Chapter Text
It's late afternoon by the time Iskall leaves Mumbo's base, and leaves Evil X and Mumbo alone there. Evil X sits with his back against some of Mumbo's storage chests, while Mumbo sits cross-legged in the middle of his quartz walkway.
"You and Iskall seemed to really hit it off," Mumbo comments. The two had spent some time swapping stories about Mumbo; Iskall more recent ones and Evil X stories from the early seasons, before he was Evil X. Iskall laughed again, the full-bellied laugh Mumbo loved, and Evil X laughed too, the breathy chortle that was unmistakably Xisuma's. It warmed him to hear his friends laughing like that, laughing together, even if he felt some nagging pressure when he tried to join in. This wasn't for him. It wasn't as if he'd be heard anyway. "Looks like you might have some friends when I'm gone after all."
"Yeah... suppose I might..." Evil X says, although something in his tone sounds unsure. Almost guilty, even. It confuses Mumbo that he'd sound that way. What exactly about making friends would make him feel guilty?
"You don't think so?" Mumbo asks. Evil X glances away, stares into some middle distance beyond the rows of chests. He blinks and swallows, biting at his lip like he's trying to keep himself from crying, and Mumbo blinks too. He turns to look where Evil X is looking, and he sees light. Not light from the sun or a torch or glowstone. A golden light that dances above the little desert biome he'd made, the flickering walls of an unfamiliar build encased there. He recognizes what it must be. The afterlife Evil X claimed he would go to.
Something feels off about it. Mumbo feels no pull towards it, no familiarity with it. Shouldn't he feel a draw towards his afterlife? Why did he feel like he still hadn't learned whatever lesson, had whatever epiphany it was he was meant to?
"Mumbo I..." Evil X starts, trailing off as if he'd lost the words, or simply never had them.
Mumbo turns back to Evil X, who looks more choked up than before, more guilty. His gaze is on his lap now, on his own fidgeting hands. Mumbo furrows his brow. "Evil X, is that... Is that the... the afterlife?"
Evil X nods minutely, eyes still cast down.
"That can't possibly be it. It feels... off. Am I missing something?"
"It's not for you, Mumbo," Evil X says quietly.
"What do you mean, 'not for me?' " Mumbo says. His stomach does an odd flip-flop. "Who... who would it be for?"
Evil X finally looks up, looks into Mumbo's eyes. "C'mon now, Mumbo. You aren't that stupid."
Mumbo swallows thickly. His mind is racing through a million questions, and he's not sure which one to ask first. "It's... you mean... if—if you... then... what about me?"
Evil X gives him a sympathetic smile at that. "Looks like I'll finally be passing the torch."
Evil X's face falls back into a frown and he averts his eyes once more.
"I should have warned you," he sighs. "I suspected it this morning. When I woke up. Your eyes. They're... they're red now. Like mine."
Mumbo glances down at the glass part of his walkway, trying to make out his own reflection in it, to confirm Evil X's claim.
"I didn't know how long it would be before I... before I had my epiphany," Evil X continues. "I thought I still had time, but then we ran into Iskall, and well..."
"You made friends with him."
"First friend I've made since I became me," Evil X says.
"What about... y'know... you and Wormman?" Mumbo ventures. It still hurts, hearing how lonely Evil X has been, but now there's another emotion there twisting up his guts. An anxious anticipation.
Evil X gives another rueful little smile. "Wormman may have liked me, but Zed... He hung up our friendship when he hung up his cape."
Mumbo looks away again. "...Wormman didn't wear a cape."
Evil X snorts. "You know what I meant, Mumbo."
The silence that follows is awkward and uncomfortable. Evil X makes no move to get up from his spot by the storage chests. Mumbo squirms. "Shouldn't you... go...? Before your door closes?"
Evil X nods. "Yeah, I... I should go."
He stands, and Mumbo scrambles to his feet too. He's not sure what to say. What do you say to someone you'll likely never see again? How do you say farewell to the dead? He fidgets, opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again. Evil X seems to struggle much the same. Mumbo supposes it's a strange new experience for him, being on the other side of the interaction.
The next thing Mumbo knows, Evil X is grabbing him by the shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Mumbo blinks before his brain catches up to him. He feels Evil X's hands tighten on his suit jacket and he finally wraps his own arms around Evil X, returning the hug. He feels tears welling in his eyes and tries to blink them away.
"Don't let them treat you the way they treated me, Mumbo," Evil X says.
"I won't," Mumbo chokes out. "Should be easy for me, right? There's no competition."
Evil X laughs, and it sounds just as watery as Mumbo's eyes feel. "Yeah. You've definitely got the advantage over me."
"Enjoy your afterlife, Evil X," Mumbo says. "You've earned it."
"Thanks," Evil X says, and finally he pulls away from the hug, wiping at his eyes and smiling. "Thanks. I will. I'll enjoy it."
Evil X hesitates only a moment longer before turning back to the shimmering light, taking a deep breath and stepping towards it. It envelopes him in its warmth, bathes him in the same golden hue that washes over the build just beyond its edge. He stops just past the threshold, turns back to Mumbo.
He smiles again, small and melancholy, and waves. Mumbo waves back. The shimmering light begins to fade, taking Evil X with it, until there is nothing left but the desert biome Mumbo built all those months ago.
The silence Evil X leaves behind feels unlike ever before. He's never felt so alone in his life. Mumbo turns to the walls of chests beside him, reaches a hand out and feels his heart flutter when his fingers make contact with it, when he feels the wood grain against his skin. He wasn't a ghost anymore. He certainly wasn't alive, either.
Mumbo turns away from the chests, towards the tower on the other side of the Architechs station. He wonders if Grian is there. Wouldn't that be a surprise for him? Mumbo could almost laugh, if the idea wasn't so morbid. He manages a weak chuckle, but it drops off quickly. He would have to rip that bandage off sooner or later.
He picks up the discarded elytra and stack of rockets Evil X abandoned and takes off. Grian's base is close enough it only takes him one rocket to get there. It's dark inside when he stumbles to a stop in the main level concourse.
"Grian?" He calls. His voice echoes up the empty tower. "Grian, don't freak out, but it's Mumbo."
He looks around, searching for any sign of habitation, but he's interrupted by a sound that makes his blood run cold—assuming his blood runs at all anymore.
"Um," a voice says behind him. "Sorry, who did you say you were?"
Mumbo turns around slowly, and comes face to face with himself. He's sporting an alarmed look, his hands held nervously in front of his chest. Mumbo can feel himself mimicking the pose and the grimace forming on his face already. His mind races, trying to parse what his eyes are seeing. A rocket sounds from the entrance above, and if Mumbo's heart could stop any further, it would.
"Alright, I’ve just messaged everyone, they should be on their way over soon—" Grian cuts himself off as his own eyes catch up with him, and he lands beside the other Mumbo, standing in front of him protectively, his harsh gaze boring a hole into Mumbo's head. "...Who're you, and what are you doing in my base."
Grian slides a diamond sword from his inventory and Mumbo lets out a nervous chuckle. Of course. He should have known. Xisuma may have promised Evil X not to tell anyone how to bring someone back, but he wasn't the only one on the server that knew how. And Cleo? She'd made no such promise.
"Start talking," Grian demands, taking a step forward and brandishing his sword threateningly.
"Wait!" Mumbo shouts, holding his hands up placatingly. "I! I'm...!"
He has no idea what to do. How does he explain himself to Grian and this second Mumbo? He hadn't prepared for this scenario, he doesn't know what to do. What does he say? What does he say?
Grian shifts the sword in his hand impatiently and Mumbo blurts the first thing that comes to mind.
"I'm Evil Mumbo!"
Grian stops, and the color drains from his face. Mumbo's gaze shifts between Grian's and his own, his doppelgänger looking nearly as stricken as Grian himself.
"...I'm Evil Mumbo."
He should have known things wouldn't be that simple.