Chapter Text
Mumbo’s head was hurting. The ringing pain was consistent and even caused the vampire to tip over.
In front of him, in the middle of the spruce forest, on the stone platform, stood 16 people. Most of them were hermits, Mumbo recognised them quickly. But a few were unknown to him.
It all looked eerily familiar to the stories from Scar and Impulse about the death game. Were they in another one of those? Should they just kill themselves and escape?
But no one even tried that. Everyone looked cheerful, happy even. It was calm and oddly friendly for something that was described as a death game a few months prior. And so the vampire followed their lead.
As Mumbo was about to join Scar in the conversation with an avian to be introduced, his clothes started to go through what could only be described as magical metamorphosis.
The buttons on Mumbo’s jacket as well as the gem on his jabot got swallowed by purple fog, dancing and jumping around: six, two, four, three, five, and back to six.
When the fog lifted it left behind four dark green hearts: three as buttons, one replacing the gemstone on his throat.
Scar, who was just a few steps away from Mumbo, had three hearts hanging from each of his ears. The avian next to them had only two yellow ones as cuffs on his sleeves.
“Well, this is new, songbird,” the vex said with some oddly cheerful tone.
The said songbird, an avian, cheerfully chirped at seemingly worried faces.
“Calm down, everyone,” the bird announced, flapping his wings and leaving Scar and Mumbo in a cloud of dust.
The brief coughing from two Hermits and one nonsensical speech from the avian, or rather the watcher, later and everyone headed off on their ways. Some in groups, some alone.
Mumbo was still as confused as before.
Gladly for the vampire, Scar didn’t leave. The vex examined the enchanting table, probably assisting if it would be useful for him later when the hunger creeps.
“So… What are we supposed to do now?” Mumbo hesitationly asked, taking the book from the magical set up and reading a few lines. A guide on how to use it, even a vocabulary of the enchanted language. Useful for those who didn’t grow up surrounded by magic: like Etho, Cleo, avians… Mumbo himself.
He clearly used to be an elf, before he died and turned into a vampire at least, but the enchanted language never really came back into his mind. There wasn’t even a guarantee that Mumbo knew it while he was alive.
Not that it mattered, Hermitcraft had a lot of people who knew this language, who had stable use of magic. Scar himself offered to be Mumbo’s magic dealer on multiple occasions.
“Survive.” Scar stood up, dusting his knees off dust and gravel. His voice was warm and whimsical, like his statement wasn’t something as diabolical as simple order to survive. “That’s about it. Get as much food as possible, as many resources as you might need. This place has limited supplies.”
“This is probably a stupid question, but we’re a team, right? I can just rely on your knowledge to teach me?”
Scar beamed at Mumbo’s words. His eyes were full of shine, not that malicious cyan glow of his magic, but just pure happiness.
“Of course, Mumbo! We can get Impulse, and Pearl…” Scar trailed off. His smile turned softer, his eyes moved away, as he added more quietly. “And Grian, if you all wouldn’t mind.”
“Mate, the more the better. Especially if I understand correctly this would end up in a war.”
“Oh, yeah, no.” Scar snickered and then dropped the smile. He gathered his hands together and took a deep breath. “So last time numbers meant nothing and this time Grian said when you get down to one life you get hostile. Something regarding neurological paths getting cut off? You’re smart, you must’ve understood that!”
Mumbo uncomfortably smiled and nodded. Did he understand? No. To be entirely honest, he didn’t even remember what Grian was preaching, not a single word. The vampire’s attention was fully on the reactions of others: analysing the situation through the emotional outlet of those who already had experience with this.
“Wonderful! I’ll go find Grian. And food. Keep an eye out for food! Especially since our diet is quite strict.” The vex started to walk backwards, away from Mumbo. “I don’t want to start hunting people yet. I don’t think you’d enjoy that either. But we can share food… You get all the blood, I get the meat…” Scar’s voice faded away as he disappeared in the woods, still talking to himself.
Should’ve Mumbo followed Scar? Perhaps. But if food and resources were limited, separating and searching a wide area would be best.
And that’s what Mumbo did. Went the other direction, got himself some basic tools, food, trinkets to use later. Oddly, this felt comfortable. It reminded the vampire of the early days on Hermitcraft. The only difference is people and inability to rely on everyone.
The day had passed, the night Mumbo spent in a cave. The next morning the vampire got back to hunting.
Killing and collecting blood wasn’t the prettiest thing nor was Mumbo’s favourite. Usually Scar, Cub, or Cleo helped the vampire getting food, but clearly now everyone is out for themselves first.
So the process was messy: unnecessary messy and with big losses. Some blood was spilled, Mumbo wasn’t aware how to actually get the blood to preserve it.
Standing next to a dead cow, looking at the grass turning red and contemplating his life choices, Mumbo heard the sound of hooves and a soft, warm, familiar laughter.
“Are you mourning it?” Scar’s voice was teasing as he came to a stop on his horse. How did he get a horse already? It’s been only a day!
“I tried to collect blood.” Mumbo took off his blood soaked gloves and threw them away.
The vex just gently shook his head, amused or disappointed it wasn’t clear. What Mumbo paid more attention to was the lack of one of his earrings.
Only five hearts instead of six. Did he already die once?
“I’ll let you in on a secret, when I said we need to get food, I meant source. Not go kill everything around. That’s a job for later.” Scar carefully aided the horse to slowly move forward. “Anyway, hop on. I want to get the enchanter and head north.”
The vex extended his hand, hiding his flesh in the fabric of his jacket. It was unnecessary, since the horse would be very warm and very uncomfortable anyway, but it was a nice gesture.
It was a friendly and caring gesture.
It was a gesture that showed how despite the circumstances, everyone still stayed friends.
Mumbo got on a horse, not without help, and embraced the burning sensation from the living organisms.
Scar, knowing his friend’s biology, aided the horse to speed up, to make the journey as short as possible for the vampire.
The gallop was quiet. Scar would point out here and there some birds, flowers, berries or anything notable to remember. However Mumbo’s attention was still on a missing life.
“Scar, didn’t you start with six lives?” The vampire knew the question was abrupt and perhaps sensitive, but curiosity killed him.
The horse slowed down, Scar’s doing. Mumbo couldn’t see the vex’s face, but even from the body language, it was clear that the topic was not pleasant.
“I did.” Scar turned his head around to look at the companion, warmly smiling, but that wasn’t a happy smile. “Grian asked for a life. So I gave it to him.”
“Oh,” Mumbo wasn’t sure how to respond. That was good news, right? It meant Grian was on a team with Scar and having a Game Master on the team would be great.
But why did Scar hold the reins so tightly?
“That’s good. I guess having a team with higher lives on average,” Mumbo didn’t finish it. Scar’s bitter chuckle stopped him.
“No. Grian said he wants nothing to do with me,” Scar turned away, focusing on the road again, ensuring that Yellow Snow (it was a stupid name for the horse in Mumbo’s opinion) had a smooth path.
“But he has your life. I know you, you don’t just give away things-“
“I did.” The vex cut Mumbo off again. “I didn’t want our friendship to be a deal. Again.” There was a pause. The vampire could see the tension in Scar’s body. “I’m sure songbird’s just… Wants to make other friends. I mean, I plan to live on the northern mountain, it’s quite far, not so many people would visit… He probably doesn’t want a repeat of our desert isolation.”
“Did he tell you all that?” Mumbo tried to lean to the side, to peek through Scar’s hair and see his face. But he was unsuccessful.
“Oh, no, but Grian’s a watcher. You needed to see him in the last game, the man barely knew how to feel emotions, needless to say express them!” The vex snickered, briefly glancing at Mumbo with that cheerful smile of his. “He’s probably still learning. It’s fine, perfectly fine. Amayzing even. I’m happy he wants to make more friends.”
Mumbo didn’t really believe those words or the charming smile. But he also knew better than to press Scar into revealing his true feelings.
The vex would speak up if he would feel the need to. Scar knew that the vampire would be there for him, that's all that mattered.
When boys arrived at the stone platform where this all started people were already gathered and using the magical item to its fullest.
Scar grumbled something about ruined plans, but didn’t do much else. He let Mumbo get off the horse, to join others in upgrading his tools and equipment, to talk and socialise. All while avoiding joining in himself.
Was it because Grian was here too? Impulse, blond elf, whose name turned out to be Martyn, the canary avian named Jimmy were there too, fooling around with spy glasses and joking. It felt normal, like at home, even if half of the people were unfamiliar to the vampire.
And yet Scar avoided getting close.
When Jimmy skipped over to Scar and pulled Yellow Snow closer to the enchanter, holding out spyglass in order for the vex to join in, Scar straightened up, his green eyes darting around.
Impulse seemed to notice that, as the imp hybrid reached out to the canary in order to get him to stop, but everyone froze.
Scar’s nervous expression changed to one of concern and confusion.
“G, where’s my life?” The vex looked over the watcher. He leaned off, ready to jump off the horse and help, if help was needed, of course.
“Did you need to bring this up now?” Grian crossed his arms and Mumbo clearly could see now only two yellow hearts. As if Scar never gave his life to the brown bird.
“Well, technically, that was my life. You kinda took it and booked it.” Scar frowned, staying seated. He aided the horse to gallop around, perhaps checking on potential Grian’s wounds, perhaps to intimidate.
“Woah! Let’s calm down. Surely Grian can just make a new life?” Martyn smiled, but it wasn’t kind. It was a tease, a jab, perhaps a test of boundaries, perhaps an open hostility towards the Game Master.
Whatever it was, it clearly worked. Grian puffed out his wings and tail, even opened two more eyes, quickly flying up and perching onto Scar’s shoulders. It looked so natural, so casual, like the pair did that every day.
Mumbo was half expecting Scar to push the avian off, especially with the recent development of their relationship, but the vex didn’t. If anything he held arm up to support Grian’s balance.
“I am here to play! Like you all!” The watcher yelled out. “I’m not going to be using any of my “Game Master” skills! I just want to experience life like you do, Martyn.”
“We know, Grian, Scar warned us…” Impulse tried to mediate the situation. “Maryn is just messing with you.”
Grian chirped, turning away like a pouty child. Martyn just rolled his eyes and huffed out a bitter laugh. But after being nudged both by Impulse and Jimmy, the elf begrudgingly apologised.
Grian jumped off Scar’s shoulders, accepted the apology and explained the reason behind lack of lives.
Bdubs had killed him. Along with Etho, created a spooky scene and stabbed him.
Everyone looked shocked. For Bdubs, a little glare, a cheerful guy, a herbivore, to kill in cold blood…
“Why do you look so shocked? I did say that once a while people might get cursed. Same neurological pathways being crossed like on your last life.” The watcher shrugged his shoulders.
That made things more complex. Not only did you need to look out for how many hearts people have on display, now you also needed to be cautious of everyone as anyone might be hostile.
And no way of telling until it was too late… At least to Mumbo’s knowledge. Like rabies.
The conversation kept going, different direction, unrelated one: Grian, Impulse, Jimmy, and Martyn were discussing plans for the base on the south. The complete opposite of where Scar and Mumbo were planning to go.
“Okay, let’s head out,” The vex whispered, helping Mumbo on a horse once more.
But they couldn’t make it past the tree line as Grian pearched on Scar’s shoulders yet again.
“Actually! South is open for people to join!” The avian looked directly at Mumbo, ignoring Scar’s presence, using him as nothing more but a piece of furniture.
“Songbird, Mumbo’s already with me. In the North. I told you…” The vex hissed, only to get cut out of the conversation by the brown wing.
“C’mon! We have more people, natural protection, and fish!” Grian tried to sell this idea of joining him. Or rather it felt like abandoning Scar.
“Mate, I have fish… You’re dealing a wrong bargain.” Mumbo uncomfortably glanced at Scar who had already stopped the horse. The vex looked hurt.
“Nah, he has a point. Grian knows how the game runs better than me. Just go.” Scar shrugged his shoulders, forcing Grian to fly off.
“Scar, buddy, I don’t really care.” The vampire didn’t move away, didn’t get off the horse. If anything Mumbo held tighter on Scar’s jacket.
“I do! I want to be friends with you!” Grian grabbed Mumbo’s hands. Warm. The avian was too warm, unpleasantly so. And without gloves or any fabric to work as a shield against the body heat Mumbo couldn’t help but wince. “You look like an awesome guy! I think we’ll make best friends!”
“Mate, I don’t even know you, I kinda want to stick to people I know are not murderous psychopaths.”
“Well, I have Impulse on my team! You’re from the same world, even living nearby now, surely that counts!” The watcher was too determined to get Mumbo away from Scar.
What was more concerning is how sure Grian was about relationships and status of their lives on Hermitcraft. Mumbo knew that someone was actually taking Scar’s flowers, but the realisation that they all had been stalked was really unnerving.
“Yeah, Mumbo, you’ll have Impulse with you. Plus, I’d like to know that my songbird is taken care of.” Scar pushed Mumbo’s hand away from his jacket. Careful, through fabric, as if not to burn the vampire any further. “Just go. It would be better if you go.”
Mumbo didn’t get much of a choice after that. Grian picked him up and just flew away. Never did Mumbo fly before and it was clearly shown.
His eyes got shut, his arms automatically grabbed tightly onto Grian’s sweater.
The watcher laughed, not evilly, but warmly and chaotically. A type of laughter that comes from the heart and soul, that makes you feel just how happy a person is and makes you want to laugh with him.
“C’mon, open your eyes! Get used to flying! I’ll be your wings, you can trust me!” Grian chirped. Mumbo heard the flapping getting faster, felt the wind grazing his skin more aggressively, the air turning colder.
Until eventually everything went quiet. Calm.
They still were in the air, definitely, the flapping didn’t stop, the ground wasn’t anywhere near to be found.
But the stillness of the air, cool breeze and soft atmosphere made it too… Charming. Even the warmth of Grian’s body wasn’t a big deal right now.
Mumbo had opened his eyes to be met with a view of the entire world. He could see where the creation of this game had ended, where soil and water turned into dust and void, where the sky itself was cracking and disappearing.
It was, undeniably, a scene from a sci-fi movie.
“We will be living over there,” Grian said, pointing to the dark oak forest with his bird feet. “No one would be able to sneak from behind or right. Neatly hidden in the corner of this world…” His voice was calm, maybe a bit sad.
“That… does sound good, mate. Wonderful even. Did you pick it out while making this game?” Mumbo couldn’t help but notice that he was slowly getting lower and lower. Not because Grian was flying down, but because he was slipping away.
He tried to re-grab the avian, only to make the situation worse and slip out even more.
“What?” Grian laughed, adjusting his hold on the vampire so he wouldn’t fall. “No! I… Well, I wasn’t supposed to play. Not last time, not this time.”
“So why are you here?”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I want to experience life like you all do. I like your style of living more than… whatever we have in the void.”
“Have you made this just to hang out with us?”
“Yeah. But also no. Um… This is still a food harvest for us. I just… I don’t know.” Grian frowned, briefly looking around the sky. “Forget it. This was made just to torture you all. That’s why I was told to make it.”
“Cool…” Mumbo wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Grian did a 180 in a matter of second, seemingly for no reason at all. But, as Scar said before, Grian was a watcher. Creatures that didn’t really know how to feel emotions.
Maybe Mumbo could help Grian figure out how to express himself in a less… chaotic way.
Eventually Grian flew back down, in the dark oak forest where Impulse, Jimmy, and Martyn had started to work on clearing the land from trees.
The watcher and the vampire followed their lead, discussing plans for the base, making jokes, bonding. The first night as a team they spent together in a little nest made by Jimmy and Grian. The next day they started work on the foundation for the walls and towers…
Or in Mumbo’s case it was a bunker. Something safe, something that easily could be used by him both as defence and as a weapon, a trap. Almost everyone gave away any redstone to him and Impulse, so making trapped mechanisms wasn’t out of the option.
But the main goal was to get the shelter started. And that’s what everyone did for a week. No one really left this forest, no one ventured to explore or make alliances. Everyone stayed together, which Mumbo really appreciated.
He learned more about Jimmy, about the Empires world and by extension he also learned about Scott, Joel, Lizzie, and a bit more about Pearl.
Talking about Pearl was really a good bonding experience between the imp, the canary, and the vampire.
Grian would hop in the conversation from time to time, sharing some facts from what he had observed over those six months after the last game. Creepy, still creepy, but gladly Impulse had explained to Grian why stalking isn’t something that the watcher should be doing and be so open about.
Martyn turned out to be a lovely guy. Energetic, optimistic, funny, charming. No wonder Ren was so sad about the possibility of never seeing this guy again. Mumbo was surprised how no one had asked Xisuma to find and adopt the elf.
Perhaps Ren did. Perhaps Martyn didn’t want to permanently leave his home.
The week passed without Mumbo even noticing. The basic structure was made, some resources were gathered and stored safely, but most importantly, Mumbo actually started to enjoy his new company. He would go as far as to call them his friends.
And now Mumbo perfectly understood why no one was trying to kill themselves over and over again to escape this place, why everyone looked calm and even happy to be in this death game.
Because they got to meet their friends again. Because despite the looming threat of being psychologically tortured, they mostly were having fun. Nothing could go wrong if you think of it all as nothing more than a game, a movie, something that wasn’t real. So that’s how Mumbo would be treating this: like a movie set.