Chapter Text
It was dark here.
He was surrounded by the kind of darkness which Grian had come to associate with the void. He hated it. When he looked up, all he saw was nothing. No stars, no moon, nothing.
(He really hoped he wasn't in the void itself.)
It was his fault he was here anyway, he was the who snooped and got himself stuck… here.
Grian had flew over to the Perimeter with the intention to visit Doc. Definitely visit. He had no plans whatsoever to shove a bunch of chickens inside the massive hole, no siree.
After he had finished, ahem, gently placing some eggs on the ground, Grian had been prepared to fly off, to find and tell Doc that the Man in the Chicken Costume had visited his base, when a glint of orange caught his eye.
In the vast amounts of stone, deepslate, and redstone machinery, Grian had thought that he would find some more copper ore to age in Mumbo's base. Instead, he found a box sitting on a table-like deepslate slab. A simple, bright orange box that looked… off. Grian circled the box, and realised why it stuck out to him.
It was a safe.
One that had clearly been crafted offserver, the thin walls having been soldered together by the seams, the lock looked too complex to be made out of redstone. It didn't look very secure, more like a child's toy than a box of metal. Doc, alongside the rest of the hermits, never really grasped modern world tools. Not in the way Grian had, having been born on a server instead of spawned in the MainHub like the rest of them.
He inched closer to examine the lock, taking notes of all the ridges and little numbers. It reminded him briefly of the safe he used to keep his valuables in during high-school, except that one had been made of a strong metal. Sam never knew it existed, so he was able to keep a few belongings safe. Keep them with him instead of seeing them smashed to the ground and ripped up.
(That was until he sold the safe. Sold every valuble thing he had to pay for more booze after the intial stash ran out. He wasn't able to handle high-school sober.)
Instantly, Grian's initial curiosity soared. What could be so important to Doc that he had to keep it in a safe? The rational part of his brain knew that it probably wasn't a good idea to open it. That maybe whatever treasure in it was sacred or sentimental (or dangerous) but Grian had never been a rational person.
And all of his being wanted to know what was inside this tiny bright orange box.
Grian placed down an ender chest and digged around for a few moments until he found his Cross-Server Shulker that he had purchased many years back on the MainHub. It was a nifty thing, a shulker that carried items into any world you entered. It carried all of his items that he would never be able to replace, from all his engineering tools to deadly weapons—a shiny silver pistol and a stained rifle. Hell, it even had some items that held… memories.
(The only time he returned to his home server was to find this stuff. He had stolen his tools, recovered his guns from the back of a dumpster, and scoured his old school for Taurtis's clothes, Ellen's necklace, Rowan's hat and glasses. All stuff he could never dare to touch but needed to have with him.)
Grian pulled out an awl and hammer so that he could crack the sides of the safe open. He had thought briefly about trying to guess the code, but had quickly decided that would be way too much effort. He chipped away at each side, letting his mind focus on the project at hand. It had been years since he had worked with his tools. He distinctly remembered that the last time he had done so, he had been making adjustments to Robot Grian.
Grian removed the top lid from the safe, each side of it fell onto the deepslate the center of the disassembled box, laid a crystal ball.
It was filled with a light gray mist with hints of light purple and sat upon a golden rim adorned with carvings of eyes and galactic text.
Oh. Oh no.
It was a watcher artifact. Grian began to panic, how the hell had Doc gotten his hands on one of these things.
In all the years Grian had spent inside the watcher realm, he had learned that the most dangerous things there—besides the Watchers themselves—were the various objects. Statues that alerted Head Watchers of his rule-breaking, books that would blast painful beams of pure magic into his face when he tried to open them, and all sorts of mystic things that he hadn't dared to go close to. Sometimes, they would make him work with those items as punishment for his behavior, but when that method lost its effectiveness, they turned to their choice. Their favorite method.
Trapping him in the fucking void.
It was cold there, but not the kind of coldness that made your skin freeze and blue, it was the kind of cold that would sink into the warmth of yourself and last for weeks after you felt it. It stayed in your bones. Grian wasn't completely sure how much of his life was spent sitting in that darkness, because time didn't pass there. Or maybe it did. He didn't know and could never ask.
The crystal ball in front of him wasn't something he had seen before. He crouched down to try and read the small galactic text. He was an expert in speaking the language, the Watchers would punish him any time he tried to speak in Common, but they never expected him to read it. The few words he was able to make out were “to” and “from”, directional words which didn't give him any clue as to what this thing did.
So he knew nothing about what this mysterious-watcher-object could do. Great.
He sighed and sat up, what was he even thinking? He had enough experience to know that Watcher objects should not be messed with. Grian had half a mind to track down Doc and demand him to tell him where he got this and what it did! But then he'd have to explain why he broke open his safe…
Grian put his awl and hammer away and grabbed a soldering iron he had picked up at a Modern World Server shop to build Robot Grian's exoskeleton.
After finishing the two sides facing him, Grian walked around the deepslate table to finish the last ones. He kneeled down, grabbed the iron and—
…stared.
Grian sat there for a few moments, staring at the front of the crystal ball. There was a small button protruding from the side of the rim that faced him. It was… enchanting.
He had a reputation for clicking on buttons. Even when he knew they led to danger! Grian could never resist flicking a random switch or hitting a big red button because it was ingrained into his code.
The Watchers had amplified his curiosity around buttons and switches and made it a permanent attribute to his very being. It made it easier to get him into the void, all they had to do was put the transport button in front of him, and eventually he would send himself to his own personal hell.
Grian felt that same anticipation race into his mind. Press it, it said, press the button. You need to press it. Press it. Press it. PRESS IT.
He knew it wasn't a good idea to interact with a watcher artifact. They were harmful, getting near them hurt.
Grian clicked the tiny gold button.
—------------------
Xisuma wasn't worried Grian was late to the meeting. Like the majority of the hermits, their resident pesky bird often got wrapped up in his own projects and would forget about their monthly meeting.
He took out his communicator and sent a message to the whole server to remind them about the meeting. Only about half the hermits were there. As usual, it was mainly composed of the more responsible members; False, Cub, Impulse, Doc, while the rest began to trickle in.
That's when worry slowly began. As the room filled up with every hermit except Grian, Xisuma glanced back down at his comm. He had gotten various replies from Hermits letting him know they were on the way, but not one from Grian.
It wasn't a big deal, he was just late. (But Xisuma couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.)
“Does anyone know where Grian is?” Xisuma asked the group, his eyes zeroed in on Mumbo and Scar, as the three had formed the Buttercups this season. The two looked confused—so they didn't know where he was after all.
“I mean… he stopped by ScarLand a few days ago, but I haven't seen him since then.” said Scar, his face twisted into a frown before lighting up. “Oh! He mentioned that he was going to do some more work against the Perimeter, maybe he's collecting supplies.” Doc rolled his eyes at that information, but the edge of his lips twitched upward.
“I'm sure he'll be here in a bit” said Impulse, “He's probably just completely forgotten. Grian will see the message soon.”
Xisuma sighed, it would be fine. It wasn't the biggest deal for Grian to miss this monthly meeting, he only had a couple updates to give, nothing too substantial.
The worry in his gut didn't fade away after the meeting finished.
—------------------
“Griaaaaannnn!” Scar yelled, he glided down onto one of Grian's floating rocks.. “Oh G-Man! Where are you?” After the meeting, Mumbo and Scar decided to look for their fellow buttercup.
They looked around hundreds of Grian's favorite places to gather dirt, they scoured the shopping district, and now they were searching through Grian's base.
But all of their searching was proving fruitless. Grian was nowhere. Scar didn't want to admit that he was worried, but gosh darn it he was worried! Grian didn't show up to the meeting, and now it seemed like he had disappeared into nowhere.
A figure began to emerge from the distance, and a hint of hope began to emerge before it was crushed as he recognized Mumbo's suit and the distinct lack of macaw wings.
His friend landed next to Scar, fiddling with his hands as his eyes scrunched with anxiety. “No luck here, mate.”
Scar tried to hold it together. It was fine. They would find Grian eventually! They never got notified that he left the server, he was just hiding somewhere. Hiding from Scar.
“I guess we better let Xisuma know…” The screen of his comm flashed up and he scanned over the recent messages, in hopes to see one from Grian.
Direct Message
Scar: Couldn't find him at his base and the shopping district.
Scar: Any luck?
Xisuma: I'm still running scans for his code. Doc and Cub are here with me.
Scar snapped his communicator shut, and shot off in the direction of the Admin's base, paying no attention to Mumbo's bewildered noises as he soared back into the sky.
He needed to be there when those scans went through.
—------------------
Xisuma was in the middle of searching Grian's code when Scar burst through the door, with Mumbo trailing behind him. His movements were frantic, his chest rising and falling rapidly alongside his breath.
Cub jumped to his friend's side, he tried to tell the elf to sit down—to calm him from his panic—but Scar paid him no mind and walked straight through the room to Xisuma.
“How long till the scans are done?” Scar's face contorted into a distressed smile as he seemingly tried to shift back into his normal expression. “We couldn't find him anywhere.”
“Anywhere?” Xisuma trumped his fingers against the desk, turning his attention back to the dozens of holographic screens in front of him. The scans were almost completed, they could check on Grian soon.
“Yeah, anywhere! He's not at his base, not at the shopping district, for all we know he disappeared!” He spun Xisuma's chair around, forcing him to look straight at Scar's sour expression.
Cub tried to calm him again “Scar—”
“NO!” His arms flew up to swat Cub's hand away. “You guys aren't getting it! Grian's not anywhere. Nobody has seen him for the last few days. Something bad has happened and… and—”
“—you're worried. So are we.” Doc took Scar's hand and led him over to a seat next to Mumbo. “But you've got to let Xisuma exhaust all the options before you freak out.”
Scar began to tear up, he pulled his face into Mumbo's arms and began to sob. Cub and Doc drifted back to their stations and Xisuma turned to face his screens once again.
He waited, digging through his files to see if he could find anything. Anything that may hint towards some sort of… interference.
He hadn't crossed out the possibility that the Watchers had something to do with this.
Xisuma would always remember the moment Grian told him about his time with the Watchers, every detail about their control. It pained him to hear what his player had to go through, and yeah. He was a bit shocked to find out that Grian had become a deity, but he wasn't about to kick him out for it—it wasn't his fault he was kidnapped.
(It had taken him some time for Xisuma to get over his giddiness to have Evo SMP's admin on his server. He had finally met his idol—and he could admit that it had definitely influenced his decision.)
Beep! Beep! Beep! The shrill alert of the completed scans jolted Xisuma from his thoughts and he stared at the bright screen. The rest of his friends had too been alerted, and settled beside Xisuma, staring at the green glow of the holograms.
“What did I tell you? It's gonna be okay.” Doc patted Scar on the back as the elf wiped his tears, watching Xisuma speed through the entrance codes.
He wasted no time in pulling up Grian's data log, checking his coordinates. They could find him now! All they had to do was travel to…
“He's at my perimeter?” Doc stared at the screen, bewildered. Mumbo passed Xisuma a pen so that he could jot down the coordinates.
"What could he be doing there…” Scar's face lit up, elbowed the mustached man. Suddenly it clicked for Xisuma.
Grian had been gathering supplies for his shenanigans against Perimeter and just decided to play his prank early. He was probably still working on finishing it! Xisuma let out a soft sigh of relief.
But…
Cub spoke up, “Then why hasn't he told us this, he knows he can't not attend meetings—”
“I guess we're going to find out."