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The day after the world ended, morning came and the sun still rose.
Now, over five thousand three hundred days after the Second Dawn, the sun keeps rising.
Which is pretty neat, if you ask Gem. You know, the fact that humanity didn't die in a horrible, terrifying and painful massacre of their own making.
Today, in day she-lost-count, the sun rises again. The sky taints all sorts of pinks and oranges until it morphs into that lovely light blue of the morning that makes the birds sing. Although that's not what wakes Gem up.
La-la-la-lava, ch-ch-ch-chicken, Steve's lava chicken yeah it's tasty as hell!
For goodness sake. She is going to kill Joel.
She groans, turning over on her bed to stuff her face into her pillow in a futile attempt to make the music stop. It doesn't work, obviously, just like it hasn't worked the past three days.
Not to worry, though—she has spontaneously decided to enlist some help later today to find the freaking radio that keeps waking her up with that horrible song. She doesn't even know where Joel found the disc!
Ok, she can't mourn her peace for too long. There's things to do, plants to water and buildings to plan!
A cheery bell cuts through the melodies of the morning, including the chickens bawking outside, the far-away mooing and baaing of cows and sheep, the mourning doves' cries, Gem's faint humming and the characteristic sound of a copper golem's spinning its head 360 degrees.
Gem looks up from her list, trying to glance at her door. It's harder when there's a pillar in the way.
"Good morning, Grian!" She happily greets, closing the notebook and placing it down on the table right next to her half eaten breakfast.
"Hi," he pants as he closes the door to the tabern. Then, he approaches the kitchen. "I forgot how much of a morning person I'm not."
"It's already ten," Gem points out.
"I didn't say early morning, now did I?"
"Don't give me that attitude," Gem scoffs playfully, ignoring how Grian plops down in the chair in front of her and snatches a piece of cold toast, stuffing it in his mouth with little regret or consideration for Gem's thoughts on the theft. He doesn't even put anything on the toast, it's just plain bread. "What's up?"
"Don't give me that attitude," Grian mocks under his breath, stretching. "Um, nothing much. We said we were gonna start planning that diner, no?"
"That's right!" She gasps. "I got some materials for it during my last expedition. What spot did you pick?"
Grian blinks. Gem straightens.
"You… did pick a spot, didn't you?" When Grian doesn't reply, only looking away, Gem straightens and glares. "Didn't you?"
"Ok, so I may have forgotten that part," Grian admits sheepishly.
"Grian."
"I know!" He moans in embarrassment. "It's ok! We can just… plop it down somewhere in the shopping district."
"Grian," Gem repeats only to make her disappointment very clear.
"Shush." Grian actually has the audacity to not only shush her, but place his hand over her mouth to muffle any attempt at speaking. "I think there's still plenty of space for- AGH- OW!"
Grian whips his hands away, cradling to his chest after Gem licks it then bites it fiercely in quick succession. The stare down that follows is legendary, with Gem's proud smirking and Grian's offended glaring.
"That wasn't very nice, now was it?" He pouts.
"You're not very nice."
He pauses, his expression dropping into more calm territory. "Fair. Anyways, what I was saying was that there's still plenty of open space for us to build at."
"Alright, we can probably head on out in a moment to see the space we have," Gem hums. "Then we can go to your house and start planning. Have you told Etho?"
"Yes," Grian's pout gets even poutier, if that's even possible. Or a real word, "but he was busy."
"Aw. Why does he have to be a functional adult?"
"Exactly! How dare he?" He drops his forehead on the table, effectively killing the few brain cells that he has left. "Doesn't he know that he has friends that want to hang out with him?"
Gem sighs, exasperated yet disgustingly fond all at once. She reaches out to pat her friend's head.
"There, there." The words come out amused and patronizing. "You'll live. Now, help me clean up and let's go."
"Help you clean up? I didn't eat anything!"
"You literally ate my toast, that's the first thing that you did!"
It takes them a full week to plan and build the diner. It might not sound like a big deal, but Gem has built greater builds in half the time.
In their defense, they're experimenting with the style and having a lot of fun in the process, which means that they keep fooling around and delaying the end for no reason at all. Oh well, that's the price to pay when you have good friends and solid relationships with everybody around you.
The sun rises on the eighth day of work, and that is the day they shall rest. Not quite like god in the Bible, they're a couple of days too late for that. And also they're not actually going to rest, because it's like everyone in Hermitcraft is allergic to resting. The air ir always humming with the energy of whatever new project eleven different people are working on while nine of them finish their ongoing projects. The remaining five are gathering materials.
Yeah. Hermits like to stay busy. Who would have thought?
"Oh my gosh," Gem mumbles. Her hand wipes non-existent dust from the ivory counter. "It's done."
"It's done," Grian parrots, equally exhausted, dropping down into one of the stools. Gem feels half-tempted to follow suit, but she instead chooses to walk around the counter to stand behind it. "It took so long but it was so worth it, dude. I'm really happy with the fifties vibe we got going on."
"I know, right?" She smiles. "I'm proud of us. We even furnished it and everything."
Grian giggles tiredly, borderline hysterical. "I can't believe Etho couldn't help with that. He's literally the interior guy of E.G.G."
"We have to show him," Gem suddenly announces, "like right now. He's going to be so proud of us."
"Already ahead of you. I texted him, like- ten minuted ago."
Gem blinks, dragging her gaze from the eggs displayed on the shelves to Grian's not-even-slightly-ashamed face.
"Grian."
"I know." The despair is clear in his face. Gem has half a mind not to throw an egg at him to get rid of the manic expression.
"Did he at least reply?"
"… No :("
"How on earth did you do that." Gem says, disturbed.
"I came as fast as I could!" Etho wheezes.
"Couldn't reply to my text first, could you,'" Grian mutters bitterly under his breath. Etho—and Gem—ignore him, the former being too busy trying to catch his breath and hunching over.
"Don't be dramatic," Gem teases. "It can't have been that bad of a run."
She ignores the helpless look on Etho's face. Wow, her friends sure like to pretend they're miserable.
"Come on, welcome to The Good Egg!" She greets, ushering him inside. Grian follows suit, unable to mask his joy.
Etho whistles. "Oh man, I'm loving the fifties, sixties vibes."
"That's exactly what we were going for!" Gem and Grian shout in unison.
"I'm so glad it came across well," Grian sighs.
"We even got a jukebox!" Gem pats the old thing. "For ambiance!"
Etho glances around, his eyes crinkling from his smile. He walks over to one of the booths, sitting down and looking around while Grian hops on the table in front of him and Gem walks behind the counter.
"Look, we have the menu right here." She points to the sign. "It's all eggs."
"Obviously." Etho nods in understandment, getting up from his seat and leaning over the counter, squinting to read all the kinds of egg dishes Grian and Gem wrote down. Gem is 99% sure that Grian invented a solid third of the menu. What even are pushed eggs?
"But obviously," Grian chimes in, dragging their attention back to him, "no one is going to buy eggs."
"Eh, you never know," the taller man murmurs to himself.
"It's all a front," Grian smirks. Gem giggles. "Come on, follow us. To the bathroom."
Etho's eyebrows rise until they nearly touch his hairline.
"Come on, come on." Gem pushes past him, taking a hold of his sleeve and dragging him along. "To the middle stall!"
In the bathroom they set up three stalls. The trio crowd the middle one.
"… did we have to close the door?" Etho chuckles anxiously.
"Obviously," Gem tuts.
Then, Grian must activate the mechanism, because the floor opens beneath them and swallows them whole. Gem, who still had her hold on Etho, feels him tense and hears his startled yelp.
"Welcome," Grian walks further in, "to The Bad Egg."
"Oh my god." Gem can basically see stars in Etho's eyes.
"It's perfect, isn't it." At this point, Grian is fishing from compliments.
"It's an empty hole in the ground," Etho states, yet there's still wonder in his eyes.
"It's the start of something great," she corrects.
"Our prank shop," Grian announces.
"Our prank shop," Etho repeats, low and clearly charmed by the concept.
"Finally," Gem exhales, dropping the lid of the chest she just filled. Right, she can go work on her house instead of cleaning her bridge. This is what she gets for offering to do the path to the Nether. At least she wasn't in charge of the one to the End.
Now, time to go home!
"Wow, what a beatiful bridge. I wish it was structurally sound." A faint, familiar voice, echoes in the distance.
… What?
"Wha- Mumbo?" She squawks, frantically searching for the man. "Why am I suddenly catching strays?" Hold on a moment- "And it is structurally sound! I fixed it wayyy back!"
"Sorry." He pops in out of nowhere, "I just- it's been a while since you've been by your bridge, I wanted to say something. Hi, Gem!"
"Hello, Mumbo," she chuckles. "What have you been up to lately?"
"Right, I wanted to tell you, actually." Huh? "Me and Grian were doing some E.G.G. activities."
Gem has never been so lost in a conversation in her life.
"E.G.G.?" Gem says. "I thought you were with the firefighters."
"What?" It's Mumbo's turn to be confused. "No, I'm with the C-Team."
They both pause in an attempt to find their brain cells so they can use them.
"Oh wait- I am with the firefighters!" He exclaims in shock. Gem bursts out laughing.
"Never change, Mumbo." She wipes her eyes, teary from her laughter. "What were you saying? About E.G.G.?"
"Right, yeah, that." Mumbo nods. "In Grian's defense, I kinda inserted myself? And in my defense," he rushes to excuse himself, "Grian was underground doing redstone. I had to step in if we didn't want your diner to blow up."
"No, yeah, that's fair." She nods.
"Grian and I thought that it was ridiculous that I saw the interior before the rest of E.G.G., so we came to collect you."
"Oh- the interior is done already?" That was fast, Gem can't help but think. Although she has been pretty busy doing her own stuff, so it's actually been a couple of days.
"Yeah!" Mumbo glances at his watch. "I think Grian said he was dropping some stuff off at his house, then coming to get you so you can go get Etho. I'd stick around and awkwardly stand in the corner while you guys do your thing, but Scar needs me. And also I think Grian would skin me alive."
"Ah," Gem grimaces. Yeah, he probably would. "Good luck with Scar!"
"Thanks. Have fun doing E.G.G. stuff!" He waves as he walks away.
Gem watches the man go off into the distance, catching him stumble and look around. She snorts.
"I saw that!"
The sun-
Well, the sun has already risen. It's past noon.
Anyways, the sun has been in the sky for sereral hours now, but that doesn't matter because there's no windows in The Good Egg's bathroom, so. The only thing lighting the place up is the fluerescent lights they installed.
"Sorry, I think I just rammed my elbow into your boob," Etho apologises gracelessly.
"It's ok, I stabbed you with mine in the gut when we got in the stall," Gem waves him off. Then, she scoffs at Grian. "Are you activating the thingy or not?"
"I am," he huffs in irritation, grinding his teeth. "I just need to be able to reach it-"
Poof. The floor is no more.
Instead of the plainful drop and plain sight that greeted them the last time they visited, they're welcomed by plush cushions under their buts and a lovely furnished bar.
"Oh, Grian!" Gem gasps, delighted. "This looks amazing!"
"Did we land on a pool table?" Etho breaths out, bewildered, although Gem can tell that it's an afterthought in his mind, too busy examining the place like Gem is.
"Yes we land on the pool table, yes it looks amazing, I know!" Grian squeal, clearly drinking up all the positive attention. "I just need some help putting the drinks at the bar, I've got them all in boxes right now."
"Well let's get going!" Gem finds the boxes mentioned almost inmediately. It's a huge pile, and her eyes widen. "Jesus. How many drinks do you plan to store here?"
"Eh." Grian shrugs. "It's mostly empty bottles, I'll be honest."
"Why do we want to store empty bottles in The Bad Egg?" Etho questions.
"Don't question me."
Etho and Gem share a private, slightly disturbed glance. Gem prompts him to say something.
"… Alright."
And with that, they get to work. Gem helps Etho pick up the first box—listen, the one he chooses in particular is very flimsy—and takes one herself while Grian decides to settle down and sit criss-cross on top of the pool table instead of helping.
When Etho and Gem (halfheartedly) complain, he simply argues that he completely build and furnished The Bad Egg.
Which, you know. Fair enough.
Etho takes a grand total of three boxes and places them behind the bar counter, while Gem decides to focus on the crates that hold the glasses.
Comfortable chatter from her friends fills the room, and so Gem allows herself to space out a little. It's not like she's doing much anyway, and she's not interested in the boys' conversation about—she tunes back in for a second—how noteblocks are useful in redstone. Yeah, no thanks.
"Is that the last crate?" Etho suddenly speaks up, dragging Gem to the present.
She blinks. Her steps falter as she spares a glance at the crate in question. It sits lonely, now without the company that it had before Gem stripped it away.
"Seems like it." She looks at Etho. "You could be useful and carry it. Then we talk business."
"Oh, yeah!" Grian exclaims. "I didn't just drag you guys all the way here to show off the place and make you work. I actually wanted us to plan stuff."
Etho whines, all drama and no real desire to be saved, pushing off the pool table he was leaning against.
He doesn't have the time to take even a singular step before it happens. This low, deep rumbling, almost like a groan, makes the room tremble. They all freeze in place as it stretches one, two, ten seconds.
It feels like a lifetime has passed before it fades away.
"What was that sound?" Gem asks meekly once the rumbling ceases, almost afraid that speaking would make it come back.
"Don't worry about it," Grian chimes in hesitantly.
"I'm worrying," Etho replies inmediately. Gem internally agrees with the statement, unwilling to take her eyes off the direction where she assumes the noise came from. She crouches slowly, gently resting the crate on the floor and standing back up, her hands snaking over to her utility belt. Once they get there, her fingers graze over the hilt of her sword.
"I thought you said Mumbo did the redstone," she accuses.
"He did!"
"Wait, Mumbo did the redstone?" Etho interjects, his tone offended and disbelieving. "I'm right here!"
"Yeah, sure," Grian huffs in amusement.
"Guys," Gem chimes in, still focused on her task. "Not the time."
The boys shut up.
"Grian," she calls, "where's the thing?"
"Uh- right here."
Grian finally stands up, rushing over to the pink couch at the very end of the room. He waits for Gem to approach the desk, gesturing for her to stand back a step or two. Then, he presses a hidden button. Gem doesn't hesitate to jump down. She's ready to- to stop a fire, or have to hide from an explosion or something, or maybe even be launched away by Grian's trap/prank.
Instead, a zombie jumps at her.
"Shit-!"
In a moment, she chops the head right off. The decapitated body stumbles, not quite falling to the ground but crumbling when Gem drives her sword down its torso. She's breathing heavily when the body finally stops twitching, her weapon and front covered in dry zombie gore.
"Shit," she repeats, more disgusted and less startled this time. "Zombie! All clear!"
One of her friends opens a hole on the ceiling.
"What?" They both ask at the same time.
"Is there a way to get down here besides the floor?" Gem inquires.
"Um," Grian stalls. "I put a ladder that leads to the dumpster out back."
"Would a zombie be able to find it and get down?" Etho wonders worriedly. "They don't know how to climb down ladders, they're not that coordinated, are they?"
While those two theorise, Gem crouches down to prode at the cadaver, especifically at the fingers and legs.
"I think it found the ladder," Gem speaks up in surprise, effectively making the others shut up. "It has these… marks in its hands, and its legs have some fall damage."
Before any of them can open their mouths, a similar groaning rattles the building. It sounds further away, but the proximity is still concerning. Gem feels her gaze sharpen, standing up in an instant.
"I think they got in," she states. "Shit."
"Yeah, they did," Etho hums, not lifting his eyes frmo his comm. "Not sure how yet."
"Shit." Another groan, this time longer and more aggressive. A muffled shout reached them from the street, followed by the blunt thud of metal hitting something hollow. Like a skull.
"Shit," Grian parrots. "We should-"
"Go help, yup." Gem walks over to the ladder Grian mentioned setting up, hidden away behind a wall and some redstone. "Come on, boys! Time to worry."
And slice some zombies. Boy oh boy, Gem is going to need a longggg warm shower after this to get rid of all the dried blood.