands.

"We can't let anyone know about this problem until we're fully aware of what we're dealing with. So, I suggest we—" Xisuma gestures his hands to include the Hermits beside him. "—will train you troublemakers—" He points a finger towards Scar and Grian. "—to at least control each other's abilities to keep the current situation under control, until I figure out what's happening.

"Now, 'troublemaker' is such a strong word, don't you think?" Grian retorts with a smirk.

"Does this mean we're sworn to secrecy for now?" Cub raises a hand in question.

"Yes. That'll be much appreciated." Xisuma nods in affirmation.

Scar casually pinches his thigh from inside his pocket, keeping himself awake as more questions from the other Hermits continue to flow like a river.

When will this end?

He's bored.

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Since it will attract so much attention, everyone has decided to do the training in the Savanna biome far away from civilization, where Cub is supposed to build something 'interesting' in the future. That something is enough for Scar to interrogate his fellow vex on the way there, along with Zedaph asking a couple of questions here and there regarding their race. Glancing to his side, he can spot Grian laughing at what Pearl is probably saying while Xisuma joins in with a chuckle.

At first, he was vibrating with excitement after being told that they had to fly to the specified area. Which means, he gets to use a real pair of wings.

Unfortunately, since the reason they're going there in the first place is to control the unfamiliar magic, he can't materialize said appendages.

"Grian, why did you hide them? Now I can't try them!" Scar cried.

"They're annoying to sleep with!" Grian yelled.

Glancing at the artificial wings buckled on his back, he sighs in disappointment.

Once they arrive at their destination, they all swirl in the air as they slowly glide to the ground. A sharp pain suddenly stabs his back, causing him to lose balance mid-air from surprise and falls flat on the grass with his face.

"Ow." Scar muffled deadpans.

"Scar! Are you alright?" Cub's worried voice approaches, making Scar look up to see the scientist offering a hand.

"Yeah. I'm okay." Scar accepts it and stands up, patting his red sweater and pants to remove the dirt and grass. "It's a bit difficult getting used to this body, that's all."

After that slight delay, they soon begin what they came here for.

Yes!

He can finally try flapping those colorful wings!

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"Wow, that's not something you see everyday." Impulse blinks as he gapes at something from afar.

"What? Where is it?" Tango squints and brings a hand above his eyes, shielding them from the sun while moving his gaze around, only to see Grian talking animatedly with Cub and Zed while Scar does the same with Pearl and Xisuma.

"Are they planning on a collab project sooner or later?" Impulse muses as he crosses his arms.

"Hm." Tango hums while continuing to observe the scenery ahead of him.

Huh. Well, that's a unique group, that's for sure.

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With full concentration, Scar keeps up with what Pearl and Xisuma instruct him to do, listening and nodding to every word as he dedicates all of his attention to them. Using his comm, he inputs all the important points by messaging himself to make sure he won't forget them.

Wings, wings…

He yelps in surprise when he can see in front of him, whatever Grian is doing with Cub and Zedaph a few meters away from him, Jellie stealing a salmon from a Hermit's plate, and Bdubs dancing some unique moves all at the same time. Putting his hands ahead of him, he tries to understand what place he should be focusing and ironically walks blindly, only to grunt in pain when he hits something.

"Ow!" Scar yells while caressing his forehead, spotting from one of his four visions that he apparently hit a tree.

"Scar, come back!" Pearl's voice screams from behind.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Scar reassures as he slowly turns back to face his fellow terraformer. "I can still see four things at once, though, so it's hard to actually see anything." He chuckles.

Wings, wings!

He'll do anything to be able to use those beautiful wings even just once!

Won't it be cool to swoop in like an airplane and drop something?

Snickering to himself, he runs towards Pearl's direction in glee, skidding to a stop in an instant when he sees an Ender Dragon roaring and swooping towards him.

"Oh, my gosh!" Scar shrieks and immediately whips back to run away.

"Scar!"

Is that Cub?

What's going on?

Why is the dragon here in the Overworld?

"A- A little help!" Scar cries as he huffs and puffs, glancing back to see the dragon opening her mouth, emitting purple glow once it fires Dragon's Breath.

Uh, oh.

Today's respawn is definitely going to hurt.

Clenching his eyes shut to prepare himself for the worst, the roaring suddenly disappears, leaving an awkward radio silence apart from a few thumping but light footsteps.

Why is he having déjà vu?

With a slight delay, he cracks open an eyelid to sneak a peek, only to see the bright sky and no Ender Dragon. He gasps and fully opens his eyes wide in surprise, looking left to right to see nothing, as if it's only a dream.

Or a nightmare for that matter.

"Scar, I'm so sorry!" Grian flies using vex wings towards his way. "Cub taught me to master your illusion magic, but it got a bit out of hand when he told me to imagine a creature appearing here when it shouldn't have." He explains in one breath while rubbing the back of his neck, clenching his leafy elven coat around his chest.

"Grian, you're flying!" Scar cheers.

"That was my bad. I should've informed you sooner." Cub huffs and puffs beside Scar as he apologizes.

A high-pitched scream interrupts them, making Scar and Cub snap their attention towards the source, only to see Grian lying on the grass with his back before frantically standing up like nothing happened.

"Did you just fall?" Scar inquires with pursed lips.

"No, I attacked the floor." Grian denies with a deadpan.

"...Backwards?" Cub raises a brow as he prods.

"I'm amazingly talented." Grian insists with an intense expression, leaning his face close towards the two vexes' own. "You saw nothing. Okay?"

"Yeah, totally." Scar chuckles nervously. "Everyone definitely didn't see the whole thing. Right, guys?" He feigns ignorance with a high-pitched voice.

"That was a brilliant splat, Griba!" Pearl yells from afar, causing the said Hermit to flush red.

"N-No I didn't." Grian denies with a quiet voice.

"Make sure not to fall next time!" Xisuma follows suit.

"I- I wasn't. Dude, wh-what do you mean? I'm standing right now." Grian persists while he crosses his arms.

"Should I post the video that I totally didn't capture in the public chat?" Zedaph questions with a loud voice while waving his comm.

"Zed, we're sworn to secrecy for now, so make sure to create a group chat with just us six!" Cub informs loudly with a huge smile.

"Roger that!" Zedaph affirms while giggling, making Scar laugh at everyone's antics.

"All of you will pay for this!" Grian covers his blushing face with both hands.

Scar bursts into a fit of laughter, hearing the others doing the same thing. Not long after, he clutches his stomach once he can feel it hurting.

It's painful but a good type. He won't mind this kind every once in a while, if it means he can continue to hang out with everyone and enjoy it just like how they are doing now.

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

"Wings, wings! I'm so excited!"

"You look like a kid riding an aeroplane for the first time, dude."

"It's unfair you get to use those cool wings but not me. Also, it's airplane. Not aeroplane, Grian."

"It's not my fault I was born with wings! Plus, you already have your own."

"Vex wings have their own limitations, man!"

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"After all the effort… Why can't I sprout them?"

"Ah, I figured. Their- M-My magic requires more concentration and precision than yours, so the control you earned in keeping the disruptive nature of vex magic at bay won't help you at all."

"Come on! It's so unfair!"

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

The azure color of the sky begins to shift into its orange hue as the sun gradually sets into the horizon, whistling sounds accompanying it as all of them fly towards Hermit Town. Once they arrive, they land gracefully onto the grass.

"It never happened, right? The moment with Grian earlier." Xisuma snickers while placing a hand on his hip.

"Y-You're right. Wh-Why are you bringing this up? It didn't- A-Are trying to prove something or what?" Grian comments nonchalantly as he averts his gaze.

"It definitely happened." Scar laughs silently.

"I didn't see anything, which means it didn't exist." Grian insists as he crosses his arms.

"It was all a dream." Zedaph drawls and waves his hands slowly in a circling motion.

"We're all good." Cub shrugs his shoulders as he tucks his hands into the pockets of his lab coat.

"Exactly." Grian nods in agreement.

"I don't know about you guys, but I. Am. Beat." Scar stretches his arms above his head, back cracking in return and sighs in relief.

"You two better get some rest. I already took care of the earlier mess a few minutes ago, so you don't need to worry about it." Xisuma informs with a solemn voice. "See you tomorrow!" He waves a hand goodbye before walking away.

"Thanks, X!" Grian beams.

"Goodbye!" Scar expresses at the same time.

Not long after, everyone follows suit and disperse into their respective bases, while Scar and Grian run towards the side of Scar's tree where Jellie is waiting for their return.

He crouches down to ruffle his beloved family's fluffy fur, chuckling as she purrs in return. Glancing to his side, he can see Grian cooing, only to flinch to see the avian current vex's eyes are flickering purple. He rubs his own eyes with a free hand before glancing back, furrowing his brows in confusion to see them as a similar shade to a bright and azure sky as usual.

What was that about?

Did he just imagine it?

From the corner of his vision, he can see a certain rock moving when it's not supposed to.

“Grian?” Scar drawls as he pats the builder’s shoulder without looking away.

“Yeah?” Grian responds with a smile from the corner of his eye.

“Is it just me or is your boulder walking towards the new Shopping District?” Scar gapes as he stares at the said starter base with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?” Grian's eyes blow wide, snapping his head towards the currently crawling rock.

It's fine to make it move and all, but why is it a spider, of all things?

Why can't it be a cute cat or something?

Chapter Text

The peaceful sounds from the surrounding area have been drowned out by the excruciating ringing, grunting in pain while Scar plants both hands into his throbbing temples as if it'll help ease the hurt.

What the heck happened to Grian in their final moments while Scar was walking under the moonlight?

The ringing has been persistent ever since they came back from another death game, causing some unexplainable issues in his ears, mainly this annoying noise inside his head and muffled hearing every now and then.

Does this mean his soulmate was attacked by a warden?

Should he have stayed in the Deep Dark instead of leaving his partner alone to fight the other survivors?

He ruffles his already unkempt hair with both hands, furthermore messing it up in annoyance.

He doesn't know anymore!

Sighing in disappointment, he lowers his hands and squats on the wooden floor in defeat, pursing his dried lips into a grimace as the moments of the recent death game flash before his eyes, vivid as the reflection of the builder ahead of him instead of his own face.

Summoning the dormant energy inside his body, he closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath in and out, easily bringing it out as it struggles to break free from his hold. With one last push, he successfully draws what vex magic he can find from inside of him to the surface, imagining that his appearance is not of the avian's but his own.

He opens his eyes hesitantly, gasping to see the familiar scars decorating his pale face. His lips automatically stretch into a cheeky smile, reaching to his long pointy ears like how they used to as he chuckles. All of a sudden, the weight on his chest dissipates, enabling him to intake the cool air with ease.

Even though he's not a natural-born vex, he kind of enjoys using its capabilities. Despite being a difficult magic to deal with, once he got the hang of it, it's quite fun to pull pranks with its help. It got him into all sorts of situations but in the end, this magic was the one that ultimately saved him from that cruel world.

Without warning, his own face disappears as quickly as they came and is replaced with his partner's appearance, the bright smile falling in an instant and warps into a blank expression along with the familiar constricted feeling in his heart. He looks down to see his hands shaking, clenching them so much that his nails draw blood for digging through his palms.

It's so unfair!

Can he at least get a break from him?

Of course, life won't make it easy for him to forget his fellow Hermit's visage for just a few seconds. A ding interrupts him, making him retrieve his device from his pocket and reads the public chat, seeing that the participants of the recent death game are planning to have a meeting. While biting his lower lip, he replies with an apology for not feeling well, so he won't be able to make it.

He's not in the mood to leave this house right now.

Plus, Scar doubts he can also stay at Grian's side longer than he already did, anyway. He digs a hand into his pocket and takes a thing out, bringing it in front of him to see his elven cookie. He scowls at the sight that makes him remember the whole ordeal with BigB and his supposed soulmate.

Some partner he is.

Whether he refers to it to himself or the builder, he's not sure.

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

A muffled knock could be heard from underneath the comforter, scrunching his nose as he ignored it and simply turned to the wall, covering his entire body further with the blanket. The sound continued but Grian was more persistent on not answering it, clenching his teeth to suppress his anger from coming out.

"Okay! Since you're not answering, I'm coming in!" An irritatingly familiar voice singsonged from the other side.

Wait, what?

"Wait—" Grian called as he frantically got up from his cocoon, rubbing his eyes in a hurry whilst reaching out towards the door with another hand that swung open right in front of him.

From it was a blonde teen with an unkempt fringe and crimson eyes, wearing a red shirt, black shorts, and a pair of white snickers, barging in Grian's room against his will as the other exposed his razor-sharp teeth through a smile in greeting.

Ugh, the last person he ever wanted to see from his already foul mood.

"What do you want, Aine?" Grian inquired with an undertone and narrow eyes.

"What? Don't you wanna see your older brother?" Aine smirked whilst leaning forward.

Aine halted to stare at Grian's direction, but he only crossed his arms and kept his mouth shut. He's not going to let this teen barge into his life and ruin it again!

"Look." Aine sighed deeply in defeat. "I know that saying our relationship for the past few years had been rough is putting it lightly." He solemnly explained whilst sitting on the foot of the bed as Grian inched further towards the headboard. "But, can you at least let me talk to you one last time before your flight for Japan tomorrow?" He faced the younger brother's direction with furrowed brows as he pleaded.

Grian brought his knees to his throbbing chest and embraced them, burying his grimacing face towards his arms as he remembered how his brother used to claim that they'll always be together. And yet, he never did a thing when they were forced to separate when mum and dad got divorced. Ever since mum decided to move to another country with him, Aine had the guts now to act like a brother when he basically abandoned him all those years ago?

"Y-You promised." Grian whimpered whilst the back of his eyes hurt from holding back tears.

"What?" Aine blurted with a quiet voice.

"You promised that we'll always be together, but you never did anything after they separated!" Grian looked up as he cried, seeing his brother flinching in place and lowered his reaching hand. "Even when you have all the chance in the world to do something while we visit mum and dad alternately, you still act like everything's normal!" He continued to rant whilst randomly throwing his hands in the air. "And now you have the nerve to pretend to be my brother? Screw you!" He pointed an accusatory finger towards a wincing Aine before desperately huffing and puffing.

"Sorry." Aine pursed his lips and averted his gaze.

"Come off it! Is that all you have to say?" Grian snapped.

Unbelievable.

Grian's sobbing filled the suffocating air as they both stayed quiet in place, the younger wiping his teary face with his sleeves whilst ignoring what used to be his sibling.

"There were beings more powerful than any creature in the universe, who were known to destroy any planet they could find however they pleased." Aine started.

"What?" Grian gaped in confusion.

"They were considered gods by others, considering their massive power. Some call them deities, some associate them with voidwalkers but in the end, nobody really knows because everyone who even had the chance to encounter them couldn't live long enough to tell the tale." He continued to share as he stood from his position, walking towards Grian's desk to fetch himself a pen and paper before going back.

Was he changing the subject?

What's going on with him?

For now, he'd listen to what his 'brother' had to say. If he still wouldn't explain how he miserably failed as a sibling, this conversation’s over.

"But there's one thing people had in common despite all the baseless rumors and gossip." Aine sketched something Grian couldn't see from his angle. "Those beings all had this symbol etched in their creations." He brought the paper ahead of him, showcasing the younger blonde a blurred drawing of a rectangle with two severed corners and dots between the gaps.

"What is that? A portal?" Grian leaned closer and narrowed his eyes for a closer look.

He really needed that new pair of glasses right about now. If only he hadn't accidentally stepped on it yesterday…

"I dunno." Aine shrugged whilst putting the parchment aside. "But every info I got from those beings had a few similarities and this was one of them. Apparently it's made out of bedrock."

"And what's the other one?"

"They can see everything." Aine showcased another paper with a drawing of an eye with lashes.

"Is that like, the Eye of Providence with long eyelashes but you forgot the triangle or something?" Grian tilted his head to get a better look.

"Nope." Aine popped the p. "Just remember these two symbols, Gri. That way, no matter where you go, no matter what planet you're gonna end up with, you'll be warned ahead not to make contact or oppose these otherworldly creatures. Ever." He warned firmly.

"Wh-What got you serious all of a sudden? This is just a bedtime story, right? I hear Timmy crying about it all the time." Grian raised a brow skeptically and chuckled nervously.

"I—" Aine cut himself as tears suddenly fell from his eyes. "I'm sorry for being such a horrible brother to you, man." He jumped to Grian and embraced him, tightening his hold whilst his tears soaked the younger blonde's shoulder. "You're completely justified if you wanna beat my face badly after all that, but- but I just wanna keep you safe till the very end b-before dad and I will leave for US after this since… I- I might never get the chance to see you again."

Wait, they're not the only ones who will leave the UK forever?

Does that mean Aine had to leave his friends behind as well? If he didn't want to, why won't he say it to mum and dad, then? Surely, they'll understand if both of their sons didn't want to be separated from their friends and each other, right?

Grian already told them that he would be very lonely without Mumbo, Pearl, Martyn, Timmy, and the others, but they wouldn't take no for an answer just because he wasn't an adult.

It's so unfair…

"Be careful, alright?" Aine sniffled. "N-Now that I won't be there to look out for your stupid butt, you have to be very careful of dangerous people. Choose your friends wisely and never do something stupid to those beings." He firmly held Grian's shoulder with a quivering hand.

"Come on. At least give me some credit that I'm not dumb enough to do that." Grian rolled his eyes.

"I know you very well enough that you're gonna prank anyone at any chance you get, even if they're influential or much older than you." Aine retorted with a deadpan.

"I- Fair enough." Grian gaped.

Without warning, the door slammed open, causing the two siblings to jump violently at the same time, before whipping their attention to the person huffing and puffing by the entrance. Grian raised a brow in wonder.

It's dad, but he looked panicked.

What's got him worked up?

"Aine, we gotta go. Now." Dad demanded with an undertone.

What?

Why?

Aine said they still had a day before the flight, right?

"D-Dad, but- but I- I thought we still have—" Grian stammered as his heart refused to slow down, rising in every beat.

"Grian, make sure you have packed everything. You're leaving with your mum in ten minutes." Dad added with haste and furrowed brows.

"B-But… Aine, say something!" Grian turned to his brother whilst clenching his teeth.

"I…" Aine stopped for a moment as he grimaced, before sighing in defeat. "Sorry, bud. Give me a minute, dad."

Not again.

Just because he wouldn't say anything, all of this was happening to them.

Why won't Aine refuse? Didn't he want to be with him?

Or was it just Grian's wishful thinking?

"I- I'm coming." Grian mumbled numbly, staring onto the floor whilst breaking out in a cold sweat from the uncontrollable situation.

The door closed with a soft click, leaving the room engulfed with cold air and ear-splitting silence.

What was the point of all this?

If he was the only one who cared about this stupid family, what was the use of trying to bring everyone together like they used to?

"So are you telling me there was no point in staying with this family anymore?" Grian muttered to himself as he curled his trembling hands.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it." Aine leaned his ear closer.

"Just talking to myself." Grian deadpanned.

"I- Never forget what I told you earlier, okay?" Aine strained a smile.

"How can I be careful if I don't even know the name of those so-called deities?" Grian inquired apathetically.

It didn't matter anymore.

Why couldn't they stay with each other?

Maybe he wouldn't understand because he's just a kid, naive and ignorant of the outside world.

From the start, there was no way to mend their bonds, yet he never paid any mind and pretended they still had a chance.

It was a fruitless effort.

"Right." Aine rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. "Like I said, th-these guys have many names but- but th-there's one they're mostly called for being all-seeing and- and literally have eyes a-all throughout their bodies." He stammered as he bit his lower lip into a grimace.

Why did his brother look like that?

Like, he had been hiding something important and enduring something painful.

Should he ask?

No.

Why should he care?

He's probably imagining it.

"And that is?" Grian numbly indulged.

"Watchers."

УФЦ CДLLΞD?

Grian jolts himself awake, huffing and puffing vigorously as he stares widely at Scar's his current bedroom ceiling, tracing the different lines of the wooden surface as he continues to take a few deep breaths until his raging heart finally calms down.

Why was he dreaming about the past now?

It just makes him realise over and over how foolish he was back then.

He simply curls his fists so much that the nails dig through his calloused palms whilst biting his lower lip, scrunching his nose and glares above him like expressing his misplaced anger now will change something.

ЦИFФЯΓЦИДΓΞLУ, IΓ ЩФИ'Γ.

Shut up!

УФЦ SHФЦLD CLΞДИ ЦP ΓHΞ ΓЦMБLΞЩΞΞDS PILIИG ЦP IИ УФЦЯ БДSΞ.

He's not in the desert anymore. Move on!

ЩΞ ҜИФЩ УФЦ ИΞVΞЯ ЩILL. ИФ MДΓΓΞЯ HФЩ MЦCH УФЦ ΓЯУ, ЩΞ ЩILL MДҜΞ SЦЯΞ УФЦ ЩФИ'Γ.

"Why are you doing this?" Grian sobs.

Is it really that fun seeing him suffer like this?

"What will you gain?" He adds.

ДИGSΓ.

What does that mean?

.

.

.

Hello?

"Hey, come back!" Grian demands as he sits up. "We're not done talking yet!"

Grian wipes the tears off his eyes furiously, scratching his already messy long hair repeatedly as the boiling irritation won't leave, continuing to rise and rise like a magma towards the crater—dominating him completely until it engulfs his entire being.

They're always like this, babbling whatever they want from the sidelines to test his patience without even doing it to his face.

Cowards!

Heck, they even stopped rhyming at one point.

What? Are they sick and tired of doing that or something?

Because he is, that's for sure.

Whilst drowning in his own anger, Grian doesn't notice how a certain energy, which was supposed to be in his original vessel, that's been dormant somewhere deep within his very soul begins to surface unconsciously, rising along with his intent to strangle those wretched beings right at this very moment.

He dislikes them for invading his world in the first place.

He hates them for doing those stupid poems.

He despises them for manipulating his friends.

He loathes them for destroying his only home.

He resents them for taking an interest in him despite being so spiteful.

He detests them for making him one of them against his will.

And worst of all, he abhors himself for being powerless despite having their despicable power flowing through his very veins.

The same repulsive magic that harmed his family and let them turn on each other, scarring them for life.

As Grian blinks away the overflowing tears again (since when did that occur?), he notices too late that he can see everything all at once, gasping whilst spotting the eyes with various sizes surrounding his arms and legs, blinking at different times.

No no no no—

This can't be true.

It's physically impossible for him to be able to do this since he's in Scar's body, so why is this happening?

"Why?" Grian whimpers as his hands tremble in cold sweat, clenching them so tightly they draw blood.

This is why he hates this very much.

He never should've accepted the condition of becoming one of them.

If he hadn't, the death games would never have existed in the first place and his friends wouldn't have to be hurt like that. They'll be very mad if they figured it all out eventually, but he can't just spill the beans. He doesn't want them to hate him.

He's selfish.

This really is all his fault.

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

Ї̵̼̊ ̵͈̂н̸̗̽а̷̞̅т̴̘̔ё̸̙͋ ̸̻̔т̵͖̏н̶̨̒ї̴̬͋$̷͓͂ ̵̰̃$̴͍̓ѳ̵̩͐ ̴͚͘ѫ̸̩̔ц̷͚͠c̴͎̆н̸̻͝.̸̝͠

Hm?

̷̰̓Ї̶̗̑ ̸̯̌п̸̦̚ё̶̙͝ѷ̸̣ё̵̦͗я̶̙͛ ̵̱̓$̴̝̊н̶͓̚ѳ̴͎͑ц̵͎̈́ѓ̶̣д̶̲͌'̸̝̉ѵ̶͖̽ё̸͖̋ ̷̩̅ё̴̫̓ж̸̙̓ї̴̗́$̴̙̃т̸͓͐ё̶͉̋д̶͈̐.̶̘͆

What was that, vexes?

A movement distracts him and looks down, only to see his hands quivering all on their own. He clenches it to see if they'll stop, spreading his fingers once more to see that they're still shaking.

What in the world?

It's been weird, lately. Scar has been having these weird sensations that contradicts his mood, alongside with hearing the vexes' voices wrong and he already asked Cub about it, but apparently his companions over there sounded fine.

So, what gives?

From the corner of his eye, he notices something slithering and yelps while facing it, only to see twisting vines sprouting from the spruce planks floor and strains his neck to see it stopping at the copper roof of the tower.

Uh, his vex magic can't do that.

Which means…

But he already mastered using it, though. So, why did he accidentally activate it to make this thing? He can't summon a pair of wings, but he can apparently do something like this.

"This doesn't make sense!" Scar exclaims with a high-pitched voice, jolting as he hears a loud thud.

Turning around, he sees the chests all gradually opening and closing on their own, thumping and thumping as the thuds are getting louder and faster while he's only able to look at them with wide eyes. He runs to one of them and hastily shuts them with both hands, pushing it as hard as he can but it won't budge. Before he realizes, a hard object drops on his head, immediately crouching onto the floor as he winces in pain.

He caresses his head with a hand and instantly recoils from the sting, grumbling in annoyance as he carefully turns around to see what hit him, spotting a lantern lying on the ground beside him.

Ah, there's the culprit of his pain and suffering.

He notices something red from the bottom part of the light, concluding that it's blood. As if on cue, something liquid flows from beneath his fringe towards his chin, quickly wiping it with the back of his hand to see red.

Uh, this is probably bad.

A knock interrupts and he flinches in surprise, whipping his head around for something to wipe the blood, looking down to realize he's wearing a similar color of the liquid.

Nice.

"Hello?" Tango's muffled voice calls.

"Dang it." Scar whispers under his breath as he marches towards the front while hastily wiping his forehead with his sleeve.

"Gri, are you there? There's something I need to—" Tango's muffled voice can be heard from behind the door as Scar opens it. "—tell you. I—" He jumps violently while the color drains from his face, furrowing his brows and mouth agape in dread. "Grian, you're bleeding!" He exclaims in panic as he plants both hands to Scar's shoulders.

"Oh, don’t worry. This blood isn’t mine." Scar reassures with a weak smile.

Technically, he's telling the truth.

Scar is currently inside Grian's body, so it's not his blood. He looks down and stares at the bloodstain from the back of his hand, sighing in defeat. He really should learn how to use other types of magic outside the vexes' specialty.

"Are you sure about that? The red stuff clearly came from your signature fringe, I'm not gonna lie." Tango crosses his arms while raising a brow.

Apparently, it wasn't compelling enough.

"Yes, I'm sure! Are you saying that I'm lying, dude?" Scar scoffs, faintly jolting from how weird it sounds when he has to adjust his accent unprepared.

The two Hermits continue to concern themselves with the wound, Tango's matter and the opening chests that are silenced on accident have been long forgotten.

Chapter Text

The harmonised chirps of birds can be heard from the shut windows, waking Grian up with a groan. The avian rubs his sticky and heavy eyelids with one hand, rising from his lying with his chest down position. As he moves his limbs, he's immediately hit with a gut-wrenching pain from all over his body, biting his tongue like his life depends on it to stop himself from screaming right here and there.

After the hurt slowly but eventually subsides enough to be tolerable, he releases a breath he unknowingly holds as he huffs and puffs, scowling at the pillow before grabbing the cane by the bedside table with a shaking hand.

He heads to the flight of stairs that leads up to Scar's potion room, walking one step at a time, careful not to trigger another pain that feels like hell. Once he spots the familiar potion stand, he releases a sigh of relief before grabbing a few awkward potions and ingredients by the cabinet. With the help of his gained knowledge from that town, he's able to brew a couple of potions most people aren't aware of. He heads to the stand and begins mixing them, before the bottles spin as indication that the brewing stand is doing its job.

At first, it was an accident when he made this thing a couple of years back, but he sure was glad that it can still help him today. Without it, he wouldn't have withstood all the hurt that was inflicted to him—whether that be physically or psychologically.

Without a second to waste, he swipes a bottle and gulps down the contents, drinking it dry until its last drop. After putting the cork back, he can feel the tingly sensation gradually envelope him from limb to limb until it swallows the pain whole, leaving him with temporary relief. Putting one foot forward and another, he tests whether the potion works or not. When it doesn't feel like his appendages aren't being crushed anymore, he releases a sigh about its success.

He wobbles left to right as he heads down the wooden stairs that will lead him to the bathroom, greeting Jellie with a wave and a smile along the way before closing the door behind him with a click. When he spots a crooked smile from the corner of his eye, he jumps violently and whips his head to see Scar’s appearance that’s now his reflection, grimacing at the horrid reminder of his carelessness.

A tumbleweed rolled over the yellow surface of the desert as the scorching wind brushed over their clothes, which were worn out from non-stop use, harsh weather, battles, blood that would never be removed no matter how much they tried to clean, and explosions. The last two were from both friend and foe.

Grian gasps and violently jolts from the sudden image in his mind, biting his lower lip so much that they draw blood but ignores it.

Chocolate hair, unkempt and messy from the previous sandstorm, danced with the blazing wind as his crimson gaze narrowed from the crooked smile stretching across his scarred face, showing nothing but enigma.

Which made it more concerning and eerie.

He grits his chattering teeth with force, curling his fingers into fists and digs his nails to his palms, forming small red crescents. He hates that look so much. It always leads to bad things that will end up with him getting hurt.

ʏօʊ ռɛʋɛʀ ʟɛʄȶ ȶɦɛ ɖɛֆɛʀȶ.

ɨȶ'ֆ ȶɦɛ ʀɛǟֆօռ աɦʏ ȶɦɛ ֆօʊʟɮօʊռɖֆ օƈƈʊʀʀɛɖ ɨռ ȶɦɛ ʄɨʀֆȶ քʟǟƈɛ.

He snaps his head behind him, greeting him with nothing but the shut door and furrows his brows.

Who said that?

ɨȶ’ֆ ʋɛʀʏ ʄʊռ ȶօ ֆɛɛ ʏօʊ ɦʊʀȶ ǟռɖ ֆȶʀʊɢɢʟɛ.

He releases a whimper as he feels the cold running down his spine once he realises who it is.

"A-Are you… the Vex?" Grian hesitates and jumps from how little his voice is.

ɖɛքɛռɖֆ օռ ʏօʊ.

"Wha—? That's not an answer!" Grian growls at everything and nothing as he continues to look around, sensing an energy surging out towards every part of his body.

ɮǟɮʏ ɮɨʀɖ ʄɛʟȶ ʟօռɛʟʏ աɨȶɦօʊȶ ɦɨֆ ֆօʊʟʍǟȶɛ?

"I'm not- Wait a minute. Stop imitating them, you stupid Watchers!" Grian spats whilst his shoulders repeatedly rise and fall at incredible speed, along with his tightening chest. "And Double Life was over weeks ago. How did you suddenly end up with that stupid conclusion?"

ₐww! Gᵣₑₑ₋ₒ𝚗 ᵢ𝘴 ₐ𝚗gᵣy.

Grian halts all movements in a snap of one's fingers, sensing the air is still as if time has stopped, shuddering from limb to limb when everything around him is as cold as ice.

How? Why is he—?

No. Grian made sure that he's not going to do something ever again before he ran away!

GФΓ УФЦ!

What?

УФЦ'ЯΞ CФЯЯΞCΓ.

ΓHДΓ ЯДББIΓ HУБЯID ЩILL ИФ LФИGΞЯ БΞ ДБLΞ ΓФ ЦSΞ ФЦЯ БLΞSSIИG ДGДIИ, ИФ ΓHДИҜS ΓФ УФЦ.

"That's the best news I've heard all month!" Grian huffs and smirks as he comments in confidence, crossing his arms to his puffing chest for good measure.

Should he really be happy about it?

Yeah, he should.

Even though Grian hates the bastard's face very badly and wants to punch it when he has the chance, it's still a horrible feeling if that stupid 'Blessing' wasn't removed earlier.

He is met with radio silence apart from Jellie's muffled meowing from outside, standing still whilst waiting for them to provide their typical snide remarks. Once his patience is running short, he scrunches his nose and clicks his tongue before continuing to do his morning routine. He picks up a tie by the sink and uses it to keep the long hair back with a loose ponytail.

Grabbing the faucet lever, Grian turns on the water and brings both of his hands to it in a bowl position, filling them with liquid before splashing it to his face and washing it. He repeats the action a few times after rubbing his visage with soap to rinse them, tapping ahead of him blindly to turn the faucet off. Using the same hand, he sightlessly grabs the towel from his right and wipes softly to eventually dry it. He removes the cloth off his face, opening his now dry—

Wԋყ ԃιԃ ყσυ ʅҽαʋҽ ɱҽ ϝσɾ BιɠB, Gɾιαɳ?

Spotting the familiar brunette from his blurry vision, he snaps his head towards in front of him, only to see Scar's grimace face filled with nothing but sadness.

"S-Scar, I'm sor—" Grian winces with wide eyes, only to see the man repeating his movements and realises that it's just his reflection.

Whilst growling, he can vividly hear their overlapping laughter whirling all around him as he can do nothing but helplessly listen to their mocking glee. As he stares at the image in the mirror, he spots the visuals changing from the scarred man's bleeding form as he tried to defend himself from Grian's fists, the brunette's frowning visage once he was left all alone after Mumbo was recruited for the Southlands, to Scar's wide-eyed and gaping expression of betrayal when he spotted Grian happily hanging out with BigB in secret.

The air won't enter his chest no matter how much he gasps, feeling his heart constricts more and more as the images flash more and more of his past soulmate's different expressions that are mainly negative all because of h—

A loud smash fills the freezing and stifling air as he can hear something delicate shattering, registering just now that the mirror in front of him is now falling towards the sink into numerous pieces, along with his bleeding fist on the wall where the glass was supposed to be. He huffs and puffs for a few times until he can finally breathe properly again.

He broke Scar's mirror. Well, he has to replace this too, he guesses. He already broke the handheld one yesterday, so that's two broken mirrors in one week. He brings the hand in front of him and stares numbly at it, spotting the crimson liquid dropping towards the counter.

There’s still so many things he needs to do for the day. First, he really needs to figure out how he can reverse the effects of bringing the Entity to life a couple of months back. He also needs to find more glass panes and continue his lie about using his magic to strengthen them, making his floating rocks ‘levitate’ using those instead of actually using his current haywire powers to make them hover on their own.

Oh, no. How can he explain the Rift situation and the whole crossover thing to X?

Wincing at the sudden sharp pain, he snaps his attention back to his hand. Oh.

He should really stop the bleeding.

But…

Does it matter if he's hurt?

Grian can't feel anything from the potions, anyway.

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

Closing the door behind Scar, he approaches his former soulmate with quiet steps, snickering quietly as he stands behind him.

"Well, hello there!" Scar tilts his head to Grian's side with a cheeky smile.

The current brunet jumps violently and squeals in high pitch from surprise, whipping his head back to face Scar, who steps back while chuckling in amusement.

"Scar! Don't ever do that again." Grian places a hand to his chest. "You scared the living life out of me." He groans and buries his face into his palms in disappointment.

"You should've seen the look on your face!" Scar comments with a high-pitched voice before sighing in relief. "Anyway, do you like to draw?"

Scar places both of his hands behind him and swings his body left to right, waiting for Grian to come out of his hand cocoon thing to answer his question.

"I do, but… Sorr- I'm- I’m not really good at it." Grian moves up from his hands as he replies. "Plus…" He murmurs something under his breath that Scar can't properly hear.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it." Scar places a hand behind his ear and leans that side closer to the said Hermit.

"I didn't say anything." Grian denies with a raised brow.

"Oh. Okay." Scar shrugs. "Anyway, you don't need to be good at art to like it. It's not like you'll be very good at building immediately. Don't you agree?" He comments solemnly.

"You're right." Grian huffs and smiles a little. "What brings you to ask that, by the way?"

"Oh! I want to see you draw something. Anything you want." Scar beams and bounces his heels repeatedly.

"Why?" Grian raises a brow.

"I'm done building the entrance of my castle and I've got nothing better to do, so." Scar shrugs nonchalantly.

"Basically, you've come here to pester me." Grian retorts in an apathetic tone.

"Pester is such a strong word! Call it hanging out instead." Scar scoffs in disbelief as he crosses his arms. "And besides, that's your job. Not mine, mister."

"Fine." Grian rolls his eyes. "I don't have paper, though. We have to get them in your base if you have some."

"Oh! I have lots of them." Scar grins ear to ear as he turns and runs to the warped wooden door, opening it. "Now that my storage system is organized, I'll be able to find them in three seconds."

Once he leaves the witch hut, he turns around and furrows his brows, peaking back inside to see his feathered friend still standing in the middle of his interior.

"Dude? Are you coming?" Scar questions.

"Y-Yeah!" Grian perks up. "I'm coming. I'm coming." He comments while grabbing the folded safety vest and running towards Scar's direction.

Before walking away from the door, Scar thinks he saw something small and shiny, kind of like an empty glass bottle on the floor where Grian was supposed to be. With a shrug, he ignores that thought.

It's probably just his imagination.

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

Ripping off a page of Scar's sketchbook, he brings it in front of Grian's face, showcasing the sketch of a landscape he made just a few seconds ago.

"Ta-da! What do you think?" Scar smirks in confidence.

"I literally can't see anything, dude." Grian replies nonchalantly. "The paper is too close to my face."

"Oops." Scar chuckles while distancing the object. "How's that?"

Grian stops for a while once he focuses his attention towards the drawing, jaw dropping as his azure eyes blow wide in surprise.

"Whoa. That's amazing, Scar!" Grian states as his mouth continues to gape in awe. "It looks just like your terraform projects!" He faces Scar with a gleeful smile, eyes shining like the bright sky.

Why does it feel like it's been so long since he last saw that expression?

"Thanks." Scar feels his cheeks warming up while he averts his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. "Is that flattery or the truth?"

"What are you talking about?" Grian frowns. "If your works will be auctioned, I bet a couple of hundred trillion pounds aren't enough to sell them."

The blush on the terraformer's face becomes more vivid, spreading towards his pointy ears.

"Grian, stop! You're making me blush." Scar's lips won't stop quivering as he tries to stop the smile from forming, but he fails miserably. "Enough about me. What about yours?" He quickly folds the paper and buries it to his pocket, switching to a different subject nonchalantly.

The wholesome air suddenly switches into something grim, causing Scar to sweat as he sees Grian's enigmatic face. He furrows his brows and grimaces, attempting to place his hand hesitantly towards his fellow Hermit's shoulder to comfort him but stops halfway.

Is this a good idea?

"G-Grian?" Scar hesitates as he swallows the lump in his throat.

Without a word, Grian hands over a folded paper towards Scar's hand, expression still unreadable. He quietly accepts it and opens to see a sketch of what looks like a couple of rectangles and semicircles, furrowing his brows in confusion.

What is this?

Are those caves?

"It's a design for my storage system. It's supposed to resemble a garden filled with greenery and caves for my organized chest monster." Grian quietly explains.

Oh. So that's what those are.

At first, he thought the rectangles were doors or something.

With a huff, Scar covers his mouth that's forming a smile against his will, pressing his lips into a flat line to suppress his laugh but manages to release a chuckle.

"What the—?" Grian gapes in shock. "You're making fun of my drawing, aren't you?"

"N-No!" Scar's voice wavers from being a few seconds from exploding. "I'm- I'm j-just… appreciating the- the structure, th-that's all." He blows a raspberry and slaps a hand to his mouth.

"Tell me the truth!" Grian whines while shaking Scar by the shoulders. "I can take it!"

From behind, he can hear a meow and snaps his head without hesitation to see Jellie slowly walking towards their direction.

His savior!

"I- I was just th-thinking that- that this artwork is… worth s-so much, th-that it n-needs to be p-preserved in a… m-museum. Isn't that right, Jellie?" He stammers and trembles uncontrollably as he averts his gaze towards his cat, straining a smile while waiting for her reaction.

When Jellie arrives in front of them, the two Hermits observe her and stop all movement, but the cat herself does nothing to recognize the question and moves along, minding her own business.

"Even Jellie doesn't care!" Grian yells to Scar's face.

"That’s not- Jellie, wait!" Scar exclaims as he tries to reach her.

"Just admit it already!"

"Agree with what?" Scar faces a frowning Grian, wincing at how tall and intimidating he looks at the moment.

Man, why is Scar afraid of his own face? Does he look that scary whenever he's in a bad mood?

"That my drawing looks like a toddler's doodle."

"I wouldn't go that far, now." Scar strains a smile. "I think it looks more like drawing with your non-dominant hand, you know?" He tries to ease the distressed Hermit with a positive remark.

"Did you just say it's like a chicken scratch?" Grian cries as he tightens his hold on Scar's shoulders.

"I never said that!" Scar shrieks.

When will this argument ever end?

Scar never should've suggested drawing with him and said something else instead!

Chapter Text

"Grian, I'm bored!" Scar whines as he glides down on the grass with a thud.

With a snap of his fingers, Scar uses his magic to instantly keep his elytra into his Inventory Bag, disappearing from his aching but otherwise tolerable back, before casually skipping towards the avian current vex's direction, who's currently digging his head into one of his chests.

"I- I'm busy, Scar." Grian refuses without looking up from whatever it is he is doing. "Play with someone else."

Why does Grian sound more pissed than he hopefully is when saying that in Scar's voice? Is his tone actually that harsh but unable to express it with how light his voice is? Or is Scar simply overthinking things again?

Probably the latter.

"Come on." Scar crosses his arms with a frown. "You know that I can't. Nobody knows about our situation, so we had to act like each other in front of everyone else." He sighs in disappointment. "As much of a great actor I am, I'm starting to get sick of it." He twirls around the chest monster while spreading his arms wide, imitating an airplane. "I want to spread my wings and have fun! You know? Not literally, of course since I’ve already established that I can’t summon them."

Once he receives no reply or reaction from his friend, he purses his lips into a flat line and grumbles while marching to Grian's side, only to see the inside of the chest being in shambles, to say the least.

"Wow, that is a mess." Scar laughs silently. "And I thought my Scar-sized chest monster was disorganized."

Grian turns his head to face Scar, stares for a moment before releasing a heavy sigh, closing the chest without looking away.

"What do you want to do today?" Grian inquires as he removes the orange vest, hanging it over his arm.

"Yes!" Scar raises a fist in victory. "Well, I just got this amazing idea when I saw you a few seconds ago." He claps his hands together while smiling gleefully. "I was wondering what peculiar or interesting things we can find in each other's base and showcase it. Whoever wins can use it however he wants!"

Placing his hand under his chin, Grian hums in thought as he moves his gaze around his area.

"That's a terrible…" Grian stops himself with a vigorous shake of his head. "You know what? Why not?" He stretches his lips into a fond smile while putting both hands into his pockets.

Ї̷̼͐̉'̵͎̓͗ѫ̶̫̗̓̓ ̶̲͉̔$̷̩͆č̷̨̱а̵̧̧̛́я̴͖̪͌ё̴̟̟̆̔д̵̲̍͌.̷̢̑.̷͇͙͊.̴̟̓

The vex?

Don’t worry, guys.

It’s just Grian. He won’t hurt you.

"Yeah!" Scar grins ear to ear.

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

The signature crooked smile won't leave Scar's face when he finds an interesting tech in one of Grian's clutter, chuckling to himself for a job well done before he materializes his pair of elytra, stretching them to their full wingspan and boosting himself in the air with rockets to get out of there. He looks at the thing with a raised brow, wondering why it was inside one of the rocks that serves as the pillars of his best friend's mega base.

Especially when it's all covered with cobwebs and dust, an indication that no one has stepped foot in that area for a very long time. He rubs his free hand towards the surface of the tech, dusting off the dirt and cobwebs to make it at least presentable later. The rays of the sun makes him squint his eyes on the way to the exit, feeling his energy heightening from excitement.

Once he leaves through the entrance, he can finally spot the familiar path made of floating rocks and continues to head towards Scarland. It's a bit sad, to say the least, that he's partly not the one who gets to bring his theme park to life from its blueprint state due to their situation, but at least he can already see it built in front of him instead of staying as a sketch on a paper (at least he can still build it in the middle of the night while everyone’s asleep). He looks around in awe of the amazing details Grian has put into some of the buildings before landing towards the statue.

From the corner of his eye, he notices a familiar orange vest approaching his direction to see Grian walking while waving a hand over his head. While the other one holds a shopping bag.

Why?

He has no idea whatsoever.

"Well, hello there." Scar greets with a smirk.

"Scar! Sorry I'm late." Grian stops in front of Scar as he huffs and puffs, out of breath. "It took me so long to find anything that matches the criteria, but now I can." He quirks a smirk while bringing the bag in front of him.

Oh, that's the purpose.

He's hoping that he did something like that instead of awkwardly hiding it inside his clothes.

"So…" Scar drawls as he raises his brows repeatedly. "Who's first?"

"Hm." Grian hums with a hand on his chin. "I don't know. How about you go first?" He casually suggests.

"Why don't you go first?" Scar hangs his arm over Grian's shoulder, forcing his friend to crouch this time instead of standing on his tiptoes. "I wanna know what you find in my base."

"Fine." Grian rolls his eyes with a fond smile.

Grian opens the bag and digs one hand into it, pulling out the item to reveal it into the world. In his grasp is none other than a colorful fedora.

"Oh, my gosh." Scar gasps in disbelief. "How- What- Where did you find this?" He chuckles and takes the hat after Grian hands it to him, staring at it with wide eyes before placing it on his head. "I've been looking for this ever since the Emperors left! I can't believe you found it."

"After checking every chest in Scarland, I found this bad boy mixed with Baby Yoda ears inside the Razor Crest build for some reason." Grian explains as he points towards the general direction where said assault ship is located.

"Thank you so much!" Scar fidgets with the feather. "Anyway, you're gonna love what I found in your place." He beams as he removes the hat and places it on top of Grian's head instead. "Well, aren't you a handsome guy?" He smirks.

"Scar, focus." Grian's voice quivers from holding back a laugh.

"Oh, right." Scar pulls the collar of his sweater and grabs the tech out, showcasing it to Grian as he brings it in front of him. "There it is! Ta-da!" He shakes the object repeatedly. "This thing looks so cool, so I just had to bring this out from one of your rocks. What do you think this is?" He raises a brow as he muses.

Scar observes the avian current vex for a while, waiting to see his reaction or hear his reply, only to see Grian standing still as a pole. When the latter doesn’t do anything, the former wrinkles his brows in concern. He looks down at the thing on his hands, guessing from its shape that it’s also probably a headgear, so he places it on his head, with the circles covering his pointy ears.

Huh, they’re surprisingly comfortable to wear, to be honest.

“How do I look?” Scar stretches his lips into a smirk, hopefully making his friend react instead of keeping quiet.

"It…" Grian stops and stays quiet for a moment. "It's great." He compliments and stretches his lips into a smile.

"Thanks, dude!" Scar beams. "We should totally wear these for the whole day. Oh! We can also show them to every Hermit! It's such a waste not to!"

"But—"

"No butts!" Scar presses a finger towards Grian's lips. "It's a rare chance for us to wear these after being covered in dust for who knows how long." He convinces with firm eye contact. "Why don't we use these instead of letting them rot without serving their purposes?" He shrugs as he makes his point.

"Y-Yeah. It's not like- Yeah. We shall." Grian agrees while rubbing the back of his neck.

"You're the best!" Scar cheers as he leaps and wraps his arms around Grian's neck.

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

The sun sets over the horizon as the blue sky changes into its orange hue, apart from the whistling of fired rockets, the surrounding area is eerily quiet especially between Scar and Grian as they land in front of the latter's base.

"Grian, are you okay? You're awfully quiet during the whole trip around Hermitcraft." Scar attempts to break the silence as he fidgets with his fringe.

No response.

Hmm…

With the darkness gradually enveloping the entire place, the shadow covering his fellow Hermit's visage prevents him from seeing his reaction.

"Hello? Yoo-hoo? Is anyone there?" Scar calls while casually waving a hand in front of the current vex's face.

Still nothing.

All of a sudden, everything is engulfed with brightness and Scar winces, squinting his eyes in reflex as he realizes that the nighttime has disappeared and has been switched with daytime in a matter of seconds.

Huh, Bdubs must be using his magic, then.

Now that he can finally see properly, he moves his attention back to his friend and presses his lips into a flat line, grimacing to see Grian staring widely into his direction like a deer in the headlights, frozen in fear.

“Grian? Please, answer me.” Scar pleads as he hovers his hand in front of him, hesitating if he touches the builder, he might make it worse.

“What do you want me to do?” Grian finally speaks for the first time, but his voice wavers and so little, he sounds like he’s enduring something very painful that no one can comprehend.

“Wh-What do you mean?” Scar hesitates.

“Just tell me what to do already!” Grian snaps while stomping his foot on the ground and clenches his teeth, huffing and puffing vigorously.

“Grian? You’re scaring me.”

Scar's limbs begin to tremble, making both of his legs feel like lead as his fellow Hermit slowly marches towards his way, scowling with narrowed eyes filled with darkness and unknown hatred, making him step back in reflex.

What is going on?

"It's always 'do this' and 'do that' like you're the only person in the world. Well, guess what?" Grian rambles and throws his hands in random directions. "You're not the only one who has a freaking life, Sam!"

"What?" Scar mutters in confusion.

Who is that again?

"You like to play the victim to make everyone do whatever you want, but when someone doesn't want to, you quickly switch to your true nature and point your knife at me." Grian curls his hand towards his chest, wrinkling the azure blazer. "Do you really want to make me suffer so much? Is making my life difficult that fun for you?" His voice cracks as he whimpers.

Is Grian mistaking him for someone else?

"I did everything you wanted!" Grian cries. "I did those stupid jokes that weren't even funny, I ate the plastic after you lodged it into my mouth, killed so many people on your orders, and- and…" He stops when he gasps, most probably choking from his own words.

Scar can only clench the hem of his crimson sweater and bite the back of his cheeks as he listens quietly, unable to do anything to ease the immeasurable pain his friend has probably endured for who knows how long.

"...I even wore that thing and pretended to be Taurtis after you almost killed him." He finishes with a sniffle while gazing on the top of Scar's head, flopping onto the grass before breaking down into a sob.

Not just from the Watchers, Grian has survived all sorts of suffering he experienced throughout his lifetime. After healing from one trauma, another ordeal appears to torture him, forcing him to do many things he doesn't want to do.

ɖօռ'ȶ աօʀʀʏ, ֆƈǟʀ. աɛ աօռ'ȶ ʟɛȶ ʏօʊ ɛӼքɛʀɨɛռƈɛ ȶɦɛ ֆǟʍɛ ȶɦɨռɢ ȶɦɛ աǟȶƈɦɛʀֆ ɖɨɖ ȶօ ʏօʊʀ ʄʀɨɛռɖ.

He bites his lower lip and stares at Grian's vulnerable form.

Thanks, vexes.

"Why are good people always forced to choose to do bad things?" Scar mumbles to himself with furrowed brows, preventing Grian from hearing it.

"Pearl, Mumbo, A…" Grian whimpers, the last one being inaudible.

“What was the last—”

His heart skips a beat all of a sudden, ignoring the pain as he digs his hand into his pocket and fishes out Grian's comm.

"I'll call Pearl." Scar informs with an indifferent tone while searching for said Hermit's contact, typing a short message before pocketing the device with a frown.

They just want to freely do whatever they want like everyone else, but their circumstances prevent them from doing so. The worst part is that the majority, if not, all of them are negative reasons that might affect them permanently in the future.

It's so unfair.

Chapter Text

The comm in Scar’s pocket produces two quick vibrations, indicating that the device detects another device entering the world. His hand twitches from beside him, stopping halfway as it moves towards his pocket. He very much likes to check who among the Hermits who went off-world until a few seconds ago and greet them, but he and Pearl are still trying to calm a panicking Grian, so he stops himself and focuses on his best friend in front of him.

“I want Mumbo!” Grian heaves his breath as he clutches his current chocolate locks.

Ї̶̪̇ ̵̗̕н̶̛̹ѳ̵̡̂p̸͕̆ё̶̝̚ ̵̪̿Ѫ̶̠͝ц̸̭͝ѫ̷͙͐б̵̘͒ѳ̶̙͑'̷̞͌$̶̨̔ ̵̺̐ѳ̴̹̀к̸̢̀а̵̢͠ч̸̣̉.̵͕͘.̶̛͈.̵͖̂

Not now, guys.

No matter how many times Scar sees this scenario, he can never get used to watching his own face crying like a kicked animal who’s longing for someone to save it. His chest skips a beat from the sickening nostalgia, gripping the hem of the red sweater like a lifeline as he clenches his teeth from his pressed lips.

“Griba, you gotta breathe.” Pearl hovers her hands ahead of her, trying to approach the quivering Hermit.

“Don’t touch me!” Grian snaps as his glassy eyes continue to flicker between calming blue and glowing vibrant purple, trembling as he shrinks further towards the pristine white wall of his entrance.

Д̵̛͚ѳ̷̪̊п̵͙̿’̴̱͋т̵̧̾ ̵̗̆н̴̦͘ц̷͖́я̶̖̋т̵̹͝ ̸̺̐ѫ̷̡̕ё̴̖̿,̴̤͐ ̷̪͐p̸͍̈́г̸̩͘ё̵͍͘а̵̳͗$̴̫̂ё̷̙́!̸̢͆

Again?

Scar takes a deep breath in, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it through his mouth, repeating it a few times until he can sense his nerves starting to calm down.

“Can you at least take a deep breath for us, G-man?” Scar softly requests with a smile as he squats to be eye level with Grian’s fragile form, hoping that his gesture will get the latter to relax even for at least a bit.

“No! I need Mumbo!” Grian furiously shakes his head with his eyes shut. “Please, Mumbo I miss you I want you to be safe here Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo!” He chants the absent Hermit’s name over and over like a broken record.

Ї̷̹̀ ̸̦̑н̷͓̈ѳ̸̻͝p̶̧̚ё̵̨̇ ̷̪͋т̸̢̐н̶͉̅ё̷̰́ч̵͖͘ ̵̧̀д̵̜͑ї̷̙͌д̶͇̔п̸̟̐'̵͙̆т̴̣͆ ̸̠͊т̷̭̄ӑ̵̰к̶͖̿ё̷͕͐ ̶̬̅н̷̚ͅї̸̗͒ѫ̵̢̓,̷͉̂ ̴̭̉т̵̘͊ѳ̴̞̍ѳ̷͓̓.̸̻͆

“You’re having a panic attack, mate. We’re here for you, okay? Can you breathe slowly, Griba?” Pearl soothes as she keeps her distance. “Do you want me to count with you or—?”

“I- I can’t, Pearl.” Grian wavers and whips his head up to face Pearl as his eyes begin to tear up. “I- I- It hurts, I c-can’t- I’m dying…” He gasps as his shaking hand clutches the green robe around his heaving chest.

“Scar?” A familiar British voice calls quietly from behind, making Scar jump violently with a yelp as he spins to see a one mustached man fidgeting his crimson tie.

“Mumbo?” Scar wrinkles his brows in disbelief.

Ѫ̸̟̀ц̷̮̒ѫ̵̯̈́б̴̡͂ѳ̵̫͝?̵̡͑

“G-Grian? I- Is Scar okay? He—” Mumbo stammers as something blurry passes by in a blink, cutting the raven-haired man as everyone sees Grian jumping and latching onto the former like a lifetime while wailing his heart out. “S-Scar? What’s- Are- Are you okay? G-Grian, w-what’s g-going on?” He exclaims in surprise and stumbles before properly planting his feet onto the ground to balance themselves, facing Scar’s direction with wide and pleading eyes.

“It’s gonna be a long story, but basically Grian and I switched bodies during the start of the season. And he’s currently having a panic attack.” Scar averts his gaze as he rubs the back of his head awkwardly.

“Oh, o-okay.” Mumbo affirms as he nods hesitantly. “I’m here, mate. It’s- Y-You’re okay. C-Can you breathe for me?” He rubs soothing circles around Grian’s quivering back as he requests.

“You’re okay… You’re okay!” Grian crumples the suit further and nods his head repeatedly as his voice trembles in a quiet giggle, heaving breath starting to slow down into a calm and constant rhythm as he takes a few deep breaths.

Mumbo continues to comfort the crying Hermit as he caresses the latter’s messy hair, only Grian’s sniffles filling the chilly air before his and Pearl’s shoulders relax. As Scar stares at the solace scenery, his stomach twists into a knot and a lump clogs his throat as he forces not to express his grimace externally.

Why is it always Mumbo?

It has always been him and Grian for the past few death games but instead of becoming closer, their relationship starts to plummet into the ravine where he died in a certain desert filled with blood and betrayals as time passes. They’re literally soulmates during the recent game, for Jellie’s sake! But somehow the air between them had been so tense that they could cut it with a sword, despite hanging out together like nothing happened.

This reminds him further that no matter how hard he tries to befriend or please someone, his relationships with them will always conclude with hurt and disappointment as they always leave him to rot alone in the end.

It’s just like Scar’s village all over again!

A movement from his vision snaps him out of his thoughts, focusing his attention ahead as he sees Grian and Mumbo smiling comfortably to each other before leaving their embrace, patting their clothing to remove the dust as they stand.

“Thanks.” Grian rubs the back of his head as he mutters.

“N-No problem.” Mumbo plays with his mustache as he nervously chuckles.

Silence overcomes them once more when no one speaks, making the vibe as heavy as a stack of diamond blocks. Scar opens his mouth to break it, but no words are forming at the moment, so he closes it and internally sighs. 

Ш̴̮̚н̷̘̚ч̸͓̌ ̸̖̍д̵͔̋ї̸̨̈́д̷̛̦п̷̛͖’̴̪͆т̶̳̆ ̸̯̿ч̶̝͑ѳ̴̲̅ц̴̬̀ ̷̞̚č̵̲ѳ̸͔́ѫ̴̹̐ё̶͇̋ ̵̰͛$̴̤͂ѳ̵̳́ѳ̴̗͆п̷̣͌ё̸̬̎я̸̳̊?̷͎̒

Come on, guys! Really?

“Why didn’t you come sooner?” Grian whimpers with quivering tense shoulders as he furrows his brows.

“W-What?” Mumbo jolts violently and pales as he barely musters a whisper.

What?

Scar furrows his brows in surprise, snapping his head to Grian’s direction.

“I- I missed you so much. I kept wondering when you’ll come back, I can’t even sleep properly without worrying my butt over what might happen to you!” Grian rants and paces around the small area as he frantically throws his hands in the air.

“I—"

“They might—” Grian stops himself as he faces Mumbo with a jump and a grimace before shaking his head. “—just… Don’t ever leave again.”

“I- I’m so sorry.” Mumbo wavers, eyes glassy as his lips tremble. “It wasn’t- I was just- I didn’t mean—“ He bites his lower lip and curls his fingers on his suit around his chest while his breath hitches.

“Grian, y-you shouldn’t—” Pearl beckons with a placating hand.

“Pearl, not now.” Grian intercepts with a cold tone as he doesn’t take his eyes off Mumbo.

“Why don’t you think before you open your dang mouth, Grian?” Scar speaks up between his clenched teeth, body buzzing with magic starting to surface more than usual, trying to even his voice but turns into a dark tone as his nails dig through his palms.

Grian’s eyes widen with a violent flinch, “What do you mean by that?” He turns to Scar’s direction with a glare.

“You do realize that you’re not the only one who’s having a hard time, right? Mumbo can choose to leave or stay however he wants t—"

“S-Scar, it’s- I- I’m fine—” Mumbo sputters.

“Sorry, Mumbo.” Scar intercepts in a hurried tone. “But you need to say it to his face or he’s gonna keep pushing you around.” He glowers as he stares at Grian’s now flickering eyes.

Why does Scar’s chest hurt so much? This isn’t his battle to fight.

“I would never—! What’s wrong with me worrying about Mumbo, Scar? Are you saying that it’s a bad thing?” Grian sneers as his pupils constrict, tensing his shoulders up to his pointed ears and crouches like he’s about to flap his non-existent wings to pounce and attack.

Why won't Grian use the vex wings if he loves to fly so much, then?

Does he hate Scar that much?

In that case, he won't be using this stupid Watcher magic.

“Wha- Don’t you dare put those words in my mouth!” Scar gapes in disbelief.

He can’t stop.

“I know we all have stressful few months—"

“Pearl, I’m sorry, but I need to get this out of my chest.” Scar turns his head in Pearl’s direction as he cuts her off.

Б̷ё̴т̴я̸а̶ч̶ё̴я̷!̸

Shut up, gosh darn it!

“It’s not my fault Mr. Goodtime over here is so insensitive to his so-called friends!” Grian spats at the same time.

“Insensitive?” Scar whips his head to Grian as he scoffs. “Why don’t you look in the mirror, mister?” He points an accusatory finger as he shoots daggers. “I know that you’re pretty traumatized and stressed already with your past, doesn’t mean you get to disregard everyone’s feelings like that!” He stumps forward and pushes his finger towards Grian’s chest. “If you really are Mumbo’s best friend, you should at least try to be one!”

Grian is just like them.

The words just spill out of Scar’s mouth against his will, and he can’t stop them from flowing out of the deep depths of his dark self. He’s aware that he should stop or otherwise he’s going to say something he’s going to regret forever, but the clog in his throat and pain from the back of his eyes keep reminding him of them, with their mocking but sinister laughter and the need to hide his weakness. Because of them, he’s always afraid of freely exposing his vulnerabilities, even from his closest friends.

Because of them, Scar will never know the feeling of sweet liberation.

“I—" Grian’s eyes glow vibrant purple as he grits his teeth.

He knew it!

Clenching his teeth, Scar feels the burning energy lying dormant inside of him bubbling quickly towards the surface, narrowed eyes glowing cyan and red veins spreading around them as his vex wings materialize on his back, not noticing how a few eyes have already popped open on his arms from beneath the crimson sleeves, accompanied by a few different perspectives. The air thickens further with two opposing magic clashing and meshing with each other, as the two Hermits are waiting for the other to make a move.

Another burst of dense magic appears out of nowhere, fighting against the two as it tries to break them apart with its overwhelming force and aura, making Scar shudder.

“Would you guys calm down for one darn second?!” Pearl yells as her azure eyes glow as gold as the yellow moon, stands at the crack between Scar and Grian and pushes their faces away from each other swiftly as if they weigh like feathers.

Scar stumbles backwards before stopping as he regains his bearings, shoulders rising and falling frantically as he vigorously intakes the chilly air towards his lungs, puffing white smoke while he looks at Grian’s bewildered face and stares at his no longer glowing purple eyes but a calming blue like the clear sky.

Scar’s widened eyes stop glowing cyan and reverts to their usual leafy green, while the red veins retreat and disappear into nothing, “I- I gotta go.” He falters with an even tone while his shoulders slouch, quivering lips numb from how chilly he feels before frantically lifting off into the sky with his elytra and rockets.

$̸̞̟̓ć̶̹̉а̴̝̅̅я̴͓̳̊͘,̶̤͎͝ ̶͈̋́щ̷͓͑ӑ̶̨͚̚ї̷͜͝т̷͎͍͐̂!̸̥͙͌̊ ̵̼̕Ї̷̮̽'̴̙̖̄ѫ̶͔͐ ̸̧͘$̷̢̜͆̂ѳ̴͇͇̈́̄я̸͈̘͑̆я̶̜̱̓̾ч̷̢̗̑̚!̶͎̘͋̑

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

'Nitwit' had always been referred to as that by every individual in the village, his own parents and the villagers alike. He was aware that he had a real name— once, but he was never called that his whole life, so he had already forgotten it. As usual, his morning started with him waking up early to work in the stable, bathing the horses and feeding the livestock their respective food before cleaning the whole place.

Popping out of the entrance, he headed to the storage area while bringing the leftover hay, ignoring how the other village kids passed by as they ran and laughed, enjoying themselves. He flattened his lips, feeling the pain from the back of his eyes and a lump forming in his throat from the scenery he never once experienced. 

Like his nickname suggested, he's unable to complete tasks, unable to listen or understand what the others said, being too talkative, being ignored and called 'delusional' for talking nonsense about buildings and landscapes, a klutz for messing everything up, and rude for always interrupting the people who were talking.

Whenever 'Nitwit' opened his mouth, no one would pay any attention like he was air, pretending they never heard what this 'crazy brat' was saying. It was why he didn't have any friends to express his ideas to improve the village. If he did try it, all he received was harsh insults and a few bruises from being kicked or punched.

Try to never get hit by the stomach.

Once he turned the corner of the wooden building, he noticed a zombie moaning by the haystack, turning its attention the second he arrived. He dropped the said hay as his body was frozen in place, unable to move when the mob slowly but surely headed to his direction, all ready to bite his flesh off. His eyes darted left to right, finding what object he could turn into a weapon.

Spotting the rake lying on the ground, he didn't hesitate to run towards it and grab it by its wooden handle, lunging to the zombie that's a few inches behind him. He turned pale as he missed the head and hitting air instead, seeing the mob opening its mouth and biting his outstretched arm. He screamed in pain while his other hand had a chance to thrust the weapon towards its temple, loosening its jaws from his appendage once and for all as it fell limp on the floor before turning to ashes.

He huffed and puffed with ragged breath as he wondered how it survived here in the middle of the day. Looking around the area, he noticed the spot where the zombie was to see that it had a shade to hide.

That made sense.

Wincing in pain, he brought his injured arm in front of him to stare at the bite mark. He should disinfect this while he could before it might infect him. If he left this injury, he might turn into a zombie. With that in mind, he headed to the exit and closed the fence behind him. He wobbled left to right as he walked the street, feeling slow and heavy while the scenery ahead of him started to blur.

'Nitwit' could barely register voices from how muffled his surrounding area was, paying them no mind as he headed to his house, staggering through his chests to grab himself a few bandages and a potion bottle with barely any liquid left in it. Without a moment to waste, he began to pour what's left on his arm, gritting his teeth forcefully to suppress the scream from coming out.

Even if he only had this one potion of regeneration, it helped him a lot after all these years to heal any major wounds enough that it wouldn't be lethal like he had now. 

If it weren't for that traveler who accidentally dropped this, he would've died a long time ago.

Being alone had a lot of disadvantages but due to this, he learned many things—including first-aid, considering how frequently he exposed himself to danger and how he never had any prior knowledge on how to protect himself, leading him with a few scars.

The burns from creeper explosions were the worst kind.

Unfortunately with how often his encounters were with mobs, it was getting harder to differentiate between hearing them from a safe distance or actually having them by his doorstep, causing him to react slower than he used to.

Squinting at the mess, he could barely register the bandaged arm from how disorienting his vision was. That should do the trick, right? A loud thud could be heard, making him jump violently and whip his attention to his entrance to see someone entering his house.

What in the world?

The man with a blue complexion growled as they marched towards his direction, hitting him by his nape without warning before everything abruptly turned to black.

.

.

.

Registering a couple of muffled voices overlapping each other, 'Nitwit' groggily opened his eyes and weakly moved his gaze left to right, not quite there yet until he spotted pillagers standing before him, jumping fully awake. He winced from the piercing pain on his arm, huffing and puffing once it eased before being interrupted when someone pulled his hair.

He gritted his teeth while staring at the blue-skinned invader, sucking it up as they said something he couldn't quite hear properly.

From the corner of his eye, he could spot movements behind him, trying to turn back despite the strong grip and thankfully, the pillager did him a favor when he eased their hold and let him see what was happening. He gasped at the houses being burned down while the other invaders grabbed the villagers out of their homes, pulling and gathering them in one place to where he was. Luckily, his head was set free for some reason, caressing his scalp with his uninjured arm.

Tuning in at the conversation, he could barely understand that the man was reminding their comrades about not leaving one resource behind, making sure to steal every single valuable his village owned or something along the line. Despite the devastating news, he didn't really feel anything. He was fully aware that he should be sad for his village to be burned to the ground, but there was nothing.

"If you want to be spared…" The pillager announced with a loud voice, making 'Nitwit' move his attention to them. "...decide which one of you sheep you should sacrifice to the wolves!"

Without hesitation, the villagers screamed at various degrees their answers, causing him to turn around to see who they chose. The color drained from his face, staring wide and speechless as he saw every single person pointing their finger towards him, feeling his heart skip a beat from the harsh reality he was in.

Why was he surprised?

It should have been obvious from the start that all of them were going to use him to save their own skin. Still, the throbbing sensation in his chest hurt regardless. Staring numbly at the situation unfolding before him, he could register everyone smiling as they celebrated how they could be saved and finally get rid of him.

What was he expecting from this place?

He already knew that it was going to end this way, as someone who was meant to be alone for the rest of his godforsaken life. Before he realized, the tears flowed out of his wide eyes, blurring his surroundings as he could register from someone grabbing him by his hair that he was being pulled away from the pack, bringing him home with them as one of their spoils.

When will this suffering ever end?

"Scar?"

He yelps loudly, making him jolt violently as he snaps his attention to the person in front of him, looking at his direction with soft and kind eyes, unlike the glower and disgusted ones he was so accustomed to from his old village all those years ago.

"Are you okay? You suddenly spaced out on me." Cub furrowed his brows in concern.

Is he?

Can he really say he's okay after all the terrible things they did to him?

All his life, Scar just wanted to have someone who would look at his direction and say he's not useless.

A burden.

A nitwit.

"I- I'm fine." Scar weakly replies as stretches his lips into a strained smile.

He's telling the truth this time. Because of Cub, he probably never would have escaped the battlefield. Because of him, he's got to meet all these good-hearted people and get to be in this amazing community where he can be himself, and no one will say it's not enough.

For some reason, he suddenly feels tired. Whether from the argument earlier or that memory resurfacing from his garbage of a village, he's not sure.

But there's one thing he's certain of, and that is for being glad to be here.

"A-Are you sure? The eye on your forehead says otherwise." Cub insists.

What eye?

Scar stops for a moment when something feels off, focusing his attention on Cub's face and a red Xisuma with horns looking in the mirror as he wears a shirt over his armor, wondering what it might be making him think that way.

Wait, what was the last part?

In a rush, he quickly digs for his comm and stares at his reflection, only to see an eye innocently blinking on his forehead, screaming on top of his lungs in surprise while he accidentally drops his device on the floor.

"What in the world? Again?" Scar exclaims in a high-pitched voice.

Ї̴̮̙͙̔'̶̖̈͗̈́ѫ̷̖̇ ̷͇͙̒$̸̧̫̠͌̽̈́͘͜ѳ̵̮̥͈̽̕ͅя̶̡̛̳̻̐я̷̡͎̤̏̀̑ч̷̢̻̝̣͂̕

What?

Ї̴̮̙͙̔'̶̖̈͗̈́ѫ̷̖̇ ̷͇͙̒$̸̧̫̠͌̽̈́͘͜ѳ̵̮̥͈̽̕ͅя̶̡̛̳̻̐я̷̡͎̤̏̀̑ч̷̢̻̝̣͂̕ Ї̴̮̙͙̔'̶̖̈͗̈́ѫ̷̖̇ ̷͇͙̒$̸̧̫̠͌̽̈́͘͜ѳ̵̮̥͈̽̕ͅя̶̡̛̳̻̐я̷̡͎̤̏̀̑ч̷̢̻̝̣͂̕ Ї̴̗͙͉̎͆'̸̝̅͊̀ѫ̵̢̧̡̠̬̭͙̽͋ ̵̢̰̭͉̊͆̉̏̚ͅ$̷̲̏̋́̂́͠ѳ̷̯͚̓́̓̀̈́̚я̴̺̙̘̅͘я̶̡̡̧̜̱̩̙͑́̇̈̈́͝ч̸̩͖̞̇̑̐͘

Uh, oh. It's that weird voice again!

All of a sudden, the incomprehensible voice shrieks on his ears, making him cover them in reflex as he clenches his teeth from the overwhelming sharp pain. He pushes his fingers further to muffle the noise, which is a fruitless effort considering it's only happening in his mind.

Ї̶̣͙̜̊̍͒̓͌̈́'̸̧̰̻̝͎̤͂̎̿̚ѫ̶͍̬̳̈͒ ̵̘̮̇̏̉͝$̴͗̀͂͜ѳ̴̮̬̮̔͋̽̐я̴̡͇̘̩̝̇я̸̙͉̠̤̌ч̸̹͊̚ ̷̡̢̼̙̗̓̆̉͜Ї̷̱̪̑̌̈'̷̨͓̰̣͍̳̓̔̎ѫ̵̫̫̺͎̯̅ ̵̜̥̐$̶͍̻̔͛̇̓̚ѳ̴̣̲̱͉͌̄͝я̷̢̺̠̰̫̓̑̀̿͋я̷̠̲̖̥͒͗ч̸̹͎͖͈͋̓͋͜ ̸̢̨̢̪͈̿͗̎̑̕͠Ї̸̤̤͛̊'̷̡̟͖̟̩̏̆̚ѫ̸̡̅̽̾̏ ̷̥̟̑́̐̃$̷̛̭͎̊̋͋͝ѳ̵̭̱̗̳̔̀̉͛я̸̥̳̝̙̌̈я̶̢͈̊̀͝ч̶͚̃ ̷̜̲̲̤̱̌̾̉̃͝Ї̷̪̬̻̈́̔̈́̂́'̸̫̼̝́̔̆̑͂͝ѫ̴̡̪̩͖̹͈̾̈́̈́̐̈́ ̷̢̼̟̼̲͍͑̈́́̎̋͘$̵̨̭̩̮̯͐̾͘ѳ̴̰̹͚̬͓̇̇̾̕̚͜͝я̷̢̹̐̌̓̎̕͜я̸̡̛̜̰̞̟͒ч̶̡͐ ̷͚̼̂̒̓͊̾͝Ї̸̢͈̞͂͂̽͋͜'̸̡̰̼̜͑̄̿͠ѫ̵̛̖̭̙͖̍̏͒͗̕ ̴͎̖̣̓̒͌̓̓$̶̡̯̞̖́̄͗͘͘͠ѳ̶̼͔͍͓̲̂̓̂ͅя̸̳͔͈͕̲̝͝я̷̟̰̉̅ч̵̻͕̯̘̓̀̎͘ͅ ̸̱̓̽̐̚$̴̈́͘͜а̸̠̰̬̬̭̲̃̏̋͝я̸̺͍̻̹̀̂̋͝ ̸̨̖̥̮͈̮͒ḟ̶̧̺̖͈̘͗̂ѳ̸̡̧͍͓̿͛̌͂͛̕я̵̖̃̂̏̏̅g̵͔̟̻͐̍͊ї̵̫̣̙̅̓̾̉͋ѵ̷̪̜̟͓̖̓͂͊̓ё̸̡̲͓̿͂̐̽̏ ̴̛̘̯̙̐̀̀͌͛ѫ̸͇̯̞̱͍̰̃ё̷̥̜͒͑͂͠ ̷̫͓͚̱̓̀̀̓̕Ї̷̻̖̟̘̄'̵̞͈͎̭̭̔̈̅͗͜ѫ̵̣͍̙̀̇ ̵̡̛̙̭͓̜̾͊̔̚ͅ$̴͖̪͊̿͂̈́̓̈ѳ̷̣͚͍̜͖͎̊͛̃я̶̡̹̃͆̄̿̿̿ͅя̵̢̞̝̦̀̚͘ч̶͇̥̝͍̓̍̉̅̄̒Ї̶̣̄̀͆̄'̷͓͉̫̫͉͒̅ѫ̴̡̹̼̄͋̈̍͝ ̶̨̮̬̟̤͌̑$̶̲̗̯̀̅ͅѳ̴̲̼̓я̶̟̍͗̾͝я̸͙̐̆̓ч̵̱͕͈̙͎̟̅̐ ̸̨̛͉͎̦͜ͅЇ̵̥̩͛'̶͕̜̣̝̭̣͆̂ѫ̴̡̦̫̟̋̓̒͂̋͜ ̸̢̛̛͆͐$̴̲̍̎̂͒̐ѳ̵͕̝̂̈́́̐͛ͅя̷̹͆̔͐͆͒͗я̵͕͆̾͌̽̆ч̸͉͚̫̬̒ ̶̙̙̄͋̕$̶̨̼̺̈̏̓͐͝c̴͉̰̬̋̾͝а̸̥̫͂̑͒͝я̶͉̪̞̌͐ ̶̞͆͐̀Ї̵͈̥̀'̶̧͖̀͠ѫ̶͎̣̣̣́͠ ̵̢̧̀̄̃̅̚$̶̠͈̥̳̖͆̇̒̑ͅѳ̴̻̽̔͗̓͝я̶̡̝̰̩̙̟̎̽̌я̶̙̖̬͔̬̀̚ч̸̗̌̈́́̈́͗̚ ̴̛͎̦̰̱̰̄̆̈́̀ͅЇ̶͇̀̎͝'̶͖̈́̓̇̚ѫ̸̻̼̇́͋ ̶̦͕͇̙̗̈́̅̉$̶̨̹̬̂̆͐͠ѳ̶̲̖̦̟͍͒̏я̸͚̐̏́я̵̨̛͖̺̺̲̹̽͋͝ч̸̟̄͗ ̶̬̞̚͘͝Ї̷͇̙̪̣͝'̵͔̾̽̔͗̓͝ѫ̵͈̯̹̈͗ ̶͙̪͉͓̣͓̄̋̆̓̕͘$̷̼̽ѳ̶̧̩̄̓̓я̴͎͈͙̂͊̏̊̒ͅя̴͚̬̑̔͋͗̀͘ч̵̛̩̰̟͕̟̐́ͅ ̴̥̩̩̔Ї̵̝͆̊̋͘'̶̨͇̤̞͔̫̏̋̇̈́͝͝ѫ̸͍͓̈̊ ̶̼̖͎͍̦̯̀̅̎̇$̷̡̘̣͖̘͓̅̈́ѳ̷͚̙̰͇̍̌͠я̶̰͓͍͙̾̀̄̾̋̚я̷̱̜̓̑̉͝͠ӵ̷̫̖́͐͘

What the heck is happening to him?

It never did something like this before, though.

It hurts!

As quickly as it came, the voice disappears, leaving him with a ringing noise from how eerily quiet everything is now, using this opportunity to ease his burning nerves and drumming chest as he huffs and puffs before sighing in relief.

"Scar!"

Scar flinches from the sudden sound, whipping his head to see Cub crouching towards his side before rubbing his back with soothing circles. Humming in satisfaction, he moves from his fetus position on the floor and sits on his back.

Hm?

Since when did that happen?

"Thanks, Cub. I'm okay now." Scar reassures with a weak smile, noticing too late that his old friend's face is the only thing he can see and nothing else.

"Are you sure? You looked like you were in excruciating pain earlier." Cub pursed his lips.

"It sure felt like it. But yeah, the weird voice suddenly stopped, so I'm fine."

"Is that voice usually this painful for you to hear?" Cub inquires as he plants a hand on Scar's shoulder.

"No." Scar shakes his head. "It usually sounds like how we hear vex voices, but foggy. It's really hard to understand what it says no matter how much I focus on it." He shares with a disappointed sigh.

"Hm." Cub places his free hand under his chin. "I've been looking into your issue ever since we discovered your situation with Grian, and I've found some interesting things." He discloses. "Remember the recent death game you guys had?"

"Y-Yeah." Scar replies quietly as he averts his gaze.

"Anyway!" Cub clears his throat. "The voices you've heard or those contradicting sensations you've told me before might be similar, if not the side effects of a soulbound."

"But, that's impossible. We were bound to our soulmates before, but we never experienced something like this. All of us only shared damage and health." Scar denies as he fidgets with his hands. "Plus, I didn't experience any of this when I was bound to Grian there."

"The magic of that world might be interfering with the bound you already have, considering that the mechanism over there belongs to them. It's not surprising for one magic to overwrite the other, especially if one of them is stronger."

"But Grian being my soulmate was a coincidence, though." Scar remarks.

"Is it?" Cub insists as he makes a firm eye contact.

Those two words are enough for Scar to keep quiet and think, the last thing he did ever since all of this ridiculousness has started. Without warning, the image of a familiar desert flashes before his eyes, making him jolt and gape in surprise. As if on cue, his heart clenches, grunting while enduring the pain.

Does Grian feel the same way?

If what Cub says is true, does this mean all those barely coherent voices and weird sensations were his partner's? Caressing his forehead with a hand, he comes to a realization.

The compulsive magic casting might not be Scar's doing, after all.

Chapter Text

Tick…

Tock…

In a blink of an eye, Scar sees that his surrounding area looks a lot like a hillside, gaping as he realizes last minute that he's not alone in this sudden yet expected and familiar relocation. He glances around who amongst them are included for this death game, counting himself there are fourteen of them.

Why does it feel like he missed something?

Backtracking at his progress, he counts every member who is forming a circle, smiling while he's at it that there's no new member who's forced into this dangerous mess like all of them. Plus, Ren isn't with them. Which means, he's most likely safe and sound back on Hermitcraft. Noticing something red from the corner of his eye, he moves his attention to it and sees Grian talking animatedly with Joel.

Wait, he can see his friend instead of his own face.

He brings his hands in front of him in a flash, gaping to see them scarred like they're supposed to be before releasing a breath he unknowingly holds. It's a bit faint today for some reason but now that he thinks about it, he can feel various sensations trickling throughout his limbs and not just from his back, a big grin forming on his face in an instant. He's never been so glad to feel chronic pain again.

Did switching worlds somehow brought their souls back to their original bodies? Or did the magic they have used for this death game's mechanics interfered with the connection again?

Tick…

Tock…

"What's your problem?" Bdubs protests with a frown.

"Problem?" Scar sputters incoherently with wide eyes from disbelief. "Those are evil clocks on your pants!" He complains in a high-pitched voice, pointing a hand towards the said red clock that's unlike the usual color.

"Evil clock?" Cleo wonders from behind Scar.

"Evil clocks?" Bdubs raises a brow in question. "No! You're the one- you started this whole thing, remember? You gave me clock and then… I kill." He informs calmly.

"Yeah, but you've turned a beautiful timepiece into an evil thing." Scar remarks in disappointment.

"'You gave me clock, I kill.' Jeez, Bdubs." Cleo gapes in disbelief. "How do I end up like this? This is- this is fine." She shakes her head and massages the bridge of her nose, while Bdubs laughs from the background.

Tick…

Tock…

"If you're the Bogeyman, you got- you gotta be honest—"

3

"—And on top of that, we cannot tell anybody—"

2

"—Hm? Are we in agreement?" Skizz firmly instructs as he makes eye contact with every Clocker.

"Yes." Scar nods.

1

"One second!" Skizz announces.

"Deal." Bdubs grins.

"Oh!" Scar drawls while bouncing on his heels in anticipation, waiting for the text to change on his comm screen.

You are…

Skizz makes incoherent sounds as he crosses his fingers with both hands, Bdubs' grin is getting wider as his face is stuck on his screen while Cleo moves her gaze between the three men in front of her.

NOT the Bogeyman.

Without hesitation, the four of them in the area release a sigh of relief.

"Whew. Close one." Bdubs comments with a smile that awfully looks unnatural and forced.

Why did he sound…?

Scar looks at Bdubs's direction, quietly observing his fellow Clocker's body language as he swallows the lump in his throat and curls his fingers into fists.

He has a bad feeling about this.

"Guys, guys…" Skizz moves forward while slouching and purses his lips.

"Yeah."

"I'm not the Bogeyman." Skizz smirks as he puts both hands on his hips confidently. "Actually, I've never been the Bogeyman. It's never happened, right?"

"Me neither. Me neither!" Cleo agrees while crossing her arms.

"Oh, good." Bdubs adds with an undertone.

Without warning, something pushes him off the hill with full force, causing him to gape at the uncontrollable situation as he stares at Bdubs's eyes emitting purple glow, an indication of the Boogey Curse.

"Oh!" Scar yelps as he hovers mid-air. "I knew you were the Bogeyman, Bdubs. I knew it the whole time!" He repeats urgently before falling to the shallow pond. "I knew it!"

Tick…

Tock…

- 1 hour

Tick…

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

Grian finally did it.

He was in the middle of casting the magic when he was teleported into another death game, but luckily he managed to keep his focus and not stop halfway. Unfortunately, based on how much huffing he had done for the past few minutes and how drowsy he had been ever since they were brought here, it took a lot out of him to say the least.

With how used he is to dealing with fatigue and sleep deprivation especially after building and nights being plagued with nightmares, he barely manages to get by in surviving the past two sessions, helping the Bad Boys gather resources and successfully getting a Boogey kill. Considering how his head feels like it weighs a ton after sitting up from his bed, and how everything seems to be multiplying and dancing at the same time, it's not surprising if he has finally reached his limit.

Staggering towards the llama that Timmy brought here one afternoon, he gathers every strength that's left in his body to hoist himself up with quivering arms, eventually riding the fluffy animal and instantly leans his head towards its soft neck, not being able to raise himself upright anymore as the energy has slipped from his fingers.

He fights his droopy eyelids from falling on his watch, rubbing them every now and then whilst waiting for his Bad Boys to arrive. From the usual circumstances, he never would've thought about asking anyone's assistance but since they're in the middle of a death game, he can't be choosy and hoping that his friends will protect him until he's fully energised.

Grumbling at the unexpected shaking, he slowly moves his gaze to where his position can only provide, spotting a certain brunette patting his shoulder.

What's happening?

Is it morning already?

The last few moments flashes before his eyes, snapping him awake momentarily and uses this chance to inform the Bad Boys about the plan for this session, apologising for not being able to do much and only becoming a burden to them. He can't quite catch every single word Joel and Timmy have said, but he has a general idea based on their soft smiles.

This reminds Grian that he has such good-hearted friends, he can just cry.

But they just have to ruin everything.

Watchers and their twisted entertainment, zapping him and his flock again and again from their home to kill their boredom.

Why do they keep doing this?

Won't they get sick of watching the same thing over and over and over and over and—

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

While floating in the azure sky for who knows how long with the Clockers, simply observing the intense events unfolding before them, Scar ends his conversation with Tango once the latter walks(?) away, waving his translucent hand above his head with a crooked smile to express his goodbye.

Well, that was unexpected to find some ghosts in the air.

In a blink of an eye, the obscuring mess that is Skynet unexpectedly disappears from sight as he senses a sudden rush, dropping onto the floor with a huge thud before groaning in pain. He looks around his surroundings, seeing colorful and enormous builds towering across the sky instead of smoking craters and debris of former bases.

He’s back?

He’s back!

Immediately lifting himself off the grass and pats his butt while wearing a cheeky smile, he quickly runs around the Shopping District to see the other members, increasing his speed once he spots a few Hermits sitting on the ground.

“Guys, you made it back!” Scar greets cheerfully.

“Scar! It’s so good to see you here. I was worried for a second when I couldn’t find you in the area.” Bdubs grins ear to ear and embraces the vex.

“I wasn’t.” Cleo huffs smugly.

“Bdubs, mom is being mean right now.” Scar pouts.

“Mom!” Bdubs scoffs and yells.

“Don’t call me that! I’m finally free from constantly saving your sorry butts.” Cleo complains as she crosses her arms. “Plus, I won’t hear the end of it if Joe finds out.” She murmurs under her breath while Scar and Bdubs quietly snicker.

“Hey, Cleo!” Pearl’s gleeful voice can be heard from behind.

Followed by footsteps and a few Hermits’ voices greeting in various ways, they all gather in one place as each of them express their relief and apologies alike, easily forgiving one another for being understanding of the dire situation they were all forced to deal with. Once it feels like Scar has talked to every single member, he notices something off.

“Wait, has anyone seen Grian?” Scar muses as he furrows his brows, moving his gaze from one individual to another in quick succession, looking at his friends’ faces over and over to make sure he doesn’t miss him.

The question makes everyone murmur to each other in confusion while turning around, making Scar’s hands go numb and cold from increasing worry.

Where is he?

Why is he the only one who didn’t come back?

This can’t be happening.

Scar didn’t even get to apologize properly!

He needs to tell Grian that he’s sorry for lashing out at him before they were transported to another death game. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the leeway to do it in that world since it took everything just to survive, especially during the later half when everyone was out for blood. It was why he had to act like nothing happened and continued to survive. Based on the avian’s constant glance during their time there, he must be feeling the same way.

If only he spared some time to simply talk with his friend privately, away from the main area to at least ensure themselves that no one would ambush them. Skizz had done it with his affirmation thing, why didn’t he do the same?

Now, Grian’s gone and all he can do here is kneel face down to the ground as he cries his heart out, ignoring his fellow Hermits’ distress while he curls his trembling hands, digging his nails to his palms as the tears continue to flow like a river.

He’s too powerless.

He’ll never see his partner again.

Ӑ̸̟͐͌̄̿ї̷̱͚̫̥̜̝͍͂п̴̟̑͗̔̈́͝ё̵̨̘̩͔̝͖͙̾͐̉̆̌̿̚,̸̜͘ ̴̣͍̗̙͈̯̼̒̈́щ̶̯͆͛н̸̠̥̺͆͐ͅё̶̢͚͍̝͎̀̀̆̎͒̆͠я̵̮͍͉͓̘͔̉́ё̶͈̏̓̕͝ ̴̻̀͂̅̌̍͝а̴̛͈͑̑̀̏я̶͚̓́̌͂ё̵̣͐͑̒̄ͅ ̵̛̳̩͕̮̭̖̜̕ч̷̢̲͇̇̏͂͛̑̚ͅѳ̷̯̺͖̋ͅц̷͔͓̯͈̿̎͝?̷͎̖̹̮̯͒͑̏

Huh?

̵̢̗͊͂̓̚͝Ї̶̛̞̾ ̸̘̳̻̗͕̼͙͐͒̎ѫ̴̟̞̅͆̇̚̚ї̵̳̺̣̲̿ͅ$̷̢̲̤͕̞̄̎$̸̧̪̤͊͑ё̶̢̪̗̮̱̗̂̇̉͐͊д̸̦̺̲̯̍͋̾͋̉̕ ̸͖̌̓̇̈̈͘ч̷͓͎̐͛̎ѳ̴̫̳͔͔̯̝́͂̈ц̵̛̥͖̟̮̱̺̓͆.̵̙̪͎͓̟̍̔̂͗͋͊̀͜

He thought this had been resolved already.

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

Tick…

Tock…

"Oh, that feels good." Martyn drawls as his hand shakes and momentarily drops his sword with a clatter, holding a tight grip of his blonde locks with the other.

Oh, no.

No no no no—

It's happening again.

All Grian can do is stare helplessly from beyond the grave as one of his closest friends just betrayed his own partner, clenching a hand on his translucent arm from the bitter sensation of familiarity.

He's too exhausted from constantly keeping his magical energy at bay, including spending a huge amount of power in the first session when he successfully returned him and Scar to their original bodies, barely keeping his ghostly body upright as he observes his surroundings.

As if on cue, the memory of Scar pointing his sword towards Grian's throat flashes right before his eyes, biting his lower lip from the harsh reminder that's currently mocking him. Well, not really but it sure feels like it.

"Time is delicious!" Martyn spreads his arms wide as he cackles, exposing his sharp teeth into the world while facing the Clocker's clock tower.

In a flash, a purple lightning approaches from the dark clouds, gasping in realisation whilst it travels downwards at high speed.

They're coming for him this time.

Not on his watch!

Gritting his teeth, Grian willfully summons what remains of his magic left as he strikes Martyn with his own lightning, barely a moment faster before the man has disappeared from this world and successfully sends him back to Empires, leaving the purple one to hit solid ground instead.

He drops to his knees once what remaining strength that remained has left his body, ignoring how harsh his breaths are and how his nose bleeds as he slams his palm towards the ground and spreads his magic like a web, attaching a thin string to each ghost before sending them all to their respective homes safe and sound, making it the last straw before his human ghostly form instantly shifts into his Watcher form.

With this body, or lack thereof, is turning concentration into a hassle, easily losing focus and floating to wherever his astral body is taking him. Without a physical vessel keeping him grounded, he allows fate to drive his basically nonexistent form as he numbly drifts away.

This… is probably bad.

But he feels so peaceful right now from how comforting the void's embrace is.

Wait, since when did he arrive—? Doesn't matter.

Sorry, Scar.

It turns out Grian isn't coming back anymore.

He didn't even get the chance to apologise to his best friend.

What's he doing again? It feels like he's in the middle of doing something very important, but he can't recall.

If he doesn't remember, it's probably not that significant.

Right?

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

From beyond the door, Scar can hear faint voices overlapping each other as the admins brainstorm ideas, figuring out how to locate Grian.

"If we do this, not only will they discover our location, we're literally risking every Hermit's lives!" He can vaguely hear Doc's voice yelling desperately in persuasion.

"I dare you say that again, jerkface! We're rescuing Grian and that's final." Tango's muffled voice refuses, accompanied by a loud thud that startles Scar, causing him to jolt.

The other Hermits are waiting by their respective seats while he paces around the room, contemplating whether he should join or not.

He should, shouldn’t he?

He’s fully aware that he’s not an admin, but he can at least share some ideas that might help them instead of waiting helplessly. It’s most probably his fault that the avian is still mad about their argument a few weeks back, that’s why he refused to go home. Biting his nails from the gradually rising anxiety, he raises his pace as the beat of his heart increases speed in every second, making his nerves set on ablaze even more.

Come on, come on.

Do something!

He’s supposed to be useful in these sorts of pressuring situations, right? He can easily create an artificial mountain like building Legos, and yet he can’t even figure out a way to find his best friend.

Dang it!

Scraping his already unkempt hair in irritation, a feeling he’s experiencing right now is awfully similar to an itchy part of someone's body that needs to be scratched, but he’s unable to do so just because it’s hard to reach. Including the boiling lava rising from inside of him, he can sense a rush of energy spreading through his veins, causing his vex wings to materialize against his will as the red vein marks spread from his glowing electric blue eyes.

“Scar, what’s wrong?” A voice softly inquires from behind, making Scar yelp in surprise and turns back to see Pearl staring at him with sad eyes.

“N-Nothing! I’m fine.” Scar hurriedly answers with a strained smile, furrowing his brows in confusion as to why the color on his fellow terraformer’s face has drained. “Wh-What? Is there something on my face?”

“S-Scar, are you—?” Pearl hesitates before pressing her lips into a flat line. “Th-There’s an- There’s an eye on- on your cheek.” She points to her right face for emphasis.

Hm?

As if on cue, he notices too late that he can see Pearl’s face and Scarland at the same time.

Not again!

He can already control Grian’s magic a long time ago, though. What gives?

Wait a minute.

He abruptly stops moving to sense his current condition and yep, his body hurts like heck. Looking down, he sees that he’s wearing his safety vest and his hands are scarred as usual. He digs through his pocket and takes out his comm, bringing it in front of his face to see his reflection having an eye right where the female Hermit has pointed out.

He’s… still connected with the builder.

But how?

A metaphorical light bulb flickers on top of his head in epiphany, one hand covering the eye on his cheek while hurriedly running towards the door, slamming it open before beelining towards the huge table where every admin is gathering.

“Guys! Guys, I've- I've got something that could help us find him.” Scar plants his hand to his bent knee as he catches his breath.

"Is that true, Scar?" Xisuma abruptly stands on his seat with tense shoulders, chair falling back behind him and makes a thud sound. "Do you mind if you show it to us?"

"Not at all." Scar shakes his head with a weak smile. "Remember when Grian and I mysteriously switched bodies?"

All of a sudden, everyone stands frozen with widened eyes and mouth agape to Scar's direction before snapping their attention to Xisuma, dumbfounded and confusion written all over their faces.

"I—" Xisuma stops himself before deeply sighing in defeat. "It wasn't meant to go publicly until Grian and Scar both provide their consent." He picks up the chair and brings it upright before sitting back down. "It's a long story that needs time, the one thing we can't afford to lose right now. I promise that once all of this is over, we're gonna have a long talk about this issue. Okay?" He finishes with a solemn tone.

The other admins look at each other before giving their affirmative replies and nods.

"What is this something that you found, Scar?" Cub inquires casually, nodding his head as a gesture to encourage Scar to share.

"Okay…" Scar mutters as he takes a deep breath, slowly removing his hand away from his face and takes in every Hermit's various reactions of surprise and shock. "I don't know how it happened, but I still have the connection with Grian even after returning to our original bodies. I think this will help us find him and bring him home." He firmly discloses.

"Can I trust you with that task, Scar?" Xisuma ponders while interlocking his fingers on top of the table.

"You can count on me!" Scar reassures as he puffs his chest and points a thumb towards it.

"Thank you." Xisuma gently acknowledges. "While the search continues, can anyone in this room raise their hands if you would like to—"

Scar leaves the room and closes the door with a click, Xisuma's words have been cut off the farther he is from the entrance, marching towards a quiet area where he can concentrate and focus on searching for the missing Hermit. As he can feel the raging beats of his heart, he slowly inhales and exhales, closing his eyes to search for the remaining foreign magical energy within him and follows its trail.

The track exits the world, persisting in blindly following it like a baby duck waddling behind its mother, drifting away from civilization as he crosses the ocean of stars until he reaches a certain planet that's been littered with craters and debris.

Why does this scenery look familiar?

Oh. Oh.

He found him.

Gasping violently at the discovery, the connection has been abruptly cut the second he loses his focus, only able to gape and stare at the bright sky for his powerlessness.

What should they do now?

How can he tell this terrible news to X?

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

The wooziness overtakes and the air escapes Grian’s lungs as the world automatically teleports him to another planet, jumping violently before wobbling left to right from the overwhelming lightheadedness, as his feet touch the familiar stone floor around the entrance of his cave.

He arrives right where his last spawn point is set like the previous death games, so that’s a relief. He tests his vibrant wings with a few flaps, making sure that he can finally use them again. He doesn’t want a repeat from the first death game when he tried to use them right after he got back home, but luckily the huge body of water saved him.

Why does it feel like something’s off?

He shakes his head, convincing himself that it’s probably his imagination.

Once he guarantees that his appendages aren’t tingly anymore, he spreads them to their whole wingspan and bends his knees before lifting into the air, zooming past the trees and river as he heads to one of the Hermits involved. The cool breeze ruffles his blonde hair and brushes against his face, humming in satisfaction before seeing a certain theme park in the distance.

Grian scans the area and beams to see Scar, standing in front of his pile of shulkers around the area of what looks to be a recently built, yet unfinished castle entrance. He allows his wings to ride the wind as he glides down and gracefully lands right behind the vex.

“Hello there!” Grian greets gleefully with a cheeky smile.

“Oh! Oh! Oh, gosh, you scared me.” Scar yelps as he violently jumps and spins to face Grian, breath heaves as he caresses his chest with a hand.

Grian places a hand over his mouth as he giggles before regaining his composure with a relieved sigh.

“That’s a cute hat.” Grian comments promptly and moves his gaze to the Jellie ear hat, whilst he raises a brow with a smirk.

“Oops, I almost forgot.” Scar plants a hand on his head and huffs a silent laugh. “We can’t have me building without my trusty hard hat now, can I?” He snickers as he pulls out the ear hat and waves his free hand, sparkling in blue as an orange hard hat appears out of thin air before casually wearing it. “What brings you here, Grian? Are you procrastinating again?”

“Wha—! No, I wasn’t.” Grian exclaims before clearing his throat and calming himself. “I was just doing my rounds and checking to see if everyone from the recent death game is as okay as they’ll ever be, you know? We can never be too careful.” He solemnly adds as he rubs the back of his neck with a grimace.

“As you can see, I’m fit as a riddle!” Scar places his fists on his sides and puffs his chest in confidence.

“Don’t you mean ‘fit as a fiddle’?” Grian corrects with a snort.

“Potayto, potahto.” Scar waves a dismissive hand.

“By the way, I love how you made the castle arch. The details you’ve put into this are insane.” Grian strains his neck and stares at the new structure in awe.

“Aw! Thanks, dude.” Scar squeals in delight.

“Well, I better be going now. If I stay too long, I won’t be able to finish checking up on everyone today.” Grian faces Scar as he imparts earnestly, turning back to face the direction of his base and spreads his wings before something grabs his wrist, only to see the culprit that is a frowning Scar. “S-Scar? Is there something wrong?”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Scar mutters in a low tone as he narrows his eyes.

“L-Like I said, I- I still need to visit the other—” Grian stammers as the lump forms in his throat whilst hastily pulling his hand away.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Scar forcefully pulls Grian towards his way.

“S-Scar? If- If this is a joke, y-you can stop now. Y-You’re scaring me a bit there, pal.” Grian’s stomach twists into a knot as he nervously chuckles.

What is going on? Why does Scar’s attitude suddenly shift into one hundred eighty degrees?

This is unlike him.

Grian hates to admit it, but the vibe in his vex friend’s glowing cyan eyes right now is similar to a predator locking its jaws to its prey. Manic and bloodthirsty, just like—

“I never told you to leave, didn’t I?” Scar singsongs and tilts his head to the side as he stretches his lips into a toothy grin.

“I—”

“Didn’t I?”

Grian’s blood runs cold as he can only watch his friend’s drastic change like a deer in headlights.

“N-No…” Grian winces as he barely utters a whisper, lowering his head and trembling in place like a newborn fawn.

He hates this. He hates this so much.

Where’s Aine Mumbo when Grian needs him?

━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━

"What do you mean he's still in that wretched place?" Tango growls and slams the table as his color returns to its original yellow and red hue, bursting into flames while his claws dig through the wooden surface of the poor furniture.

"Tango, calm down." Cub warns calmly as he plants a comforting hand on the blazeborn's shoulder.

Based on Scar's experience, he knows for a fact that all of Cub's gestures are always and forever will be soothing.

"I am!" Tango yells before slapping the other vex's arm away.

"It sure doesn't feel like it." Scar blurts.

Tango snaps his head to his direction with a death glare.

Uh, oh.

"I didn't mean it that way!" Scar beckons both hands in a surrendered position.

"Are you sure about that, buddy?" Tango grins too widely, exposing his razor-sharp as he slowly walks to Scar's spot. "Cause it sure doesn't feel that way!" He screams as his fist bursts into flames, throwing it at full speed to the brunet's face.

"Wait—" Scar pales and shuts his eyes, bracing for the impact that doesn't come.

Hm?

What happened?

Cracking open one eye, he sees Cub standing between Scar and Tango as he holds the latter's arm, successfully stopping the punch halfway.

"I'm sure that everyone is tense and worried for Grian, but it doesn't mean you're allowed to take your frustration out towards each other." Cub addresses calmly.

"Why should I listen to you? Don't act like you know me!" Tango snaps while pulling his arm away from the other vex's hold.

The air falls silent, stifling and awkward before it suddenly shifts as a familiar energy buzzes and sends electric sensation to Scar's skin, causing them to form goosebumps.

Oh, no.

"I don't care no matter how much furniture you break with that temper of yours. But if you ever try to harm Scar again, I won't hesitate to break all the bones in your body." Cub warns with an undertone, eyes glowing icy blue as he stares daggers to the blond's direction.

Cub's mad.

Gulping at the tense scenery in front of him, Scar can only wait for someone to make the first move as his feet are stuck to the ground, preventing him from doing anything aside from watching quietly.

Luckily, Tango's bursting flame reverts to a slick back hair before his shoulders slouch with a deep sigh.

"Sorry, Scar." Tango quietly apologizes as he rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze.

As Scar is about to open his mouth, he can hear footsteps approaching their way, causing him to turn around to see Xisuma walking.

"I apologize for the interruptions, but I came to inform you that the preparations are complete." Xisuma states before facing their fellow Hermits and beckoning a hand to Scar. "If what Scar has discovered is true, it means that nobody but myself can safely retrieve Grian from the void. Unfortunately, since it's a Watcher's planet, my magic isn't strong enough to hijack the world even with the vast knowledge of every admin in this room."

"So, what do you suggest we should do?" Gem raises a hand in question.

"Scar has shared that using his connection with Grian, he can try and use it as a catalyst to enter his mind, waking him up, so he can leave on his own. We're all aware that it's a huge gamble and the success rate isn't that high, but considering who we're dealing with, we have no other option." Xisuma imparts while gesturing his hands. "And with that, I do apologize from the bottom of my heart for my incompetence as your main admin and friend." He solemnly concludes before lowering his head.

The room falls silent after everyone sees their fellow Hermit being sorry for something he can't control, making Scar's heart skip a beat as he can only grimace and curls his fists to his side, while helplessly listening to everyone's worried murmurs.

If only he has a better solution than this, they won't need to expose the Hermits to anger. Heck, even going into Grian's mind thing can only be achieved by using the connection to gain access to the avian's magic. Without that, he can't do something of that caliber.

"After this meeting, the Hermits who volunteered to rescue Grian will embark on a journey to our missing friend's mindscape, so I hope that the ones who remained here will do all that they can to protect their sleeping friends from danger." Xisuma adds. "Volunteers, would you please step forward?"

Without hesitation, Scar does as he's told, followed by Mumbo, Pearl, Impulse, Tango, Cub, and lastly Xisuma.

Next stop, Grian's mind.

Chapter Text

Tick…

Tock…

Tick…

Tock…

As the hand clicks every second that passes, Grian stares at the analog clock ticking its own merrily way on a wall, never getting to experience what suffering means and simply moves in sync with time. He's fully aware that he's talking like this to an object like it had a choice or, well—alive, but there's really nothing for him to do in this room aside from staring at the cat-themed wall clock in Scar's treehouse all day.

And as usual, Jellie is off to whatever it is she's doing.

Just when he thought he had to say goodbye to this place after returning to his own body, he's back only to be imprisoned. He moves his gaze and takes an apathetic glance to a window beside him, staring blankly into space as the ticks fill the silent room.

Tick…

Tock…

The chair falls on its back as Grian growls and beelines to the wall, snatching the stupid clock with a jump before throwing it with all his might across the kitchen, shattering it to a million pieces, as he huffs and puffs heavily with clenched fists to his sides and a scrunched nose.

What is he doing?

Why is he doing this?

Breaking a couple of things won't help him escape from this place, let alone fight him to steal his freedom back.

He folds his knees and flops to the floor, tears rolling on his cheeks as he slouches and plants his forehead on the surface, balling his trembling hands into fists as he cries his powerlessness silently.

This wasn't what he had in mind when he decided to accept the invitation to join Hermitcraft as refuge.

It's exactly like what happened back in high school!

Of course, he already went to Mumbo and the others to point out Scar's odd behaviour, but they did nothing. In fact, they acted as if it was normal, 'nothing to see here' vibe written all over their faces.

What did he escape that hellscape for?

It's to free himself from the stifling relationship with those people, yet it's occurring again.

Was everything that took place before all a lie to let his guard down? Were the Hermits actually as cruel as the people in his high school days?

He's not sure anymore!

A thundering sound can be heard, making Grian wince and shrink further towards himself as he helplessly covers his head under his arms, doing nothing but cower as he always does. As the approaching footsteps are getting closer, so does the speed of his drumming heart against his cold chest.

Clomp…

Clomp…

Clomp…

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." Grian weeps as he repeatedly chants like a broken record, unable to feel his legs whilst feeling the unknown phantom pain on his back. "I won't do it again I won't do it again I won't do it again I won't do it again I won't do it again—"

He releases a whimper the second he senses someone touching him, causing him to lay frozen whilst quivering like a cornered animal, waiting for the inevitable.

He might as well be one considering his situation.

If only he can turn back time, so he can return to a certain point before everything turns upside down.

Back to a time when the Watchers weren't in the picture yet.

Back to a time when he was still good friends with Taurtis and Sam.

Back to a time before his parents got divorced and his brother would always be there to protect him, embraced him with his warmth whilst fighting their battles side by side, reassuring him that no harm would ever come their way when he's around.

Well, he's kind of right.

Nothing went right the second he left Grian to fight all by himself.

He shouldn't have left.

"Aine, why did you leave me?" Grian gasps as his heart constricts.

"Who's 'Aine'?"

Grian's eyes blow wide and snaps his head to the source of the voice, only to realise he's not on the wooden floor anymore and in someone's arms, embracing him tightly but not stifling with his warm hold.

Why is he—?

Well, whatever this is, it's not enough for him to forget what he did for the past few months since they returned from the last death game.

"S-Scar? Is- Is this a joke?" Grian pushes the terraformer away with a scowl.

"Wh-What do you mean?" Scar inquires in a quiet voice.

"Come off it! Don't pretend you didn't know." Grian scoffs and springs up from his position whilst curling his fists.

"I- Is this about our fight with Mumbo? Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Scar furrows his brows and stands up. "With how hectic our situation was in that death game, I didn't get a chance to talk to you properly.

Why is he talking about that?

"That's not what I meant!" Grian snaps as he slams a fist towards the window, shattering it. "That was months ago, Scar. I meant your shitty attitude towards me after that!"

Ah, he swore again.

He doesn't care anymore, though.

Why does he need to follow etiquette when everyone here is just as shitty as those people?

"Months? Y-You've been stuck here that long?" Scar turns pale as he gapes in shock.

What does Scar mean by that?

All of a sudden, a door slams open, surprising both Hermits and making them jump at the same time.

"Scar, is he here?" Tango's voice calls before emerging from the kitchen entrance.

"Yeah, I found him. What's wrong?" Scar turns to face the Netherborn.

"The inverted Hermits have found our Mumbo and they're pissed. We gotta go now." Tango urgently informs.

"Grian, we can talk all we want later. But first, I need you to wake up so you can get out of here." Scar hurriedly approaches Grian.

"Why should I believe you?" Grian scoffs. "All you did is lie and pretend to be all nice, but the second everyone's back is turned, you lashed all your frustrations to me!"

"I—" Scar recoils before vigorously shaking his head as his expression hardens. "We don't have time! I really wanna know who this 'Aine' guy is or how you are treated in this horrible place but if we don't go now, I won't be able to see you anymore." He pleads desperately.

"Good riddance, then!" Grian grins ear to ear as he crosses his arms, bracing himself for a sharp pain when he realises what he has done, only to feel nothing.

He stares down and looks at his injured hand, only to see it not soaking in blood anymore, let alone wounded.

What's going on?

He's one hundred percent sure that he got injured when he broke the window. Looking back, his question is answered when he spots the shattered glass behind him.

"Are you wondering why your hand wasn't what you expected it to be?" Scar intercepts, causing Grian to reluctantly nod. "For some reason, the people in one's dreamscape can harm the host, but the host can never harm themselves." He discloses.

Dreamscape?

"Gri, I know that all of this is confusing right now, but we don't have time to lose. If something ever happens to Scar here, we won't be able to reach out to you anymore." Tango steps in and persuades with a solemn tone.

"What does that mean?" Grian raises a brow in question.

"The same explanation I just told you. If one of the inverted Hermits kills me, I'll be considered dead, and I can never enter here again." Scar answers.

"Seriously, is there something wrong with you fellows? All you've been doing is spout nonsense." Grian strains a smile as he takes a step back.

It's ridiculous.

Him, in a dream?

Likely story.

Then, why did it hurt so much when Scar pulled his hair so much that Grian thought the vex was gonna make him bald?

Why did these ugly scars decorated his pale skin after the former Boatem crew tried to shoot him multiple times, or ambushed him with their respective weapons whenever he went out?

Why did he have to experience pain and suffer so much if all of this is a dream?

"I know who 'Aine' is."

Grian flinches violently when Tango's voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

"What- How did you—"

"But… I'll only tell you if you believe and follow what we have to say, so you can finally leave this place." Tango raises a finger and releases a cheeky smile, exposing his razor-sharp teeth.

"I- Okay." Grian's shoulders slump in defeat.

He hopes this won't come back to bite him later.

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Oh.

They're telling the truth.

He owes someone an apology, then (the number of people he's indebted to increases since all he does is plan on doing that, but he actually never did it).

Blinking his eyelids (at least it feels like he is), Grian stares at nothing but the void blank surrounding him. With all the blackness painting the background, he can't tell which way is up or down as it's been so long since he last properly visited this place. Sure, he fell from the Boatem Hole multiple times, but it was only an instant before the mysterious force brought him and the crew back to the surface.

That's what being a magical hole is with its unexplainable magical properties, he supposes.

Surprisingly, despite being in pitch black darkness, he can still see himself just fine. He focuses on that vision, observing his appearance is still from the recent death game—sporting his Bad Boy leather jacket and sunglasses but three pairs of stumps can be seen on his back, serving as a horrific reminder of what occurred last year, and how everything started to go downhill from there.

Aside from that, another signature look for his Watcher traits apart from his severed limbs is the eyes littering all throughout his body, blinking at random times and speed like each of them is sentient. In which, they aren't (at least he hopes so).

In a blink of an eye, a hand pats Grian's shoulder, causing him to release a very manly squeal as he violently jolts, turning back in reflex as he is met face to face with none other than Evil Xisuma themself.

"EX! What are you doing here?" Grian hurriedly questions with wrinkled brows.

"I live in the void, stupid. Everyone knows that." Evil Xisuma clicks their tongue and rolls their crimson eyes.

"I know that all voidwalkers live here, obviously. But that's not the point." Grian shakes his head. "I mean, how are you here? I thought Watcher-owned planets can't be invaded uninvited like Hermitcraft." He prods whilst gaping from disbelief.

"I may or may not have manipulated something from behind the scenes to move the ownership to your name specifically, considering you're also a Watcher, which made it easier." Evil Xisuma casually explains as he averts his gaze and shrugs like it doesn't concern him. "Don't tell X." They murmur. "But due to that, it made a huge trace of your magical signature, which those bastards will definitely use to track you back to our planet if you go home." Their shoulders slump with a grimace.

The colour on Grian's face drains as he lays frozen in place, gaping in shock from the unveiled news.

Does this mean he can't see his friends anymore?

His hands tremble, feeling chilly all of a sudden as his body quivers whilst holding a tight grip on his messy locks, as an attempt to ground himself (despite the lack of one).

This can't be happening. There's still so many things he wants to do like finishing the back of his mega base. He still hasn't apologised after all this time. Without warning, tears fall from his original pair of eyes, sobbing as he wipes them vigorously using the hem of his red jumper.

"There's no need for you to cry like a baby." Evil Xisuma scoffs.

"What- You don't need to be such a jerk about it." Grian scowls. "At least you can still waltz in and out of that planet because X is too soft when it comes to you." He points an accusatory finger towards their armoured chest.

"That's not what I meant." Evil Xisuma heavily sighs whilst massaging the bridge of their nose. "You can still go back, but I need to fix an issue first, so you won't be a walking disaster back at home."

Oh.

That relieves the raging beat of his heart quite a lot, if you ask him.

What do they need to fix, though, that they even have to reveal themself in front of someone despite hating it so much?

"What do you mean?" Grian inquires.

"We can't have you act like a living GPS for those fuckers now, can we?" Evil Xisuma huffs and smirks. "Plus, it's pretty annoying as hell if you accidentally switch bodies with your boyfriend again or burn the whole planet on fire."

"You- I- What- Scar's not my boyfriend!" Grian sputters as he strongly protests.

He's just his best friend—a family, that's all.

"Right. And I'm my brother's clone." Evil Xisuma comments sarcastically. "Come on, we have to go back to the surface and fix you up before those pests arrive." They beckon a hand as they flick it towards themself, turning back to walk in the opposite direction. "We can't have another voidwalker become one of their playthings anymore."

What did they mean by that?

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The world blinks into existence, moving his feet forward as the grass crunches against Grian's shoes. His hands tremble once he's overwhelmed with cold sweat, swallowing the lump clogging his throat as he presses his lips into a flat line.

Will whatever Evil Xisuma did to him earlier really work? That he won't need to worry about his magic from going out of control anymore despite his wings are long gone? He's not sure what the voidwalker did to him, but hopefully this works.

"Here goes nothing." Grian takes a deep breath, slowly closing his eyes one by one as the number of perspectives gradually diminish from his vision.

Finally, he can only see what's in front of him and tenses his shoulders, anticipating for something to happen. Hearing the chirps of crickets, he looks around his surroundings to spot nothing out of the ordinary.

No explosions whatsoever.

Whew!

He digs a hand to his pocket and takes out his device, typing out a message towards a certain 'villain' with a tongue out in concentration.

< Grian > thanks ex

< Grian > i couldnt have done it without you

< EvilXisuma > whatever

< EvilXisuma > dont message me again

Reading at the last message, he releases a wheeze, typing once more with his digital keyboard.

< Grian > no promises

< EvilXisuma > i hate you

< Grian > i love you too

He pockets his comm back before approaching the nearest Ender Chest in the area, digging through his stuff if he has an elytra in here somewhere.

Does he even have one in the first place?

Nope.

He's walking, then.

After what feels like forever since Grian left the community area and headed to the Nether, he emerges from the Nether Portal and releases a sigh of relief from how cool the Overworld is, now realising too late about the immense height his portal is located.

Should he try to exit to another Hermit's base instead?

Nope.

Theirs are too far from his place. Besides, it's late in the evening and he surely can't avoid the dangers lurking in the forest.

Why isn't Bdubs asleep? Is he off-world?

Checking his device to make sure and yep, the sleep master isn't here at the moment to speed up the night.

Okay!

The dangerous route, it is.

Sitting on the ledge of the portal frame, he slowly grabs the said frame with all his might as he hangs his feet mid-air, releasing a yelp at the sudden drop whilst his heart beats wildly inside his heaving chest. Unexpectedly, he feels his whole body shifting gradually downwards, seeing his hands starting to give up on him and slipping off.

No no no no—

This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea!

His adrenaline rises through the roof as he falls, sensing the wind rushing against every part of his body, as he can only stare in dread at the portal getting further away. He lets out a yelp when something hits him at full speed, halting his doom whilst he notices that he's hovering. Looking to the side, he sees and realises that he's been carried bridal style by none other than Tango Tek himself.

"T-Tango? How- You- What are you doing here?" Grian sputters and gapes in confusion. "And your hair is cyan again. How did you—"

"You literally almost fell to your death and that's what you're worried about?" Tango complains with a loud voice. "I know respawn is a thing in this world, but you've got to be careful!"

"I- I was, but I forgot that my portal is high up there and my wings are gone and—" Grian slaps a hand to his mouth with a gasp, staring widely into the redstoner's pale face filled with dread.

"You- Your wings are—What happened?" Tango questions as he lands safely onto the ground by the entrance.

"It's kind of a long story and—" Grian rubs the back of his neck with a grimace, averting his gaze and spots Scar leaning his head on a pillar, sound asleep.

He's okay.

Thank goodness.

"Why is Scar sleeping outside my house?" Grian inquires.

"He, uh… insisted on waiting for you to come back. Something about wanting to say something important." Tango observes the terraformer's sleeping form with a sad smile. "Can you tell me everything that happened to you?"

"But, I—" Grian's heart skips a beat as he opens his mouth hesitantly, grabbing his arm whilst biting his lower lip.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me." Tango grins and ruffles the younger Hermit's already unkempt hair. "You're free to run away from your problems."

"I- A-All I do is run, but look where that got me." Grian chuckles awkwardly whilst taking a glance at his empty back.

"Your mom was an avian, so it makes sense that your flight response is through the roof." From the corner of Grian's eye, Tango huffs as he looks up to watch the moon.

What?

"How did you—" Grian snaps his head to focus his attention towards the Netherborn, furrowing his brows in surprise.

Is it an assumption on his fellow Hermit's part about saying Grian's parent was an avian, considering he himself is was one? But he explicitly said it was only his mum, not including his dad.

"I can hear the gears shifting from a mile away, Gri." Tango chuckles. "But before I could tell you my part of the story, I need to hear yours first."

"S-Sure." Grian blinks, frozen in place.

There's a mountain of questions piling in his mind at the moment. If he wants answers, he might as well do what he says.

Maybe he can even get information on how Tango knew Aine. Sure, there's a chance that they're not the same person, but it's worth a shot.

And thus begins the storytelling of how the moon crashed, how he was teleported to a random modern world, and how Sam found him. From that point on, it's getting harder for him to tell the tale as his drumming heart and cold fingers protest on continuing further, every bit of his being is begging him to flee and forget this ever happened.

But he can't.

He won't change anything if he keeps this up.

With a few deep breaths, he continues to share his side of the story whilst humming in satisfaction from how soothing Tango's hand is, rubbing circles on his back, making him forget the metaphorical and literal pain of losing his means of freedom.

He discloses how he almost escaped from Sam's clutches but with the Watchers' assistance, they provided the rabbit hybrid their Blessing, cutting off his wings to stop him from escaping their clutches. From beside him, he can feel the scorching temperature gradually rising along with Tango's anger but ignores the discomfort, grabbing his friend's hand as a silent reassurance that it's okay, making the heat lower gradually.

At one point, he thought about giving up until he remembered the Boatem Crew's faces and positive words, which was his encouragement to rise from his predicament. With his previous experience back when he was in high school and Watcher magic, he barely escaped.

From that point on, he goes straight to telling his experience with uncontrollable magic shenanigans during the start of season nine, and how it caused him to switch bodies with Scar, along with a new adventure of living someone's life until he reaches the present.

"And you probably know the rest. And that's it." Grian sighs deeply as he looks up to face the twinkling stars, feeling the cold wind slowly ruffling his golden locks.

"Thank you." Tango simply says.

"What? What for?" Grian faces the other blonde with bewilderment.

"It's just… been so long since we properly talked like this." Tango presses his lips into a flat line.

"What are you talking about? Did you mean the Prank War?" Grian guesses.

"No. Much further than that." Tango fidgets with his hands before exhaling. "How was my warning before the flight regarding the Watchers? Did they come in handy?" He curves his lips into a weak smile as his cyan eyes glint under the moonlight, making them seem like they're glassy from unshed tears.

Grian's eyes widen and immediately gapes in shock, speechless of the revelation occurring right before him. He never told anyone about his childhood. Heck, not even Mumbo knows what happened after they went separate ways that day.

"Are- Are you- Are you r-really…" Grian's words clog his throat as his entire body quivers. "...Aine?" He manages to finish his question.

"It's been about twenty odd years, right? I go by Tango now, though." Tango stretches his lips into a soft smile.

Grian's body moves on its own will as he springs forward, swinging his fist and punches Tango right in the face, causing the latter to fall sideways onto the ground with an oof. Huffing and puffing, his mind finally catches up on what he has done and clenches his trembling fists from the boiling anger rising rapidly.

"I feel so much better now. Oh, my goodness." Grian plants his hands to his sides as he sighs in relief. "That's for leaving. Shall I punch you again for pretending like we don't know each other after all this time?" He approaches the other blonde with a grin as he prepares a fist.

"No, no, no, no. Wait. Firstly, my cheek really hurts. How are you this strong?" Tango frantically sits up and drags his butt backwards, as he caresses his swollen face with a hand.

"If you haven't guessed it yet, bro. I'm a builder first and foremost and secondly, I carry heavy materials as much as every Hermit on this planet." Grian rolls his eyes before offering a lending hand. "Now, spill the beans or you're gonna continue working with Decked Out Two looking like a chipmunk." He demands with an undertone.

"I'm okay with that. I'm not about to dig my own grave and let Zed or Impulse bully me for the rest of our lives." Tango casually shrugs whilst grabbing Grian's hand, hoisting himself up. "Plus, I already planned to tell you this for a long time, anyway. I just needed courage and an excuse to do it." He solemnly adds with averted gaze.

The wind blows strongly, causing the two Hermits to shiver and look at Scar's vulnerable sleeping form. Tango approaches the vex with quiet steps, carefully putting his arms under the terraformer's legs and shoulders before hoisting him up.

"Mom and dad's divorce was unexpected, but the most sudden event that happened back when our family was still together was when a Watcher got a hold of dad's location, teleporting right inside the house while you were asleep." Tango starts as he slowly walks to the inside of Grian's base, carefully settling Scar on the bed and bringing the blanket up to his collarbone.

"Hold on. Why would the Watchers need dad's location?" Grian beckons a hand as a stop motion.

"Oh, right. I guess you never knew this whole time. Dad was actually a voidwalker adapting the traits of a Netherborn. You know how they can freely change appearance like how shapeshifters do, right?" Tango inquires and Grian nods in reply. "That's also how he remained undetected until that day. Voidwalkers are an endangered race, even more so when Watchers recruit or forcibly convert voidwalkers into one of them." He closes the door behind him with a soft click, scowling at the last part.

"Why would they need voidwalkers specifically? Aren't there many races for them to target, considering almost every race has a high affinity with magic apart from humans?" Grian inserts with furrowed brows.

"There's actually one condition for someone to become a Watcher and that is…" Tango bites his lower lip as he grimaces, causing Grian to pat the redstoner's shoulder for comfort. "...you need to be a voidwalker to qualify, otherwise the conversion never works."

'We can't have another voidwalker become one of their playthings anymore.'

Suddenly, what Evil Xisuma had muttered a few hours back makes sense now.

Is this why Hermitcraft is very well-prepared when it comes to invasion of Watchers, especially the special barrier that prevented them from entering without permission? Is this why Xisuma was so cautious to Grian when he first discovered he was one of them?

Is this also possibly why their main admin rarely visits the void despite his lungs not being built to intake Overworld air?

"Apart from that, since they're both the only creatures of the void, Watchers can easily snatch the voidwalkers' power for themselves through various methods and vice versa. This may be why they never steal from other races, but it's only speculation on my part." Tango walks along the floating rock bridge.

"How about the Enderians like Endermen or the dragon? Aren't the End and void the same?" Grian follows suit.

He watches the redstoner's back from behind as they continue to walk, feeling nostalgic of how reassuring Aine's Tango's back is like how it did back when they were still young and ignorant.

"They may look the same, especially with the pitch black darkness and how distinct the density of the air is compared to the Overworld and Nether, but they're ultimately different." Tango's shoulders slump whilst taking a deep sigh.

A droplet taps Grian's nose, causing him to touch it and looks up into the dark cloudy sky. Without warning, the water falls to the ground with full force, soaking the two Hermits wet within seconds before frantically retreating back into Grian's base. Closing the door behind with a click, he heads to his temporary bedroom quietly and pulls out two towels, before going back to the entrance.

"Here. Sorry, this is the only thing I can provide you. All my clothes are still unwashed, and I still haven't built the bathroom since I was still figuring out how to finish the back of this place." Grian hands over a towel as he sheepishly apologises.

"It's okay, man. I'm not one to talk, after all." Tango chuckles and accepts the offering, rubbing his drenched hair with it repeatedly.

"So, what happened to our family after that encounter?" Grian raises a brow in question and dries his hair with his own towel.

"Hm, where was I again?" Tango hums as he muses. "Oh, yeah. Ever since that Watcher 'visited' our house, dad swiftly killed them to avoid the location from being leaked. But our parents and I were apprehensive of what might happen to us if they found us again, so they decided to live separately and in the end move to a different country."

The thunder produces a loud crashing noise from outside, making it sound like the world is about to end with the huge impact, as the two siblings jump from surprise at the same time.

Up to that point, Grian is fully aware of how much their relationship had declined ever since the unexpected separation. To think it was the Watchers again that ruined his life ever since back then despite his lack of knowledge.

Why do they love to do this to his family so much?

Can't they just give them a break?

To be fair, it's partly his fault that they were involved in his mess. If only he listened to his brother's warning, would everything that happened in EVO and beyond have changed for the better?

It could've been. There's no way of knowing.

But there's one thing Grian is sure of, though.

Now that he knows, he won't let it happen to his friends—his family ever again.

"Oh, I almost forgot. How could they enter a world that easily? I thought their massive magical energy prevented them from accessing a world without risks." Grian wonders with a tilt of his head. "Since they don't have physical vessels to help suppress it, they have to rely on giving 'Blessings' to their pawns. But considering how that will end up destroying that individual's body and ultimately perish, it should've been impossible for them to 'visit' dad, right?"

"Right?” Tango agrees. “ That's what I thought at first, but after seeing you when you first joined Hermitcraft, I knew right away that your magical energy is similar to Watchers, but you were able to enter without problem." He paces around the small area back and forth as he waves his hands around.

"It's possible they were an incomplete Watcher." Grian gasps in realisation. "J-Just like me." He deflates and mutters, holding his arm tightly with a grimace.

"It's okay, Gri. I'm here for you." Tango reassures with a smile as he pats Grian's shoulder. "I won't let you down again. Heck, it doesn't have to be me if you still hate my guts. Despite being easily distracted, Scar's a good friend who will always be by your side. Even if Mumbo may seem spineless most of the time, he'll come through when the time comes. There's also Pearl with her unrivaled strength with a sword, and Impy's positivity who always makes the impossible possible." He stretches his lips into a sad smile.

"You wish." Grian smirks as he rolls his eyes. "I won't let you get away with it now that I know who you are. I can already think of a few ideas to prank your face off." He points a finger to Tango's direction with a giggle.

"Oh, no! The horror!" Tango dramatically cries before breaking into a fit of laughter.

The sound of rainfall gradually diminishes from the background, causing Grian to open the door and check the situation outside, only to stay frozen in place and gaze at the sunrise in awe.

The storm is finally over.

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Grian walks to his bedroom, looking for the basket filled with dirty clothes. With how he needed it earlier but couldn't provide any clean ones, he might as well do the laundry today whilst he waits for the sun to fully rise, and dry the drenched surroundings.

There's nothing more annoying than getting out of the comforts of his house right after the rain.

"Did Tango go back to his base already?"

Grian flinches violently from the sudden voice, whipping his head to the bed and sees Scar sitting up whilst rubbing his eyelid.

"You scared the life out of me." Grian sighs as he caresses his raging heart. "Yeah, he did. He still needs to finish level three and four of Decked Out Two apparently." He nods in response as he fetches the basket by the window.

"Can you sit here, G?" Scar pats the empty part beside him. "It's just for a few minutes. I need to tell you something."

"Sure." Grian shrugs and sits down, putting the basket on the floor beside him. "What's up?" He inquires casually with a smile.

"You were lying about needing more concentration and precision to summon your wings, didn't you?" Scar states solemnly more than he questions, making Grian jolt silently. "I always wondered why I never saw you using your wings once before we switched bodies, and now I know. Why did you keep it a secret?"

Grian fidgets with his clammy fingers as his heart won't stop beating against his chest, the back of his eyes hurt from unshed tears as the lump forms in his throat, preventing him from breathing freely.

"It was half true." Grian starts and gulps. "They'll only appear as stumps of their former glory now when my Watcher traits are in full display. If I try to summon just the wings, they won't emerge since they don't exist anymore." He crosses his forelimbs and holds onto his arms. "As for your question, I honestly have no clue. I never meant to keep it a secret but for some reason, I was afraid to say anything." He presses his quivering lips into a flat line and tightens his grip, digging his nails from his jumper to his skin.

"I'm sorry, Grian." Scar apologises solemnly.

"What for?" Grian whips his head to make eye contact.

"For- For everything. From not doing anything even after noticing something was off, for saying harsh words when I knew nothing, and not being there for you when you were at your lowest." Scar bites his lower lip whilst the tears flow from his leafy eyes.

Seeing Scar's vulnerable form causes his heart to skip a beat, inching closer towards him before wrapping his arms around his best friend's neck, not being able to stop his own waterworks from breaking the dam as he sobs.

"I'm sorry, too, buddy." Grian wavers. "I- I shouldn't have…" His breath hitches, preventing him from speaking further.

"Shh, you don't need to talk." Scar reassures with a soft voice as he rubs soothing circles on Grian's trembling back. "I already forgave you long before this ever happened."

Suddenly, the scenery of the desert flashes before Grian's eyes.

"E-Even though I was terrible to you in all the death games?"

"Dude, I was also mean to you. It's unfair to blame you when everyone was equally tense after being forced to kill each other." Scar retorts firmly.

Just from those few sentences, he feels like the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders.

"They… took my wings." Grian sobs and gasps as he buries his face on Scar's chest, holding a tight grip on the terraformer's clothing like a lifeline.

"Just let it all out." Scar comforts

The words are like a key to Grian's locked heart, causing the waterworks to continue flowing uncontrollably as he can only cry his sorrows away.

Sure, they won't disappear.

In fact, they will always remain as huge wounds in his chest for the rest of his life, but at least they will heal. They might leave ugly scars along the way, but it's okay for him to say this with full confidence that… healing isn't linear. There will always be bumps along the way, but he has his friends who will help him get up on his feet once more.

"Scar…" Grian calls with a raspy voice once the tears finally stop.

"Yeah?"

"I also forgave you a long time ago." Grian raises his head to make steady eye contact and smiles weakly but genuinely.

"Thank you." Scar expresses with his signature crooked smile.