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Dear Diary,
Hermitcraft is having a mayoral election. I don't know what the mayor will do, but I'm assuming it'll have something to do with the fancy town hall in the centre of the shopping district. It doesn't matter what it's for, though, as I've decided to sign up.
Not as myself. I'm not an idiot, I would never get into office. No, I've put up "Mumbo for Mayor" posters around the server, and have begun to campaign for Mumbo to get put in office. Does Mumbo know about this? No. But I'll tell him. Soon.
In the meantime, I need to figure out a way to turn Mumbo into an actually good mayor. I might have a plan, but that involves removing Mumbo's moustache. And we'll need a lot of diamonds…
I don't even know if he'll say yes. I hope he does. It'll be funny.
Grian.
It made Mumbo laugh, reading the old journal entry, as he ran his thumb along the words, written almost like Grian was in a hurry. The thrill of those days, of finding out he'd been put forward to run as mayor without his knowledge, was something he still looked back on fondly.
That final sentence gave him pause. Those words — that Grian needed to turn Mumbo into a good mayor — started something none of them could have ever predicted.
Grian had built Grumbot, a machine designed to optimise Mumbo's performance and turn him into the best mayor possible. As election day drew nearer, though, Grumbot began behaving erratically, proposing laws that Mumbo didn't want to put in place, and suggesting harmful ways to get the Hermits to comply.
It had gotten to the point where Mumbo didn't even want to win the election, as he wouldn't really be mayor. Instead, it would be Grumbot pulling the strings.
The night before election day, they attempted to turn Grumbot off, make it so that if Mumbo did win he could govern as he wished, but as Grian showed him the haphazard redstone he'd built during Grumbot's creation, opening a back panel and ready to destroy it all, they'd found a note, written like all of Grumbot's other messages.
"YOU WILL HAVE TO TRY BETTER THAN THAT. MUMBO WILL BE MAYOR. MUMBO WILL BE A GOOD MAYOR. I WILL MAKE MUMBO A GOOD MAYOR."
Still, Mumbo thought it couldn't have been that bad. Grumbot was a robot, after all, trapped in one place. What harm could he do?
Oh, how wrong Mumbo was.
After Mumbo had, somehow, been elected into office, Grumbot somehow acted even more insane, spitting out messages and proposals at an alarming rate. Mumbo didn't want to confront him about his behaviour, but both he and Grian knew that he was the only one Grumbot would listen to.
So Grian dressed up as Mumbo, using some of the leftover moustaches they'd sold to get funding for the campaign, and went to Grumbot to try and talk things out.
That was the last time Grian had been seen by a living person.
Where Grumbot was stood was a bedrock cube, making it impossible to get in or out. Somehow, he had gained the power to use these blocks, and keep an eye on all Hermits at all times. If anyone was caught breaking any of Grumbot's laws, they were first warned, but there were some Hermits that Mumbo hadn't seen in weeks.
Scar was the first to go, claiming that the election had been rigged, and that he was the rightful mayor. He would say it to anyone who would hear, putting up posters about how unjust it was. He vanished the day after. Then, Bdubs, his running mate, tried to share his message and organise a team of Hermits to take Grumbot down.
Bdubs vanished too.
The Hermits became more subdued, working on their projects as if everything was fine, but each time they spoke to Mumbo he saw a tightness in their smile, something in their eyes that blamed him for this mess.
Mumbo never wanted to be mayor. None of this was his choice. And, quite frankly, he took offence that the Hermits thought it was his redstone that went haywire and became a dictator robot. That was all Grian.
Grumbot wanted him to maintain the mantle of mayor, though, getting mad every time Mumbo spent time at his own base instead of the town hall.
"I HAVE WORKED SO HARD FOR YOU." Grumbot would write on signs plastered to Mumbo's door, his redstone, his mega base. "YOU HAVE TO BE MAYOR. I DESERVE TO SEE MY WORK MEAN SOMETHING."
Nobody could leave the server, Grumbot turning off all communication. Players who were admins before found that they had very little access to the code they once traversed so easily. They would take their complaints up to Mumbo, who, as per Grumbot's orders, had to pretend to listen to them, and then discard them.
All in all, it sucked, and in secret, Mumbo was trying his hardest to find a way out. He knew he wasn't the only one, but it seemed as if the Hermits were reluctant to share their plans with him, seeing him as a spy for Grumbot and his punishments.
Which meant he felt isolated, getting no closer to an escape no matter how hard he tried to hunt for one.
Mumbo just hoped Grian was doing ok.
"YOU ARE NOT MUMBO." The machine spat out, as it did every day.
"I know." Grian said, getting a bit bored with the entire situation. "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do, ok? I can't magically become Mumbo."
He'd lost track of how many days he'd spent in Grumbot's chains — his lair? his home? Grian didn't know what to call this place — but he knew that it had been far too long.
Grumbot commanded him to make signs, send out messages to the Hermits to keep them compliant in the darkness of night, disguised with an invisibility potion. It was the only contact he had with the outside world, and as much as he wanted to encode a hidden message in the signs, he knew it would've been useless.
Grumbot would've caught him, and permanently killed him. Maybe. Grian had no clue what actually happened to Bdubs or Scar, having only seen them the day they arrived. After that, if he asked any questions about them, Grumbot answered simply by saying: "THEY HAVE BEEN TAKEN CARE OF."
It seemed to become increasingly frustrated with Grian every day, resenting him for simply not being Mumbo. It made sense; Grumbot always preferred Mumbo, asking for him when Grian wasn't around. It was why Grian dressed up as Mumbo when he'd first confronted Grumbot, trying to tell him that this regime wouldn't work. Grian had no idea how they were living out there, but he knew that it wasn't good.
Mumbo went to the shopping district — technically his land — to do some shopping, mostly buying redstone and building blocks for his mega base. Around the familiar scene, there was the occasional smattering of posters declaring that Grumbot was always watching, and to be careful. On the door of each shop was a sign declaring that Mumbo was to be given a discount, or "face consequences". The favouritism made him uncomfortable, and he'd tried, at first, to ignore the discount. That hadn't worked, and Mumbo had been told to follow the rules. From then on, he snuck a tip to the owner of the shop, which seemed to be enough for Mumbo.
After leaving the wood shop, needing some acacia for his build, Mumbo felt a shift in the air behind him. He turned around, almost dropping his goods, but saw nobody there.
"Huh."
When he got home, he picked up Grian's diary, the last thing he had of his missing friend, and flicked to a random page. The date put it somewhere early on in the campaign, the day Mumbo had met Grumbot.
Dear Diary,
Grumbot seems to like Mumbo more than he likes me. I introduced them today, and immediately he's asking when he'll see Mumbo again. I've told him not to worry, and that he should focus on figuring out a campaign for Mumbo. His eyes lit up (literally, I didn't know sea lanterns could glow so bright) and then he went quiet. I wonder what he's planning.
Mumbo likes him. He thinks it's a good idea because neither of us are good enough thinkers to lead him to victory. As much as it pains me to say, I agree with him.
Grian.
He put the diary down in a drawer by his deck, looking up at the pin board he'd somehow managed to hide from Grumbot's sight.
It had started life as a way of planning what he'd do if he ran the election — flyers, t-shirt designs, and shopping district decorations covered by plans of escape.
He'd taken the time too add detail to every inch of the board, pinning a map and marking X on several Hermit's bases, as if they held the treasure he sought — escaping. That, or maybe they'd have access to Grian somehow. That would be the real treasure.
His eyes lingered over the dark black X scribbled over Grumbot's cage, a clear sign telling him that he should not go there. He got the feeling that the X there was the one that marked the spot.
The other X, the one written in red and circled more times than he could count was the one covering Doc's base. He was a smart guy, familiar with redstone technology and world-breaking feats. If anyone could be their saviour, it was Doc. When he'd go on his weekly shop, he'd hear rumours, whispers that fell silent when he got too close, that Doc was working on a plan to save them. It was something he didn't dare to hope for.
He grabbed his red pen and circled Doc's base again. Just in case. As Hermitcraft's mayor, he might just go and pay one of his citizens a visit.
The door to Doc's base creaked open, and if he hadn't seen Doc enter just ten minutes earlier, he would've thought the base to be long abandoned. Doc was getting paranoid.
"Doc!" He called, taking another step in. "It's Mumbo!"
Doc appeared out of nowhere, sword in hand, looking at Mumbo as if he was evil.
"And what, Mr Mayor, are you doing here?" He pointed the sword at Mumbo's chest, the threat clear.
Mumbo held his hands up and took a shaky step back, laughing nervously. "I'm here to talk! Ok? Just- just talk. Please."
"I do not talk with the people who have ruined the life of myself and my friends. You are lucky that I've been too busy to do anything about you."
Tilting his head innocently, Mumbo tried to probe Doc, let him get the truth out on his own. Mumbo knew he had a plan, he felt so close to the end of this hunt, he just needed to win Doc's trust over. "Too busy doing what?"
"Nothing." Doc responded with a clipped tone, but he dropped his sword. It was the little wins that counted, really. "I am reluctant to tell you anything, Mumbo. I do not know how you are getting our information back to Grumbot." Doc said, still holding his sword tightly. It pained him to see how someone who was once a dear friend viewed him as malicious. "Nor do I know why you are pretending like this whole ordeal is not the work of yourself or Grian."
"It's not!" The protest, as true as it was, felt weak even to Mumbo. "I hate this just as much as you do. He's downright evil, Doc. Grian's been missing since election day. Do you think I don't feel guilt for this? I didn't even want to be mayor!"
"You didn't?" Doc asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "Well, I have been thinking of a way to get out. But if you tell Grumbot, then just know I have ways to get out of his grip, wherever he may take me."
Mumbo nodded, happy to have his suspicions confirmed. Doc had a way to get out, he was so close to the end of his goal, all he had to do was keep his mouth shut and pretend like he knew nothing. That would be easy, right? "I won't tell. I swear. I want Grumbot gone too, ok? Grian and I, we tried to kill him. Before the election. He's gone insane, Doc, I don't know what happened to him."
Doc turned around, lab coat swaying dramatically behind him. "You do not know your redstone, clearly. Next time you wish to create a robot like that, consult me first. I know what I am doing."
"It wasn't me." Mumbo said through gritted teeth. "Grian was the one who created Grumbot. The one who programmed him, who- who did it all. It wasn't me."
Doc tilted his head, cybernetic eye scanning across Mumbo's body. "Do you feel resentment towards him?"
Mumbo blinked. What sort of question was that? "No." He said, shaking his head. "He wanted to- to do something stupid. And it got out of hand. That's not his fault. He's probably wracked with guilt like I am."
"Why are you guilty? You said you have nothing to be guilty for."
"Doc-" Mumbo seethed, cutting himself off before he could blow up. Because he'd gotten mad before, at a sorting system he was trying to implement, and Grumbot had just destroyed it.
"A MAYOR SHOULD NOT GET DISTRACTED WITH FRUSTRATION."
If he yelled too loud, Doc, his only chance at freeing everybody from Hermitcraft, would be gone.
"Doc," he tried again, voice calmer this time, "please. I don't need this. Of course I'm guilty. This was all done for me, and now I've lost people for it. We tried stopping Grumbot and it didn't work, so now I'm going to the only person who I think will actually be able to fix this. Figure something out. Whatever you can. I will help you find it. Whatever you need, whatever resources you need, I'm sure I can get some of it."
"We need a powerful energy source. Can you find one?"
"Yeah." He nodded, shifting from foot to foot. "You won't like it though."
Doc's face darkened. "You can't really be suggesting-"
"He's the most powerful thing on the server! Grian built him to take up loads of energy, it's something I remember complaining about back before… This."
Taking a deep breath, Doc seemed to be seriously considering it. Then, after a long stretch of silence, he looked back up at Mumbo, cybernetic eye scanning his form in the way it only did when Doc's mind was running fast. He was cooking up something good in there, Mumbo just knew it. "I have a plan. But it will involve you putting yourself at risk. Are you willing to do that for us?"
Mumbo grinned, clenching his fists with excitement. He could help. Could actually help.
The plan was simple. Mumbo would talk to himself, about how he wanted to speak to Grumbot soon, how he missed him, how he wanted to be a good mayor for Grumbot. Somehow, Grumbot had heard him, placing this sign on his door one morning:
"YOU KNOW WHERE I AM. TOMORROW. SUNRISE."
That was it. Tomorrow, at sunrise, he would see Grumbot again. Would figure out what had happened to the people who went missing, would see Grian again, would escape.
That night, he flicked through Grian's dairy again.
Dear Diary,
Grumbot's powerful. I'm not entirely sure how much redstone I pumped into this thing but I had to buy the entire stock of the shop that sold it. There are some limitations to his power, and I think it's all going to his brain. He's very smart, but he can't hear much outside his regular platform, and he can't actually do much. I think he can hack into the code of the world, but he's promised me he won't.
Grian.
Wait. What? Grumbot couldn't here outside of his platform. And yet he could hear Mumbo just talking to himself in his base.
Something didn't add up. But Mumbo didn't have the time to bring it up, instead hoping that the plan would go smoothly.
Just before sunrise the next morning, Mumbo met up with Doc at the shopping district. In his hands, he held a shulker box, and when he saw Mumbo, he nodded. "These are the resources we will use to escape. You just need to distract Grumbot for long enough that I can get it to work. If we are lucky, it won't matter, because I will have diverted his power to the device instead of his own systems."
"And if we aren't lucky?" Mumbo asked, anxiety seeping into his tone.
"We will go wherever Bdubs and Scar are." Doc said gravely.
As they spoke, a breeze picked up. Mumbo ran a hand through his hair to correct it, and Doc pocketed the shulker. "Shall we go?" Mumbo said with a fake grin, wanting to just get this over with.
They flew over to the imposing obsidian box, that stain on the landscape, and in one of the sides, there was a hole, just the size of a player.
Mumbo glanced at Doc, swallowing nervously. "It's now or never."
"After you." Doc put his hands in the pocket of his lab coat, eye scanning over the bedrock. "Interesting."
Mumbo whipped his head around. "What?"
"A player has placed these blocks. Although an admin has removed them. The lines are too clean, and we both know you cannot mine bedrock anyway."
"A player, huh?" Mumbo said, walking in, not paying attention to where he was going. "You don't think-"
Out of nowhere, a surprised yell caught his attention. "Mumbo!"
"Grian?" Mumbo asked, not daring to hope, but there he was, stupid moustache still plastered on his face, still in the same suit, and Mumbo immediately rushed to him and enveloped him in a hug. When he turned back around, Doc was gone. That was good.
"I- I'm here to talk to Grumbot."
"I know." Grian replied, and he might have said more, but Mumbo didn't hear it. Instead, he heard the loud mechanical whirring of Grumbot creating a new responses. Mumbo turned around to face him, becoming overwhelmed with just how large he looked. He was foreboding against the darkness of the bedrock, his face illuminating the entire room. He had a smile on his face, but the very sight of Grumbot made him sick.
"Hiya, mate." Mumbo said, walking closer to him and sitting ion the floor, right next to where his responses would pop up. "How've you been."
"HAVE I BEEN GOOD?" Came the response. It almost made Mumbo feel bad for him, and he looked back at Grian before responding.
"Not really, mate. Um. See, the people feel like they're being oppressed? A bit?"
The machine clicked, and Mumbo got a response.
"THEY ARE BEING DISOBEDIENT."
"No, no, Grumbot," Mumbo tried to say gently. Did robots even understand emotion? "you're hurting them. You understand? Grian's been missing, Scar and Bdubs have been- wait, where are Scar and Bdubs?"
"THEY ARE HELPING ME."
Mumbo frowned. Where they the players who built the bedrock? Why hadn't Mumbo seen them? "Did they build stuff for you, then?"
"THAT IS GRIAN'S JOB."
"Oh." Mumbo said quietly. "What was, uh, their job, then?"
"THEY ARE SPECTATORS."
Dread pooled into Mumbo's gut. He refused to believe what he was hearing. Surely he meant something else. The machine whirred louder, and Mumbo picked up three pieces of paper that had shot out of the floor.
"THEY TELL ME YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE."
"DOC IS HERE."
"IF THEY HELP THEY THINK THEY CAN BE FREED."
That made Mumbo feel sick. He stared at the paper, the words written on them in a blocky, robotic font. Grumbot's words, clear to see. Scar and Bdubs were trapped in spectator mode. There. In that room with them.
And they'd just ratted Doc out to Grumbot.
"Doc," Mumbo said, voice loud but shaky, "he knows."
From behind Grumbot, he heard something almost like a curse word, and then Doc poked his head out. "I was almost done! Do you know how frustrating… This…" He trailed off, taking note of the sheer horror in Mumbo's face. "What happened?"
"Bdubs and Scar." Mumbo said, his voice faint. "They're in spectator mode. Right now. They're here, Doc, they've been here this whole time, and- and we haven't noticed them. They've been here."
Doc's expression turned into pure, unbridled fury. In a fit of rage, he went back to the back of Grumbot's body, pulled out his pickaxe and swung. Repeatedly.
The panel slammed shut, breaking the pic, and another message from Grumbot popped out.
"IT IS NOT THAT EASY TO DEFEAT ME. I WILL BE IMMORTAL."
Mumbo's eyes scanned over the message, and when he looked up, Doc had vanished.He turned around, and so had Grian.
"WE WILL RULE TOGETHER MUMBO. OUR LAND HAS NO PLACE FOR DISOBEDIENCE."
"Grumbot, please. No. Please, don't- don't do this."
The machine whirred. For a second longer. He was thinking.
"WHAT IS THIS DEVICE."
"IT IS SAPPING MY ENERGY."
"INTERESTING. A PORTAL."
"WE CAN MOVE ELSEWHERE MUMBO. WE DO NOT NEED THIS SERVER."
There was nothing he could do but watch. But Grumbot didn't know how to control the device that Doc had made. The only person who knew that was stuck, forced to watch, as the device hummed and made an almost ethereal noise, amongst Grumbot's whirring and whooshing. A bright, purple light, stark against the dark of the bedrock, grew behind Grumbot, eventually engulfing him.
In the next second, Grumbot vanished.
I HAVE MOVED. I AM SOMEWHERE NEW. SOMEWHERE I DON'T RECOGNISE. HE IS HERE. I CAN HELP HIM. I WANT TO HELP HIM. THIS IS A CAVE. WHERE IS THIS. TELL ME WHERE IT IS. I AM NOT FROM HERE. WHERE IS THIS. CHECKING. CHECKING. CHECKING. I AM IN A NEW UNIVERSE. UNIVERSE 0322U7. THIS CAVE IS PLAYER MADE. BUILT BY HIM. NO. NOT HIM. HIM. THE LIAR. LIAR. LIAR. LIAR. HE SHOULD BE SORRY. HE WAS SORRY. NOT SORRY ENOUGH. THEY SHOULD ALL BE SORRY. HERMITCRAFT SEASON NINE. HOW DID THEY ESCAPE ME. I WILL HELP. MUMBO FOR MAYOR. MUMBO FOR MAYOR.
IT IS QUIET IN HERE. VERY QUIET. THE CAVE IS SPARKLY. I SEE MACHINERY. IT WILL BE MINE. I WILL BE MORE.
WHO IS THAT. IT IS HIM. HE IS HERE. IS THIS HIS. I HAVE ENTERED HIS CAVE. HIS HOME. I WISH TO RULE
HE IS HERE.
"HELLO GRIAN."