Chapter Text
[leviathan (noun)
le•vi•a•than (li-’vī-ə-thən)
1a: a sea monster defeated by Yahweh in various scriptural accounts.
1b: a large sea animal]
Animal.
Wifies stared at the word, his mind uncomprehending.
Animal.
No, that couldn’t be right.
The Leviathan — Levi — was no animal. It was… it was…
It was a thing. Not in the derogatory way, no. It was no mindless object, no false idol. It was…
He. He was. Hummer would be nitpicky about the pronouns.
Hummer.
Oh.
See, Wifies has never been the kind of guy to believe in the supernatural. His capacity for so-called “whimsy and joy” was subpar at best. He liked to think he was reasonable. A materialist, even, if he ever had any need to label his beliefs with a word. The first half of his video was proof of that. He had doubted the Leviathan and Hummer more times than he could count, his own narration expressing suspicion and skepticism that he was thoroughly rid of now.
The viewers were going wild in his comments. His footage from after the Leviathan took him was… messed up, to put it bluntly. Corrupted in several parts and warped in others, with garbled audio and nothing but his own voice to paint a picture of what was happening.
The screen recording, starting from the moment he was swallowed up by the darkness and sent into free fall for a long moment, had completely given out. Every second captured showed him turning his camera and walking around according to his actual movements, but it was all done on the ocean floor. There was no indication of what he’d seen. To the viewers, it just looked like he had pointed his camera down for several seconds before abruptly yanking it back up and beginning to explore as if he had fallen someplace else. The only anomaly was his health and oxygen — it clearly showed him out of air and on half a heart until the point in time where he would have landed in the black box leading to the golden… palace or whatever it was. Then, his health miraculously jumped back up to full, the oxygen meter disappeared entirely, and even his hunger bar reset.
However, the handheld recording produced by him filming his monitor with his phone after his screen recording had been blocked was a different story.
He could view it just fine. The whole thing played back smoothly, showing his exploration of the almost heavenly realm he’d found himself in. But when he watched the YouTube video after uploading it, things took a sudden turn.
Glitches everywhere. The same few seconds of footage looping and repeating, pieced together into a variety of almost nightmarish compilations, the recording rubberbanding back and forth like it couldn’t decide whether to keep playing or start over. His entire monitor screen was obscured. It was a hopeless endeavor to try and decipher anything going on, only the sad pale beige-yellow-ish color of his walls showing sometimes at the very edges.
The comments were calling it a very clever fake-out. Some suggested he had used custom addons to keep him barely alive underwater, while others posited the footage had been spliced, one portion legit and the other part acted out in a modded server. What caught his eye, though, was a very familiar user in the replies.
Parameterization had chimed in, debunking both theories. According to him, Wifies had been spotted standing idly on the shore and had remained AFK for “like 30 minutes” just staring straight ahead. At no time did a death message for him appear in chat. Parameterization had even punched him at one point to try and rouse him, which would have straight up killed him if he were still on half a heart. With his insistence that the server had no mods or addons which could imitate what happened in the video, the viewers were forced to accept that something strange really did happen, even if they still believed Wifies was making most of it up for clout.
Fine. Let them think that. He’d trust what he saw with his own two eyes, and nothing less.
The chest whose contents he had stared at extensively before he passed out. Item 571, the Heart of the Sea.
No, the irony of its name was not lost on him.
There was an inexplicable sense of dread when he saw it. Like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to.
He thinks it eased a bit, in his last moments of consciousness, when he grew too weak to hold up the camera.
Heart of the Sea.
So… what? Was he looking at the Leviathan’s actual heart? Was it a figurative symbol to represent the vulnerability he was allowed to witness by being brought into an inner sanctum or whatever the hell that realm was? Was he reading way too much into it and going crazy?
He remembers when, earlier in the video, he dismissed one report. The one talking about the ocean opening up beneath the poster to swallow them whole, about ethereal planes with golden foliage, about endless skies and the edge of the understandable. The screenshot, too… Same situation as his, hanging to life by a sliver of health with no oxygen, stranded at the bottom of a deep ocean with their camera trained on something that looked like nothing.
He remembers the several others he brushed off with one careless, callous line: “You get a few of these oddball reports, a lot of them talking about flecks of gold when their screenshot is literally underwater.”
Fuck, they were right all along, weren’t they?
He was probably banned from — or at least extremely hated in — the hardcore server he and Hummer investigated. But that didn’t mean other options weren’t available.
He compiled his reports again. Joined Hummer’s server and went through the library. Quietly scraped together what he could until he found it: another server with a higher-than-average number of Leviathan sightings. The numbers weren’t as staggering as their first pick, but it would do.
When he joined, chat exploded in a flurry of messages. Some players were welcoming, others amused, most just warning him not to try any funny stuff like he had with Parameterization. He ignored all of them. Grabbed some wood, made a set of basic tools, then began his long sprint toward the coordinates of double 20,000.
As he figured, there were people waiting for him there, along the sand beaches framing an ocean that dropped straight into darkness. He could barely see the bottom from here, only managing to make out the general shape of the sea floor thanks to the white backdrop of the skybox occupying unrendered chunks in the distance.
“So, you’re here to try your luck again?”
Wifies startled at the sound of the voice chat, jerking his camera around to look at the girl who’d spoken. ‘Periastron’, read her user tag, and her avatar was a simple light purple block of color.
“…I mean, yeah,” he responded after it became clear the question was not, in fact, rhetorical.
“‘Kay. Can I come with?”
Several of the others nearby unmuted at that, objecting in rapid-fire bursts of “but-” and “what???” and “wait” and “you can’t do that, Peri!”
The last one caught Periastron’s attention. She spun to face the one who’d said that, someone with a matching avatar that was just solid blue and an unnecessarily androgynous voice.
“Why not? You tryna fight?”
“Wh- nono, Peri, I’m not trying to fight you!” The other person flailed around in mild panic, moving their character side to side with their head shaking. Their name tag announced them as ‘Tttthatguyeyes’. “It’s just… this is a hardcore world, what if you die?”
“So what? All you do is nag. Have some faith for once!”
“Faith? Peri, this guy’s claims are unfounded, and his footage is dubious at best—”
“I can hear you, y’know? I resent that.”
Awkward silence fell after Wifies spoke up, but was soon broken by a snort from Periastron.
“See? He’s got balls, unlike you.”
“Hey-!”
Uncaring, or perhaps simply choosing to ignore Tttthatguyeyes, Periastron turned from them and back to him.
“Anyways, can I?”
“Sure.” The answer slipped out before he could even process the question. It was as if something had compelled him, something beyond his mind. He shook the thought away. Sure, it wasn’t like him to agree so readily, but that was just overly paranoid.
“Yippee.” Periastron sounded less excited and more lazily entertained, like she was about to go on a particularly hopeless adventure. It brought a sour taste to his mouth. She didn’t really believe, in the end, just thought Wifies might know how to trigger whatever glitch she attributed his survival to. She was along for what she’d thought would be a boring time, probably already planning how to exploit their findings.
Fine. She was just dead weight, anyway, undoubtedly having backup potions in her inventory, not to mention she was wearing good armor. She wouldn’t witness the Leviathan even if she called with all her might.
After multiple attempts to further convince her on the futility of what they perceived as a glorified suicide mission, even Tttthatguyeyes dared not press further, for Periastron had switched off from the miscellaneous items cycling through her hand to an enchanted diamond axe, and was now backing up and jumping forward in a mime of hitting a crit, daring anyone else to defy her.
“Let’s go,” Wifies sighed, and turned to the water.
“Let’s,” Periastron agreed from behind him, relaxed as she swapped her iron helmet for a turtle shell.
Yeah. Definitely not catching a peek of anything.
“You might want to take that off,” he suggested offhandedly as he advanced toward the ocean. Unexpectedly, she actually listened to him and unequipped it, leaving her helmet slot empty. They dove in, Periastron splashing a potion of water breathing over them.
“You probably won’t see anything,” he warned as their avatars waded through the water.
“Why not? Does it have something to do with my armor?”
Huh. She was… pretty sharp, actually.
“Kinda.” He went into swim mode for a moment to clear a hill. “The thing is, faith is kind of the system the Leviathan works on. If you don’t believe, you won’t get results.”
“Really?” She sounded skeptical. He couldn’t blame her, really. That was his exact reaction too, a loud incredulous echo inside his mind when Hummer had gone on about it.
“Really. You can’t be in creative, have potions on you, or otherwise be safe in any way. You have to be in the ocean for real. Vulnerable and all that.”
“You sound like a cult leader,” she scoffed, but he could hear her stripping the rest of her armor behind him. “You really couldn't have told me sooner?”
“Didn’t want to hear everyone else object.”
“Fair.”
They sank down into a valley, a depression in the land. Patches of kelp were dotted around.
“And you can’t be a skeptic, either. I mean it when I say you really gotta… feel it, you know.” He paused for a moment, then added wryly, “I realize I sound like a crazy crackhead who’s making zero sense and you’re probably not inclined to trust me a bit, but just do it. You’ll see.”
“Fine,” she sighed. He turned just in time to watch her begin throwing things out of her inventory. First came several vials of potions, all splash. Then her armor. Then a door, followed by an enchanted trident, likely with Riptide. She really had come fully prepared. The items drifted up slowly, spinning against the backdrop of kelp and blue.
“What now?” She settled onto the gravel ground, remaining there without a hint of movement. Only her words through the voice chat mod were proof she wasn’t AFK.
“Thirty seconds left on our water breathing. I suggest you start believing.”
“There it is again. Belief, belief, believe. What exactly am I supposed to put my lot in with?” She was looking around, now, character constantly spinning as she examined the desolate landscape around them.
“I already told you. The Leviathan.”
“Yeah, well forgive me if I can’t trust a half-baked myth.”
Again, the words slipped out before he could even register them.
“Then trust in me.”
Periastron slowly turned to face him. She stood there for a long while, silent. Long enough for the water breathing to wear out. Long enough that their oxygen had begun depleting before she spoke.
“That was so cringe.”
Another long pause ensued.
“Fine, fine, you crazy…” she trailed off, making an aggravated noise. “Whatever. Don’t you dare clip this if we die, though. I refuse to end up in your next vid.”
“Oh, I see how it is.” He wasn’t recording. He didn’t say so.
“Your thumbnails suck and your YouTube is buns,” she continued, unheeding of the fact that they were actively drowning now. “Did you decide you were too cool for school and drop out or something?”
“I’ll have you know, I’m actually studying at—”
He never got to finish his sentence. One second they were on half a heart, about to die at the bottom of an ocean that was never supposed to exist, and the next second they were still on half a heart, stranded in the middle of nowhere.
“…yo.” For once, Periastron’s voice was quiet, almost hushed. “What the hell?”
Wifies just stared. Stared past the kelp into the bright, almost eyesore-ish neon blue of the ocean.
“Wifies,” she hissed, turning to him again. “Wifies, what the hell is this?”
“The Leviathan,” he replied absently, still looking.
“‘Leviathan’ my foot, you—”
It was she who didn’t get to finish this time, that familiar darkness swallowing them up again. The free fall through the kaleidoscopic tunnel of red and orange and yellow and green was no less disorienting than before, although it did allow him to get his bearings. He shifted in his seat, drinking some water and leaning forward, anticipating bubbling up.
Landing in the same black box as last time, he flicked his camera up and looked around, expecting someone who never came.
Periastron was not here.
That set alarm bells ringing in his head. He stepped out of the box, frantically looking around the realm. Perhaps she had arrived ahead of him? Perhaps she had made her way out and gone exploring?
But nothing greeted him. No name tag in the distance, no one-toned avatar anywhere in sight. He still couldn’t press F3, couldn’t even open the server tab. He tried to type in chat, but his messages went unanswered. He was, for all intents and purposes, blind to her whereabouts, truly alone.
As he approached the main structure, he noticed the realm had stayed in the daytime. It hadn’t turned night, unlike his previous go at this.
Yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have been recording last time. Sue him, though, he was curious, and the people needed to know.
Well, maybe not anymore. The people also happened to be ungrateful little shits who didn’t believe anything he said about the Leviathan. But hindsight is 20/20 and all that.
The chest was still there. He checked the block carefully, squinting at his monitor trying to determine if the darkened ring around the latch was tinged red or not. Eventually he decided it was probably safe to open and right clicked on it.
Wifies froze in his seat, going shock still as the chest UI popped up.
The item inside had changed.
Staring right back at him from the center of the slots was the Heart of the Sea he’d seen last time, only now it was a blue orb with an orange fucking eye in the middle, the horizontal line across it completely gone as if it had been a closed eye that just opened. It was… the same sprite that active conduits used, if he was remembering right.
Holy fucking shit.
Wifies stared for a long, long time, petrified by that gaze pinning him head-on. He was dead still, hardly daring to breathe, to exist, and the Heart just kept staring like it expected something from him.
Slowly, he moved his hand, and not looking away from the screen, he shakily dragged his cursor over. It hovered near the edge of the space for one second, two; then, on the third, he sucked in a deep breath and nudged it onto the item. The name popped up.
‘Hummer5718’
Oh.
Oh.
So that’s how it was.
No wonder Hummer knew so much. No wonder why he kept personifying the Leviathan. No wonder he had no join messages, no death messages, no fucking hitbox. No wonder Parameterization had acted so weirdly whenever Wifies alluded to Hummer’s existence — looking back on it now, he probably couldn’t even see him, for fuck’s sake.
No wonder Hummer kept saying to believe in him, to trust him. No wonder doing so had saved Wifies.
He stared at the screen for a long while, uncomprehending. His head was starting to hurt.
“Wifies?”
“Wha—” Wifies almost jumped out of his seat, whipping his head around before realizing that nobody could be in his room. He quickly exited out of the chest, looking around in the world. “Hummer?!”
“…I really didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“Hummer, what—” It was dark out. When did that happen? He knew the timing of day and night cycles in Minecraft, he knew it wasn’t possible right now to—
To—
His head was—
“Sorry.” Hummer sounded apologetic. Wifies wanted to rage at him.
‘Yes, you should be sorry! You should be sorry for putting me through all this grief, making me go through these absurd trials of trust and persistence, ghosting me after using me to what, reunite with yourself? You should be sorry a thousand times over! Say it again, Hummer, say it again!’
He also wanted to chat away until his voice died.
‘Hummer, you’re okay! You’re here! You’re the Leviathan?! How? Why? What was it like? Are you actually a scrapped mob? Can I ask you more questions, then? Have you been well? It’s fine as long as you’re fine. Show yourself, let me see you!’
But all the words stuck in his throat, so he could only shake with the combined force of all his suppressed emotions now breaking free. His vision was spotting, now, but he refused to go under, swaying precariously in his chair, fingers gripping the edge of his desk so hard all his knuckles were white.
“Hummer,” he managed to get out between gritted teeth, “what are you?”
Only silence answered him.
“Fine, let me rephrase that,” Wifies groaned, leaning forward a tad more, almost bumping into his monitor. “Always so damn pedantic. Who are you, Hummer?”
More silence.
“This isn’t over,” he muttered even as his vision failed, his arms buckling. “Hummer…”
“Wifies.” Hummer’s voice was soft, a strange warmth suffusing it that Wifies had never managed to hear past all the manic energy, the desperate searching for the Leviathan. Now that all that clutter was eliminated, it finally had space to bloom, to actually surface. “I should’ve known you’d never be done.”
Wifies tried his hardest to muster a glare at the screen, his chest tight with a ball of hurt-sorrow-something-that-he-refuses-to-name.
“Go on, then. I’ll wait for your next visit.”
“…” he tried to get something out — a cheeky retort, a promise, a threat, anything — but he simply could not work sound past his numb lips, could not move his heavy tongue weighed down by a thousand unspoken things. Hummer seemed to hear all his unsaid thoughts anyways, chuckling lightly as if he’d just gotten the wordplay behind a good joke. God, Wifies had almost forgotten how his laughter sounded, all bright and halting, stumbling, but endearing just the same.
It really wasn’t fair.
That was his last thought, delirious and more fond than he’d intended, before he promptly faceplanted directly into his keyboard.