Chapter Text
Only the winners remembered.
That was one of the divine rules that the Watchers set in place, created to add variety to the death games that the Demiwatcher Grian had created. The players themselves didn’t know much about the Watchers, except that they took pleasure in their suffering.
What Joel did know was that he despised them with the very fibre of his being.
When Joel won Wild Life, he was ecstatic. Finally! All his efforts hadn’t been in vain. He felt his sword tearing through blood and flesh, fluttering sakura petals framing his monumental moment, as Joel pushed Grian to his death. The resulting lightning strike had illuminated his face in a harsh light, and only then was the visceral hymn harboured in his blood satisfied.
The ghosts may have mocked Joel’s failure of a trap, but that ultimately didn't matter. The sharp bursts of pain that spread through his body like wildfire couldn't dim his mood, even as the last Ender pearl hit the ground, and his consciousness faded into the void. Joel’s eyes opened to the dark, murky patterns that swirled through the infinite purple, the gaze of multiple sets of glowing eyes seared into his mind. The dragonfly hybrid tentatively stepped forward, drawn by an echoing, whispering call from the liminal space between the overworld and the void.
That was where he saw them.
The first figure that the mist revealed was Grian, the maker who was forced to participate in his own creations. The purple haze surrounding them distorted into a vast desert, the sun baking down on a dilapidated castle perched atop a towering sandstone mountain. The ruins of an army battalion filled out the skyline; a collection of houses was scattered about, all in shambles. A fragment of a castle standing tall, water softly bubbling in the moat; a fortress framed by molten rock. The duo walked through the deserted world, soft chatter wafting through the air. Unfamiliar sights snapped into place, like missing puzzle pieces, filling gaps that had gone unnoticed before.
The world fell away, and memories flooded through his mind.
Solitude.
Fire.
Smoke.
War.
Wolves.
Grian’s form was blown away by a phantom wind, as bright lights shimmered through the darkness like a galaxy.
Bright cyan locks were the first thing Joel recognized from the dark silhouette fading into view in front of him. Fucking Scott. Joel’s thoughts were laced with disdain for the man standing before him, but he complied to follow him as his surroundings warped. They wandered through war-strewn lands in relative silence, the only noise was their footsteps upon fallen debris, and Scott’s corporeal stars whizzing around his head like a halo.
Towering pillars of cooled lava stretched from the sky, dark stone frozen in the downward pull promised by gravity. A worn-out house in the shape of a hat drooped atop a mountain scarred by molten rock, trails of destruction left in its wake. A charred house balanced precariously on the ruins of a bridge; an empire and its towering walls burnt and fractured, torn apart by its very own residents. A grand castle made of tightly packed snow, slowly disintegrating; a homely cottage demolished by war. A fort surrounded by greenery, and another one mirroring it on the other side of the river. Another lifetime's worth of memories flowed through Joel's consciousness.
Loneliness.
Loss.
Murder.
Betrayal.
Outcast.
The space within close proximity of Scott shimmered with pinpricks of violet light, and he disappeared in a whirlwind of stars.
Joel continued on through the void, a swarm of estranged memories buzzing through his head, as a flash of scarlet red materialized through the veil of purple. The silhouette of a tall brunette woman faded into view. Pearl's bright red cloak stood out from the dull purple background, the manic light in her eyes softened by the calm expression on her face. Pearl stretched a hand towards the dragonfly and led him through the barrier between worlds.
“Come along.”
”I know.”
Their shoes touched down on fresh grass, soft from the emerging spring. “Huh,” Pearl mused, “It was still winter the last time I was here.” Giant moth wings sprouted from her back, soft dust-like particles drifting towards the leaf litter. Pearl’s wings folded back to her sides as she turned back to face Joel. “Now, before I bring you through here, mate, I just wanna warn you about some things. Let's just say, in this game, the Watchers really pulled on our emotions, y’know?” She took a deep breath, as if to steady herself after remembering something.
“It might have been possible to come out of the previous games relatively unscathed, but this one? No one has left this place without change.”
Pearl swivelled around, foliage crunching beneath her boots signalling her exit. “Just keep that in mind, alright mate?” A nod of acknowledgement was the only reaction from her shorter companion, lost deep in thought. Surely it can’t be that bad, right? I mean, what did the Watchers even do to warrant a warning? They’ve already burdened us with so much anguish; what could be worse than that? Joel followed behind the moth. His head felt heavy, a thunderstorm brewing amongst his thoughts.
Strange structures jutted out of the land, musky wood and cracked stone layered with soot and ash, small clouds puffing up from their every step. A modern house torn apart by an act of destruction; a sanctuary burnt to the ground, the blood of its former residents staining the earth. The ruins of two ranches, one on each side of the ravine, were all that remained, charred wood being the only reminder of their existence. A meeting circle in the spot where a mighty keep once stood; a towering box of uniform stone, stark against the soft environment. A tall, winding tower, its once pristine wood rotting from years of neglect; ruined debris floating in the river, pieces of maroon wood levitating above.
That’s when he saw it.
Joel’s vision caught a silhouette rising from the earth, darkening with the setting sun. The remnants of a grand ship are stranded on the side of a hill, framed by the setting sun. There really wasn’t much of it left, just a skeleton of its former glory, empty and unnerving. Wind whistled through its hollow ribs, the sound a haunting echo of the stories it once carried.
It felt like a home once loved, now forsaken.
…
Something’s missing.
More specifically, someone.
Joel’s mind filtered Pearl’s voice into the background, folding it neatly into a mental box to deal with later. His teeth subconsciously dragged over his lower lip, antennae twitching in concentration. Joel’s eyes stung from his prolonged staring, but he dared not break eye contact with their home the grand vessel. Ambiguous, deformed memories spilt out of the broken hull, like guts and viscera from a wounded animal, exposed to the cold air. Their warm memories, tainted by the impure legacy of the Watchers.
Joel’s memories.
Whose memories?
Tension built within Joel’s legs released as he broke into a sprint, dual pairs of scarred wings buzzed behind him, a futile attempt to fly. Loose dust rained down on lifeless terraces as Joel hurdled over fallen debris. Darkness gathered at the edge of his vision as he neared the ship, a sickening lurch seized at his stomach, and the ground gave way beneath him. Pearl had disappeared, presumably stolen away by the void.
Fragments of memories dug into his skin, circulating with his bloodstream.
Companionship.
Trust.
Soulbound.
Destruction.
Fire.
Watchers, he did not want to get up and continue walking. Joel lay on the ground, limbs splayed in an outward fashion. Screw collecting memories of alternate lifetimes like infinity stones, fuck, he probably couldn't even manage to stand up without his already massive headache evolving.
A phantom feeling tugged his soul within him, hauntingly similar to the thread that had connected Joel to him. And yet, when he looked down, the expected green string was nowhere to be seen. Right, that's long over now.
It burned away in the lava.
Just like the ship.
His new memories were just playing tricks on him, that's all.
Unearthly whispers from the void swelled in volume the longer Joel lay there, unmoving. A sharp increase in sound made him wince, antennae pressed against his head.
The Watchers really wanted him to get up, huh.
Fine, what's one or two more?
Joel pushed himself off from the cold floor of the void, somehow feeling weighed down and weightless at the same time. His consciousness lagged a few seconds behind; the edges of his vision blurred together. His memories were messing with his perspective on the world.
At this point, it would probably be better just to shut off my brain.
Martyn greeted him from the void. He had to say something, didn't he? Strange, thick words forced themselves out of Joel's mouth; the inside of his mouth was dried out, and the sides of his throat stuck together.
If Martyn noticed his struggle, he didn't acknowledge it.
His body followed behind Martyn as their surroundings shifted, but he was already far out of sync with reality.
What's the point of living this through and experiencing my emotions if it's just going to hurt me? Why not just fade out of reality and deal with the memories later?
Joel was talking to Martyn; he looked perfectly normal, even when he felt hollow and greyed-out.
The state of the world around him shared this feeling too, it seems. The land was scarred, debris strewn about. A ruined bridge hung between the shells of a clock tower and a flooded mansion. A broken hourglass stood at the edge of the water, surrounded by buildings that lay within the reach of the coastal breeze. A structure stood atop a mountain inhabited by frogs, the only creature remaining in this empty world. The skyline dripped into the night, covered by a tower adorned with frog motifs, stone decaying and falling apart. A bridge led to a stone brick tower, with what was once an extravagant tie positioned on the 'neck' of the building. Shadowing everything below it was a sprawling net, spanning across the whole land, high above the world.
Martyn hadn’t given him a warning about anything, which made Joel expect less… emotional warfare than the previous game. Either that, or Martyn just didn’t give a fuck.
Only long after Martyn had been blown away, did Joel open his box of newly acquired memories.
Even looking back at them hurt.
His sword impaled through your chest.
Cool water rippled around you
Tainted with blood.
…
It’s fine.
They didn’t remember.
…
Carnage rained down on your bridge.
His team, culprits of their crime
laughing as they run away.
…
It’s fine.
Neither of them remembered.
It doesn’t hurt, I promise.
I’m fine.
The pain won’t go away.
It will always hurt as long as you are stuck in these games.
Freedom.
Carnage.
Hunted.
Disappointment.
Falling.
Joel moved on. He didn’t feel like thinking. Why swallow that hard pill, when you could throw it aside, untouched, for the rest of eternity? He felt like he hadn't known joy for a long time, different lifetimes clashing and layering together, merging into a haze that was both too empty and too full. He knows, if he looked at himself, he wouldn’t recognise the person behind his dead eyes.
A rough hand landed on his shoulder, stopping Joel in his tracks.
”Why hello there!” A jovial voice rings through his haze. A tall figure with a purple cloak draped over his broad shoulders stood out from the void. Mask back on, Joel replied to Scar, outwardly matching his enthusiasm. In truth, he felt like he was viewing himself through a staticky tv.
Scar’s mood felt ever-so-slightly obnoxious, but there was a dark undertone of mania. Joel couldn’t find himself associating with either of those emotions.
The landscape looked just as torn apart as he felt right now. A large statue with the Watcher’s symbol emblazoned on it stood in the middle of the land, stalks of sunflowers chasing the light. A large wall encased three mounds with eccentric structures built atop; an upside-down house with the globe balanced ontop, a sideways house, water defying the laws of gravity, and frankly an eyesore of a tower. In the background was a final, fourth mound, a fairground in shambles. A courthouse and a trader’s, a heart-shaped island covered in dead petals. A large arrow pointing deep into the earth, a pink-toned village shrouded by towers and walls, a fort carved into the side of a mountain.
And just so much destruction.
Ruins of countless buildings, scattered like blemishes across the green grass. Scars littering the ground, the consequences of our their explosive tendencies.
Scar smiled upon the destruction like a child admiring their work, but sadness still lingered in his eyes. He looked like he was done with saying sorry to everyone.
Because he had.
And then, he was gone.
…
You had friends.
Until you didn’t.
The taut bowstring slamming loose, flying through the chest of your ally.
You deserved to die.
You hurt everyone whom you once cared about.
Teamwork.
Revenge.
Darkness.
Distanced.
Traitor.
…
Leave me alone, Watchers.
Can I leave now?
Joel feels himself falling apart. Vision slowly distorting, he let the void take what’s left of his consciousness.
—
Joel found himself lying in the soft grass, covered in soft pink petals. His city’s tallest towers just barely peeked over his vision, bright lights and colours in a cybernetic array.
He was back on Hermitcraft. The surroundings were just as same as when he was last here. The smell of fresh flowers wafted through the air, cool breeze carrying loose petals.
All around Joel was the same, but he was not.
After all, he won.
And winning changes something within that can never be reversed.