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< ℸ ̣ 𝙹ᒲᒲ||╎リリ╎ℸ ̣ joined the game.>
That was the message that appeared in the world chat of Hermitcraft Season 8 on an otherwise normal day.
Before the message, Tango had been hauling some wares up to the Big Eyes Pass N’ Gas up by world spawn. He’d asked BDubs earlier if he had restocked and he’d said no, so Tango was being responsible and running the gas station, all on his lonesome. (He wasn’t really upset, he just liked complaining.)
As he was putting golden carrots in the chest and taking out the diamonds that had piled up there when he felt his comm buzz in his inventory. He took his comm out to check if it was meant for him or not and that was the message. “ <ℸ ̣ 𝙹ᒲᒲ||╎リリ╎ℸ ̣ joined the game.> ” What in the Nether..?
Soon, a flood of messages from other Hermits started coming through:
<GoodTimeWithScar> who is that
<GoodTimeWithScar> xisuma do you know them?
<Grian> why is their name in galactic???
<Grian> is it one of THEM????
<ImpulseSV> ???
<GeminiTay> huh?
Tango even contributed to the flood of confused messages, quickly typing out his guess:
<TangoTek> new hermit???? Mid-season??? :0
Xisuma was quick to respond, sending out an admin message–a message that overrides everything and even has a built in TTS system to make sure everyone hears:
<XisumaVoid> I do not know the new person, nor why their name is in Galactic. If anyone is near spawn, I need someone to get there and hopefully catch the person before they get too far–they are a hacker of whom we don’t know their intent. Even if you aren’t near spawn, still do keep an eye out for anyone you don’t recognise. Thank you. Hopefully they aren’t dangerous, but better safe than sorry. On that note, stay safe! -XisumaVoid (Server Admin)
Okay, so that can’t be good. Hackers nearly never have good intent and are often quite hostile. Still, Tango, being the good Hermit he was, quickly let Xisuma know he was near spawn and was going to look around for the mystery hacker person. Xisuma thanked him and Tango was officially off work for today. At least by his standards.
Tango left the gas station, abandoning his task to run across the dirt path and into the Spawn Egg to check for the hacker.
Luckily for him, the hacker is still in the spawn, sitting in the middle of the floor unmoving. Tango was about to go question the person–”why are you here” “who are you” “what do you want”–but stopped when he saw the person’s appearance.
Scars, both old and new, marred the person's skin. There were cuts from weapons and nails alike, burns, arrow scars, bruises, and there were even a few places where their flesh was ripped away and bones were visible. The person was incredibly thin–so much so that Tango could see their ribs through their ripped shirt. The sight made Tango feel slightly ill.
They also had red horns, chipped, cracked and broken like everything else on their body. They only had one wing–the other had been crudely cut off just above the shoulder, mid-bone–and the one that he did have was broken, feathers missing and bones broken. Their tail wasn’t looking much better–it was sitting at an odd angle, one that even the most nimble tails can’t achieve without being broken.
Their hair was matted, burnt, and so caked in blood and dirt that it was impossible to tell what colour it was. There was a crushed flower tucked behind their left ear, lavender colour seeping into their hair, dying it slightly. Their eye was a cloudy blue-grey colour, covered in a white film that gave away that they were blind. They only had one eye, the one on their left was missing from the socket, the flesh around it ripped away from the cracked bone.
Suffice to say, Tango’s opinion on the ‘hacker’ (was he even a hacker on purpose or was it an accident?) had completely changed since two seconds ago. The danger-threat-attack in his mind had shifted to help-save-protect. He rushed over to the person, holding his hand out to help them up. Remembering that they were blind, Tango said, “Here, let me help you up.”
The person didn’t react to a stranger talking to them nor did they flinch at the sound of a voice so close, they merely reached up and took Tango’s hand using it as something stable to help themself up. The stranger didn’t even thank him or say anything at all, just continued staring expressionlessly at nothing. Maybe they were mute.
“Can you speak? If not just shake your head or something,” Tango said, wanting to know what to expect of the person. The person almost immediately shook their head, still expressionless.
Tango needed some way to communicate with them! He was sent to make sure they weren’t a threat, and even though he had a hunch, Tango couldn’t be sure without proof. “Can you write?” Tango asked hopefully. When the person didn’t respond, he questioned if they had even heard him. He repeated himself. “Can you write, yes or no? Nod for yes, shake for no.”
The person responded this time, nodding. Good! A form of communication! Tango led him toward the yellow bed, telling him to, “Sit down and wait here, I’ll be back for a book and quill for you.” They did as they were told, sitting and waiting. It was as if they were an animal. The thought was disgusting.