Chapter Text
Grian was so tired. He hadn’t slept in several days; work was busy but not anymore than usual, nothing was any different at home. He still spent nights alone, reading or catching up on work or just sitting. Nothing had changed.
He just couldn’t sleep. Not a wink. He was scared the others were worried. Mumbo had already pulled him aside twice to ask how he was or if he was sick. His friend’s worry was endearing if not completely useless, what’s he meant to say? Oh yeah, I’m fine Mumbo, just haven’t slept in 72 hours.
So, he was desperate tonight. The most annoying part? Grian hadn’t even been falling asleep or nodding off, he was very awake and very tired. He was thinking of paying the pharmacist a visit before settling for the night.
So, after work, walking back from the school, he headed into town centre for a pit stop, the pharmacist was friendly, but Grian was just so tired, he could worry about his slightly rude conversation later. For now, he had a pack of sleeping pills and a warm bed inviting him.
The sky had grown dark while he was in the store, the clouds where rolling in slowly making the world overall very miserable. It was late November and Grian was getting ready to put up his Christmas tree but knew the disappointed look Mumbo would give him if he put it up too early.
It was cold, but not a bad cold, just simply chilly and for once Grian anticipated getting home. He was excited to walk up his apartment stairs and was excited to unlock his door- almost stumbling and dropping his keys with the heavy fog that clouded his vision, his head, his brain.
It hadn’t even hit six o’clock, but Grian was already kicking off his clothes to get into his worn pyjamas and setting under the covers. The pressure of the duvet over his body was heavy and uncomfortable and despite the tiredness over his entire body Grian could not rest.
He tried.
With little delay he opened his new box of pills and took out two- three for good measure actually- and grabbed the glass of water on his beside; he wasn’t entire sure when it got there but whatever.
The pills where bitter and he doubted they would do much, they were over the counter, but he was willing to try anything at this point.
Slowly, achingly slowly, Grian felt his brain numb out, he couldn’t tell if it was his brain giving out from his lack of sleep or finally falling asleep. It felt like a buzzing intoxication falling over his entire body.
He hadn’t thought the pills would work that effectively but Grian had never experimented with drugs before so he supposed that they would have a stronger reaction on him.
Then he was out.
---
Grian awoke what felt like moments later, he was no longer in his bed but was stood in a line besides people he recognized. Don’t get him wrong he knew these people, but he didn’t talk to any of them outside of professional or polite conversation.
He was next to a man with bright yellow hair and pointed ears called Tango he believed. Everyone was looking around curiously at one another before a booming voice in the sky spoke to them. He stared upwards, as did everyone else, as the voice started explaining.
“Welcome to a very new mini game: Third Life…” Grian listened to every word, drinking the knowledge of this environment. At some point during the explanation of the three-life system he had looked down at his left wrist. It had a tattoo-looking mark upon it, ten shiny red hearts.
Grian felt the one in his chest stutter. How? How was this happening, how did he get here. Was there anyone besides his fellow participants who could help? He didn’t know if he trusted this three-life system, how could someone die and be bought back, let alone twice. Grian didn’t think it could be that difficult avoid death, he had done so for thirty or so years, what made this game so different.
Before he knew it, everyone was hurry-ing and rushing away from the place they had spawned(?) from. Grian followed the crowed, choosing a direction he could see no one in.
Strapped to his side Grian could feel a bag and a larger one was on his back. He opened the one on his back as a thumping weight hit his back as he ran. Inside was a green leather book. Inside it held diagrams of objects and items Grian had never seen before. There wasn’t many, two or three. However, Grian flicked the pages to their respective recipes.
The first was a large crafting bench and it looked like it was made entirely of wood, the next was sticks made once more of wood, the other seemed to be various colours of buttons. The rest of the thick book was empty, yellowed parchment rough against his smooth skin.
He tucked it away back into his inventory. It didn’t take up much space at all in his backpack, so he let it stay there.
Grian walked over to a tree and began pulling the bark and wood with his bare hands, it did not hurt, and he managed to collect everything salvageable from the tree in almost record timing.
A buzzing, burning feeling erupted on his wrist and once he looked down, he found the other participants where ‘getting upgraded’ or other similar achievements.
Grian looked up, the sky was blue. Clouds were wondering over the top of him, he could hear the crackling of fire some distance behind him, and he let himself breathe for a simple calm moment.
Once he began walking once more, he couldn’t not notice the fiery red so outland-ish from the otherwise normal landscape. He ran over. Overhanging a riverside was a portal type structure Grian vaguely recognised.
Everything about this strange game and its strange world was reminiscent of something Grian couldn’t quite remember. It was so familiar in a way it shouldn’t be, so Grian ignored the odd feeling and swam across the tiny river to the scorched red land.
He knelt caressing the earth, it felt like rock but lighter, almost less dense. He moved on from the strange rock. Looking over to the wooden chest caressed by this glowing amber rock, almost pulsing in a silent rhythm. He opened the chest, cringing at the loud screech, he checked his shoulders before looking into the contents.
There seemed to be some shards of flint flaked into the chest as well as a strange warm object and a couple pieces of gold armour. The final, and most interesting, item to Grian was an apple. It was coated in a hard gold substance matching the chest plate Grian had quickly thrown on.
He stuffed the time into his bad on the side and couldn’t help but watch in fascination as the helmet had waves of almost aura rolling over it. He placed it firmly on his head before a horrible screeching filled his ears, immediately Grian flung the item off his head onto the ground. Watching as it rolled away from him and into the fire, quickly melting into a shallow puddle them disappearing into nothingness.
Grian did not like this. He ran to the side of the structure to catch his breath. He wanted to travel back over to the other side of the river where there were more trees, but the fire had only just dried off his clothes. Grian stood there for several moments, hesitant and scared. Eventually he lifted his inventory off his back and rummaged in the bag.
He took out the logs he had pried from that tree and began working them down into planks. It didn’t take long before he had twenty-six planks of wood in his bag. He grabbed his recipe book and quickly made a crafting bench in carful familiar motions.
He made some sticks too, finally he flicked through the once empty pages of his book only to find more recipes printed like they had always been there. He looked at them before settling on making a pickaxe and a sword in case any of the other players tried to approach him.
Grian held his wooden pickaxe firmly in his grip and turned to the stone besides him. In all honesty the pickaxe was very light, almost too light and as he raised it above his head, he closed his eyes and slammed it down onto the stone. After repeating the movement several times, he grabbed the chunk of salvageable rock and quickly placed it in his side bag.
He did this several times until he had enough to start to make his bag heavier. Grian heard the rustling of grass on the other side of the lake and took off. He ran away, quick into a random direction. He kept running until he was meters away, only then slowing down to a jog and eventually walking.
As he walked the world he found he was blacked in by an ever-stretching blue boarder. He reached out to touch it; it was cold and solid under his hand. He stared for a moment before turning away and heading back towards the canter.
As much as he was dreading meeting the other people, they couldn’t know much more then Grian, could they? Besides if they did, when they had spawned in, they were told they strictly could not attack each other until they had died twice. On ‘green’ and ‘yellow life’ they were peaceful.
In the distance was what seemed to be a small village. If Grian was going to escape they were probably his best bet. He started walking over, it didn’t look too far away, five minutes’ walk at a push, but he couldn’t help he jog he started.
He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t remember signing up or even getting here, it had to be a mistake. And with the help from the people in the town he could call the police or Mumbo or anything.
Work was probably worried he hadn’t turned up today and what if he got fired? He needed to leave.
“Grian?”
He stopped.
Just stopped. Out the corner of his eye a man was waving at him. It was Big B. Grian almost cried at the friendly voice, “Oh B, you’re here too.” He couldn’t help the joy in his voice. The other man had his head in his recipe book with various materials sprawled over his crafting table.
“Look at you getting yourself some protection. So early too.” The was an edge of wariness to Big B’s voice that Grian couldn’t fault.
He looked down at his glistening gold chest plate, it wasn’t the best protection, easily broken with the soft metal- and after seeing what the fire had done to the helmet, he wasn’t sure how useful it would be from the other players. “Yeah, you know, found it in a chest on the other side of this hill.”
Big B opened his mouth but with footsteps steadily approaching the pair froze. Grian was the first to react, pulling out his wooden sword, which now seemed silly compared to the stone one Big B had pulled out soon after.
The two who approached where running over rather unaffected by the nature of the gathering. One was Tango, the man he had arrived next to, who had wielded a heavy looking axe, it was large in his hands and primitive in nature but in contrast to Grians sword was more than intimidating. The other was Joel who worked as a carpenter just to the outskirts of their town. He was brandishing another stone sword and a large shield to match Tango. It was terrifying.
It became slightly less intimidating when they started to gloat about their shields. “Oh, hey guys, hey, oh where are your shields? Oh, it doesn’t look like you have any HA.” The taunting continued for several seconds before, in a fit of childishness Grian reached into his bag and pulled out his apple.
He threw it once in the air, watching as the gold caught the setting sun and reflected it beautifully. The other two immediately stopped and Big B let out a low whistle. “Imagine bragging about a shield.” He caught the apple as the other two fumbled trying to catch it and brought it in one flued motion up to his lips. He grinned cheekily, “Just kidding.” He stuck out his tongue.
The other two remained speechless as he bypassed them into the village. The sun had just passed the treetops by the time Grian made it to the first house. He knocked on the front door and waited patiently. It wasn’t long until there were a distant groaning and rattle on the grassy plains. He wondered if the others were alright, they were fine- surely if something happened, he would hear something or there would be some notification.
He felt himself peering at his arm, scrolling across his skin to see the chat and everyone’s achievements, no one had died yet it was all okay. However, Grians hunger was looking low, and he could feel his stomach rumble. He hadn’t eaten anything all day.
His hand clutched the stranger’s door handle, and he began to push it open- it was rude and downright illegal to break and enter but the house was unlocked, and a death game didn’t seem all that legal in the first place, so he supposed legality wasn’t much of an issue all things con considered.
The house was empty, only a bed and small table occupying the space. He closed the door and sat on the bed. It was lumpy and made of thick wool. Not at all comfortable, he laid his head on the itchy pillow and waited. He wanted to fall asleep so bad; to leave this nightmare and realize it was only a dream all along so bad. Alas it was no luck, it seemed his recent bout of insomnia continued.
He took out his crafting bench and folded it, so it was at full size, looking through his recipe book, he made some more simple tools, if only not to be outmatched by the other players. A stone pickaxe, sword and axe where quickly added to his side bag, and he stuffed his old tools into his inventory they could probably be used as kindling or something.
He searched his recipe book, page by page, cover to cover, for some type of shield but couldn’t find anything. Maybe he would have to ask Joel and Tango. He really hoped not. Once he had his tools, he folded down his table and ventured back outside.
It was eerie and quiet, too quiet but he would take it over screaming, the village was sparsely lit but he didn’t complain as the light it covered was enough. The place was barren. Not abandoned just empty. He wondered if there were any villagers nearby but supposed they were probably sleeping.
Big B was hurriedly chopping a tree to the side of his, quickly shoving all the logs into his inventory before they rolled away or where snatched, every few seconds he looked around like a man stalked.
“You, Big B, you okay buddy?”
The other man let out a startled laugh, “Yeah G, I’m fine, just on edge.” He placed his axe back in his side bag and heaved his inventory back onto his back. “Hey man, do you hear that?”
Below them somewhere, someone was humming a quiet tune. “Hmm, yeah, I do. Do you think we should go down and see who it is?” He pointed to a hole barely big enough to fit a person in it. He headed down into it without waiting for a response but could hear Big B following, watching his back.
Grian let out a steady breath and started down the spiralled pathway. It wasn’t natural and looked hand dug. Impressive for how long they had been there. The voice grew louder and was very familiar. He smirked, “Hello, Martyn.” Grian spoke just a bit too loudly.
“Oh, jeez, Grian man. You can’t do that to a guy.” He huffed to hide his subtle shriek. Big B was fully belly laughing behind him and Grian was chuckling. “You, sir, are mea- oh would you look at that. Boy just found his first diamonds.”
Grian and Big B looked at each over, “What are you kidding?”
“Nah, of course not. You know what since we are all friends, do you want a couple. Get ourselves diamond swords?”
Big B’s eyes were blown huge as Martyn came into view, he was holding a handful of shiny blue gems, he passed two to Grian then to Big B, “Oh, you’re really giving me diamonds, thanks man!”
Grian stared lost at his hands. “..Yeah, thanks so much Martyn.”
“Of course, we’re the blue sword boys.” Martyn spoke so easily.
Grian gulped, “You just formed yourself an alliance.”
Big B had already placed his bench and Grian walked over to use it at the same time, “Yeah this is huge, normally diamonds are a second date sorta thing.”
“What kind of dates are you going on?”
Martyn’s laughter faded into the fog of Grians mind as he, with the grace only someone with experience could muster, began working on carving and forging his sword.
Conversation was light as they worked on their swords, he asked Martyn about his show, and he complained about the difficulties of a radio show. Big B complained about how recently a group of children had checked back in about a dozen books overdue and how now he had to do all the necessary paperwork one would not expect a school librarian would have to do.
Grian only chuckled at the other laments as he had only just finished writing fool-proof legally sound field trip letters that he knew half the kids would only the forge the signatures to.
In that hour it took them to completely craft the sword Grian found himself forgetting about the death game and just enjoying the unusual company. It’s not that Grian didn’t speak to these guys, he’d known them all for years, but he hadn’t had the energy as of late to have meaningful conversations. It seemed all he did was work.
Which was fine with Big B and Mumbo who he saw every day, but Martyn? Martyn worked quite a distance from the school and even on weekends he found himself doing paperwork.
“Wow Grian. Have you done that before?” Martyn gestured to the expertly crafted sword now breaking the dim torch light to hundreds of tiny sparks.
“I don’t think so.” Grian placed it into his side bag before something caught his eye. He reached in and grabbed it carefully. “Martyn, for this I’m going to give you my most prized possession.” He bought out the golden apple and passed it to Martyn. He didn’t know what was so special about it but found an alluring feel to it, he didn’t want to part with it but find it only fair.
Martyn grabbed with a half-abandoned breath, “That is spicy! Way to make Big B feel like a third wheel though, yikes.” Martyn elbowed him playfully.
Grian made his way back to the surface not long later. He was hesitant to steal one of the houses but had yet to see any villagers. He went back to the unlocked house he had found before. Carefully he peeled open the door and looked around. It was still barren of anyone else.
He quickly chucked his inventory to the floor but kept his side bag secured onto him. He hadn’t realised how tired he was after slaving over the crafting bench, it must have really taken it out of him. The bed seemed more comfortable now and Grian suspected his standards had dropped.
Anyway, he let himself fall asleep onto the wool bed.
He was just so tired.
---
Grian woke some time latter, the bed was warm and plush under his body, and his alarm was blaring noisily in his ear. He moved to shove it off the side of his bedside table- or throw it against a wall- but sat up quickly instead.
He was in his bedroom. He checked his phone, it was now Wednesday, 6am. He had work. Grian was confused. He shut off his alarm clock, eyeing the pills he had taken the night before. He must have had some loopy drug dream. It had felt so realistic though.
Grians stomach clenched uncomfortably, and his throat was sickly dry. He made his way to the kitchen clutching his stomach as hunger pains recked his body. He should not be that hungry after one night.
Though he did skip dinner yesterday, and what did he have for lunch? He doesn’t even know if he ate lunch.
He began about preparing breakfast, it was a Full English kind of day. He sat in a lovely silence as he fried his food. It was not dissimilar to the familiarity he had when making his diamond sword in his dream. It was so odd. Grian had never had such a lucid dream before.
Or at least not since he was a teenager.