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It all happened so quickly.
One moment, Grian was adjusting some uneven parts of his base, and in the next—before he could barely even blink—he’s in a room filled with darkness that seemed to stretch on towards infinity.
The feeling that settles in him is one that’s familiar and sickening. Without even seeing anyone yet, he already knew what was going to happen—and, sure enough, bright purple tinted wings slowly appeared one by one, illuminating everything in their path like a torch.
He instinctively grabs onto the hilt of his sword, as his own pair of wings begins to emit violet lines of light.
“What is the reason for this?” He demands, though he already has a vague idea of just why they called him here. As much as he hoped tirelessly that his guesses were wrong, standing here now was a clear testament that he couldn’t have been more right. The Watchers were planning something on the one last safe place he had.
Something like a smile appeared on one of their faces as one of them stepped forward. “Nothing. Can’t we just have a conversation?”
Grian steps back. There was something in that smile—something unsettling, something that told his instincts that he had to run, run right now , but to where?
“How did you send us here? You shouldn’t have been able to.”
“Let’s not talk about trivial matters.”
“Then tell me why you called me, or I’ll leave right now.”
“Do you really think that’s the best idea, Grian?”
Grian freezes. Every part of him was screaming at him to run and never look back, like something was pushing at him to leave right now, there’s no time to waste. As though if he didn’t start running right at this very second, he would not be able to reach something in time.
But even as his own mind was shouting indistinct, unintelligible warnings like alarm bells, he merely stood in place, trying to decipher the sickeningly sweet smile on the Watcher’s face standing right in front of him.
“You seem to have gotten comfortable here,” the Watcher says, and Grian takes in every word that he hears as if he’s scared of missing a single piece to complete this puzzle unfolding before his very eyes. “Have you forgotten? You are a Watcher.”
His heart was thrumming loudly now within his ears as he desperately tried to make sense of this scene playing out. “Get on with what you want to say,” he grits through his teeth, though it sounds weaker than he intended it to be.
The smile on the other’s face grows just a little wider, sparks of excitement shining through purple irises. “Enjoy the show; we’re sure you’ll love it. After all…”
The Watcher takes another step, then another, sounds of footsteps breaking the heavy silence, until he’s almost face to face with Grian. Those purple eyes meet the latter’s similar ones, and in that moment it’s like a bucket of ice-cold water has been dropped on his head.
“You have gotten quite close, haven’t you?”
There, in the Watcher’s eyes, reflected the form of Joel—as he stands near the ledge of the cherry mountain, completely unaware of the gazes focused solely on him.
The moment Grian wakes up with a gasp, he’s immediately scrambling to get up.
Before he could even fully process what just happened, he’s already sprinting towards the top of the mountain, the cold wind rushing past him at a dizzying speed that it felt more like hail hitting his skin.
He didn’t care. He needed to get there now, to stop whatever they’re about to do, and to not let Joel fall within their unrelenting grasp.
But even as repeats those words in his head like a mantra, he couldn’t ignore the screams of too late, too late, you’re too late echoing within the walls of his mind.
He can hear his own ragged breathing as he stumbles towards the small figure standing far too close to the edge of the steep mountain. Grian reaches out a hand, too breathless to say anything. Almost desperately, he claws at the words fighting to escape from his throat, and as he exhausts his tired legs to get closer to the other, he shouts as much as his energy will allow him to.
“Joel!”
It was like the world was in slow motion.
Joel turned around, looking over his shoulder.
Bright, purple eyes hovered around him, shooting a glance towards Grian’s direction before focusing their gaze once more to Joel.
Grian reaches out his hand, in something akin to helplessness, as the relentless pounding of his heart and the seemingly-endless racing of his thoughts accompany him. He grits out his teeth, hoping against everything.
But just as Joel was finally, finally within an arm’s distance, his slightly-wide eyes suddenly flutters close, and Grian could only watch as his friend falls forward towards the heap of cherry blossoms on the grass.
Grian quickly catches him just before he could hit the ground, still breathless as his heart continues to thump loudly against his chest. The limp form of Joel within his hands was way too still, and as Grian lightly shakes him awake, the almost suffocating fear grips onto him like he’s been drenched in freezing water.
This wasn’t meant to happen. This wasn’t meant to happen. This wasn’t—
He glares at the Watchers circling around them, instinctively holding Joel closer. “What did you do?”
“Like what I said. Enjoy the scene.”
“What do you—”
And that’s when he noticed it. Joel’s face was slightly crumpled up in an almost distressed expression, eyes tightly shut together. Something akin to dread crept its way to the corners of his head like crawling vines.
“Are you ready to watch?”
Before he could even process what those words meant, suddenly it’s like someone flipped a switch and the next second, he was standing in a vast, dark room. Joel was nowhere to be seen.
Grian curses under his breath. He walks forward, only to be stopped by a seemingly invisible glass wall right before him. Cautiously, he reaches out and places a palm against it.
“What is this…” he mutters, glancing around to see where Joel has disappeared off to. He’s still catching his breath while his racing heartbeat finally calms. Still, he feels dread and uneasiness that he just couldn’t shake off.
Then, a clattering noise of something falling resounded throughout the empty space, prompting Grian to turn around, towards where the glass wall is.
And then he freezes.
Standing before him was none other than Joel, although it seemed like he couldn’t see Grian at all. He looked like he was staring at something, so Grian follows his gaze and—
Lizzie, Mumbo, and Jimmy were all standing in front of Joel, shrouded in dark crimson blood from head to toe. They stood like still shadows, hollow eyes looking right at Joel, who instinctively stepped back. Grian notices belatedly the fear in Joel’s wide, trembling eyes.
“No, no, no—” Joel whispers frantically as he shakes his head at the sight. “No, it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault.”
“ Why did you kill us ?”
Joel flinched. He swallows and shakes his head, as if to deny the scene in front of him, as if to say it wasn’t real. Still, he steps back in a frenzy, chest heaving in a breathless manner.
“I didn’t—”
“ Why did you kill us? ”
“It…it wasn’t…”
“ Why did you kill us?”
“It was—it was…” Joel was grabbing at his head now, desperately trying to cover his ears to stop the endless, emotionless mantras coming from the three.
Grian was watching that spectacle, a sickening feeling churning at the pit of his gut. Was this how Joel felt all along? He wanted to go over to his friend and tell him to not listen, but this damn glass wall was preventing him from going a step further.
“It was my fault. It’s all because of me, all because of me.”
Grian felt sick. The Joel in front of him—shaking, eyes wide in utter terror as he repeated those words to himself in a broken voice—was so different from the one he knows.
I’ve hurt everyone I’ve gotten close to.
Those words from their conversation back in Secret Life…Grian knew Joel blamed himself for that incident, but just to what extent did that hatred towards himself go?
It seemed like he was getting the answers written right now.
When Grian snaps out of his stupor, he’s met with a familiar face. A way too familiar face. His eyes widened.
Jimmy and himself from Limited Life were now standing there; Lizzie and Mumbo were gone, and all that remained were the two looking on at Joel’s still trembling figure.
Except this time—the two’s faces were morphed into one of hatred, of disgust.
Grian already had a pretty clear idea of what this new scene was going to play out. He watches as the two slowly walk towards Joel, who’s still repeating incoherent sentences to himself in a panic, and quickly scrambles towards the wall, hitting it with his two hands in a helpless attempt to stop this inevitable, second act.
But before he could even say anything, the Jimmy from the other side was already speaking.
“I never wanted to be your friend, you know.”
It sounded so wrong in Grian’s ears. But Joel, stuck in this nightmare, only flinched, as if this wasn’t the first time he heard those words in his own head. He digs his nails into his ears, but the words continue to reverberate through the area like an endless echo.
“We would’ve been better off without you, anyway.”
The him from the other side said, and Grian wanted to shout. Instead, all he could do was grit his teeth and hold onto the glass helplessly. Why was this happening? Why?
Joel looks up and sees the pure hatred in the two’s eyes. “N-no. This isn’t real, right? This isn’t real.”
“What if this is what we really feel, Joel?” Jimmy said in a cold voice, so foreign from the real him. The Grian beside him merely nods in silent agreement with a glare.
Without another word, they turn around to leave. So Joel reaches out, shaking eyes looking at them in desperation. “Don’t leave .”
Jimmy only looks over his shoulder in disgust, swatting Joel’s hand away. “Get away from me. We were never friends.”
At this point, Grian felt completely helpless. He couldn’t do anything but watch, his hands turning into fists against the glass. He couldn’t do anything but watch as his friend live his worst nightmares.
Jimmy looked away before leaving into the stretching darkness. The him standing on the other side, however, stopped in his tracks. He turned around to face Joel, who was in a panicked, frightened stupor.
“Grian? Don’t go.” Joel said in a voice barely above a whisper. He sounded…almost hopeless .
Grian watched as the other him slowly opened his mouth to speak, and his heart dropped in dread. He couldn’t let this go on, but what could he do? Just what could he do?
“You know, Joel.”
Grian gritted his teeth, banging on the glass wall again. “Don’t listen to him!”
“I never wanted to stay with you in the games.”
Grian shakes his head. “That’s not true!”
Joel’s eyes were widening slowly, shaking his head as though to convince himself this wasn’t real.
“You know, I’ve always hated—”
Grian was pounding against the wall so much now that his hands were beginning to sting, but he continued to shout despite knowing how futile his efforts were. “Don’t listen to him! I’m right here! Joel, I’m right here!”
“—that it just had to be you alongside me, who could remember everything.”
He glared silently at the figure in front of him before turning to leave—and this time Joel only stood there silently.
Grian cursed, watching the scene unfold. He felt sick. So many questions were reeling through his head, but one word surfaced through all those jumbled-up sentences as he stared helplessly at the sight of his friend, looking completely defeated.
Why?
“You cannot interfere, Grian. You can only watch.”
Grian snaps his head towards the source of the voice. Sure enough, a Watcher was standing there.
He glares at him. “What did you do to him? Why are you doing this?”
But the Watcher merely smiled. Grian wanted to punch that sickening smile away. “He was merely the perfect candidate.”
Grian stops. “What?”
“You just saw, didn’t you? So much insecurity, doubts, sorrow, fears, guilt…everything we love. And your friend has just enough of it for us to strengthen our own powers, which was just enough for us to use it to get here.”
“...What?”
With every word he processes in his head, the more Grian’s heart drops. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe any of this.
“You were asking how we got here, weren’t you?”
He feels dizzy. Everything in him rejected the information being told to him right at this very moment. No, this simply couldn’t be it. Maybe he, too, was dreaming.
And yet…Grian knew that couldn’t be true, either.
He glances as the trembling figure of Joel on the other side of the glass wall clutches onto his head.
Grian forms a hand into a fist. If only…if only he’d reached him earlier, if he was just a millisecond quicker, would any of this have happened at all? It seemed like Joel was now well within the grasp of the Watchers, too far away for Grian to reach, and completely unaware of his own fate.
When he speaks, his throat is dry—from the earlier shouting or from sheer speechlessness, he couldn’t quite tell. “And you’re going to keep him in this state to not lose that power?”
The Watcher in front of him only smiles.
“...ian? Grian?”
Grian slowly blinks his eyes open at the familiar voice calling for him. He could feel grass underneath him, and when he lifts his head, he’s met with the worried face of Scar looking at him.
“Are you two okay? What happened?”
As he sits up, Grian glances beside him, where the still unconscious form of Joel lay close to him. He curses internally as the memories of everything he saw just moments ago flash through his eyes. His heart aches with sympathy at the recollection.
“I’m fine, but—” Grian says, not quite sure how to explain this situation.
Scar follows his gaze and his eyes flicker with concern. “I tried waking him up, too, but he won’t wake up.”
Those words felt like the last piece of rock being placed to cover up a cave—the last piece of confirmation that everything’s been set in stone.
Grian looks away with a frustrated sigh. Towards the Watchers or to himself, he couldn’t tell anymore.
“He’s…sick.” Grian sees the confusion on Scar’s face, so he opts to avert his gaze. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t explain what just happened. “Can you, uh, help me to bring him over to his base?”
“Okay, sure.” Scar nods slowly. As he carefully sets Joel on Grian’s back, he lets his gaze linger just a bit longer on the former, before turning to Grian again. “Hey, can you tell me when he wakes up?”
Grian stops in his tracks with slightly wide eyes. That’s right, these two have gotten quite close since the games started. A small smile grows on his lips. Perhaps it’s just as people say: the heart remembers what the mind doesn’t. “Yeah, sure.”
“It’s weird, you know?” Scar says, as the two of them begin to walk towards the other side of the mountain. He shakes his head lightly, contemplating. “It’s like I’ve met him before…”
Grian glances away. You have, he wanted to say. Instead, he stays silent.
Soon enough, they reach Joel’s base, and when he’s on the bed, Scar bids his goodbye.
Now that he’s sitting here beside the unconscious Joel, it’s like everything has really sunk in. He could feel the Watchers’ presence emanating from Joel’s sleeping figure, and faintly wonders what sort of nightmares they’re conjuring up now.
…Were those nightmares the Watchers’ doing or has it always been from Joel’s own fears?
Grian digs his nails into his pants, feeling like his heartstrings are being pulled. What was he supposed to do now? How could he even begin to formulate a plan at all?
As he sits there in silence, the heavy weight of helplessness begins to slowly, yet surely, wear him down.
Just what was he meant to do now?