Archive of Our Own

Etho knew the base was ruined the second the telltale roaring of the wither met his ears. He heard the manic giggling of Grian and Impulse, specifically Grian, out the outsides of the snow fort, and he knew that it was over.

“We have to get out of here,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Bdubs glanced over incredulously at him, his yellow eyes wide, yet filled with a sort of determination that in turn filled Etho will dread.

“No way!” he exclaimed, “We’re fighting it! This is our home! We need to defend it.”

“Bdubs, you’re on yellow-”

“I have the courage crystal, I’ll be fine,” Bdubs waved him off, putting his diamond axe in his hotbar and sliding his arm into the strap of his shield.

“I really don’t know-” Etho began.

“If you’re too much of a sissy then fine, but I’m doing it.”

Etho looked back at the threat looming over them, it had finished spawning, and was currently wreaking havoc on the other half of the base. No doubt it would notice them in seconds.

“Okay fine, but please don’t die,” Etho said, taking out his sword.

Bdubs turned to him with a large, confident smile plastered on his face. “Wouldn’t dream of it!”

The wither turned to them.

For a second, it just stared, and they were still, staring back.

Then, everything erupted into chaos.

Bdubs and the wither charged at the same time, leaving Etho to sprint after Bdubs, his sword drawn. 

Bdubs was yelling a battle cry, and slashed his axe at the creature. It made contact, oily blood splattering against the pale snow, but the blow barely seemed to affect the beast.

Instead, it turned its attention towards Bdubs and all three of its ugly faces started to spew fiery missile heads at Etho’s comrade.

Bdubs was barely able to dive out of the way in time before the wall behind where he was just standing exploded, leaving a smoking pile of darkened snow. 

Bdubs shouted something, crossbow in hand, and Etho was shocked out of his stupor. He brought out his own bow and fired arrow after arrow at the wither, but the projectiles barely seemed to do more than annoy it. 

Bdubs was firing from his crossbow, which appeared to be enchanted, and it seemed to be doing more damage than Etho’s arrows.

Etho changed to a potion of regen, which he splashed over the two of them, the sticky substance coating them in a red residue but leaving both with a feeling a newfound strength resonating through their veins.

The wither shot another round of heads, and Etho was barely able to jut his shield out in front of him and Bdubs before the impact of the missiles hit the wood, the shockwaves pushing them both to the ground and leaving Etho’s arm in an unfair amount of pain.

Bdubs had blood running down his face from a gash above his eyebrow, but didn’t seem to care, getting back to his feet, and turning his furious gaze upon the wither.

The wither looked back, and another round of heads came forth, but Bdubs was prepared. He dodged and weaved through the projectiles, and ducked, slashing his sword across the wither’s body. It seemed to stumble (however a wither could stumble) backwards, and its three heads seemed disgruntled, and Etho took his chance to snag Bdubs by the back of his moss hoodie and bring him to a miniature cave created by the wither’s havoc.

“We need to get out of here!” Etho yelled over the roaring of the wither.

“No, I almost had it!” Bdubs shouted.

“Bdubs, you’re bleeding, and I really don’t want you going red,” Etho tried to reason, but the wither decided to cut them off. It was out of its shock, and flew high over them, spewing even more heads then before.

Etho dived out of the way of the sudden barrage, pulling Bdubs with him, and landed hard on the stone ground, the air knocked out of him.

He shakily got to his feat, Bdubs nowhere in sight.

“Bdubs?” he called, uncaring of the wither’s attention. “Bdubs where are you?”

“Etho!” Bdubs yelled, and Etho whipped around to where Bdubs had called his name. He was cornered between the wall and the large body of the wither. 

The wither was currently shooting projectiles at Bdubs who wasn’t fast enough to dodge all of them.

“I’m coming!” Etho yelled, and started sprinting towards Bdubs, willing his legs to run faster.

Bdubs had managed to get himself out, but was still in a predicament, the wither hot on his heels.

“Bdubs!” Etho shouted, and Bdubs looked up, his bright yellow eyes shining with fear.

“Eth-”

Bdubs was cut off by the wither striking the ground right by his foot, setting him off balance, and he lost his footing, falling…

“Bdubs!” Etho shouted, and his voice was lost in the roar of the wither and Bdubs’s cry of his own name.

Etho ran to the wall that Bdubs had fallen off. All that remained at the bottom were scattered items. Bdubs’s scattered items.

“Bdubs?” Etho asked, his voice falsely hopeful. Nobody responded.

Etho felt tears threatening to flood his eyes, and he willed them back with much effort, taking a deep shuddering breath.

Bdubs was red. He was red again. Just one more step closer to death.

The wall next to him exploded, and Etho was sent flying away from the scene of Bdubs’s death, and for the second time hit the ground hard.

He coughed, rolling to his back, and tried to regain his breath, which was already shallow from the event that had just unfolded.

The wither didn’t allow him a break, immediately flying to him and started shooting missiles while he was vulnerable and on the ground. 

He rolled out of the way and stumbled to his feet, drawing his sword again. Red hot anger flooded his veins and tinted his eyesight like it was only supposed to when he was red or the Boogeyman.

Etho suddenly felt a newfound determination, and ran towards the wither, forgetting any caution. He jumped at the monster in an arc, his sword raised above his head, and brought his sword down on the middle head of the wither.

The wither cried out in pain, and he held on, his sword buried deep into its skull, his hands and arms quickly becoming soaked in the dark blood that was leaking out of the injury.

The monster spun in agony, forcing him to let go, and he was flung into the wall of his and Bdubs’s stone house, falling to the ground in a heap. 

Etho tried to regain his breath, clutching his ribs, which were screaming at him and were probably broken, and felt the steady trickle of something warm down the side of his face.

He looked up at the oncoming wither, which had blood running splattered across its middle head, and on the sides of its right and left. A large, deep gash ran across its forehead, and Etho smiled at the wound he had managed to inflict. 

The wither flew straight for him, and he closed his eyes, accepting his similar fate to Bdubs, but the blast never came. 

Etho opened his eyes, and the wither was right outside the wall, and he heard the shouts of multiple people. He managed to decipher the yells of Ren, Martyn, and Scott.

“Etho!” Cleo yelled, running up to him. “Are you okay?”

Etho looked up at her, and she helped him to his feet, steadying him when he wobbled a little bit.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, but Bdubs-”

“Is alive,” she assured him. “He hasn’t been seen since he died, and we’re fighting the wither right now-”

The sounds of fighting suddenly stopped, and was replaced with victorious yelling. 

Cleo smiled at him, and Etho found it hard to return the gesture.

“I need to get Bdubs’s stuff!” Etho realized, then broke from Cleo, running to where Bdubs had died, breaking through the wall to collect his things.

Cleo had followed him, and placed a chest where Etho dumped Bdubs’s items, and shut the lid with a heavy thud.

“He should be back any time,” Cleo said, glancing at her com. 

“What if he dies, he’s in the woods with no armor or weapons-”

“I’m right here, quit worrying!” Bdubs shouted, and Etho saw his figure through the inky darkness of night quickly cascading over the players.

“We put your stuff in the chest,” Cleo said, and Bdubs nodded his thanks, but Etho couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bright red in Bdubs’s pupils.

“You okay?” Scott asked Cleo, his eyes checking over her, walking over from where he, Martyn, and Ren had defeated the wither. 

Cleo nodded, and Ren and Martyn walked up to Bdubs and Etho.

“Sorry we couldn’t get here sooner,” Ren said, and he genuinely sounded apologetic.

Bdubs scoffed. “Nothing we couldn’t have handled.”

Ren and Martyn exchanged a look. “Sure,” Martyn said, and he emphasized the er.

They then began a very heated conversation about who knew what with Cleo, and Scott was rolling his eyes, exasperated at the change of subject, but Etho was secretly glad. 

Then, Bdubs pulled him to the side. 

“You’re bleeding,” he said, his red eyes full of concern, his fingers hovering over the stream of blood running down the side of Etho’s face.

“It’s fine,” Etho told him, but immediately proved his claim to be folly when he winced at the pain in his ribs. 

Bdubs crossed his arms. “We’re not playing this game again,” he said pointedly, then handed Etho a potion. “Drink.”

“No,” Etho said, giving the potion back to Bdubs. “Not a whole potion just for this, you need it. You’re red.”

The fact of his eye color suddenly dawned on Bdubs, and he glanced over himself. 

“Oh,” was all he said, before wordlessly pocketing the potion. “Right.”

It was awkward for a moment, before Bdubs turned back to the other four, and interrupted their conversation.

“I don’t see my…” Bdubs suddenly said, opening the chest for effect and making a show of looking through the empty box, then shutting it. “Soulspeed boots.” He finished, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, we don’t have that,” Scott replied offhandedly.

“Oh you better tell me the truth,” Bdubs said, and there was an underlying of a threat

 lacing his voice. 

“Reds are incoming guys,” Cleo said, breaking the tense moment with a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, what looked to be Grian and Joel were emerging over the hill. 

“We should get going,” Etho replied nervously, hand hovering above his axe.

The party of six made their way through the forest and up a hill, where it dawned on all of them the difference of color Bdubs’s eyes had from the rest of them.

“Where are you going?” Scott asked, eyeing Bdubs suspiciously. 

“Just trying to get the high ground with you guys,” Bdubs reasoned, trying to find a way up the hill.

Etho and Scott exchanged a look before Scott said, 

“But you can’t be with us anymore Bdubs.”

“Bdubs-” Etho began.

“You’re on your own, dude,” Ren said, emphasizing the point.

“No, listen,” Bdubs called up to them, his voice sounding confident. “You guys have lives to spare.”

Etho couldn’t stop himself before the words came spilling out of his mouth in his desperation to get his base buddy back. “Well, I’ve got one.” He paused, trying to think of how to salvage what he said so it didn’t sound so desperate. “But you’re gonna have to do something for me.”

“What? Give you the courage to kill the wither? I already did that!” Bdubs’s tone sounded angry, an almost…betrayed. Hurt. 

“Give him a hit,” Scott suggested. “Tell him to kill someone.”

“Yeah!” Bdubs said, jumping on board with the idea right away. “Who do you want?”

Etho thought for a moment. The idea seemed awfully risky, and the repercussions for Bdubs and possibly himself were death. But if it would get Bdubs back…

“Ok, yeah. Kill a red name, and I’ll give you that life.” Etho decided.

Bdubs smiled. “Okay! I can do that!”

“Well, we’re going to leave you to your brooding,” Ren said, clearly nervous around the red.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave. Just give me the life like you promised!” Bdubs shouted up to Etho, who nodded, and watched his best friend turn and sprint back into the forest in search of another red to end their series.

Etho stared off after him, and didn’t respond the first time Martyn had called his name. 

He didn’t hear the soft footsteps walking up to him, and the person who stood next to him formed a comfortable silence. They both stood there, watching the sun rise with the promise of new blood spill and betrayal.

“He’ll be okay,” Cleo said, still staring into the horizon.

“Will he, though?” Etho asked, never tearing his gaze from the trees.

“I don’t know,” Cleo answered truthfully. “But what I do know is that Bdubs is Bdubs and if I know Bdubs he is resilient as fuck and will not go down without a fight. He’ll surely drag someone else with him if he goes down.”

Cleo probably knew that Etho didn’t believe their words, and Etho wasn’t even sure that she believed her words.

They stood there until the sun rose high in the sky, and only then did they move and go find the other greens.

LDShadowlady fell from a high place

The death message caused all of them to glance at their comms, then wince in sympathy for Lizzie, whom none of them were super close to.

“Could that have been Bdubs?” Cleo asked, and it sent a spike of uncertainty through Etho, who glanced at his comrades.

“Maybe,” he answered nervously. “We don’t know for sure though-”  To their surprise, another ping sounded on their communicators. Etho glanced down at it, and the death message made him freeze.

BdoubleO was slain by Grian 

Etho’s heart stopped. It fell out of his chest and shattered on the floor into a million pieces. 

His breath suddenly came short, he was left gasping for air like a fish out of water and his lungs weren’t working correctly.

Bdubs. Gone. What?

Etho’s brain was scrambled. PIecing together the information was impossible, and his head hurt from even trying. 

What about the life? Why hadn’t Etho given Bdubs the life? 

Etho began to type out the command, before a hand on his arm stopped him. He looked up through a haze that he knew was imaginary to the sight of Cleo in front of him. She nodded to the rest of them, and they looked away. Cleo led Etho to the far side of the cavern that they were hiding from the reds in, and took his hand.

“Etho, take a breath.”

Etho found his lungs wouldn’t work, wouldn’t follow her command, and he continued without air.

“Etho,” Cleo said, her voice a little more forceful. “In and out.”

Etho took a small breath, finding it very difficult to force air into his lungs, and Cleo nodded encouragingly at him. 

“Good, now, do you want to talk about it?” they asked, their voice soft and comforting.

Etho shook his head, and suddenly her touch felt like fire. He pulled away from her kind embrace, and stumbled a step back. 

They looked concerned, but made to move to stop him, sensing his discomfort.

“How did you know-?” Etho asked the first thing that popped into his mind.

Cleo hesitated, then, her voice warm, “Bdubs acted almost exactly like that. After Tango had killed you in the firing squad last season.”

Etho didn’t respond. He had been trying to forget the whole ordeal, it was Bdubs’s fault that he had lost his green life after all, but knowing how much Bdubs regretted it- Etho just felt guilt for resenting Bdubs for so long for it.

“Do you-” Cleo began.

“I need to get his stuff,” Etho managed. 

Cleo nodded, then looked unsure. “One of us should come with you-”

“I’ll be fine,” Etho said, then inwardly cursed himself at the harshness in his voice.

Cleo nodded, not seeming offended, and walked over to the rest of the group before telling them something, and then moving on. Etho caught Martyn, Scott, and Ren giving him concerned looks but he shrugged them off. 

He looked down at his comm, pointedly avoiding the death message, and typed a reaction of his own, just for it to be there.

GG Buddy

Etho’s trek to where Bdubs had fallen to Grian’s arrow was not unpleasant. Nor was it the opposite. Etho felt exactly…nothing. His hastily taped heart felt hollow and empty. Thoughts of Bdubs and that damned life replayed over and over and over in Etho’s mind, haunting him the whole walk.

Finally, Etho reached the hill. The mangled body of Lizzie lay at the foot of it. Etho felt a pang of sympathy for her, but Joel would surely be there to bury her, she was his wife after all. 

So he moved on.

He found Bdubs further along the hill. Bdubs’s blood stained the dead green grass brown and red. He lay in a bed of daisies, blood sluggishly seeping out of a wound that had cut straight through his back and right into his heart. Etho dropped to his knees next to his best friend’s corpse, not giving the blood staining his pants any thought, and reached over to cradle Bdubs’s head in his hands.

Etho’s eyes filled with tears, and this time he was unable to tamper them down. They fell, they streamed down his face and dotted along Bdubs’s broken form. Etho’s form racked with quiet sobs. He sobbed for the flowers. He sobbed for the dances around the campfires. He sobbed for the late night talks when neither of them could sleep. 

He sobbed for Bdubs.

Bdubs, who wasn’t coming back. 

The bright smile that always filled Bdubs’s face would never greet Etho again after a long and hard day of mining. Bdubs would never be there to laugh at Etho’s jokes, or become defensive over his stairs. Etho would never be able to call Bdubs a his  fragile flower ever again. 

Even through the haze of bloodlust because of the Boogeyman curse and red life, Bdubs had never betrayed Etho. He had never done Etho wrong. He didn’t kill him on Day one. He chose to kill Grian instead. 

How ironic. Bdubs was the first one to kill Grian, so Grian was the last one to kill Bdubs.

The Watchers sure loved their jokes, didn’t they?

Through the veil of tears, Etho brushed Bdubs’s dark hair out of his face, and gently shut his eyes, which were blown wide with fear and desperation.

Etho had failed him. Etho had failed his best friend, and Bdubs was paying the price.

Etho took a shallow, shuddering breath, but the tears wouldn’t stop. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice watery and thick with grief. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”

He squeezed his eyes shut, letting another round of tears fall from his stinging eyes.
He heard footsteps approaching, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore. Maybe it would have been better if it was a red coming to finish him off.

Then he could have been one step closer to Bdubs.

Instead, the footsteps stopped a few feet away from him, but Etho still didn’t bother turning around. He almost found himself wishing it was a red.

“I’m sorry,” Etho heard behind him. Grian. Etho still didn’t turn to look at Bdubs’s murderer.

“I-” Grian’s voice broke, and Etho heard him fail to keep in a sob. “I forgot everything, he killed Lizzie, and-and I-I just saw the opportunity-”

Grian cut himself off, heaving another sob. Etho stopped crying, expecting himself to feel anger, or at least some sort of resentment towards the other man. But none came.

He wasn’t mad at Grian, despite everything. Grian, who had killed his best friend. 

“Why don’t I hate you?” Etho asked, his voice hollow and broken.

Grian didn’t respond, but his cries grew in intensity. 

Etho stood up, ignoring the blood now coating his clothes, and turned to face the avian.

Grian stood there, trembling with tears pouring down his face, and nothing but a flower clutched tightly in his hand.

Etho saw it, and his heart slightly broke. 

His bloodshot eyes met Grian’s, and a silent agreement passed through the two. Etho bent to pick up Bdubs, nearly sobbing again at how small and frail his body seemed in his arms, and turned back to Grian, leading the way.

Etho and Grian buried Bdubs in the snow castle. It took hours to dig the grave, and it was far from perfect, but it was the most they could do in a death game where most players didn’t even get a farewell.

Etho lowered the broken body of his best friend into the grave, and Grian placed the flower in Bdubs’s hand. 

The two stood there for a moment, which could have been anywhere from one minute to one hour, until Etho made the move to start covering the body back up with dirt, and Grian followed in suit.

Here Lies Bdubs, the gravestone that Etho had messily carved said. My Fragile Flower.

Grian walked away, sniffling, without a sword in hand, and Etho watched him leave.

“Don’t,” Etho finally relented before Grian turned the corner.

Grian turned back to him, his face tear streaked and eyes with a hollow look.

“Why?” He asked, his voice sounding broken and distant.

Etho walked to him, and without much hesitation, pulled Grian to himself in an embrace.

“Don’t,” Etho responded, a tear silently falling from his eye and soaking into his mask. “Bdubs wouldn’t want it.”

Grian’s laugh was hollow and brittle, but the avian had returned Etho’s hug with impossible tightness.

“How do we know that? I’m better off dead anyway-”

More tears fell from Etho’s eyes. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Grian fell silent, and it wasn’t long before Etho felt him trembling from sobs. “I don’t know what to do,” Grian cried, clutching onto Etho tightly. “The bloodlust won’t go away and I-I don’t want to kill anyone else.”

“Okay,” Etho said, his voice quiet. And he did what he was too late to do with Bdubs.

He heard the chiming, and that’s when Grian really broke down. He sank to his knees, bringing Etho down with him, and sobbed and sobbed until Etho gathered him in his arms and held the avian while he cried.

“Why?” Grian asked, his voice shaking. “Why don’t you want me dead?”

Etho shrugged while still holding onto Grian tightly. “I don’t know.” 

Etho knew he was now yellow, he knew he was one step closer to death. But it was worth it. It was worth it if he could save another life.

They stayed there for however long it took for Grian to calm down. Etho didn’t mind. He enjoyed the closeness after Bdubs’s death. Even if it was from his killer.

Because they were all killers in these death games, weren’t they?

Eventually, tears stopped cascading down Grian’s face, and he had gone still. Etho looked down at the now yellow life, the same as him, and scooped up the avian in his arms, careful not to wake Grian, and walked… where, exactly?

His home was ruined. Courtesy of Grian, actually. He let his eyes flit around the broken and crumbling castle around him. There was no saving these memories.

So why did he feel so guilty leaving it? Why did he feel so guilty leaving the body of Bdubs to rot six feet under the bed of flowers?

Etho mentally shook himself. Yes, the snow castle held sentimental value, but it was not practical, nor quite frankly safe. The walls were unstable and could collapse any moment, proven true by part of the south wall already having fallen into a heap of snow at the base of the castle.

Etho carried Grian away from the fortress, and decided on mining into the side of a hill for the time being. Just to let Grian sleep, and Etho to rest. He still had those minor injuries to take care of, and he desperately needed sleep.

He quickly messaged Cleo on his comm that he was ok and would meet up with the others in twelve hours at most, before pocketing the device and setting Grian on the bed, pulling the covers over his limp body.

Etho didn’t have enough wool to make another, and considered going back to the snow fortress but he decided he couldn’t stand even the sight of that place anymore.

He opted for the stone floor, mainly because the bed was big enough for two to share comfortably but he didn’t want to intrude on Grian’s privacy like that.

He fell asleep with his back to the wall, and his chin tucked against his chest, just knowing he would have major back problems the next day but not really caring.

When Etho woke he was in the bed. He opened his eyes groggily, and rubbed them with the back of his hand, before sitting up and taking in his surroundings. He was still in the same little cave that he had mined out in the side of the hill, and he sighed, resting his head back against the pillow that it was already cushioned with.

“Wakey wakey!” Grian chirped, sounding considerably happier than he had the last he had spoken. Etho turned, and Grian had emerged from a passage that he had apparently dug out while Etho was asleep, and with what looked like a bowl of soup in his hands.

Etho made a move to stand up, but Grian gently pushed him back down, and handed him the soup and a spoon.

“Nope!” Grian said, “you, my friend, are on bedrest!” 

“What?” Etho asked, genuinely confused.

Grian crossed his arms, then pointed an accusatory finger at Etho. “You were injured.”

“Yeah,” Etho shrugged. “That happens all the time in these games.”

Grian rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but normal people actually do things about their injuries. You just let it go.”

“I didn’t really have the time to treat it,” Etho argued weakly, but Grian talked over him.

“You had plenty of time!”

“Bdubs usually did it for me,” Etho relented, his voice quiet.

Grian paused for a second, falling quiet, then he pushed the soup towards Etho.

“Sick people like soup, so you get some,” His voice seemed a little bit dimmer than earlier, and Etho felt a pang of guilt for causing that at mentions of Bdubs.

“I’m not sick, though,” Etho said, tilting his head questioningly at the dish.

“Just eat it,” Grian groaned. “I made it with love and all that.”

Etho shrugged, then moved his hand towards his mask. He froze, and glanced up at Grian, who looked back questioningly. 

“I’m gonna need to take my mask off to eat,” Etho said, a tad bit embarrassed.

“Right!” Grian exclaimed, and went to the passageway that he had dug out, disappearing around the corner. “I can’t see you!” he called, and Etho thanked him.

Surprisingly, the soup wasn’t that bad in total. Sure, the chicken that Grian had put in it was tough, and the broth suspiciously sweet, but it was tolerable.

Once Etho was finished, he put the soup on the floor next to the bed, and ignored the impulses to turn over in bed and let sleep engulf him again, but instead swung his legs over the side and let the blanket fall off him. He stood up, blinked the stars out of his vision, and made his way over to where Giran had gone.

He secured his mask back over his nose, then turned the corner, not knowing what to expect on the other side of it.

Grian had mined a staircase going down into what Etho guessed was a strip mine. He followed the stairs and branched off to the mine where he heard movement at the end of. There, he found Grian mining away at stone and diorite with an almost anger.

“Hey,” Etho greeted the other, who paused for a second to look at Etho.

“Hey…you should be in bed right now!” Grian exclaimed, hands of his hips in a way that greatly reminded Etho of a mother hen.

Etho raised an eyebrow. “I’m a grown man, I should be able to take care of myself. And I’m feeling fine.”

Grian opened his mouth to argue further, but Etho cut him off.

“As much as I love it here in our temporary home, we’re going to need to meet up with the greens,” Etho said, and Grian wrinkled his nose.

“Are they gonna even like me? I was just after them like less than a day ago.”

Etho shrugged. “They all know what it’s like to be red, I’m sure they’d understand.”

The unspoken question if they would hold Bdubs’s death against Grian hung in the air, and Etho decided to leave it unanswered.

“Come on,” Etho said, pulling Grian away from his mining and towards the stairs. “We’re not going to last here much longer without any food or sufficient supplies.”

Grian looked like it was taxing to nod, but he managed, albeit looking very against the idea of leaving their little sanctuary. 

“Are you done here? You’ve done quite a lot of mining, I see,” Etho told him, casting a glance around the strip mine.

Grian reluctantly nodded, then brushed by Etho. “I put some iron and redstone that I found in the chest up there, it’s smelted too.”

“How much?” Etho asked, following Grian back up the stairs.

Grian thought for a second. “About two stacks.”

“Two stacks?” Etho asked incredulously. “How long has it been?”

Grian glanced questioningly back at him. “You were knocked out for a while, twelve hours at least.”

Etho nearly choked. “Twelve hours? I told them we’d meet back up at that time!”

Grian raised an eyebrow. “So what? They can wait,” then before Etho could further argue, “you really needed that sleep, man. You looked exhausted earlier.”

Etho crossed his arms, but said no objections. It was true, now that he had actually slept for more than a couple hours, he felt rejuvenated and full of energy. Much like Bdubs was every morning. 

“We can split these,” Grian said, reaching the chest and reaching into to protrude two stacks of iron, handing Etho one.

Etho stepped back, waving the mineral off. “I can’t. That was your hard earned iron, you deserve to keep it.”

Grian pursed his lips. “Just think of it as a thank you for the life you gave me,” he looked deeply into Etho’s eyes. “You’re yellow now because of me.”

Etho’s gaze softened. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Grian’s lip wobbles, and Etho changes the topic. “Anyway, just keep the iron. Who knows, maybe I’ll ask for some later.”

They both knew that was never going to happen.

Etho glanced down at his communicator, and widened his eyes in surprise at the sheer amount of texts from one person.

Cleo. Etho was a little confused. He didn’t understand why they cared so much about him. He had only done wrong to her; after sending a tnt machine right to the Crastle in the last season, and in her final moments she was on the opposite side, and he had aided in her death.

So why did they feel the need to check on Etho? Why did she feel like she needed to text him, to make sure he was doing okay?

This was a mystery to Etho.

“Are we ready?” Grian asked, putting the iron in his inventory, and breaking the bed to bring with him.

Etho nodded, in the process of typing a quick response to Cleo’s worry.

“Should I tell them that you’re with me?”

Grian thought for a second. “They probably know, I mean who else could have given me a life? They’re all together, and you changed from green to yellow.”

“True,” Etho paused, glancing down at his communicator. “Cleo said that they’re in the green lives club.”

“Where’s that?” Grian asked, scratching the back of his head.

Etho thought for a moment. “A basement thing that Scott and Pearl made, it had supplies and a skeleton spawner.”

Grian took a deep breath. “Well, shall we go?”

Etho nodded, then looked back down to his comm, memorizing the coordinates that Cleo had sent him. 

“Let’s go, we have a group to join.”

Turns out the trip to the group was not as uneventful as Etho thought it would be. About halfway through the walk, he suddenly stiffened and stilled, Grian obviously confused but doing the same.

The avian opened his mouth to say something, but Etho put up a finger to his lips covered by the mask, shushing the other.

“I hear something,” Etho whispered, taking out his axe, and readying his shield.

Grian’s eyes widened and a nervous look took over his face. He shifted from foot to foot, sending glances at the trees surrounding the two.

“Ah, damnit!” somebody yelled, and Joel jumped out from the tree to Grian’s immediate right. Etho stepped back, his sword ready.

Joel put his hands up in a mock placating gesture. “I’m not even threatening you!” he exclaimed, and there was something in his voice that Etho found mildly disturbing. Some sort of insane undertone that he certainly did not want to encounter if he had the option.

“Right,” Etho replied, but kept the sword raised. Grian had a blood red potion in his hand. Etho could only guess it was harming, and Grian looked ready to throw it at his former teammate with no regrets.

“Seriously, man!” Tango. Etho spun around to his other side, and Tango was emerging from the brush.

Etho’s eyes darted from the two red lives, then to Grian, who had a scared yet defiant look on his face. He subconsciously moved closer to Grian, feeling weirdly protective over the avian.

“We just wanna talk,” Joel said, and took a step closer to the two yellows. They backed up defensively, but then remembered Tango being on their other side.

“What do you want?” Grian yelled, his shield held out in front of him.

“A life,” Joel said, then at the pointed look from Tango, “two lives.”

“No way,” Etho immediately said.

“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Tango said, idly checking his fingernails. “I mean, you wouldn’t even give your life to Bdubs. You know how big of a surprise it was when you gave it to Grian, Bdubs’s killer.”

Etho gave Tango an icy glare. “Is this how you felt when Skizz died? I gotta say, you were pretty distraught. Distraught enough to punch a tnt minecart coming your way. Now that was a funny death, not worth a life, though.”

Tango made a growl deep in his throat, and Etho merely shrugged, a smug smile placed on his lips.

“Just give us the lives, and nobody here has to die!” Joel said, his voice sounding friendly, yet Etho knew a threat lay somewhere within those words.

Grian scoffed, “It wouldn’t matter if we died fighting you or not, we would be red anyway. I prefer my chances fighting you.”

“Have it your way, then,” Joel said, and ran at Grian, axe raised. Simultaneously, Tango charged towards Etho, and Etho was forced to turn his attention away from Grian.

Etho met Tango halfway, and ducked as Tango slashed his sword through the air where Etho’s neck had just been. Etho sidestepped Tango’s attack, and swung at the blaze hybrid, catching his shield in the head of the axe, momentarily breaking the shield.

Etho took his chance, and jumped at Tango, switching to his sword, but Tango had had the same thought process, and the two were caught in a sword lock, both pressing as hard as they could to disarm the other.

“You’re going to die! You’re going to die just like Bdubs, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Tango hissed, his voice low and dangerous. 

Etho didn’t respond, instead breaking the lock and ducking under Tango’s blade to kick his legs out from underneath him. Tango fell, and Etho slashed his axe down, burying the blade in Tango’s stomach.

Tango gasped. He coughed, red spit lining his lips, and stared at the axe in his midsection. Red eyes were blown wide and pupils dilated, turning to stare at Etho, whose face was streaked with Tango’s blood.

Tango’s head fell back down to the grass, which was quickly becoming stained maroon, and gasped like a fish out of water.

“Killing your- fellow teammate- aye?” Tango managed, taking gasps of air between his words.

Etho looked down at his former teammate, keeping his eyes void of emotion. 

He ignored the blood staining his hands, and the blood on his axe, which was still buried in Tango’s stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the apology almost falling deaf to Tango’s ears.

Tango took a few seconds, before his graying eyes met Etho’s bright yellow ones.

“I was glad- team BEST -Skizz-” was all Tango managed before his body convulsed one last time, and he fell still, his eyes glassing over, lady death taking him in her arms.

Etho stared at his fallen teammate friend , before turning back to the fight that was still raging behind him. 

Joel had Grian pinned against the ground, a manic gleam in his eyes and a wide smile on his face, with blood running down a cut that crossed the bridge of his nose.

Grian’s yellow eyes were wide with fear and panic, and he was struggling under Joel’s vice-like grip. 

Etho started to run towards the pair, but there was nothing that needed to be done to interfere. Just as Joel protruded his sword, a yell sounded from the bushes and Pearl came sprinting out of it, diamond sword raised high, and ran straight for Joel and Grian.

Joel turned to her, giving Grian the opportunity to push the red life off of him, and kicking Joel in the chest, sending him falling backwards, where he had to roll out of the way of Pearl’s first vicious attack for his life.

Etho ran to Grian, and crouched next to him to check for injuries.

“Is that…” Grian trailed away, gesturing to the blood on Etho’s face.

“It’s Tango’s,” Etho said, and to his surprise his voice sounded with regret. 

“You got him?” Grian’s eyes lit up, and he looked over Etho’s shoulder to where the blaze hybrid lay.

Etho nodded, then turned his attention back to Grian.

“Are you okay? Do you have any injuries?”

Grian shook his head, then thought for a second, then nodded. 

“My arm,” he said, and Etho turned his head to Grian’s right arm. Blood was sluggishly leaking out of a deep looking cut in a diagonal slice across his bicep and elbow. 

Etho rummaged in his inventory for a healing potion, handed it to Grian, then produced bandages.

“If you can’t roll the sleeve up, you might need to take the sweater off,” Etho said, gesturing towards the cut. 

He saw Grian redden, and Etho nearly laughed at the blush spreading across the avian’s face.

“So, do you want to get this treated?” Etho asked, holding out the bandages. “Or do you want to do it yourself?”

Grian hesitated, then pushed the bandages back towards Etho. “You can do it.”

He gingerly took his arm out of his sleeve, wincing as the fabric probably caught on the wound, and lifted the sweater over his head.

Etho tried not to stare. He really did, but with Grian taking off his shirt right in front of him, it was a little hard not to.

Grian wasn’t ripped. That much made sense. But he did have lean muscles, and the beginning of a six pack.

Etho quickly turned his eyes to Grian’s arm, feeling a slight blush of his own heating his face.

He allowed Grian to drink the health potion, then he wrapped the wound in the sterile white medical tape.

“Done,” he said, and Grian hurried to put his sweater back on quite quickly considering his newly wrapped injury.

“You guys okay?” Pearl asked, coming out from where she had chased Joel off, stray leaves and twigs twisted in her long, brunette hair.

Etho nodded, then helped Grian to his feet, dusting himself off.

“Where’s Joel?” Grian immediately asked, casting a nervous look around.

“Gone,” Pearl sighed, sounding disappointed. “He managed to get away.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Etho said, patting her shoulder. “He’s slippery.”

“Yeah,” Pearl answered, but didn’t sound entirely convinced. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Etho saw Grian send Pearl a confused look.

Pearl glanced back at the avian, tilting her head back. “What? Is something on my face?”
“Why’d you save me?” Grian asked, and the question seemed so abrupt, that Etho had to look over at him as well.

“What do you mean?” Pearl asked, obviously confused.

“Why don’t you hate me?” 

Pearl fell silent, thinking. “Why would I?” she asked after a few moments of consideration. “I mean, I don’t exactly know what the red haze is like, but from what I’ve heard it’s really bad. So I don’t blame you for any of that, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Grian’s eyes were sparkly, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, basking in the acceptance that Pearl had just put forth for him.

“We should get back,” Etho said, eyeing the setting sun.

“Right,” Pearl agreed, then cast a sideways glance at Tango’s body, which seemed to glow in the setting sun. “I saw the death message, good job.”

Etho couldn’t manage a smile. “Yeah, thanks.”

Etho and Grian followed Pearl back to the base, broke into the dirt obstructing it from the outside world, and the three walked down the long staircase to where Scott, Ren, Cleo, and Martyn were talking.

“Hi, guys!” Pearl waved a greeting, reaching the bottom step.

Scott cheerfully waved back, while the other three seemed more on guard. Ren and Martyn sent cold glares towards Grian, while Cleo spared Grian her wrath, but gave Etho a rather aggressive questioning look.

“I’m going to need to have a word with Etho,” Cleo said, and without any other explanation took his arm and led him into the adjacent room. 

Once they were out of sight and hearing of the others, Cleo turned on him, her gaze angry and confused.

“Why did you bring him here? And most importantly, why the fuck did you give him a life? You’re a yellow life!”

“Why do you care about me so much?” Etho exclaimed, the question he had been thinking falling off his tongue without his consent.

Cleo’s face softened, she paused for a moment. “I think,” she began, “I trust you because Bdubs trusted you.”

Etho could not speak. His mouth was glued shut, but he stared deeply into Cleo’s eyes, and understanding reflected back at him.

“I know how bad he was doing after my death,” Cleo said, sounding guilty. “I heard from Impulse. Bdubs wasn’t really in his right mind during his last hours. I-I don’t want that happening to you, and I’m sorry, but-but I don’t want you to die too.”

Etho was rendered speechless, and Cleo waited patiently for him to gather his words.

“I don't know why I gave Grian the life,” Etho admitted, looking away.

Cleo groaned, running a hand over their face.

“I just felt like I needed to!” Etho said, imploring her to see his reasoning. “He was gonna kill himself, Cleo.”

Cleo looked angry for a moment, then sympathy washed on her face.

“Now what? Is he just going to run from his problems like always?”

“No! When I fell asleep he stayed, he stayed and got us two stacks of iron!” Etho felt defensive over the avian. He wasn’t sure why he had the urge to defend his best friend’s killer, but he did.

Cleo seemed surprised. “Did he actually?”

Etho nodded.

“Huh, didn’t know he had it in him to be a good person.”

“Can you lay off him for a second?” Etho asked, his voice taking on an irritated tone.

“Why are you even fucking defending him? He killed Bdubs. Bdubs is gone, out of the series. And that’s Grian’s fault.”

No it's not, Etho wanted to argue. It’s my fault. 

“We should get back to the others,” he said, his tone unusually icy. 

Cleo seemed a little hurt, and she swept by him without another glance. Etho looked regretfully after them, and opened his mouth to say something, but words failed him. 

He shortly followed Cleo out to the others, where she was in a discussion with Scott and Pearl, and pointedly made to ignore Etho’s presence. Etho shrugged it off, and went to where Grian was awkwardly standing, subjected to the mistrusting and suspicious eyes of Ren and Martyn.

“So,” Etho said, breaking the thick tension. “Are we sleeping here? Or are we all just gonna be insomniacs, because that’s fine by me if we are.”

Martyn shrugged. “They didn’t specify. I’m guessing we are. It’s the only safe place with all the reds roaming around,” he then flashed Etho a smile, “good job for the kill on Tango, by the way.”

Etho just nodded his thanks. He was becoming sick of people congratulating him on killing betraying his teammate. 

“Guys,” Scott waved them all over. “Here’s the plan. We all need rest, and food. That wither fight was intense, and we’ve been on the run from the reds ever since. We’re going to need to be fully rested before attacking them again. Luckily, we’ve managed to get one down,” he nodded towards Etho, “and we outnumber them. But there is no saying what any of them will do.”

“How many are there left?” Ren questioned, slightly raising his hand.

“Well, we have Joel, Bigb…” Cleo trailed off, thinking. 

“Scar,” Grian said, his voice bitter. 

“Is that it?” Martyn asked, ticking the three reds on his fingers. “We’re over double them in size!”

Etho didn’t follow his optimism. Sure, they had the numbers. Sure, they had the lives where they could die at least once before following their fellow players and become bloodthirsty and hostile. But Etho didn’t feel good about the situation. It wasn’t the reds fault that they were at that life, and Etho found it the slightest bit unfair if the greens teamed up on them.

But he stayed silent. Because if there was anything Etho could do well, it was survive.

“I have a plan,” Ren said, and the other three looked at him, intrigued. “Now, it may not work, but if it does, it’ll be brilliant.”

“Tell me more,” Cleo walked to where Ren had various papers strewn over the dining table, Grian and Etho not too far behind.

“So, you guys know about bubblevators, right?”

“Only too well,” Cleo shuddered, and Etho saw a flash of guilt pass over Grian’s face.

“Anyway,” Ren continued, oblivious to the two, “if we set these up, and you three hide in them while I lead the reds to you guys…”

“We can jump out and sneak attack them!” Grian finished.

“Exactly!” Ren said, smiling. 

“Wouldn’t that be a bit risky though?” Etho asked, keeping his real intentions for the intervention private. He felt attacking the reds without warning was unfair. 

Since when did Etho evolve morals? Etho never had a right and wrong when it came simply to surviving. He was a survivor, nothing more, nothing less. So why did he feel so much empathy for those only a misstep away from certain death?

“Maybe,” Ren admitted, and traces of doubt flooded his voice. “But if we do pull it off, it would eliminate two reds!”

“But then you would be red,” Grian argued, crossing his arms.

“Who said I was the one dying in this scenario?” Ren exclaimed.

“Quit bickering,” Ceo said, and her voice sounded so much like a stern mom that Ren and Grian fell silent immediately, and Etho had to contain himself from laughing.

“Anyway,” Etho said, breaking the silence. “It could theoretically work, but it could also have a lot of flaws, such as them knowing that we were there, and planning a trap for our trap.”

Ren waved him off with a hand. “I honestly doubt they’re smart enough to think of that, I mean it’s Scar we’re dealing with here.”

“Scar’s pretty smart when he wants to be,” Grian’s voice was barely audible, but Etho glanced over to him. He still had his arms crossed, but seemed to have shrunk, leaning against the wall and not making eye contact with anybody.

“Is he?” Cleo asked, her voice genuinely confused. “Like trap wise…?”

Grian nodded, still not looking at anybody.

“Right!” Ren said, apparently attempting to break the awkward tension. “So, I will lead whatever reds I can find to bubblevators we place in the ground, where you three are waiting to jump out and kill them!”

“Don’t we need a code word?” Cleo asked.

“Banana!” Etho said without hesitation, causing Cleo to facepalm.

“Sure,” Ren said, seemingly confused by the odd choice of word. “Banana.”

“When are we doing this?” Grian asked.

Ren smiled, and it reminded Etho so much of the Red King from Third life that it sent chills down his spine. “Tomorrow,” the wolf hybrid answered. “We strike tomorrow.”

Cleo nodded, and left, Grian and Etho trailing loosely in her wake.

“D’you think this is gonna work?” Grian asked, glancing up at Etho.

Etho shrugged wordlessly, before sparing a glance back at Ren. “To be completely honest, I think Ren’s gone a little over the top.”

Grian tilted his head, thinking. Slowly, he nodded. “He could be boogey.”

“That’s a possibility, but boogey can’t kill red names, he knows this.”

Grian sighed. “Or this could be a plot to kill one of us.”

“If it is, stay on your toes,” Etho replied, his hand subconsciously drifting to the sword hanging at his side.

“You too,” Grian said, before splitting off from Etho and walking towards where the skeleton spawner was.

Scott had said his goodbyes at the end of the day. Apparently, he had been the boogeyman all week, and had refused to kill in favor of turning red.

Etho marveled at his loyalty. It took some guts to rather sacrifice a life than betray his teammates. Sour flashbacks to Bdubs flashed behind Etho’s eyes, and he turned away from the tearful farewells.

Scott had made his choice like Etho had made his. Only one regretted it, and the other didn’t.

The next day had rolled around, and Etho’s heart was racing with nerves. He constantly found himself picking at his fingernails, and his eyes darted around nervously every time a loud noise presented itself.

“Would you calm down for a second?” Cleo groaned, grabbing his arm to stop his pacing.

“Boogey’s being chosen,” Etho said, despair tinting his words. “One of us is going to be the boogeyman, then either me, Ren, or Grian could go red!”

“Relax, they’ll probably target one of the green names,” Cleo assured him, but it did nothing to help with the itchiness that seemed to never leave Etho’s skin.

“But what if they don’t?” Etho asked, cringing at how desperate his voice sounded.

“Then they don’t,” Cleo replied, and Etho almost missed it due to how quiet her words had been.

Boogeyman is being chosen in five minutes.

“We should meet up with the others,” Etho said, casting a nervous glance around the room.

Cleo nodded, slightly exasperated. “Just don’t freak out on me when somebody dies.”

“Sure,” Etho responded, slightly distracted.

The two entered the main room, where the rest of the members in the green life club were chatting amongst themselves, save for Grian who still wasn’t entirely welcome into the group.

Cleo drifted off to Pearl, while Etho walked up to Grian.

“You know, I’ve never been boogey,” Grian said, causing Etho to glance over incredulously at him.

“Really?” Etho responded, shocked.

Grian nodded.

“Let’s not make a first, then,” Etho said. Right after his words as if on cue, bright red letters appeared in front of him, counting down.

3

2

1

You are the boogeyman

Etho froze, then schooled his expression to one with much more relief.

“Not the boogeyman,” he said, to Grian who nodded. 

“Me neither,” the avian said, and somehow Etho knew it was no lie. Perhaps the immense relief practically radiating off of Grian was why, or the way he visibly relaxed, untensing his muscles.

“Well, anybody want to come forward and admit it?” Martyn asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the stone wall.

Nobody spoke. Etho kept his mouth firmly shut, instead relaxing his posture and glancing around at his comrades. No. His temporary comrades.

His comrades were dead. 

Skizz, Tango, Bdubs. Team BEST was gone, leaving only Etho left to pick up the pieces of the ruin. 

“No one?” Ren questioned, then scoffed. “Wel, it’s someone here. Or two someones.” He sent a suspicious look over Cleo, Pearl, Grian, and Etho.

“How do we know it’s not one of you?” Pearl asked, crossing her arms, and Etho silently agreed with her.

Martyn narrowed. “That’s awfully suspicious of you, Pearl. Shifting the blame to others.”

“It’s a valid question,” Etho relented, backing Pearl up. 

Pearl shot him a grateful look, before turning her now venomous attention back to Martyn. 

“No, it’s just an observation. You’re immediately judging and accusing people before even taking into account that that is hella suspicious. You’re even being hypocritical by saying that, you were the one to immediately blame others. How do you know that Ren isn’t lying?” She pointed an accusatory finger at Martyn. “How do we know that it’s not you? And you merely lied to Ren to throw suspicion off yourself?”

“Okay guys!” Cleo said, clapping her hands together in a sad attempt to break the tension. “Why don’t we have this discussion later, and work on the plan that Ren has developed? Martyn and Pearl will need to not hate each other for this to be able to work.”

Pearl sent an icy glare towards Martyn, who returned the gesture full force, and Etho narrowed his eyes at the two.

Either they were both incredibly paranoid (which was a very real option), or at least one of them was the boogeyman.

It was highly unlikely it was both of them, as one of the other boogeyman was Etho, but there was still the slim chance that both of them had the curse weighing down their shoulders.

Etho decided he would have to keep an eye out for the two until the full week was over, and either they made their move or decided to follow in the footsteps of Scott.

“Yes,” Grian said, his voice growing in volume. “We need to kill off the reds, so first let’s not be at each other’s throats, that sound good?”

Pearl rolled her eyes, but nodded, and Martyn sent one last scathing look towards Pearl before dropping his gaze and nodding.

“Perfect,” Cleo said, then raised her eyebrows at Ren, the latter clearing his throat and walking to the middle of the room towards the table where he had set out his plan.

“Right,” he began, and ushered them all over to the table. “Cleo, Etho, and Grian will be hiding under the ground, while I will lead a red name or two over to where they are hiding, and when I say the codeword, Banana, they will come up the bubblevator and attack.”

“What will we be doing?” Pearl asked, her eyes running over the plans. 

Ren smiled, and for the second time, Etho felt a chill run down his spine.

“You, my friends, will be setting up traps all over the server. Everywhere, trapped chests, pressure plates in doors, everywhere you can think of.”

Pearl seemed doubtful. “Shouldn’t we be there to help you?” 

Ren shrugged her concerns off with a wave of his hand. “Too many people there would be suspicious. We already have the four of us, and somebody needs to keep eyes on the reds that we didn’t lure into our trap.”

Martyn’s lips were pursed, but he nodded, as did Pearl with a slight roll of her eyes.

“Right, are we ready?” Cleo asked, brandishing their enchanted axe with a fierce look in their eyes.

“We need to do preparations first, right?” Etho asked, sending a glance at Ren.

The wolf hybrid nodded, his eyes flitting over his plans one last time before turning away.

“Alright laddies, let’s get ready.”

Etho was bored. That was the only way to explain his emotions as he leaned against the dirt wall of his bubblevator, waiting for Ren to return with a red life or two in tow.

He picked at the hilt of his sword, before switching to his fingernails, then back to his sword. 

Finally, Ren’s distant voice came into earshot and Etho perked up, weapon immediately readied and shield held high.

It sounded like Bigb, who had fallen right into their trap. 

Etho waited, and grew steadily more nervous as Bigb’s voice took on a suspicious, then accusatory tone.

He didn’t have to wait for Ren to shout the codeword. Etho was already halfway up the bubblevator, hearing sounds of attacking, when Ren screamed the word that brought back so many memories of tnt cannons, and BEST.

“Banana! Banana!”

Etho shot out of the water, his sword raised, and spun around, talking in his surroundings.

Bigb was engaged in a vicious battle with Ren, who was holding his own, but by the way Bigb was swinging his sword at Ren with no mercy in those shining red eyes, Etho knew Ren wouldn’t last long without assistance.

Before Etho could help Ren, an enderpearl landed in front of him, and he barely had a second before Scar slashed his axe where Etho was just moments before.

Etho dodged another attack, holding up his shield, but Scar disabled it, and a flash of panic crossed Etho’s mind before Scar was swinging again.

Etho barely had time to squeeze his eyes shut in preparation for the deadly blow, but it never came. He opened his eyes to the sight of Grian standing in front of him, shield blocking Scar’s attacks, and with a look in his eyes that Etho would normally see in a red life.

“Etho,” Grian said, and his voice was deadly calm. “Go help Ren and Cleo.”

“I-”

“Go!” Grian ducked below Scar, and came up behind him, slashing at the back of Scar’s knee. 

Etho took a step back away from the battle, his brain and heart clashing. Surprisingly, Etho allowed his heart to win.

He ran. He left Grian to fight with his former teammate, but Ren and Cleo needed no assistance.

With the telltale pinging from Etho’s communicator, Bigb was gone, his blood streaking Cleo’s axe, and a look of triumph decorating her face.

Etho barely spared her a glance before turning back to Grian, and another ping sounded.

Fear flooded Etho’s heart, but Grian was fine.

No, actually. Grian was not fine.

The avian was on his knees in front of the corpse of the wizard, his wings tucked close around himself and his arms protectively crossed over his chest.

His eyes were wide, and they seemed glued to the body of his former best friend in front of him.

Blood streaked the sword that lay by Grian’s side, discarded like trash to the red stained grass.

Etho hesitantly took a step towards Grian, but he didn’t move. There was a broken look in his eyes that terrified Etho, because it reminded him of how he looked in the stream’s water after Bdubs’s death.

Etho avoided making actual contact with the body, or the avian, but he knelt next to Grian, and stayed in silence with him, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Grian didn’t talk. He didn’t move. For a few seconds, Etho was worried that Grian wasn’t even breathing. 

“Grian,” Etho tried softly, and Grian finally turned to him.

Grian’s breaths turned into borderline hyperventilation, and Etho slightly lifted his arm, inviting Grian, and asking a question simultaneously.

Without further hesitance, Grian flung himself into Etho’s arms, and Etho could feel the shorter man shaking.

“It’s okay,” Etho murmured, not exactly sure how to comfort him correctly. That was always Bdubs’s job. He was the people person.

“No,” Grian said, and his voice sounded hollow. “I’ve killed so many .”

“Grian-”

“No, you don’t understand, Etho. I killed them. I killed them, and they’re gone. T-Jimmy, Mumbo, Bdubs, Scar- They’re all gone!” Grian shouted the last part, clutching Etho like a lifeline, refusing to let go.

Etho slightly turned his head to see Cleo and Ren pointedly making conversation with their backs turned, giving Etho and Grian all the privacy they needed.

Etho silently thanked them, and turned back to the avian in his arms.

“I can’t comfort. It’s never been something I was good at. But trust me in this, don’t feel guilty. Okay? There’s nothing you can do now except live on for them, and apologize to them or something and get them all flowers back on Hermitcraft and Empires. But you can’t give up now”

Etho let his words of mock comfort die out, allowing the assurances time to sink in.

“Get them flowers?” Grian asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Etho nodded, and Grian buried his face deeper into Etho’s fluffy white hood, his whole form trembling.

“Let’s go back for now and reconvene. How does that sound?”

Grian nodded, and let Etho pull them both up, and Etho found his mobility obstructed by Grian’s large parrot wings now wrapped around the both of them instead of just him.

Etho didn’t have the heart to move the protective appendages, and instead settled for allowing Grian to stick close to his side, and walked towards Cleo and Ren, who turned to him, keeping their eyes avoided from the avian.

“Go back now?” Cleo asked.

Etho nodded, then pointed with his head at Grian’s dropped sword. “Can one of you pick that up, please?”

Ren nodded sympathetically, and walked over to the weapon.

“You okay to walk?” Etho asked Grian, keeping his voice quiet.

Grian wordlessly nodded, and the four began their trek back to the green life base.

“-oors will shut, and they’ll be trapped.” 

Etho hadn’t been to eavesdrop. He really hadn’t.

But as he passed through the main hallway, and heard voices in a room branching off of it, he just had to listen in onto whatever was considered secretive around there.

“Then what’ll happen?” Cleo asked, her voice sounding excited.

“Big boom,” Pearl answered, giggling at the end.

Cleo gasped. “You’re boogey!”

Etho could hear the sinister smile in Pearl’s words. “Yep! Hopefully I’ll get all of them. Just don’t go in there when I lead the others in.”

Etho didn’t hear Cleo’s response. He backed away from the room, his footsteps uneven, then quickening, panic overtaking him.

He needed to get to Grian. He needed to. Etho would not allow another partner to turn red.

He tore down the hallways of the intricate mock labyrinth that was his temporary base in search of the avian. 

His eyes frantically flitted around him, his breath quickening and heart pounding. 

Etho then heard Pearl’s voice, he slowed his pace, and attempted to even out his breathing to make it sound like he hadn’t been sprinting the hallways.

What she was saying…”I have something to show you guys!” Her voice was falsely cheerful, but it proved to be a sufficient facade because Etho heard the agreements of Martyn, Ren, and…Grian.

Etho turned the corner, and forced his features to look curious instead of suspicious.

“Ah, Etho!” Pearl said, pausing in her stride to glance back at him. “Just on time, I have something to show you all!”

“Awfully suspicious,” Etho said, with a nervous laugh at the end. 

Pearl rolled her eyes. “If I was boogey, I would have done it by now.”

Martyn shrugged. “She did have multiple times to get me earlier, I don’t think it’s her.”

Ren nodded. “I concur, she did have multiple chances on me as well.

Grian just shrugged, but his eyes gave his apprehension away.

“Come on, then,” Pearl smiled, and led the way into a large room. Grian followed the boogey, so Etho had no choice but to chase after the avian.

“Grian,” he said in a voice that was barely a whisper.

“I know you’re suspicious of her-”

“I’ve prepared this for us,” Pearl was saying, making her way behind a D.J. 's station that was suspiciously placed behind a wall. “So we can forget about death for a moment, and just relax with some music!”

Grian drifted off, and Etho internally groaned in frustration.

“Grian!” He hissed, actually grabbing Grian’s upper arm and forcing the other to turn to him.

“What?” Grian’s voice sounded annoyed, causing Etho to almost flinch at the harsh tone.

“I-Pearl was telling Cleo about how she rigged this and is going to shut the doors and lock us in.”

Grian’s eyes widened, and he sent a glance towards Pearl, who had safely shut the door, then at Ren and Martyn, who were still oblivious to the situation at hand.

“Shit! We have to get out of here!” 

Grian sidestepped towards the door, and Etho kept his eyes on Pearl, who felt his eyes on her and looked up, a flash of purple lighting up her eyes and a sneer twisting her lips.

“Go!” Etho shouted, pushing Grian forward.

The avian needed no more persuasion, and sprinted towards the entryway, Etho hot on his heels.

Grian barely passed the doorway before pistons sounded, and the stone on either side of the entry contracted, shutting off Etho’s access to the hallway.

“Etho!” Etho heard Grian shout, his voice desperate.

Etho stared at the stone for a second, before turning back to Pearl, his eyes narrowed.

It was fine. Grian was safe, and wouldn’t be turning red because of a stupid boogey trap.

Pearl wasted no time before slamming her hand down on something on her station, and the hissing of tnt filled the room, drowning out the jovial music.

Ren and Martyn shouted simultaneously.

“What-?”

“Dude!”

Etho barely had time to put up his shield before the floor exploded.

The explosion deafened him, leaving a loud ringing echoing in his ears. But drowning out the ringing, a scream ricocheted off the walls, then a barely audible pinging from his comm, and Etho was engulfed in silence.

The quiet was overwhelming. Etho was desperate to shout, to scream, to say something. 

But his throat contracted, and no words left his mouth, intelligible or not. 

The ringing was still there, dominating all other sounds, and it was beginning to make Etho’s head pound.

Etho squinted through the haze that seemed to fall over his vision to the wreckage of the dance floor in front of him. 

Blood splattered one wall, and Martyn was on the other, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

“Ren!” Martyn’s voice broke, staring down at his communicator.

Etho’s heart twinged in sympathy for the wolf hybrid, but instead of offering his condolences to Martyn, he turned his attention to Pearl.

She was laughing maniacally, and Etho’s hand itched to grab his axe. For once, he let the bloodthirstiness of boogeyman consume him, and he made his move.

The death was not a spectacle, but Etho felt a smile that was very unlike him curling his lips, the look going unseen under his mask.

Etho casually strolled up to Pearl, walking past the bloodied wall of what used to be Ren, and opened the door, abruptly cutting off her laughter.

“Etho?” She asked, and to Etho’s delight she appeared nervous. 

“Hi, Pearl!” Etho said cheerfully. Too cheerfully.

Pearl must have noticed it, because a nervous look took over the gleeful one that had filled her eyes seconds ago.

“You okay?” Pearl asked, a smile failing her.

Etho turned to his side, sliding out the disc that was currently in the jukebox, and placed his own.

Pearl’s face paled at the sound of the familiar disc now resonating through the room.

C418 - 13.

Etho's smile widened as the chilling and oddly broken sounding disc filled his ears, its familiar tone drowning out the ringing in seconds.

“Etho…” Pearl said, taking a step backwards, her eyes wide in surprise. “You wouldn’t, right?”

“You’re on green,” Etho said, his axe now resting in his hands. “So it wouldn’t matter anyway, right? But for poor Ren here…” Etho let his voice fade off, his eyes drifting to the bloodstain on the wall. “Well, Ren’s red now, isn’t he?”

Before Pearl- or quite frankly Etho- was aware, Etho had his axe swung in a large arc, and the second the blade hit Pearl’s neck and blood began to spurt out Pearl disappeared with a ping in the chat.

Etho stared down at his bloodstained weapon, then at his hands which were similarly red, the bloodlust fading from his vision as the bright green letters appeared in front of him.

You are cured!

“Etho!” Etho heard the door to the station bang open, and Etho turned to see Grian running up to him, and pull him into a tight hug, apparently not knowing or caring about the blood speckled all over Etho’s front.

Etho was stunned for a second, not entirely sure how to reciprocate the action in the moment.

He weakly wrapped his arms around Grian, careful to avoid the avian’s wings.

“Are you okay?” Grian asked, holding Etho out in front of him, and checking him for injuries.

Etho shrugged out of his grip, slightly confused about the amount of concern that shone in Grian’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, putting away his axe without bothering to wipe off the blood.

“Are you sure?” Grian asked, his eyes still as worried as ever, his hands hovering in the space between them. “That sounded like a big blast.”

Etho nodded. “It was, and it got Ren, and he’s red now.”

Grian grimaced, his gaze cutting to the red on the wall, before turning back to Etho.

“I heard Pearl, she seemed pretty mad. Do you wanna apologize?”

“I guess,” Etho replied, and he and Grian left the station. 

Martryn was no longer on the dance floor, presumably left to give Ren his items. 

Grian and Etho exited the room, and walked down the hallway, looking for Pearl. Apparently, Pearl was looking for them too.

Cleo came around the corner first, their mouth open to probably voice a warning, when Pearl came storming up behind them and walked up to Etho.

Etho wasn’t sure what to expect, but what he wasn’t anticipating was Pearl to slam him into the wall with such ferocity that reminded him of Tango when Bdubs had done a thing similar to what Etho had just done.

Her sword was at his throat in a second, and he stilled under the threat of the blade.

“Pearl, get off him!” Gian shouted angrily. “You’re not red!”

“Really? But I feel like it!” Pearl’s voice sounded far from sane, her yellow eyes shining with anger and a look that wasn’t entirely there.

“Pearl,” Cleo said, her voice firm. 

“Just this once?” Pearl asked, a manic smile splitting her face. Her sword pressed deeper into Etho’s throat, and he could feel the bite of the cold blade cutting his skin, drawing a thin line of blood.

“Pearl!” Grian exclaimed. “You can’t! It’s against the rules!”

Pearl gave Etho one last look that was dripping with venom, and she reliquenced her hold on him, allowing him to slip from her back to Grian. 

“When I’m red, you’re gonna be the first to go,” Pearl , and her voice betrayed no hint of amusement like it usually held, no joking quip to go along with her words, just pure coldness and anger resonating in her harsh words.

Etho stared at her for a second, then two, then sighed. “Okay, Pearl. You do that.”

Pearl blinked, seemingly taken aback by his lack of a reaction, then sent him a sneer. “Oh, I will. I’ll take your yellow life, and last life.”

“Pearl, stop!” It was Cleo’s turn to stop, and this time she sounded genuinely angry at her teammate. “We have to work together here! What has gotten into you?”

Surprisingly, Pearl paused, something in her eyes shifting, realization maybe, before her yellow eyes seemed to dull and something in her deflated, the fight draining from her bones.

“Right,” the new yellow life finally said. “Right, sorry, Etho. Hypocritical of me, right?”

Etho didn’t answer, and Pearl took his silence as agreement. 

“So,” Grian said, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Are we done making threats? Like Cleo said, we have to work together here.”

Suddenly, four pings rang throughout the room, and each person glanced down at their separate communicator.

Inthelittlewood was slain by Smajor1995

Cleo hissed out a breath and a curse, glancing up at the other three. “We need to find him, he’s still yellow. They could be trying to go for two kills in a row.”

Pearl nodded, but before they could do anything, a curse sounded nearby in a distinct british accent.

“He respawned here!” Grian exclaimed, then took off down the hallway, Etho shortly after him.

They opened the door to where the curse had sounded, and found Martyn sitting up in his bed, looking thoroughly distraught.

“Martyn?” Etho asked cautiously.

“Ren- he- he attacked me,” Martyn managed, his yellow eyes sparkling. 

Etho pursed his lips, and exchanged a look with Grian.

Cleo and Pearl appeared behind the two, looking over their shoulders to the sight of Martyn.

“We need a game plan,” Cleo decided, then ran off to the table where Ren’s plan for the bubblevators still lay spread across the wooden surface.

She quickly brushed them to the side with no real care in their actions, and snagged a mostly empty paper and turned it over. They motioned for everyone to crowd around the table, and so the other two did, leaving only Martyn in the room still sitting in his bed.

Etho hesitated, glancing back at him, before sending a gaze towards where Pearl and Grian were talking to Cleo.

“You coming?” Etho asked, his voice quiet, sympathy for the blonde twisting in his gut.

Martyn slowly nodded, then got to his feet, his movement uncoordinated and sluggish. He walked by Etho, and to the group, and Etho followed him, understanding Martyn’s apparent coldness. Etho had been in a similar state when Bdubs had turned red all those times. Not as outwardly, but Tango and Skizz could testify, Etho became closed off and even more quiet than usual during those times of grieving.

“Nobody can go off alone,” Cleo was saying, barely acknowledging the arrival of the other two before plowing on. “That’s how they got Martyn, and there’s no doubt that they would probably use that same strategy.”

Etho shifted uncomfortably. He had elected to stand close to Grian, but the proximity to so many people for so long was beginning to make his skin itch. He just felt wrong, and Cleo’s idea of not going off on their own was becoming less and less appetizing by the second.

“What should we do if we get separated?” Grian asked.

Cleo thought for a moment, and Pearl answered for them. “Try your best to lose whoever’s chasing you, then circle back here. But they can’t know where our base is, so make sure you’re absolutely sure you’ve lost them.”

Grian nodded, as did Cleo, and Martyn didn’t react. Etho wondered if he was even processing the words being spoken, or if his mind was still drifting elsewhere, perhaps in the bright red gaze of a specific red.

Just as Pearl said this, the ceiling exploded.

Etho blamed himself. He should have known that Ren knew where their base was. The fact that the wolf hybrid was red…quite frankly had completely slipped his mind.

Moreover, the fact that Ren had died, respawned as a bloodthirsty killing machine, then shortly assisted in the murder of his closest not yet dead friend on this server, wasn’t even enough for Etho to put two and two together.

Ren was not on their side. And if Etho knew anything about being red, he knew that past alliances and friendships meant nothing in the face of murder and bloodlust.

Debris rained down on the five of them gathered. A particularly large chunk dropped like a stone, and struck Cleo in her right temple. She crumpled, and disappeared into the thick and heavy dust that soon consumed all of Etho’s vision.

One thought came to his mind. One thought only.

“Grian?” He yelled through the chaos of crumbling rock and dirt broken by the occasional shouts. “Grian, where are you?”

Etho felt something grip his arm, and he spun, his sword immediately raised. But he froze at the sight of Grian. Dust covered the avian from head to toe, the gray coating his bright red sweater an ugly shade of diluted maroon and stuck to the fabric like vice, and luckily, he seemed mostly unharmed, albeit a small cut running across his cheekbone below his right eye.

“Come on!” Grian shouted, his grip on Etho’s arm never deterring, and he dragged Etho away from the crumbling ceiling, and through a random hallway. There was no telling which direction they were going due to the grayness that seemed to be pressing in on the two from all sides, the only thing stable was their beating hearts and breathing lungs.

Etho abruptly and rather sharply yanked Grian to the side as a piece of stone as big as a microwave came falling down and landed with an earth shaking thump! Right where Grian had been about to pull himself and Etho.

“Thanks,” Grian panted, wiping the dust from his eyes, and turning to glance at Etho. Suddenly, a ping sounded from their comms.

ZombieCleo was slain by Rendog

“What does it say?” Grian yelled, squinting at the small letters.

Etho glanced down at his and read the words. “Cleo’s been killed by Ren.”

“Is she green?” Grian asked, and Etho shook his head.

Grian breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut, then worried his lip, looking over Etho’s head.

“Shit! Joel’s coming this way-”

Pearlescentmoon was slain by Smajor1559

“We’re dropping like flies!” Etho exclaimed, staring down at his communicator.

“We have to go!” Grian shouted, sprinting off, still holding Etho’s coat sleeve tightly in his hand. “Joel’s seen us!”

“We need to find Martyn!” Etho yelled as Grian pulled the two further down the hallway, the dust finally clearing enough for Etho to fuzzily see the outlines of the room.

“We’ll find him later!” Grian responded, eyes firmly fixed on the staircase away from the havoc and destruction. 

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Etho spotted something cutting through the air in a silent arc of death.

Etho opened his mouth to voice a warning, barely having time to turn up his shield for the sharp silver knife to imbed into the wood. Apparently, Joel threw two.

Etho stared back at Grian’s surprised and wide eyes, the soulless and empty irises reflecting back at him, before Grian fell, and his body disappeared and a ping sounded for the third time in five minutes.

Grian was slain by Smallishbeans.

Etho could hear the manic cackling of Joel behind him, and he picked himself up, ignoring the grief threatening to break him, and tore down the hall, picking up his pace once he reached the long staircase and shooting up the steps, fueling his anger and loss into getting far, far away from Joel.

“Etho!” Etho heard Joel shout from behind him. “Come and play!”

Never in a million years.

Etho reached the grass at the top, and shoveled it open in seconds, climbing through the gap and running into the forest, hopeful to reach solace in the still silence and the unjudging birds calling out from the tops of the green leaved trees.

Etho didn’t know how long he ran for. Not long enough to reach the world border, but long enough for his legs to be aching, his side to be burning, and his lungs screaming at him for air.

He inhaled oxygen into his lungs, the sound of blood rushing in his ears drowning out the memories that replayed over and over and over again through his mind.

Grian was red. Grian was red, and it was just going to be a repeat of Bdubs all over again.

Etho knew how this played out.

He would promise Grian a life, and Grian would die. Grian would die and Etho would bury him beneath a bed of bloodstained tulips just as he had done to his best friend and first ally.

Etho leaned heavily against a tree, still gasping for air, yet refusing to take his black cloth mask off for the sake of the familiarity and comfort the piece of fabric provided.

Something sharp pierced his heart, and he felt the bandages that were hastily taped on after Bdubs’s death falling off, discarded to the side like trash, leaving his broken and hollow heart bleeding out on the ground.

It was fine , Etho’s mind resolved itself. Grian was red. He wasn’t dead yet, and he wouldn’t be in a very long time.

Just as Etho was typing out the /give heart command, he heard something move behind him. Something much to close.

He didn’t even have time to turn around before the hiss of death filled his ears, and he woke up again.

His vision was slightly tinted with the haze of bloodlust already seeping into his veins, filling him with some sort of energy that could only be described as not very Etho like. It seemed chaotic and brash.

That’s when realization hit Etho’s mind like a semi truck, and he stared at his own hands for a count of two, before looking up at the ruined base around him.

Etho was red.

It was chaos. That was the only way to describe the world when he awoke with phantom pains stinging throughout his body in the ruined and charred remains of the Green Life base. He sat up, blinking through the haze of smoke that still remained from the countless explosions, and glanced at the tab list.

Martyn was the only yellow life left, no doubt the rest would be concentrated on him before the real bloodbath began.

Etho needed to find Grian. 

He slid out of the bed, and walked on slightly shaky legs still aching from the respawn, then broke out into a run, sprinting down the narrow hallways.

His stuff hopefully wouldn’t have vanished, but the creeper might have taken care of that.

He ran into the suddenly dark and ominous forest where he had met the end of his yellow life, and abruptly froze when he heard a chest opening and voice muttering to themself.

Etho crept around the tree blocking his view, his footfalls as light as the shadows that danced with the sway of the trees, and peered through the crack between tall evergreens.

A certain avian was crouched next to said chest that Etho had heard open, and was placing more items into it.

Etho breathed out a sigh of relief, and walked out into the clearing, making his footsteps heard so as to not spook his fellow red.

Grian turned, axe in hand and shield up, but at the sight of Etho he immediately flew at him and tackled him in a warm hug.

Etho froze, not sure how to reciprocate, and settled for awkwardly patting Grian on the back as he felt Grian’s hold on him tighten.

“You okay?” he managed, suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of emotions that came flooding into him from the avian’s heartfelt embrace.

Grian wordlessly nodded, not letting go.

Etho carefully extracted himself from Grian’s grip, and sidestepped to the chest where Grian had presumably placed his items.

“Some weren’t there,” Grian admitted, sounding sheepish. “I think they got exploded when you um…”

“Yeah,” Etho nodded, sliding on his chest plate and leggings. His soulspeed boots were nowhere to be seen.

“They’re all after Martyn,” Grian continued, his fingers thrumming against the base of his axe nervously. “But when they get him it’s fair game.”

Etho thought for a second while he regained most of his items and sorted them into his inventory.

“Cleo likes us,” Etho decided, turning back to Grian. “If we’re friends with her, then Pearl and Scott will be friendly too, right?”

Grian grimaced. “I guess, but remember what Pearl said? I doubt she’d really be on buddy-buddy terms with you right now.”

Etho turned back to the chest and shut the lid with a dull thunk. 

“Worth a shot?” he asked, shrugging.

Grian nodded, and Etho fell into step with him.

The two left the clearing with death still in the air, and walked further into the dark forest, away from the bloodlust and the killing, where only the birds and wildlife could be of company to them. 

Red eyes shining, and with the urge to spill blood fresh on their minds, they were almost ignorant when Martyn’s death message popped into the chat, instead favouring their attention towards gathering materials and weapons, and whatever they could salvage from the ruined base.

Etho crept along the dark winding path leading back to spawn, his whole body tense and on alert. He semi blended into the shadows which he stuck to, choosing to stay clear of where the sun broke through the patchwork of leaves shielding the view of the bright blue cloudless sky from Etho’s view.

As he expected, the distant drum of voices met his ears, and he stopped when he was barely in earshot. He listened for a few moments, before steeling his courage and stepping out from the shadows.

Immediately, Pearl and Scott had their weapons turned to him in a defensive position, where Cleo merely smiled at him, then turned a glare towards their teammates.

“Etho’s a friend, remember ?” she said, an edge to their voice like the three had discussed this before.

“Right,” Pearl said, but the disdain was not lost from her voice. “What do you want?”
Etho raised an eyebrow, before turning his gaze towards Cleo. “Grian and I were wondering if you three wanted to team up with us just to get rid of the others, then it’s free game.”

Scott was shaking his head, and Pearl crossed her arms, but Cleo paused a second before responding.

“An alliance wouldn’t be bad,” they decided, turning to the others. “I mean, if I had to guess, Joel, Ren, and Martyn have teamed up, and having five people we can beat them easily, instead of being a 3 v 3 v 2.”

Scott considered this, tilting his head. “That would make it considerably easier, but you are aware we will not hesitate to kill you after they’re gone?”

Etho nodded, ignoring the red urge to draw his sword at Scott’s threat. 

Cleo smiled, then clasped their hands together, “Welcome to the team!” 

Etho ignored the glares from Pearl, and nodded, turning back into the forest the way that he had come, ready to tell Grian the good news of an alliance.

Joel really was bloodthirsty. Etho had been walking with Cleo to salvage what they could from the Scottage, when the man jumped between them out of the shadows where he had apparently been lurking, and began attacking Cleo with a force that could only be described as insanity.

His blows were quicker than Etho’s eyes could process, and he stood frozen for a second, but just as Joel broke Cleo’s shield, Etho was suddenly very aware of the sword in his hand, and stared down at it before back up at Joel where he had his axe in a very powerful arc that was surely to be a fatal blow.

Etho took a step, then another, then shoved his blade in the way of Joel’s axe, effectively stopping the weapon, but causing the shockwaves from the contact for both red lives to drop their weapons.

Cleo had fallen to the ground, tightly clutching a spot in her side just under her ribs that was staining her dark shirt an even darker color, and Etho could barely spare her a glance before Joel had run at him again, knocking both of them to the ground. 

Joel grabbed a nearby rock that was too sharp for Etho’s liking, and Etho rolled out the way just as Joel brought the rock down and stabbed through the dirt where Etho’s forehead had just been.

Etho lashed out, kicking Joel in the stomach and sending him back to the ground, and took the moment of leverage to dive for his sword which was laying discarded by Joel’s axe.

But Joel quickly regained his breath, and rammed his shoulder into Etho’s, but he was too late.

Etho had a hold of his sword’s hilt, and was slashing at Joel, but the latter had already picked up his axe, and blocked Etho’s attack with the blade of his own weapon. Then, he brought his axe in a downward motion, and Etho held his sword up horizontally above his chest, where the axe was aiming.

The axe met his sword, and Etho’s arms shook from the effort it took to keep the axe up, still balanced against the sword’s blade.

A manic smile was split across Joel’s lips, blood running down a cut across the bridge of his nose, and droplets of the bright red liquid fell and dotted the blade of Etho’s sword with maroon.

Etho pushed back with all his might, but Joel was still pressing down with the axe, and Etho knew it was soon to be over.

Suddenly, someone was yelling, and chaos erupted around him.

Scott jumped out from the treeline, and kicked Joel off Etho, who quickly regained his footing and began to spar with the cyan haired man.

Etho sat up, breathing heavily, and spared a gaze around him.

Martyn was in battle with Pearl, Ren with Grian, and Cleo was on the ground… unmoving.

There was no steady rising and falling of their chest, no movement coming from any part of her body, and that sent panic spiraling through Etho’s mind.

He stumbled to her limp form, and froze at the amount of blood that stained the grass around where she lay. Etho dropped to his knees, immediately pressing his hand on the wound where blood was still steadily leaking from.

He absentmindedly checked his communicator, and stopped dead at the newest message.

Zombiecleo was slain by Smallishbeans

Etho let his hands fall back to his sides, ignoring the blood staining his fingerless gloves, and stared at Cleo’s lifeless body.

He turned at the sound of a shout, and barely had time to dodge to the side as an arrow whizzed right by his head, slicing open the area below his eye where blood immediately pooled.

Martyn was shooting at him and Pearl was sitting against a tree, her chin tucked close to her chest and an arrow embedded right into her forehead, which blood still spilled freely from, waterfalling down her forehead and neck and dampening the hair that curtained her face.

Etho rolled to the side as another arrow split the air right next to him, and regained his footing, drawing his sword and running at Martyn, not giving him enough time to draw another arrow before Etho was upon him.

It was a 3 v 3 now, Pearl and Cleo were dead, and Etho wasn’t sure Scott had his and Grian’s best interests in mind.

“What-” Martyn yelled, but was cut off as Etho arced his sword into a fatal blow, and it sliced clean through Martyn’s neck, the red name immediately falling to the ground with blood pooling around his severed neck.

Inthelittlewood was slain by Etho

Crude memories of Martyn doing this exact thing to Ren last season bubbled to the surface of Etho’s mind, and he pushed them back down, turning away from Martyn’s body back to the fights.

A yell of triumph, and Joel fell to his knees, then slumped forward with a ringing ping in the communicators.

Smallishbeans was slain by Smajor1995

Rendog was slain by Grian

Then, everything was still. The birds stopped chirping, the wind stopped whistling, and the cloud stopped moving. It seemed the world had its breath held, awaiting what would happen.

“Well?” Grian asked, wiping blood off his axe, leaving the broken body of Ren behind him knelt in the red grass. “What now?”

Scott tilted his head, surveying the two. “Free for all?”

Etho pursed his lips, glancing back at Grian, and to his surprise the avian nodded with little hesitation. “Sure,” he said, brandishing his sword. “This needs to be even, though, is anyone injured?”

Nobody spoke up, so Grian took it as a negative. “Alright, how should we do this?”

“Each go to a corner?” Etho suggested, shrugging.

Scott nodded. “Sure, I’ll count us down in the chat.”

No further words were exchanged as the three split ways. Etho kept sending Grian confused looks at the sudden cold shoulder he was receiving, but Grian never looked back at him once, instead opting to hurry to his corner of the world.

Etho felt slightly hurt, but found his corner, and waited, checking his supplies.

He had no potions left, he had given them all to Cleo earlier, and he certainly did not want to search her corpse for some.

He sighed, leaning against the world border, eyes shut. As long as Grian would be okay, Etho would be fine with dying.

As long as Grian didn’t die with him.

Scott began the countdown.

Etho’s gaze was fixed on his communicator as the first text came through.

Smajor1995: 3

Etho had to find Grian. He had to find Grian and protect him.

Smajor1995: 2

As long as Grian was ok.

Smajor1995: 1

Etho didn’t want to win.

Smajor1995: 0

The final game had begun.

Etho tore through the woods, barely sparing any mind to the stray skeleton taking shots at him or the zombie rambling towards him, there was only one thought in his mind. One objective that he would give up his life for.

Get to Grian. Get to Grian no matter if Grian wanted him or not. He would be happy to let Grian kill him, if that meant the avian would get to live.

Through the blood roaring in his ears and the thoughts screaming in his mind, Etho barely heard the tree branch snap before a well aimed arrow was flying for his chest. 

Etho ducked out of the way of the projectile and slipped behind a tree, brandishing his axe. A flash of cyan hair caught his eyes, and he darted to the next tree, then the next.

Etho peered from behind the thick trunk of the oak, and Scott was gone. Etho’s eyes scanned the suddenly oppressive foliage surrounding him, searching for any sign of movement. But there was none. 

Then, a scream pierced the unnerving silence, and dread coiled in Etho’s stomach.

That scream sounded an awfully lot like Grian.

Etho sprinted into the trees, towards where the scream had punctuated the still air the loudest, and he crashed through the plants into a clearing where his worst nightmare was unfolding.

Grian was on the ground, blood running down his face, holding his purposely bleeding knee which had an arrow sticking out of it.

Scott was standing up, wiping blood from a cut above his eyebrow, and with a sword in hand that was dripping red onto the flush green grass.

Scott dove at Grian, weapon raised, and Etho fumbled with his bow, shock and panic causing his hands to tremble and aim to go amiss. 

His arrow sailed over Scott’s head, but it effectively got the man’s attention.

Scott turned, and Grian took Scott’s momentary pause to his advantage.

He reached out and threw a dagger. It buried itself in Scott’s ankle and he fell, his leg crumpling below him.

Despite the blood running from under where he was clutching his ankle, a smile split Scott’s mouth and a broken laugh resonated around the clearing.

“Wow!” he cried, still smiling. “I honestly had faith that you two would be fair about this! I guess I was wrong.”

Etho readied another arrow, his hands still visibly trembling, and fired. For a moment, it seemed the sharp tip would hit Scott square in the chest, but he rolled out of the way, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Etho’s arrow embedded itself into the soft dirt.

Scott ripped the knife out of his ankle, blood spurting with the weapon, but he never stopped smiling. 

He was truly gone.

Scott held the dagger in his hand, blood coating its blade, and held it up, pointing it at Grian who was standing up, then Etho at the very edge of the clearing.

“Let’s see if you can win a 2 v 1!” 

Then Scott dove at Grian.

Etho watched, mesmerized, as Scott swung at Grian, who barely managed to deflect it with his sword before Scott ducked and repeated. 

Grian thrust out his shield, hitting Scott in the face, then using Scott’s limp to his advantage and kicked at the ankle which still had blood pooling on the ground.

Scott grabbed Grian’s sleeve, and they both went down. Immediately, Scott was on top of Grian, dagger held above his head, then he was swiping down in a powerful arc of death.

Etho broke out of his stupor and sprinted towards the battle. Scott turned and instead aimed the dagger towards Etho, who blocked it with his shield, the weapon rebounding harmlessly off of the wooden surface.

Scott was not deterred. He threw the knife, which embedded itself into Etho’s shield, and took hold of his axe, swinging it towards Etho who was momentarily distracted by the dagger.

Etho barely backed up enough to avoid getting split in two with the axe, and took another step backwards, only to be met with rough bark biting through the back of his coat and shirt.

Etho held his shield up, and Scott ran at him. Etho blocked Scott’s attack with his shield, but the axe disabled his barricade, and Scott ripped the dagger out of the shield and splinters rained down on both of them. 

Scott was a flash of blue and red. He used his forearm to pin Etho against the tree, then swung the dagger into Etho’s abdomen. Once. Twice. Three times the weapon slid into the same spot, staining Etho’s coat red.. Blood coated the knife a shiny scarlet red, and the same red peppered across Scott’s face, where the manic grin still split his lips. Scott let go, and Etho immediately slumped against the tree, clutching his stomach as blood leaked through his fingers, and distantly noted the black splotches obscuring the edges of his vision.

With a feral cry of anguish, something went through the back of Scott’s head and he fell to the ground, blood quickly pooling below him, an arrow puncturing his skull all the way through.

Grian ignored Scott, and instead fell to his knees next to Etho, tears gathering in his eyes, making those beautiful red irises sparkly like redstone. Etho liked redstone. Maybe he could make something with the material back on Hermitcraft for Grian. That would be nice.

“Etho,” Grian was saying, and Etho only noticed now Grian was clutching Etho tightly to him.

Etho fought to inhale oxygen to his lungs, and his breaths came in short gasps which were not comfortable at all. 

“Not again,” Grian was saying, tears rolling down his face. “No, I don’t want to, not again- please- Etho, not again- Scar-”

A sob racked through Grian’s frame and he shuddered, holding his hands down on the blood that never seemed to stop leaking from Etho’s stab wounds. 

“Etho, you can’t, please.”

Grian’s words became intelligible to Etho’s ears, turning into wordless mumbling and sounds without meaning. 

Etho looked up at Grian through glazed over eyes. He was so tired. He just wanted to close his eyes and forget. Forget everything. Forget the snow castle, forget the flowers, forget the life given, forget how Bdubs’s lifeless body felt cradled in Etho’s arms.

Grian suddenly froze, something akin to realization flooding his eyes, and he stared down at Etho, his breath picking up. 

“I know what to do,” Grian said, then without further warning pulled out his communicator and began typing a command. 

Etho looked through half shut eyes to the blurry words that Grian was typing out. 

/ give…

“Wait!” he gasped, reaching towards the communicator. Grian held the device away, sobs beginning to plague him again.

Etho’s eyes felt wet, he realized he was also crying. 

“Etho,” Grian said, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry, think of this as repayment.”

“Grian!” Etho cried out, trying to sit up but falling back down to the soft grass which seemed so inviting on his pained skin. 

“I can’t win again, I can’t have another Scar.” Grian smiled, tears still running down his face and dripping off of his chin. “This was fun. I love you, Etho.” And he pressed the button.

Immediately, the bloodlust lifted from Etho’s mind. It was like a red veil being taken away, and he could properly see the world. 

That meant he could properly see Grian collapse next to him, his eyes empty and his face peaceful. Etho reached towards the avian, and clutched his bloody hand in Grian’s clean one.

Tears freely fell from Etho’s eyes, but he had no strength to wipe them away. He had no strength for any words to slip through his lips, no matter how much he wanted to scream at the sky for how unfair it all was. It was unfair that Bdubs had been red so many times. It was unfair that Etho had not been there to comfort his best friend as the life drained from his eyes and the blood pooled under him onto the bed of daffodils.

It was unfair that Grrian had just taken his own life in front of him in order for Etho to survive.

But he was still so tired. Etho’s eyes were heavy, and the pain was slowly slipping away. The grief floating out into the air, the sight of Grian’s soulless eyes slowly fading into nothingness. 

Etho wondered if it hurt, dying like that.

Grian fell out of the world. 

Etho again woke in the ruined underground base. He stood up, hands empty, and left the room, and made his way up the stairs silently.

Fine. If the Watchers wanted it this way, then they’d have it like this.

Etho exited the base and followed the winding path where the final showdown had taken place.

The world was strangely silent. No screaming. No death messages. No talks of betrayal and deception. It was just him and the birds that sang in the trees and the rabbits that frolicked in the grass. 

And of course, the dead body laying in said grass a mere few feet away from him.

Etho looked down at Grian’s broken form, but no tears came to his eyes. He bent down, and picked up Grian in his arms, just as he had done with Bdubs all that time ago. 

He slowly walked back to the snow castle, carrying the body of his friend bundled in his arms.

It was funny, really. In the past two death games, his teammates have either died for him or betrayed him.

In Third Life Etho had met his end with an arrow through the heart from Impulse, whom he had thought as one of his closest friends that game.

This game Bdubs and Grian had both died because of him.

It was Etho’s fault.

Etho reached the snow fortress, and carefully set Grian down on the soft grass where he would be safe for the time being. Etho dug through the chests until he found sticks and iron, and made a shovel, and he began digging.

He buried Grian next to Bdubs in the same place under the flowers. 

He left the gravesite, dropping the shovel in a random chest, and didn’t look back at the words carved into Grian’s grave.

I’m sorry. I forgive you.

Etho made his way back to where Scott’s body was still lying on the ground. Etho wanted to bury him. He wanted to bury everyone in the stupid server. But he had no time. Instead, Etho picked up the enchanted diamond sword lying next to the corpse, and aligned the weapon with his chest. 

He plunged the blade through his coat, and buried it deep to its hilt into his heart. Etho fell to his knees, then to the ground, the world mercifully quickly fading away and going black.

Maybe Etho would apologize to Grian once he got back to Hermitcraft. That’s what his redstone would be for.

But in the time being, Etho hoped the gravestone would be enough for the ghosts watching as the life drained from his eyes.

Because maybe, just maybe, Etho could have gotten there in time.  

Etho was slain by Etho