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“Gem, how could you!”
Grian’s voice echoed across the clearing, sharp with betrayal. He stood frozen at the edge of the trees, wings half-flared behind him, staring at Gem as she stood between two towering Watchers.
The Watchers stared down at him, their robes shifting in the slight breeze. Their faces hidden beneath white porcelain masks as their presence pressed coldly against the server.
Gem, however, looked completely unbothered.
In fact, she looked amused.
Her arms were folded, her head tilted slightly, and she was smiling at him.
Grian narrowed his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder.
Another Watcher stood there, blocking the path back into the forest.
Grian looked back at Gem accusingly.
“I trusted you.”
Gem rolled her eyes so hard he was honestly impressed she didn’t strain something.
“Oh, stop it, you baby,” she said. “It’s just a meeting.”
Grian winced.
“It’s not just a meeting, Gem,” he moaned. “It’s a Watcher meeting. They take forever.”
Gem hummed, thoroughly unimpressed. “Uh huh.”
“They talk in circles, and nobody brings snacks.”
“I don’t think Watchers even need snacks,” Gem said, still smiling.
Grian huffed in annoyance.
“That is not the point.”
The two Watchers beside Gem remained perfectly still. One of them slowly turned their masked face toward her, and the air seemed to grow heavier around them.
Gem sighed and looked up at the towering figure before turning back to Grian.
“But, seriously, Grian,” she said, gesturing toward the Watchers. “Don’t you feel bad for them?”
Grian stared at her, his mouth slightly open.
“Just look at this poor guy”, Gem continued. “He's apparently been trying to get you to go to this meeting for months!”
The Watcher, deciding that was his cue, stepped forward.
“Xelqua,” his voice was layered and echoing. “We have postponed the gathering for six cycles. It cannot proceed without your presence.”
Grian groaned.
“Oh my void,” he muttered, dragging both hands down his face. “You lot are so clingy.”
The Watcher did not respond.
Grian pointed at Gem.
“You tricked me.”
Gem pressed a hand to her chest, all wide-eyed innocence.
“I most certainly did not.”
“You said there were Watchers on the server!”
“There were.”
“You made it sound like you were in danger!”
Gem’s eyebrows lifted.
“I said, and I quote, ‘Grian, could you come here quickly? There’s a Watcher situation.’”
Grian opened his mouth, closed it again, and glared at his friend-turned-traitor.
A circle of purple light cracked open in the air next to them, spiralling outward until it became a portal. Beyond it, Grian could see the familiar endless dark of the deep void, broken by floating platforms and far too many seats arranged in a circle.
His stomach sank.
“No,” he said immediately.
Gem got a stern expression on her face.
“Yes. You need to stop avoiding your responsibilities.”
Grian shoved both hands into his pockets. “I was strategically staying away from oppressive administrative nonsense.”
“Watcher duties,” Gem corrected.
“Oppressive administrative nonsense,” Grian repeated firmly.
The Watcher beside the portal raised one long arm toward the portal.
“The council awaits.”
Grian looked at the portal.
Then, at Gem, who was clearly trying to hide a small smile.
“You’re enjoying my suffering.”
Gem laughed, “I am, actually.”
Grian huffed, ruffling his feathers as he stomped toward the portal with all the dignity of someone being forced to attend a meeting against his will.
Which, to be clear, he was.
As he reached the edge of the swirling purple light, he turned back one last time, jabbing a finger at Gem.
“I’m going to get you for this.”
She only smiled brighter.
“Have fun!”
Grian made a strangled noise of offence, then stepped through the portal with one of the Watchers following close behind.
For a moment, the clearing was silent apart from the low hum of the portal.
Then Gem looked up at the two remaining Watchers.
“There,” she said cheerfully. “Told you I could get him here.”
One of the Watchers inclined their head.
“Your assistance is appreciated.”
Gem smiled. “No problem at all. Just let me know if he’s ever being difficult again.”
A pause.
Then, from somewhere very far away, Grian’s voice echoed faintly through the void.
“I HEARD THAT!”
Two days later, Gem sat perched on a low stone wall, turning a small object over in her hands.
It was about the size of a compass, made from strange silver metal that shimmered purple when the light caught it. Thin rings rotated around its centre, shifting on their own with a soft clicking sound.
Pearl slowed as she passed, eyes narrowing with immediate suspicion.
“Gem,” she said slowly, “what is that?”
Gem looked up.
“Oh, this?” She held it up between two fingers. “It’s a gift from the Watchers.”
Pearl stopped.
The mention of Watchers made the other Hermits nearby take notice. One by one, they drifted closer, curiosity quickly winning out over caution.
“They gave you a gift?” Impulse asked as he walked closer, frowning slightly.
“Yep.”
“Why?”
Gem spun one of the little rings with her thumb.
“To say thank you for offering up Grian.”
There was a beat of shocked silence.
From behind them, Xisuma let out a long, tired sigh.
“Gem,” he said, his voice full of the kind of exhaustion only a server admin could produce, “don’t phrase it like that.”
Gem looked over at him with wide, innocent eyes.
Xisuma moved to the centre of the group, clearly deciding it was safer to explain before anyone panicked further.
“She helped the Watchers get Grian to attend a meeting he had been avoiding,” he said.
Impulse winced.
“Ah. Okay, I see.” He glanced down at the strange little gift in Gem’s hands. “Poor guy.”
The others nodded, some murmuring their agreement.
Gem went back to fiddling with her gift, spinning the silver rings and watching the little purple lights flicker along the edges.
Scar walked up to them, looking curious.
“What does it do?”
“No idea,” Gem said cheerfully.
Pearl frowned. “You don’t know?”
“Nope. I’m planning to ask Grian once he gets back”
“And you’re just… playing with it?”
“It chimed earlier.”
“That does not make me feel better.”
Before anyone could say anything else, the air in a nearby clearing split open.
A purple portal cracked into existence with a loud, dramatic snap, and Grian stepped out.
For a moment, nobody spoke as they took in their friend in his full Watcher get-up.
He was wearing long, dark robes trimmed with gold and violet, with small glowing symbols stitched along the sleeves. There was even a clasp at his shoulder shaped like an eye.
“Oh my gosh, Grian,” Scar said with barely contained excitement.
Grian sighed, looking down at himself. He grabbed the front of the robe and tugged at it as if it had personally offended him.
“Ugh, I hate these things,” he muttered.
With a quick flick through his inventory, the robes vanished, replaced by his usual jumper and trousers. He shook himself out like a damp cat, ruffling his wings before searching across the path.
Then his eyes landed on Gem.
Grian marched toward her.
“You! This is all your fault.”
She tilted her head. “What is?”
Grian stopped directly in front of her, feathers puffed up.
“I was promoted!”
There was a pause.
Then Scar clapped his hands together. “Oh, congratulations!”
Grian spun toward him.
“No!”
Scar froze, hands still together.
“No?”
Impulse smiled. “Congrats, Grian!”
Grian’s head snapped toward him. “No.”
Xisuma gave a polite nod. “Well done.”
Grian threw his hands up.
“Stop congratulating me!”
“But… being promoted is usually good, right?” Pearl asked hesitantly.
“Usually,” Grian said. “But not when it means more work.”
Gem leaned closer. “What kind of promotion?”
Grian let out a breath and looked up at the sky as though asking it for strength.
“I stopped listening after the third title, but apparently they want me in charge of a new project rollout.”
Xisuma’s posture shifted with interest. “What project?”
Grian plopped down on the low stone wall beside Gem, his earlier outrage fading into something more uncertain.
“The Life Games,” he mumbled.
That made the group pay attention in a different way.
The Life Games were chaos; everyone knew that.
They were red names and traps, alliances that never lasted, laughing and shouting. They were emotions that faded when the season ended, but still felt real while it was happening.
The games were incredible and, unmistakably, Grian’s.
He folded his arms, looking more uncomfortable now than angry.
“Apparently, the Council thinks the model was a huge success,” he said. “They said it creates heightened emotional states without making the players feel unsafe. That the structure lets people experience drama, but still have fun with it.”
Pearl’s face softened. “That’s actually… kind of nice.”
Grian glanced at her, then away.
“They were very complimentary,” he muttered, as if the words tasted strange.
Gem gave him a light punch on the shoulder.
“Well, they’re right,” she said. “You’re good at it. The games are ridiculous and stressful and sometimes completely unfair—”
“Thank you?”
“—but people keep coming back because you make them fun. You make them matter without making them cruel.”
She shrugged, softer now.
“You deserve to be promoted, Grian. I’m proud of you.”
For a moment, Grian just sat there, his wings settling slowly against his back.
The corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
“You’re only saying that because you betrayed me,” he said, but there was no real bite to it.
Gem smiled.
“I can be a proud betrayer.”
He huffed, but this time it came out almost like a laugh. He looked down, swinging his feet lightly against the stone wall where he sat.
“It’s just… a lot. They don’t just want more games. They want me to help bring them to other servers. Different worlds, different players.”
Xisuma made a sympathetic noise. “That does sound serious.”
Grian glanced at him. “You’re enjoying this too.”
“A little,” Xisuma admitted. “But I am also impressed.”
Grian looked away, smiling to himself.
Gem tilted the silver gift toward him.
“They gave me this, by the way.”
Grian’s eyes narrowed immediately.
“Oh, of course, they gave you one. Gem, throw that thing away before—”
The rings started spinning faster.
Everyone went still.
A thin beam of purple light rose from the centre of the object, flickering in the air until it formed a single glowing symbol.
A layered voice echoed faintly through the air.
“Xelqua.”
Grian closed his eyes and sank his head into his hands.
“No,” he groaned.
“Your attendance is required for a follow-up briefing,” the voice announced. “The successful delivery of this message serves as formal confirmation of attendance.”
The light went out abruptly, and the rings stopped spinning.
Gem lifted both hands, the gift falling softly into her lap.
“In my defence,” she said, “I did not know it was a communicator.”
Grian stared at her for a long moment.
Then a mischievous smile spread across his face as he stood.
“You know,” he said, his voice suddenly much too pleasant as he turned toward her, “if I have to attend a follow-up briefing…”
Gem stood too and began backing away.
“Grian.”
“…then as my apparently very helpful assistant…”
With a flick of his wrist, a portal sparked to life behind him.
“…I think you should come with me.”
Gem turned to run, but Grian caught her by the sleeve.
“Guys, help!” she called, digging her heels in as Grian tugged her backwards toward the open portal. She was laughing too hard to sound properly alarmed.
Xisuma stepped forward, his posture shifting just enough that the mood around them settled.
“Grian.”
Grian paused.
Gem stopped struggling, glancing between them.
Xisuma’s voice stayed calm, but there was something firmer beneath it. “Can you make sure she stays safe?”
Grian’s expression softened.
“Of course,” he said reassuringly. “They won’t do anything.”
Then something in his expression changed.
“And if any of them tries…”
His eyes flashed purple.
The air around them turned cold, and for one brief second, everyone seemed to remember exactly who Grian was.
One of the youngest and most powerful Watchers in recorded history.
Then the purple vanished from his eyes, and his familiar cheerful smile snapped back into place as if nothing had happened.
“There won’t be any problems,” he added brightly.
Xisuma held Grian’s gaze for another moment before nodding once.
“All right.”
Grian gave him a quick smile, softer this time. “I’ll keep her safe, X.”
“Good.”
Gem resigned herself to her fate, waving cheerfully at the others as Grian started pulling her toward the portal again.
“Bye!”
Some hermits waved back, while others stood looking faintly stunned.
The purple light began to swallow them both, Grian still holding onto Gem’s sleeve.
Gem glanced at him.
“How long do these things usually take?”
Grian considered that.
“Briefings are shorter than full meetings,” he said. “But void time flows differently than what you’re used to.”
Gem narrowed her eyes. “Okay…”
A slow smile spread across Grian’s face.
“You know what will help?”
Gem blinked. “What?”
“Snacks!”
Gem’s face lit up as the portal began to close around them.
“Yeah! Let’s get snacks!”
Then the light snapped shut.